A Little Birdie Whacked Me on the Head

I'm one of those people who believes we get messages from God, or the universe, or from our future selves who watch us make mistakes and avoid our destiny, and so scream at us from another dimension, like a psycho baseball dad imploring his kid to steal home.

We get tips from someone or somewhere, little nudges, a reminder of who we are and who we are meant to be. We get these messages from friends, strangers, books, movies, children and of course, Oprah. Sometimes the message is the little bird, chirping in your ear. But if you're like me, you don't pay attention to the message until the bird whacks you in the head.

The kids are calling me fat. My friend Andrea is trying to hook me up with her hot trainer. Patrick started a new diet. I went up a size, which I discovered when my friend Thia helped me pick out an outfit for a benefit dinner, and I almost passed out from sheer humiliation. My friend Mary is running marathons. My clients are constantly reminding me that it's possible to overcome any obstacle. The biggest guy on The Biggest Loser (yes, I'm still watching that show--can't help it) lost almost 200 pounds--so far. And every day someone shares a fat story with me (and by someone I mean people I actually know, or total strangers in forums I shouldn't be trolling or on the TV I shouldn't be watching).

At this point, those annoying little messenger birds are hitting me every single friggin' day. Pretty soon it's going to be a Tippi Hedren moment: death by birds.

I get the message. I need to lose the weight. But the thing is, I'm really, really scared to try again. I've lost weight before, but now it just seems like an impossible goal. What if my body rejects my efforts and I can't lose more than the first ten pounds? What if I lose some weight, and then gain back even more? What if I can't hack it and I let everyone down?

Ugh. I guess I better pay attention and get my ass back in the gym. And get on a bike (for the first time). And reacquaint myself with salad. Heck, Nyack Mary raced across New Zealand, and she wasn't really convinced she could do it until she actually did it. Every week I hear new stories of accomplishment against all odds. Maybe it's not so far fetched after all.

Okay birds, chill. I'm listening. Go bother someone else.