Losing Weight: My Personal Saga

How I Got Started
Ever since adolescence, I was chunky. I was a size 12 when I graduated from high school. By the time I graduated from pregnancy to parenthood, I climbed to a size 16 and continued to expand until my daughter entered kindergarten. I hadn't realized it at the time because I refused to own a scale, but at age 40, I was 2 pounds shy of official obesity.

The idea of going on a "diet" had always been repugnant to me. For one thing, I didn't trust the diet industry. I didn't think I had the willpower to forego my favorite feasts. Aside from some joint pain in the morning, I was relatively healthy. My husband--who had gained even more weight than I did--said I was beautiful. Most notably, I was afraid of being hungry. So I pretty much accepted the idea of being chunky for the rest of my life.

…Until I saw a picture of myself standing beside my friend, Suzanne--the Stick. That was my epiphany. I didn't want to live in the fat world anymore.

It was time to make some hard decisions. For the previous five years, I had been writing books exclusively. Between books, I would join an aerobics class of some sort. But the minute my agent called with a new assignment, I'd quit the class to make more time to write. This pattern had to be broken.

Another pattern that needed destruction was my propensity to nosh. I could eat a half-pound of Good 'N' Plenty before coming up for air. Don't even ask about chocolate.

I also needed to deal with the scale issue. After speaking to a few friends about their weight-management efforts, I decided to accompany one of them to a Weight Watchers meeting. I had considered joining WW many times over the years but couldn't fathom the idea of anyone else knowing how much I weighed. Heck, I couldn’t fathom knowing what I weighed.

As I sat in the plastic chair at my first WW meeting, I felt like an alcoholic at her first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. "Hi. I'm Robin. It's been 30 seconds since I had something delicious to eat."

WW does not advocate dieting. There are no magic milkshakes, fat-burning pills, or other quick fixes. The only way to lose weight and keep it off is the hard way: Adoption of a healthy lifestyle. That means daily physical activity coupled with eating meals that are low in fat and calories and high in fiber.

So I readjusted my priorities. I quit writing books altogether and focused on shorter term writing projects. I committed myself to one hour of high-intensity aerobic and strength-training exercise every day. Virtually everything else, including work, cooking, cleaning, and shopping, came second. I joined a nearby gym with free baby-sitting.

I followed the WW program to the letter, writing down absolutely everything I ate and keeping within my allotment of daily "points." I attended the weekly motivational meetings with almost religious fervor.

To my delight, I learned that if was careful all day, I could have a whole piece of Godiva chocolate at night when my sweet tooth cried out in anguish.

Almost immediately, pounds began to evaporate. After just one month, people began to notice. Every compliment inspired me to redouble my efforts--as did each backslide and plateau. I transferred to my body all that passion, commitment, and obsessive-compulsiveness that I previously applied to my book-writing career.

After losing the first 20 of my 43 pounds, I attended a Thanksgiving dinner where all my family members started ooooo-ing and ahhhh-ing about how much better I looked. Well, almost all.

A seventy-something aunt, who had yo-yo dieted all her life, took a different tack. "You know," she said bluntly, "the first 20 are easy. It's those last set of pounds that'll trip you up."

Then my mother-in-law--a former weight-loss counselor--chimed in. "Eventually, people will get used to your new look and stop raving," she predicted. "You won't have that feedback anymore, and you may lose your incentive."

Until that moment, the potential for failure had eluded me. After all, I had completely transformed my lifestyle. I wasn't on a diet that would someday end. I wasn't planning to quit exercising or stop eating sensibly just because I looked better. Losing weight and keeping it off was a foregone conclusion, as far as I was concerned. My weight loss also became something very precious and fragile to me. I had worked so hard to get lean. How could I let myself down?

It's been 18 months since I reached my goal weight, and I've been hovering between 133 and 137 pounds ever since. At 5 foot 5 inches tall, my weight is optimal for good health, and I've never felt better, stronger, or more energized. For the first time ever, I feel sexy in a bathing suit!

In nine months, I had met my WW goal of 150 pounds. Since then, I have dropped another 15 for a total weight loss of 43 pounds, which I've kept off for more than a year. I gave all my "big clothes" to charity and joyously filled my closet with size eights and sixes. I even have a size-4 Spandex mini-skirt. To people who haven't seen me in a while, the transformation is downright shocking.

Physically, I feel better than I did when I was 20. My joints no longer hurt. I can jog nonstop for 40 minutes. I can do 900 abdominal crunches without resting and play singles instead of doubles tennis. On the ski slopes, I'm a butterfly instead of an elephant.

Here's the best part: My weight loss has inspired a dozen friends and relatives to join WW. And my exercise-hating husband has become a gym rat, like me. In the last year, he has dropped 40 pounds on his own. Combined, we figure we lost the equivalent of a middle school student.

My only concern is my 7-year-old daughter. "What happens if you lose all your weight, Mamma?" she asks. "Will you disappear?"

No, I tell her. Like all those pounds I shed, I'm not going anywhere.

While not as difficult as losing weight, maintenance requires diligence. Here is what works for me now:

The Scale and Food Journaling
I weigh myself almost every morning. When I'm up a pound or more, I start writing down everything I eat. Almost magically, I'm back down to where I want to be in a day or two. Another trick is eating cereal for dinner that evening. Usually it takes two bowls of a sweet but high-fiber cereal with skim milk to satisfy me, but even that amounts to way fewer calories than a typical dinner.

Eating Out
I try not to eat out more than two or three times a month. I have much more control over my fat and calorie intake when I prepare my own meals. I'm also vulnerable to delectably descriptive menus and sumptuous smells. I stopped my practice of buying a dozen bagels every weekend. When I started Weight Watchers in 1998, I was mortified to learn that a single bagel packed a whopping 6 points--before the cream cheese. At first, I missed bagels terribly; after a month or so, I practically forgot they existed. Now, when bagels are served, I don't try to resist them; but I take only half with a thin veneer of light cream cheese.

Beverages
I drink only diet soda and other zero-calorie beverages. The milk I drink is fat-free. I drink 3 to 4 bottles of water every day. I take water with me wherever I go. Drinking lots of water reduces the amount of fluid the body retains. So I never feel bloated (although I use the bathroom with greater frequency).

The Hunger Quotient
I analyzed my hunger quotient and determined that my appetite is greatest in the evening. Instead of fighting this reality, I opted to limit my food intake during the day when I'm least hungry, but I never skip meals. Skipping meals, or having a Slim Fast shake for lunch, makes me ravenous by 3 p.m. and likely to binge.

Mealtime
I try to eat smart at every meal. For breakfast, I usually have a bowl of oatmeal or oat bran; or a high-fiber cold cereal, such as Kashi Good Friends, Special K, or Fiber One (with strawberries or banana slices, sometimes) with fat-free milk, a small glass of orange juice, and coffee (no sugar) with light or fat-free cream. Lunch generally consists of sushi (a very low-point food), or a big salad with low-fat dressing (I can't stomach the fat-free dressings); or a Weight Watchers Smart One frozen meal. Sometimes I'll have a grilled cheese with a couple of slices of 2% American cheese on light wheat bread--only 4 points. Dinner is usually pasta with low-fat sauce, or skinless chicken, or broiled or poached fish, with rice or potatoes, and a salad or steamed vegetables (no butter). Sometimes I make a crock pot of vegetarian chili (I found a great recipe in the American Heart Association cookbook).

Portion Control and Servings
I gave up second helpings. I realized that if I waited 5 minutes after eating my first helping at dinner, I wasn't hungry any more. I serve bread with dinner about once a week instead of every night, like I used to. I limit myself to one indulgence a day, such as my precious piece of Godiva chocolate or 20 Jelly-Belly jellybeans (yes, I count them).

Fruits and Vegetables
I keep my refrigerator stocked with fresh fruit, baby carrots and other ready-to-eat vegetables. I often grab a piece of fruit or a handful of carrots whenever I leave the house. I also eat fruit between meals to stave off hunger.

Snacks
I discovered two low-fat, low calorie items that really fill me up: light yogurt (sweetened with aspartame), and soup. I go for vegetable or lentil soups and steer clear of cream soups. When I feel like pigging out at night, I eat a bag of microwave popcorn--the highest fiber, lowest-fat brand I can find.

Celebrations
Now that I'm no longer trying to lose weight, I let myself eat whatever I want at weddings, bar mitzvahs, Thanksgiving, and other special occasions without feeling guilty. Since I'm working out every day, an occasional foray into overeating really makes very little difference on the scale, I have found.

Exercise is Sacred
I no longer treat exercise as an option to be exercised when my schedule permits. Exercise time is sacred time, as important as spending time with my family and earning a living. My husband has come to feel the same way. We enthusiastically coordinate our schedules to enable each other to work out daily. Each workout spans 45 to 60 minutes. That may seem like a lot, but it amounts to a small percentage of my total waking hours.

I take an aerobics class or engage in some other form of aerobic activity after dropping my son at preschool. I add 15 to 20 minutes of strength training two or three times a week. Working from home affords me this flexibility. If I had a full-time job, I would probably work out at lunch and eat at my desk, wake up an hour early to exercise, or stop at the gym on the way home from work.

Add Variety to Workouts
I vary my workouts. Usually I aerobic dance or do step aerobics, but sometimes I'll use aerobic equipment at my gym, such as the cross-trainer or stationary bike. If I can't get to the gym because my son or daughter is sick, I'll jog around my development for 40 minutes after supper, if possible. On nice days, I may bicycle a 60-minute loop amid farmland near my home instead of going to the gym. During the summer, I swim laps. I also belong to tennis and racquetball leagues. Since I strive to exercise every day, missing a workout here or there is no big deal.

During my workout sessions, I put my body on automatic pilot and read, sing, or just let my mind wander. This way I'm not focused on how much sweat is pouring off my brow.
I work out in the morning so there is less time to find excuses not to exercise. On weekends, I try to work out a little longer, but I still do it in the morning.

A Second Workout
I grab every opportunity for a second workout. For example, I might walk the mile to my daughter's school to pick her up when the weather permits. If I have a tennis match in the afternoon, I don't let that preclude my normal morning workout. If I have enough energy at night, I'll do sit-ups or pump 10-pound dumbbells while watching television.

When I was fat, I used to jealously glare at svelte people jogging or biking through my neighborhood. "Sure, it's the thin ones who don't even need to exercise who exercise," I would think.

I now realize how naïve I was. Most people are svelte because they exercise, not in spite of it. I'm proud to be one of them.

-- Robin