First, there’s the weight thing.

If I am true and honest with myself, which I try to be at least a couple of times year, I have to say that thinking about my weight has been the most constant and overriding thing in my life. Boyfriends came and went, fashions changed, goals shifted – and so did my flesh.

I was pudgy enough as an adolescent that when the extra padding went from where it shouldn’t have been to where it looked pretty good I couldn’t even enjoy it. I was a size 5 through high school but remained the “plumpest girl in the room” in my mind.

Sheesh! Why do we do this to ourselves?

At any rate, college, more boyfriends, way different fashions, interesting classes and friends – and still I focused on being fat (in my mind).

Over the years, though, I managed to make my perception the reality. Fat, fatter, fattest. I grew, and kept growing. I ended up looking like the Violet Beauregard in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – only a bit less purple. I was HUGE.

Uncool.

One December day, for no reason I can figure out, I dragged my lardy self to the local YMCA, went into the workout room, and strolled on the treadmill for about 10 minutes. Showered. Went home, exhausted but triumphant.

Thus began the incredibly slow process of losing some weight – about 52 pounds to date. There are many, many more to go. But every morning I wake and am better off than I was that morning in December.

Of course, I just heard that Krispy Kreme is going to start serving their doughnuts with ice-cream. ARGHHH!