Chez Crazy

Day 29

Sometimes I just can't stop myself.

Tonight was a classic example. We were out having dinner with friends. There were chips. And there was salsa.

And precious little willpower.

I just couldn't quit eating them. They were so yummy. By the time my actual dinner came, I wasn't even hungry. I wish I could say that I just boxed it up and brought it home.

Nope. (Oh my gosh, I feel gross.)

Thankfully these days don't happen as often as they used to. And I'm going to work out tonight to try to undo some of the damage.

Any other time, this would be when I throw in the towel and call it over. I'd break out the brownie mix and have a baking bash.

Not now. I don't want to go there. Not again. Because if I did, not only would I still be fat, but I'd have another reason to get down on myself.

And I'm too busy getting rid of those reasons to take on another.

I just can't stop myself. I will keep going.

So, lovely and supportive readers, when you've blown it, how do you bounce back? What works for you?

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Progress Update: To date I've lost 10.2 lbs. I must confess that in the last week I gained and lost the same 2 pounds. I firmly believe that diet soda was the culprit and it has been cut out. I have exercised at least 6 days a week and gradually reduced my per-day calorie limit.

Day 28

I'm not identified by the number on the scale.

Hopefully it goes down. Sometimes it goes up. But they're just numbers. And I give them far too much power.

I let my mood be impacted by what I see on the scale. I step on, hopeful that the numbers will reflect the hard work I've done. When they do, I feel good. I'm happy. I feel more than successful. I feel validated.

When they don't go the way I hope, I'm grumpy, frustrated, depressed. I feel like a failure.

While the scale does give SOME indication as to how this journey is going, it isn't the only factor to consider. After all, several small things can impact what I see there, regardless of how hard I'm working. (PMS, for starters. Ladies, can I get a witness?!)

I can tell I'm making progress when my clothes seem a bit looser, when my cravings change, and when my body reacts to unhealthy foods that used to be staples in my diet.

Even more than that, I can tell that my mind and heart are changing. I'm not running to food as often when I'm stressed or sad. I'm actually wanting to exercise regularly. And I'm looking at myself in a new light. I'm worth the effort I'm making. I'm conquering this, one day at a time.

No matter what that darn scale says.

Day 27

You know what helps me get through the days when I'm sick of this fight? People who "get it".

I'm so grateful for people in my life who have struggled with weight and are on the path to health. It's with them that I am most raw and vulnerable.

I'm not saying that I'm fake with everyone else. If you know me at all, you've probably seen me "tell it like it is".

And I'm not saying naturally thin and healthy people haven't been supportive. They are right there, cheering me on, encouraging me to keep going. They may not have struggled with their weight, but they still care and that means so much.

But it's the people who fight these same battles who are keeping me on this path. Their support is more than intellectual. It's experiencial. There's a precious camaraderie between those with similar struggles.

We share the same frustrations about being fat. We tell each other our war stories and we nod together because we've shared the same foxholes. We celebrate good choices and push past bad ones because we've made them too. We laugh about the crazy stuff and cry about the pitfalls; they are familiar territory.

So here's to all of you who are on this road with me. Some are ahead of me; a few have even reached the goal. Some walk alongside me, and we warn one another about the potholes. Maybe some are just taking the first steps. Either way, let's keep moving.

We're getting closer.

Day 26

I get tired.

I mean really tired. And not the good kind of tired you get from a vigorous workout.

I'm talking about being tired of trying. Tired of fighting this battle every day. Tired of saying NO when everything in me wants to say YES.

Today has been one of those days. I haven't wanted to count my calories or make good choices. I just wanted to eat whatever sounded good and sit around like a lazy bum.

And I didn't want to tell you. Somehow telling you makes it real.

For the record, I still counted calories. I still made pretty good choices, all in all. It's just that I REALLY didn't want to.

What do you do, my friends, when you get tired of the constancy of the battle you fight? How do you keep yourself going? What inspires you to move forward?

Because I could use some inspiration right about now.

Day 25

We got a piece of mail for my mother-in-law. It's not that unusual, I suppose. Sometimes forwarded mail catches up and companies find a new address for an intended recipient.

But here's the thing. The letter was an advertisement for life insurance. And my mother-in-law is deceased - has been since September 5, 1998. That's twelve years!

I chuckled at the irony I saw the envelope. I thought, "That's a bit late, isn't it? After all, she's no longer with us."

Every day I hear messages that are intended for the old version of me. The fearful, insecure, lazy, unhealthy me. Some messages are internal and some come from outside sources. They say things like:

• "You'll never reach your goal, so go ahead and quit." (This is why I'm taking my goal in 20 pound increments.)
• "You're not worth the effort of a good workout, but HEY, good news! You ARE worth a box of brownies, so treat yourself!" (Flawed logic, anyone?)
• "One bad day deserves another - so blow it today and you can blow it tomorrow too!" (I didn't say it made sense...)
• "Eat a pizza!" "Buy this exercise gizmo!" "Try a triple-decker cheeseburger!" "Order this miracle weight loss drug!" (All this during one 2-minute commercial break. I think my TV has multiple personality disorder.)
• "Your weight makes you a second-class citizen." (OK, so no one actually ever says that. But when the "plus section" of a giant clothing store is just 2 small racks hidden way in the back, it can feel that way.)

I may have heard these, but they aren't really for me - not for this new version, anyway. I have to remind myself of that fact, because every now and then I forget that I'm changing. I'm improving. I'm not that woman anymore.

These messages are a bit late. She's no longer with us.

Day 24

I've been kind of serious on here lately, but sometimes I have the silliest thoughts on this journey. Usually they start with "if only".

If only broccoli and asparagus tasted like chocolate... (I'd probably have planted my own garden by now.)

If only using one of those goofy exercise machines actually counted as real exercise.... (Seriously, who buys this stuff?)

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If only black were as slimming as we all hope it is.... (Yeah, no matter how much black I wear, it's not going to make me a size 8.)

If only I had a personal chef...and personal trainer...and locks on the pantry, and no fast food within driving distance.... (Would that be cheating?)

If only foods came with signs to indicate how long I'd have to exercise to burn them off.... (Imagine it - "Warning: If you eat this Snickers bar, you will have to run for 3 hours, and we both know you don't want to do that!)

When you're making lifestyle changes, what crazy "if only" things do you wish for?

Day 23

It's a scary thing to lay myself bare like this. Exposing the crap in my mind and heart is embarrassing, and I often wince as I hit the big “post” button. Some days I just don’t want to tell you about my sick relationship with food or my ridiculous laziness.

But I’ve found in the past few weeks that I need to do this. It’s part of what’s making this life change work. Opening up to you about my mess is making me face it for what it is. I can’t run from it or ignore it. It’s here in these posts for all the world to see, so if I don’t deal with it, all of you will know it.

There’s something else that’s been rather surprising. I didn’t realize how much the support would mean to me. The responses I get encourage me to keep making the better choices, even when I don’t want to.  They keep me posting when what I have to say is mortifying and I want to crawl under a rock.

To illuminate a dark place is to take a big step toward freedom.

Here’s to the light.

(And thanks.)

Day 22

I'm in between. Behind me is bondage, ahead of me is health.

I'm moving closer to freedom, but slavery still calls my name.

I hear it when I pull into Sonic to get a diet limeade. I smell it when I pass the bakery at the grocery store. I see it in TV commercials for pizza, fried chicken and cookie dough. I taste it when I attend a potluck meal full of yummy fattening homemade foods. I feel it when I wake up late and sore and lacking energy.

And I must confess, even though I know I was in bondage, I sometimes miss it. I miss the days when I could eat with abandon, not giving a thought to the price I was paying. I find myself pining for lazy days when exercise was something other people did - people on TV and Twitter - but not me. Captivity was comfortable in many ways.

The promised land is out there somewhere, across the desert of change. It's a place where health is a habit and not a struggle. But it feels so far away. It would be easy to go back, to believe that being healthy is too much work or that I'm not worth the effort.

I won't go back. I'm taking another step away from the prison that held me captive. Another step toward freedom. It's going to be wonderful. I just have to get through this desert.

This reminds me of one of my favorite songs by Sara Groves. It's called "Painting Pictures of Egypt". Take a listen, then ask yourself: "What is my Egypt? Am I moving out?"

This is a picture of my tattoo. I got it a few months ago, after years of deliberating about whether I'd get one and what I'd want to have on my body forever. (After all, some of them look TERRIBLE on old wrinkly skin, right?)

This is Hebrew for the word "redeem". Redeem can be defined as "to offset the bad effect or to make worthwhile." I wanted this to be a constant reminder that God can and will redeem anything in our lives if we let Him. This is sort of a running theme for me and I thought a tattoo on my wrist would be a great way to keep me remembering it. He can take the crap in my life and make it beautiful. I've seen it time and time again.

Sometimes I get sad about my life up to this point. I'm sad that I've spent 39 years being trapped by my own weight, by my choices and their consequences. I often feel like I've wasted so much time being fat. If I'd been healthier earlier, maybe I wouldn't have struggled with infertility. Maybe I wouldn't have suffered those miscarriages. Maybe insecurity wouldn't have been such a big obstacle.

Then I get angry that I've let this be my reality and that I haven't heeded the warnings from family members and doctors. I can't believe I have gone so far down this road. I'd never have imagined 20 years ago that I'd be the size I am now, but yet here I am. How infuriating!

That is when I have to remember that God can even redeem all that mess. He can use it for His glory if I choose to hand it to Him. He can even turn it around and cause it to have value in my life and to others. It's hard to imagine what he could do with it all, but I'd rather let Him take it on. Then I can sit back and watch His creative powers at work.

I wonder what this redeemed mess will look like.

Day 20

I've heard it said on multiple occasions that it takes about 21 days to create a habit. I suppose that's true, though I've hardly ever made it past that point on anything so I really couldn't say from personal experience.

I was talking with my friend and coworker Tony about the changes I'm making. He mentioned that he discovered on his journey that there needs to be a "new normal". I thought about this and what that looks like in my own life.

My old normal consisted of a lot of fast food or manufactured food, late night runs to the store for chocolate, and heading to the kitchen whenever the mood struck. I sat on my big booty for hours at a time as days or even weeks passed between exercise sessions. I ignored the scales, bought the next size up when things got tight, and all the while I lamented my fate as a fat person.

Now I'm forging a new normal. It sucks. It's hard. It's going to take SO LONG. I'm having to look at every aspect of my life and reprogram the way I think and feel.

I'm monitoring my calories, eating more "real foods", and saying NO when I want to eat without actually being hungry. The kitchen is stocked with wiser snacking options for when those chocolate cravings hit. (Yeah, I'm not sure they'll ever really go away). I'm exercising 5-6 days a week, forcing myself to find time to make it happen. Instead of buying the next size up (and to be honest, there aren't many sizes left), today I bought new exercise shoes. Eventually I'll need smaller clothes, too. Things are getting a bit baggy. 

And I'm not going to let myself bemoan my situation anymore. That's a big thing. I'm owning it and dealing with it.

If you've ever shifted your version of "normal," how did you do it? What worked long-term?