The One With The Humiliation

Some people are motivated very easily. They know they have to do something and they do it.

Others, like myself, know they have to do something but can't seem to get around to it. Something better, more reasonable, or something easier comes along and they do that instead. These people need a kick in the pants hard enough to jump start their motivation. An event that shows them exactly how dire a circumstance has become and that swift action is needed.

I received this kind of jump start yesterday. And let me tell you all something...

Humiliation is a HUGE motivator.

Since the beginning of October I have been looking forward to trying out a new attraction downtown on Fremont Street. A company installed a zipline that shoots you high above the street underneath the Fremont Street Experience canopy. I have had several friends and co-workers ride this experience and all have said how amazing it was. I told Charming that was all I wanted to do for my birthday. Because we were in Massachusetts on our days off before my birthday we decided to go down yesterday and experience the thrills and chills for ourselves.

Leading up to yesterday I was so excited about being able to ride this zipline I was talking to everyone about it. I told people in Massachusetts when we were visiting. Other co-workers knew about me going, I mentioned it to friends that rode earlier in the week that I would be doing it myself on Wednesday. Of course, I put it Facebook. One of my friends at work even set me up with a VIP pass since she knew the guy who ran the company that created the ride. I was psyched! It was the first time in a long time I was looking forward to something fun.

We arrived down at Fremont Street around 4:30 PM. I wanted to make sure I got in at least three rides and at least one of those at night while all the lights of downtown pulsated and flashed around me. As we walked up to the area where you start the ride I stood transfixed as I watched people zipping along, screaming in delight high above me and couldn't wait to get up there myself. I love these kinds of things, roller coasters, amusement rides, etc. Very rarely do I get the opportunity to go on them any more since Charming no longer seeks these thrills himself. However, he was excited about the zipline too and was planning on joining me for the ride.

Now, I knew about there being a weight limit. I am realistic that they can not let everyone go down the zipline for insurance reasons. If you are too heavy the equipment may not work properly. I certainly did not wish to be splattered all over the pavement while drunk tourists sidestepped my broken body. So I made sure to check with my friend about what the weight requirements were. She assured me it was 260 pounds. Knowing I in no way weighed close to that I felt sure that I could ride safely.

We walked into the ticket office and I asked for who my friend told us would be helping us with the VIP package. Immediately they knew my name and said how excited they were for me to try the ride for my birthday. They handed us the release forms and we began to fill them out. When we were done the young girl sealed my fate with one sentence:

"Okay, and if you could just step on the scale right over here we'll make sure you are not over the weight limit."

Something made me pause. I knew what my friend had told me about the weight limit but I needed to ask this girl who actually worked here what the number was.

"So, what is the weight limit?" I asked.

"250 pounds," she replied.

Now, I haven't weighed myself since January when I went to the gyno and they did their yearly checks and balances of my physique. I knew I wasn't nearly close to 250 then, but something chilled me in that instant. Right then I feared I was going to be humiliated in the worst way possible for a woman to be humiliated.

I stepped on the scale and read the numbers that flashed in front of me in disbelief.

257.5.

257.5? Two hundred and fifty-seven and a half pounds? How? How do I weigh that much?

A part of my brain couldn't fathom a number that high in reference to my weight. I felt like those people on The Biggest Loser who step on the scale for the first time and can't believe the number that comes up. I couldn't weigh that much. I didn't feel like I weighed that much. I didn't look like I weighed that much when I saw myself in the mirror. Sure, I knew I was heavy but not THAT heavy. How could that be my number? How could I have gained over 100 pounds in the seven years since we got married? HOW?? I was blindsided. I was horrified. I was humiliated.

The worst part was having to tell the smiling young girl, so excited for me to ride and who now looked like someone punched her kitten in the face, that I guess I would have to lose ten pounds and come back. She quickly recovered and nodded and said yes, of course, come back when you...

And her trailing off there was what almost made me break down in front of her. Come back when you don't weigh so much and can ride is what I filled in for myself. I managed to get outside before the tears began to fall. How did I let this happen to myself? I was never the skinny girl but I have never EVER been like this. I was so ashamed of myself that I just started sobbing in the middle of the street, which made me even more upset because now I was the fat, crying girl losing it in public.

Then I thought about everyone who knew about me riding the zipline and expecting a report back of how it was. My parents, friends, co-workers, even my brother-in-law who had called us right before we went into the building and told us to have fun and let him know how it went. What was I going to tell all of them? I would have to relive this humiliation over and over again as I confessed I didn't ride because I wasn't allowed due to my weight.

Charming was amazing. He held me and told me we could fix this. He said we would get up every day and walk at least a half an hour to start. I would stop drinking soda and we would both start eating better and not late at night. He became my champion, my coach and from the way he kicked my ass around this morning he may just get me to my goal.

Because that total humiliation proved to me I can't put off losing weight any longer. I needed to do something now because I am on the edge of disaster. Everything in my life depends on me turning things around right now. Because I will have an easier time with my stomach issues, with my knee, with getting pregnant, with possibly being HAPPY, if I just stick with this and lose some weight. I am miserable and I am a mess, but I can fix it.

And I have some goals. One long-term and one short-term. The long-term one is to make myself healthy and baby-friendly. The short-term one is simpler. To lose 15 pounds by the end of December so I can go back to that zipline and ride the ride I have been waiting for.

And I'm getting an all-day pass and riding the hell out of it.