WW Journey by AP Reporter
This was posted on my Sistahs on Weight Watchers message board…very interesting read.
A Step-By-Step Journey in Weight Loss
Nov 15, 12:13 PM (ET)
By CHELSEA J. CARTER
Starting up the steep, narrow staircase, I waited for the effects to kick in – the frighteningly rapid heartbeat, the heavy breathing, the sweat. But I had no choice.
After doing interviews below with crewmembers of the aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln, I had to reach the flight deck, several levels up. I had a big story to cover.
Most of my life I’ve weighed too much, and I’d grown all too familiar with the discomfort physical exertion caused me.
This time, on the ship’s stairs, it felt different, better somehow. Still, there was no time to think about that. I had to climb. And fast.
The president would be landing on the flight deck soon.
—
About 4 million Americans live with “morbid obesity,” so fat it’s a danger to their health.
My own obesity took years – a pound at a time, the result of an insatiable appetite and lack of exercise.
At age 14, I weighed more than 200 pounds. By my 33rd birthday last year, I hovered near 270 and wore a size 24. I stand 5 feet 7.
“It doesn’t affect my life. I date. I have friends. I have a job,” I always said. That was far from the truth.
Traveling, I picked off-peak flights because it was uncomfortable to sit next to somebody. Sleeping, I suffered from obstructive sleep apnea, a disorder that, in my case, was caused by obesity. Standing at a news conference or hustling to gather quotes caused back and knee aches, sore feet and exhaustion.
Over the years, I made half-hearted attempts to lose weight. I had heard the statistics, read the articles about obesity mortality rates.
But I needed a special, personal kind of nudge.
—
On Sept. 6, 2002, with my weight at 268 pounds, a co-worker broke the sad news that, as much as any one thing, began to change my life.
“Do you remember my friend Yvonne?” said Lynn Elber. “She died.”
“How?” I said, shocked.
“I think it was her weight,” Lynn said.
At age 48, Yvonne Bry died of deep vein thrombosis, according to her family. Whether her weight was a direct factor may never be known, but the diagnosis has been associated with inactivity.
Only days earlier I had been to my doctor for a routine physical. My blood pressure was up. My cholesterol levels were on the rise. There was a near constant ache in my right knee.
“You’re too young to be having these problems,” the doctor said.
Now, with the news of Yvonne’s death, those words echoed. I was scared.
I knew I had to make a change. I just didn’t know how. But I remembered that a year earlier Maria McGovern, the manager of my apartment complex, had lost 30 pounds with Weight Watchers. I called her.
I also turned to an old high school friend, Kimberly Baron. She had worked as a personal trainer. She had tried to coax me into working out. I always balked.
“Will you help me?” I asked Kim.
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask,” she said.
—
On Sept. 10, 2002, I stepped onto a treadmill in a workout room in my apartment complex.
Disappointed afterward, I told Kim: “Twenty minutes. I couldn’t even walk for 20 minutes.”
“It’s a start,” said Kim, who set up a cardiovascular and weight training program for me.
A day later, I walked into my first Weight Watchers meeting, bringing along a friend, Martha Johnson. Both of us had been afraid to go alone.
I always looked at self-help programs with a skeptic’s eye. On that night, for the first time, I was open to it.
It was simple things, things I already knew, that made the most sense: Eat breakfast, keep a food journal, watch food portions, take a lunch to work, pack snacks, drink water and exercise.
At that moment, I knew I had to treat it like a job – make losing weight the priority. Tuesdays, I decided, would always be “weigh in” day, the day I stepped on a scale.
The first week I lost 10.1 pounds – a bag of potatoes, I told friends.
(Continued)
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