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Y2, Week 3: Nearing a Goal

Goal pants: I didn’t try them on. I know this sounds like a lame excuse, but I was sweaty at the time, and they wouldn’t go up even to my hips. Considering I had them on, zipped, and took pics last week, I’m pretty sure this is a combo of weather, water weight, damp skin, and me not bothering to check back later, since it’s only week 2 on these pants.  Not even a full two weeks, really, and there’s usually not much difference this early on. Next week, I won’t be home to try them on, so by the week after that, I should be seeing a noticeable difference.

Next week, I’ll be in Las Vegas; that’s the goal I mentioned above in the title.  One of the reasons I’ve been working on exercise and diet is so I can more fully enjoy experiences like this. Walking easier, getting around better, and who knows? Maybe fitting in that skinny-butt Southwest Airline seat without fear of being charged double. 😉 So, I’m really looking forward to feeling better in that environment, along with being with friends.

Obesity brings with it a certain amount of paranoia and fears that people who don’t occupy as much space probably don’t ever think about. Being in crowds, wondering if I could move through a crowded room in a hurry without it becoming a problem, feeling as if I’m the largest person nearby — these are feelings that are pretty familiar, but I don’t worry about them much in my dinky burg of 4,000 people.  But in Vegas? In the airport? In restaurants? Yes, I definitely feel those things, and I wonder how much those feelings will have diminished. I’ll report back next week, or perhaps after I return.

Marching forward!

Y2, Week 2: Next Goal Clothes, Exercise

Somehow or other, I lost a week when I was labeling posts, so that’s why you aren’t seeing a Week 1 or a Week 52 from last year; they were pretty much the same week. 🙂

I selected new goal pants on Wednesday. Since it was just Wednesday when I tried them on to take pics, I didn’t bother with trying them on this morning. This time, I’m going with a pair of jeans that are size 22 petite.  A friend of mine says that petite sizes run a full size smaller than regular sizes; I’m going to assume she’s right, since that’s how these seem to fit. They are slightly smaller than the size 22 black jeans that I just called as a fit recently.  They are also at the smallest range for 22, so once I’m in them, the next size for goal pants is size 20.

I have kept the same shirt for a goal shirt; it fits everywhere but the upper sleeves. I have big upper arms (which I detest, but what are you going to do?), so when they aren’t so noticeably tight, I’ll call the shirt a fit. Off hand, I don’t recall what size the shirt is marked.

I’m still just amazed that I’m this close to a size 20.  I know that some clothes come in 16W, but for the most part, 18W is the smallest plus size.  I will be absolutely thrilled when I am out of the plus size department.

I’ve been going through more “archived” clothes from the last time I lost a great deal of weight.  Yesterday, I went through a bunch of dress clothes, and hung up the ones I wanted to keep. That’s the next major group of clothes that I’ll be fitting back into, and the majority of them are around size 18. After that, I’ll actually have to buy new clothes. I’m predicting/guessing/hoping that I’ll be in them in about another year. And honestly, a year doesn’t really sound like that far away.

Exercise:

I’m back in the swing on exercise. I’ve also been supplementing exercise a bit with taking brief walks around the neighborhood. Unfortunately, on Monday, I pushed it too hard and my knees told me in various ways to stop that crap, so I have had to back off on it.  I intend to restart, though, and do it more smartly. Since I’m walking for endurance and not exercise, I need to pay closer attention to the signs my knees are giving me. Also, my hip wants to fuss on occasion. The more I lose weight, though, the happier my joints will be.

 

One Year On The Road

That’s right. As of today, I’m one year down the road to a better and healthier way to live.

A year ago, I was faking it until I found some motivation.  I’m truly glad I did.  If you happen to be reading this, trying to find some courage to take that first step, let me echo what you surely know already: one day’s effort is the start of great things. Just get through today. Then, when tomorrow comes, get through tomorrow. Stop worrying about how long it’s going to take or how difficult it’s going to be; all of us can get through one day.

One day turns into a week of success, and then a month, and then suddenly you’re at where I am, today, and looking back at a year’s worth of work.  That year’s worth of getting through each day on its own has improved my life.

Where I was, then:  hip pain, plantar fasciitis, knee pain, water retention, heart palpitations. Size 3X tops. Size 26 jeans that were too tight. I had to wear flat granny shoes, no matter what. I needed a handicap hang tag because my knees had gotten so bad that I avoided places like Walmart or large grocery stores because the amount of walking was extremely painful.  I wore a custom-fitted knee brace to align my right knee and help me walk.  Generally, I felt horrible and cranky.

Today, a year later, 63 pounds down from my starting weight: Hip pain is gone. Plantar fasciitis is gone. Knee pain has gone from a regular 8/10 to 2/10, which is an awesome accomplishment, considering the likelihood that I will have total knee replacement in at least one knee, thanks to level 4 arthritis on all three surfaces of both knees.  The knee brace no longer fits, but I don’t feel like I need it, either.

I regularly wear 2X tops, and most of my pants are size 22. No more water retention or heart palpitations. No more handicap hang tag; I’ve gone from experiencing knee pain even when I’m sitting, to being able to walk parking lots and large stores with no problems.  I’m now taking small walks around my neighborhood twice a day. The granny shoes are history; I get to wear cute shoes, again!  Just nothing that Lady Gaga ever wore.

Am I still the large person in the room?  Often, yes, but I’m close now to being a more common size.  I don’t feel the same level of anxiety over being in crowded rooms or worrying about if I’ll be able to make the walk from a parking space to a meeting location.  I no longer worry about being a burden on my friends.  When I get on a plane at the end of this month, I’m not worried about if they’re going to try to charge me double for a plane ticket.

A lot has changed in a year.  I know I still have a long way to go, but not nearly as far as I did a year ago, and I’m happy to be on the road back to health.

Starting down the road took an act of faith and courage, and there have been times that I’ve been in doubt along the way. I know that will probably happen again, from time to time; I hit stages and road blocks when I have to do mental gut checks and also reassess where I am and whether something needs to change. That’s the nature of the beast: what worked for me in the past may no longer work, but I can change what I’m doing — and I can change how I think.  That’s how I’ve gotten through the last 365 days, and how I will get through the rest of today.

And tomorrow.

And the day after that… and so forth, until I’m at another spot in the road that’s worth assessing where I’ve been.  And when I reach that point, I intend to be proud and happy with the results.  Because, when you get down to it, no matter how you choose to spend one day, it’s the accumulation of them that matters. Where will I be in a year? It’s my choice — and yours — how to best spend just one day and see where it lands you, and go on from there.  In one year, I could have been no different than where I was the previous year.  But I’m glad to have chosen to take an act of faith and shed 63 pounds, as well as regaining strength from exercise.

One day makes a difference.

Week 51: Goal Pants Fit!

Finally… the black jeans are an official fit. My weight has been updated to a total loss of 63 pounds.

I’d have to go back through my posts, but I want to say I’ve been working on these goal pants since November. Crap — four months, at least! As I’ve said before, I will never pick that big of a size difference again when choosing goal pants.  Four months was entirely too long. Ideally, I’d like to go two months or so between the clothing I choose.

The shirt? It fits everywhere except the upper arms. They’re tight. Not tight enough to be uncomfortable, since the shirt has a little stretch in it, but tight enough that I don’t think it would look good to someone else.

Now, back to those pants. I admit I’ve gone through quite the head game with these jeans, including today. I think in part it’s because it took so long to call them a fit that I was hesitant to do it. Even this morning, I was putting off saying that they were at a point where they were okay to wear. I think part of it was that they were still a little too tight in the crotch/upper thigh area when I last weighed, which was only three pounds ago, so why would they really fit any better now?

I decided that I’d put them on this afternoon, after I finished exercising, and wear them for a while to see if they’d loosen up, and they did. They’re jeans, after all, and they have a small bit of stretch in them. I went grocery shopping in them, and my mother even gave them her seal of approval; trust me, my mother is opinionated about clothes!

So, I’m sitting at 63 pounds down, now, and these jeans are size 22 — on the small side of 22. I have other jeans and shorts in size 22 that I’ve been comfortably wearing for a while, now.  I’m pretty sure I know what jeans will be next, and they are a size 20 petite.

While we’re on the subject of clothing, I did something cathartic: I took all clothes that are currently too large for me and bagged them up. They’re being donated tomorrow.  It’s an entire leaf size garbage bag full.  It felt really good to say goodbye to size 26 and 3X. Someone who needs them will have them, now, and I do consider that a big deal, because plus-size clothes are expensive.  They’re going to Big Brothers/Big Sisters.

In addition, I bagged up four other bags of clothing that is too small, but I don’t like the clothes. They are leftovers from my last big weight loss, and my strategy is different, now. Then, I was focused on a goal, and refused to buy clothes unless they were second-hand or off the clearance rack, because I considered my interim weights to be temporary and not worth spending much money on.  In retrospect, I was punishing myself.  So, I went through the clothes I’d kept that were too small, and opted to donate the ones that I don’t like.  That was four more garbage bags worth.  Why keep things that I didn’t like, or are woefully out of style?

This time around, while I am keeping spending on clothes at a minimum, I’m viewing things differently. The clothes that I have which are too small are ones which I really liked and are still in style. I’m only buying more clothes if I have necessities (think bras, underwear!), if there’s a problem with having enough of a certain kind of clothes for a season (like shorts in the right size), or I just find a piece of clothing I really like.  Everything I have, now, is something I like. This is part of accepting who I am right now, at this given moment.

I’m not taking my eyes off the goal; but I’m also not punishing myself for not being there, yet.  I want to feel good about myself at every stage, and this plan is working well.

Week 50: Getting Close

I know, I’m late again.

I tried on my goal pants and shirt last Friday (Week 50; this is actually the start of Week 51), and the pants are closer to fitting. Just a slight difference, but I lost in the right places, and that’s what counts. I go to Vegas in about a month, and it would really be sweet to be able to wear them.

Speaking of Vegas, I’m also flying Southwest Airlines. I admit that the last time I flew SWA, out to Vegas, I was concerned that they’d pop me for an extra seat. I was most definitely heavier then I am, now.  I know I won’t have that as a possibility this time around, but what I’d really absolutely be over the moon about is if I don’t have to get a seat extender. We’ll see.

A few minor but nice victories: last Friday, I sat down on my mother’s couch, and crossed my legs. Not for a long time, but it was still sort of momentous to me!  I also did some excavating through our third bedroom, where I keep the smaller clothes that aren’t close to fitting yet, and found a couple pairs of shorts. They fit. And that’s really great, because I had been going through my available spring/summer clothes; most of what I’ve been wearing lately have been getting baggy.  I really would like to work down as far as I can in size without investing a lot in clothes, so this is good news.

 

Week 49: Weight Updated — 60 Pounds Down!

You read that right!

Once again, I weighed, but not because my goal clothes are a fit. (More on that, in a moment.)  It was because I visited the doctor’s office for a case of bronchitis, and I knew they’d weigh, so I went ahead and weighed at home.  I mention the reason more for my own benefit, because I have sworn to not become scale-addicted and this is a reminder to myself that I’m off the scale until I can declare a fit.

Regardless of the reason, I’m glad to see 60. I wanted to see that number by the time a year came around, which is in just a few short weeks. That means, on average, I’m losing 5 pounds a month; not exactly Speedy Gonzales, but that’s okay — it’s solid progress. I’m happy with where I am at this moment, and looking forward to continuing.

Now, as for the goal clothes: the pants are closer to being a fit. They now button and zip easily; I’m just waiting for a loss in the upper thigh region, and they should fit. They’re probably close enough to do the jeans-stretch thing by wearing them, and they’d fit, but that’s not how I want to declare a fit. I want them to fit correctly from the first moment I put them on, even if they’ve just been freshly washed. As for the shirt, the only tight spot now is the upper arm area.

A final note: thanks to upper respiratory crud (and the resulting bronchitis), I’ve been out of the pool for several weeks. I’ve made a few trips down, but nothing I’d consider to be consistent enough to call it a win on exercise.  I’m now on antibiotics and hope to return to the water next week.

Weeks 46-47: Goal Pants, Thoughts on Slow Loss

I tried on my goal pants last Friday and today; they are close — this close — to fitting.  The last two fits were approximately the same.  There’s only one spot where they really need improvement before I can call them a fit. That would be in the upper thighs/crotch area, where they don’t quite go up all the way.

I’ve been working on these same jeans since November. Yeah, over three months, now.  Enough already, I want them to fit! Like I’ve said before, though: this was my fault for choosing  jeans that were so far removed in fit from the previous pair. Yet, when they do fit, I will truly know I’ve accomplished something big.

I’ve been thinking about this for the past few weeks… I will be at this diet for a year at the beginning of April, just over a month away. I’m really hoping I can call these goal pants a fit by then, so I can claim the loss. I have been sorely tempted to weigh, lately; partly because I know I’ve lost since the last time I weighed (which was in November! Did I mention that?), and partly because I keep looking at my current number and cringing, like I should have done better.

I keep telling myself that losing slowly this time is to my benefit; as far as I can tell, I haven’t stalled, I have felt good, and while I’ve fought the occasional “why am I bothering?” demon, I’ve been satisfied with my cycling and level of restriction. What I’m also hoping is that by losing slowly, my body isn’t freaking out and I won’t hit a point where my body just screams and puts on the brakes, and won’t let me lose further. I don’t think that I’ve dropped into starvation mode at any time.

But the loss has been absolutely and painfully slow. The first time I was on Atkins, I dropped 140 pounds in probably 1.5 years or so, maybe less, and after that, it was a struggle for every ounce lost. It was about 10 pounds a month, sometimes more, sometimes less. I loved being able to lose it that fast, but in retrospect, I’m not so sure it was the best thing for my body.

Still. My brain keeps asking me if losing this slow is a good thing, or I’m just making excuses for slow weight loss and should be trying harder. Thanks to a lifetime of yoyo dieting and the constant insinuation that if I haven’t gotten my weight under control, I’m doing something w-r-o-n-g, this is a constant mental battle. I’ve been fighting the weight loss battle since I was a kid, when I really wasn’t all that overweight, but my father constantly called me “chubby” and other less endearing terms. Hell, I cringe when I hear people call babies “chubby” — I just don’t think it’s a nice term *at all*. (I also don’t like “plump”, for the record, or any other term that is supposed to be a cute way to mask “OMG are you ever FAT!”.)

For right now, I’m shooting for *not* being the fattest person in the room on a consistent basis. Then, I’ll be happy to just be counted among the normal distribution of women my age; just getting out of plus size clothes will do that for me. Would I love to be a size 8? Oh, hayell, YES, but for right now, I’d be happy to be able to walk into any clothing store and find at least *something* that will fit without having to look at the end of the plus-size rack. At size 22 for jeans, I’m pretty firmly entrenched right in the middle of the plus sizes, but I prefer that to being at the end of them.

Related to this, my mother was going through photos and throwing a bunch out. She said she found one where I was in it, and she said I must have weighed at least 400 pounds. Was I ever over 400? Yeah, maybe, I guess that’s possible. I was busting out of size 26 when I started this latest effort at 334 pounds and size 3X. I have, in a chest, a jacket and jeans I wore at my largest; the jacket was 4X (I think?) and the pants were size 32.  So yeah, I guess when I wore that size, it’s possible I was over 400. I just don’t know what I weighed at my largest. Most scales don’t go over 300, and besides that, I don’t think anyone *wants* to see what they weigh when they’re tipping the scales by that much.

Anyway… Mom said that right now, I look *terrific* compared to that pic, that I’m doing good at this and she was happy for me. In some ways, I wish I’d seen the pic. I think she was being very complimentary, but the weird part of this was that I was a little bit dismayed by it, as well, as if I felt slightly chastised for ever having been that weight. It’s foolish to feel bad about it, now, because I’m no longer that weight, but I was still a person with feelings, even at that weight, and I think what really sticks with me is the judgment people make when you’re that fat.

I actually had someone tell me, when I was at my lowest weight, that I looked really good and they were proud of me… and then they told me they were glad I lost weight because I sure was ugly when I was that fat. The guy who said it to me said it jokingly, but you know, I don’t think he was really kidding all that much; that was his opinion of me as a fat person. And that judgment hurt. It hurts, now that I’ve gained a lot of the weight back, because I sometimes wonder what people think about me inside. I wonder if they see the fat, or they see *me*.

It just seems that often, people think that being fat is an indictment of a person’s whole ethic. That they don’t try hard enough, that they’re weak, that they’re lazy. Are they at least partly right? After being faced with that judgment pretty much my whole life, some of it was bound to sink into my own brain, where *I* think that my efforts aren’t enough, no matter what the results are.

No, I’m not in a mental place where I’m at risk of tossing in the towel. Not at all. I’m just voicing some of the things that have been rolling around in my mind. I want to flog myself for not losing at the rate I did years ago, and yet, I know that this way is better for me. As long as I am getting healthier and smaller, I’m doing it right.

Week 45: Goal Pants, and Rate of Weight Loss

Yeesh! I’m doing a poor job of keeping this blog up to date, and I need to do better with it.

Last Friday, I tried on goal pants and shirt. It had been two weeks since I tried either of them on; the previous week, I felt like I was bloated after being sick all week, so I opted not to try them on.  Also, because of a nice round of sinusitis, I was out of the pool for the majority of two weeks.

So, I didn’t expect great things when I tried on the pants and shirt. Surprise! The pants buttoned and zipped pretty easily.  They’re still a bit tight in the upper thighs; they lack about an inch or so from fitting well in the crotch.  Regardless, there was a noticeable difference in fit.  The same with the shirt; it’s a long sleeve button-down shirt, and there was no button gap at the bra area.  The problem is mostly in upper arms, where it’s still noticeably snug. If it weren’t for that, this shirt would be *just about* wearable.

I’d love to be able to wear at least the jeans on my trip to Vegas, which is in a little more than two months.  They are size 22.  I’ve been wearing another pair of size 22 jeans the last few days; they fit nicely, but must be at the upper size range of fit for size 22.  Regardless, I started dieting when I was in the upper size range of 26, and they were a tight fit.  In fact, it would be pretty awesome if I could get on the plane to Vegas and not have to ask for a seat belt extender. That’s always embarrassing.

On to a related subject: are people noticing my weight loss?  Well, no, not really.  My last weigh-in, which was in November, was 44 pounds down.  I’m probably at least 60 pounds down, now.  Other than a mention at the gym by someone who knows I’m trying to lose, as well as the occasional mention by someone else who also knows I’m trying to lose, no one has said a word.  Not even my husband.

Months ago, I did have some head games going on about when people would notice, because I felt like I could get away with sabotaging myself up to that point.  I’m pretty focused on my efforts at the moment, so at least for now, sabotage (for that reason!) isn’t really a factor.  I’m not going to kid: it would be nice for someone to occasionally notice the effort I’m making.

However, I think one of the major head games I played with myself when I lost 140 pounds years ago was that I lost it fast enough for people to notice, and then for people to barely recognize me.  Because of that, my weight loss was often the topic of conversation.  I became defined by my weight loss as much as I’d previously been defined by my weight.  Friends, when you are seriously the largest person in the room, no one may say anything, but you know it, they know it, and it defines you.  When you lose a big chunk of that, it defines you even more.

I really don’t want to be defined by my weight, although I know that currently, I am.  I really don’t want to be defined by loss, either, so losing it as slowly as I am, without notice, is okay by me.

Week 44: Goal Pants

In short: I didn’t try on my goal clothes today.  I have been sick for most of the week and haven’t exercised; while I have stayed well within my dietary allowances, I’m also sloshing around like a cheap kiddie swimming pool.  Hopefully the water will be gone by this time, next week, and I’ll venture a try on.

This doesn’t happen often, but this week, I have wanted to stray.  Maybe part of it was just the need for convenience; I didn’t want to go through the effort to cook or make anything. And I think part of it was this stupid internal thing of feeling sorry for myself. My pants fit tighter this week because I’m carrying what feels like a significant amount of water weight, and those sensors that scream “failure!” were hard at work, moving me toward the Frito bag on the counter (didn’t do it) and the bottle of shiraz (also didn’t do it).

That’s something I’ll have to continually be aware of: when my brain tells me I’ve failed, it also tells me I should eat things that aren’t going to help that failure, setting me up for even more misery.  That makes as much sense as thinking “I didn’t lose a pound this week, so I’m gonna eat that box of jelly donuts!”  How does that solve anything? Still, especially when I’m sick, that voice is strong.  It’s always just under the surface.

The other part of this is the need to remind myself that I need to take care of my body.  Not exercising for a week, when my body is trying to recover, isn’t the end of the world — as long as I’m back at it next week, which I will be.

Week 43: Goal Pants

Situation: normal, which is good.

My goal pants and shirt saw a slight change this week; they weren’t quite as difficult to put on.  I can tell, like last week, that the clothes I wear daily are fitting looser, though, so that’s concrete enough reinforcement for me. Note to self: never, EVER choose such a long range size difference when setting a goal, again. I’m far too impatient.

Yesterday, I put on a pair of jeans that I bought back in the fall and didn’t fit. Recently, they’ve fit fine, but are somewhat stretchy, so I usually wear them for a while before they ease up and fit the way I want.  Now, they fit loose after a fresh laundering, and felt baggy by the end of the day.  Yay!  They are size 24.

I have an upcoming trip at the end of April, and I’d love to be able to wear my goal jeans on the trip and be comfy in them.  I think that’s a nice goal in itself.

Otherwise, I seem to be pretty well in the groove, lately, and feeling confident.  The last few weeks have been excellent for working out, and right now, I feel pretty strong.  At some point, I want to start weight lifting again, but it will probably weight until later in the spring or early summer.

Yes, this is a brief update, but at least I’m moving forward.  I’ve watched over the past few weeks as new people have joined the gym and then their numbers have slowly dropped off in the interim.  We call them resolutionists; they make a resolution to get healthier in the new year, and last for a few weeks before they just stop coming and making an effort.  I can’t say I haven’t been there, but I’m glad to say that doesn’t describe me now.  43 weeks into this effort, and 10 months; all one day at a time.