Life’s Hard Lessons

There’s an old saying of “When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.” This is a great saying, but over the past 5 years, I have made so many pitches, gallons, and 50 gallon barrels of the stuff with every start and stop along the weight loss trek, that I have probably lost count. I think the worst part is that I have put it here on the world wide web for anyone to see my failures. I keep reaching, thinking that this time it’ll be different. But it’s not. It has yet to be. I think I may have finally figured out the (my) problem. It has all been in my mind set.

I keep going into every year like a cliff diver in competition in Mexico, ready to plunge head first into the depths without thinking about the consequences. I would go full tilt for the first three or so months and hit a plateau, or burn myself out, or hurt myself. The end result would always be the same: I’d quit. I would look at the progress that I had made and kiss it goodbye, inevitably reversing my progress and adding more to where I started.

I thought I was at my lowest point last year when I last took the dive, weighing in at 247 pounds (see my post here). I was wrong. Too much stress eating. Too much mindless, fog eating while at work or at hope. Couple that with no exercise and we have where I am today, I think that, for right now, I am going to keep the numbers to myself. Cowardly? Yes.

I am stepping into 2018 with a different way of thinking about this. I am not going to say that I am on a diet because that way of thinking has crapped out on me too many times. Instead, I am going in to 2018 making a lifestyle change. The four letter word does nothing for me other than making me angry…

What do I mean by a lifestyle change? I am going to focus on altering my eating habits, logging in everything I eat, and keeping my daily calorie count under 1600. I am going to focus on drinking more water, and stepping away from the sweet tea at the golden arches. I am going to start getting more active, slow and steady, building up as my body lets me.

What are my motivations this time? Why am I trying again? There are a few reasons. The first is I am tired of being tired all the time. Knowing I am unhealthy but not doing anything to change it is stupid. I am tired of being an embarrassment to my children (my feelings -they’ve never said anything to me about being embarrassed). Third is my son graduates college in May of this year with a degree in kinesiology, and I don’t want to be the fat mom there. I have a feeling there are so many more reasons on the horizon, I just do not want to wait any more.

How am I going to accomplish this? Wait, just how much is ‘this” that I am talking about? Let me answer the second question first. Overall, I want to lose 100 pounds, yes, I know it’s a lot. That is how much of the too much of me there is. Now, for the how? I have signed up for a weight loss app called Noom to help me get through this change. Add to that eating better, more water, and more exercise. And small goal chunks. My first goal chunk is to drop to 246.4, and I know this is doable. I am going to make an effort to hit the gym daily for at least an hour of cardio to rebuild some muscle, and start erasing some of the fat that I have accumulated.

My goal here is to try and document every other day, if not daily, how its going, how I am feeling, what are my struggles and accomplishments. I would say fingers crossed, but it’s not up to luck or chance this time. It’s up to ME.

A New Year, kinda

Here we are *toots a horn* five days into a brand spanking new year; aren’t you excited? I mean, with me at least, every “new year” is the same thing over and over: I resolve to be more active, have more fun, push out the walls of comfort and live a little, find my inner happiness, write, exercise, lose weight, etcetera. A few years ago, when I started blogging (before I quit for a year), I had reached a low point in my life. I was so disgusted with myself and the way my life was turning out, and how I was shaping up. I made a commitment to myself, and those who read my blog, to share my journey through diet and exercise hell, all in the hopes of liking myself. I had great success at first, going to the gym almost manically, losing something like 14 pounds ij the first month, but then I gave up on myself as my life took a tragic turn, and I started funneling all of the emotions into writing rather than keeping up with the much needed exercise.

I’ve watched myself turn back into the borderline morbidly obese woman that I had once tried so hard to beat, and I guess you could say that I have beat her… I am now bigger than I was back then; the scale and the measuring tape with say so. I made the decision the week before Christmas o try something new after the festivities of the new year were done. I saw an add on FB for a dance studio offering an introductory ballroom lesson for $49 and I jumped on it. Monday. January 2, was the next “new” start. I say this because I decided to take to heart the posts I kept seeing on FB saying that, on January 1, it was the start of a new 365 page story, write a good one. Well, I worked on New Years Day, so my new story started on January 2… I went to that dance lesson and I.Loved. It. I’m ready to go back again, have some more fun, awaken muscles that haven’t been used since the 1990’s! Yes, I was a sweaty mess, yes, I was clumsy, but I still left smiling.

But wait, there’s more (stop grumbling)! I also joined a new gym, one that is closer to where I live withe better, and much more, equipment than the last one had. Of course, when you join a gym, you get your “free consultation with a personal trainer,” and yep, I bit the bullet and bought a month of training, three times a week. Today was the first session with him, Sam. He might just fall into the category of Sadist, just like my original one was all those years ago.

I didn’t cry, not this morning, and not since then, at least not yet. We did the weight, body fat, and measurements today. It was bad; real bad. He was kind, telling me that he didn’t have to tell me the numbers, but if I’m going to give this another try, then I have to own the numbers. And, like last time, I will not hide anything from myself in tis blog. I’ll share the fun, the tears, the failures, the successes,  the gains, and the losses. I will say that I HOPE to #giveit100 – we will see together, so far I’m completed 3 days.

Here is the ugly truth: Weight -247.2  Body fat- 40 Neck -17 1/2 inches Waist-46 inches Hips- 50 inches

As I said, I’ve not cried. Yet.

 

 

Green

I swear I go through moods, and ideas, and themes, like a toddler in a candy store. I am back in the “I don’t really like myself as I am” phase, so I am trying something that a nurse recommended to try. “What is it?” you ask. Well, let me tell you, this is a blended to liquid mixture of about 3 cups raw spinach, 3 pineapple chunks, and 1 banana. It’s, honestly, not terrible, but the texture is odd. You cannot taste the greens, but if you decide to try this, be warned about the texture. (The nurse did warn me that the would go “right through me” so I am sticking close to home. Depending on how I do with this, I may try to incorporate it into my daily routine as a meal; see if it helps me lose some of myself.

IMG_1449

Mirror, Mirror

Over the course of this blog, it has morphed from this, to that, to something in outer space, and back to Earth as something else all together. Wow, I’ve either covered a lot of ground, or I have a lot to say, or I just share whatever is rolling around in my mind…I guess that third option pretty well covers it. Now it seems Im going to write about what I started with so very long (almost 2 years?!?) ago.

Back in July 2013 I stepped on the scale and crumbled inside myself at the number. It was an eye opener, that’s for sure (you can read it here). I made the decision then and there to improve myself, eat healthier, get exercise, become fit versus the fat. I went to a local gym, joined immediately, and signed up for twice weekly sessions with a trainer, who I went on to refer to as Sadist in follow up posts.I was focused, dedicated, and happily workingman ass off and stress out of my system. Then the inevitable happened…

I burned out. I went too hard, too fast, and my mind, my focus, blipped out. When I worked out it was, admittedly half assed. I gave up on myself. The shame and embarrassment were back, stronger than ever. I tried to like myself, pretending that I did, but looking in the mirror grew more and more difficult.

Life and death happened. Books closed and new books with fresh pages opened for me to write the new part of my life on…and I have written. I can spin tales, smiling while I do, making everyone believe the lies are truth. Everyone, that is, except for me.

FullSizeRender

I hate the mirror. When I do look at it, I hate what I see when my eyes travel lower than my face because that is when I see the truth. What I see and how I react to it? They’re neither one healthy. No, there’s no self harming. But the constant, persistent voice inside my head is back, like an achy tooth. It nags at me, when I look in the mirror.

I’m back to square one, with a lot more weight than I had twenty-two months ago. I need to get back. I need to move. I need to focus. I need to succeed.

I have to start.

No Photographs, Please!

Wow. There’s nothing like a new low. I live with it every day, facing it and actively ignoring it. that is until a pivotal moment that gobsmacked me. Going about my day-to-day existence knowing in the back of my head what’s coming. Today was that clarifying, or re-clarifying, moment.

I spent a week sitting on my butt in a hotel learning about writing, what I need to do to create the best manuscript I can, how to query and pitch it, and to never stop learning. Meeting some truly fabulous people in the industry from publishers, agents, editors, authors, and cover models. And I was going to set about snapping my picture throughout the events. That was until I looked at myself in the pictures.

I’m back to being the woman I once was, insecure, unhappy, and way too heavy. Time to figure out a new way to fix and find myself. I have absolutely no idea what the current number on the scale says; don’t really care right now, to be honest. It’s too much, by a lot… 70 pounds minimum, could even be close to topping out at 100 pounds of too damn much.

Eff me. How, or rather why do I do this to myself? I’m an embarrassment to myself, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my kids were not embarrassed by me as well. What a way to represent.

So, I need to drop as much weight as humanly possible before next Memorial Day, in time for my daughters graduation. Here I go again…