A Competition of Losers

I've lost weight only three times in my life.

The first time I lost weight was during my sophomore year of college in 1993. You could say that I lost weight as a direct result of stress and a hectic schedule. It was not really a very good "diet," but it worked!

At the beginning of the school year I was 5 feet 9 inches and 175 pounds, having gained about 40 pounds during my freshman year (I guess I didn't know I was supposed to only gain the "freshman fifteen!"). I was definitely overweight, something I had never been before, and the idea of trying to diet to lose weight was foreign to me.

So I wasn't even really trying to lost weight, but a number of factors in my life that first semester of my sophomore year made weight loss practically inevitable:

• I was newly engaged, so I was planning a wedding
• I was carrying 22 credit hours in college—and trying to make all A's (did I mention I'm a perfectionist?)
• I worked 20 hours a week as a telemarketer at MCI (talk about stress!)
• My class/work schedule made it impossible for me to eat at the college cafeteria for dinner, so I ended up eating only one meal a day (I mean, who really gets up early enough to make it to breakfast BEFORE class?).

So, circumstances were such that semester that I dropped 40 pounds by December, arriving at the weight I was when Jeff and I married the following summer—135 pounds.

Fast forward to 2002.

By this time I had given birth to my third child about 4 months previous, and I was right back at that 173 pound mark—and not feeling very good about myself. This time I really tried to lose weight.

So I participated in a First Place weight loss Bible study at my church. With the support of the other members (in reality it was "competition" for me) I lost 14 pounds, arriving at my pre-pregancy weight of 159 pounds within about 6 weeks. And, boy, was I thrilled! I wasn't exactly at the weight I ultimately wanted to be, but at least I was back in the range I was "supposed" to be. And I felt I had accomplished something.

Fast forward again to the summer of 2004.

We were now living in Texas, having moved from South Carolina in 2003. I was giving plasma twice a week to make some extra money, and I noticed as I weighed in before each appointment that I was gaining about a pound each week. Why was I gaining so much weight? Well, I knew exactly what the problem was.

I had recently found (and become addicted to) Betty Crocker's chocolate chip muffins, and I was making them for my kids for breakfast…and eating an entire package for a "snack" almost every night—all 850 calories worth! Add to that my trips to Wal-Mart for groceries, where I'd also pick up a carton of Whoppers and polish off half the carton on my own on the drive home. It was little wonder that I was gaining weight, again topping out at 173 pounds.

So I turned to another First Place weight loss Bible study at my church (I was actually a co-leader of the group since I had already been through the program once). And it worked again! But this time I lost 23 pounds—arriving at my initial goal weight of 150 pounds after only about 9 weeks. This was my pre-pregnancy weight for my first child, and I was ecstatic! Unfortunately, since I had "made it" to my first goal, my motivation collapsed, and I never saw 145 pounds, which was my ultimate goal. But at least I maintained it for a while.

That is until about 6 months ago. My overeating switched into overdrive again and I put on 13 pounds, bringing me to 163 pounds. My wardrobe diminished greatly with this extra weight, and I didn't feel that great either, so of course I wanted to do something about it. But my motivation and self-discipline was again, sadly, nonexistent. No support. No competition. I knew I wouldn't last a day "dieting" on my own.

Then my husband started to lose weight a couple of months ago.

When we married he was 5 feet 11 inches and 155 pounds (admittedly very underweight). But this last September he was up to nearly 240 pounds—and recently diagnosed with high blood pressure (added to the high cholesterol he's had for years). This new diagnosis really kicked him into action and he determined to lose weight. Which he did.

As of the beginning of December he had lost about 30 pounds, and had around 12 more pounds to go to make his initial goal of 200 pounds (his ideal goal is 175-185). At the same time, I was still hoping to make it back down to 150 pounds (at least). So we both had about 12 or so pounds to lose.

And so it began.

We still haven't set a "prize" for the winner who meets their goal first, but at least I've again found my motivation—competition!

As of today, Jeff's only about 7 pounds away from his goal and I'm about 8 1/2 pounds away. The jury's still out on who's gonna win this thing, but it doesn't really matter. When we both make our goal, regardless of who made it there first, we'll both be winners.

Isn't competition—healthy competition—great!