I am overweight.
Not just overweight. Based on my height and current weight (which I'm too embarrassed to share), I am "morbidly obese," so says the nice doctor (she really was nice about it...).
I did not even attempt to question her. I knew. How could I not? 6 years since I moved out of my parents' house. 6 years of stress. 3 spent in college, only having to drop out because of finances. Add to that, working for a dying company 4 of those 6 years, being laid off once from said company and then going down with the ship finally in September as one of it's captains. Let's not even talk about the family drama...
But it's not their fault I cannot manage stress properly. It's all me.
I've never been "thin." But I was always active. Basketball, tennis, working out in my room to get stronger and to slim down the parts of my body that I inherited from my mother. Then, moving to Orange County, I poured all my energy into school. And then I poured all my energy into work. Never changing my diet. Never developing a workout routine. Just work. Work and eating. And eating more when I was stressed because I love food and it makes me happy.
And here I am. Reaping the rewards.
It runs in my family, I think... being overweight. My mother, goodness knows I love her, is like a little dumpling. Round and soft and full of... let's say spiciness... My father, though the thinnest of his brothers, has diabetes, high cholesterol, and heart problems. I remember him playing tennis all the time. But when he finally landed a full time job, tennis went away and he just worked, ate, and slept. So I suppose that runs in my family as well: workaholism.
My mother seems to have no other health problems other than joint pain attributed to her weight. Luckily, all the blood work I had done in the past showed much the same: healthy.
My father, once he heard the news of the diabetes, lost the weight. He walked. He used weights at home. We started playing tennis again. Not everyday but most days. But he couldn't change his diet. Being Filipino, white rice is part of every meal and he just was too set in his ways so his diabetes remained.
I do not want to be like my parents. My knees and hips hurt sometimes and it scares me. My doctor mentioned the very real possibility of having diabetes and that scares me as well (I'm having blood work done on the 1st of November and we'll find out if I have diabetes). I'm only 24. I have so much more living to do.
So here's the plan. I'm going to lose the weight by working out again. I'm going to eat healthier. I'm not one for counting calories but I can change the way I eat.
The goal is to lose 80 pounds. I'm not going to put a time limit on it because what's the point? I'm just going to freak out and stress as deadlines approach and I have enough stress right now.
I'm going to use this blog to track my progress. To rant. To whine and cry. To share fun facts I find because I love researching things. I'm not sure who would want to read this blog, but I'm hoping that this journey will be interesting at least.
I don't expect to drop down to a size 2. I don't expect to be "thin." But I do want to be healthy. And that is my goal.