I declared that 2017 was the year I wanted to reach my wedding weight. A mere ... as of this morning ... 14 pounds away. 1973 was the special year I chose to become a bride. 18. Heading off to college.
This beautiful, cold November finds me 62. Burdened, lightly as burdens go, with some injuries. Burdened, not as lightly, with years of learning how to beat the tendency to obesity.
So. Do I give up? Or do I sign up? To use the DietBet paradigm to pppprrrrreeeesssss me forward? Do I use the 48 hour window and sign up for MORE??? MORE pressure? Or set aside the pressure - and all too likely, my goal - and relax into the holidays? I am GrammaDebra to 14. I could claim that. I can sit there.
But until I learn to maintain my wedding weight, am I truly free to abandon it to the simple pleasures (and inflammatory pain, but that's another post) of chocolate chip cookies and warm pudding when the grandchildren show up? Or am I MORE free when I am in process, learning and applying all that I can to live both healthy and free?
Well, tomorrow's decision will tell the tale. I am inclined tonight to reach hard for my goal. 2017 was the year. It's almost done. Am I??