I'd rather be following along, starting point!

Alright. It's time to put my money where my mouth is. I told you all that I didn't win Mamavation, so instead, I'm doing the Mamavation Follow Along program. I did the program the last time around, and while I didn't lose too much weight, it helped me gain a better vibe about this whole weight loss thing.

The program is pretty straight forward and very easy to customize to your liking. All I (or you, if you want to join in) have to do, is make a weekly blog post telling everyone what you have been eating, how you have been exercising, and how you are feeling. Then you link it up to Bookieboo (a fitness community for moms) to let the other moms know what you have been up to. What I feel is the best part of this campaign is the huge amount of support you can recieve from the other moms. I love commenting on other mamavation moms' posts, tweeting to them about their day, and just "being there" to offer a shoulder to lean on. And they in turn do the same for me. I have already made a bunch of friends that are pushing me and encouraging me to keep it up. I'm so excited to kick some major arse this time around!

Now, here comes the hard part. Last round, I was able to post the dreaded "here-are-my-nasty-feet-on-a-scale-with-an-even-nastier-measurement" picture directly in the safety of Bookieboo. Where no one would see it unless they either knew it was there or were a fellow mamavation mom. But now, I have to post it on my blog. For all of you. That kinda sucks, as the reveal of that *exact* number is enourmously frightening and pretty horrifying. Not that you can't tell just by looking at me that I need to lose weight. But this is finite. It is a direct measurement to compare and contrast with. And, if you are anything like me, you will compare and contrast it to your own or others. That will probably not bode well for me. I can imagine a chorus of "oooooh, I didn't realize it was that bad" going off through out my circle of readers.

In light of this scary fact, I have decided to take my number back. To make it so that it stings a little less to show it to you. I own this number. It is my number. So yeah, I weigh 200. (And that is my early morning, butt naked, weight.) When I'm at the doctor, they have to push that freaking little arrow up to the next 50 pound notch. I shop (insert evil music here) in the "woman's" section. There are lots of things not healthy about me. Here is the picture to prove it.

But it's my number. And my weight. And my body. It has got me through a lot in these past 31 years. It had two babies. It walked 120 miles in 6 days. It carries me to all the places I need to go, and keeps me keeping on. Yeah, I weight 200 pounds.

200 (painful, lovely, annoying, honest, determined) pounds.

But soon, it will be less.

This week I am eating healthy (weight watchers style.) I am being active (EA Active.) I am moving more and sitting less (Gruve, baby!) And I am mamavating.

I plan to lose some of those 200 pounds. But gain a whole lot more of awesomeness along the way.