I Feel Great

I weighed myself and I'm 270. But I'm not going to change the weigh-in from before, because I'm pretty well convinced I'm going to get there within the next week or so. If I don't, then I'll reluctantly change it and suck it up. But I really think I pop a Dulcolax (ahem) and make it to 269. Sorry if that's grouse, but hey.

I've been doing OK, actually. I was a little worried there for a bit because I wasn't journaling or exercising at all (after I got the stomach flu). I thought, Oh here we go... motivation gone, to return whenever? But it didn't turn out to be that way, thankfully.

Right now I'm about 30 pounds down from my February weight and I feel good. I feel great, actually. My highest weight was 338. I was buying my clothes online and had gone beyond the normal accommodations for a fat person. No longer able to buy pants in the store, hard time fitting into chairs and stalls. After getting down to 298 and riding around there for a while, I was teetering on feeling more normal, but still finding myself the largest person in the room, and feeling huge.

Now, at 270/269 I feel much more "normal" in my body. I can shop off the rack. I fit in chairs better.

Today I was called into my boss's office and asked to take a seat for a quick conference. Normally I'd perch on the edge of the seat because the armrests were too narrow for me, rather than appear like a pig stuck in the fence, taking notes. For no reason, though, today I slid right back, utilizing the armrests.


Yeah, baby, yeah.

It's definitely not the end of the road, my goal, or where I want to be. I was wondering today if I could hang out here comfortably for a while, maintain, and let my body settle. I worry too much weight loss is setting myself up for disaster. But I'm not quite ready to maintain at this point. Maybe another 20 pounds and I'll hold that for a couple months. We'll see. I don't really know.

I am finding that I'm still somewhat frightened of losing weight. As much as I enjoy being able to fit into the clothes I have (gosh it feels fabulous), I'm still scared. I'm super excited, though, to have the scale dip below 250. That will be exciting. 238, 100-pounds down will be pee-my-pants hoorah. It will also probably be quite a while, though, because I'm enjoying summer and all of the fun foods, drinks BBQs, sporting events, all that good stuff.


On another note, I walked 3 miles yesterday and almost 2 today. I love that I have more energy.

Veggie Obsession

Here's one of my current veggie obsession:

broccoli sprouts & homemade salsa (or pico de gallo from the store)
dress with oil & vinegar or Newman's light balsamic

Very yummy. I use about 1 cup of "fluffed" sprouts, and 1/3 cup salsa, or whatever combination. I ate it twice today. Very good, very low calorie.

Ups and Downs

I was sick with the stomach flu, which knocked me down to 269. After I regained my health again, I went back to 270. I'll weigh myself next week to see where I'm falling.

I've also been doing some fun summery things lately, which is great for the spirit, but not always so good for my eating. I can't pre-pack a lunch where the calories are all accounted for when we hit a baseball game, or picnick with friends. I have to just allow myself to either skip counting that day or try to figure it out later. I watch my portions. Normally I'd be going for walks, but it is so hot out that my walking has been decreased. Knowing this, I have to figure out what I will do to ensure I don't explode.

But the great thing is, I met up with some of my lady friends last night and one kept commenting on how good I looked and how I'd lost weight. It was validating. Because the week before I about murdered my husband.

We met up with some of his old work friends for a little tailgaiting and a game. I was feeling pretty good, my clothes fitting nicely, hadn't seen them for a while. Surely they'd notice, right?

Never assume.

We get there, say our hellos, huggy, huggy. My man trails in behind me and that's when our friends start in. Man, you have lost weight!!! Wow. You look great, dude. You've really slimmed down. I literally wanted to step back a few yards, get down low, sweep my foot out behind me and snort a few times before I ran at the group and knocked them all off of their little chairs and coolers. And then do it again. And then barrel over my husband.

It was like that. No. He's not been struggling, journaling, denying of self, weighing in, sacrificing. No, no. His wife is just doing that. He just loses weight because of it.

But I can't concentrate on it too much or my blood boils.

So instead I think on the gathering with my girlfriends last night and the multiple compliments from one of the ladies, questions on how I was doing it. And THEN, a few days ago, I saw an old friend who lives miles away who I hadn't seen for a year and she kept telling me how great I looked. How much she noticed I had lost weight. God love both of them for noticing.

With my husband's work friends, bless their hearts, but they're all kind of centered around my husband. I'm just part of the package. So honestly, I wasn't surprised that they didn't notice anything different with me. With MY friends, they're so sweet, and they noticed because they notice me.

At any rate, that's better than what the scale is telling me. And it is motivation to continue the slow, but sure progress that being intentional, holding myself accountable (with journaling) brings.


I don't know if I even want to make it official by putting it up here because I had to get sick to lose it. But it is what it is. I won't consider it a "goal made" until I hold it for a week, though. I just can't. But that's my weight for this week. My next kind of "mini-goal" in my head is 262.

The Bonus Of Feeling Like Crap Is That You Lose Weight

I've been sick. Friday my sis-in-law came over for some wine and brie, and I ended up spending almost as much time on the toilet as I did sitting with her and my husband.

Appetizing. I know.

Saturday I pretended to feel better (that's what I usually do), went to some graduations. Came home. Felt gurgling.

Sunday I was laid out cold all day. Bathroom, couch. Couch, bathroom. Bathroom. Sleep, sleep, sleep. A little World Cup, when tolerable. But mostly for background noise to know that I was still alive.


Yeah, so on top of having my period, I've got some nasty food poisoning or stomach flu. Nice.

I don't puke, haven't for a couple decades. But wished desperately that I did. I was so nauseous and it wasn't leaving my body fast enough. Monday, better, but not much. Popsicles, a few bites of food here and there. Today I tried getting in to work for a little bit and was not successful. Brought stuff home to do, but still haven't gotten around to it. Using most of my energy just to hold down the fort, get kids to the movies, take the dog out. I feel better, but waves of ick hit me and then I'm like, and why are you up and around acting like you feel OK?

I hate feeling sick. I'm a hypochondriac, so I just like to be better, but also I hate that it ties me down. But, looking at the bright side, I think I lost a couple pounds. Better take a picture of the scale, 'cause I'm sure my appetite will come back raging like a beast and I'll put it back on.

I've been sucking down popsicles, fruit, and today a doughnut. Craving simple carbs, apparently. My mouth wants to eat, but my digestive system is sluggish. I did try some jambalaya, though (hot and spicy - yum). Soup would do me some real good, but I've got nobody but myself to make it and myself is tired.

Oh, I'm Still Kickin'

I suppose after my last post it might be assumed I jumped off the wagon and into a warm vat of gooey chocolate. With caramel. Pecans, extra please... oh, and vanilla custard. Whipped cream. And a cherry.

Wha-- Huh?

I'm sorry, was I drooling?

One of those days, I guess. :)

Thanks for the sweet, supportive comments in that last post. I'm still dealing with the stress. Trying not to eat/drink it away/pill-pop it away. I sure wish I'd be one of those freak people who exercise or clean like a nut when they're stressed out, rather than turn to food. At least it's productive. I like to drink sometimes, but wouldn't want to be drunk 24/7, so that is good. The pills, I'm scared of getting addicted to, and they apparently have a decent street value because of their ability to charm.

So I'm working on walking on the sidewalk, not the curb, and definitely not right down the middle of the street waiting to get hit. There are times when I don't know how I do it, but taking it day by day helps. And then it messes you all up, too. But whatever. I'm not trying to be all pity party me, "I've got stress" woo-hoo. It is what it is. I realize the whole world out there has pains of its own. Mine are not unique. Maybe I will get into it more sometime, maybe not.

The good news is: I LOST 2 MORE POUNDS!!!

I'm not entirely sure how it happened, really, but I guess even when I'm pigging out now it isn't to the level of pigging out from a few months ago, and, for the most part I'm eating within my boundaries. It was scary there for a few days, though, because I wasn't sure if I was taking a one-way trip off the wagon or what.

My body has settled pretty well where I am. I could, technically stay here for a good year, letting my body adjust. But I think I really would rather sit at about 250-something, or below, then what I'm at right now. I don't feel like stopping just yet. I'm slow, but somewhat steady. My pace allows me some mess-ups, but not too many. Today I'm kind of taking one, and maybe tomorrow. Graduation parties, end-of-year stuff... we'll see, though. We'll see.

One thing I have to say, though, that bugs the living bagoodles out of me is that my husband is now pulling his belt a couple notches tighter. His pants are looser (looser than mine are). He has visibly lost weight, no questions about it. No waiting for people to ask, "Have you lost weight?!" No fat-blogging, calorie-counting. Nothing. This happens, literally EVERY time I am being conscious of my eating and working towards being healthier.

When I say it bugs the living bagoodles out of me, I mean you could take each one of those letters, pretend they are glass, and smash them on the ground screaming, and that might equal the frustration that I feel when this happens. And I poo-poo you not, it happens EVERY TIME. I don't know why it happens either, but it's not fair and it needs to stop.