What have I gotten myself into?

Oh dear. For some reason I was born with this inability to say no to people.

Now I really wish I had of said no.

But let me back up a little bit.

For the purposes of this blog, I shall call myself Cinderella Big Butt. Is it a cutesy name? Kind of. But I couldn't just be plain old Big Butt! It's true but its not exactly the most pleasant way to refer to oneself. Cinderella Big Butt it is.

Have I always had a big butt? For sure. I was the chubbiest primary school kid going around. It was cute then. NOTE TO SELF: Fat is not cute at the age of 21. In fact, it's just...fat.

This journey all began around 11 weeks ago when a new weight loss centre opened right near my work. I thought I would venture in, poke around, and pacify myself that I had made some attempt at losing weight that month. And then stuff myself full of lindt chocolate balls, praising myself internally for my weight loss efforts.

It didnt turn out that way. Thank God for that.

I walked into the weight loss centre thinking that it would be a room full of hugely overweight people and I would look skinny in comparison. Wrong. In fact, I was the biggest there. I thought perhaps I was the youngest- nope, a 16year old was there too.

Whilst contemplating perhaps my perceptions of my weight were not in tune with my actual image, a lovely, slender woman came up to me and asked me if I was interested in losing weight.

I nodded yes, because I was interested in losing weight. Not so much interested in changing my lifestyle, but she didn't need to know that.

Before I know it, I was being shown before and after pictures. In the first shot was always a frumpy, old looking, unfashionable woman smiling for some occassion, like a birthday or Christmas. In the next shot, those same women were slim, tiny, youthful looking women who were glowing with happiness- and wearing grins triple the size of the ones in the previous shots. REAL grins.

I joined a line of women that were all new members and looking at the information the lovely slender woman had given us...and before I knew it I was at the front of this line. And sitting, mocking me silently from the floor, was the devil incarnate: otherwise known as the scales.

Pure panic gripped me. I thought about just dropping all of the information I was given and making a run for it out the front door. No- I have to walk past this place everyday for work. Perhaps I could think of a reasonable excuse not to weight myself. The only excuse I could think of was that I had a deathly allergy to stainless steel....not so believeable.

So I manned up and stood in front of the dreaded scales. The helpful weight loss centre employee asked what I expected myself to weigh. I thought about this quickly- my last weight loss attempt (failed of course, after only 2 weeks) left me weighing in at 90kgs. I figured that was over a year and a half ago and I could have put on weight since then, although I hadnt noticed. I decided to over-estimate by about 6kgs, so when I weighed less I could feel smug and be like 'Oh! less than I thought! Wonderful!'

I stepped on those scales with a slight smirk. I knew I was overweight, hell, obese and I was not happy with that. But I also knew people who weighed more than I did so for some strange reason that made me feel at ease.

I stood off the scales, not looking at the number, saving my surprise for when the weight loss leader told me I weighed less than expected. She did not say anything, but wrote a number down on my new member application form. A big number.

Wait- I thought. Did she just write down 3 Digits? THREE DIGITS? AS IN, TRIPLE FIGURES?

It turns out she had. The figure that was in front of me made me almost want to be sick- 106.6kgs.

Now some people realise they have a problem by different things. A drinker may realise there is an issue when they drink by themselves. A drug addict when they steal from family or friends. I had always told myself I would never ever let myself get to 100kgs. 100kgs was just too big...100kgs was those people in the late night documentaries called 'Trapped' or something similar, who couldn't leave the house, or even their beds! 100kgs was.....just plain FAT! It wasn't 'big boned', 'chubby' 'a big girl' or 'more to love'. 100kgs was just plain OBESE!

That was my lightbulb moment. That was over 11 weeks ago. So far I have lost 8.1kgs and am starting to notice changes in the way I look. Don't get me wrong- at 164cms and 98.5kgs I still look obese. In fact, being so short, I look like a beach ball with legs. No exaggeration. I still have a ginormour bubble butt and gut that looks like im about to give birth, but there have been changes. When I touch my chest now, I can feel my collar bone straight away. My stomach, although still protruding, does not poke out further than my breasts. (Trust me, it wasn't a good look). Spekaing of breasts, gone down a cup size. Not really happy with that- but I cant expect to lose my butt and stomach but keep a hold of my E cups. And DD is still more than any one person needs in the boob department!

So now that I have you up to speed, lets get back to my inability to say no to people.

I work in advertising, and have recently done an advertisement for a company who specialise in female only bootcamps. The lady who I did the ad for is absolutely gorgeous- a softly spoken, slightly built woman who is very kind and easy to deal with. Stupidly I let slip that I have been trying to lose weight and so far it is working, using diet alone.

She reccommends her bootcamp, I smile and say I will think about it.

I forget about it and get on with my week- watching what I eat, working, walking the dog, cleaning the house...all of those wonderful domestic things that make the week go quicker.

Fast forward to Friday afternoon- the end of a long week in sales, staying behind late again. The phone rings, and I contemplate letting it ring out. I decide to answer it in case it's the boss- I want her to know im staying behing and putting extra hours in!

It's the lady from Bootcamp. From here on in, I shall refer to her as SHE WHO CONVINCES ME TO DO SOMETHING THAT WILL KILL ME. Joking. We will call her Ms A. Ms A tells me that she has only one spot left in her program, and she would be so nice as to let me have one full week trial- if I don't like it after a week, I can walk away no questions asked.

I consider it. And then offer some feeble excuse why I can't.

Being the expert sales person, and someone who is genuinely interested in seeing my get myself fit, she handles my objections left and right, and before I realise, the phone is back on the hook and I've agreed to Bootcamp.

The shock hit me like a slap in the face.

WHAT THE HELL WAS I DOING? HAVEN'T YOU SEEN THOSE ARMY MOVIES? BOOTCAMP IS HELL- EVEN FOR FIT PEOPLE!

WILL THERE BE OTHER UNFIT AND OVERWEIGHT PEOPLE THERE?

WILL I STICK OUT LIKE DOGS BALLS?

And then came the practical reasons...

You havent jogged, let alone ran, for over 2 years.
You get tired from walking for only 15 mins.
You huff and puff and cough when you walk briskly.

YOU DON'T EVEN OWN ANY SNEAKERS!!!!
And so here I am.

I feel quite sick in my stomach- I'm very scared that I will be the only overweight person there, and all the buff girls will laugh and make fun of me. Im also smart enought to know that that's not likely- they will be working too hard to pay any attention to me.

And what if they all look like, well this-



And I look like...well, an obese person! What I am!

I am being realistic when I say I will be the most unfit person there.

I'm shitting bricks!

Tomorrow is Session 1, Week 1, (Bootcamp goes for three sessions a week, 5 weeks long)

Wish me luck, hope you enjoyed my first blog, and expect to hear every sordid little detail from Day 1 Bootcamp...ARGGH!