Tuesday Tales

They said it would happen!! For years I was forced to listen to their dire words of warning. Do you remember them? Do you remember their words...these prophets/prophetesses of doom and gloom? Well, I am here to expose their secret society...secret mission. They are the CIA-- CALORIE INVESTIGATORS ANONYMOUS.

As a teenager, I remember the CIA quietly hovering every time I would sit down with my tray of 10 tacos from Taco Bell, or 12 Sliders with cheese (White Castles), or an extra large strawberry milkshake from Dairy Queen, 5 large brownies from the pan, or an extra basket of breadsticks from Olive Garden all for myself! Back then the only thing I knew about a calorie is that Diet Pepsi only had ONE of them.

Most CIA members belonged to the senior citizens age group...you know ages 30 to Glory? Remember when 30 was OLD? It seemed their life goal was to make every meal miserable with their gloomy predictions, "One day you are not going to be able to eat like that and it just fall off! It's gonna all catch up to ya! Wait and see."

My mother taught me to respect my elders and so inside my mind (where my mother couldn't see) I would roll my eyes and sigh rudely because I refused to accept their prophecies. It would NOT happen to me! Why? Well, because I was special! Fat cells happened to OTHER people...not me!

Denial. It is just a little word...but oh the power it holds! The power to add 25 extra pounds! I've lived with it for the past 5 years...I'm 35 (but not old...old is 45!). Donuts? No way...I snub them in the grocery store, walk the whole store at least 3 times to ward off any "fat devils" that would try to latch on and follow me home, get the groceries put away, then step on the scale and find I have gained a pound just because I PASSED by the donuts! Okay...and yes I did think about them the entire 3 laps around the grocery store!

February 6th 2008:
A pink, sweet, innocent-looking postcard arrives in my mailbox. An exercise class in my area. Woo hoo! I send Denial packing and out the door...pick up the phone and impulsively sign up for the class.

February 8th 2008:
I nervously pull into a parking space and look around praying that I not see anyone I know. Once I am in the door I begin to feel better immediately. So far I am the youngest in the class. Gasp! But these 50+ year old women are mostly size 6's! Okay, breathe...I'm younger - surely I can keep up! After all I've been chasing babies for 15 years!

ONE HOUR! Of pure torture! Not 20 minutes. Not 30 or 45...no, 60 whole minutes! In those 60 tortuous minutes, the "battering ram of revelation" hit me hard. Chasing babies does NOT count toward FITNESS. Neither does vacuuming, scrubbing toilets, ironing, cooking, dishes or pacing on the phone. These women had a 20+ year lead and exercised circles around me!! I had just been initiated into the CIA! Since February 8th I have sweat like a pig 4 times a week, made a calorie counter spreadsheet, bought a calorie-counter book, and a heart-rate monitor. Yesterday, I stepped on the scale...I've lost a whopping 6 lbs!! Ugh! They were right...it doesn't fall off anymore. The time has finally come to SWEAT it off one stubborn fat cell at a time!

But, I have no more insomnia, my back issues have disappeared, I haven't been sick once and my headaches are gone. I even found myself telling my (almost) 12 year old the other day when she came home with a super-duper Reece's Sonic Blast, "One day you are not going to be able to eat like that and it just fall off! It's gonna all catch up to ya! Wait and see."

Gasp!