Sometimes A Hard Head Needs a Knock...

End of my junior year of college...County Line Road...driving my old, white Ford Explorer...Dr. Pepper in the cup holder (not diet, of course)...Krispy Kreme donut in hand...the phone rings.  Reluctantly, I put down my donut to answer my phone.  My mom was on the other end, and immediately I could tell this was not a "shoot the breeze" kind of conversation.  As the conversation began, I could sense that things were about to get serious.  This was to be the phone call that would make me more angry than I had ever been but also later would make me more thankful than I could ever express.  The phone call was to inform me that my mom, dad, and Nana had had a discussion about my weight problem that had become out of control during college.   I was currently weighing in at a weight of 266 lbs. and totally blind to the fact that I needed help.  Sure, I may have wished I could shop where my friends shopped every now and then, but I had become accustomed to breaking apart on shopping trips and heading to "my section."  Immediately, I became defensive.  "How could they think I need help?  They think I'm fat, lazy and ugly!  Everybody looks at me and sees a fat, disgusting blob!" I thought.  In silent retaliation against what I was hearing, I finished my donut and Dr. Pepper.  My mom insisted that this had nothing to do with the way I looked, but at the time, I couldn't wrap my brain around that.  I was upset, offended, and sobbing..  When we hung up, I vowed to lose it, not to get healthy...but to spite everyone that I believed thought I was fat, ugly, and incapable of accomplishing it.  The next day, I began taking the stairs to my fourth floor dorm, choosing salad instead of burgers, dipping my salad in my dressing instead of smothering it, choosing fruit instead of ice cream, and immediately began to drop weight.  Weight Watchers points became something I was incredibly familiar with, and my attitude began to change.  After a few months of realizing my constant fatigue was subsiding and that my clothes were becoming baggy, I came to the realization that everything my mother said was true.  That was a tough pill for this prideful girl to swallow.  My family really didn't think i was fat and ugly; they wanted me to be healthy.  During the next year, I lost 80 pounds.  I felt better than I had in a long time.  However, within the next few months, life threw us all a curve ball, and I would fall of the wagon face first...but that's another story for another day.  The beginning of my story began with anger, sadness, and resentment; but is now full of thankfulness, happiness, and inexplainable gratitude to a mom, dad, and Nana who saved me from a life that would've certainly caused a premature death.  No matter what your incentive...get on the wagon, hang on, and quickly get back on if you fall off!  It's gonna be a wild ride full of bumps, hills, and sharp turns!  Remember in good times and bad...it's not a diet; it's a lifestyle!