I'm hittin' the beach!

Not one of sand and sun or fun and frolic. No, this is a beach where for two weeks you say goodbye to all carbs, all sugar, all fruit, all alcohol, and all baked goods and then slowly reintroduce fruit and "good" carbs. It sounds about as fun as an ancient Chinese torture chamber but I'm doing it anyway. Yes, damn it, I'm a sheep. I am following the crowd and starting The South Beach Diet!

Tomorrow is the big day THUS I have been eating so much fruit and yogurt and bread the last few days to get it out of my house that I think I just might puke. I've probably gained a good 5 pounds this week saying goodbye to all my old friends (i.e. Starbucks, Taco Bell, Subway, Ben & his ever fabulous cohort Jerry) but never fear because if South Beach works for me the way it has for my mom and dad not only will I shed a lot of weight the next two weeks on Phase 1 but it will mostly come off my ever present gut.

My skinny readers who've only dieted when they wanted to lose 5 pounds for bikini season are probably thinking "For Christ sake, what's the big deal? This girl talks about remotivating herself every other week. Just lose the weight already and shut up." To that I ever so politely reply "F%&@ off, please, because you have no clue what it's like and have a nice day." To those that have been MORBIDLY OBESE (such a lovely term) for the majority of their lives can I get an "AMEN!" please? You all know my plight and have trudged this same path more times than you can probably count. You know that after a while it gets all kinds of boring and you start to give up as you're burdened by the realization that hell just might freeze over before you lose all the weight you're shooting for. It starts to become all you can do to maintain the weight you've lost let alone not gain it all back. I've determined that it's this pivotal point that you need to reaffirm what it is you're trying to do. It's this point, before you've completely sabotaged your efforts, that you need to dig deep and do whatever necessary to get back on the path to your goal. Realize it NOW, before you gain it all back, hate yourself, and have to work up the courage to try it yet again.

So for me it's as simple as this...I have a hell of a long way to go having only lost somewhere around 27 pounds thus far. Operation drop 200 needs some revamping if I'm going to keep it up because to be quite honest, if I count one more damn weight watching point right now I may claw my own eyes out. I will come back to that of the WW but I need a break right now. I need to mix it up and I need a couple of very successful weeks to get me going strong again and I'm hoping these Phase 1 weeks will be those weeks. SO, I'm not going to my Weight Watchers meetings anymore and I'm back on my own. I'll let you know how it goes. Surf's up, ya'll!

Walk a mile in my shoes...

and you will understand why losing this weight isn't something I can fail at this time. This isn't an optional undertaking. It's not a whim. It's not something I just decided to "try out for a while". It's a last chance, a mission, a lifestyle change. This is my LIFE we are talking about.

My life, that I haven't even LIVED yet. I've been taking a backseat for 28 years. I've been continuously embarrassed just for being who I am. I've been insecure, self-conscious and paranoid that people are always judging me not by the person I am but for the person I appear to be. I hate that there are people that are actually disgusted by me just because of my size and who wouldn't even consider getting to know me just because I weigh too much.

I'm tired all the time and I rarely have any noticeable energy. Though my knees have gotten better since I boycotted high heels they are nothing that a 28 year old should have to deal with. I'm out of breath after one flight of stairs and on the verge of a panic attack going into a restaurant until I know for sure I fit in the booth. I ache to shop at all the trendy clothing stores all my friends shop at but don't even dare to set foot in one knowing it'll only cause more embarrassment.

I want to shop where ever I want. I want to walk out of the house thinking I look cute not just hoping I look a little less fat than usual. I am consumed by my weight and will always be. If it's not by how big and uncomfortable I am it's about what I did or did not do right that day to get me to my goal. And lately, I'm doing very little right which only adds more stress which only makes me do worse which only makes me eat more which only makes me hate myself more which only makes me eat more and...I think you get the point.

So, yet again, it's all or nothing. Do or die...literally. Pre-diabetes did little or nothing to change my ways. It would motivate most people but me, no, it just pissed me off and made me want to crawl in a hole. It made me retaliate by eating what I wanted and deny that it could possibly have happened to me. Well, that's childish and does nothing but write a one way ticket to diabetes. So, it's time to take care of myself not just because I want to wear cute clothes but because I want to live.

I just got a bonus at work and most of it will go towards all the healthy food I need. I'm considering not going to weight watchers meetings anymore to save the money and free up more time, but I know deep down that I need the meetings. However, I need the 48 bucks a month to be able to eat healthy food. So, with a meeting tomorrow night I suppose tonight will be spent making that decision. Meetings or no meetings no one can do this but me and since I'm not successful unless I'm 100% consumed I guess it's time to be obsessive again.

Devil with a green dress

They come to your workplace, they stand post outside your local grocery store, they even stand outside some video stores. Before you know it they'll be outside your gym, taunting you through the window while you crank up the incline on that treadmill. You know who I mean. It's those frickin Girl Scouts and their dagblasted cookies. They're everywhere!

In the event you should triumphantly manage to ward off eye contact with the little crumb snatchers on the way INTO the store you can almost guarantee that they will tag-team you on the way out. You'll flash back to your tortured youth when you too had to sport the badge laden sash and schlep cookies around the neighborhood. You'll sympathize with their plight and just as you pull out your wallet and start to order 5 boxes from the little darlings you see your reflection in the window and start to sweat. You see the Samoas going straight to your butt, the Tagalongs to your thighs and the thin mints...please, that's an oxymoron if ever I did hear one. You clutch your wallet in your arm like a runningback at the Superbowl. Fake left, fake right, you stiff arm the little vixens and RUNNNNNNNNNN!

I can't say I was as successful this year in warding off the aforementioned rosy cheeked saboteurs. A month or more ago the granddaughter of the president of my company came in with puppy dog eyes ablazin'. No pressure there. I was fully out of the zone and 4 boxes later here I sit dreading the day they arrive at the office. Yesterday someone at the office who clearly hadn't mastered their stiff arm technique had all their cookies spread out in the kitchen. I walked in and with clenched fists in the air I screamed "Noooooo!" I took two, tracked my points, and ate them. Evil.

I've decided that when my 4 boxes get here I will immediately put them in the freezer where they will stay for another month before I even let myself have one. Then, if I've been doing well on my diet and if the points allow it, I will treat myself to a COUPLE. Not a box, not an entire roll of thin mints but a COUPLE of cookies.

In the words of Emeril...

it's time to kick it up a notch. I've been slacking...there's no denying it. This 2 pound teeter totter is by no means due to a plateau, no, it's all me. I haven't been keeping track of my points. I haven't been exercising. I haven't been eating healthy. I haven't been...in the zone! Taco Bell and I have become friends again and after re-reading all my blog entries I'm ready to call this self-destructive relationship off. We must go our separate ways...there's no other choice I'm afraid. It's not you, it's me...I just have no self-control. Let Valentine's Day mark the beginning of my renewed devotion to, well, ME!

The bad news? I'm broke, the food in the house is minimal, and I don't get paid for another 4 days. The good news? Well, there is no good news but I'm going to give it a shot anyway. No more screwin’ around people! The vacation is over! Other people have jumped on the Kelly bus and are losing weight too. I can't let them pass me up because I'm a big ol' slacker. There will BE none of that. I've taken a new position at work and once it takes effect I'll get to move around much more instead of sitting at a desk all day. Lola is close to being allowed to go on walks with me. The gym has been calling my name lately and by God I'm going to start answering. I'm going to go in there and bust ass and make them impressed by what this big girl can do. "You go girl's" will be running rampant in that joint.

I miss the days of getting on the scale KNOWING I was going to lose. Now it's a hoping and praying kind of thing because I know I haven't been doing well. Any loss is an act of God not hard work on my part. So, tonight I will go to Weight Watchers, take whatever the scale gives me and know that next week it WILL be down significantly because I WILL have put in the work. Zone or no zone...I will do this. I don't have a choice. I'm tired of being disappointed in myself. A few months ago I was constantly amazed and impressed by the choices I was making and the rewards it gave me. Why does what was so easy for me then seem so hard (again) for me now?

I need a game plan...a plan of attack.

1. Exercise, exercise, exercise!

2. If going certain places makes it easy for me to eat badly, don't go there that often. And if I am going there, eat before I go.

3. Gain an undeniable understanding that whatever food I am about to cave on is going to be there another day. Taco Bell isn't closing it's borders, Ben & Jerry are not refusing to milk another cow and Flying Pie Pizza will be hand-tossing their dough for years to come. By opting to make a good decision and not eat something I'm confronted with one day does not mean I will never get it again. If anything, it'll promise me more years down the road to enjoy those things once in a while. I'll feel much better about myself after turning it down then I will after I eat it and hate myself for giving in.

4. Drink water, drink water, drink water.

4 simple ways to succeed. There are many more things I can do but I think sticking to those 4 things will have me well on my way. So, count today as my last hoorah and tomorrow...I'm back to being a BIG LOSER!!!

I did say I would exercise more after the New Year

Can't quite get yourself to the gym? Feeling unmotivated or just a little too tired? Do you find yourself opening the fridge every 10 minutes just because you're bored? Have you tried and tried again to squeeze in time for exercise? Well, when all else fails...get a puppy.


Introducing Lola, my 7 week old Boston Terrier...scratch that...my 4 legged personal trainer. For abs she sacrifices her self-dignity to have me laughing so hard it's got to be the equivalent of 500 sit ups. For cardio she pretends she doesn't know she's supposed to relieve herself in the great outdoors and makes me bolt over to her to then get some squats in while I grab her and race outside which, as I'm sure she well knows, also involves step aerobics. I've never been one for waking up early (let alone getting up to exercise) and she not only has me out of bed to start my day at 5:00 am, but we also get up around 1:00 and 3:00 as well. She's so dedicated. For weight training I carry her around in her pet crate virtually every where I go and we often play a mean game of tug-o-war. As for snacking, I barely have time to eat the 3 squares let alone any snacking. I used to eat a snack at 10:00 am and 3:00 pm at work but since she accompanies me to work there will be none of that because she has me run her outside every chance I get. I do get in a quick meal at lunch though and my dinners are usually pretty small since I start cooking and while I'm chasing after her half my food either burns or, for instance, the steak is done and I haven't even started the rice or broccoli. So, I just eat the steak and call it good. I get the feeling that this is all to get me warmed up for when she's a fully certified trainer (has all her shots) and has me outside footin’ it around the neighborhood.

So, in a way, I have kept my New Year's resolution to exercise more. No, it's not the gym and I know I'm not walking like I should, but for all intents and purposes chasing around a puppy IS more movement than I normally involve myself in. I do intend to walk her quite a bit but she can't go yet, vet's orders. I'm sure I'll find my way back to the gym again but for right now, I'm not ready. I know how crowded it will be with all the New Year's resolution makers and I'm not ready to go fight with a rock hard Barbie lookin princess over a treadmill because, honey, I will snap her like a twig. Anytime my arm is as big as someone's waist there is some built up resentment there and I might unleash it upon them if pushed ever so slightly to the edge. I feel it is in society's best interest if I just wait it out. I'm sure it'll be down to the die-hards anytime now at which time the equipment will be free'd up and I will again have to find another excuse...I mean, and I will be rarin' to go and ready to sweat. Until then, Lola will do just fine.

Bah FRICKIN humbug

It has come to my attention that when I triumphed over Thanksgiving and I challenged Christmas to a duel that I may have overstepped my bounds. I think I made Christmas angry because it came with such a determination to destroy my progress that I'm still left awe struck. Christmas is no joke, ya'll, and should not be toyed with.

Let's first address the week of Christmas shall we? Clearly our clients have had a VERY prosperous year because I have never seen so many attempts at ass kissing in all my days. It might be a slight exaggeration to suggest that chocolates, cookies, caramel corn, gift baskets, meat & cheese platters, nuts, and other goodies came in by the TRUCKLOAD but that's sure as hell how it seemed. That entire week I maintained a "Who cares? It's Christmas!" attitude and boy am I paying for it now. I didn't even get on the scale that Friday because I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it would be an ugly UGLY thing. At the Christmas Eve festivities I didn't do too badly but, then again, I WAS stuffed from all the Taco Bell I had eaten for lunch. I ate so much of my mom's Parmesan Cheeseball on Christmas morning that I'm beginning to wonder if anyone else got any. Oh well, at least I was again too full for the Christmas Feast that followed.

Which brings me to New Year's week. I was on vacation. I had told myself when I started losing weight that if I could do well until my vacation I could treat myself to a lot of the things I hadn't had in so long. Well, treat myself I did. Pizza, chocolate, ice cream (though not my Ben & Jerry's), lots and lots of cake, Burger King, Taco Bell...it was madness. When I got on the scale last Friday it was time to be accountable for the last two weeks. I gained 5 pounds. FIVE!! But wait, there's more. Over the last 3 days I have gained, according to my not so friendly scale, 6 more. Now, there is some serious water retention goin on but 11 pounds in 2 weeks is just crazy talk. I'm going to have to kick some serious tail to make up for that.

So, what's my plan of attack you might be wondering? It's free to join Weight Watchers meetings right now so I braved the bitter cold weather and the biting wind last night and I made the trek over to my former meeting locale. It was the same leader that I had last time so there was some familiarity there. There was also a lady named Jane who used to help at my old Tuesday night meetings. She was there last night to help weigh in the mass of New Year's Resolution makers. She totally recognized me and made me feel ridiculously welcome. That's a lady who has lost 125 pounds on program and has maintained it for about 3 years. When I made the comment that I was "back again" she said, "Hey, that's ok, I rejoined many times before I finally did it." I didn't feel like such a Weight Watchers flunkie after she said that and I see in her my potential to really succeed on this program.

So, here I sit 4 days into the New Year and I refuse to quit. Just because I backtracked quite a bit doesn't mean I've lost the battle. Hey, what better time to get your first gain out of the way then Christmas? Now I've got extra ammo because I have meetings to weigh in at every week and someone that will be seeing whether or not I'm staying on track. When someone asks me how much weight I've lost AND when I report it here I'm still going to go by morning weigh in's because I refuse to report what me AND my clothes weigh (that's a whole nother level of scary). I might be feeling a little less fierce than usual but I'll get it back, don't you worry.

The tale of the tape

I've only lost 5 pounds over the last 4 weeks. The last few weigh ins have been consistent 1 pound losses and I've been cursing every last nut and bolt that makes up that blasted thing they call a scale. I was getting less and less motivated do to the realization that this journey truly WAS going to take forever at that rate. I was beginning to think that I might make goal just in time to go teets up and never be able to enjoy it. All week I'd been partaking in the holiday goodies that are around every last corner of my office and was taken to lunch at the Olive Garden yesterday where I spent a lot of quality time with some bread sticks. After lunch the devil himself came to my office and he carried in his hand an obscenely huge 4 pound box of See's Candy. Needless to say, I was expecting bad things when I got on the scale this morning.

I took my sweet time going about the weigh in this morning because I didn't have to be to work until later. I finally worked up the nerve and climbed aboard. I closed my eyes and did my usual bout of praying. I opened one eye and peaked down at the number. My eyes bulged. Tis the season for miracles my friends...another pound down and this time I was thanking God as I stepped off that scale because at this point...a pound I would take.

While taking my shower I realized that it was measuring day. I try to take my measurements every 4 weeks to keep track of the progress. Between October 22nd and November 19th I had lost 6 1/2 inches in various places. When I measured today it was 7 3/4 more...that's 14 1/4 people. What really floored me is the fact that over the last 4 weeks I've really only lost about 5 pounds and I still managed to lose that many inches. 2.5 off my chest and 2.5 off my waist. An inch here and another there. This is crazy. I was losing so much motivation by the lack of results the scale was showing and in one day a $.99 measuring tape throws me spiraling back into the zone.

That measuring tape showed me that I have GOT to stop only focusing on the number on the scale. That measuring tape showed me that 26 pounds IS a huge accomplishment. That measuring tape showed me that there's no way I'm just losing water weight...I'm losing honest to God FAT now. I filled up a back pack with miscellaneous things until it weighed 26 pounds and then I walked around the house with it. You don't realize just how much it is until you do something like that and I carried that extra weight around every single day just 3 months ago. No wonder my knees are giving out.

I have come so far. Yes, it is just a drop in the bucket compared to how far I have to go but when I started this blog I had 200 pounds to lose and now I only have 174 to lose. 174 seems a lot more doable than 200 and do it I will. It's ok that I won't be making my 10% weight loss by Christmas because I did make 25 pounds by Christmas. I'll just set another goal and work on reaching it. Months from now I'll be remembering when I reached that 10% goal and I'll be heading on to 50 and 75. One day Operation Drop 200 will be behind me and Mission Maintenance is all I'll have to worry about. I will do this, even if it takes years, because no one's going to do it for me and going teets up isn't anything I want to happen anytime soon.

What a wondrous thing

the human body is. I've been trying to pay special attention to the changes in my body as I lose the weight and even though I've only lost 25 pounds I've still noticed quite a few changes. I've learned that these things are called NSV's...non-scale victories. Who would have thought there was a term.

I have these pants, 3 pairs of them actually, and they zip on the side. I've never been able to zip them while they're pulled up, still can't. I can't reach around my belly plus I'm left handed and it all just goes terribly wrong. But I bought them anyway figuring, like most women, I will devise a plan of attack and they WILL work (don't even pretend that you've never laid on a bed to get pants zipped up people). So, every time I wear these pants, which is often, I zip them BEFORE I pull them up. Now, 25 pounds ago that was quite a chore. My hips and my tummy played tug-o-war every single time causing me to wiggle ever so gracefully into them. Well, wiggle no more my friends. I can just pull em up with very little effort.

I have a fairly new car. This new car has a gas door opener that I've never been able to reach without taking my seatbelt off, or the trunk for that matter. When I started losing this weight I told my sister "Some day, oh yes, some day...I will reach that gas door opener." Ya'll that day was last Friday. I decided to give it a go and praise be to Jesus I reached it. I instantly called my sister and whispered into my phone so as not to let the guy pumping my gas hear and we had mini fiesta right there at gas pump 4. After Christmas shopping with her she asked me to pop my trunk and I reached for my seatbelt (as was custom). I stopped and said, "Shall we go 2 for 2?" I pulled the lever, opened the trunk and screamed "Woo ha, I can reach that too biaaaatch." It's the little things.

Then there are the moments of desperation where 25 pounds down could not have come in any more handy. Just today I raced into the bathroom and could NOT for the life of me get the zipper on my JEANS down. In a moment of desperation I just grabbed the waistband, EASILY pulled my buttoned AND zipped jeans down, and then back up just as easily. JEANS people, JEANS!! It was that moment that I became extremely thankful that I've been losing weight.

There are weird things you notice about your body too. I try to assess the losses by looking in a full length mirror every so often (this is not for the faint of heart, trust me) and to my wonder and amazement, just because something has gotten smaller on the right side of your body, doesn't mean the left side is taggin along. I have a small roll on my back where your bra hits (hard to find amongst the other rolls so I'm trying to draw you a map as we speak) I looked at my right profile in the mirror one day and rejoiced when I noticed that the roll was gone. I turned to assess the left side and it was there. Right side, gone. Left side, there. Right side???? Left side??? What the???? I'm lopsided!!! It's a cruel cruel world.

Non-scale victories are crucial...especially when you haven't been having many victories ON the scale. I weighed myself this morning and I had only lost 1 pound, as did I last week. I reached my 25 pound milestone and here I am beating myself up because it looks like I probably won't reach my goal of losing 10% by Christmas. I do realize that I'm losing the weight at a healthy rate but it doesn't seem to matter. I do realize that I have lost TWENTY FIVE pounds and I should be so proud of myself but, curses, all I see is the fact that I'm not accomplishing what I had set out to do by Christmas. Do I keep my eye on the prize and just try really REALLY hard the next two weeks? Possibly, but I know that losing 10.5 pounds in two weeks isn't very realistic so why set myself up for another failure. I just need to find my focus again. I need to remember how I felt and looked 3 months ago and 25 pounds ago. I need to remember that as little as 3 weeks ago I couldn't pop the door to my gas tank without taking my seatbelt off. I need to remember that I can do this...because I am fierce.

TV time out!

Can we just assess what we've been watching people? And I don't mean just "watching" but we are sucked into these things as if it were some sort of violent freeway accident. You don't want to watch but you just can't help yourself. Like lemmings to a cliff, that of the overweight tune in weekly to get a glimpse of what the other side might be like. I'm right there with you, I must confess, and as if I weren't disgusted with myself enough for simply watching...now that I've figured out their ulterior motive I'm just plain livid with myself.

You've got The Swan on Monday, The Biggest Loser on Tuesday, and don't correct me if I'm wrong...you have Extreme Makeover on Thursday. Now, in a nutshell, they've gone from simply feeding you images of size 0, annorexic, waifs making you think this is what a REAL woman should look like to what I'd say is much worse. Between these three shows you are pretty much forced into believing one or all of the following:

1.) The only way to lose weight is to starve yourself and workout until you puke at which time you will be cast out because you haven't lost ENOUGH!

2.) The only way to find self-worth and confidence is to have your nose broken just to straighten it, the fat sucked from your body with a straw attached to a high power vacuum, severe ta-ta realignment defying all the laws of gravity, and then have some of the aforementioned fat "redistributed" to your lips.

3.) The only way to feel truly beautiful is to not look in a mirror for 3 months and then, in front of millions, reveal the new you at which time you exclaim "I look nothing like me. I'm beautiful." (and then they tell you that you just don't qualify for the pageant because you aren't quite pretty ENOUGH).

HELLO??? Am I the only one that finds this fundamentally WRONG? Please tell me this is not really the only way. If so, what the hell am I working so hard for? Now, I feel I need to make one thing clear. If at any time after my weight loss journey Extreme Makeover should come calling on ME, I will be in that overwhelmingly unattractive paper robe in a hot second BUT hell if it's going to determine THIS girl's self-worth. The hard work I put into losing the weight IN A HEALTHY MANOR will determine just how strong I really am. Going to the gym almost every day will help find MY inner self. There is no secret pill or voodoo spell. It's hard work and determination (more than most people have) and it's quite simply...ME! No one but me can make the necessary decisions I need to make to lose the weight. No one is force feeding me Ben & Jerry's...though that doesn't sound half bad in a sick sort of way. If I get upset and eat myself straight into a coma...yep, still all me. SLIPPING off program is far from FALLING off program. Every time I slip I'm ok as long as I get right back on program as soon as possible. I am not a failure if I eat badly one day or even one week. I am a failure if I GIVE UP and THIS girl ain't givin' up.

I am now down 24 pounds. I've said goodbye to the 350's, the 340's and almost the 330's in about 2 1/2 months. I have conquered one major holiday and I am on to the next. I have lost a combined 7 inches in various places on my body and NONE of it was sucked out by a high powered vacuum. Maybe I was wrong when I said that one day I would be fierce...maybe I already am!

Please pass the gravy!

Thanksgiving...the word in and of itself seems fairly harmless. We were raised to believe that this is a day to give thanks. Thanks for your health, your family, and the roof over your head. It's a day to come together and spend time with family and friends some of which you really only see during the holidays. It's a day of parades and football. It's a sign that Christmas is near and people begin to sport some of that holiday cheer.

OH PLEASE!! That may have worked when I was about 8 but I'm on to you now. I started becoming one with my contempt for this holiday when, in my twenties, I was still sitting at the kid's table getting gravy slathered on my new outfit by 4 year olds. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to see all the family again, but come on don't give me that "Day to be Thankful" crap. I'm thankful for the above mentioned things all year long but ya know dang well THIS day is strictly an excuse to come together and eat like it is the last meal you will EVER digest. It's a competition to see who can claim bragging rights as Most Likely To Utter "OOooooh I ate too much." People specifically plan to wear elastic waistbands on this day so that there is NOTHING holding them back from pure gluttony. And don't get me started on all the men that run to watch football while all the women clean up.

You want me to be thankful? Ok, I got some thanks for ya...

Thanks to the gravy that is clogging my arteries.

Thanks to the pumpkin pie ever so efficiently raising my blood sugar.

Thanks to the Turkey causing a nice Tryptophan coma.

Thanks to the Mashed Potatoes & Stuffing sitting in my stomach like a brick.

And last but not least,

Thanks to the Green Bean Casserole that will soon find a nice home on my thighs.

Every year I am freaked out the entire week before T day by the amount of food I will be confronted with and making the "right" choices. Then the day comes and voila...every plan of attack is derailed by every sight, every smell, every offer of food. So how did I do THIS year? Well, the Monday before I was cornered by a fairly vicious dessert. I'm pretty sure I saw it picking it's teeth with the remains of the last overweight person caught in it's path but I looked that pumpkin pie in the eye and I said "You are a visitor here. You are merely passing through. You will NOT find comfort in the recesses of my fat cells." As for the day itself...I reigned supreme over all things previously found intimidating. I filled up on a veggie tray before I even dished up the dangerous stuff and though my plate was pretty full after taking a little of this and a little of that...I couldn't even eat half of it. Praise the Lord my stomach has shrunk. The really bad things I took only a couple bites of and instead of another pumpkin pie fiasco I brought a low point dessert for everyone to eat. Afterall, I had to hold myself accountable again this morning when I weighed in and I'd rather take credit for a success than a failure. And this morning...it WAS a success. Another 2 pounds down.

So what if I missed out on lots of the things I would have eaten in the past. I am not the girl I used to be. I am 23 pounds lighter than the girl I used to be and I didn't get there eating the way I used to eat. There's a saying that goes "Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels." I can't say I know what being thin feels like but I can say that there was nothing on that table worth gaining for. Going backwards means I wasted not just one week but two because the next week will be spent trying to lose what I gained the week before instead of continuously moving forward to my goal. So I stick my tongue out to this piddly little thing we call Thanksgiving and say "Bring it on, Christmas".

Emotional eating

It starts out innocent enough. You eat the leftover Thai food from the night before, which was probably 3 servings worth, but you didn't realize just how much was in there because you ate it straight from the container instead of putting it on a plate. Any other day you'd have measured every single bite and counted every last point but not today. Why? Because you're upset. It can be a bad day at work or an argument with a loved one. It doesn't matter how big or small the emotional pain or how good you've BEEN doing on your fight to lose your extra weight because right now you feel, even subconsciously, that the only thing that will make you feel better is eating...and so you do.

Now you run out to the store to get something and grab a pint of ice cream barely pausing to think about the fact that you don't really eat that stuff anymore because it is your biggest trigger food. It's the food you tend to eat the most of. You get home, grab a spoon, and belly up to that little Ben & Jerry's carton of heaven and start watching a movie. Like a well oiled machine you take mouthful after mouthful barely even aware of the fact that you're eating something. Now, it's been proven (by some evil scientists) that after the first few bites of ice cream you can't really even taste it anymore because your taste buds are pretty much frozen. Well, you're no quitter. Eat on you say!! Wasn't it your parents that always said that if you're going to start something then finish it? Well, by God, finish it you will...and finish it you did. An entire pint of Ben & Jerry's in one sitting. You look down at the empty carton of doom and say to yourself, "What did I just do?" This is when you flash back to the carton of Thai you ate an hour ago and start to panic. You run to your room, throw off your clothes & jump on the scale. Then the praying begins "Please God, Please God, Please God...do NOT let it be up too much." You look down, and as if someone were pushing down on your shoulders, you have magically gained 9 pounds in the matter of one day. After verbally berating yourself you cry yourself to sleep.

The next day you get up and hop on that scale again after, of course, going to the bathroom. The praying starts again, much the same as the night before, and when you look down it's a gain of 7 pounds. It took you 3 weeks to lose those 7 pounds and now you've gained it back in ONE DAY! You stomp into the kitchen and make a batch of Almond Poppyseed Muffins. You eat half the batch figuring, "Why not, you've already completely screwed up this week." Then you sit on the couch for 6 hours straight wallowing in your self-pity. You lament over what a complete failure you are. You cry, you berate yourself just a little more and it takes you an entire week to fully get back on track again because you're so upset over what you've done.

You've just experienced a day (or more) in the life of an emotional eater. A day I've had more times than I can count. A day I had last weekend. No, I didn't eat ice cream (thank God) but I have many times, and my Thai food was actually a run to Taco Bell, but the Poppyseed aspect was right on. Why'd I cave? I was upset about an argument I'd had with someone, it's as simple as that. Just when I thought I'd gained my composure, my doctor tells me I have pre-diabetes and I spiraled into a major case of depression, which I'm still in. It's a life of meds and blood testing for me because my doctor treats pre-diabetes as aggressively as diabetes (especially for someone with diabetes in the family). All I want to do is eat everything in site and it's taking all my strength not to. The only bright side I can find is that I'm not emotionally eating as badly as I would have before I got back in the zone. Inevitably, I will gain when I get on the scale tomorrow for my weekly weigh in and that too I will have to deal with. Will it make me even more depressed so that I do give in and eat anything and everything I can? Only time will tell. But I will get on the scale, do my praying for mercy, and then hold myself accountable for every last pound gained.

(Update: I didn't gain...or lose. I stayed exactly the same.)

It happened!

So there I was, minding my own business, blabbing away in my journal a few nights ago about nothing and everything all at once when it happened! It FINALLY happened! I never thought it would. I'd heard about it, this rumored sense of empowerment, but it was so foreign a concept to me that I thought it was a revelation that would never come my way. Out of my pen came the words I CAN DO THIS! I stared at it for a minute wondering why writing it this time seemed so different. Then I realized, like most everyone I'm sure, that I usually only utter those 4 small words because I feel that it should be the dieter's mantra. It's what they've told us we have to believe. They (not sure who "they" are exactly) tell us to think positively. They tell us to look in the mirror screaming "I AM BEAUTIFUL AND I AM WORTHY." and all the other psychological mumbo jumbo they've been feeding us for so long because one day we WILL believe it. Quite frankly, that's exactly what I considered it all this time...just some silly psychological mumbo jumbo. I HATE when I'm wrong. Holy crap I CAN do this. Who'da thunk it? Those itty bitty formerly pointless words suddenly became very meaningful. It made what seems like an impossible journey...attainable.

I CAN DO THIS! I can make the necessary choices to reach my goal weight. If it takes hours to talk myself out of a full fledged threesome with Ben & Jerry then hours I will spend, dang it! So what if I have 28 years worth of bad habits to replace with better/healthier/new habits...sure beats being dead at 40. I even went to the gym last night for the first time in, jeeze, close to a year?? I walked in there like I owned the joint, head held high. I got on that treadmill and I did my thang (slowly, but did it nonetheless) right next to the skinny girls I despise. Granted, I WAS secretly hoping they'd take a mis-step and fall right off the back of that thing but come on people, Rome was NOT built in a day!

The day WILL come that I slide on a pair of jeans that haven't fit in years and to my wonder and amazement they will be TOO BIG. The day WILL come that I'm walking down the street and pass a window and catch a glimpse of my reflection and have to stop...and look...and wonder...just who that girl in the window is. The day WILL come when other girls hate ME TOO simply because I've got the body they've always wanted...oh what a day that will be. Some day I will be a runner, I will be strong, I will be FIERCE! Some day I will!!

I am trapped...

Not in a prison of bars and wardens, but one of my own making. Blame could be placed in many places, but inevitably it was my own doing. I take accountability for the life I've been leading so far and for the damage I've done to myself not only physically, but emotionally. That is why I also take credit from here on out for every day, every THING I do to break free. I am a prisoner in my own body.

Born 10 pounds and 5 ounces, I'm a girl that has never known anything other than being overweight. For 28 years I've been on just shy of a bazillion diets and if you take all the weight I've lost and regained in my lifetime you would have that of an NFL Linebacker. I know more than any one uneducated person should about nutrition and the "right way" to eat...you just can't tell by looking at me. I'm a very mobile big girl, but at 28 my knees are going quickly from the excess weight and it's only a matter of time before I can barely get around at all.

I know what compels me to take this journey, but a lot of people will wonder just how hard I was hit in the head to have me publish a blog about my weight and the struggles of losing it. The only people that will understand are those trying to take the same journey. A size 2 wearing, Janet ab having, eat whatever they want and don't gain weight kind of person won't get it. To all those who know what it's like to go to a restaurant and be scared you won't fit in the booth...this Blogs for you! To all those afraid to fly not because you'll crash but because you will need a seatbelt extension and be mortified when even THAT doesn't work as the person next to you is disgusted by your mere presence...this Blogs for you! To all those who go into their local hip clothing stores knowing the skinny girl rushing to see who just came in isn't thinking "How can I help you?" but "What on EARTH are YOU doing HERE?"...this Blogs for you! Maybe what I say about how I'm feeling week to week will strike a chord with someone else. Maybe if someone else in my position sees my struggle they too will get through another plateau, through one more family gathering based around food, through a binge brought on by emotional eating, and through a day where all they want to do is give up and continue hiding in their bodies.

The fact of the matter is, I don't know what I look like underneath all this. I don't know what the thin version of me is like, I've never met her. I only know the life of a fat girl. A girl ACHING to break free and find herself, her thin self, for the very first time. I joined WeightWatchers.com one month ago today (again) and I'm doing it. Every second of every minute of every day is devoted to finding myself…body and soul.

One month ago I weighed in at 355 pounds. Today I'm down 16 pounds. Sixteen when you have to lose 200 doesn't seem like much and can sometimes be overwhelming, but no one ever climbed a mountain without taking those first few small steps. Sixteen is closer to 200 then I was a month ago. Sixteen pounds down is a far cry from 16 pounds up. Sixteen pounds down means my pants fit a little better and my knees feel a little stronger. So Operation Drop 200 is under way and "I can't" is no longer in my vocabulary.