Fit into forty: introduction

Mary here: Let me introduce you to my friend Sarah. Sarah, meet the PrimeFit crew. Crew, meet Sarah. Sarah, take it away!

2012 is a year of change for me. I’ll be 40 in November, and I am determined to be fit. Not fitter. Fit.

I have always been an active person, but after a severe bout of postnatal depression, I lost the urge to move about and gained the urge to stuff my face with food. I was fortunate enough to be able to afford bigger clothes every few weeks-until a week after my 39th birthday, I realized I had a wardrobe full of tracksuit bottoms, and I had become, for want of a better word, a slob.

The big event.

I realized that I needed to lose 9 stone (approximately 100 pounds) to be anywhere near fighting fit, and it hurt. It hurt the kind of pain only a Krispy Kreme can cure. I have a landmark-my daughter’s 18th birthday. I want to be a UK size 12 (US 16), and I want to look good in the family photos of the big event. I don’t want to look like I do now.

Fit into forty.

I know Mary from a few places online, and we have had some incredible conversations and one of them evolved from dieting alone. I say you can diet on your own, do exercise and get fit. Mary disagrees, and all her qualifications and experience mean nothing, because let’s face it, my willpower is stronger than Mary’s expertise I have a weird sense of humour, but I am sure we’ll get used to each other.

The gauntlet.

We agreed to disagree, and then in a fit of madness I said, I’ll prove I am right. So here I am, one of the sad fat women typing about how she is going to lose weight and get fit, with no plan. Oh and I’m going to blog about it too, so I am going to be accountable publicly. I have no idea why I suggested that, as to be perfectly honest my fat-to-fit regime is a private business.

What if I fail? I’ll humiliate myself in a way that only Krispy Kremes can comfort. Many of my friends are online, and they know me for my blogging efforts, and my reputation will be shot . . . one of those pipe dreams . . . all because I couldn’t stop shovelling food into my gob even after I had publicly stated that I would.

I have agreed that I will upload my outcomes in the form of a blog post, and Mary can add her feedback and suggestions to the post after I have done my part. The first time I will see Mary’s advice will be after the post is published. That’s ok because I don’t need it, right? I can do this all by myself. Now is not the time to mention slimming clubs that women attend as a group to support and motivate each other; they’ve never appealed to me.

Meeting Mary.

The icing on the cake is I get to meet Mary in June, in New York. So I have six months to shift 50 pounds so I don’t have to buy two seats on the plane. That’s 10 lbs a month with some room for error. There are talks of runs around Central Park and right now I’d need a rocket up my backside just to step into the park. On the positive side of things, I’ll have enough tracksuit bottoms to wear.

So there we have it, a fit-into-forty journal semi-live blogged as it takes place.

I hope you will join me and leave me some encouragement, share your tips and help me motivated.

Of course you are welcome to come and meet us in New York. I’ll be the slimmer one in track suit bottoms.

Sarah

Mary’s response

I can completely empathize with what Sarah says about how her depression led to weight gain. I’ve been through that too (depression + Krispy Kremes = more body fat), and I suspect many of you have had the same experience.

My first response to her Fit into forty initiative is a rousing cheer. It takes guts and motivation to make major lifestyle changes, and I think Sarah’s reached the point where the pain of staying where she exceeds the pain of changing.

And there will be pain. I never sugarcoat the effort involved in becoming fit. But I do emphasize the rewards, and I know that body transformation can be a path to major life transformation.

But Sarah’s my friend, and I’m worried too. I don’t like her calling herself a slob, even though I know she says it semi-humorously. It doesn’t help when we judge ourselves because of our weight.

Take an honest assessment of our status? Absolutely. But without any snide comments, OK?

“Here’s what I weigh; here’s my body-fat percentage; here are my goals.” No name-calling, no self-hatred.

Hmmmm. Sarah wants to do this on her own. I do understand that she’s allergic to slimming clubs like Weight Watchers. Honestly, I am too.

But one of the most important ingredients in successfully doing this fat-loss thing is social support.

It doesn’t have to come from a club: it can come from a close friend or family member who will genuinely support you (that is, not tempt you to go out for pizza and beer); an online forum such as the ones you find at dailyburn.com, sparkpeople.com, and burnthefatinnercircle.com; a “professional” friend such as a coach or therapist; an individual exercise buddy; or the members of an exercise class who are going to glare at you if you don’t show up for Zumba on Tuesday evening.

Think about it this way: you’re changing the way you eat and the way you spend your leisure time, which means making adjustments to, frankly, your entire life. But your family, friends, and co-workers are going to be the same people they’ve always been. Eating the same crap and living the same sedentary life as before. Wondering why you are no longer interested in devouring an entire cheesecake with them and why you insist on spending time exercising rather than socializing with them.

You’re going to experience pressure to “change back” from people who feel threatened by your desire to live differently. You’re going to need at least one person in your corner whom you can complain to, exult with, and receive support from.

I’m not going to say that Sarah can’t do it alone. It’s just that I want her to succeed, so I want her to have every possible advantage, including social support.

I’ll close by saying that 10 pounds a month is a very ambitious fat-loss goal and one that could be quite difficult to sustain. Not because she won’t be working hard. But because life has a funny way of intervening. Not every meal will be perfect; not every day will include the exercise time she’s planning on. A more modest goal (one to two pounds a week) would be easier to achieve, and each small success leads to more small successes.

Stay tuned. I’m hoping for the best.

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