Archives

Time Machine

Aug26

 

I’m absolutely thrilled to be able to say that I’m now 122.8 pounds down! I finally passed that 120 mark, and I’m just 1.2 pounds above my next goal.

I wasn’t sure what to write, this week, until I entered the search string what question would you ask someone who’s successfully lost weight in Google, and one of the surprising topics that came up was about how to talk to someone you love who needs to lose weight.

Guillermo Rigondeaux is a 122 pound boxer. And I’ve lost him, but I’m a fighter, too.

Oh, what a kick in the gut. Because I’ve been asked this a few times. The people who ask mean well and dearly love the people they’re asking about, and maybe — just maybe — most of us have someone in our lives that we wish would take those steps.

I’ve been asked, told, cajoled, chided, intentionally embarrassed, begged with love, threatened, and offered money to lose weight. I won’t even get into the number of people who have seen me as a target for the not-really-a-diet-drug-but-you’ll-lose-weight supplement of the month club. I’ve been told how to lose weight (by people who have never had my particular weight problem or health issues), I’ve been targeted at restaurants, I’ve been asked if I should really be eating whatever thing I was about to eat.

None of that works.

My advice: be there for your loved one, but realize, first, that change requires the internal commitment to succeed. Without it, anything you do will be taken in the wrong light, no matter how loving and well-intentioned you may be. Telling someone they’re overweight and pointing out the health risks of obesity is not only a rude thing to do — it’s offensive. Pretty much all of us who have ever been overweight know what the risks are. Treat us with respect, and be ready to support, whatever that might mean.

I thought about my own situation; how I’d love to have a time machine, now, and go back to the first day of my now nearly three-year-old diet, and tell me that this time is the right time, and I’m going to make it. But even though I was taking the initial steps, I don’t think I would have believed it. I’ve failed so many times that I didn’t hold out much faith for this effort, either. But here I am, more than halfway to what was then an unachievable goal.

What would it have been like, to be my own cheerleader, when I gave up after losing 140 pounds, ten years ago? Would I have taken strong encouragement and kept fighting, or would I have snapped, lashing out that I’ve done everything humanly possible, and none of it was working? I can be pretty set in my ways, and I don’t know that I would have listened, because I convinced myself that I couldn’t go on like I was. And that was true. I should have changed what I was doing long before I hit a wall. I did last for about a year before starting to gain weight, again.

Or even back when I was a teenager, maybe ten or even twenty pounds overweight, thinking that was the end of the world? Would it have helped to have Bitchy Old Lisa go back and tell my father to shove it when he offered me money to lose weight? Would I have chosen healthier ways to go about it, when I made the decision on my own, a few years later?

For all of the hope I have for finally meeting my goals for better health, I don’t think even I could have convinced myself to change course in the dozens of attempts I made over the years, or times when I really could have changed things for myself.

I had to be ready. I had to find the fight and the gumption to dig in and do this for myself. While I’m finally on this path, the biggest gift anyone can possibly give me is to keep supporting me in my efforts.

My advice? If you love someone, let them find their path, and then you can support them and be there for them.

We have to be our own heroes; no one can do it for us.

 

These Boots Are Made For Walkin’

Jun10

 

Twice in just the last week, I’ve stepped out and accomplished things I couldn’t have done just year ago.

Mind you, I’m a slow loser. This time last year, I was about 60 pounds heavier than I am, now. We were headed to Cozumel for vacation. Because of the condition of my knees, my walking was quite limited, and we traveled with a folding wheelchair so we could still get out and do what we wanted.

I don’t walk quite like this, but would if I could!

I was already just under 60 pounds into my weight loss, then, but most of my physical improvements have been since then. I could walk short distances, but the last thing I wanted to do in a foreign country is to push myself to the point of pain. Not on vacation.

Shortly after that, my daughter got married. After her wedding, we went to pubs in the downtown area; my husband pushed me, once again, in the portable wheelchair.

This past Wednesday, I had a meeting to attend in one of the restaurants we visited during that after wedding celebration, and we parked behind the hotel we stayed at last year. After the meeting, my husband and I walked from the restaurant to the parking area. While at first I wasn’t sure, at all, about walking that distance (mind you, it’s less than a quarter of a mile), I did it. I did it fairly easily, too.

I’m pretty sure these days, if I took my time, I could do that same pub crawl without assistance; I’ve gone from using a wheelchair to a cane to walking without a cane or brace in a year. And last weekend, we met friends for a downtown dinner and then to a minor league ballpark — another unknown that resulted in more walking than I expected, and I did just fine.

I’m truly surprising myself, finding I can do more things that I originally think I’m capable of doing. I am quite literally taking small steps, but they are important ones. I can’t wait to see where my abilities take me, next.

 

Timber

May20

No new weight loss this week — but I’m dangerously close!

Years ago, we lived in a house that had a spread of property around it. The previous residents were an older couple, and perhaps in their excitement over living in the country, they planted a lot of trees and bushes. The problem was that their planting was haphazard and didn’t make a lot of sense; they must have just thrown everything in the air and planted it where it landed.

Yes, I did. I totally needed to cut you out of existence, tree.

There was a flowering dogwood tree near the front porch; I love dogwoods, but this one was overshadowed by a very healthy box elder that was planted roughly ten feet away. The box elder was loaded with branches, and blocked the sun from reaching the dogwood. I never much cared for that box elder; it was a nuisance tree that was in a bad spot. No, I wanted that dogwood tree to flourish.

I took my vengeance on that tree. I started by trying to prune it back; a branch here or there. Once I got started on it, I truly decided I wanted that tree gone. It would have been quicker for my husband to go after it with a chain saw, but for reasons that I don’t remember now, that never happened. So I took a small handsaw to it.

If I felt like I needed to vent about something, I’d go vent on that box elder, one branch at a time. It took a long time before the changes were noticeable, but a branch here or there, every once in a while, started letting the sunshine through to the dogwood behind it. By the time it was truly noticeable to the naked eye, probably a third of that tree was gone.

Over the course of months, I cut every branch off that tree, leaving nothing but a tall stump. My husband brought out the chainsaw and finished it off. After that, there was nothing to block the sun from getting to the dogwood, and it bloomed much better after that.

If you’re thinking this is a metaphor… well, it most certainly is. Making change takes persistence and hard work — and the results don’t happen overnight. As long as I’m still working on my weight, it will come off, and I’ll eventually reach that point, where the next phase of making this body all it can be, begins.

 

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

Apr29

 

The purpose of this blog is to help me keep my head straight while I lose weight; it’s my form of accountability, and I believe it has helped me. While I don’t have a loss to report this week, I’d like to revisit some old topics; both for those that might seek some helpful tips, and to remind myself about methods that work. (These tips may not work for everyone; your mileage may vary.)

Accountability. While it’s sometimes very uncomfortable to be public about my journey, knowing I have people who expect me to give them updates helps. There are times when, frankly, I don’t want to talk about weight loss, or I don’t really feel like owning up to a misstep or a sour mood, but not everything about this journey is perfect.

Yeah, I don’t eat those, except in my imagination.

Those are the times I need to be the most transparent because they’re the weak times. When I get frustrated or I don’t feel well, I’m more likely to think “screw all of this!” and drop off a diet. I’ve done it so many times in the past that I know the thought process. Knowing that people will ask me how I’m doing, or expect an update, gives me one more reason to keep up the good fight when I’m not at my strongest or best.

I can’t say it enough — thanks for being there for me. I appreciate the fact that you exist, and that you take the time to read my words.  You help me, every single day.

Planning. “Failing to plan is planning to fail” — it’s absolutely true. All of us get caught off guard by circumstances beyond our control and have to make the best of it. If caught in a bind, it’s far too easy to shrug it off and eat whatever’s available, even if it’s not on plan. The best solution is to always have something with you that can tide you over until you can make better choices.

I’m guilty of this. I had an awards luncheon to attend, last week, but had no way to find out what was on the menu. Instead of carrying something with me to snack on until I could have more healthy choices, I just rolled the dice. Luckily, the menu included good options, but I should not have put myself in that situation.

If I’m dining at an unfamiliar place, I’ll research it (if that’s possible). If websites don’t have restaurant menus on them, often services like Facebook do. I like knowing what I’m facing in advance; it keeps me in control of the situation. Smartphones are great for dieters! Even if I’m trying to decide on the fly, I still have that available.

Failing that, I use a service called My Fitness Pal. It has an app available, and many foods from chain restaurants are listed. If I’m not sure about something on the menu, I can look it up there.

Tracking. Another mention of My Fitness Pal; I use it to track my meals and physical activity. To be honest, I’m not absolutely crazy about all of its functions; I want the ability to track more information, but I don’t feel their paid service merits the cost. (Otherwise, it’s free.)

(One caveat that I find irritating about MFP: exercise calories are added to daily allotments, insinuating that it’s okay to eat more. I don’t think this is a good idea because I’m not convinced their exercise calorie burn amounts are entirely accurate. Why take the chance?)

If I stray, it’s usually because I decide I’m not going to track something. It’s part of my accountability to myself; in order to be successful, I really do need to know what I’m eating. Guessing doesn’t cut it. Measuring food servings, and being honest about those serving sizes, is a must.

Previously, I’ve tried to get by without weighing myself, because I know I take an emotional hit when the scale isn’t cooperating. While I found some limited success in only using clothing sizes as an indicator of weight loss, it didn’t work for me. However, using several methods helps me mentally; when scale weight doesn’t indicate progress, physical measurements and clothing fit often do. I’ve learned to never rely on just one method for gauging success.

Self-Respect. This is a tough one; if someone compliments me about anything, including weight loss, I tend to try to counter it somehow. I have been making an effort to shut up and say “thank you” instead of answering “but I’ve got a long way to go”.

This also includes how I care for myself. I’ve been making the effort to wear clothes that fit, rather than baggy ones, and getting the too-big clothes out of the house. I don’t want to hedge my bets and keep bigger clothes around, just in case I fall off my diet. No! I should be proud of my accomplishments, and I should present myself in the best light, and that means feeling good enough about myself to get rid of the things I shouldn’t be wearing anymore.

Internally, self-respect also means not punishing myself. I’m admittedly really hard on myself, and that can cause problems. I don’t necessarily pamper myself; a little of that is fine, but not all the time. I also take the occasional few days where I relax my diet. Mind you, when I say “relax”, I don’t mean “blowout”; this might mean eating rice and beans with a Mexican dinner, not eating the largest dessert on the menu. I also do this with the full understanding that there’s a price to pay, and I have to accept that before I take a bite.

I also make sure that when I do choose to eat something off-plan, it’s actually good food. Nothing irritates me more than to spend my carbs and calories on bad food; my diet is pretty bland most of the time, so I want to fully enjoy and appreciate off-plan meals.

Self-Acceptance. This is one of the hardest things for me to do. I have lived for so long with a body that I despise that actually seeing photos of myself makes me cringe. I’m critical, no matter what. If a photo is taken at a bad angle, I’m more likely to beat myself up and tell myself I haven’t made the progress I think I have, than simply understand that everyone has the occasional bad photo.

My idea of what I look like often doesn’t match that of others. At this moment, my mental picture matches the physical one, but that’s not always the case. No matter what, I have to accept that this is a body in transition, but still me. This is also a slow process that requires I evaluate on a day-to-day basis, and it’s often easy to get lost in thinking too far down the road. I have to consciously remain in this moment, not dwell on what will happen as I continue to lose.

If you have other thoughts and tips, please share them! (Look for me on My Fitness Pal as LFTS.)

 

Shake It Off

Apr15

 

I’m 118.2 pounds down now!  I’m a mere 4 pounds away from my next goal, which will mark losing one third of my starting total body weight. I’m pretty amazed!

Moments of clarity arrive without notice. I’ve learned to savor them when I can — they are a rare treat.

I had such a moment just the other day. I was standing on my back patio. Dinner was on the grill behind me, and I had some time to kill while it cooked. I’d also recently planted some flowers and plants in pots, and had just walked out to check them.

It struck me, as I looked up at the treetops and breathed in the spring air, that I feel pretty good, these days. I feel small. And I feel — dare I say it? — normal. And strong.

118 pounds of Taylor Swift — completely shaken off. (Shaken. Not stirred.)

Now, let me explain a bit. I don’t mean small in size. I am a short woman; all of five-foot-two. Despite my weight loss, I’m still awfully big for a short woman. But these days, I don’t feel like I occupy the same space. I feel more in proportion, I suppose. Even when I drive, I’ve had to shift the rearview mirror, because I no longer sit as high in the seat; my butt doesn’t raise me up like a built-in booster seat. 😀

I feel more compact and strong, as if my body is working like it’s supposed to, instead of spreading me everywhere. Perhaps this is a phenomenon that happens with those of us who are morbidly obese, and not others, but when I’ve been at my largest, I have felt as if I were wearing five down coats at once and they all get in my way. Five water balloon-filled down coats. How’s that for a visual? Because moving with that much weight is an effort in itself, let alone how much it gets in the way.

I don’t feel like that anymore. I am crossing that indelible line into normal. While I still have many pounds to lose, it’s rare when I’m the largest one in the room, anymore. Any store that carries plus sizes also carries my size; I don’t have to shop at stores that offer extended plus sizes, anymore. In fact, I’m sinking steadily toward the lower end of the plus sizes. I’m still amazed when I pull something off the rack that I expect to be too small, and it fits.

As I’ve been selling off my extended plus size clothing, I’ve met women who are now where I used to be. In one case, the woman bought a pair of black slacks; she needed them for work. Immediately. Her pants had given away down one seam and she grabbed the pants to change in her vehicle. I felt horrible for her, and hoped that the pants would fit, because in my small town, that size just isn’t available. It would have been impossible for her to do anything other than take time off work and drive home to change, losing pay, rather than slipping into a local store and quickly buying a cheap pair of pants to see her through.

Another bought sundresses for her daughter, who is a teenager; I am a careful shopper and believe me, finding stylish clothes in those large sizes is a big challenge. Her daughter needed some options, and I’m glad I could help provide them. It must feel pretty tough to be a teenager and have to drive to a larger city just to buy clothing, but that’s how it is for those who wear over a 3X or size 26. Either drive or shop on the internet, which I have done.

My heart goes out to these women, because I absolutely understand their issues, and I’d much rather these clothes find homes of people who can truly use them, rather than donate and risk them being thrown away if they don’t sell.

It also reminds me to keep my perspective. I am happy with where I am and the progress I’ve made. I’ve wanted that sense of normalcy for quite some time, and having arrived at it, I realize how truly thankful and at peace I am. So while the rest of the world keeps speeding on around me, I’m still standing firm in my own little corner, and whatever gets thrown at me, well… I’ll continue to shake it off!

 

This Is Me

Mar18

I’m back in weight loss mode, again, after a couple weeks’ down; 114.4 pounds lost — just in time for spring break and another camping trip. This time, I’m better prepared!

I’m at a point in my weight loss, now, that I find myself constantly taking inventory, and comparing that against my mental images of myself. It’s hard for me to keep reality and that mental image aligned, and it’s been my downfall, before. In 2012, when I lost just under 70 pounds, I truly believed I had progressed more than I had. When I saw photos of myself after vacation, I was surprised by the large difference between what I thought I looked like, and what I actually looked like.

114 pound giant Chinese salamander — who doesn’t want to lose *that*?

That’s not all that threw me off; it was just the last contributing factor that tipped me off the wagon. I’d already had disappointments, gaining back several pounds before vacation, not wanting to put in the necessary work for the desired outcome, and not having an accurate picture of my physical abilities. If my mind isn’t firmly focused, simple things can throw me off.

I didn’t want to learn from the experience, back then. I simply never went back on my diet after vacation. I am learning, now. I need to make sure that those expectations of myself are in sync with reality. It’s far too easy to simply believe praise and think I’m stronger and thinner than I am, so I’ve made the conscious analysis of my body an ongoing habit. It’s a tight balance between overshooting my current situation and selling myself short.

I didn’t really realize until the other day, though, how much unconscious inventory I take. My body is changing, and not unlike someone who’s totally drunk, I find myself staring at my own body parts as if they’re not mine. My ankles are starting to look more like the ankles of a human and less like those of an elephant. I rub my shrinking double chin a lot. At night, when I lay down, I knead my skin, feeling how much is excess, feeling the bones closer to the skin than they have been. I might actually have a noticeable collarbone, soon!

My limitations are also changing. I still have them, but I can stand and talk with someone for much longer without tiring. I can slide through smaller spaces. I can get up and down our camper steps easier than I anticipated. My endurance is growing, and this is a very good thing. I’m more active because it’s easier to get around.

Although it’s nice to see a lower number on the scale, it’s more these things that keep me going; now I can tell a difference in my physical size, and I think my brain is fairly well in sync with my reality. The longer I’m able to keep things that way, the better off I’ll be.

This is me, becoming me all over, again — and the transition is underway.

 

Jump

Feb26

I want to take a moment and comment on the fact that this last week has been one of the most noteworthy weeks of loss I’ve had to date. That’s pretty remarkable, and proves that loss is often hard to predict — but sticking with it will pay off in the long run. If you read the blog last week, you know I was around 6 pounds away from passing my next goal, and I figured it would take around a month, give or take, to get there.

That’s 112 pounds of natural breasts — the Guinness World Record — and I’ve lost the equivalent.

Ha! I’m there! I’ve lost 112.4 pounds! That’s a 6.4 pound loss since last week!

Yesterday morning, I passed the point where I’ve lost 30% of my starting weight. Almost a third of me, gone! Now — if you’re a scientist at heart, you’re familiar with the Law of Conservation, it says that energy cannot be created or destroyed; it merely changes forms. I don’t know if this means that the 30% of fat (energy) from my body has since floated through space and glommed onto someone else’s hips, but if this is the case, I heartily apologize… but I don’t want it back, either. 😉

I keep a close watch on all matters pertaining to my journey; I suspect a hormonal fluctuation caused my weight loss, but regardless of the reasons, I’ll take it. I have another goal set; a small one. And then after that? I’m focusing the cross-hairs on surpassing 140.5 pounds down, which is the most weight I’ve ever lost.

Now, back to today’s topic: a major JUMP! I’ve been meaning to share a victory, but I keep forgetting to do it — and in a way, that’s a good thing! When I first started back in the fall of 2013, I needed assistance to walk. My balance was off and my knee pain was extreme enough that I needed a cane anytime I left the house. If I had a long distance to walk, I had to use a wheelchair. I spent much of two Mexican vacations in a wheelchair because of it.

The improvements have been gradual. I haven’t used the wheelchair in many months. I’ve decreased using the cane to a point where I have only used it on rare occasions — usually on very bad arthritis days, and I can’t honestly remember when the last day was that I needed it. I would tuck it in the car if we went somewhere, in case I needed it, but I decided a few weeks ago to leave it completely at home.

The fact that I keep forgetting about it means I’ve also made the mental jump from thinking I need it, too, which is significant.

Sure, I’ll hang onto it. Realistically, I still have the same mechanical issues with my knees. But that cane will be a last-resort sort of thing; along on long trips, or challenges in which I might turn a knee, like camping trips. But otherwise? It’s no longer a part of my day. I’m getting around without it, these days, fairly easily.

I really do like feeling stronger than I have been, and now that exercise is part of my regimen again, I’m looking forward to the day when needing that wheelchair assistance on long walks is no longer necessary; I’m confident that day will come.

 

Get On Your Feet

Feb19

I’m 106 pounds down; a mere 6 pounds to my next goal.

It’s finally happened. It seems I went straight from a couple people close to me, keeping up with my weight loss, to crossing that invisible line where I’ve changed to a point that people don’t recognize me immediately if they haven’t seen me in several months. It’s happened three times in the last couple of weeks — a little difficult to ignore when it happens multiple times!

106 Pounds of Great Pyrenees

I admit; it’s kind of cool, in a way. It’s nice to get a little attention and recognition for hard work put in.

I know it’s awkward for some folks; they may not be able to put their finger on what’s changed, or may feel it’s inappropriate to say anything about weight loss. To be clear, I do not expect *any* recognition at all for weight loss. While I’m transparent here about my efforts, that doesn’t mean that I am with everyone, and not all reasons for weight loss are good ones. Some approach me somewhat cautiously about it; this happened just last night.

Inevitably, people say “I bet you feel better!” Well, absolutely! I’ve lost 106 pounds. I’m no longer carrying Miley Cyrus around on my hips. 😉 My chronic pain level has gone done immeasurably. While I still can’t walk long distances, my endurance is much higher, these days. By necessity, I stand, carry, sit, and walk differently than I did, before. These are all big changes; they may be as much a factor as a change in physical size to those who haven’t seen me in a while.

It’s nice, for now, and I’m enjoying it while it lasts, although I know there’s necessary head work ahead. My weight loss is slowing somewhat; I may need to shift gears, soon, and adapt in order to keep losing. At this point, though, I feel strong and optimistic. I’m confident that I’ll keep losing, that I’ll meet my upcoming weight loss goal in a month or so.

It’s also a point of no return; even if people aren’t saying anything to me, they’re noticing. They have the expectation that I’ll keep going. It’s peer pressure, in a way; it’s a whole new level of transparency when people you only know as acquaintances are suddenly interested in your personal story. Things have shifted; I’ve been on my feet, but now others expect me to get on my feet and take action.

I’ve said this many times before: my weight loss is, first and foremost, for me. It has to remain that way. But I admit that the extra layer of attention is both a level of support and yet another method that keeps me honest. For instance, if I have a meal in public, I suddenly feel as if people are watching what I eat. Would they care what anyone else had for dinner? Probably not — but people become oddly fascinated when they know you’ve lost a lot of weight. It’s simply something extra I have to deal with that others don’t.

There is a downside that I know to expect over the months to come. There’s a loss of privacy, in a way, when people suddenly take an interest and want you to tell them what’s been working. I don’t necessarily mind those sorts of inquiries, but realistically, I’m only an expert in what works for me personally, so answering questions about diet can become somewhat tedious. Everyone has to find their own path; that’s one of the reasons why those of you who read this blog don’t see a lot of references to my methods, only the mental effects.

I know, though, the lay of the land. That’s an advantage as I move forward. Exciting times are ahead!

 

Physical

Feb12

I’m pleased to report a new low this morning: I’m now 105.4 pounds down!

This past week, I’ve had the joy of returning to two things I’ve needed back in my life for a very long time — and both, though they seem distant from each other, required the same processes of stepping out of my comfort zone.

‘The Biggest Loser’ crowns Rachel Frederickson winner after she weighs-in at only at 105 pounds .

The first was last Sunday; I joined a community orchestra. Roughly two years ago, a friend gave me the gift of music in my life, again, by sending me her french horn; something I played for many years, and had meant, at one point, to be a crucial part of my career. That’s not what I ended up doing, and truthfully, when I sold my horn not long after college, I thought I’d likely never get the chance to play with a musical group again.

Last Sunday, that changed. I’d played enough in my own house, occasionally playing to recorded accompaniment on the sound system, but no matter how you cut it, that’s rather lonely. Music is an experience is meant to be shared.  I had looked for a community group to join, but didn’t find one until a few weeks ago; and last Sunday afternoon, I walked into the first rehearsal of the year.

Skipping forward to Monday, I took another step outside my comfort zone: I returned to exercise, after having left it several years ago. I had never been much of a workout maven; not until I started my first big weight loss journey in 2003. That journey truly was a physical one: I started by walking around my yard, and that was all I could manage. I kept walking until I’d created trails through the grass in my yard, and people would honk and wave at me as they drove by on the road in front of my house, because they saw me trudging along at the same time every morning.

From there, I joined the gym with my husband; it was totally alien to me. I swam laps in the gym pool, learned how to walk on a treadmill, and finally moved to the weight room and machines for strength training. What started as a simple lap around the yard graduated to daily 4 mile walks/jogs and strength training every morning before 5 am. Yeah, I was a workout badass for a while; when my daughter and I worked out in the weight room, there were men we out-lifted.

For a while, anyway. Until I injured myself; first by falling on one knee, breaking off a bone spur which lodged under my kneecap, requiring surgery. I came back after that, but I kept injuring myself. I pushed myself beyond the abilities of my body; I broke my own rules about adapting when hitting a wall. I left the gym for a couple years, only to return in 2011-2012. I water walked and jogged; my knees were in horrible condition and I’d regained most of my weight. If you read last week’s blog, you know I gave up on that effort. I left the gym, again.

A friend who works at the gym invited me to come give water aerobics a try — something that, quite honestly, I didn’t think was for me — but I needed to start somewhere. I needed to exercise, again. The time had arrived. So, on Monday morning, I started water aerobics class; it’s my first step back to building muscle and endurance. I’m back at the gym, once again.

Yes, playing french horn in an orchestra and going to water aerobics class have more in common than you may think. These tasks will build on each other. Being a musician requires physical control; lungs, diaphragm, lip muscles (in my case), posture, endurance. (Not to mention, carrying a horn case across a parking lot!) Just sitting in proper posture to play, for two hours on Sunday afternoon, made the muscles in my back hurt.

Likewise, water aerobics — or any cardio exercise — requires a lot of the same things, including endurance and lung capacity. I fully expect that as I progress with both, I’ll likely improve at both faster than I would at either one, taken separately.

But that’s not the biggest common denominator. No, that’s reserved for taking the step to be willing to step outside my comfort zone, and risk being uncomfortable. Believe me, walking into a room of musicians that I’ve never met before, with over 30 years of rust to knock off, took an act of bravery. The reward, for me, was the pure and deep joy of making sound with other musicians; it didn’t matter if I was good or not. I was doing what I set out to do, and welcomed by others who have been in the same place. I left there feeling absolutely exhilarated and challenged.

Returning to the gym, where I have previously given up several times, meant I needed not only to swallow my pride, and once again endure walking into a situation where I didn’t know the people involved, and had never been in a water aerobics class, feeling as if I might be judged for my size just by the act of walking through the doors. I did know the instructor; and once I got going, I felt a lot more comfortable with the situation. Now, I don’t care so much if someone happens to see me there and judge me; after all, I’m there for a reason. All of us are. Judging me for exercising would be stupid, considering everyone who walks through the door has the same goal.

So I leave this week, a better person than I started it, already feeling stronger; perhaps not physically, just yet, but certainly mentally. I’ve come to the conclusion that while I might refer to this weight loss journey as one journey, it’s not, really; it’s a series of new starts. Hurdles that must be met and jumped over, vantage points where it’s okay to rest a while and appreciate where I’ve been before tackling the next set of hurdles along the road.

 

I Am Changing

Feb5

103 pounds down, now!

Last week was quite the week for me, dealing with the mental changes necessary to keep strong on my journey.

No sooner had I rejoiced in passing a major weight goal, than I got cut down at the knees. This was one of those unforeseen circumstances I hadn’t mentally prepared myself for; you can’t possibly be prepared for everything life throws at you.

Mind you, most of the photos people see of me, online at least, are ones I took myself. I take great pains at every weight to make myself look as good as possible, especially with head shots that I use for profile pics in social media. Like most people, I have a little bit of vanity, and if I feel like I look my best at every weight, there’s a little more lift to my step. Mind you, I don’t do any magic to the photos; I just want to look and feel the best I can be at every stage of the way.

103 pound weight class champ! It’s kind of cool that I’m losing entire humans, these days.

Last week, though, someone took a pic of me and posted it online — and it was a horrible pic. A group of us were out together, and one of our friends said that since it had been a long time since we’d been out like that, she wanted a group photo. She asked someone to take it, and he took it down the length of our long table; I was closest to the camera. Consequently, it made me look disproportionately huge.

My immediate response, when I saw it online, was anger — not at the one who took the photo, but at myself. All those self-critical comments took up arms in my brain; I lost 100 pounds to end up looking like THAT? I look horrible! I look as big as I did when I started! Disgusting!

Those were my first responses… not gee, what a lousy photo angle; no one ends up looking good at that angle! No, I couldn’t consider for a moment that it was just a bad photo. Bad photos happen all the time. No, my brain jumped on beating myself up and making me feel like I hadn’t accomplished a thing, for all the work I’ve put in these last couple of years.

This is a dangerous thing. Back in 2012, we went on vacation to Mexico with friends; before vacation, I worked hard on losing weight and regaining some of my ability to walk. I took very short walks around the neighborhood; I worked out at the gym in the pool, in hopes of being able to walk better once on vacation. I lost a bit over 60 pounds in that effort — my low weight, then, was slightly above what I weigh right now. I felt like I was in a great frame of mind when we left for that vacation, ready for fun and sunshine.

I learned, quickly, that I wasn’t as prepared as I’d hoped. I couldn’t get around as well as I thought I would, and felt like I was holding other people back, because of my inability to walk any sort of distance. I felt defeated and disappointed that the hard work I’d put in hadn’t created the intended result. When we returned home and I went through all our travel photos, I saw the photos of me… and wanted to crawl into a hole, never to come out. I was absolutely mortified how horrible I looked in the majority of the photos. I was physically sick over looking at them; all I could see was my own ugliness, and not the beauty around me or the memorable times we created.

I let those things tip the balance toward defeat. I’d already been off my diet for vacation, and I never went back on it. Over the next 14 or so months, I gained 100 pounds; yes, there was the occasional shove-food-in-my-face-fest, but I was not binging. I gained that weight simply by eating fairly normally, with no restrictions on what I could eat; if I wanted pizza or cake, I had it. If you’re envisioning a sad girl scarfing down an entire bag of Oreos in the closet, that wasn’t me; despite the common misconceptions about why people become morbidly obese, I wasn’t having a free-for-all of food.

It has taken me over two years to take off what I put on when I went into decline after that vacation, triggered by photos, and by inability to produce the result I wanted, with the work I put in. I was already on the bubble, anyway; my low weight was a couple months before I went on vacation, and I was already on a slippery slope.  I had put back on about ten pounds or so. The mental sucker punch sealed the deal, and I didn’t go back on my weight loss plan.

That’s the power of emotional triggers when you’re in a bad mental place to begin with. That’s why I must be careful about how I choose to react to triggers when they unexpectedly pounce. The good news is that when I saw the photo last week, my response, after berating myself, wasn’t to give up.

No, I got pissed off. I was, and am, angry. It’s a very different response, and I’m glad for it. I’m a fighter. I’m not giving up.

First of all, it’s a bad pic. All of us have had a bad photo taken of us.

Second, I am still very overweight. I know this. I am nowhere near my stopping point. I’m fat, but I’m in the process of changing; this is a fact. I will stumble mentally on occasion, but when I do, it’s important that I pick myself up, brush myself off, and be realistic about the matter. I’ve let unexpected external information defeat me before, because a part of me was looking for a reason to give up. I cannot and will not do that, again.

Third, and perhaps most important: when choosing a response to a stressful situation, especially if that situation involves my weight, the worst possible reaction is to give up. What does that solve? Seeing myself in a photo as fat, regardless of whether it’s deadly accurate or simply a bad angle, will not be solved by giving up. The proper reaction is to keep up the good fight, no matter what. I vowed to change when I took the first step; every once in a while, situations will force me to recommit myself to that change.

I’ve since taken progress pics. Before I did, I accepted that the trigger wasn’t valid; I didn’t take the progress pics to disprove it, but that was the end result. One look tells me the truth; I’ve come an amazingly long way, and even if the progress pics didn’t tell that story, how I feel, these days, certainly does.

I am changing — for the better.