I’ve been “big” all of my life. I weighed 165 pounds in the third grade. I weighed 209 pounds in the fourth grade. I weighed nearly 450 pounds when I started this program. As a kid, I was called many names, none of which was “Obese.” Living for so long as a large person, you forget just how much excess weight you’re carrying around.
Technically, obesity is when a person’s body mass index exceeds 30. My starting BMI was 62.5. It wasn’t on the chart at the clinic — we had to calculate it. My BMI is currently 46. I’m still obese, but I’m making progress. To be considered just overweight, I’d need to weigh less than 215 pounds. According to my calculations (yes, I calculate these things), that will happen sometime in November.
Some folks have asked me, “Why are you losing weight? You look just fine the way you are.” Framed another way, I was told, “I’m glad you’re experiencing success on your weight loss program. Know that you’re loved at any size.” It feels great to be loved. It feels entirely better to healthier.
A blog I often read for fun is, “The Things Patients Say…” Recently, the blogger posted a serious article about obesity, discussing the troubles doctors face when diagnosing and working with obese patients. Although the author seems to lack an appreciation of just how hard it is to lose weight and keep it off, he or she makes very good points about the importance of not being obese.
I’m not losing weight because it’s bikini season. I’m not losing weight because I’m on a game show. I’m not losing weight because it’s popular. Neither of my parents lived to see 60. I don’t want to follow in their footsteps.