Archive | September 2013

Week 4: Water, Water Everywhere

Sep27

This past week, I hit a speed bump. I’ve been pretty happy for the past 3+ weeks to have lost a nice amount of weight (15 pounds before this week; see the update on that, below), and to only have seen losses on the scale.

I know, though, that at some point, that would change, and that’s the detriment of weighing daily; no matter what I feel like otherwise, that number on the scale does destructive things to my brain. My evil negative-talking alter ego jumps out and starts feeding on my insecurities.

From a purely physiological standpoint, I know that I’m on track with my diet. If a calorie is a calorie is a calorie (a subject I have some opinions about, but I’ll leave for another day), it takes 3500 calories over and above what your body needs to maintain itself in order to gain one pound of fat. While I am on a low carb plan, I also pay attention to calories. I track my food and water intake religiously.

So, last weekend, when the scale drifted up two pounds, I knew I hadn’t overeaten 7000 calories that added on a little over two pounds in just as many days. What I was carrying was water weight. I could feel the bloat and the discomfort in my joints. Historically, my body has gained up to fifteen pounds of excess water weight, and let me tell you — that’s extremely painful. In the grand scheme of things, those two additional pounds were just something to watch and take note of. I adapted by making sure I fully hydrated each day, because the body may retain fluids when it’s dehydrated.

Everything else was below the threshold I set for myself in order to lose weight. I didn’t deviate. So, the extra weight was water, and in time, the water would filter out of my body.

Logically, anyway.

 

But that’s when my bad brain starts kicking me around.

“Oh, sure, it’s water weight! You did something wrong. You failed. You’re lying to yourself.”

“Every morning when you step on the scale, you’re making it worse. What you’re doing isn’t working. Why are you making this effort if it isn’t going to work?”

“Is that whole ‘water retention’ theory even legit? How long are you going to let yourself continue to gain weight from ‘water retention’ before you do something about it, like go get a diuretic to get rid of it? How do you know, for sure, it’s water?”

“Making excuses already? Do you even believe this crap you tell yourself?”

The negative self-talk is a huge problem for me. I’m writing this blog on Thursday night; tomorrow morning, Friday, is my official weigh-in day, and I haven’t been below my lowest weight since last Friday. There’s a diseased part of me that wants desperately to wake up in the morning and not only see a two pound loss of the water I gained, but a couple more pounds loss in addition, so I can report at least a two pound loss this week. I’m that competitive — with myself, telling myself that if I can’t achieve that simple number, I’m failing.

And worse: if I’m failing, I should give up.

 

Because I’ve done that every single time before — and giving up worked so well for me. (*insert eye roll*) It’s dumb to give up and give in to that voice, and I know it. Sometimes that voice is just a little whisper, and sometimes it screams at me. Sometimes, I imagine it even comes out of other people’s mouths, actions, or attitudes when they do or say something that I perceive as criticism of my weight.

Matthew Inman, author of The Oatmeal comics, even addressed this in one of his comics; he calls it The Blerch (http://theoatmeal.com/comics/running). This is a must-read if you’re working on getting healthier; his description of The Blerch is pretty close to that nasty voice that plagues me at times when I’m vulnerable.

I accept that the voice exists, and while I acknowledge it, that doesn’t mean I’m going to give in. No, logic has to prevail when I reach the inevitable speed bump, like I did this week. I have to shut out the voice.

 

It’s Friday morning, now. The weigh-in: I’m still at 15 pounds down, so it’s unchanged for the week. The good news is that the difference in weight is only .2 pounds up from last week; higher, but the water weight is decreasing. I’ll take that. I’d love to report a higher number for pounds lost, but that will come in time.

Next week will complete one month on plan; I’ll be measuring, taking photos again, and reviewing how things have gone. At this point, if 15 pounds turns out to be the final for the month, I’m okay with it: that’s 15 pounds that used to be attached to my body and isn’t, anymore.

Week 3: Daily Life

Sep20

Good news, my friends: I’m 15 pounds down, now — 15.2 as of this morning, to be exact. And why not? To me, every .2 pounds counts. (My scale reads in .2 increments.)

Of course, I’d love to be about 215.2 pounds down, but I know this weight will be slow coming off; a lot slower than it went on, no doubt. Still, I’m thrilled with a three pound loss, this week, since the two week mark is typically when the initial water weight is lost and the body catches up from initial losses. Last week, I figured I’d have no loss at all this week. So, three pounds? Oh, yeah.

That’s a 15 pound sweet potato, folks. My body is now missing 15 pounds it had, before.

I want and need to remember to be happy about every single pound gone, and not get in a hurry about things. I know I have a tough, long fight ahead of me, and so far, it’s been quite easy; but then, the beginning of diets usually are. It’s when the stalls, plateaus, cravings, and mental hurdles arrive that it becomes tough.

Right now, I’m focusing on living my life realistically while I wait for the larger loss. There are considerations in my life that even moderately heavy people don’t tend to worry about; I will be happy when these things are no longer a factor. One of my big fears is going somewhere public and hoping they have chairs that can accommodate my weight. We’re going to such a place tomorrow; it’ll be a gorgeous fall day and we’ll be at a restaurant, with friends, where we typically like to sit out on the deck and enjoy the weather. But — they have plastic chairs outside, and I fear sitting in one and breaking it.

That’s a real fear, by the way; there’s a diner in my little town, and they have 60’s and 70’s style tables and chairs — the kind most of us middle-aged folks saw in our homes, growing up. These aren’t standard-issue restaurant chairs, in other words. I was a lot smaller than I am, now, and managed to bust one to pieces a couple years ago.

Embarrassed? Oh.hayell.YES.

Along with embarrassment comes the real possibility of getting hurt. The impact of a falling 350+ body on an arm put out to brace the fall, for example, can cause some damage. I fear that. I fear falling of any kind. I’m looking forward to the day when I’m low enough in weight that a simple fall, which happens to all of us, no longer scares me.

I also fear events for similar reasons, and I have several such events coming up. Because of my extreme weight, walking is painful; I have severe arthritis, which means every step is bone grinding on bone. This isn’t as bad when I weigh less, but right now, it’s agony; and yet, I’m torn, because I don’t want to be the one that holds back my husband or friends from activities. I dread and fear them, not only because of the pain of walking, but because I get out of breath easily, sweat, and need frequent sitting breaks; things my husband, family, friends do not need — and I don’t think they understand, either.

An aside: I don’t take myself out of events because I’m fat and lazy. I take myself out of them because they are extremely painful for me. While there’s a difference, I don’t consider either one a valid excuse, but that doesn’t stop me from becoming anxious and embarrassed about doing things other people find easy, like walking or just standing and talking.

The good news for me, and what I keep reminding myself of in these early weeks, is that I’m doing something to change that. My first major event is in less than a month, and while I’m both fearful and excited to go, I also know that because I’m making an effort now, it will be easier for me during that event and the ones to follow. While 15 pounds isn’t even 5% of my body weight, it’s still weight gone, and it still makes a difference.

Every single pound makes a difference. Every single fraction of a pound is that much less weight that’s pushing down on my knees, that much less fat that’s crowding my internal organs, that much less of a burden for me to carry when I’m living my daily life. Every .2 pounds less I weigh changes the chances of me breaking a chair. 😉

I often get frustrated when I think about how much weight I have to lose; how many jeans/dresses/tops I have, waiting for me to drop any number of pounds; how it’s changed my life to something I totally abhor; how great a feeling it was to have weighed so much less, and what I could do, back then. Instead, I need to remember that the changes I’m making, today, have an impact today, as well as in the future.

Putting in the effort today makes today better — and tomorrow even greater.

Week 2: Back in the Game

Sep13

I’m past the ten day mark in my diet, now — and while that certainly doesn’t seem like a long time at all, there have been plenty of times when I’ve meant to make a commitment to healthier eating and haven’t made it this far. Those times, I really wasn’t ready, and I think you have to be in the right mindset to successfully start any sort of a weight loss program.

12 pounds of bowling ball!

I’m feeling pretty good, and when I did my weigh-in this morning, I was pleasantly surprised to find 12 pounds gone. In fact, this surpassed my hopes; I was hoping for a 10 pound loss, since I was at 9.6 pounds down just yesterday. 12? I’ll take it! Passing 10-pound increments, whether it’s in loss or in weight, gives me a happy little dieter’s thrill.

I’ve had a few challenges over the past week; weekends are tough, and so are networking events like the one I had last night. Our company attended a Chamber of Commerce event that included a catered meal, and rather than risk whether there would be appropriate food available, I brought a couple of Atkins bars with me. (I’m on a low carb plan.) I made it through the evening without beating myself up for bad food choices — because I didn’t make them to begin with. Maybe the scale’s kindness to me, this morning, was karma. 😉

Generally speaking, I’m feeling pretty good; just eating cleanly will often take care of some issues in pretty short order. For instance, I have IBS issues, and eating low carb helps. I’m not carrying as much water weight, so my joints aren’t hurting as much as they were. I’m starting to feel a difference in how my clothes fit.

At this point, I’m excited, and I like being in that state of mind, because often, I begin weight loss efforts with a “fake it ‘til you make it” attitude. I feel more ready for this challenge than I have in a very long time, and although I haven’t really noticed great changes yet, I feel very good just for having started the effort. I feel like I’m doing something for myself that I can be proud of, rather than constantly mentally flogging myself for not choosing healthier options.

That feeling of accomplishment is truly what I need.

Week 1: First Day of the Last Diet Ever

Sep6

This past Tuesday was a special day: it was the first day of my last diet.

That’s my goal: I want that day to be the last ever “first day of diet” that I ever have, because this time, I am going to do everything possible to make it a success.

Of course, that’s the attitude I always start out with, even though the memory of all the previous failures is there. It’s ever-present, that reality, and I have to fight strong to believe that this effort won’t be like every other time I’ve attempted weight loss — just another diet, doomed to failure. It doesn’t have to be that way. Because if I believe that this time won’t be different, I will fail.

I’ve lost 6 pounds total — the approximate size of this large mouth bass.

I’ve decided that the best course of action is to do things that will help me down the road. Starting a diet is easy work; the hard work comes when the scale’s not cooperating, when there’s no evident progress being made, and the temptation to give up is great. With that in mind, I’ve already done a number of things I usually avoid doing when starting a diet, as well as committing myself to things that will hopefully help me in the long run.

They are:

 

I took a starting weight. As elemental as this sounds, there have been times that I’ve been so afraid of the scale that I haven’t done that one thing. In fact, my most successful weight loss journey ever started with not knowing my exact weight, because I didn’t have a scale that could weigh me.

Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush, as much as I’d like to: I am morbidly obese. There’s no hiding or avoiding that fact. Older scales generally only weigh up to 300 pounds, and guess what? I was over 300. The first reading I was able to get, after several weeks of dieting, was 338 pounds. During that journey, I lost 140.5 pounds — based on that starting number of 338, which wasn’t accurate.

This time around, our home scales only weigh to 300 pounds, but we have a gym membership. The gym has a doctor’s scale, so shortly before 5 am on Tuesday morning, I went there to weigh — only to discover that the scale stops at 350.

And I apparently weighed more than that.

We now have a new scale that weighs to 400 pounds, and also takes some other nifty data, like body fat percentage. I was able to weigh myself on Wednesday. While I am thoroughly embarrassed to admit this, that starting number is 371. I could write volumes here about how that number devastated me, but that’s for another blog.

So, although it wasn’t easy by a long shot, I have a starting weight.

I am also weighing daily, which I haven’t done with a diet for quite some time. I’m charting daily weights to see if I can detect any trends, and each Friday, I’ll post the lowest weight for that week.

 

I took starting measurements. The last few times I’ve dieted, I have skipped this. I can’t even really tell you why, except that it’s avoidance. The dumb thing about skipping measurements is that when I’ve needed some sort of indicator of success, I’ve denied myself the ability to compare and see progress and success.

There are times when I have really needed that reinforcement, and when I’ve denied myself that, I’ve struggled. I’ve done this enough to know that there are times when measurements change and the scale doesn’t, so I’m giving myself the gift of knowing those beginning measurements, this time, so months down the road, when I need the boost, I’ll be able to see the difference and hopefully keep myself on track.

I plan to take new measurements at the first of every month.

 

I took starting photos. During my most successful weight loss journey, I took a photo journal of my progress. I can still look back on that and say “hey, I did it.” While it’s difficult in the early months to see much of a difference, those changes become much more evident over the course of time. It’s another reinforcement of progress, and while I’ll likely take photos monthly, I also will take photos when I hit specific weight goals.

Along those lines, I am also going to take a good head shot photo on a regular basis, and it’ll be one where I fix my hair, do my makeup, and look happy. I’ll use this as an avatar for my various online activities. I’m guilty of using photos that are a year or two old, sometimes older, and it’s important for me to have an accurate idea of what I look like at any given time. Why hide it? I am who I am.

 

I publicly committed myself. I need the support of my friends and relatives, so I felt it was important to make sure those close to me know that I’m working toward improving my health. This blog is an extension of that effort.

As silly and vain as this sounds, the last time I lost weight, I lost around 70 pounds, which is a terrific effort. But my ego took an extreme hit when no one noticed or said anything to me about it. I’d like to believe that I don’t need that ego reinforcement, but apparently, I do; I need people to acknowledge that I’m making the effort and seeing success.

That doesn’t mean I want people gushing over me… no, what I want is the sincere comments of people who actually see a difference, especially from those that don’t realize I’m making an effort to lose weight. This is a slippery slope, and I’d really like to take ego completely out of the picture, but I have to admit to myself that I loved it when I lost 140 pounds and people didn’t even recognize me. That gratification helped keep me on track. And while I’ve written quite a bit about not wanting to be identified by my weight or my weight loss, to a point, that’s not entirely true. I don’t want to be the fattest person in the room; and I don’t want to continually be that woman that lost so much weight (please, let that be the case again!), but inevitably, I’m the sum of my experiences, and that includes the battle I’ve waged with obesity.

 

I privately committed myself. I did something I’ve never done, before: I made a video to Future Me. In it, I explain to the Future Me who’s struggling to stay on plan how it is, right now, to live in this body, to deal with this weight, and why things need to change. I did it in hopes that I’ll watch it when I need a kick in the butt, when I have forgotten the struggles that drove me to the point of recommitting myself to another effort — my last effort, if I’m successful.

There are other things I plan to do during the course of this journey, including things like tracking my symptoms, tracking changes in clothing sizes (for the record, I’m currently in size 28 jeans and 4X shirts), and more. It is a colossal effort, but it needs to be done.

 

I’m 51 years old; my 52nd birthday is next month. This is a gift I’m giving myself; I can’t live like this any longer. I have denied myself any number of pleasurable pursuits because of my weight and subsequent physical problems.

It’s not who I am, today; it’s who I am tomorrow that will make the difference.

(And, by the way, I’m down 6 pounds.)