The Weight Watchers Wagon

We all know the wagons of life—you're either on them or off. My current one is Weight Watchers. Oct. 10 will be my one-year anniversary with it. It changed my life.

Back story: I was always a single-digit size until I graduated from college and realized the wonders of pasta, powdered "cheese" and Kraft products. (I now know why my mother never let me eat its products!)

Between college and 2009, I gained 170 pounds. Wow. I've never said that aloud before. 170 pounds. In 2009, I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes and immediately took action—on my own, of course. Why would I need someone else to tell me how to eat? 

My initial thought was "Well, my mother had the right idea, after all I was slender and healthy under her tutelage." However, this was 2009. She died in 2006.

So I started working out a little, cutting back on soda (at my highest, I was consuming 12 cans of Coke a day). It worked. I dropped 70 pounds. 

And then I got cocky and my weight loss plateaued. 

Last year I was at the Fryeburg Fair in Maine and was looking forward to my annual piece of fried dough. I got it, ate it and immediately felt sick. I decided it was time to finally listen to my body. 

That Monday, I stepped in to the in Shrewsbury, and started a journey that will last a lifetime, I'm sure, but one that has saved my life.

I am down more than 50 pounds in 10 months, leaving me only 50 pounds to my college weight.

I know I can do it and every Monday when I attend meetings, I sit in the hard plastic chair surrounded by fellow food lovers, I listen to my leader Kathy (at goal weight for 37 years!) tell us we are defined by our choices. I choose to eat in moderation now. And I choose to be a Weight Watcher.

Meetings are Mondays at 6:45 for anyone who wants to say hi to me and see how I did that week. My guess is I maintained this week, but I've been on vacation for a week, so I am OK with maintaining!