Back In The Saddle Again

Jul3

I’ve lost another four pounds since last Friday; I am now precisely 11 pounds above my low. While things slowed down considerably this week, I’m still losing, and that’s progress. The rapid loss I had last week was much like the loss people see at the very beginning of a diet; a water loss, which is usually a lot more impressive on the scale than actual loss of body fat.

Water, water – EVERYWHERE.

Although seeing big losses makes me feel good, and I have needed that boost, knowing that I’m to the actual body reduction part of weight loss is also encouraging. I’m also a little bit surprised that I don’t have more than 11 pounds to lose; I’m confident I can reach my previous low mark, and break through it.

I’ve made the decision to tighten up my weekend eating; this had gotten out of hand. I’m also avoiding empty carbs/calories, such as fruity drinks, even though they taste good and that’s what everyone else is drinking. I have to remember that my friends can drink these things with less consequence than I do.

I’m back to accounting for every little thing I put in my mouth, so I know exactly what I’m really eating. This is an exercise in discipline, and I generally do well with my eating when I do this. I’m also working on drinking half my weight in ounces of water each day, which I have to admit is my biggest challenge — at my weight, that is a lot of water.

Basically, what I’m doing is a return to a discipline of awareness, which I have pushed away for months. It takes discipline to lose weight when you face a number of metabolic issues; and if I’m not willing to analyze what I’m doing in depth, no one will.

Fat Bottom Girls

Jun26

No doubt many of you have figured I’ve given up on myself, again. I admit that almost happened.

But not quite. No, I’m back on the wagon, and giving it another try.

A week ago, I returned from a 10 night vacation in Mexico, plus a travel day on each side; nearly two weeks gone. I knew it would be a challenge, and I was sorely disappointed when I realized that my weight the last time I went on vacation, in July of last year, was almost exactly the same. I’ve basically spent a year maintaining my weight, and floating within a few pounds of my low but never surpassing it.

I told myself that when I returned from vacation, I’d do something about it; but I also secretly wondered if I’d bother to go back on plan at all afterward, because I’d gotten so discouraged and just had no fight in me. Not to mention, vacations are a challenge for diets, especially if you plan to go off of them for the duration, and nearly two weeks is a long time.

Instead, I found myself ready to try again. I was frustrated many times during those two weeks; my mobility problems meant traveling about mostly by wheelchair, and the many steep inclines and staircases at our resort meant stress on arthritic knees that required a steroid shot for pain before ever leaving home. Coming down sick while on vacation also didn’t help my level of frustration; it’s already a challenge for me to get out and about, but to do it with tonsillitis (of all things to catch in Mexico, it was my *tonsils* that misbehaved!) sapped me even further.

There was the hassle of airline seats, my own discomfort in bathing suits, and the strange attraction this year of having complete strangers tell me their medical woes. (People, I am in a wheelchair because I can’t walk long distances and it’s a compromise I made so I don’t slow down the people I’m with — not because I want to hear about your detailed medical history.)

I found myself facing a number of fears; the possibility of slipping in the tile shower or getting in and out of pools, inability to climb places for fear of falling, and more. Even more, I was frustrated with not being able to do things easily, such as getting into and out of transport vans without a fuss, walking on the sand, moving around freely on a boat ride we took, climbing steps to a beach bar.

The truth underlying it all was that every single one of these things would be easier if I lost more weight.

Many issues: one solution. Get my fat ass back to work on getting rid of my fat ass.

And so here I am, again, ready to dig in and feeling pretty good about my accomplishments this week; I stepped on the scale on Monday to the bad news that I was 23+ pounds above my low, but I’ve lost 8.6 pounds of that so far, and I have new strategies to assist me when that beginning whoosh of water weight wears off.

I am committed to remembering this — and to doing what’s necessary to keep from putting myself in the same situation, again.

Come Monday

Jun5

It’s been several weeks since I’ve written in this blog. I admit I have been struggling with weight; my brain no longer wants to make the effort, especially after realizing that I am within just a couple pounds of the same weight I was at this time last year.

I know the answer, of course — don’t give up. Giving up only results in weight gain. So, I still keep enough on my eating plan to maintain, but I’m still carrying extra weight over and above my low, and after having received a steroid shot for pain management, that struggle is even tougher. My pain levels (from chronic arthritis) are much lower, which I greatly appreciate, but my appetite is through the roof.

Add to this — I am about to leave on vacation to an all-inclusive resort, which means unlimited food and drink. I am determined to enjoy my time while there… but the Monday after my return, I need to recommit myself to getting this weight off and actually following through with everything I know works. I haven’t been doing that. I’ve grown lax and have done my own fair share of thinking “this just isn’t fair”.

And it’s not fair that I have the issues I do when losing weight. I have to put in a colossal effort, and I know that my plight is misunderstood; even my closest friends have tried to convince me to do something easier than diet and exercise, but that’s the only thing that will lead to long-term success. I refuse to resort to methods that will not teach me how to live with a thinner, healthier body.

My target date for getting my head in the right place and giving this effort a fresh start is on the Monday after I return. I can do this.

Brave

May1

The last few weeks, one good thing has remained consistent: my weight is down a little bit more each Friday. I’m still a little over 11 pounds above my low weight, but that fabled tortoise still crossed the finish line, and I will, too.

I’ve been learning some lessons about being strong the past month, and it sure hasn’t been easy.

Back when I was in roughly 6th grade or so, I was walking home from school. I was alone, and about a block away from home, when my next door neighbor, a girl in 4th grade and much smaller than me, ran up behind me and grabbed me by the throat. She tried to pull me to the ground, but only succeeded in hanging off my back. She was also alone; she was a little skinny thing, and although I was of normal height and weight for my age, I was two years older and easily fended off her attack. But I hadn’t expected it. Nope, not at all. I knew she didn’t like me, but I’d never really spoken to her, either.

But I hadn’t expected it. Nope, not at all. I knew she didn’t like me, but I’d never really spoken to her, either. Her family didn’t like our family because we lived on property they had attempted to buy. She took on that dislike as her own, and probably never really understood the adult reasons her parents felt as they did.

Just a few weeks ago, it happened, again; no, I wasn’t jumped from behind while walking home, but the result was the same. Someone I barely know struck out at me viciously. It was unexpected and harsh, and unlike my neighbor from over 40 years ago, she kept me from participating in something that was extremely important to me. She also hurt other people I love dearly by holding the same anger and resentment toward them.

My first reaction was total shock. Am I that bad of a person that someone would be that intentionally mean and callous? What did I do to cause this? What did I not do that caused this?

That shock turned to anger of a level that I have not felt since my father deserted us, cleaned out the bank accounts, took everything of value, and left — and then called me the next day to ask me if I was angry.

Hell yes, I was angry.

When someone intentionally acts against you to deny you of something very meaningful to you, it’s shocking. At least to me. That’s the stuff you see on tv; soap operas, the Jerry Springer show, or other afternoon dramas. Not on a personal level. I felt powerless to fight back, because the situation was a touchy one. I’m usually one to speak my mind, but my voice was negated. To speak — to say anything at all — was only going to make an overly dramatic situation worse, and although it pained me to do it, I let her have her way.

It’s one of the toughest things I’ve ever had to do. Standing on integrity is no easy feat. Saying nothing in the face of false accusations is a character builder, for sure.

I’ve come to realize, just over the past few days, that not only is there nothing I can do to change this situation, but that the issue is entirely hers, and her resentment is not just directed at me, or at my family, but toward a large range of people. I was just among the first to be caught in that net. I see no reason, now, to try and understand why someone would willingly choose to be this way.

I can’t change her actions. But I can certainly change mine. I am choosing to deal with my grief over my brother’s death in a constructive manner, in a way that will honor his memory rather than shame it.

So how does this relate to weight loss? This is, after all, a weight loss blog.

My first and immediate thought, when this whole event happened, was that if someone felt that way toward me, I must be guilty of something. This is old mental programming. Granted, I think self-evaluation is important, and if I have actually done something wrong, it’s an important step toward changing the wrong.

But that’s a thought process, and what I experienced was a purely emotional kick to the gut that winded me. What did I do? Am I a bad person?

My father taught me that self-punishment over years of making me feel as if I didn’t deserve anything nice or good because it was my fault, rather than the truth: he was a misogynist. I was born female. That’s not a good mix.

My hair-trigger reaction to emotional attacks is to immediately believe that something is my fault and that I have done something wrong; my self-punishment is to deny myself anything that might be construed as a good thing. On an intellectual level, I know that’s faulty belief, but this experience reminds me that I still have a long way to go in excising that devil from my brain; or at the very least, learning to make it quiet down.

I have to remain in control of my own existence and be discerning when I consider how others assess me. That spark of self-doubt may always be there, but it’s up to me to keep it from flaming up.

The Way We Were

Apr24

Or at least… the way I was, which was off plan, even though I had convinced myself that I was adhering somewhat to plan. And I was — but not nearly enough. I’m working on small steps to get back in the groove of things. The reward? I’m down a couple of pounds for the week, although still above my low weight.

While the famous Streisand song is more about reminiscing, and I suppose I do reminisce about the fit body I have had a few times over the course of my lifetime, my emphasis is more on returning to the discipline that resulted in the previous successes I’ve had. I firmly believe that no matter what plan you’re working, the key to it is discipline; being wishy-washy just doesn’t cut it.

This week, I’ve been working on really watching my food intake and recording it. I haven’t been good about recording every last bite, but even partial recording leads to assessment and more careful consideration. I’ve made some progress, and as I head into a big event weekend, I’ve already given some thought about how I’ll approach my food (and alcohol) intake, so I can mitigate the weekend’s damages. I already know and accept that I’ll have to work hard to compensate next week.

As I head into next week, I plan on focusing on more discipline in my food intake; I find that the more I feel in control over exactly what I’m doing, the less I struggle. Even if the world is flying apart around me, I know I have control over this one thing. To use a cliche, it’s empowering; when I don’t feel good about myself overall, at least I know I’m doing something good for myself by being in control of my eating. That sense of satisfaction spreads to other things, and allows me to bring more parts of my plan under control.

So that’s the plan for right now — it’s been a long slow loss, but I’m not done, yet; not by any means.

Don’t Fence Me In

Apr17

This week, I was solidly back on my chosen eating plan. Did I lose? Just a tiny bit; and in a character building exercise, I actually gained weight at the beginning of the week. Talk about testing my patience! But at least I’m getting back on the right path.

True lifestyle changes occur when habits are changed, and I have many to change; someone once told me that it takes 21 days to truly form a consistent habit, and dropping even one of those days means you may have to start again from scratch. I don’t know if that’s true, but it makes sense; I think that’s how so many of us, when trying to lose weight, tend to slowly drift off course rather than jump off the weight loss wagon intentionally.

Choosing which habits to intentionally change is my next challenge, and my dog taught me a bit of a lesson in that regard; I may need to open myself up and really look at the habits I keep, because something I’m unaware of — something I’ve just learned to do (the wrong way, perhaps) — may be the key to my ultimate success.

Bonnie, asking for some lap time.

Yes, my dog.

Her name is Bonnie, and she’s a mini schnauzer we’ve had since she was a puppy. The last dog I had, although I loved her dearly, was a rescue dog with a set of built-in habits that never completely got changed, so when we brought Bonnie home, we very consciously dedicated ourselves to breeding good habits in her.

One was completely inadvertent. Instead of closing doors in the house to keep her out of specific rooms, we used portable sliding window screens; they stand about 15” high or so, and when they were in place, she made no attempt to go over or around them. (Maybe because she could see through them.) They weren’t always in place; we could just slide one across the doorway and she’d stop, and then watch us (sometimes sadly) through the screen. But she never challenged the screen; she accepted that as long as the screen was in place, she would just patiently wait until we stopped doing whatever we were doing. (At the time, my husband was recovering from knee surgery and having a young puppy at his ankles wasn’t necessarily a good thing.)

Bonnie has been full grown for several years, now. She weighs enough and is tall enough that if she really, really wanted to go through one of the screens, she could easily do it. She could hop over it or paw at it, and maybe push it out of the way. It’s rare that I have the screens up anymore; I really have no need, but if the screen does get put in place, Bonnie does what she’s been trained to do: wait patiently by the screen.

She’s also a great jumper, and bigger than our former dog, who was a bit of a problem child. She could jump up on a dining room chair and cruise whatever happened to be on the dining table. I learned this when I first adopted her; despite her 13 pounds and small stature, she jumped up on the table and ate 5 out of 6 heartworm pills — which ended up with a trip to the vet to pump her stomach. This was just the start of any number of antics with that dog.

And yet, at 20 pounds and much taller (and younger), Bonnie will jump up on the couch easily, or in our laps when we’re sitting outside, but it has never once occurred to her to scavenge the dinner table.

Is she a good dog? Yes, absolutely — when it comes to animals, I think part of their behavior is inbred, and the rest is taught. Bonnie is a lucky pup in both cases, but most of all, she’s in the habit of being good. Those habits are consistent.

Have I been as consistent as I could be with my chosen weight loss plan and journey? Nope. And I need to be.

It’s time to change some habits.

On The Road Again

Apr10

It’s been a while since I’ve written here; I clearly see that I need to dust and set the mental furniture straight, again.

I freely admit that I hit an emotional logjam many weeks back, and that’s one of the big reasons why I haven’t been blogging — or making much of an effort in weight loss. I wrote some time ago about my oldest brother, Greg, and his battles with learning how to walk, again, after back surgery; he finally lost a ten year battle with prostate cancer a week ago today. He chose to discontinue treatment last fall, and without going into all the details, I think that news was probably my trigger for starting to lose my own mojo; not just for weight loss, but for a lot of things.

We all handle grief in different ways; I’d been saying my goodbyes to him for years, silently marking the last hug, the last phone call, knowing they would likely be the last ones and tucking them away in my memory to treasure later. I think this is often true for those who love people with terminal illnesses; that cataloging of good moments, consciously or not.

When finally faced with the reality that his time with us was growing short, my emotions short circuited. I didn’t lose capacity or ability; but desire? Yes. Desire to make an effort, as in weight loss. Willingness to enjoy the things I truly love to do — I stopped doing them, as if I were punishing myself for doing something wrong, inflicting pain on myself for some unknown transgression or misbehavior. Meanwhile, my brother was still very much on earth, and we had some quite lovely conversations, he and I. He kept his happiness and love for life until shortly before his death; me? I was miserable.

And stagnant. I’ve always believed that to not move forward is a step backward. The rational side of me is acutely aware of purpose and function.

But the emotional side of me was stopped at a gate across the road; unable to journey further until the gate was opened, my life and my joy suspended there in waiting for those inevitable words, which came last Friday. I think if he had known that I was somehow denying myself these simple joys in life, he likely would have told me I was crazy, and to just go be happy, but being at a distance is insulation. He didn’t know I’d hit this logjam, and while I knew that I was silently putting my life on hold until his death, I felt powerless to do much about it.

The last week has been the toughest; death often brings out the worst in people, and we have surely experienced that after the death of a gentle and kind soul, which has complicated my grief. And yet, the last couple days, I’ve been able to finally turn my eyes away from the anger and realize that I’m ready to start enjoying my life, again.

In a strange way, releasing anger awakened me from my lethargy. Getting angry and working through it released a great deal of emotion that I’ve bottled up for months. And now that the anger is trickling away, I realize that the worst of my grief was in watching my brother’s slow decline at an incurable distance.  His life is now fully complete; he’s walking on a beach somewhere in the sunshine, a beer in one hand, his guitar in the other. The gate’s open, and it’s high time for me to resume my journey — in many ways.

I’ll be working to find my weight loss mojo again; it’s not far off, I can see it roadside in front of me, waiting. I’ve maintained at about 10 pounds above my low, so getting back on track won’t be difficult.

There are other goals I was working toward, as well; life changes are rarely in just one area, after all, and it’s high time to get on with those things, too. Reclaiming joy in life honors my brother’s death most of all; he was a truly happy person, even in facing death.

I’m so glad to be on the road, again.

Y1WK25: The Good Side

Feb20

Last week, I made some new commitments to myself, in hopes that with renewed effort, I might revisit the low I hit last November within the next month or two; after all, my weight has drifted up as high as 17 pounds over that amount, and I haven’t had much luck in taming that beast. I admit my efforts have been halfhearted, and while I think it’s folly to hope for something to spur my brain into action, I got it anyway.

This morning, I am now 1.8 pounds above my low, and the lowest weight I’ve been since before Christmas.

To what do I owe this incredible success in quick and efficient weight loss? Not to renewed efforts, exercise, or laser focus, my friends. Nope.

Not an advisable diet plan.

I owe it all to a lovely bout of viral gastroenteritis.

You know… the stomach flu.

I made myself a lot of promises on Friday; about 1 am on Monday, those promises were dashed. I’ll save you the details, but anyone who’s had the stomach flu knows that any thought of diet or exercise is just foolishness. In a case of truly bad timing, my last meal before this commenced was an especially spicy chili verde.

It was Tuesday before I took hesitant nibbles of anything, and it occurred to me, then, that there might be a good side to this, after all. While Tuesday’s fare was off diet (saltines! More saltines!), I slid back into clean eating and recording everything that goes in my mouth. In short, this helped me get back on track with two items that needed to be checked off the list before I could have any success getting this weight back off.

While I would never recommend using the stomach flu as a dieting device, this was more about turning something negative, that could have derailed me just when I’d truly decided to dig deep again, into something that worked in my favor. Not only is it nice to see that number on the scale going downward, again, but my joints feel better and my clothes fit differently. I’m a couple steps closer to doing what I need to do to be successful.

Sometimes, opportunities for success come in the oddest of ways.

Y1WK24: Don’t Give Up On Me!

Feb13

Please — I’m begging you — don’t give up on me.

I’m not talking to “you”, those who read this blog, but to me, that vision in the mirror.

Because that’s what I’ve been doing. I recognize all the signs. The subtle letting go of things, one by one, until one day, I realize I’m not really making the effort I once was, and I really don’t want to, because I’ve fallen into apathy.

I am that person, and I’m admitting it, here.

The last blog I wrote was on taking 100% responsibility for my life. I’ve done some soul-searching, but not enough to get my head fully in the right place.

Taking that responsibility means recognizing what I am no longer doing for myself. Not only have I stopped being disciplined in my weight loss methods, but I also have not been disciplined in other areas of my life that I know, without a doubt, are to my benefit and enjoyment.

This morning, I watched the videos I made during my journey. I knew, when I made them, that I would reach a point where I just simply deny and tuck under the rug all the things I’ve been working toward. I’ve made some big changes in my life, in the name of achieving long term goals and dreams; and now that those things are finally falling into place, I find myself facing them — not with joy, but with fear.

Fear always holds me back. Fear is the embodiment of being told I’m not good enough, so many years ago, and reacting by giving in to that devaluation.

I fear that I can’t do the things I set my sites on; so I short myself the effort and therefore, the disappointment of failure.

I fear the truth that I’m really not a good writer, so I don’t write.

I fear the pain of exercise, and the judgments people inevitably make of that fat woman lumbering into the gym, so I don’t go.

I fear the possibility that I may never be able to lose all the weight I need to lose, so I stop trying.

And that’s where I am, today, looking around and realizing how many things I’ve let go in the name of fear.

I’m not looking for cheerleaders, even though I appreciate it when people support my efforts.

I know that when I write, it’s not about who reads it or what they think of it; it’s about my need to tell a story, first and foremost. Editing takes care of the rest.

I know that when I walk into the gym — or anywhere else, that matter — there will always be those that judge me by my appearance, even if I achieve every single one of my health-related goals. People, by nature, judge. Will I let the judgment of people I don’t know or care about hold me back?

I know there’s the possibility that I may never be able to lose all the weight I need to lose — but that is never an excuse for not making the effort. Without the effort, I guarantee it will not happen. That’s the stark reality of the matter; this takes effort. Period.

I know the steps I need to take to make each of these things a reality — and it starts with not giving up on myself. It’s time to be brave, again; to step forward and take chances.

So here I am, friends; kick my head into the right place or give me encouragement, tell me your stories, inspire me to be better.

But whatever you do, please don’t give up on me.

Y1WK21: Taking Responsibility (Success, Pt 1)

Jan23

I’m still on the roll downhill after holiday weight gain; this morning, I’m a little over 6 pounds away from my low, so I’m slowly getting there. My body always gains faster than it loses. My plan is to be in losing territory, again, within the next few weeks.

If I plan to be successful at that, I need to embrace doing what’s necessary to make it happen. In light of that, I’m undertaking a project that I’ve done, before, but this will be new with weight loss: I’m going to apply The Success Principles to weight loss. If you’re not familiar with the book, it’s “The Success Principles – How to Get from Where You Are to Where You Want to Be” by Jack Canfield, the author of the Chicken Soup for the Soul books. While I’ve never read the Chicken Soup books, The Success Principles resonates with me, and I find that when I spend time thinking about them and applying them, I generally am in more command of my life.

I can’t promise I’ll make it through the whole book… but here we go!

Principle 1: Take 100% responsibility for your life.

This is a huge undertaking, right out of the gate. Taking 100% responsibility doesn’t mean blaming myself; it means that I have to push any excuses out of my head, and truly understand that I am the one responsible for where I am right now. This also means taking responsibility for my weight and state of health.

Yes, there are circumstances that complicate my efforts, but I can’t change those circumstances; I have to accept them as limiting factors, live with them, and understand them in order to get past them and work on the fundamental changes necessary to be successful in weight loss.

Getting rid of excuses is tantamount. Yes, there’s a history of obesity in my family. Yes, I have complicating medical issues, including hypothyroid and insulin resistance. Yes, I have crappy knees that prevent me from doing many forms of exercise.

But these are circumstances; there’s not much I can do to change them, which means I have to accept that they are part of the structure I must deal with, and manipulate, in order to succeed. None of these things mean I can’t lose weight; it just means I need to consider them when developing a plan. In other words, it’s not feasible for someone in my circumstances to go out and run a marathon; while it’s not impossible, it’s unlikely, and I’d be setting myself up for failure. I need to do things that are achievable and move me forward, despite circumstances.

I know of people who have done exactly that; they’ve purposely attempted something unreasonable, likely knowing and expecting to fail at it, so they can say “see? I tried!” I’ve done that in the past. These days, I work a lot on understanding exactly who I am and where I’m at in my abilities, so I can always be moving forward.

There’s only one person responsible for the quality of my life, and therefore, my ability to take command of my health and weight: me. Placing blame for my circumstances on my circumstances ignores what I’ve done to complicate my own path, and there’s been a lot. I’ve always had the power to change this; I’ve made decisions that have led to my weight fluctuations over time, and I have to acknowledge what I’ve done that created this, so I don’t recreate this again.

Canfield talks of the equation “E + R = O”, or “Event + Response = Outcome”.

Gaining weight is a series of events; whether it’s a situation that causes an emotional trigger or a health concern, the response to the event has to be a conscious commitment to make the right choice in response to the event. Bad day? Respond by finding a healthy outlet, rather than scarfing down a bag of Cheetos, for instance. Choosing the right response to an event produces an outcome that moves you closer to your goals, rather than further away. Being successful at weight loss — at anything, really — is a chain reaction of making the right choices.

This is something I struggle with. While I am not an emotional eater in the purest form, I do allow myself more latitude than I should, at times, and this is likely the reason why my weight loss is currently in this recovery stage. I get unreasonably disappointed with my efforts, and then I let myself slip. My own disappointment is the event; letting myself slip is the response; and the outcome is lack of weight loss.

I can’t change that I’m not a 20 year old man that can lose weight by cutting out one soft drink a day. (Ha!) No, the required effort is much greater, and I have to accept that. Every event I’ve experienced is a result of choices I’ve made in the past; the reason weight loss is so difficult for me, now, is because of bad choices I’ve made in the past, and that I can change that by responding differently.

For this next week, my challenge is to be more conscious of my choices instead of just falling into habit. I will be intentional about those choices, instead of just going with the flow. I tend to be lax in my efforts on weekends; it’s time to be careful about what decisions I make that could be hurting my efforts.