The Silent Plea

Dear Friends,
I need help.
I am out of control, and I don't know how to stop.
Those of you who have known me a long time, or have even regularly read this blog for awhile, know my struggle with weight--a battle with my scale that has been raging for as long as I can remember.
You've heard me say I was out of control before, and you've heard me say I had to make a change.
This time, though, something's different.
I'm scared.
I'm the heaviest I've ever been, and I'm scared.
I'm scared of this place I'm  in.  I'm scared of the disappointment that lies in my closet.  I'm scared of what I'm doing to my body and my health.  I'm scared I don't have the srength to overcome this.  I'm scared of the future if I don't.
I make jokes, self-deprecate, play if off, and change the subject--all to deflect and distract from the scary reality of how I really feel.  An act that's not fooling anyone, really--least of all me.
I need God's help to make it through every tempation-filled day, for every moment I've known success in this life has been with Him by my side.
I'm asking for your help in the form of thoughts and prayers.  Prayers for strength, resolve, commitment, and success against this demon I've been fighting most of my life.  Your thoughts and prayers would mean more to me than I could possibly convey.
Thanks for being there, thanks for listening.
Thanks for everything, always.
All my love,

One Month In

Number of movies seen:  10
Number of times dining out:  10
          *****For a take-out queen like myself, this is, like, wow. 
Number of pounds lost:  7
Number of books read:  5
Number of coupons clipped:  5
Number of fun future excursions planned:  4
          *****Stay tuned for future updates...
Number of workouts with Jillian:  3
Number of school projects completed:  3
Number of fabulous Broadway shows seen:  1

Seasons Change

It's been a totally bizarre bit of an odd week.  Not particularly bad, not particularly good.  Just odd.
I was all poised and ready to make this big confession/revelation via blog, but I totally wussed out feel led in another direction.  It's coming, I promise; it just may come a little later than I had originally intended...
It sort of feels like the winds of change blew in more than cooler temperatures this week.  What's old is new, and what used to be desirable is repulsive just doesn't cut it anymore.  People have emerged from the shadows and changed the way I look at things, and others who were formerly central characters in my so-called life have been seemingly written off the page.
I know I'm not making a bit of sense, but I just don't really know how to explain what's going on in my life at the moment.  I don't mean to be purposely evasive and scramble your brains talk in code; it appears that this is the only way it can manifest at the moment.
I think everything that's happening is good.  Honestly, I think even the bad stuff is good.  I feel like things are changing, and, although that's something that often scares the hell out of me not something I am always psyched about, I feel positive as this week draws to a close.  
I mean, with weather like this and fall everywhere you look, who can possibly stay in a bad mood?

In other news, I wanted to give ya'll a beginning of the month weight-loss update.  To date, I'm up to 19 lbs, which I can't help but be proud of.  It's still coming off at a snail's pace slow, but at least it's coming off, eh?  Thanks so much for all of your thoughts, prayers, and encouraging words; they've meant to much.  I've been thinking about and praying for all of you who expressed to me that you're fighting this battle, too, and I hope you've seen some success these last two weeks, as well.  Keep up the good work, and I'll keep it up on my end!

Finally, Happy October!  I love this month, and it seems like everybody is happier when the pumpkins and the mums start popping up all over the place.  I know it certainly puts a spring in my step, and a Starbucks caramel apple spice or hot chocolate doesn't hurt anything either certainly sweetens up a cool morning. (I know, I know... they have like a hundred million thousand calories; I've only smelled them while I walk through the union or bookstore gulping my water like it's an apple martini chocolate milk, I promise.  Pinky swear.)  Anyway, I hope your fall and your October are off to a great start, and I hope you all have a great weekend!

Oh, and I got the most fabulous manicure today and, because I'm a total goob in honor of the game Saturday, Lara painted my nails with the most perfect maroon; it was like it was made for Mississippi State.  Can't wait to cheer for those Bulldogs!          

It's Time

Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels.

This I know to be true. I've been on the diet coaster since practically before I wore a training bra, and I'll probably be on a diet in the nursing home. You name it, I've probably tried it cheated on it. I've known the high highs of successful weightloss, and I've also, at times, contemplated smashing every mirror and reflective surface with which I come into contact.

I know by heart the variables that form the perfect equation for shifting the scale, and I'm also an expert at blowing a diet in record time. I have the workout videos, the workout clothing, and the gym membership, but I also have the ability to make every excuse in the book and make everything else a priority. You know I can't possibly forfeit one mindless vital television show, but I sure can't ever quite find enough time to squeeze in a workout.

I know what my problem is. I adore am obsessed with love food. I like the idea of food (cooking, etc.), and I love the social aspect of food. I like to eat food; I like to talk about food. Food, however, doesn't care much for me, or maybe it likes me too much? Perhaps a love/hate thing or something...

The spiral is usually about the same. I'm going strong for a few hours, a day, several days, maybe even a week. Then I start to think about food and all the food I'm not "allowed" to have, and it's like a magnetic force. The theme song from Jaws starts to play in my mind, and it's like a ticking time bomb. It's only a matter of time before I'm eating every cookie on the planet and drinking every Dr. Pepper I've ever seen.

So, why am I telling you all this? Why, few close friends and various assorted strangers, am I spilling my guts about this lifelong struggle? (That just made me think about that show on Nickelodeon, Guts. Do y'all remember that show?) Anyway, the reason I'm opening my mouth heart and spewing all my info out all over the place is this: insanity accountability. Maybe knowing I've told all to all of you and knowing you're sitting in judgment observation of me will serve as a constant reminder of what I'm trying to do.

I've decided I need someone to be accountable to, and, condolescences congratulations (!), I've picked you. You have permission to slap my hand, remind me of my commitment, and use cliches on me. ("I'm doing this because I love you.") I would love your help; I will cherish your encouragement; and I need your prayers, for I know I'm really needing to do this:

and I promise I'm going to try. (Don't think you're never going to see me eat a pizza again. Let's be real here.) I'm off to a relatively good, though slow, start; I've lost 15 lbs since March... which is better than nothing, right?

So, anyway, your responsibility ends here. Just being there to listen is all the pressure support I need. I solemnly swear that this blog will not turn into some sort of weightloss diary sob story.

Ugh... what a snooze (for both of us).

For now I'm feeling strong and my iron will is firmly in place, but I know there will be days I come home feeling like this:

and will want to eat all of this:

For those days, I ask for your prayers, forgiveness, and listening ears in advance.

I'll keep you updated on this portion of my saga continuing journey. This is not really about a crash diet or dieting for a specific event; it's more about a lifestyle change, and, let's be honest, it's just something I need to do. Even more than that, I want to.

All tips, recipes, ideas, bullying, encouragement, and prayers are welcomed, appreciated, and wanted. Like Screech said to Zack (I think), "I want to pump [clap] you up."

Oh, and if any of the three two people I know who live in Starkville want to work out, I'm totally game. (I mean, the embarrassment would be minimal for you because clearly I'm a senior citizen. Maybe you could even get community service hours or something?)

So, jump on board. It's going to be terrible fun terribly fun.

Oh, and did I mention I am starving right now?! (All this talk of food, perhaps... or the pictures of food...)
Off to a miserable fabulous start, huh?

Change of Heart

So, I had a whole plan mapped out in my head on this fun blog I was going to do after returning from a much-needed, relaxing weekend in Jackson visiting with some of my favorites. Now that I sit down to write it, however, I feel led go in another direction.
Now, mind you, I did have an absolutely incredible weekend. I was able to see some truly fun people, have some great talks, eat lots of amazing food, make a few new purchases, and have a much-needed escape from Starkville. In addition, I left town with almost all of my work for this week already done, so I was able to keep my books closed all weekend, guilt free (something which I almost never get to do).
But, like I said, I feel pulled to write about one aspect of the weekend in particular. Becca, Kari Ann, and I went to church this morning, and I can't get the service out of my head. (I don't mean that like it sounds; I just mean that clearly God is trying to tell me something, for it hasn't left my mind since I left the church this morning.)
The sermon this morning was about our body being God's temple, and that they are not ours, but His. We are to take care of them and preserve them, for they are not our own. This was not a totally new concept for me, but I think it was certainly something I needed desperately to hear. The pastor's ultimate message was that happiness begins with healthiness, and healthiness begins with Jesus.
What could be more true?
He talked about abusing our bodies with promiscuity, overeating, undereating, drugs (both illegal and legal), tobacco, and alcohol. I think it would be safe to say that almost everyone in that audience either does or has struggled with at least one of those vices at some point in their lives, but it was like God was tapping me on the shoulder and saying,
"Hey, Lauren Springer... I hope you're listening to this because you know it's for you."
Please allow me to speak candidly.
I have body issues. Long standing, deep rooted, insecurities and neuroses about my physical appearance. I don't wear these on my sleeve or talk about them all the time, but they are always there. I can't remember a time when I was without them, and I struggle with these constantly.
However, I continue to treat my body like a garbage can. I trash this temple every single day, and I only just today realized that to be a blatantly disrespectful act toward God. The sermon this morning gave me a whole new perspective on taking better care of myself and my body, not for my own glory but for His.
I don't fall victim to all of the poisons I mentioned above by any means, but I treat my body badly enough with the toxins I do indulge in. I spent the better part of the church service with tears welled up in my eyes and occasionally spilling down my cheeks, and I'm pretty sure that, had I been alone, I would have probably sobbed out loud.
I am by no means saying that I will never eat another pizza or drink another bottle of wine, but I am praying for self control and a change in my way of thinking; this is not just for me anymore, it's for Him. I pray tonight that God will help me to restore His temple for my healt and, ultimately, His glory.
Any prayers you sent my way would be cherished, and, as always...
thanks for listening.

Loser Magnet

I have spent the majority of the last two hours sitting on my couch blubbering like a baby, but, this is pretty much standard fare for me on Tuesday nights at seven o'clock. No, I don't attend a regularly scheduled pity party at this time; it's simply when The Biggest Loser come on.

I'm sure at least a few of you are rolling your eyes at this point, and that's okay. I roll my eyes when people talk about watching Desperate Housewives, so I guess it all evens out.

Perhaps you've never watched the show, or perhaps you just don't see what could possibly be enjoyable about watching these overweight people sweat for two solid hours? Perhaps you think all they do is whine, and if they had any self-control they wouldn't have gotten themselves into this situation in the first place? Perhaps you'd just rather watch American Idol?

Fair enough.

I, however, started watching this show several seasons ago and have been hooked ever since. I literally weep every single week, as I watch these people change their bodies and their lives. As a person who struggles with weight issues daily, many of their stories resonate with me, and I get great inspiration from their strength and hard work. Some days it seems like I've been on a diet since I was eleven and tried every fad; seeing someone else fighting that battle and winning it makes my heart soar. Like I said, I sit on the couch and weep every week.

Seriously, I have tears rolling down my cheeks; my eye makeup pools hideously under my eyes; sometimes I can't catch my breath and I get the hiccups. (Perhaps it's good that so few people I know share my affinity for this show, as it gives me latitude to watch the show in glorious solitude and sob to my heart's content?)

This season I secretly get an added pleasure from watching the show, for I have a mini-crush on Mike, the 18-year-old contestant who has lost over 150 pounds in sixteen weeks. He's sweet and cute, and he has the most perfect teeth. Ah, to be a few (ahem, six) years younger...