Fat and Happy...

I am not particularly fond of that saying. I don't understand the logic behind being fat AND happy.

Ben and I are quickly approaching our two year anniversary of dating one another. When we met, I had been at the same weight since a few months after I moved to Chattanooga. Most people gain weight when they start their first full time job, but I actually lost weight when I came here. Why? Because I discovered running. Ahhhhh...running...isn't it grand? There is no better way to be highly aerobic yet terribly detrimental to your body at the same time. Anyway, so then I met Ben...my love...my Valentine....and oh the good times we had! Oh, the wonderful meals we ate while learning every aspect of each others' histories! Oh, the calories we consumed through childhood stories and college memories. Ugh! Hehe...needless to say, I gained a bit of weight - about 5 pounds to be exact - that first summer we dated. Heading into that first fall, I had to take things under control...I had to go back to my regular weight.

So, I did. I lost that five pounds - actually, I lost more than double it. I am happy. Not fat, but happy.

We are so busy with all of the wedding preparations, work and school (so sorry to anyone who actually reads these and has to listen to that complaint time and again). It would be easy to pick up fast food laden with fat and calories. It would be easy to let our workouts fall away. It would be easy to become fat....but then I wouldn't be happy.

I look forward to my runs. I am proud of my runs. They are by far the best part of my very busy week.

Since the engagement, though, I've been a bit concerned: am I obsessed with my weight? I seem to be focusing on it quite a bit, seeing as I will be in a white slinky dress in about 7 months. For years, I have kept a record in Excel of my weight. I document the day it was taken, the time of day, and what I was wearing at the time. I am highly methodical in my weight chronicles; since workout weights are usually pretty consistent in time and attire, I separate those out from the others. At any point, I can tell you the standard deviation of my weight (typically it runs around 1 pound). I graph the data and do a linear regression on it to see the trendline. So is this obsessive?

Pretty much everyone in my family is overweight. The family is fraught with heart disease, everyone seems to have their version of what open heart surgery is like, and meals still contain loads of fats, carbs, and cals. Thousands of calories are consumed each day by my individual family members, while no cravings for physical activity exist. Ask them if they eat healthy and work out and they'll lie to you. It's sad, but what is more so is that they lie to themselves.

So, is it so wrong to be so obsessive? Or is it worse to not care at all and be fat and happy? Fat and happy until the next hospital visit, that is.