Wicked Blubber

Did you know that the definition for blubber is cry? It's true. If you go to thesauraus.reference.com and type in the word blubber this is what appears:

Main Entry: blubber
Part of Speech: verb
Definition: cry

How fitting that blubber actually means to cry! Now, I know it's likely in reference to whales, but still. Those of us who have ever struggled with their own rolls of blubber know quite well how appropriate this verb's definition actually turns out to be.

How many times growing up did other kids call me the cliched "blubber?" I used to think to myself: "gosh, be more original! Do you think I don't know I'm fat? We do have mirrors in our household!" Of course, despite the snide remarks I'd be able to contemplate after the name-calling, or in anticipation of the name-calling, none of these rolled off my tonuge. Because blubber hurts. In every imaginable way.

How often have I looked at the rolls of practically glow-in-the-dark white, ripply skin around my hips and thighs and thought resignedly, "oh, so much blubber!"

You cut the blubber off your steak, right? Most of us can't bear to eat the greasy, too-chewy, marbled fat that supposedly makes our beef taste so good. Why can't it be so easy to cut the excess off of our bodies? Well, I guess for some people, it maybe is this easy-- if you have millions of dollars and a great plastic surgeon, maybe you truly CAN cut off your fat in a day or two. But, for the rest of us, the battle with our blubber is much more drawn-out than a few weeks of post-op recovery.

Well, Wicked Blubber is about truth in the definition of the word blubber. This blog going to be about the tears that have brought me to this point in my life, where I now weigh 280 pounds. Boy, do I hate writing that number down. The upside of this wicked number is that it has actually been higher-- 316. So, I am down 36 pounds from where I was last year. But, this number has been much smaller, too. 168 is the smallest number of my adult life.

Wicked Blubber is the cry along the journey to get back to smaller numbers the scale can show. It's about the cry that got me to 316. And it's about the wickedness of being heavy-- the wicked things I have heard from others as well as myself, and the wicked choices I sometimes make, and whatever you want to call the wicked "thing" inside of me that has made me heavier than the average.

Join in me as I fight the wickedness and turn my cry into one of victory.