I keep asking myself this over and over.

It’s like that Peter Griffin meme – who the hell cares?

The fact is – we all care. We care about weight, our appearance, and how we’re seen when we step out the door. At least in some capacity. Confidence should outshine the scale. And I get that. More than you know. I still wear short skirts, dresses, knee highs, and a bikini in the summer. Trust me. I get it.

I’m the first to admit, I’m huge a advocate for the gym. And the hardest part – literally – is walking through the door. I’m not concerned that I won’t make it back to my “second home” (YMCA of Eastern Ontario). I’ll be back on Monday.

I’m also very aware of a grueling month of December. Besides the fact that each of us are shrouded by the complexities of holiday schedules, I also decided to dump in a move into the mix, and had to learn – very quickly – how to duck in and out of a new environment twenty minutes from my former stoop. Yeah, let’s not only try moving in the winter, let’s also add almost a half hour extra to my drive time.

I guess you could say the four or five minute bump to make it the Y became a crutch. When it was fast to get there, it was harder to choose not to go. Now that I’m out in God’s country, I’m forced to re-manipulate my time table to accommodate my workouts at the gym. Fortunately, too, that Jan has got us a few pieces of equipment in our basement that will aid in getting back up on the horse.

It also doesn’t hurt that I have a partner who’s as committed to health and fitness as I am. And when I say it like that, I mean that Jan and I are consciously aware of what we are and aren’t doing to our bodies. How we do and don’t eat. How we’ve permitted ourselves a month’s worth of adjustment (to a new home, to each other), a month’s worth of poor eating habits (thanks Mama Murph for the good trays!) and a month’s worth of probably just inane excuses that kept us both out of the gym for too long.

That said – with his motivation, we’ll ring in this new year as new people, and people who are eager to push one another back into a way of life we knew before December.

Let’s get to the gritty.

If you’re not as pissed off as I am that you can put weight on within two weeks, but need months to take it off, I think you’re kidding. I think you’re downright tricking on me. Because it makes me unbelievably livid that it takes zero time to expand the handles like loaves of bread rising in the oven, but to conquer even two or three pounds can mean weeks worth of heartache.

Add to the fact that I never lost a goddamn pound during the 90 Day Challenge, you can imagine my annoyance that I’m hovering around 207lbs coming out of December. In October, I weighed in just under 200. At the beginning of the challenge last March, I think I started around 190.

So why weight.

This is what I look like today. I specifically took this photo in our work washroom because it has unforgiving lighting. There’s no filter. This is all 207 of me.

And yes, I – as strongly as you – believe that pounds on the scale are not always indicative of overall health. In fact, someone who is 185lbs and goes to the gym consistently could stand next to someone who is 125lbs and you could discern who was in better health.

Numbers, are numbers.

But why weight.

In my world, my weight has contributed to an entirely different set of health concerns all together – sleep apnea. And this was something I spoke about to great lengths during the 90 Day Challenge. That my breathing habits during sleep were so poor, I was at genuine risk of heart attack or stroke as I age. And here’s the kicker – my BMI registers as obese, but not obese enough to have me qualify for say, gastric bypass surgery. And even with diagnosed severe sleep apnea, I still don’t qualify, as my BMI is just a smidge smaller than the considered range for surgery. That’s frustrating. I’m “too fat”, but “not fat enough”. What do you do with that?

Many will tell you that BMI is an annoyance, and not a true test of health. And for the most part, I believe that to be true. It’s just an equation, and takes no consideration of the actual human. Just basic math – gender, plus height, plus weight = blank. Voila – a score. I can bitch, piss, moan and complain all I’d like to my doctors at the sleep clinics that I think BMI is a bunch of poppycock I’d rather they do away with.

But that will get me no where. Because BMI is what they’re using to determine my sleep apnea recovery, and eventual curing.

Again I ask – why weight.

Now let’s also ask – what are lofty goals?

Blogging everyday, that’s for sure. Quitting smoking cold turkey after 20 years. That was tough, too. Running an 8k mere months after starting to work out at the gym.

Oh. I guess these were goals I already saw through. So either, I’m not afraid of commitment or I’m too stubborn to give up. Either way, it got me to the end game. So let’s see if I can go after it again.

Why weight?

Because I have to get my BMI under control. When Jan and I started dating, I’d already started my sleep therapy. When I sleep/nap without the mask, he’s forced to move out of bed because my snoring is that bad. And snoring isn’t simply just rattling noise to piss your partner off beyond all measure – in fact, my snoring is indicative of a young woman who’s losing her breath more than thirty times per hour, and that’s threatening her oxygen levels, and putting pressure on her heart. And here’s the hard cold facts – the mask has dropped my sleep apnea to a mere one to five events per hour (the times I’m losing my breath), but if that mask is off – well. You get it.

But it is treatable. And curable. And if I get my weight under control, then this could actually mean hanging up the mask for good.

I’d say that’s why I’ll weight.

207 on January 3rd. Can we make it to 167 by my birthday, June 7th? That’s 40 pounds in six months. Just under 10lbs per month. It’ll take nutritionists, the support of Jan, the focus and determination and will power I utilized to get out of being a smoker. Getting back to the Y.

And here’s the secret to success. People ask me how I was able to quit smoking as efficiently as I did. I tell them it was a fidget spinner that contributed to butting out. And while that’s true, here’s the exact reason I was able to make it happen – I gave myself permission to fail. I said to myself – Self, you can screw this up. That’s okay. As long as you keep trying. Because success isn’t the finish line. It’s the determination to keep getting up and heading towards it.

That said, if these pounds don’t fall off me by June 7th, maybe they will be July. Or December. Or 2021. But no matter what happens, at least I can say I gave it the college try.

Let’s weight and see.

— c ☆

p.s. as always – should you feel encouraged to lose weight, make significant changes to your lifestyle or diet, talk to a professional, see your doctor and be safe. xo