Friday Quote Day

The point of living and of being an optimist,
is to be foolish enough to believe the best is yet to come.

– Peter Ustinov

I think most overweight, out-of-shape folks who start an exercise program, take a healthy cooking class or declare "this is the year I'm going to lose weight," must be optimists of the most hopeful kind.

We set off with the confidence of those who have succeeded before us, inspired by magazine articles and makeover programs. Or we're disgusted with ourselves, using anger as our primary motivator. We know that all we need to do is eat less and move more. After all, isn't that what our doctors and friends all tell us?

We may be tempted along the way, either by a quick-fix solution [Lose 10 pounds in one week! Guaranteed!] or by food [crunchy, salty, creamy, sweet – pick your poison]. We may be the victim of sabotage [when your mother-in-law makes her fabulous lasagna just for you] or we may sabotage ourselves [you know those peanut-butter kisses aren't for the kids, now, don't you?]

There may be a period of time where everything stalls – weight loss, motivation and inspiration all take off for Aruba, leaving us freezing in the Middle of Nowhere and wondering what the hell happened.

Whether we need to lose 15 pounds or 50 or more, as the weeks roll by that initial oomph factor dissipates and we're left with the day-to-day drudgery and work of it all.

And then something happens that makes you all hopeful and giddy and excited again. Check this out:

Those are the results of Wednesday's stick-in-the-arm. [Sorry for the crappy table formatting … it's a weak spot in my Adobe InDesign training.] Those are also the results of 11 months of eating healthful meals, for the most part, and working out a lot. Excuse me. I mean A LOT! The 2005 numbers were from November. If you've been here for a while, you know I started my great quest for health, fitness and a smaller ass in January, 2006.

Honestly, though? My quest was only for a smaller ass. I wasn't thinking about my health. I vaguely remembered being fit enough to move furniture or run six miles, but when I started this plan in January all I really wanted was to buy normal-sized clothes that both fit and flattered.

Seeing those numbers improve is like passing some kind of really, really hard exam, the one that determines if you'll have a future in high finance or flip burgers the rest of your life. I almost danced out of the doctor's office.

And how do I feel this morning?

The best is yet to come!