This Writer's Life

As a writer, I tend to spend a large amount of my time firmly seated in a chair. After all, it's kind of difficult to get Words On the Page (WOP) if I don't have my Butt In the Chair (BIC) (thank you, Nora Roberts).

Yeah, there are such things as treadmill desks, crazy contraptions designed to allow the average person stuck behind a computer all day to move as they work. But I am not that coordinated, and things like that seem certain to cause me to break a limb or two, along with the treadmill desk and my computer.

For me, it's much safer to try to get my work in while I'm seated and strapped in. (Actually, I've never tried strapping in. Maybe I'd get more work done that way? Not sure.) (Do they even make straps to keep you tied to your desk? Someone get me one.)

That isn't very conducive to staying fit and healthy, though. (Or, in my case, getting fit and healthy...) You might recall this post from over a year ago, where I admitted how unhealthy I am and vowed to change it. Well, here it is more than a year later, and not a lot has changed...only everything has changed.

I'm still pretty much as fat now as I was then. I tried losing weight, making smarter choices, etc. It would work for a bit, and then more stress would hit, and I'd fall back into my old habits. It seemed as long as I stayed where I was, I couldn't get out of that stress cycle.

Then it only compounded again, and instead of getting healthier, I got worse. I gained weight. I ballooned up to a bigger size than I'd ever been in my life.

So then I decided I needed to move--as in physically move to somewhere other than where I was. As much as I love my family, they are a huge cause of stress in my life...and with them all surrounding me, I couldn't escape the madness. So I moved. To another state. I put half the country between me and them.

In the short term, that move caused more stress. (See this post for proof.)

But after I got settled in and situated, slowly, the stress started to melt away.

Sure enough, after I eliminated the major sources of stress from my life, it got easier to make changes. Over the last few months, without really trying, I dropped about ten pounds. Then I decided it was really time to make a decided effort toward my health. I've changed the way I'm eating, and from that, I found I have a lot more energy. So I'm using that energy to exercise. No, I'm still not using a treadmill desk (Ack!), but I'm getting myself moving in the mornings, since I don't really write in the mornings anyway, and then settling in to work in the afternoons.

Guess what? It's working. I've dropped another thirteen pounds, lots of inches, and I'm discovering that I actually enjoy exercise for the first time in my life. Sure, I'm not ready for some of it. But I'm getting there. I've got more energy, my clothes are fitting better, and my blood pressure is down. I feel better every day.

Just don't ask me to walk and write at the same time.

Have you made any changes to better yourself lately? What sort of things are standing in the way of achieving your dreams? Any suggestions for how to exercise and write that don't involve potential loss of limb?

**Originally published at Lady Scribes**

The Word I've Always Avoided Using About Myself

I'm fat.

There. I said it. It's out there, and I can't take it back unless I do something to change it.

When I was a kid, I was "chubby" or I told people I hadn't lost my baby fat. As a teenager, I was "fluffy," or I think that was the term we tended to use at the time. As a twenty-something, I tended to go with "curvy" as the term of choice. When my thirties hit, I started to use terms more like "overweight" or "plus-size."

But none of those really get to the heart of the matter. They're words that I used to make myself feel better about  myself, when I didn't really feel all that good about myself. They were supposed to make it less painful to face the truth, I guess, but they really just glossed over the truth.

Because the truth is I'm fat. Obese works, as well. Neither of those are terms that seek to hide the facts.

In other areas of my life, I've never been shy to call a spade a spade. If something needs to change, I either change it myself, or I point it out to someone who can make the change. I'm not one to bite my tongue. But for some reason, in this area of my life, I've never been willing or able to face the facts, to admit to the truth. One thing I've learned in life, though, is that until we come face to face with reality, we'll never change.

So I'm facing the truth today. I'm fat. I'm obese. I'm not just curvy or fluffy or plus-sized. I'm the writer who sits behind the computer screen all day, drowning myself with coffee and eating all sorts of things that are bad for me, until one day I get on an airplane and almost can't fasten the seat belt because I'm too fat. I'm the aunt who can't run after a kite with my nephew because I'm too fat and out of shape, so I have to be sure someone else is with us who can run with him, or who can't take him on rides at the amusement park because I don't fit.  I'm the diner at the restaurant who insists on a table and not a booth, because I never know if I'll be able to fit between the table and the bench.

But that doesn't mean that's how I have to stay.

I recently decided to lose weight, and I joined Weight Watchers. I think I'm going to join a gym, too, because if I spend the money on it I'm far more likely to use it and actually work out.

I don't think I want to change the statement at the beginning of this blog post to "I'm skinny" or anything like that. I don't think I'll ever be skinny. But I do want to be able to someday, in the not too distant future, say "I'm healthy." That'd be nice.

Are there any words you've avoided using about yourself that maybe you should start using? Are you willing to make a change and get healthy with me?

**Originally published at Lady Scribes**