50 and FABULOUS!

In two weeks, I will enjoy my 42nd birthday with some wonderful friends and family. 

So what's with the 50 in the title?  Well....that's for my total weight loss thus far!! Yes, yes, 50 lbs! I have lost a small child, or a mid-sized dog! I feel it everywhere, and I feel fabulous!

I went out a few weeks ago and bought myself some new clothes, and for the first time in at least a decade, I did not choose styles that hang and drape. I bought fitted jeans, tank tops, a flirty sundress (yes, flirty!), and checked myself out from all angles, not minding what I saw. I'm FAR from what most people would define as "thin"; by all accounts, my internet profiles still inform people that I'm "big and beautiful". However, I feel more "beautiful" than "big", which certainly counts for something!

The best part about the weight loss, though, is not the clothes, or having people tell me how great I'm looking. The BEST part is that I can bend over and touch the floor without my gut getting in the way. I can run up the stairs and not be out of breath. I can look at my fitbit and not be surprised when I'm at the top of my friends' list (I'm averaging about 12000 steps/day!). I can look in my fridge and see healthy, fresh food, and know that I will make healthy, good choices throughout the day.

I still crave sweets, and chips, and pizza, and...and...and... but I don't (very often) indulge in those temptations. When I choose to have some calorie-laden deliciousness, I savor every single bite. I devour it slowly and with purpose. No more furtive, hidden binges for this fatty, oh no! I own it, I enjoy it, and fuck anyone who doesn't like it!  

I might be losing weight, but I'm gaining so much more. I'm gaining myself back. 

The 6 Month Mark

So, this blogging thing is clearly not going very well...I haven't managed a post in almost 6 months....

Oh well, at least it's still here, so I have an opportunity whenever I feel like reflecting on the past few weeks/months/years...

I have now lost 32.6 lbs in just under 6 months, which everyone tells me is amazing. Not newsworthy, but pretty damn great. I feel good. Most days I feel in control, and am enjoying the new experiences with food that present themselves with increasing regularity.  My old clothes are starting to fit again, and I'm beginning to notice the difference when I look in the mirror.

I'm still going to my meetings every week, and while the "information" remains the same as the last 15 times I joined WW, I find strength and comfort in listening to other people sharing their stories and challenges. It's always great to realize that you are not alone in your struggles, and the people in my group run the gamut from young girls to old(er) women and men.  Every one of those members understands what it is like to live in a skinny world with a fat body, and they give me encouragement and understanding, which can be the difference between sticking it out for another week or giving in to the temptations associated with holidays, get-togethers, late night work sessions...basically any excuse to stuff my face with whatever junk is on hand.

I've developed a fairly decent relationship with my fridge and stove. I'm trying to cook dinners on a regular basis (although I'm definitely not ready for the fancy recipes advertised all over the internet. Chicken, rice, veggies, and a salad is as sophisticated as it gets, but that's okay), and actually look forward to my fruit smoothie breakfasts and "low-point" snacks.

While I feel pretty successful, I find myself still crazy tempted for my "blacklist" foods: I miss chocolate like CRAZY, and I could seriously cry when I smell any kind of baking.  My leader keeps telling me that it's okay to indulge here and there, but I really can't handle it. I just can't say, "oh, one cookie is good enough", or "I can stop after just one piece of chocolate". I don't have the willpower, so it's easier to just avoid the sweets altogether.  My house has been officially "junk free" for at least 4 months; avoiding the temptations allows me not to worry (aka obsess) about all of the wonderful treats that could be lurking around every corner.  I mean, who would tell an alcoholic that just one beer or martini is "okay"? I can't say I'll never eat a cookie again, but I'm certainly not going to torture myself by having a bag of them waiting for me and calling my name from the kitchen cupboard either.

The Woes of Womanhood on Weigh-in Day

So my weigh in day did not go as expected (or hoped).  I lost weight, which made me fairly happy, but it was a very small, almost infinitesimal loss.  I brooded for at least 20 minutes, inwardly railed at the unfairness of life, and actually contemplated quitting.  Then I mentally smacked myself and reminded myself that eating healthy and exercising regularly are victories in themselves, the number on the scale is secondary.  While it was disappointing, I still made my way to the grocery store and loaded up on fruits and vegetables and healthy snacks, knowing that these positive choices would make me feel better both in mind and body.

*warning* sensitive feminine issues ahead...

Then I got home and discovered why I did not see a bigger loss this week. The dreaded period.  Ugh. Typically I can expect to gain 3-5 pounds in the three days before and first 2 days of my period. Is it not enough that I suffer excessive anxiety, horrific cramps, fatigue, cold sores, irritability, etc etc etc? Oh no, add weight gain into the mix! I'm past the point of child-bearing and am entering into the fertility phase I like to call "waiting for freedom".  Usually I can tell when my "monthly friend" (who coined this evil phrase? There is nothing friendly about it!) is about to arrive, but with all of the changes going on in my life right now it totally slipped my mind.

On the plus side, I managed to still lose weight despite all the water retention, and I can hopefully expect a bigger loss next week.  On the minus side...well, I have to deal with life for the next 6 days until I feel human again.

Oh well, onward and downward!!

Dance like there is no one watching...

I love my girlfriends.  They are women from all walks of life, in every stage of family and personal development, and when we get together, sometimes magical things happen.  With these women I am able to shed my insecurities and self-consciousness and just let the good times roll.

Last night some of my best friends came over just to "hang-out". Over a few cocktails and some hilarious YouTube videos, we were inspired to choose a song from every letter of the alphabet and attempt to dance like the people in the videos.  I don't think I've laughed so hard or sweat so much in at least the last year.  Some of my particular favorites included House of Pain's "Jump Around", Maroon 5 "Moves Like Jagger" and Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls".

We danced for 3 solid hours, right there in my living room. I seriously doubt we looked anything like the dancers in the videos but we sure as hell had some fun in the attempt.  The best part for me was being able to truly let go, release my inner dance machine without strangers looking on with pursed lips and shaking heads, wondering why the fat chick thinks she can bust a move.  My girlfriends were right there with me, doing their own impressions of Freddy Mercury and Jennifer Lopez, looking just as hilarious as I most certainly did.

The next morning we were all posting facebook updates about how stiff and sore we were, how old we felt, and how smelly my living room became over the course of the night, yet every one of us began our posts with "had such an amazing, fun night last night".  Here's to my peeps, we may be old but we certainly still know how to rock the house!

Make myself dinner, you say?

A couple of nights ago, I brought dinner over to my sister's house.  Meaning, I brought a quickly thrown-together macaroni salad and uncooked steaks.  My brother in law seasoned and barbecued them, knowing what an idiot I am around any form of appliance that prepares food.  When we finished eating, there was a LOT of steak left over.  I initially told them to keep it but then he insisted I take at least one home.  He said, "just cut it up really small and throw some stuff together to make an omelette or something."

I have never made an omelette. I've made scrambled eggs and boiled eggs, but flipping things without breaking them has never been my forte (I wish I had a pic of my butchered pancakes for evidence), and I figured I'd just end up either making a sandwich out of it or leave it in the fridge long enough for things to start growing on it and chucking it out.

Well, tonight I did the unthinkable. I made an omelette!  It was a thing of beauty (only a tiny bit broken...), and I got really creative and along with the (very thinly sliced) steak put green onion, red pepper, and low fat cheese in it for flavor. I also seasoned it with some mild salsa, and it was super tasty!  I ate every scrap and didn't even feel guilty for not sharing with my dog (she's on a diet, too).

While I feel a bit silly for being so proud of myself over such a small thing, I'm owning the pride.  I prepared a healthy and delicious meal without catastrophe!

You're a Hard Habit to Break

Habits are hard to break....
Most experts say it takes 21 days to break a habit.  That seems like such a short time to rid yourself of a behavior you've been practicing for years.  I've tried umpteen times to quit smoking, for example, and have actually crossed the 21 day threshold a couple of times, but inevitably I slink back to the disgusting things after (or during) a night of drinking and debauchery.

This week I've decided to tackle the habit of kitchen-stalking. I didn't even really notice what I was doing until yesterday, but every hour or so I feel this compulsion to wander through the kitchen.  Often I open the fridge door and scope out its contents (although since I live alone I don't know why I think anything new will just appear out of thin air).  Yesterday I must have done the "circuit" through my kitchen at least 6 times.

When I'm actually physically hungry, I don't "stalk" my kitchen.  I am able to very quickly make a choice, put something together, and enjoy relatively simple meals.  The wandering comes when I'm not even hungry but rather bored and edgy.  I don't know what I need, I just know I need something. These unplanned forays into the danger zone usually result in ice cream, granola, cookies, chips...you name the evil food, I've consumed it.

So this week, I've committed to being mindful about where I am, where I'm going, and what is motivating me.  I've already caught myself wandering toward the kitchen 3 times between meals today, and forced myself to turn around.  It's like the feeling you get when you inadvertently on purpose check your ex's facebook page to see what he/she is up to. You know you shouldn't, you know it's not positive behavior but for some reason you just can't help yourself....until that one time when you shake your head and think, "what am I really doing here? What am I getting out of this?"

That's the time to call a friend, go for a walk, read a book, enjoy the sunshine...redefine what "needing something" means.

The last first time

Having never blogged before, I anticipate a messy beginning, but I'm hoping to make it work!

Today is it. The hundredth first day of the thousandth time I got on the scale, sat in on a meeting, listened to very logical (and common sense) motivational messages about how to be successful.  I'm determined to make it my last first day.  First days suck; shock and awe in the first five minutes, fear and anxiety for the next ten, and then realizing that months and years stretch ahead out into the great unknown.

For the first time in 20 years, since my very first WW meeting, I cried when I stepped on the scale.  How did I let this happen?  How did I allow myself to reach a whopping 250lbs????  Why did it take so long to realize that I was slowly digging myself a hole where the eventual destination is diabetes, heart disease, and ultimately premature death?

I was inspired (or shamed, to be honest) to go back to WW after I saw pictures of myself at a recent family picnic.  I wanted to rip them to shreds but alas, they are on Facebook for all eternity (and for all my 180 online friends to see).  It's easy to avoid looking at full-length mirrors, and fairly easy to hide behind other people when I know a picture is being taken. It's much harder when the photographer covertly snaps that camera when you aren't looking...at least 20 times, from multiple angles.

Here it is, folks. Brace yourselves...

(really, who does that? who takes a picture of a fatty from behind??? *sigh*, yes, it was my mother, bless her heart)

My inspiration was further enhanced when a dear friend of mine gave me a fitbit a few weeks ago.  Once I figured out how the thing worked (technology and I are friendly acquaintances who meet only occasionally for coffee), I began to pay more attention to how much activity I manage to fit into my life.  I was pleasantly surprised to discover I was averaging around 5500 steps a day; unfortunately the "pleasant" part did not last once I found out they recommend DOUBLE that number...

So, I stepped on the scale, cried, and then took myself off to the grocery store. A hundred dollars later, I have a full fridge and a (somewhat) clear plan of what I will be eating for the next 5-7 days.  I also made a commitment to myself to reach that goal of 10,000 as many days as Mother Nature will allow (I refuse to walk in thunderstorms. Mild rain, ok, but thunder and lightning is asking waaaay too much).

I was very scared and emotionally wrought when I left the house this morning.  I am happy to say that I made great choices throughout the day, and I kicked 10,000's ass! Every journey begins with a single step, or in my case, 10,156 of them.