I am filling out a survey today for the National Weight Control Registry. I have done this for five years, ever since I dropped 50 pounds through diet and exercise and the wisdom of one of the biggest extravagancies of my cheapskate life—hiring a personal trainer.
There was a little bump in the road nine months after I started on my healthy regimen—breast cancer—but I remain convinced that it was far less serious and my response to treatment far easier because I had a healthy body going in.
I have kept almost all the weight off—I regained about ten pounds two years ago on a lovely tour of the South, when I had grits and gravy and white sauce—usually all at once. And I cannot get rid of that weight. Just cannot. I remain active, with a healthy diet and only a few falls from the low-fat wagon (Mexican food and French fries are my downfalls). I lose three or four pounds but it comes right back.
I appear to have no margin of error here. I can watch my diet like a healthy hawk (no mice or carrion) all week and then we go out on Friday night and—whop—my weight pops up and stays there for days.
My husband says I should not weigh myself everyday, but I disagree. I think that scale keeps me honest and is the reason I have done as well as I have.
Most people who lose weight regain everything they lost, so keeping my added weight at ten pounds is better than nothing. And I have vowed not to buy larger clothes. Wearing tight jeans helps me decide to have a salad instead of the chimichanga I really, really, really want.
But it is a struggle, and every time I write in this blog or elsewhere about how important it is to maintain a healthy weight—for TNBC, all forms of breast cancer, and a multitude of other diseases—I feel a little person on my shoulder saying, “But it is hard. Acknowledge that it is hard.”
It is hard, but it is also important. Filling out the form for the weight loss registry is probably the most helpful thing I do in terms of keeping my weight down. In order to be a member of the registry, you have to have lost at least 30 pounds and kept it off at least a year. Remaining a member of this group has become extremely symbolic to me—sort of a metaphor for my health.
And I do love fitting into smaller clothes. Although women’s sizes are just nuts, so I am not sure what size I actually wear. but that’s another post.