Fit, Fit, Fit.

So, I am on the fence as to whether or not this would be a blog about weight loss or a blog about being overweight. Both, perhaps.

Don't know if there are many of you out there reading this, but let me start by speaking to all the skinny folks or physically fit or anorexic or bulimic or those of you who just can't understand how or why someone chooses to be fat.

I should start by saying that it is not really a choice. Well, not a conscious choice anyway.

I have had this struggle for all of my adult life. As I've mentioned before, I have been thin and fat and somewhere in between. I have lost more than 50 pounds on four separate occasions in various times of my life.

My best and biggest success was in the late eighties and early nineties. I began a weight loss program that I sort of made up in my head after reading about several different methods in different magazines and books and using what I knew from being on Weight Watchers, Think Thin, one OA meeting (at which all the women were thin!) and Atkins.

I lost a total of 98 pounds in one year and went on to lose 10 more after that for a total of 108! What an accomplishment, right? My closest friends were encouraging me. My family was even on board. One day, when I was going out, my father (who was forever calling me Chubby and saying I should do push-aways instead of push-ups {push away from the table}) said to me, "Don't get too  skinny!"

That, and the fact that I was able to go into any store for clothes, told me that I was finally getting control of my weight loss destiny!

My motivation for that particular weight loss was, if I'm being honest with myself, weddings. Many of my friends were engaged or getting married and I was asked to be in two weddings which were very close together. I walked into the bridal salon needing a size 20 dress and I had already lost about 30 pounds. I said give me size 16 and had to sign my life away. There was a difference in price if you were over a size 18 so I wanted to be smaller than the "plus" size.

Now, any of you who have ever been in a wedding know that bridesmaid's gowns are not very "true" to size.

When I went for my first fitting (several months after we ordered the gown) I was pleased to find that it was too big. (Except for the boobs!)

So they nipped and tucked and hemmed and $75 later I had a gown that fit like a glove! (Silly expression, isn't it?) When I brought it home to show my mother and did a little fashion show, we realized that they never altered the little jacket that came with it. It was the night before the wedding. I went to my friend who sews and she put shoulder pads in and moved some snaps and it was passable. Who would've thought that I'd buy something that was too small and would end up needing it taken in? Not me! At one point during the reception, I even took the jacket off (unheard of for me to show my arms like that!).

The next few weddings, one more of which I was in and ordered size 12, were a whirlwind of shopping at "normal" stores and buying fancy pantyhose because my legs didn't chafe anymore.

I was exercising on a rowing machine and walking 3-5 miles just about every day! I was doing sit-ups and stretching and I can truly say that I had never felt so great in all my life. My self-esteem was even up. I felt like a normal person for the first time in my adult life! I could fit anywhere!

That's the word. Fit! You can be fit. I was. You can fit into tight spaces. I did. You can fit in. Period. For the first time in my life, I fit into the normal weight category.

I kept that weight off for almost five years before I got complacent. But I would not let myself go all the way back. When I started finding things were tight on me, I started over. I moved out of my childhood home and into an apartment with my BFF. She could eat anything and never gain an ounce!

I crept back up to size 14 and got scared so I started the walking thing again. Five miles six days a week. And rowing to nowhere. Down to a 12. Stepped it up and started walking and running. Down to size 10!! I stayed there for a year or so. But it was a struggle.

We lived right across the street from a health food store and I started cooking more whole grains and less fat. Lots of pasta with grilled chicken. No cold cuts. No alcohol. No sugar. I joined a gym That didn't last too long. Back up to a 12.

I kept the bulk of the weight off for the entire time we lived in that apartment. For almost three years I struggled to maintain and stay between a size 12 and a size 14.

Then we moved. I didn't want to move. But my BFF did. I trusted her judgement and we moved into a great old house with three other friends. I loved the house but not as much as our first place. It was hard living with that many different personalities. And we didn't live close to the lake for my walks.

The weight crept on. Size 16. My mother started declining in health and my father had a prostate cancer scare. Size 18. Feed a cold. Gorge a crisis. Size 20.

I got a handle on it and started over (several times). I did aerobics and took walks. Size 18s were loose. Then I needed surgery on my hands. Size 18s were tight.

Had surgery on my hands, within three weeks I made a huge Thanksgiving dinner with the help of my friends and my sister. A few days later, my mother had a heart attack. Good thing we had all those leftovers.

I was still out of work due to my surgery when we found out they were transferring my mother to the city because she needed open heart surgery. Triple bypass. By the second week in December, she had a massive stroke. Paralyzed on the left side. She lost the use of her hand on that side and she had previously had and amputation so she could no longer transfer herself from the bed to the wheelchair. Size 22. Size 24.

We moved again to a house not far from where we were living and it was just the two of us again. My BFF was planning her wedding, as was another of my closest friends. Maid of honor in both of them=motivation!

I lost almost 60 pounds for my friend's wedding in March of '96. Size 18. Took a trip to England by myself in May and lost another 15.

My mother's health started failing again. Gained back 20. Stayed there for another 8 or 9 months. In between that time, my mother got sicker, I moved out on my own since BFF was getting married in January, met the man I would end up marrying, threw a bridal shower (along with BFF's sisters and her bridesmaids), lost my mother and got engaged. Size 22.

So I just went back and re-read. From approximately 1988-1997, I lost 108 pounds, gained back 70 pounds, lost 30, gained back 50 pounds and lost 60 again. By the time I got back from my honeymoon I was a holding at size 22.

Two years and 25 pounds later I moved into a basement apartment in my childhood home (yes, back to the land of the crickets) and started and stopped Weight Watchers several times, gaining and losing the same 20 pounds over and over. Stayed at a size 24 until about 2001 when BFF had her first and only child.

I began babysitting BFF's child on Mondays shortly after he was born. We had, by then, moved into a great new place which had nice grounds and we went for walks around the lagoon located in our complex. This time, the motivation seemed to come out of nowhere. I lost 84 pounds in a little over a year. I was fitting in again because I fit and was fit. I had joined a gym and was feeling so great. Got down to a size 14. It feels like I kept it off for about fifteen minutes!

The whole thing began unraveling when I got a bad case of Sciatica (even took myself to the hospital) and I couldn't walk with out dragging my foot. It lasted about three months. Pile marital issues on top of that and the weight piles on too. Maybe I was "normal" for a couple of years fluctuating between size 16 and size 20. The motivational spark was extinguished and I was hard pressed to find it's source again.

In '05 I began infertility treatment and very quickly gained 30 pounds. Two years of that and another 15 pounds came out of nowhere. My last procedure was shortly after my father suffered a heart attack and stroke. He died 8 months later.

One year after that my beautiful BFF began exhibiting some strange behavior. A few months later, we heartbreakingly discovered it was caused by a brain disease which causes a rare form of dementia. I have been gorging that crisis ever since.

And we are all caught up with the roller coaster of weight loss!

It's been two years now and I still cannot get a handle on my weight. My schedule of work and helping with her care has made it impossible for me to grasp onto my former motivation. Even now, I sit in her kitchen on a lovely autumn day longing for a glimmer of the BFF I knew so well and even a glimpse of my former, motivated self!

OK. So that was cathartic! I have discovered two things upon writing this post. One is that I love to find excuses for my over-eating. And the second thing is that...the word fit is at the center of my whole existence.

As a child, I had a hard time fitting in due to a lot of emotional problems and a less than perfect family dynamic. As a teenager, I had a hard time fitting in, period. As an adult, I gained so much weight I didn't fit into the spaces that "normal" people occupy. The short periods when I did fit were because I was fit. And, finally, I find that thinking about it all makes me want to have a fit!