Too Much Harper's + Too Little Exercise = Too Much Me

I would like to say I came to the realization this weekend that I am terribly out of shape and unhealthy and need to do something about it. Truth is, I came to this realization about 21 years ago but somewhat failed to follow through on the whole do-something-about-it part. As January 1 approached I told myself that 1990, 1991, 1992, (you get the picture) would be the year I would make a change. Unfortunately, I am the kind of girl who expects things to fall in my lap.

This is a terrible thing to admit, but I have never had to work really hard at anything in my life. High school was easy for me. No, I wasn’t a whiz kid. Quite the opposite, I was content to get by with an average grade. At the end of a semester I would average my grades and figure out that I could pass a particular class with a C if I made a 20 on the semester exam. Then I would only study 1/5 of the material. A brilliant plan, huh? By the way, if you happen to be reading this post and are currently enrolled as a high-schooler, please, for the love of all that is good and decent, do not follow in my footsteps. Yes, your life may be more relaxed but you will regret walking the graduation line without those pretty little golden cords.

College was even easier. I found that I possessed a knack for the art of BS. And anyone who has attended college can tell you that a good 40 - 50% of your grade can come from being skilled in this area.

For the most part, life has gone relatively smooth. Thankfully, I have had few struggles. Except for my weight.

Prior to my marriage I was thin. Not runway, anorexic skinny, but thin. For my height, my weight was fine. Then came marriage and college, along with fast food at the Grill and Pizza Hut lunches with the gang from the teacher program. And soon I became another statistic in the number of overweight Americans.

I was not even really aware that I was packing on the pounds...until about nine months after I married. My baby niece was in a beauty contest (her first of many) at the local high school and I was there to cheer her on. I was standing in the hall when a former classmate approached me with this stunned look on her face. “Tyla? Is that you?” “Yes, hi. How are ya?” “Oh my gahhhsh! You’ve gotten so fat!” What do you say to that? My first thought was to come back at her with some mean-spirited comment inquiring as to whether or not she ever went back and got that GED since she didn’t actually graduate with our class, but I resisted. I realized she hadn’t made her comment out of meanness, just tactlessness.

TO BE CONTINUED...