I inherited a lot of things from my mother, but two things are for sure: hazel eyes and a love for the outdoors.
I grew up across the street from a lake and spent a great deal of my time outside, adventuring. If I wasn’t swimming or canoeing, I was ice skating or sledding. I also spent a lot of time riding bikes and hiking.
One of our favorite local hikes was down The Old Boyscout Trail. Back in the early 1900’s, it was a railroad line, but by the time I was a kid, the tracks had been torn up and nothing was left but a path on the old right-of-way. Echo Lake sat just off the trail, and it was a favorite spot for sitting on the willow-lined bank and fishing, or just contemplating life. Even though it was a stone’s throw away from town, I could drink in the fresh air and the sunshine, and believe I was somewhere far away.
A great blue heron in flight — truly a thing of beauty.
We were a scouting family; my parents were volunteers (and later, my mother was a professional within the organization), and my brothers were both involved. I had the unique experience of spending an entire summer living in a Boy Scout camp in Wisconsin. I was around 6 years old at the time, so I didn’t think it was nearly as fascinating as I might have, had I been older. 😉
Over the years, there were plenty of camping trips, hikes, and I was a scout in my own right: first as a Camp Fire Girl and then as an Explorer Scout. After I became a young adult with a job, Mom and I still went on camping trips, just the two of us; our favorite place to go was the middle of a scout camp (no scouts present at the time), with 2800 acres to ourselves. (Okay, there was a ranger on staff, but it was still pretty secluded!) We pitched a tent on the lakeshore, built a fire, watched the embers disappear into the dark as we talked, and hoped the coyotes would stay at bay. We canoed the lake; she hooked a large mouth bass, and I hooked her earlobe and had to remove the hook while balanced in the canoe in the middle of the lake.
One of my biggest regrets in gaining as much weight as I allowed myself to gain has been the loss of freedom I always felt in the outdoors. Carrying too much weight limited my movement; no more hikes, no more boating, and even tent camping became quite difficult. It’s only been lately that I’ve started being able to enjoy these things, again.
Over the course of this past spring, I’ve been taking Mom on ‘field trips’ to local campgrounds; we’ll drive somewhere for a small picnic and just get outside and enjoy the things we both enjoyed when we were younger. This past week, it was a trip to a campground on the Arkansas River, where we watched a great blue heron work the river bank while we ate lunch at a picnic table nearby. An enormous turtle sunned itself on an outcrop, with smaller turtles wedging in to share the space. Canadian geese were everywhere, and we spied several young geese, still fuzzy and gawky.
Losing weight and gaining mobility means I’ve been able to regain a small bit of my prior outdoor activities; the love of it has never left me, only become smaller. I regret that I was so selfish in having allowed myself to be robbed of years when I could have still been actively doing these things with my family; with my mother, who taught me to love the outdoors with gusto. I yearn to live that larger life, again, and to adventure, and see where the trail leads me.
Since I’m a matter of 1.8 pounds away from 150 pounds as of this morning (148.2 pounds down!), I’ve been thinking about the things that got me here.
Things I’ve learned this time over the last time I lost 140 pounds:
Slower is better for me.
When I lost 140 pounds, before, I lost it relatively fast; the majority of my weight was gone in a year, before it really slowed down, and it took about 18 months total to level out at 140 and stay there for a couple of years. After that couple of years maintenance, it creeped back on pretty quickly. I had a heck of a time keeping my weight within an acceptable range.
My brain really never truly and fully accepted my body’s changes, and because of that, I sabotaged myself without really realizing I was doing it.
I felt like a fraud most of the time — a fat person trying to pass herself off as some closing in on a normal weight. I couldn’t accept that I really was that person that was just overweight instead of morbidly obese. I felt like I had to constantly prove myself; if the scale wasn’t moving, I needed to do adverse things to get it to move. And, wouldn’t you know it, I plateaued and stayed at one point for the better part of two years, and then crashed and burned.
I thought about everything I ate during that time when I was actively losing and when I plateaued — and I still do, but it’s from an entirely different perspective, now. I have a much better idea where my food triggers are, what the consequences will be if I choose to eat something that’s a trigger, where my zones are for losing, and how my body works.
148 pounds of lap dog. Who’s a good boy?!
Before, I convinced myself I could eat more because of the amount of exercise I did; for me, that wasn’t possible, because my metabolism doesn’t forgive calories that way. I overate on protein, thinking I was burning it all up. Not so — the body can and will store overages of protein the same way it stores overages of anything else.
I was also stubborn about things. My brain stubbornly refused to let go of the notion that I should review what I was doing and change my tactics. Instead, I kept spinning my wheels and digging myself into a rut.
Taking weight loss slower has allowed my thinking to evolve along with my body. I’m more willing to try different things to see how they work. I’m more educated on the workings of my own body’s reactions and changes, even though I’m still occasionally surprised. While I still have my fat-brain days, I have a truer idea of both my current abilities and my capabilities.
Letting go of being inflexible has helped immensely.
You can’t exercise yourself thin.
Now, before anyone disagrees with me on this, I do believe that exercise plays a crucial role in overall health. Two people of the same weight look vastly different if one is a couch potato and the other works out on a regular basis; muscle takes up less room than fat, so the more muscular of those two people will appear slimmer. Muscle is also metabolically active, which is a great thing for anyone wanting to manage their weight.
That said, there are a lot of fallacies out there regarding exercise, especially with the advent of shows like The Biggest Loser, which I watched for a couple of seasons, and then stopped because it angered me. I felt it perpetuated the idea that if fat people would only make some effort and stop eating, they’d drop all their weight. That’s only partially true.
On that 140 pound loss, I started early on by walking and adding to the length over time. I started adding strength workouts, and that was good, too. Eventually, I peaked, but kept pushing past that peak to the point where I injured myself, and constantly felt bad. The effort I made didn’t give me results even close to that effort. I over-exercised to the point of exhaustion, as if I were training for some big competition. I spent 90% of the time feeling sore and longing for recovery weeks.
I sacrificed far too much in the hopes that I’d increase my metabolism and lose weight, and ended up doing it entirely wrong — for me.
This time around, I only recently started walking, again — not because I didn’t think it was necessary, but because I needed to lose enough weight to make walking comfortably possible, again. I add a little bit at a time. I can feel myself getting stronger, and I would only call this light to moderate exercise. For me, though, I’ve been able to lose all the weight I did originally without exercise.
Sure, I’m larger right now than back then at the same weight. I’m well aware that I’d look tjommer and be stronger if I were still strength building, but back then, I believed that was the only way for me to maintain my weight — and I’m learning that’s not true at all.
My goals are to increase over time to moderate exercise; enough to generate health benefits without making me long for recovery weeks.
You can certainly change how your body looks with exercise, and I recommend it; but inevitably, it’s what you put in your mouth that makes the biggest difference, and there has to be a happy medium so that my lifestyle is one I enjoy, not dread.
I have nothing to prove.
During that first 140 pound loss, I felt like I had to prove myself. I’m sure a lot of overweight people feel this way, especially if they are obese, because they’ve endured a lifetime of both overt and covert judging regarding the extra weight they carry. When they make the effort to lose weight, they may be afraid to say anything, because others will then think “finally! It’s about time!”
If they fail, then, they feel exposed.
I drew a lot of attention when I lost 140 pounds. People didn’t recognize me because the weight dropped so fast. They were excited for me, but then I’d be asked for constant updates, and the pressure was on. If I couldn’t produce results, I felt like a failure — when what I was really doing was setting myself up for failure. And, of course, I failed. Big surprise, eh?
Big surprise, eh?
This time around, the changes have been slow and I’ve adapted better. I have nothing to prove, except to myself. If people think I should be losing weight faster or doing something differently than what I am, that’s on them, not me. I will get to my goals in my own time, and no one else’s. My accomplishments are for me, not to impress anyone else.
I created this blog to be accountable — both to myself and to those I value, because I’m really good at not being truthful with myself. Knowing the level of transparency expected of me keeps me honest. I admit that I often feel like I’m disappointing folks on the many weeks I don’t report a loss, but that’s my journey; how boring would this be, if I blogged about losing exactly two pounds every week?
As it is, my average loss per week is .75 pounds — that’s an average, and if you’ve been around a while, you know there are plenty of weeks that go by with no loss at all. It’s not a constant. That can be aggravating at times, but being persistent pays off.
The road to success looks more like a drunk on a mule charted it than a nice, flat highway.
My first big weight loss was pretty predictable for the first 100 pounds or so. I dropped weight in steps; I wouldn’t lose anything for three weeks, and then the week before my period, I’d drop 10-15 pounds. Every month. My weight loss graph looked like a staircase.
This time around, I was more than a decade older, past menopause, with other health complications that were finally being treated, but treatment doesn’t mean it’s suddenly easy to lose weight. My weight loss graph looks more like a tilted EKG, these days. I’ll drift up and then down, flat-line (OMG!), and drop again. It jumps around quite a bit and there’s no predictable indicator of anything, really. Trends, perhaps, but nothing I can look at and predict my loss down the road.
It’s taught me patience that I didn’t have before. It’s taught me to look at indicators other than weight loss for signs of success. I know how my clothes fit, for instance, and the variations are easier to tell the more weight I lose.
I should live more in the moment.
Losing the bulk of 140 pounds in a year meant I basically lived in thrift shop clothes so I wouldn’t go broke. Seldom did I find something I just absolutely adored, though. So when I kept smaller clothes and have found myself working my way down through them, now, some of them have been donated before I ever got back into them.
Why? Well, for one thing, they’re a decade or older, and some were just too far out of style to bother, even if I’m not a fashion plate. For another, I want to treat myself better and enjoy every moment, which means I want to like what I wear, what I do, how I spend my time.
I spent far too much time, back then, living a life that would get me to an eventual goal instead of living a life I actually fully enjoyed. I made do, I got by, I did things to move me forward — all well and good, but I denied myself the pure enjoyment of just living.
This journey has been about learning to change while creating a new lifestyle that’s not only manageable but rewarding, as well. I used to live thinking about the future; when I get down to size 10, when I’m thin enough, when I lose enough weight… all those were some distant goal and anything short of that goal was just along the way. Now, I take joy and where I am at this moment, and only a small portion of my day is given over to weight loss; it doesn’t define me the way it once did.
Living in the moment means I can find joy in the things I give my time to, whether it’s just day to day activities, giving myself over to my music, my work, or getting out and having fun. I don’t torture and punish myself in the name of weight loss. And most of all, I do not deprive myself of the things I love and enjoy.
I’m but a few pounds away from 150 pounds down. I initially plotted to lose 200 pounds, and then evaluate at that point where my health is. Here I am, nearly 3/4th of the way there — and while I know there are those that think a nearly four year long weight loss effort seems like a long time to endure, I actually am stunned to be at this point, with the reality that not only have I been successful, but that next 50 pounds is fully and completely in my power to reach.
A couple of weekends ago, I dropped my husband off at a friend’s house and made my way over to another friend’s house to visit for a bit. They live several miles apart, and while I knew the way there from my house, that’s from a different direction. I suspected there was an easier way to get there, and my husband gave me a landmark along the way, so I pulled out my phone and plugged that location into my phone’s maps app.
I made it to that midpoint just fine but then decided to just look at the map and judge the rest of the way for myself. I was familiar with most of the roads and figured I’d recognize the landmarks to get me to my friend’s house once I was in her neighborhood.
What should I do with the fork, once I take it?
Oh, how wrong I was!
I suspected I was on the wrong course when I passed into another county, but thought maybe the road would turn back across the county line. It didn’t. I finally found a stopping point and put the right information into the mapping program, got on my way, and finally arrived at her house. I certainly didn’t save myself any time at all, but at least I got there!
Every once in a while, I go “off-map” and convince myself I’m on plan with my eating, even though I’m really not. I’ve done that recently. I tell myself I know the way perfectly well, and even though I see the signs that I’m veering off-course, I don’t turn myself around right away; I just keep going off-course and then have to make up more time in getting back on the right path.
The last week has been about finding my bearings and getting back on the right road. I didn’t stray too far from my path, but I really needed to pay more attention to the indicators that I’d made a wrong turn at some point, because it costs me time and effort to get back on track. Time and effort that could have been spent getting closer to my goals.
So here I am — back on track, hovering just above my low, and needing to remind myself that maps are made for a reason, whether they’re for finding my way to a friend’s house or finding my way back to where I need to be on my eating plan. I’m back to tracking everything I eat (I wasn’t being completely honest with myself), weighing daily (necessary for me, but not for everyone), drinking all the water I should be, getting enough sleep, meeting my step goals.
When I do everything necessary to get closer to my goals, I’ll move forward instead of feeling like I’m in a maze with no end.
I haven’t lost weight in the last month or so — I’m still just above my low — but something different is going on.
I’m getting muscle tone back. The more I walk, the more confident I feel; the muscles in my legs and core are getting stronger. I am more sure-footed. And while I may not be losing weight, I’m losing inches; more clothes are going in the sell/donate pile, and I am right on the verge of dropping out of wearing plus-size clothing. Well — from the waist up, anyway, and a girl’s got to start somewhere!
No jumping to conclusions, people!
I really noticed this last week, when I took my mother to an annual appointment that happens to be in a small nearby hospital. I’ve had to cop out of walking in with her, before, because I felt the walk was too far for me. I felt absolutely horrible once because she fell in the hallway after leaving her appointment; she hit her head and ended up in the emergency room. I should have been there to keep her from falling.
This time, I walked back with her, and then she told me she forgot something in the car, so I trotted out to the parking lot and back, and then walked her to the appointment location, further in the hospital. She seemed a bit off-balance, but to me, the walk was no longer a big deal at all. My walking abilities used to be close to what she is, now, and she’s nearly 30 years my senior.
I joked with someone, recently, when they said they were growing old; I said I’m aging in reverse — I’m getting younger! Instead of my abilities leaving me, they’re coming back. Because I can go out and do more things, I find myself wanting to get out and do more things. And why not enjoy these new-to-me-once-again times?
Yesterday morning, I took my mother on a “field trip” to a local state park. She loves the outdoors even more than I do, and we had a great time; I packed a lunch, and we meandered around a bit. We sat lakeside and enjoyed the breeze on our faces, and I checked out a campsite we plan on camping at in the near future. Later yesterday evening, I wore a new top, and met my friends for dinner, wearing wedge heels that I bought last year but still felt too unstable to wear. I couldn’t walk down the hallway in them, then. Now? They’re comfy and easy!
This comes down to appreciating these changes; why sit inside on a beautiful day, if I don’t have to? Why merely choose to exist, when I can do so much more? At this point, my health starts to self-perpetuate: the more I do, the more I want to do, and nothing is going to stop me, now.
I’m pretty sure we’ve all done the same thing at the beginning of a diet. We calculate how much we think we can lose by a certain time and reach a certain size.
And then it doesn’t happen.
I used to do that, but the big diets I have been on later in my life have made that all but an impossible feat, although I certainly had high hopes the first time I lost a major amount of weight. As I’ve said before, this time I started with a tiny sliver of hope, but I really didn’t believe that 3.5 years down the road, I would end up being more successful than I’ve ever been with a weight loss program.
What he said.
In part, as I’ve also explained, it’s because this time I see this as a journey and a process, not so much a diet. I knew from previous experience that I’d have to roll with the punches, change things up, adapt, change my goals, reconsider, review, research, and renew. Bodies change with weight loss and our thinking has to change along with them.
Some general goals, though, have stayed constant. I want to improve my health to lower my health risks as much as possible. I want to regain as much of my physical abilities as possible. These two things, combined, outweigh any other goal I have, because they are the combo that will extend my life and bring as much quality to it as possible. I am no spring chicken, and as I near my retirement years, I want to enjoy those years as much as I can.
These are the areas where I still struggle, and where I need the most work. At this stage, eating the right things is easy; it’s the rest that’s challenging.
This week, I hit a bit of a wall. It’s been a struggle to meet my step goal the last few days; the weather hasn’t been cooperative and I’ve also had a number of appointments that prevented me from getting out and walking. I was annoyed, to say the least; I know I need those steps. My leg muscles need the strength, and I’d just feel bad if I gave into my desire to just sit and not get up and meet the goals.
I pushed myself to meet those goals. I live in a small town and the places I can walk in the rain are limited. I’m not able to walk on a treadmill because of my gait. On Tuesday, I ended up in Walmart — twice — putting in steps. I weaved up and down the aisles. Yes, I ended up buying a few things; namely, three tubes of Burt’s Bees lip balm and a fanny pack, since my warm-ups don’t have pockets. A bit goofy, yes, but I got the steps in. I made myself a deal that yesterday I’d get up and walk early, so I did, walking my neighborhood before dawn. My goals are easier to meet when I do more earlier in the day.
I also hit a tough roadblock on Wednesday; one that’s hitting me hard, since it means the plans I had been working toward for knee surgery will need to change. I’ll be honest about it: my first thought was to just say screw this and eat or drink my feelings, because this is a major goal I’ve been working toward for a number of years. I’m put out that my plans have been inadvertently changed; while some people start out diets, thinking about a summer body, I’ve been working toward knee replacement surgery, in hopes of shedding over a decade of chronic pain. When I started my journey, I set my sites on getting healthy enough and thin enough to accomplish that goal, and it’s been a driving force in much of what I do.
But life isn’t fair. Things don’t work out the way you hope. And I have to choose my reactions to this setback.
My reaction: I’m doubling down. Had I not made changes 3.5 years ago, knee surgery would have been far too risky and completely out of the question. Now, that’s not the case at all, but I can certainly stand to keep losing weight, keep getting stronger and healthier. So that’s what I’m going to do: I am still going to win this thing. Just because it’s not working the way I had originally hoped does not mean I give up or change course.
I can’t always get what I want, but I can certainly keep pushing toward that goal, a little farther down the road than originally planned — and get what I need.
Despite having been on this journey for three and a half years, my body is still surprising me.
At this moment, my surprises are my physical changes, specifically from exercise. A few months ago, I started wearing an old FitBit, just so I’d have a more accurate way to count steps than using my phone. Since that time, I’ve gradually increased my step goals from around 500 a day to 4,000 – and I’m meeting those goals. At the end of each week, I listen to my body; sometimes I increase that goal, and sometimes I stay put until I’m more consistent.
I wish I’d thought of that!
I’ve been paying attention and listening to my body all along, but physical activity and exercise is a different kind of listening. I often check myself, because I worry that I’m being too easy on myself — but my instincts say that this is the right way. I remember putting 4,000 steps on one day early in the process and my knees hurt badly the next day. Now, 4,000 steps is a pleasant challenge; not entirely easy, but not simple, either. Considering that not so long ago, I struggled to walk even around my own home without the use of a cane, this is fantastic!
My muscles are getting stronger. Walking helps more than just my knees and my legs; it’s helping my balance, my endurance, even my breathing. Getting out and about throughout the day also has helped my mental attitude, getting away from whatever I’m working on at the moment, often taking my dog along. There are just no negatives right now, although I’ll admit that on our recent rainy days, I have tended to get my steps in inside a store or community center. Sometimes that’s not the best thing for my budget. 😉
Simply put, I feel stronger, overall, since I started walking. It’s also another freeing move for me. I can’t tell you how many places I’ve wanted to go that I’ve reconsidered because of mobility issues; while I’m not going to go walk a marathon any time soon, I certainly don’t have the concerns about getting around that I used to.
My goal is to reach 10,000 steps a day. I don’t know when I’ll reach that point, but there’s not a rush; I’ll get there and I know it’ll happen.
Many programs recommend 10,000 steps a day for losing weight. I’m going to make this clear right now — that’s not why I’m doing it. Sure, my end goal is to lose weight, but that’s just part of the overall picture; the ultimate goal is to be healthy, and cardiovascular and muscular health are huge parts of that. Being mobile, having the ability to do all the things I want to do, and knowing my health is improving — that’s what I’m after.
It’s also a relief. When I walked for exercise years ago, I had time/distance targets and I always walked to music. That’s not a bad thing to do, but I always felt compelled to do it, rather than wanting to just get out and enjoy myself as I walked. Now I walk without distractions, and I take in everything around me, whether it’s on a park trail or in my neighborhood. I think about how my body feels, and it feels good to do these things, rather than a chore.
This is a long-term change that can only benefit me as I continue to lose weight and work toward the eventual likelihood of knee replacement surgery; the stronger my legs are, the easier my recovery will be. And afterward? I just might work up to walking a lot farther than I ever have.
I tried incorporating walking into my schedule last year, and it just didn’t click for me; now it has, and I’m very glad.
So, if you don’t mind, it’s time I got off here and got some steps in.
Last week was Spring Break and we took our camper out for the first trip of the year, pulling it to one of our long time favorite state parks a day early since we were ready to go and the spot was empty.
Most of the week was beautiful, but each day, we kept an eye on Friday’s forecast. We arrived on Sunday and were set to leave on Saturday, and although the forecast all week long had predicted bad weather on Friday, weather predictions often change over the course of time. But not this one. The forecast held steady: severe weather, along with winds in excess of 60 miles per hour, hail, and possible tornadoes were in the forecast, and we made the decision on Thursday to pull out a day early on Friday.
Kicked out the hubby and took over the hammock with the dog.
It’s a good thing we did, too, since it appears the area we camped on got an excessive amount of rain. A little rain won’t spoil a campout, but a lot of rain, with wind, in among the trees, in a camper the size of a UPS van? Not the best idea. So we braved the elements — which mostly consisted of enough pollen to pollinate the entirety of the state ot Texas — and swept it off the camper before packing up and heading home.
It was a good week, with plenty of firsts in a long time for me, including hanging out in the hammock with my dog, participating more in setup and breakdown, hiking a little bit, along with just generally getting around a lot easier. Much of that is because of weight loss, but daily walking has also helped quite a bit.
One other thing was as surefire as those Friday storms, though, and that was that my week’s vacation from my normal dietary restrictions had consequences. Just like waiting for the bad weather to move in, I knew I’d pay a price for all the salt I had during the week. (Keep your ice cream and give me a pretzel!) I’m still paying the price and will be into next week, I’m sure. While my deviations were far from overboard, my body is sensitive and picks up both water and excess weight quite easily; things I know from years of experience.
Despite that, I was a bit surprised when I stepped on the scales Monday morning and saw my gain. For a few days, I fought mental demons that screamed I had failed. And perhaps I had, since I knew what I was doing at the time I did it, but I’ve been a bit complacent, lately. I haven’t taken any planned meal deviations since the holidays, and I’ve been losing a fair amount lately, just about every week. Just like the rains that eventually came, I should have expected the results I got, and I should have prepared myself for the outcome.
For a couple of days, I admit that I felt like I’d rolled backward more than I actually had, and that’s because I was much more emotional about the result than I should have been. I’ve since checked myself and this has been a lesson to remind myself that I can’t just always assume my head will stay in the right place at all times without the necessary work to get and keep it there.
I’m back on track, though, unlike the weather, which has been a bit cranky this week. We’ve got lots of future camping trips planned, and I’ll be better prepared for each of them as summer nears.
These days, I get constant reminders of just how far I’ve come since the beginning of this journey, and how much has changed in my day to day life.
Most of the squirrels in my back yard look like this, and I never feed them.
In September of 2013, my first month on this particular effort, I made notes about changes in my condition. Here are a few highlights:
My highest weight during the month was my starting weight of 371. My lowest weight during the month was 354.8 pounds, for a total loss of 16.2 pounds.
IBS symptoms are decreasing from daily occurrences to 1-2 times a week.
I feel as if I’m able to get up off my love seat without as much effort.
On the whole, I am sleeping better, with wakefulness in the wee hours of the morning only occurring 1-2 times a week, as opposed to being almost daily.
I still experience knee pain, back discomfort when standing, as well as pulling on lower back and upper thighs when standing; probably because my fat distribution causes me to stoop somewhat to counterbalance.
To help myself mentally, I chose 50 pound increments. I am 34 pounds away from the first goal.
I have a lot of support at the moment, and I hope this continues.
I am still anxious about being in situations where I must stand or walk. I am unsure of footing and fear falling.
I have to remember to be more patient with my current status instead of wanting everything right at this moment.
Accomplishments: I’m not sure what to include, here at this time, other than staying the course for the month. I achieved my goals of starting off right, which I think has helped me through some times of doubt. Instead of starting halfheartedly, I weighed, I measured, I took photos, I took video, I enlisted support.
My biggest challenge is mobility; standing, walking, endurance. These are structural as well as distribution issues; structural in that my knees are in bad shape (level 4 osteoarthritis). This will continue to improve as I lose weight.
Last night, I had a meeting in the downtown area in a larger city I live close to; just the simple act of finding a place to park and walking down the street to my destination, and then getting down the stairs, would have been close to impossible for me. These days, the only part of that journey that bothers me is the stairs; I can make it up and down them, but it takes me a while because of the condition of my knees. That will continue to improve.
I don’t wake up in pain every morning. Most days are pretty good, actually, and I no longer fear standing or walking. Standing for longer amounts of time, especially on concrete, still bothers me — but not like it did, before. As for walking? I’ve been making the effort to increase my walking, bit by bit, and now, shopping or walking in downtown areas doesn’t bother me. In fact, I rather enjoy strolling through my neighborhood on a daily basis. My goal is 10K steps a day; I’m currently at 3750, and add a little more each week.
I still fear falling, but my gait is strong and getting stronger.
It’s a heck of a lot easier to find clothes that fit, and they don’t all look like they were made for dowdy old women. I have a waist, again, and by golly, I’m discovering I have shoulder blades!
Heels! Granted, I don’t wear ankle breakers, but I can get around in moderate heels. This was impossible except for the very shortest of walks back then. I’ve got a pair of wedge sandals that I bought last year, and I’m looking forward to wearing them this year.
We’re going camping in a few days, and I know things will be a lot easier for me, even compared to just last summer, especially since I’m setting daily step goals and routinely achieving them.
I breathe easier and better. IBS issues all but disappeared in my second month and rarely reappear.
I still set my ticker goals in 50 pound increments. In just 6 pounds, I get to reset it for a goal of 200 pounds lost. Incredible!
While I still experience knee pain, it’s a lot more manageable and isn’t debilitating; before, it was a handicapping condition. While I still don’t walk with as much freedom as other people my size and age, I’m much more in the normal range instead of needing reassurance that I’ll have places to take rests and relieve knee pain if I need to go anywhere.
I still have tons of support — thank you!
I can still be impatient, but I’ve learned so much over the last 3 1/2 years about the importance of getting my head straight. A prime example: I’ve had a really good recent run of weight loss, reporting losses every week for probably 5-6 weeks, but not this week. Before, I would have been bothered by it but unwilling to look at the reasons that might happen. This time, I understand; I ate too much this week, plain and simple, and sometimes my body isn’t in losing mode for reasons that don’t always make sense, so I take those times, do the best I can, and move on.
I’ve given myself another chance at living instead of just existing, and I’m enjoying the heck out of it. This is the biggest and best gift I could have ever given myself, and it’s not just my shape that’s changing.
Sometimes, I’m just not sure what to write about, so I asked if anyone had questions about my journey that they’d like to have answered.
Here are my answers to four questions that were posed to me. Also — I’m down an astounding 2.8 pounds this week, and I’m as surprised as anyone to have a fairly large loss on the heels of several weeks of loss. The biggest change I’ve made is walking consistently, every day — and while I know I didn’t burn through 2.8 pounds’ worth of calories while walking, it has definitely sparked something in my system. 144 pounds down, now!
How do you handle stress eating? Is it an issue?
144 pound hockey player. Weight doesn’t include puck or stick.
Stress eating isn’t currently an issue for me, but that’s not to say that it hasn’t been in the past. These days, when I’m under stress, I’m more likely not to eat; it’s not like it’s a superhuman strength or anything. It’s more because my stomach usually gets upset and I don’t want to think about eating.
It’s been many years since I used to stress eat. I would eat my feelings and then I’d end up bloated, feeling horrible, and totally ashamed of myself. But eating when stressed, occasionally binge eating, and just frankly torturing myself with food wasn’t that far removed from other addictive habits I’ve had over the years, including smoking, and yeah, even obsessively playing video games.
Although they manifest differently, they were all addictive behaviors for me. They were physical ways I tried to make myself feel better for short periods of time. Some people might turn to other substances; for me, it was food, chain-smoking, or shutting out reality and making myself the deal that I’d just play one-more-game.
Over the years, I had to work on conditioning myself to do positive things when I feel stress, instead of self-punishing things. I once substituted playing guitar for wanting to eat; this was when I was a teen, and I ended up really enjoying playing. (Note: I intend to get back to playing at some point, since I like camping. What’s a campfire without an annoying guitarist that can barely sing, after all?) While I wouldn’t suggest learning a new instrument, recreating habits is has really been the key to this.
That’s not an overnight thing. In the early days of diets, believe me, walking by those cookies and leaving them alone is an act of Herculean strength. After 3.5 years, though? I just really don’t care if there’s bad food available when I’m stressed. It does take conscious cultivation over time.
So — these days, I don’t stress eat. I understand it, though, especially since medicating with food — with anything, really — ends up making people feel worse than before they started. Although no one asked for advice, I’d suggest trying to substitute something that’s more rewarding. It may not be a solution, but it’s a start; after all, stress eating is a reward for the system, even if it’s brief.
How do you deal with depression without going off track?
This shares a lot of similarities with stress eating, for me, so I paired them.
I have suffered from both chronic and situational depression. I know that the more I sink into depression, the harder it is to claw myself out of it; in fact, I wrote about a recent instance that reminded me of dark days that hit me roughly a month ago. You can find it here.
I’m no expert on depression; I can only speak about what I’ve experienced, but for me, the difference between chronic and situational depression was that the situation would eventually be resolved and I’d feel better. Maybe. Well, mostly. Otherwise, I would become totally unproductive and unable (or sometimes unwilling) to make choices that would help me work my way out.
Depression shrinks your life to a pinpoint, and unfortunately, it can become its own reward. I certainly didn’t want to be depressed, but doing nothing meant I didn’t have to deal with it or put in the work — something those who don’t deal with depression likely don’t understand. It can become a comfortable prison of our own choosing. It can force your life to become so small that it’s lived minute by minute, choice by choice, and sometimes, if the pain is great enough, we reach out for anything that will calm those fires, even if we know it’s not the best choice.
And then we feel bad for making the bad choice, and reach out for the same thing again, because even though we know it’s the wrong choice, it makes us feel a little better for that small moment in time. Depression shuts off long term thinking; the only thing that matters is that exact moment we’re in.
I’m human. I make the wrong choice sometimes. But instead of letting it throw me into a cycle of reward and punishment, I have had to change my thinking. Sometimes these things happen; and sometimes, if there’s something that’s particularly tempting or I have a special occasion coming up, I will plan for the thing I want — it becomes part of my plan instead of trashing it.
It’s also no longer my habit to turn to food for comfort. I rarely if ever eat anything spontaneously or without conscious thought. I also make sure the things that tempt me aren’t easily available if I feel depression coming on, but my circumstances are more controllable than someone with, for instance, children in the house.
That’s a pretty basic answer, but that’s how I stay on track, even when I’m stressed or feeling signs of depression. I may have to force myself in that direction, but if I make an error, I brush myself and go on, and recognize what the consequences of that choice were. Because it’s going to happen. I also have to constantly remind myself of where my choices have landed me in the past.
Also — I haven’t talked about this much on this blog — but I make periodic videos. I made one the day after I started my journey, and probably four or five since then. I knew I would need solid reminders of how I felt at each of those stages, what I was dealing with, how I looked on the video, where I was mentally. Going back and watching those videos, now, is quite the eye opener; it’s like my own personal highlight reel. I highly suggest it; it’s quite cathartic.
Weigh daily, or no?
I’ve tried both ways. I actually set out, once, to only weigh when I changed a full size in clothing, so I kept goal clothes that I would try on occasionally and then trade them out for smaller sizes when they fit. It did work, for a while, but it didn’t solve the base problem, which was an obsession with whether or not I was losing weight.
I’ve weighed daily. I’ve been obsessive about that, as well — right down to comparing weights before and after showering, what sections of the floor gave me the best weight, if my foot positions made a difference. C’mon, I know there’s at least one person out there that’s done this, too!
I’ve also been guilty of kicking scales, screaming at the numbers, and all kinds of antisocial scale activity. And that’s the issue, really, because whether you choose to weigh daily really depends more on how you view the data you’re getting. Because that’s all it is: numerical feedback, and it should never be the sole indicator used for success.
Since I’ve changed my attitude about the scale, I weigh daily, more or less. I track it, along with body measurements and clothing sizes. There are times when my clothing size changes but the scale is stubborn, and vice-versa, so as long as you can keep that number in perspective without wanting to stab, maim, mutilate, or fling the scale, I say weigh as often as you want. Just don’t let it mess with your head.
I may be oversimplifying, but basically burn more calories than you take in, stay low on the starch, sugar and carb intake and you should lose weight (not that I am doing any of this), amirite?
Well, yes, you’re right.
And no, not quite right. At least not in my experience. While burning more calories than you take in and paying attention to food macros make weight loss possible, the difficult part is knowing what those ideal levels actually are. That’s the battle extreme: all of us have to figure out for ourselves what actually works. What works for a while, may not work past a certain point and will need to be changed.
The body is an amazing self-sustaining organism that evolves with what we attempt to do to it, and most successful diets require constant assessment and revision. It’s work. The basics are simple; implementation is the issue.
Most people just don’t want to do that. That’s probably the biggest reason the diet industry is so successful.
What is your go to alcoholic beverage when you don’t want to stray too far from your diet? Do you limit it to, say, weekends only?
A Perfect Margarita!
Now that’s what I want to talk about! Booze! I love this question and yes, I am a Parrothead, so naturally, it’s an important, life-changing question, to boot! 😉
I only drink alcohol on the weekends or on vacation. Let’s face it — alcohol has calories, so I watch it. Too much alcohol makes me want to eat things I don’t normally eat. Plus, since I restrict carbs in my diet, it makes me a rather easy drunk. Shhh! Don’t tell anyone.
My go-to drink is a perfect margarita, Margaritaville style. Essentially, it’s the way margaritas were originally made before restaurants were sold margarita machines. Ice, tequila, perhaps a little triple sec (or if I really want to keep tabs on the sugar, I’ll sub out orange Mio), and lime juice. Stir. Drink. You can thank (or curse) me, later.
PS: do NOT use Jose Cuervo; use something good. You’re worth it, and so are your taste buds.
Otherwise, I like the occasional glass of (usually red) wine, dry. I tend to avoid sweet drinks, for the most part, since my tastes have adapted to cutting out sugar and they taste very sweet to me.
If anyone else has questions, I’ll be happy to answer them. Thanks!
Now, I’ve gone and done it — I’ve broken my own record!
Back in 2005, I finished a weight loss regimen with a 140.5-pound loss, and this week, I broke through it and stand at a 141.2-pound loss. This is now my most successful effort ever, and the moment it happened caught me by surprise because I hadn’t expected the loss that morning. I admit I hollered a joyous “I did it!”, with no one to share it with except for my erstwhile walking companion and garbage disposal, Bonnie (my schnauzer).
In that moment of revelation, I felt both excited and vindicated. I’ve hoped for this singular moment for the entirety of my loss but did not honestly believe I’d achieve it. Yet, here I am.
Yet, here I am.
141 pounds of catfish! Where are the hushpuppies?
It’s just one moment, though, with the acknowledgment that my journey isn’t over and the hard work still continues. Over recent weeks, I’ve had to adapt my methods again, working in more movement, adding steps to my daily walks, and I’m sure that has helped with recent losses.
The work continues. When my weight loss stopped in 2005, I certainly accomplished a lot before that point, but it wasn’t enough. I hit a plateau and because of my own inflexibility, that plateau lasted for a couple of years, until I started gaining again. I made efforts to maintain, didn’t do what was necessary, and I regained everything.
I couldn’t admit I needed to change what I was doing. I couldn’t possibly be wrong about my methods. That stubbornness cost me. So did the brutal ways in which I worked out; they weren’t appropriate for my circumstances, and I ended up injuring myself. I wasn’t able to sustain the amount of work I had previously been putting in, and it all slipped away.
I know there are those who doubted I’d be able to do this, again. Heck, I was one of them! But here I am, and I have to admit that I’ve gotten here with less pain and less fatigue than I did twelve years ago. I’m also much more comfortable in my own skin and not given over to obsessing about every single thing.
These days, my life is constant surprises. I keep doing things I didn’t think were possible. I keep moving forward and making advancements and changes. As I told a friend just this last week, I feel like I’m shedding years along with the weight; I feel younger, I can do so much more, and the changes continue to astound me. These are the rewards for working so hard. Every step I take is a joy.
Above all, I am dedicated to not making the same mistakes I’ve made so many times before. Instead of simply living in this one moment, I’m moving on to my next goal of 150 pounds down and keeping my head up.
