PomJob

Two years ago, I would walk in a bar and the 60-year-old with three teeth in the dark corner would be the only guy to hit on me.

Two weeks ago, I was walking down a street in San Antonio and a random, age appropriate, fully-toothed guy asked me out.

Two years ago, I decided to take charge of my appearance and confidence by getting off my butt and into the gym. I meant to post this on Valentine’s Day, because two years ago I came home from work, donned shorts and a t-shirt and went to the gym in my condo complex’s community building. I was tired of spending every Valentine’s Day alone.

After a very rough fall, I wanted to prove to some stupid guy that I was pretty enough to love. I thought the best way to show him that I am better than him was to lose weight. Although my motivators have since shifted, I got a charge when I ran into him with his pleasantly-plumper-than-me, live-in girlfriend six months later at the county fair (which I dragged him to, under duress, the year before). Best of all, he’s found all the weight I’d lost.

I can’t remember how far I went or how long I sweated, but I’m sure I started by struggling for one “lap” around the virtual track. Over time my running laps increased and my walking breaks shortened. That spring I completed the National Race for the Cure. It was one of the proudest days of my life.

 Two years ago, I weighed 60 pounds more than I do today.

I probably could have lost more than 60 pounds in the last two years, but I’m trying to keep it real. I have a very sweet tooth. I grew up on a dairy farm where it’s blasphemy to use margarine or white water (aka skim milk). I love pasta, so I won’t cut carbs. I believe in everything in moderation. I work out three times a week, running 3 miles each time. I still haven’t found love, and it’s hard to think that it might be my personality, not my appearance, that detracts men.

 Two years ago, I looked like this.

This year, I look like this.

It’s been a month and a half since we drafted this year’s resolutions and many have probably been long forgotten. If you need encouragement, please let me know — I’m an excellent cheerleader!  

Today, my partner in a continuing education class introduced me as his beautiful partner. Sure, he might have introduced the Mrs. Claus-doppelganger the same way had we been sitting in different seats, but it still made me grin and blush.

Though it started out as a way to prove something to someone else, this journey has helped me to realize that it really is what’s on the inside that counts but you have to have a healthy body to be happy. I had to lose weight for myself, not for some guy. This year, I had the best Valentine. My healthier self.