My Short-Lived Weight Journey

I have always struggled with my weight, mostly because I just genuinely love food. Between the big Sunday dinners, family gatherings, and everyday weeknight meals, there was never a shortage of food. Growing up surrounded by incredible women who cooked like they were feeding a small battalion, my love language was simply eating whatever was put in front of me. But there finally comes a moment when you catch your reflection in the mirror and think, How on earth did I manage to turn myself into an Oompa Loompa?

On the morning of January 8, 2008, I threw my sheets back and thought to myself, I don't want to live my life looking like an Oompa Loompa. At 5’3” and 225 lbs, I knew it was time to make a change. I decided, this is it, I’m going to start eating better and start exercising.

Luckily for me, I was a stay-at-home mom and could devote some time to this. Naturally, my ultimate source of weight loss inspiration was The Biggest Loser. I would watch it religiously every single week, comfortably nestled on the couch with a giant bowl of ice cream. I felt deeply encouraged by the contestants and fearful of what they were putting themselves through, but I knew it was time to swap my spoon with sneakers. The only problem? I had no clue where to start.

I started searching the internet for some help—I didn’t know how to eat healthy. I found a website called “Spark People,” a wonderful site that took my measurements and broke it down into what my daily body intake should consist of. All I had to do was plug in my food and bam, it would automatically enter the calories, protein, carbs, etc. I started playing with it and put in a Big Mac, and wow, yeah, Big Macs are not a healthy choice. This tool was a lifesaver and gave me some hope that I could actually do this.

I threw all the junk food out, went to the store, and bought all healthy foods. I searched the internet for healthy meal recipes and desserts. In order for this to work, I needed my family to make this change with me—with all that good cooking, they all could afford to lose some weight!

I created all of our meals from scratch, no more processed foods. I measured, chopped, and made sure everything was proportioned. I was a little fearful of when we all sat down to eat each night, but to my surprise, everyone ate dinner without a fuss. Of course, the desserts were made from scratch too, because going cold turkey on sweets was entirely out of the question. I just let "Spark People" keep me honest while I baked. 

Now it was time to start exercising. Oh boy, this is where I struggled. I bought yoga balls, small weights, resistance bands, and some other 'as seen on TV' gadgets. After a few days of trying out these gadgets, I just didn’t feel like sitting on a ball was going to help me, so I searched the internet again for ideas, and it just said to walk. Walking is the best exercise; okay, I’ll try that.

Right after dinner, I put on my sneakers and headed out the door. I was so pumped and ready to start this next step of my healthy journey. I had this vision of me walking for at least a mile. Yeah, that didn’t happen! I made it as far as the mailbox and thought I was going to die. The pain in my shins was throbbing. I started to convince myself that walking may not be for me.

The next night, I had a long conversation with myself: Self, if you want to lose weight, you need to move your behind, stop complaining, and put one foot in front of the other. So I put on my sneakers and tried again. This time, I made it halfway down the street. By the end of the week, I actually made it around the block.

Every day, I was cooking healthy meals and every night I was walking with my husband, and I started to feel really good.

Eventually, I decided to start walking during the day. I would bring my boys to school, drive back and switch my daughter from her car seat to the stroller, and go on our walks. I was in a definite routine and loving every minute of it. After about two months, I was walking roughly 3 miles a day. It got to the point where I was walking so fast, I started to jog. For my birthday, I had received a jogging stroller, and boy did it come in handy—especially on this one particular morning.

We lived in Florida, and yes, it is known as the "Sunshine State," but this one particular morning, it should have been called the “Sudden Surprise Storm State.”

I was walking like usual, and my daughter—who was a little over 2 years old—was smiling and playing with her toy on what started as such a beautiful morning. I walked the same route mostly every day, traveling this one road and then turning to head back, which was about 1 and 1/2 miles from my house.

Well, as I was getting ready to turn back, I noticed that the sky was black behind us. A storm was coming. OMG! I started jogging really fast, and my daughter was just loving the wind in her hair, laughing and having a grand old time, while I was panicking and running like I was in the 100-yard dash trying to outrun the wrath of Zeus.

Now the storm was right on top of us, and the rain was hard, pelting us mercilessly. I was trying to find shelter when I heard my daughter crying hysterically. I tried to calm her as I ran for dear life, eventually finding a vacant house with an overhang. We stayed there 'til the storm passed, which wasn’t that long, but the whole time, my daughter kept screaming. I thought the rain had traumatized or hurt her, so I was frantically rubbing her arms and caressing her head, but she wouldn’t stop.

When the rain started to calm, we finally made it home. I was about to take her out of the stroller when I realized she had lost one of her shoes. She kept pointing to her bare foot and crying. So, it wasn’t the rain at all—she had literally ejected her shoe while I was sprinting for our lives. Now what?!

I brought her inside, managed to wring us both out like wet mops, and got us dressed. I put her in the van, and we retraced our steps to find her missing footwear. There it was, right in the middle of the street. I pulled over, got out, and realized someone had already run it over. Wonderful. So instead of recovering from our near-death running experience, we found ourselves making an emergency pilgrimage to Walmart to buy a brand-new pair of shoes.

I continued to eat healthy and walk every day, and eventually by April, I had lost 46 lbs. I felt amazing!

Then came the ultimate plot twist: pregnancy, courtesy of two blue lines on a stick!

And my immediate, highly logical thought process was: Well, I’m pregnant, which means a free pass to eat whatever I want, whenever I want, for the next nine months. All that hard-earned weight loss vanished from my mind in a microsecond, replaced entirely by visions of pickles, ice cream, and of course, spaghetti!

-Jackie