Category Archives: weight loss

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DAY 174: A-O-(C25)K!

No, that title is not a math problem.  Well, hopefully not.

My first-ever race, the 4.01K, is coming up in just under 3 weeks!  Mind you, I have only JUST started running.  When I signed up for this thing, I figured I would power-walk it rather than actually dare to jog it.  The problem with that now is that I have revealed to myself that I actually am capable of jogging the whole thing — 4.01 kilometers is only 2.49 miles — and my superego is not letting me off the hook for that.  So, I somehow find myself training for this silly little “race.”

I had always planned to switch from the elliptical to the treadmill at a certain point in my mission.  I am NOT at that point, but my body doesn’t seem to give a shit.  It’s all, “check me out, I’m healthy and limber and I can RUN now!”  Show-off.

Well, it may think it’s ready for this jelly, but it actually hasn’t ever sustained a run outdoors of more than, oh, two minutes.  Once.  Five years ago.

Enter Couch to 5K.

I hatched this scheme at some point over the past 2 days that I could modify the popular C25K plan to my level and my very attainable goal, even in this compressed timeline.  I can enter to the program at a more advanced step because I’ve trained up to a level of cardio that’s far above “couch,” so much to the pleasure of my over-achieving self, I fast-forwarded to week 4 (of 9), workout 3 (of 3).  I successfully completed that workout tonight in my new gym (!):

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Between now and October 4th, I have to knock out this series of workouts:

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That’ll be SUPER easy, considering I’m about to enter into a week of travel, almost all of which will be gymless.  I’ll be lucky if I even get all my steps in.  Honestly, self, why do you?

The good news is that week 7 of the training program IS to run a 4.01K, so really, it’s getting through weeks 5 and 6 before I’m all of a sudden ready (in theory).

What.  The.  Hell.

In a past life, I actually attempted this program, but I never even made it to week 4.  In fact, I think I quit just before getting there.  How does this program expect a bona fide couch potato to just get up and be running a quarter mile in one go within 4 weeks?  It doesn’t work that way.  It’s a totally intimidating regimen if you haven’t actually been moving in some way for a while.  Elliptical to 5K, sure.  Couch to 5K, my ass.

That said, I think I might actually try to see this one through.  After my “race,” I might as well continue the whole way through week 9 and complete a 5K run, right?  Maybe I’ll even… do a 5K race.

WHO AM I?!  (I’m Jean Valjean!)

By way of another mild update, I have somewhat returned to tracking.  I’m not going to actually log my food every day, but I am using My Fitness Pal again to calculate the calories in my recipes for the week to help me plan my meals.  There’s no sense in spending the time with entering in my food every day when it’s going to be the same thing every day until the next week, so as long as I know I’m in range heading into the week, I’m good.  I am going to a wedding at the end of this week, hence the travel, so I’ll sort of be in vacation mode for a week, but I still feel like I’ve got this on the food front.

It’s the whole training for a weird public “race” I’m not as sure about.

Better get sure, huh??

Wish me luck!

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DAY 171: Measurable success

I don’t really have enough content for a full blog post, but a lot of notable moments in my weight loss have happened just all of a sudden.

On August 30th, I signed up to run in a 4.01K (cute, huh?).  This will be my first outdoor run event ever.

On September 2nd, I jogged on a treadmill for 5 minutes for the first time in 5 years.

On September 6th, I bought a shirt — that fits — in size L.

On Tuesday (September 8th), I wore a skirt to work.

Yesterday (September 9th), I jogged on a treadmill for a full mile without stopping (12 minutes) for the first time ever at that pace.

Today, I moved the closure of my ever-looser VivoFit band so that only one last notch is visible.  After I make that final move, I’ll have to switch to the smaller band when this one becomes loose again.

All of these are HUGE milestones for me, and I have consistently surprised myself in the best possible ways as I’ve hit them.  Oddly, the one I’m most stoked about is the VivoFit band.  As I’ve mentioned several times, I am terrible at measuring myself.  I do it once a month, and somehow, it doesn’t really reflect the changes I know are there through the losses on the scale, the way I look, the way I move, and the way my clothes (don’t) fit.  One of the things I measure is my wrist, and since I started taking my measurements back when Vivo showed 4 notches, my incompetent measuring reflects only 1/4 inch lost.  Clearly, that’s wrong; here’s the size the band was when I started:

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Sooooo… not so much with the quarter inch.  My ruler tells me the distance covered in the notches I moved over is actually close to 3/4 inch.  My measuring tape tells me lies.

It’s nice to know that when I feel like my arms are slimming down, it’s because they are.  Now, if only I had a VivoFit band for my calves, thighs, forearms, biceps, hips, waist, chest, butt, and neck.

Happy first day of football season to all, by the way!  Can I interest you in one of the pumpkin oatmeal chocolate chip cookies I made and then brought to work like a good girl instead of devouring them all in the secrecy of my kitchen?  🙂

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Cheers!

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DAY 170: Sense of direction

There’s an idea — and a law of physics — that time only moves in one direction:  forward.

And yet, our clocks and watches reset every day.  Each morning, we get a new set of hours containing hundreds of chances for change.  If you’re reading this blog, the thing you’re trying to change is probably measured on the scale.

The scale, commonly thought of as the enemy, is actually a nifty little device.  It can — and does! — move backwards.  Oftentimes, its moves backwards can feel a hell of a lot like time travel.

As the needle has moved a little less to the right every week that I weigh myself, I’ve gone back to old clothes, old feelings, and old memories associated with the number the scale shows me.  I’m fitting into things I haven’t dared to even try on since my first job, since college, or since high school.  I have all kinds of associations with different garments, like remembering  seeing something on me in an old picture and wondering what the friends in the photo with me are doing now, or recalling when I bought the item, but never actually wore it anywhere.  Going back through my closet takes me back to moments in my life when I was younger and more optimistic, and it strangely conjures up not feelings of nostalgia, but feelings of hopefulness.

I started my weight-loss mission with the goal of running away.  I was going to put as much distance as possible between me and that ugly, ugly number the scale showed me when I stepped on it at my heaviest.  I never wanted to see the needle anywhere near it, ever again.

Now, a very comfortable number of pounds past my halfway point, I am running towards something: my goal weight.  I find I’m not looking at the distance between the needle and the weight of shame anymore; I’m looking at the distance between the needle and the weight of victory.

My thought is that this process compares nicely to the perspective you have when driving a car.  The rear view mirror is very important because it shows you where you’ve been and what might be coming from behind that may put you in danger.  The side mirrors are important because they let you look around and take stock of what’s happening in your periphery as you process and react to the changes in your environment.  But there’s a reason the windshield is the largest viewing surface, and the one the driver is oriented towards: life only moves in one direction.  All of the different views inform your **cringe** journey, but none of that matters if you don’t know where you’re going.

That’s why I’ve stopped running in evasion and started running in pursuit.

I’ll remember where I came from, but forget the way back there.

I’ll look around, but I’ll keep moving.

Eyes on the horizon!

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DAY 168: Forget me not

It can be really easy to lose sight of who you were once you’ve lost so much of yourself physically.

Sometimes, I’ll be in the middle of one of my hours-long cook-a-thons during meal prep for the week, and I’ll have a sudden flashback to what that was like when I first started.  I would have to take a couple of breaks to sit down and give my muscles and joints a rest.  If I stood in one position too long, my left leg would start to go a little numb around the knee area and I’d either have to walk it off for a bit or just deal with it until I was done.  (I probably should have talked to my doctor about that, but it stopped after I lost about 30 pounds, so I assume it’s nothing I should worry about now.)  After my few hours in the kitchen, I would be down for the count for the rest of the day, usually with swollen feet and sore hips.  That’s just from standing there!

I also sometimes remember the feeling of first getting up in the morning, not really feeling rested, and the discomfort of those first few rigid steps after coaxing myself out of bed.

I remember my walk to the metro taking 8-10 minutes longer in the morning because I had to stop and catch my breath at the top of those stairs on my route, and because I moved so much more slowly in general.

I remember trying to hide being winded while walking down the hall with anyone at work, and avoiding walking any more than down a hall with someone at work because it was too hard to hide being winded.

I remember getting out of the car after even just a short time driving and having to take the first several steps very, very slowly.

I remember always sticking to the shower curtain because there was no way to be in the shower without a part of me touching it.

I remember never untying my shoes because it was too much effort to get into a position to retie them.

I remember hating going shopping because nothing fit except the most horrendously ugly articles of clothing ever created.

I remember getting irritated when people would stop and hold the door open for me if I wasn’t that close to the door, because it made me feel like I had to rush to get to there, which made me lose my breath and feel embarrassed.

I remember driving to the grocery store two blocks away because walking was too exhausting.

I remember not wanting to go out on weekends because I only owned one pair of pants that fit, and I washed them on weekends so I could wear them to work again all week.

I remember not taking pictures when I really wanted to, because I didn’t want to see myself in them.

I remember avoiding travel, which is something that makes me happy, because it was too uncomfortable to sit on a plane or train.

I remember not wanting to go to the movies with anyone because I NEEDED both arm rests unless I wanted to twist myself up and feel the pain for hours afterwards.

I remember coming up with excuses not to see my friends or family whom I don’t often see because I was too ashamed of the weight, even though it would have made me happy to see them.

I remember hiding from the world because I had failed and therefore didn’t deserve to be happy.

I remember feeling guilty for not being happy.  I had everything set up right so I could be, and I ruined it.

I remember feeling hopeless, like someone looking back on a life she hadn’t even lived yet.

I remember I never wanted to die, but I didn’t want to live.

—

I’ve only been at this for shy of 6 months, and I’m sure there are already things in this vein that I’ve forgotten.  After all, none of this was pleasant to experience; who would want to remember it?  I can’t believe I got myself into a situation where the above was my daily experience of life.  Of course I was miserable.

Now, I’m replacing the bad memories with good ones.

—

I remember the first time I felt my bath towel close the whole way around my body.

I remember the first time a pair of workout pants became loose, then entirely too big for me.

I remember the first time I cracked 3 miles on the weight loss setting of the elliptical.

I remember the first time I flipped my mattress and changed my sheets, and realized I hadn’t changed my breathing at all.

I remember the looks on various people’s faces when they saw me for the first time since before I started losing weight.

I remember the first time I painted my toenails without straining.  They were bold blue.

I remember the first time I rocked a dress at work.  It was bold yellow.

I remember the first time I donated BAGS of old fat-girl clothes to charity.  And now, the second.

I remember the first time I was walking with a co-worker outside of the office to get coffee, and I had to slow down.

I remember the first time I up and jogged for 5 minutes.

I remember the first time I felt capable of participating in an outdoor race.  So I signed up for one.

I remember the first time I recognized myself in the mirror after all this time.

I remember the person I always was who’s been desperate to come out.

I remember she’s worth it.

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DAY 163: Working out is working out for me!

I had two BFD-NSVs at the gym today:

  1. I hit a personal best on the weight loss setting of the elliptical.  The weight loss setting is intervals for 28 minutes:  4 minutes on cross ramp 4 at low resistance, 4 minutes on cross ramp 10 (the highest level) at high resistance, repeat until a 5-minute cool-down (which I use as an opportunity to run like hell instead of to wind down).  It makes me sweat like a mofo while getting in cardio AND some toning in the legs, butt, and arms.  I usually net around 3 miles in the 33 minutes of exercise.  Tonight, I shattered my “usual” and beat my former personal best of 3.19 by .02 of a mile.  My new personal best:  3.21!  I’d love to work up to 3.25 by the end of the year.  It sounds like it should be easy, but it won’t be.  That extra .02, I KILLED for it.  I’m surprised I didn’t make the elliptical take off and fly away for all the noise it was making going at the top speed I hit!
  2. I jogged tonight.  I mean, REAL jogging.  I haven’t jogged more than 90 seconds in at least 5 years, so this is HUGE.  In the spring, I was doing a little jogging on the treadmill, but it always left me sore the next day — I was still too big to be putting that kind of stress on my joints.  All these pounds later, I’m finally working up the nerve to start visiting the treadmill in a non-walking capacity again.  Tonight was apparently the night.  I don’t know if it was the adrenaline from reaching my new elliptical PB or just that I was excited that I got the gym earlier than usual and had some extra time to squeeze in more cardio before it was time to go home, but I looked at the treadmill tonight and had a you-don’t-look-so-tough moment.  “I’m gonna jog for five minutes,” I told myself.  And then, I just did it.  WHAT?

Something kind of weird/cool linked my workouts tonight.  First of all, it’s worth noting that they almost didn’t happen; I let myself fall victim to gymtimidation more often than I should.  Tonight, there was a row of skinny girls casually using the ellipticals while flipping through fashion magazines and not breaking a sweat, all without headphones in.  I might have immediately abandoned my plans for the elliptical tonight had the ONE that was still available not been one with the moving handlebars.  I told myself, “You know what?  Let’s show these pretty girls what a real workout looks like.”

They were gone 5 minutes later.

Then, of course, a headphoneless DUDE got on the machine RIGHT BESIDE ME and started his work-out.  I started feeling self-conscious again, but then I thought, “Oh, you wanna get all up next to me while I’m working here?  OK, fella.  I’m gonna outlast you.”

And I did.

In the last 2 minutes of my run, which were the most intense because I had decided to break my previous PB at that point, another pretty girl hopped on beside me.  This time, I grinned smugly to my sweaty reflection in the machine and amped my legs into overdrive.  At the end of the workout, all self-consciousness was gone.  When I saw 3.21 on the display, I raised my arms in the air in a victory pose.  I didn’t even notice if anyone looked at me funny for doing that.

Right after that, I grabbed a treadmill all the way against the wall, with one person directly in front of me doing her own run.  I noticed 2 minutes into my jog that that person was raising her arms in a victory pose every 60 seconds.  Oddly, that helped me keep going.

Oh, and the patron saint of women was watching me the whole time from the tray on my treadmill:

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Someone had left a Rosie the Riveter sticker behind — with the backing still covering the adhesive portion.  After my successful jog, I stuck it in the front cover of my exercise log book (pictured).

OK, universe.  I hear you!  I’m raising my own bar.

Let’s lose some more weight, shall we?

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DAY 162: Thanks again, universe

Five.  That’s how many people commented on my weight loss today.  FIVE.

Co-worker #1:  “Have you lost more weight?  You look so good!”  (woman)
Co-worker #2:  “Are you getting smaller?  You look like you’ve lost weight!” (woman)
Co-worker #3:  “You’re looking so good lately.  I’m jealous.”  (woman)
Co-worker #4:  “Hey, girl, you look GOOD!  Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.  How much weight have you lost?”  (woman)
Co-worker #5:  “So… uh… have you been doing something different lately?” (man)

Side note:  It’s so funny how differently men and women broach the subject.  Women just go for it, like, “Work it, girl!” Men speak in euphemisms.  I think weight is the ONLY conversation topic where I can say I’ve experienced that.  It’s typically the reverse.  (I know gender dynamics in the workplace are the main factor here, but I can still find that amusing.  It’s adorable to watch my male colleagues squirm while trying to find a way to compliment me without risking a breach of HR policies.)

Anyway, the universe once again heard my outcries of frustration and sent me five reminders of why I’m doing this.  I need to not get tripped up on what may or may not happen in the future chapters of my weight loss.  I did that on a previous go-around, and I let it derail me.  Not this time.  What happens in the future is up to me, just like everything that has happened up until this point.  I let my exhaustion get the better of me yesterday, and ever since I had my little ranty moment, I haven’t given it much further thought.

What was it about today, though?  It’s so funny how I go for stretches of time with no one making a peep about my weight loss progress, and then, BAM!, five in one day.  I have officially lost track of how many people have remarked or what they’ve said (unless I wrote that stuff down in this blog).  I mean, I look like I’m wearing my big sister’s clothes these days because the most recent duds I bought are now hanging on me, but I don’t know why that just suddenly happened.  Case in point:  that oh-honey shirt I bought back in May is now loose to the point that the torso fabric no longer hugs my stomach and my bra is now visible through the arm holes when I move my arms.  Maybe this is a classic case of proportion shifts happening in the place of significant weight loss, and it’s my trade-off for the small losses on the scale recently.  Too bad I’ll never know because I’m such an inexplicably incompetent body measurer!

Either way, whatever.  I’ll take it.  I’d like to once again thank the universe for patting me on my pretty little head when I felt like an ugly little mess.

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DAY 161: Ready for fall

We had a lovely teaser of fall weather last week:  low humidity, bright sunshine, comfortable temps, and general pleasantness.  I took a few extra walks outside, opened all the windows in my apartment, hit the pool, traveled home the long way from work, ate on patios, and rotated through almost my entire robust collection of sunglasses.  It was pretty much perfect.

Now, it’s all gross and humid again, and it’s like… I JUST WANT IT TO BE OVER.

Which is kind of how I’m starting to feel about this whole losing weight thing.

My progress has been excruciatingly slow these last 3 weeks.  I always knew that would happen — I’m actually surprised it didn’t happen sooner — so I’ve been braced for it for months, actually.  I’m also a little skeptical that this is the slow-down; I think it’s a fake-out.

  • The week of 8/10 was my first week back from Seattle, and I was dragging ass like whoa.  I didn’t hit the gym at all, so no wonder I dropped under 2 pounds.  I’m lucky I dropped anything.
  • The week of 8/17, I picked my gym routine back up, but it was also restaurant week, and I indulged.  Three times.  Again, no wonder I dropped under 2 pounds.  (Really, it’s kind of surprising I lost any weight either of those weeks.)
  • This past week, I again lost a modest amount of weight, even though I can’t account for why.  (Then again, this process makes sense less often than it doesn’t, so I’m not twisting my brain into a pretzel trying to figure it out.)  I was in the gym exactly as planned, 5 of 7 days, and exceeded my steps by a lot every single day.  It’s probably just my body readjusting to this pace of exercise, or that I wasn’t eating enough on the fruit/veggies/fiber fronts.  I’ve tweaked my meals for this week to account for that in hopes of upping my game a bit.

So, to recap, I have lost exactly the same amount of weight each week for the past 3:  1.8 pounds.  The three-week grand total is 5.4 pounds, which I dropped in a single week early on.  Thinking about it that way is frustrating (which is why I haven’t thought about it that way until typing this), but a loss is a loss is a loss.  I’m not going to complain for having lost 1.8 pounds, especially considering the fact that for 2 of those 3 weeks, it came at very little cost of effort.

AND YET…

I just want it to be over.

The lifting and the ellipticaling and the treadmilling and the perfect food balancing and the OBSESSIVE step monitoring and the weight checking and the pushing through the foot paining and the UGH.  Make it STOP.  I’m TIRED.

I have valued this experience in ways I haven’t shared.  I have learned so much about myself, about other people, about health, and about life from my little self-overhaul, and I never imagined the volume of profound lessons I would learn simply by going all in on losing weight.  I am a better person for it in every way, and I know that.  I’m also not done in any sense.  I’m not done on the scale, I’m not done mentally, and I’m not losing focus or otherwise checking out.  If anything, I’m more committed to this mission every week than I was the week before.  So, still going strong?  Well, yeah.  No plans to change that.

The thing I think I’m really grappling with is, now that I’m entering territory I haven’t seen in many years, am I going to be able to master the post-weight loss?  I was getting in the shower after a long day outside, which included a lot of exercises inside and outside of the gym, and I just thought to myself, “I never want to do this again.”  Not the work I’d done that particular day, but this process.  This process whose infinite value I just raved about.  Don’t want to repeat it.  Ever.

It’s great and it’s rewarding and it can even be fun, but for the love of EVERYTHING, it is TEDIOUS.  It is TAXING.  It is PERSONAL.  It is HARD WORK.  It rewires your thinking to put yourself first, and it makes you feel conflicted for being selfish while knowing you’re doing the right thing.  It takes SO MUCH TIME away from the other parts of your life because there’s the getting to the gym, and the working out at the gym, and the getting home from the gym, and the meal planning, and the meal prepping, and the meal eating, and the BLAHBLAHBLAH.

And, while I’m actually enjoying myself in real time, I’m starting to get a little bit nervous about what happens next.  Am I going to have to give up all of my free time for the rest of my life, just to maintain health and fitness?  Am I going to be so focused and obsessed with that that there’s no room for anything or anyone else?  I know I’m getting ahead of myself, but this whole process has only worked BECAUSE I’ve gotten ahead of myself.  So, the question is:  How the hell do you prepare for thin life when all you’ve ever known is fat or working on it??

I guess it’s like anything else and you just figure it out.  So I will.  But ugh.

Is it fall yet?

P.S.  I’m hosting my first Diet Bet game!  As a group, we’re pooling our daily miles to travel around an exotic part of the world together.  This is the second in our series of as many DBs as it takes to “see” everything we want to see in the world.  If you’re getting a little restless like me and need more community support than you do monetary motivation, this is the group for you — it’s just a $10 bet.  We start tomorrow!  Join We Run the World here!

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DAY 153: Halftime

I can hardly believe it, but not too long ago, I reached the halfway point of my mission.

I had originally envisioned reaching this significant milestone sometime around my birthday in October, but I hit it more than two months ahead of schedule.  (As a lifelong overachiever, I’m pretty stoked about that.)  I had long planned to commemorate hitting the halfway point with something equally meaningful and that, like getting healthy, I have also always wanted to do:  get a single piercing in a non-lobe part of my ear.  Very early into my weight loss, I decided that for my birthday this year, I would give myself halfway-to-goal weight as a present, and finally put that coveted extra hole in my head.

Well, my body had other ideas.  It decided to scorch that timetable and reassign some of the meaning of the piercing.  (NO PROBLEM THERE!)

In July, when I knew halftime was imminent, my BFF from high school and I had a conversation in which we organically decided to go together so that she could get the two new tattoos she wanted and I could get the new piercing I wanted.  By coincidence, her two tattoos are each behind one of her ears, so there’s a bit of a friendship-bracelet aspect to my piercing now, too.  Between our competing and overbooked traveling schedules this summer, the soonest we could get in for our planned body defacements was this past Friday.  And we got ‘er done.

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This piercing represents a binding contract:  No turning back.

This jewelry represents a binding contract:  Live with strength.

When I was choosing the stud for the piercing, I was torn between this one and a white-gold star.  The star had obvious symbolism (I’m a star! *eye roll*) and was less expensive.  I was drawn to this triangular cluster of three circles immediately, though.  I ultimately chose it over the star because I think it best represents the person I want to be and believe I am becoming: feminine and strong.  There’s nothing dainty about this earring, but it’s classic, elegant, and distinctly feminine.  In terms of the shape, circles have no beginning or end, they just keep going — I’ve got to just keep going.  My favorite thing, though, is the triangle that those circles form.  I recently heard an interview with an architect on a podcast I listen to, where the architect said that the triangle is the strongest shape because each side can bear an equal load, and even when one side bears more, its other two legs are capable of supporting it so it won’t collapse.  I found that interesting at the time — interesting enough to remember it many weeks later — but I didn’t attach any additional meaning to that sound byte until it came back to me as I was selecting my jewelry.  I smile every time I catch a glimmer of my new earring in the mirror and I think of that.

So, I have pierced the moment at halftime.  I’m never going back to that pathetic train wreck I was before.  In femininity and strength, I have been reborn.

The best part about being halfway there is, I know I’ve got this now.  When I first started, I had no idea if I would be able to see it through to the end this time.  There was a great deal of ground to be covered, and I had to completely change everything about the way I was living to make it possible to cover any of it.  It was a daunting task, and one I’ve run from before.  For whatever wonderful reason, though, I got down this time.  I got strong.  I got disciplined.  I got tough.  I got fearless.

I know I can lose this last half of the weight because, well, I’ve already done it once.  “I can’t” is the least valid it’s ever been.  I can’t NOTHING.

That’s pretty damn exciting.

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DAY 150: Milestones update

It’s a milestone-numbered day, so it’s time for another milestones report!  Moving things out of the “Goals to be achieved” section feels AWESOME!  I can’t believe some of the earlier goals ever needed to be goals.  Wow, was I in a bad way.

Any suggestions of goals to add are VERY welcome, so please share some of yours!

Achieved within first 71 days

  1. Find a sports bra that fits so I can even work out. When I first started losing weight, I couldn’t get into any of the ones I could find.  I’ve gone down a size since first meeting this goal.
  2. Grab my foot from behind when my leg is bent at the knee in order to stretch out my thigh.
  3. Walk at a 3.0 MPH pace without struggling.
  4. Make it up one flight of stairs without getting winded.
  5. Stop snoring and start sleeping better.
  6. Lose 10 lbs.
  7. Lose 25 lbs.
  8. Be under the weight limit to stand on the step stool.

Achieved between days 72 and 100

  1. Sit on my own furniture. The dining chairs and patio seating I own have weight limits that I exceeded before I purchased them.
  2. Paint my own toe nails without contorting myself.  
  3. Close my towel the whole way around me when I get out of the shower.  
  4. Wear the oh-honey pair of pants I bought on April 11th.
  5. Wear the oh-honey shirt I bought on May 2nd.   
  6. Walk a mile at 3.5 MPH.
  7. Get 3 miles on the fat burn setting on the elliptical.   
  8. Tie my shoes without having to sit down.
  9. Go down a notch on my Vivo Fit band.   
  10. Lose 50 lbs.
  11. Lose 10% of starting weight.   
  12. GOAL REDACTED.
  13. Put ankle on opposite knee without having to use hands.   
  14. Fit into a restaurant booth.  
  15. Wear shirt size XL.
  16. Do 200 miles in a month.

Achieved between days 100 and 150

  1. Fit into my plaid rain coat.**
  2. Go down a half shoe size.  Tragic timing, because I had just bought several pairs of heels in my old size, but I am NOT complaining!
  3. Wear a dress.  This has happened multiple times, in multiple dresses.  In fact, it’s mid-happen.
  4. Fit comfortably into airplane seats.
  5. GOAL REDACTED.
  6. Get away from pre-diabetic sugar levels.  Like whoa!
  7. Fold down the tray table from the seat in front of me on a plane.
  8. Lose 25% from heaviest weight.
  9. Lose 75 pounds.  This is the last figure of pounds I will likely post!
  10. Wear my ring on my middle finger.
  11. Wear a swimsuit in public.  Two total swimsuits, four total times.**
  12. Hike up a mother-effing mountain, with mother-effing company.  This is a point of emphasis because I would have been too embarrassed to be huffing and puffing beside someone while doing anything remotely work-out-y even a month ago.**
  13. Reach halfway point of weight-loss mission!**
  14. Laugh-cry while trying on the “before” dress, which I put on by stepping through the neck hole.**
  15. Purchased and wore high heels!  I own 3 new pairs, one of which is in my new half-size down.  I wear them EVERY DAY at work now, and my feet feel just fine.  They actually HELP with that persistent jerk of a heel spur I still have.  Between the dresses and the heels, I am loving feeling girly!  I never thought I’d see the day.**
  16. Also, this progress on my DietBet Transformer:**
    progress

Goals to be achieved

  1. Jog in and complete a 5K.
  2. Fit into my red jacket.
  3. Fit into one leg of my fat-girl gray pants.
  4. Wear a single-digit dress size.
  5. Wear a single-digit pants size.
  6. No longer be in “overweight” category (BMI <25).
  7. Wear shirt size L.
  8. Wear shirt size M.
  9. GOAL REDACTED.
  10. Reach final weight goal.
  11. GOAL REDACTED.
  12. GOAL REDACTED.
  13. GOAL REDACTED.
  14. Get out of plus sizes.
  15. Switch to the small Vivo Fit band.
  16. Wear a belt.
  17. Jog a mile without stopping.
  18. Fit into only my side of the bench on Metro. I have actually hit this, but the true test will be with a winter coat on, so I’m not crossing it off the list yet.
  19. Cross my legs. I’ve never done this in my life.
  20. See my feet over my belly when I look down (standing still).
  21. Fit into roller coasters. I couldn’t do it at a theme park 2 years ago, and had to wait around for my friend to go through the line and ride it by herself — sucked for both of us. — I haven’t been to an amusement park since, so haven’t had the opportunity to test this out yet, but I suspect I could cross this off now.
  22. Do 250 miles in a month.

Watch this space.

*Some goals are too personal/embarrassing to publish, so I’m curating selectively.
**These were not on my list of goals, but they were notable milestones that I hit during this period.

by

DAY 149: Sore loser

Somehow, I have lost a respectable amount of weight over the past two weeks of ZERO GYM TIME WHATSOEVER.  Now that things are calm again and I am home bound for the next month, it’s past time to reincorporate and reprioritize my workouts into my daily routine.  So, last night, I went to the gym for the first time since August 5th.

WOW, you can lose strength quickly.

I did my usual self-designed circuit of arm weights, and everything felt noticeably heavier.  On top of that, I am sore today!  I haven’t been sore since the very first week I started doing strength training, and that was when everything was considerably lighter and I was considerably more out of shape.  I hope the weight I got rid of in gym absentia was really fat and not muscle mass!  (I mean, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t, but still.)  I’ve actually felt strangely guilty for having lost weight during my two weeks of vacation brain and OKCupid-ing, like I was somehow cheating by managing to drop the pounds while putting in almost no effort.  There’s fun, satisfaction, and pride in having earned it, ya know?  It feels a little cheap when it just goes away because you hit your steps goal.  NOT THAT I’M COMPLAINING.  OH MY GOD, BODY, DON’T CHANGE A THING.

Well, my arms have exactly one day to recover, because they’re getting werqed tomorrow, too.  Also tomorrow, I’m reuniting with the elliptical for the first time in 2 weeks.  I copped out yesterday because I had to get home by a certain time to meet a friend, and I avoided losing time to the shower by choosing strength over cardio.  😉

Incidentally, the friend I met up with last night has been effusive lately with the weight-loss praise.  She’s been telling me I’m pretty, I look great, I’m inspiring her, I’m this, I’m that, blah blah blah.  Well, it’s no secret that I don’t accept compliments well, particularly when it’s in person and from someone I care about, so she called me out on it when we were hanging out.  This is someone who usually struggles with being direct, and says it’s something she’s learning from me how to do.   This is also someone who has allowed me into her scary spaces, and I have not done the same with her.  I was cognizant of all of that in the moment, and thinking that I owed her the chance to understand me the way I understand her, and I thought, “You know what? It’s fearless time. Let’s go there.”

We ended up talking about the weight loss, the emotional sides of it, and why I’m so miserably awful at taking praise.  We also talked about dating, and how she couldn’t understand why I was shutting down and not trying harder with guys.  She kept saying I would have to get comfortable with attention from men because I’m only going to get more attractive as I lose weight and gain confidence, so why not get used to it with someone I’m not that into so the stakes stay low?  She said that in her experience, it’s empowering to snag a man when she’s not feeling that great about herself.

When she finished her rap, I explained that I know myself, and her approach is not gonna work for me.  First of all, I’m not gonna play with someone’s emotions to temporarily feel marginally better about myself physically (and that actually doesn’t do it for me, anyway), so that’s off the table.  Second of all, I told her I’ve been busting my ass the last few months trying to fall in love with myself.  It sounds corny as hell, but I need that to come from me, not from some man.  I’m the only one who’s gonna be with me until the day I die, and if I can’t truly say I love myself, what does it matter how many men said they did?  I haven’t felt like my real self in years.  YEARS.  I’m just now rediscovering my own worth.  It’s too fragile and too delicate for me to be misdirecting that emotional energy into another person, and getting my self-perception all tangled up in his perception of me.  I am NOT there, and I’m not gonna force myself to get there.  When I’m ready, I’ll know.  I trust that.  When I’m ready but I’m dragging my feet, I’ll know that, too, and I’ll push myself.  I trust that.  I’ve taught myself how.

Somehow, I got through that entire conversation without crying.  I got dangerously close, but I didn’t cry.  Crying is for people who are sad.  I am not sad.  I am hopeful.

When that part of the conversation came to a close, my friend looked at me, smiled, and said, “I’m not worried about you.”

I distinctly remember touching my collar bones when I replied, “I’m not worried about me, either.”

So, the emotional muscles are also getting werqed, but at least it doesn’t hurt anymore.