I was 29 when my husband left me. It was such a shock that I became depressed and stopped eating. I went from 110 pounds to 90. I was so preoccupied with the divorce and caring for my 2-year-old son, Truitt, that I didn't pay attention to what was happening to me.
After the divorce was finalized and I settled into life as a single mom, my depression started to lift and my appetite returned. Running after a toddler, working as an accountant, and taking care of a home kept me busy, so eating right was my last concern. I ate a lot of takeout and fast food—hamburgers and fries, doughnuts, McDonald's Big Breakfast with scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns, and a biscuit—and I regained the weight I had lost. But it didn't stop there. Within 2 years, I had packed on an extra 25 pounds.
Soon my size-4 pants made way for 6s. And then 8s. As a single parent, it killed me to spend money on new clothes just because I had gained weight. When even my size 8s became uncomfortable and I had to unbutton them while sitting at my desk at work, I decided it was time to act.
The Family Diet
When I was a kid, the women in my family were always dieting. But at family gatherings, they'd pile their plates high. The joke was: "I'll start my diet again on Monday." Monday would come and they'd try the latest fad diet, deprive themselves of their favorite foods, and eventually give up.
I didn't want to get stuck in my family's diet cycle, but I didn't want to give up my favorite foods, either. Let's face it—sometimes a yummy dessert is worth the extra calories. But I was willing to start exercising. My parents' treadmill was collecting dust, so I borrowed it and began walking a mile a day. I quickly became bored watching TV while I walked, but I stuck with it because I knew it was the only way I could eat what I wanted and still lose weight. After a month, I invested in a CD player and discovered that walking was much more fun with music. Soon I was picking up the pace, adding mileage, and feeling more energetic. I eventually added an incline and some running. Within 3 months I had lost 10 pounds.
Sticker Shock
The treadmill inadvertently made me eat smarter, too, because I paid attention to its calorie counter. As I became more conscious of what I was putting in my mouth, I started to read food labels. One day I looked up my favorite McDonald's breakfast on the company Web site. It was 710 calories! I'd have to walk more than 7 miles to burn off just that meal. It wasn't worth it. I didn't want to give up all my favorite treats, but I had to make wiser food choices if I wanted to lose more weight.
I was never a fan of fruits and vegetables, but everything I read recommended them because they're nutritious, high in fiber, and low in calories. So I gave them a shot. Apples weren't so bad. Then I tried plums and peaches. To my surprise, I liked them, too. As the weight continued to melt away, I made another switch that paid off—bringing low-calorie frozen entrees and fruit to work instead of ordering greasy takeout. For quick dinners, I swapped regular burgers for lower-fat turkey burgers.
Weekend Rewards
To control my cravings, I made a deal with myself: If I ate sensibly during the week, I could indulge on the weekends. So when I'd see mouthwatering french fries on a commercial or watch my son devour a candy bar, I'd remind myself that I could have whatever I wanted—but I had to wait for the weekend.
To make up for the extra calories, I was very active on Saturdays and Sundays. I'd hop off the treadmill and take longer walks or runs outside each day. I usually spent 3 hours cutting, edging, and blowing leaves off the lawn. Add in housecleaning—sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, and doing laundry—and I burned enough calories to have pizza with Truitt (I still added a side of veggies) and hot-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies for dessert, without feeling guilty.
Delaying my cravings helped me be more discriminating in what I ate. Sure, I wanted cookies, cakes, and chips during the week, but when the weekend rolled around I'd find that I had narrowed down the list to the indulgences that were really worth the calories. So instead of wolfing down a dozen store-bought cookies without actually tasting them, I'd savor every bite of the three or four homemade ones that I'd "earned."
It took 2 years, but I lost 25 pounds. And nothing felt as good as the moment I waltzed into the Gap to finally buy jeans in a smaller size. I pulled on the 4s, but they were too big. The salesgirl gave me a size 2, but they were baggy as well. The size 1s fit just right—and 3 years later, they still do.
After the divorce was finalized and I settled into life as a single mom, my depression started to lift and my appetite returned. Running after a toddler, working as an accountant, and taking care of a home kept me busy, so eating right was my last concern. I ate a lot of takeout and fast food—hamburgers and fries, doughnuts, McDonald's Big Breakfast with scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns, and a biscuit—and I regained the weight I had lost. But it didn't stop there. Within 2 years, I had packed on an extra 25 pounds.Soon my size-4 pants made way for 6s. And then 8s. As a single parent, it killed me to spend money on new clothes just because I had gained weight. When even my size 8s became uncomfortable and I had to unbutton them while sitting at my desk at work, I decided it was time to act.
The Family Diet
When I was a kid, the women in my family were always dieting. But at family gatherings, they'd pile their plates high. The joke was: "I'll start my diet again on Monday." Monday would come and they'd try the latest fad diet, deprive themselves of their favorite foods, and eventually give up.
I didn't want to get stuck in my family's diet cycle, but I didn't want to give up my favorite foods, either. Let's face it—sometimes a yummy dessert is worth the extra calories. But I was willing to start exercising. My parents' treadmill was collecting dust, so I borrowed it and began walking a mile a day. I quickly became bored watching TV while I walked, but I stuck with it because I knew it was the only way I could eat what I wanted and still lose weight. After a month, I invested in a CD player and discovered that walking was much more fun with music. Soon I was picking up the pace, adding mileage, and feeling more energetic. I eventually added an incline and some running. Within 3 months I had lost 10 pounds.Sticker Shock
The treadmill inadvertently made me eat smarter, too, because I paid attention to its calorie counter. As I became more conscious of what I was putting in my mouth, I started to read food labels. One day I looked up my favorite McDonald's breakfast on the company Web site. It was 710 calories! I'd have to walk more than 7 miles to burn off just that meal. It wasn't worth it. I didn't want to give up all my favorite treats, but I had to make wiser food choices if I wanted to lose more weight.
I was never a fan of fruits and vegetables, but everything I read recommended them because they're nutritious, high in fiber, and low in calories. So I gave them a shot. Apples weren't so bad. Then I tried plums and peaches. To my surprise, I liked them, too. As the weight continued to melt away, I made another switch that paid off—bringing low-calorie frozen entrees and fruit to work instead of ordering greasy takeout. For quick dinners, I swapped regular burgers for lower-fat turkey burgers.
Weekend Rewards
To control my cravings, I made a deal with myself: If I ate sensibly during the week, I could indulge on the weekends. So when I'd see mouthwatering french fries on a commercial or watch my son devour a candy bar, I'd remind myself that I could have whatever I wanted—but I had to wait for the weekend.
To make up for the extra calories, I was very active on Saturdays and Sundays. I'd hop off the treadmill and take longer walks or runs outside each day. I usually spent 3 hours cutting, edging, and blowing leaves off the lawn. Add in housecleaning—sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, and doing laundry—and I burned enough calories to have pizza with Truitt (I still added a side of veggies) and hot-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies for dessert, without feeling guilty.
Delaying my cravings helped me be more discriminating in what I ate. Sure, I wanted cookies, cakes, and chips during the week, but when the weekend rolled around I'd find that I had narrowed down the list to the indulgences that were really worth the calories. So instead of wolfing down a dozen store-bought cookies without actually tasting them, I'd savor every bite of the three or four homemade ones that I'd "earned."
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Last Updated: 12/04/2006 09:54:21
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