Down 42 and Up 8

This is not a blog born out of a New Year's Resolution. I've stopped making those. This is a blog born out of the ownership of a mirror. We'll just leave it at that (for now).

Last year, I dropped 50 pounds. This year, I appear to have gained 8. (I'm sure it wasn't ALL in the 4 and a half days that make up this year, but in the spirit of marking time and seeing as I haven't bothered to weigh myself from late September until today...)

10 years ago I lost 75 pounds, give or take, since I was too poor to own a scale at the time. A year and a job that paid me enough to eat more than two meals a day later, I slowly and steadily began gaining it all back. Three years ago, I lost 40 of those pounds. Two years ago, I gained all of that back. The year before last I quit smoking and started eating. REALLY eating. I also learned that I really love to cook (and enjoy the spoils). By November of 2009 I found myself 185 pounds away from my ideal weight. After freaking out, giving up, getting angry and finally becoming resolved, I started to slowly chip away at that mind-boggling and impossible to truly fathom number.

And by September of 2010, I finally achieved a major milestone - a 50 pound weight loss.

True to form, of course, I slowly slipped into ambivalence, laziness and defiance - yet again.

To say that I was mortified to weigh myself today is an understatement. I expected the tears to flow and the self-loathing to set in. It was like pulling a bandage off of a hairy arm to actually will myself to stand up to/stand on that scale. Then I looked down.

Huh. 8 pounds? That's it?

I can do this.  

The only question left to answer is whether or not I actually will.