My Big, Fat Weight Loss Campaign: Part 5—Is That a Light at the End of the Tunnel? Or Is It That Damn Train Again?

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My apologies to the artist. This was uncredited, but if anyone knows who the artist is–other than “hir”– I would like
to acknowledge them.

It has now been 15 weeks since the start of my “Big, Fat Weight-Loss Campaign.”

In 15 weeks, I have lost only two pounds. Despite taking Ozempic for six of those weeks. Despite exercising almost every day. Despite the physical therapy, personal trainer, and health club membership (which I am actually using this time). Despite being on Weight Watchers and sticking to it except for Friday dinners.

THIS is why I hate trying to lose weight. It feels like I have to claw it off, ounce by ounce. I only lose in tiny increments, and only if I work at it all the time. That’s why I gave up in the first place— losing weight feels like a full-time job with no salary or benefits. Or promotions. Or stock options. And definitely no holiday party.

I will stop whining now. I wrote a much longer whine, but realized no one would want to read it. Here is what I decided: Ozempic didn’t help and it gives me red, itchy rashes. So, Ozempic is not my knight in shining armor; I need to rescue myself. I stopped taking Ozempic two weeks ago. No change in weight.

But if I am honest about it, there have been significant changes:

  • I dropped a dress size. 
  • I can make it up the 32 steps to my front door without panting (much)
  • My balance is better
  • I don’t get as tired
  • I lost at least five inches around my waist 

I am at a loss to explain how all this could happen without losing any weight, but people keep telling me that muscle weighs more than fat. That’s fine, but I don’t think my surgeon is going to accept dress size as proof that I am ready for knee replacement surgery. And the sense of disappointment when I weigh myself weekly does drag me down.

I don’t see any remedy except to keep on keeping on. I will up my exercise regimen. I have had a glass of wine or two if I had enough WW points to spare at the end of the day. Maybe that is the problem? Can you eliminate all pleasure from your life and still want to live? I guess I’ll find out.

But before I get back to it, I am wrapping myself around a BLTA sandwich, some chips, and a lot of red wine.

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