When Junior and I met, one of the things I thought was, “Woohoo! Someone to cook for!”

So of course, we both promptly gained 20 pounds. I was really feeling it this hunting season. I was in the worst shape of my life, but too busy to do anything about it, what with the getting married and buying a house things. We’ve both been comtemplating going on a diet, but that enforced one in December really had me bitter about it. I do not like to diet, no I don’t.  And you can’t make me, so there.

But someone at Junior’s work signed him up to be on their Biggest Loser team. After three months, the team with the most weight loss all gets treadmills. Seems like that could come in handy earlier in the game, but whatever.

Junior jumped in with both feet. He’s been admiring a friend doing Weight Watchers, and that’s the one my mother always pushes on me, so we had some stuff floating around. I figured that I’ve always had a hard time dieting alone, so to make it easier on him, I’d do it with him. Besides, I’m fat too, and I sure wouldn’t like to be the only fat one in the family.

The first week was OK. We each lost a pound or two. I was (and remain) bitter that as a man, he gets to eat so much more than I do and still lose weight. I showed him though! I cleverly went out and got myself the stomach flu! I was flat on my back for five days, hurling effluent out of the major orifices and consequently not eating either. I lost 12 pounds! Way to get a jump start on a diet!

Of course, it didn’t last. When I could look food in the eye again, I gained back a few of those pounds, but not all of them. I didn’t go overboard with eating again after my recovery either.

That’s when it got hard. I hit that “I hate to diet” wall. All we ever talked about was the stinkin’ diet, which I hated. I hated feeling hungry all the time, I hated that I was dreaming about things like pizza, and I hated life. I blew up at him one day, and the talking about it dropped off considerably, but then I got to feeling bad about blowing up. I couldn’t win.

Except by the next day, I must have passed that hungry plateau. I was actually feeling OK about it. What I was eating didn’t feel like deprivation any more. I started to get into it. I realized that I can’t do it without exercising, so I went out and bought a couple of pieces of clothes that fit and a couple of new videos.

I’m starting slowly on the exercising. I used to be a crack hand at yoga, but the beginner pilates DVD is kicking my ass. I’m keeping with it though, and will soon expand into something aerobic. I bought a video for that too, even though I’ve been hopelessly uncoordinated all of my life. Who knows, maybe I’ll rejoin the gym, but I’m going to see if I can stick to the concept for a while on my own first. It’s cheaper.

I don’t know that I have a number goal. I probably should. But I want to not look like a fat slob for my hot younger husband, and I want to be able to get to those bear trees without falling over for lack of air. I was getting too fat to do things that I like to do, and that won’t do at all. So, three weeks in, I guess it’s a go.