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.