I’m sure some of you are wondering exactly how hard is the road ahead – the one to looking good naked. Well, I am carrying around 160-pound extra person inside of me named George. I met George about 8 years ago when I was in a car accident that left me with a concussion. George came into my life and fed me with comfort food and gave me an excuse to sit in front of the T.V. George talks me out of all kinds of stuff – “Why not be safe and stay inside today?” “Who in their right mind will ever buy your candles or like your photography?” Not that he’s been all bad – George has protected me from getting emotionally hurt, or so he says. Don did break down that wall, much to George’s chagrin. George loves to drink beer, to smoke and could live on Mexican food. He can never turn down a Krispy Kreme, much less a slice of pizza. During his tenure, he has placed a chokehold on my thyroid, my self-esteem and my willpower. He can’t understand why I feel the need to spend 60 minutes on a treadmill – maybe if the gym would put on the Food Network on one of the T.V.s instead of CNN (he figures the gym wants to exercise your mind in addition to your body – phooey!) In some ways, I imagine him as an older brother – one who can’t pass up a chance to belittle me, but who will always be there to protect me when I need it.

Despite all of this, I have decided George must go. I like fresh fruit and veggies. I could actually be a vegetarian (my grandfather, who owned his own butcher shop, is turning in his grave, I know.). Who am I enlisting to help me eliminate George? Well, Don for one. He’s on his own weight loss quest. We both work out at the same gym, at the same time when we can (he works a lot of night shifts, so it’s usually one weekend day). He’s doing Atkins, so he gets to eat bacon, eggs and cheese – all of George’s favorites. I also have a nutritionist, Dr.P, who is helping me develop a healthy eating plan. My physician, Dr. T, who believes George could be removed surgically (gastric bypass), but who is versed in dealing with stubborn thyroids. My mom, a former high school art teacher (and an awesome artist in her own right), who believes in my artistic capabilities as a photographer. My dad who, along with my friends, can’t understand why I don’t have confidence in my crafting. That is my support group. And, if you continue to come back and read, you will get to know very well.

This may be an uphill battle, but with my wonderful friends and family fighting by my side, I know I will succeed!