How I Lost 25 Lbs. on My Own and Kept it Off

I couldn’t remember a time in my life when I hadn’t been unhappy with my weight. Always a petite girl, I had a much bigger appetite than my small frame could handle and remain svelte. It’s not that I was obese, by any means, but I was always on the chubby side and unhappy with what I saw in the mirror and in photographs. At any given time, I was probably at least 10-15 lbs. over my ideal weight.

When I was 6 years old, I had gained “too much weight in one year,” according to my pediatrician, so he put me on a diet: skim milk, no bread and no sweets. It was extremely restricting and scarring for a child that young, especially since I had a slim older sister who could eat all the Pepperidge Farm cookies she wanted and never gain an ounce. My mother forced me to adhere to the strict regimen, and I took little packets of sliced roast beef and raw veggies to school for lunch while the other kids were eating delicious-looking sandwiches and snack cakes. Talk about depressing!

I instantly developed a strong dislike for my parents’ bathroom scale, on which my mother weighed me every Saturday morning. That contraption would always betray me, and it was stingy with good news. Is it any wonder that I refused to own a scale for the next 37 years? As an adult, when I went to the doctor and couldn’t avoid getting weighed, I became strategic: I wore the lightest-weight clothing possible and took off my shoes, giving myself the best possible advantage. But those scales betrayed me, too. I rarely was happy with the number, but didn’t know what in the world I could do about it. After all, I exercised nearly every day—good, long, hard cardio workouts with the occasional weight-training class—and ate the right foods: a good, healthy, balanced diet, I thought. So why did the scale refuse to budge?

Clothes shopping was always an emotionally fraught experience for me. I didn’t like the way most clothing fit me, and I would practically break down in tears in the dressing room at times. In addition to being short and having a tendency to gain weight around my mid-section, I was short-waisted and big-busted—not a prescription for looking sleek and elegant, which I craved. On top of that, I had no idea how to dress my body type to its accent my best features and downplay those I didn’t like.

After I got married, I almost immediately gained 10 lbs. I was happy, cooking for my husband and making the lifestyle switch from working full-time in New York City to freelance writing from home. The weight crept on, and even after having two babies and quickly taking the pregnancy weight off both times, my weight still stuck at a number that was 10 pounds higher than what my driver’s license decreed.

And exercise? I tried and stuck with it all: step aerobics, kickboxing, Tae Bo, “walking” tapes, outdoor walking, spinning. I enjoyed them, but still the weight stayed on.

It wasn’t until a few years ago that I finally got my act together. First, the TV show “What Not to Wear” came on the air, and I watched it faithfully each week, gaining tips on how to accentuate a waist to make it look smaller and why horizontal stripes are the worst pattern choice for people who want to look slimmer. So my wardrobe improved. But I still wasn’t all that happy with the way I looked and felt.

Then, a couple of years ago, that all changed. My sister-in-law, who was quite heavy at the time and had tried—successfully and ultimately unsuccessfully—to lose weight, underwent gastric bypass surgery. Several weeks after the procedure, I spoke to her on the phone and she told me the weight was practically melting off, mostly because the surgery makes it impossible to overeat—you simply have no room to put the extra food, and if you do try to eat it, you won’t keep it down for long. A lightbulb went on over my head: eat less=weigh less. Simple, right?

I began to slash my portion sizes. No more second helpings, and I ate half the amount of what I ate before. Employing some behavior-modification techniques I had learned years before, I used smaller bowls, spoons and dishes to help me feel like I wasn’t depriving myself. I drank lots of water, and bought myself a digital scale (much to my husband’s chagrin). I weighed myself every morning, needing to see the results of my efforts—I needed the scale in order to be accountable for what I ate. And guess what? Ten pounds came off in about two months like magic. I loved the way that felt. I also loved the compliments I was beginning to get from my friends and family. But I wasn’t ready to stop yet.

Along with lowering portion sizes, I began to modify my diet, incorporating all the sound weight-loss techniques I had heard and seen over many years of paying attention to the subject. I ate lots of fruit and vegetables—being careful about the amounts of dried and higher-calorie fruits I ate, like dates, prunes and bananas. I also began to eat lots of fish—broiled, grilled, poached or sautéed—and lean protein like chicken, turkey, Egg Beaters and fat-free yogurt. (One of my favorite lunches may not appeal to most people, but I absolutely LOVE herring in wine sauce and eat it with fresh veggies—at least two or three kinds—and hummus on Wasa crackers.) I watched my fat and calorie intake, but didn’t go crazy buying “low-fat” foods. I ate judicious portions of nuts, seeds, nut butters and whole grains. I made sure I ate at least two servings of fruit per day. The one food category that I tried to avoid as much as possible is starchy, refined carbs such as white bread, pasta and crackers. I also limited sweets, but found I was satisfied with a bite or two of something sweet, rather than an entire big piece or bowl of it. Shazaam! Another 10 lbs. was gone three months later. Now I was getting compliments from not just friends and family, but acquaintances—even people I saw all the time at the gym or at my daughters’ school but had never spoken to were coming up to me to tell me how great I looked. What a fantastic feeling that was!

At this point, I had a number in my head—a final goal—that I was trying to reach. It wasn’t easy, and it took another few months to reach that goal, with lots of plateaus along the way, but I finally did reach it: a total of 25 lbs. lost. Now I’ll admit, those final two or three lbs. were really vanity pounds—I wanted to be able to say that I had lost 25 lbs., and I wanted to be a certain number. But in reality, my weight fluctuates between that low number and three lbs. higher. And that’s OK. I think that’s really where my body wants to be. I still like the way I look and feel, and I still like the way clothes look on me.

Speaking of clothes, after the first 10-lb. loss, I was amazed at how well clothes were beginning to look on me. Pretty soon, I could no longer wear the jeans I’d been wearing for years—they were hanging off me! I now loved going clothes shopping and was shocked when I saw how low the sizes were on the clothes that fit. I loved what I saw in the mirror, too—and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt that way.

Oh, and my husband—the one who didn’t want me to buy the scale—has lost 20 lbs. eating more or less the way I do, and kind of by default because that’s the way I cook now. And he weighs himself every morning, too. He also walks with me on weekends (and catches up to me when I add in sprints and running intervals), and his fitness level has improved dramatically, as well.

In fact, the greatest change for me has been in my fitness level. I started doing spinning classes about five years ago, but when I started losing the weight, I noticed I was able to push harder and stronger through the classes. Even though I’d exercised for years, I never used to run or think of myself as an athlete. But this year I’ve run two 5Ks—coming in at a respectable under-9-minute mile in each—and am considering training for a half-marathon (although I think I’ll tackle a 10K first). This is the same girl who used to get side cramps before running a mile and who got excused from running in gym class. That same girl is thinking about running a half-marathon at age 45?! Preposterous!

As for maintenance, I stick to my weight-loss plan 95% of the time, but I do allow myself a few more healthy calories and a full (small) serving of a treat every now and then. Because I continue to weigh myself every day, I know when it’s time to cut back and when I can allow myself an indulgence, and I don’t get upset if I gain a pound—just cut back the next day, maybe work out a little harder to burn extra calories. Remember: this way of eating is not about deprivation, it’s about learning to manage your weight, just like you’d learn to manage your budget. And I believe anyone can do it.

So to all the people who think the losing weight battle is simply a losing battle, I say don’t give in to that negative thinking. You can do it! But first you need to get real with yourself about your health and fitness goals, your weight, your diet and your exercise habits. There’s no other smart way to lose weight and keep it off. It starts with the first step. Good luck!