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I stepped on the scale this morning and low and behold, I could not see the numbers. Up until my 47th birthday, I had perfect eyesight; now it seems to get exponentially worse on a daily basis – it’s really annoying. Now, not only do I have to constantly ask, “What did you say?” I also have to ask, “What  does it say?” Yesterday, at the Video Library I’m pretty sure the clerk thought I was illiterate, “Where do I put my X?” I suppose the silver lining of losing my eyesight is eventually I will not be able to see myself in the mirror (this explains so much).

Nonetheless, this morning I could still see the faint outline of the scale’s red needle and it was clearly three inches to the right of where I want it to be.

Like most people my age, I have lost a lot of weight in life. I once lost 100 pounds. This amazes some people. You know how you lose 100 pounds? Get really FAT! It’s easy to lose 100 pounds, but seemingly impossible to lose 10 pounds. My goal starting today (Friday night, not the best day of the week to start) is to lose 30 pounds although I’d be thrilled with 25; okay I’d be thrilled with  . . . five, but I’m aiming for 30!

Why have I posted this photo of myself when I am 46 years old that looks nothing like my current almost 51 year old self? This is my “before” photo. I have taken a lot of before photos in my life, some of which I really need to find and destroy so my kids don’t find them after I die; “Hmmm, I wonder why grandma took this picture of herself in her underwear in front of a mirror?” Who knows what Ralphie must have thought when I grabbed the camera out of his hand like a mad woman after I remembered I had not deleted a “before” photo I had taken right before the photos he was looking at of our family hike up Camelback Mountain! That was a really awkward moment; I had no explanation. I’ve decided scaring myself into losing weight with half-naked before pictures doesn’t work.

So, this is my new before photo . . . before I had teenagers who could drive, before I spent five years as an “Intervention Specialist” for 12 year olds, before college tuitions, before I broke my toe, before knee surgery, before stomach surgery (God, I’m a mess – I have one fully functioning appendage), before I didn’t have time to obsess about every calorie consumed or burned, before I turned 47 and started going blind, and before I  . . . got fatter. I ran into an old coaching friend at the track yesterday (Tony and I were WALKING a whole MILE). He said, “Why are you walking? What did you do, go and let yourself get outta shape after being in such great shape?”

Ten years ago, this would have stung, but my only thought was, I have never been in “great shape!” Even when this picture was taken, I had skinny guys in tight biking outfits pedaling past me on a bike race around Tahoe wishing me (the fat lady) well. “Keep it up, you can do it!” Trust me, they were not just being good sports on the road, every woman knows the difference between “pity encouragement” and “you are so hot.” I passed them as we approached the summit, so I guess I was in better shape than them. “Good job!” I said.  I guess I’m also kind of a b – – ch. Sorry.

The sucky (no better word for this) thing about losing weight is that it requires an enormous amount of attention and it seems like such a shallow thing to obsess about. Yet, every time I go to the doctor, she tells me if I don’t lose weight, I’m going to die! Actually, she doesn’t say that, she says with that same sort of pity encouragement tone in her voice, “You know you are overweight, don’t you?” I want to say, “Duh!”, but I forgive her because she’s in early thirties and she hasn’t given birth yet. She continues, “You need to exercise more and eat less.” I smile and nod and take the same printout of the same diet she hands me every time I see her. The sucky thing is, I used to obsess about my weight for vanity’s sake; dieting consumed so much of my life, and now that I don’t care about vanity, I have to obsess about my weight for my life’s sake.