There are some fine, fine bloggers out there in the weight loss world and I have great admiration for them. There are a few blogs I read every day, others that I read from time to time. Here's what they all have in common: they are honest and true to themselves and they walk the talk.
However, I find that in most cases, I just can't connect with what I'm reading.
Most weight loss bloggers are coming from a completely different world from mine. Their world was populated in the past with gallons of ice cream, Big Mac attacks, mounds of doughnuts, economy packs of Hershey's kisses, litres of Coke for breakfast. Then these valiant people started turning their lives around. They discovered oatmeal, whole-grain bread, grilled chicken, luscious asparagus, cherries fresh from the tree. They discovered real, unprocessed foods, dusted off their bikes, parked the car at the farthest end of the mall, went for a walk every day...
...and miracles started happening. They felt better, their blood pressure went down to normal, the weight started dropping away.
I am incredibly happy for these people. They have realized that the so-called "obesity epidemic" in North America is actually an epidemic of not eating real food and not moving. In a sense, our society doesn't need to tax or ban junk food. We need to ignore it.
But I digress (what's new?)...
I have yet to find, however, many people like me. I'm talking about people who don't and never have lived on junk food; people who grew up knowing and appreciating the value of real food; people who have the same obstacles and sadness in their lives as everyone else but have never felt the need to drown them in a couple of iced, mocha-choco-ccinos with a big cinnamon bun (or three) on the side; people who wouldn't know a binge if it bit them on behind.
People who eat good food, but obviously just a wee bit too much for their bodies. People who are near and dear to my heart who take a least a 1/2 hour walk every day, who almost never eat sugary desserts, who care about the quality of the food they eat...and who still, year after year, gain a couple of pounds and are starting to look rolly-polly.
It seems like it's almost easier for people who have to radically turn their lives around than for those of us whose "missteps" aren't even worthy of the name.
Weird, isn't it?