Happy New Year

My New Year's resolutions aren't terribly creative. For as long as I can remember, the ball would drop and I'd think to myself (because I never openly admit to being a resolution-maker), "Alright, it's January 1st again. I should probably do something about this (at which point I'd clutch my fat rolls)." Honestly, making a New Year's resolution is basically the adult version of making a wish; the kind that I'd always indulge in as a kid but never took seriously. They usually involved blowing out birthday candles, wrestling over a wishbone (which is super gross to me now as a vegetarian), spotting a shooting star, and (to my humiliation) rubbing the rhinestone belly button of a troll doll.
 Because I've been fat since the age of 9, I have all of these vivid memories of wishing for the same thing: to be thin and pretty (because I viewed them as being one and the same). Nowadays, my New Year's resolutions are more like practice runs for the season of Lent in that they involve me "giving up" something unhealthy that I like to eat (i.e. potatoes). My resolutions start out great until around January 2nd, when I realize that my birthday is a month away. And then I play the ever delightful, classic Big Girl/Guy game of "I'm really going to start eating better right after__(Insert holiday/event)____". (This never works out for me for the very simple fact that I celebrate both Jewish and Christian holidays. That basically wipes out like 8 months right there, and I flat out refuse to make latkes out of beets). So I hold out on eating well until after my birthday, which, according to my friend Rachael, warrants a week of no holds barred kind of eating. And this "week" is clearly in Narnia time because by the time Ash Wednesday rolls around, I've put on about 20 lbs of birthday weight (10 lbs for Jesus', 10 lbs for mine).

After 14 months of working towards this big goal of mine, I've decided to end my tradition of resolving to give up _____ and/or to lose weight. Don't get me wrong, I'm still going to keep busting my butt at the gym and watching my food intake. But I think John Lennon put it best when he said, "I don't believe in the Beatles, I just believe in me". The truth is I've never really believed in the Resolutions, but I made a huge mistake in not believing in myself and my ability to change. I don't think that when I started all of this, back in September 2011, that I saw the person that I am now (even with 60 more lbs to go). When you make the decision to tackle weight loss, really and truly tackle it, you never see all the little victories because all you have ever known are the failures. Fourteen months ago, I can assure you that I did not ever see me running four miles in the freezing cold wind and stomping up and down my high school bleachers ten times. I didn't see it because I didn't believe myself capable of doing something like that.

So to my fellow Resolution makers who will say to themselves today "I should probably do something about this". To my kindred people, my Big Girls and Big Guys, who will probably join a gym (http://jerseyfitnesscenter.net/JerseyFitness/index-3.html), start a diet (www.loseit.com), and make a wish for a healthier version of themselves: 1. I think that's amazing and you have my full support and encouragement. 2. Now that you've made this decision, take the necessary actions to fulfill it. After years of blowing out birthday candles and counting down with Dick Clark, I never actually made any changes. I did absolutely nothing and just assumed that change would just happen to me. And in a way it sort of did; I had a panic attack in the bathroom over a blind date (Please refer to "Paul Tales" for this account). But that incident alone didn't warrant the change, it inspired it. For you, your inspiration may come in the shape of your family, the death of a loved one, a super scary physical exam (Like the notes the school nurse used to send home to my parents that said "Your child is obese." That's it.). But change doesn't happen on good intentions alone, but through action.

So please, take the good parking spaces at my gym. Grab a vacant treadmill (especially if it belongs to a regular) or one of the fourteen bikes in the Spin room. Fill up the entire back section of all the gym classes. Dance awkwardly in Zumba class. Do all of these things with my blessing and my support. But don't tell me about your can'ts. I don't say this to sound condescending or unsympathetic. What I am saying, what every single one of these blog posts has been saying, is that you will shock yourself with the things that you are capable of, even when you're 120 lbs overweight, if you give yourself a fighting chance. You will also find that when it comes weight loss, your biggest battles will not be with the scale, but with the limitations you place on yourself from within your own mind. Now, if you're a Big Girl or a Big Guy and you're happy with yourself the way you are, and you don't want to change then don't. I've long since stopped thinking that being fat is synonymous with being ugly. But don't confuse a "can't" with a "don't want to" (For example: Angela doesn't ever want to dance the riverdance/country ho down song in Zumba class vs. Angela can't do the Tootsie Roll because her knees throb in pain every time she tries to turn them out).

As I mentioned earlier, I ran four miles. Yesterday morning when I woke up after 4 hours of sleep, completely dehydrated, and surprised by my menstrual cycle, I was going to play my "Girl" card and do some light lifting (translation: no boob punching). But I somehow found myself running with my fellow Pump & Run-ers, John and Lisa, and I ran to my high school stadium. I charged up and down the bleachers ten times. I ran back to the gym and lifted weights. And I did all of this because I have finally gotten to the point where I want my Big Goal weight more than I want to make excuses. So I've decided that I'm not going to welcome in 2013 by making a New Year's resolution to be thin and pretty. Instead, I'm going to keep busting my butt at the gym with a calm assurance that some day, maybe some time this year, I am going to step on the scale and see my number.

So to 2012, the year that brought me so many firsts and gave me back so much hope, I want to say thank you. Thank you for my milestones, my walls, my community of friends and family, for my instructors that tell us in every single one of our classes that we can do it, and for each new day that brings me closer to my Goal. And to all of you Resolutioners, I leave you with the lines of the song that played when I finished up my fourth mile:

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming
So you better run
Run fast for your mother,
Run fast for your father
Run for your children
For your sisters and brothers