Monday, June 30, 2008

Exercise, bringing family together.

Yesterday I decided to go for a walk out at my brother's house (formerly known as my grandparent's house). It's in the country and only about 2.5 miles from my house. From the end of their driveway to the end of the street it is exactly one mile. I asked my oldest nephew, who is 7, if he would like to walk with me. He did. There aren't many cars out there at that time, but I told him to stay on the edge of the road and we walked. We walked, and we learned.

He learned that pedestrians walk against traffic and bicyclists ride with traffic. I learned that my shin splints act up at around the quarter mile mark. He learned that cars are supposed to give us plenty of room when we walk, even if that means swerving into the other lane. I learned that at a half mile, I have to turn around and go back or my legs might never get me home. It was at this point, after continuously drifting to the middle of the road, that I felt compelled to teach him another valuable lesson.

I asked him if he remembered the little purple cross at the opposite end of the street. He said he did. I proceeded to tell him that the little girl of the lady that used to babysit him was hit by a car down there and killed. That she was riding her bike with her family and that someone wasn't paying attention and hit her. He looked up at me and I explained that even though cars are supposed to watch out for people walking, that sometimes they aren't paying attention. That it's our job to watch out for them and to make sure we are walking where we're supposed to be walking. As we turned around to head back, he pointed out that I was on the wrong side of the street. Lesson learned.

Tonight I went out there to walk again. I didn't go in the house and get my nephew. I didn't know walking with me meant so much and I brought Lola to work with her on the leash and thought he might be too distracting for her. I had to turn around at the half mile mark again and when I had about a quarter of a mile left to go, my sister-in-law pulled up and my nephew jumped out. He wanted to walk the rest of the way with me. After a while I handed him Lola's leash and told him to hold on tight. He walked on the edge of the road and we talked. Once we were almost there I let him run with Lola (Lord knows I can't) and I met him in the front yard. As I went to leave he asked me when we could walk again. I told him I'd be back tomorrow. So now, if I don't go walk, I'm not just letting myself down, I'm letting my nephew down.

My nephew is rail thin and by no means in NEED of additional exercise, but it left me wondering...where would I be if one of the relatives that I looked up to would have let me walk with them? Would have gotten me to exercise without making it clear that I was fat and needed to lose weight. Where would I be if, when I was 7, someone said, "Hey Kel, I'm going for a walk. Would you like to come with me?" Instead of "Go run up and down the stairs, you're fat and you need to lose weight." What if someone would have cared more about how I felt than how I looked? What if...

As promised, I did weigh in this morning. I lost 5 pounds this week. Total of 16.5.

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Do they make waders in my size?

I'm chugging water as if my water bottle were fashioned from a rubber tube and a funnel. I hear hundreds of college students yelling "Chug! Chug! Chug!" as I down it as fast as possible. It's not to score the admiration of a twenty something jock, though, it's to offset the MSG and whatever other ancient Chinese secrets I subjected myself to at dinner last night...and, well, lunch today. Our favorite local Chinese joint would have to close it's doors my first week back on track. What was I supposed to do? They've got the best crab puffs EVER! I had to say goodbye. Wait while I chug...

Don't get me wrong. I didn't just tear into the brightly colored take out containers and eat whatever was put in front of me. I looked everything up beforehand and ordered what seemed to be a more realistic meal. I got Beef with Broccoli and the ever so delicious Crab Puffs and tracked every last point. When it came time to eat the fortune cookie, it was stale (lucky Lola). What was funny is that mine said "Eat your vegetables. They are good for your health." Giggle. It's not the choices I made at dinner that stress me out right now, it's the water retention Chinese food brings that has me worried. Must...fill...water...bottle.

Enter today stage right. I'M SO HUNGRY! All week I don't think I've felt one real hunger pang and today I'm hungry the second I get done eating (reason number two for currently chugging water). It makes me feel anxious. Like I'm going to lose control. I know I won't. I know that even if I did find comfort in the refrigerator that it's OK. I know that tomorrow is another day and that each day, each meal, is a fresh start, but it's too soon. The rest of the week was too easy. Tomorrow is weigh in day. I have to fight it. I have to be strong. I have to pee.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Make room for my big badonkadonk

cuz I'm here to stay!

I took new "before" pictures yesterday. I originally intended to at least do my hair and makeup for them to alleviate some of the trauma, but I'm sick and I really didn't feel like it. Besides, you can put lipstick on a pig and call her Sally, but...oh, nevermind. So, after my shower I pulled my short hair back into a tragic little ponytail and put on clothes that are tight enough to show all my fat rolls without the threat of blindness that being naked would provide. I set up my tripod and my new fancy Nikon D60 camera and proceeded to break off a few timer shots. To be honest, I expected my camera to sprout little arms to unscrew itself from the tripod and wee little legs to walk itself over to the window and throw itself spiraling to the ground. I now have shots from various frightening angles over on the sidebar slideshow that are to eventually prove me to be the incredible shrinking woman.

(waiting while you look, cringe, and nod agreeably with my spot on evaluation. Tolja so!)

Are we all clear on why I'm here now? Good, because I need unanimous and unequivocal understanding of the obstacle before me. Have you read all the entries and taken note of how many times I've recommitted, said I was back, talked about how badly I need to beat the beast that is my weight? Have you noticed all the things I had hoped to do and goals I wanted to meet? Rewards I intended to give myself? Have I been to Italy? No. Tahiti? No. Been on Oprah? No. Have I gotten off diabetes medication, gotten under 300 even once, or made jaws drop with how fierce I am? No.

Am I a quitter? No. I'm still here aren't I? Am I a failure? No. I may be taking my sweet time, but I'm only a failure if I stop trying. I took those pictures and when I looked at them, though hard to see, I didn't cry. I didn't binge. I didn't sit and stare at them as if I had no idea I was that big. I looked, cringed slightly, posted them, and said, "OK, so now we change it." Will I lose the 200 pounds I mentioned when I started this? Maybe not, and that's fine with me. Will I get under 300? You bet your sweet ass I will. Under 200? Who knows. For now we are no longer focusing on anything that far in the future. Right now we are focusing on things more attainable...things like seeing 299 on the scale again. Right now we're focused on today. Anything beyond this weekend is more than I care to think about. No one knows what tomorrow holds.

I'm 5 days into my reattempt at this home improvement project and you might as well bring me another board cuz THIS nailed! 100% on track and no inkling of deviation. I can't even say that the reason it's been easy is because I'm sick and haven't had an appetite. Since when has not having an appetite stopped THIS girl from eating? Exactly! I'm just not thinking about food. I'm eating, don't get me wrong. I'm just not consumed by it. I'm not watching the clock and counting down to when I can justify eating again. I'm not making my food choices wishing it were something better. I'm just giving my body nourishment and then going about my day. You know, like skinny people do. I'm not depriving myself and I'm not going overboard. I've had points left most nights and sometimes I had a bowl of ice cream and sometimes I just had a diet ice cream bar instead. Tonight we were going to have pizza. Fine. I got the Papa Murphy's Delite pizza for me. I counted all my points. I'm fine.

Thank you for the praise, for the pats on the back, and for the words of encouragement. You'll be hearing from me often.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Hi. Remember me?

I'm that girl that used to have her eye on the weight loss prize. The girl that always seemed to have the end goal in mind even if she did slip off track on occasion. The girl that would go on and on about how she got off track and the reasons behind it and how she wants to change and undo whatever damage she did to whatever progress she had made. She'd sit here eagerly typing away with a renewed sense of self, an uplifted spirit, and the fire of recommitment burning to her very core. She would probably have just spent countless hours planning her attack, marking her calendar with the days she would be working out and her routines, setting up check points and deadlines for what she should weigh and when. She would have had positivity coursing through her veins. She would have had hope. She would have had good intentions. She would have felt fierce.

Today, however, I sit here, today I write this entry, defeated. I won't make excuses. I won't blame the cards I've been dealt recently or my schedule. I won't blame my living arrangement or saboteurs. I will blame me. I'm responsible for my bad food choices through times of crisis and times of hardship. I'm responsible for my lack of motivation and lack of commitment to me. I'm responsible for my complete disregard for my health, for my life, for my happiness. I'm responsible for me.

I'm responsible for swallowing my pride, venturing back here to those that might still be reading this. I'm responsible for at least trying, again, to beat this demon. I am responsible for the exercise I got yesterday and the few days before that. I'm responsible for the ice cream I didn't eat last night and the new shoes I bought so that I can go to the gym. I'm responsible for me.

I've learned a lot while I've been away: losing your job is less stressful than being in a job that makes you miserable; losing your grandmother to Alzheimer's is less painful than watching her live with it; if you're not sure who your real friends are, find yourself in a time of crisis and everything becomes clear; you can not only go back to school after fourteen years, but you can get straight A's; finding yourself is far more important than finding a man; and regardless of how often people tell you that you need to lose weight, they sure as heck aren't going to help you do it.

So, I'm back??? It may not be with the fierceness of my previous attempts. It may not be chalk full of positivity and hope, but I'm back.