Tag Archives: non-scale victory

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NEW DAY 283: Big back and a side of thighs

It’s the last day of my Power 11 challenge. I’ve been consciously tracking quite a few metrics throughout the past 11 weeks to monitor my changes, but there have been some I couldn’t have predicted. Today, an unexpected moment cemented a trend I’ve been lightly observing over the past week, and I’m… still wrapping my head around it.

Earlier this week, I casually scooted my carseat when I got into the car. There was no thought involved. I got in the car, felt too far from the steering wheel, and moved the seat forward. Only once I’d started the car did it hit me how weird that was; I’m the only person who drives my vehicle, and my seat position hasn’t changed in… ever? Why would it? My height hasn’t changed, so why should an adjustment like this suddenly be necessary?

Oh. Because there’s less cushion behind me, forcing my body forward and out from the seat. The disappearance of that natural padding has required me to sit farther back in the seat, creating more distance between the wheel and the rest of my body. It makes sense… but it also makes no sense at all.

Later in the week, I took myself out for a walk through a touristy area near my office. I happened upon a t-shirt I liked and decided to buy it — but I spent several minutes debating what size to get. The XL looked huge. The L looked right. I ultimately opted for the XL, rationalizing that it’s better to have something be too big than too small, I could wear it over something else if it actually was too big, and it might shrink in the wash anyway.

Then today, my package arrived of the 2 maxi dresses I ordered as options to wear to an upcoming event. I tried them both on immediately, and just as immediately, saw that they were too big. Not just kind of too big; too big as in the elastic band under the bust on one of them wasn’t even making contact with my skin. That one is going back where it came from. (I’m keeping the other for a swimsuit cover-up.)

The kicker about those dresses is that I pored over the size chart for each one before choosing the size. The smaller size matched my latest measurements, but once again, I rationalized that most brands run small (in my experience), and I’m inept at taking my measurements, so I didn’t fully trust the numbers. I erred on the side of bigger, just to be safe.

On my walk today, I caught a glimpse of my lean-looking shadow moving with relative ease up and down the hilly terrain. It sent me onto a thought spiral of the way the skirt I wore earlier this week wasn’t clinging to my hips like it used to, the way my red pants swished instead of hugging the length of my legs the other day, and the way I can feel and see new contours in my thighs both in motion and at rest. (Seriously, all the divots and indentations and little bulges — the topography of my legs is a totally new frontier to me.)

This is all inescapable evidence that there is some serious recomp happening here. And even though I expected it, it’s messing with my head. Hell, even expecting it to mess with my head has not curbed the messing-with of my head.

It isn’t squaring for me. Does not compute. That’s why I keep catching myself hedging. I negotiate with reality in real time, just like I did in all 3 instances above where I was confronted with my physical changes.

I’ve watched myself get smaller. I’ve felt myself shrink. I’ve put in the work; it’s not like it’s a surprise, or something I didn’t very much want. Why am I resisting the evidence? Why so skeptical?

It’s a simple answer: this shit is crazy, and it can make a person feel crazy.
Just like going to the gym when I’m already exhausted —
Just like staying on the run when I’m out of breath —
Just like choosing the healthy food option over the convenient one —
This is a mental game much more than it is a physical one.

I’ve been a big back forever — since before “big back” was even a term. Someone who’s moving closer to the steering wheel, comfortably wearing size L clothing, and finding more power in her legs even as they shrink? That doesn’t sound like me.
I can see it. I can feel it. It makes sense… but it also makes no sense at all.

When I do my weekly weight check tomorrow morning, the scale may or may not reflect what I’ve been noticing since our last encounter. I don’t necessarily need it to. Either way, it will be capping off 11 weeks of a particular kind of focus. My weight loss from the past 10 weeks has actually not been that impressive, so I’m not expecting any remarkable drop to suddenly show up tomorrow morning and buck that trend. What I do think I’ll see tomorrow are some jaw-dropping side-by-side photos contrasting day 1 and day 77+1.

Regardless of what I see in the metrics or in the pictures, what I’m feeling now is a whole new level of embodiment. I struggle to articulate exactly what that means, and attempting to process it all internally is proving just as difficult. It’s hard because change is hard. But change — this kind of change — is also very, very good. Hard isn’t always bad.

I’m changing. A lot.

And I love that for me.

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NEW DAY 281: Legwork

I haven’t always been the kindest to my legs.

In addition to — and in no small part because of — the heavy load they’ve had to haul for nearly the entirety of their load-bearing lives, I’ve derided them for their too-wide-for-boots muscularity and unfeminine appearance. Disrespecting them for the appearance they took on as a direct result of the abuse I inflicted on my body, which became their burden. Classic insult to injury.

Since I’ve been losing weight and training for a half marathon, the demand on my legs has anything but lessened, even as my body mass has. The musculature is even more pronounced as my calves slim down. My knees have taken on a knobbiness they’ve never had before. There’s definition and shape developing as the muscles, tendons, and ligaments in my thighs develop and strengthen. My ankles are popping, and not in the injury-adjacent way the normally do.

My legs don’t look different, exactly; they look more unabashedly themselves.
And I’m learning to love them.

They’ve done a thankless job for decades. They may never look conventionally attractive. They may never fit into a cute autumn boot. They may never stop a speeding cab with their irresistible curvature. But they have always held me. They supported me. They carried me.
They are strong, and they are tireless.
They are perfectly mine.

Before? Hide the legs! Keep them out of others’ view! Pants year-round!
Now? Electric blue workout pants. Highlighter pink tights. Dresses. Skirts. Dare I say, SHORTS… coming soon.

This is the type of change that matters the most to me. I’m getting healthier mentally — and that’s been the entire purpose of all of this.

If I can learn to love my legs…

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NEW DAY 260: Downsizing

In a past life, when I was having success with weight loss, I used to do this thing where I’d buy a few articles of clothing a size down from where I was, every time I reached a new smallest size. Staying on top of the sartorial demands of slimming down is an expensive pursuit whose timing is unpredictable, so it helps to be prepared for it; my little gimmick helped not only to keep me motivated, but to keep me clothed. My big move was rifling through the sales and clearance racks for off-season finds that gave me a comfortable cushion, to the extent that the season-bound availability allowed. Every time I purchased a downsizing garment, I wrote the date on the tag, which remained attached until that piece fit. Once I could wear it and it became an official part of my wardrobe, it was a cool way to track the time between size changes that weren’t always congruent with the scale — and it came with a fun little ceremonial act of snipping off the tag.

Last night, while I was laying out my attire for today (to save me time in the morning), I found one such relic from that bygone era:

I tried on this skirt and it fit. With room to spare. (So yes, I wore it today.)

Seeing the date on the tag as I cut it off triggered a memory of a couple of other items I bought around the same time: two pairs of… shorts. 😱

I found them immediately, folded together in a tiny stack on a shelf in my closet: one a size 14, and the other a quixotic size 12. The tags aren’t dated, but I’m reasonably certain they were from around the same time as when I bought the skirt I wore today, if not from the same shopping trip.

These are the two smallest downsize items I have. This means two pretty big things:
1) I have never been as small as I am now.
2) I am about to enter a new frontier that I am literally not outfitted for.

I set both pairs of shorts out in plain view for subtle thinspiration. It was too soon to try on either of those sizes, having newly sized down into 16s. Maybe in another month or two, I’d be up for trying on those 14s. For now, those two pretty big things are a lot to absorb.

So when I got home from work today, in the skirt I was wearing for the first time since purchasing it more than 9 years ago — because I regained all the weight I’d lost before I got the chance to shrink into it — I wanted to make sure it wouldn’t also be the last. I picked up those size-14 shorts from their spot and held them up in front of me. The idea of fitting into them suddenly didn’t seem so outlandish.

And it wasn’t.

Because they fit.

Not perfectly. Not as flatteringly as they will after another few inches disappear from my hips and waist.
But the fastener closed.
The zipper slid right up.
Those shorts were on me.
And I was floored.

It’s truthfully a little nerve racking; I have no blueprint for this phase. I haven’t “been there before”. I don’t know what I’ll look like the next size down. I don’t know what I’ll feel like when those 12s are sliding on. I don’t know how things will fit me at clothing sizes I’ve never bought ahead, let alone worn. Most alarmingly, I don’t know for sure that I’m gonna make it to the next size below. There’s no precedent for any of that.

But I made the major choice at the outset that every minor choice I make in this process will support my overall health. I do know I won’t deviate from that, because there’s nothing but precedent for it — and a trove of powerful results that have come from it. I believe in what I’m doing. I may not be prepared for the next step down, but when I get there, I will be ready.

This is where the real emotional work begins. In the interest of always choosing my health, I’ve been laying track for months to support my psychological journey that will go right through the heart of this thing. It’s already been exhausting, and it’s not even at full speed yet. The beautiful thing I have going for me is the physical activity that keeps me mentally regulated. And that’s a full circle.

So I might as well complete another circle while I’m at it. New frontier sounds pretty great to me.

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NEW DAY 221: Blizzard!

I’m in the huge swath of the US that’s being pummeled with 24+ straight hours of falling snow. As I write this, my internet is verging on an outage that has lasted nearly half the day, so I’m tethering my phone in order to post this lest I fail my Power 11 tasks. BUT dropped wifi is the smallest inconvenience I can imagine of the many that had the potential to occur during this storm, so I am certainly not complaining!

Knowing that this crazy weather event was coming to paralyze us for at least a day or two, I reconfigured my half-marathon training plan to give myself a rest day today, and to make tomorrow a cross-training day so that I can do it from home. (Also, I’m considering the hours of shoveling I’ll be doing tomorrow as upper-body strength training, cuz clearing an entire driveway of a foot of heavy, wet snow is nothing if not a workout.) It kinda stinks to miss this stretch of days from actual proper running, but them’s the breaks. I’m adapting as best I can and staying active even if it looks different from “usual”. Between the snow and my end-of-week travel, this whole week is going to require some creative license, so it’ll be an adventure.

It can be a chore to coax myself out the door for a gym session sometimes, but truly the toughest piece of Power 11 so far has been limiting my weight checks to once per week. It’s been getting slightly easier, but sometimes the urge to peek is pretty strong, especially when I suspect I’ll like what I see. I’ve been noticing a lot of physical changes lately, which is usually an indicator of a friendly upcoming scale reading, so I was highly anticipating today’s weigh-in. Sure enough, I posted a drop of 3.4 lbs for this week!

This means a few big things:

  1. I am currently at my lowest weight in 10 years. My all-time lowest (real-adult) weight was from March 1st of 2016.
    • I’m 12.6 lbs away from that number.
    • By March 1st of this year, I should be below it. (🤯)
    • I will be below it.
  2. I am only 3.8 lbs away from being 100 lbs down from my highest recent weight, recorded about 11 months ago.
    • If I hit that milestone by a specific date within the next 3 weeks, it will be the ultimate redemption for me.
    • I’m comfortably on track to do it.
    • I’m gonna do it.
  3. I’m within spitting distance of Onederland. (Actual pounds away: 5.2 lbs. And now you know how much I weigh. And have weighed. 🫣)
    • Yeah — I unhid my weight on DietBet the other day.
    • I don’t have a specifically meaningful date in mind for this, but it’ll be sometime next month.
    • Something’s getting pierced after that.

I’d say I can’t believe it, except I totally can. My body is sore all over in that satisfying way that whispers, “yes, you did run 5 elliptical miles and then do 30 minutes of strength training yesterday.” My obliques are the sorest part of me, and that’s purely from actual running.

It feels so good to feel sore. I’m getting smaller, yes, but I’m also getting stronger and fitter. THAT’S what this type of soreness means. It means results. It means effectiveness. It means payoff.

Since I got serious about my health in mid-June of last year, I have lost 76.6 pounds. When June rolls back around this year, I will have lost more than 100 lbs, completed 75 Hard, finished Power 11, and crossed the finish line of a freakin’ half-marathon — all since the previous June.

January-2025 Me wouldn’t recognize Present-Day Me — physically or otherwise.

And that’s fucking transformation, baby.

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NEW DAY 217: Walk on

Today was my prescribed rest day for this week of Power 11. It came at a good time; each ankle had its own special little tantrum at different moments last night, so it was a well-timed moment for a break. I did end up doing 20 minutes on my walking pad at home after work, though, to make sure I hit my daily steps goal for the day. While doing that, I had a realization: my balance has crazy improved.

My first foray into the world of the walking pad was back in the fall when I was doing 75 Hard. My first walk, and all those I did subsequently, were unsteady. It wasn’t so much a walk as a stagger, like that fool at the office holiday party who had more than one too many trips to the spiked punch bowl and is in no way pulling off the ruse. I had to hold on to my raised standing desk just to make sure I didn’t tumble off backwards or sideways, even for a short walk at a low speed.

Today, for the first time, I didn’t have to hold on. I walked briskly (3.4 mph) for 20 minutes with zero contact — and, more excitingly, zero swerves or stumbles.

It’s not just that my balance has improved; my stamina and strength have, too. I am no longer the spitting image of a failed DUI traffic stop when I take to the walking pad; I’m a woman with purpose.

Fitting, after a year of staggering through uncertainty and hoping — and then working hard — to regain my footing.

Speaking of fitting, I used my lunch break today to take a tour of my “before” pieces. These relics of my most-enormous size are the equivalent of snacking on grapes when what you really want is M&Ms: because I am only weighing myself once a week on Power 11, I can’t sneak a peek at the scale on days when I’m feeling curious. (There’s a reason for this: I’m trying to break my obsession with that number so it won’t become my whole worth. I say this while actively working towards a rather aggressive goal with a deadline that’s precisely 3 weeks away, but I digress.) Instead of indulging my curiosity, I try on the couple of articles of clothing I’ve held on to that remind me of where I started, so I can see how far I’ve come.

Today, I fit into one leg of my size 24 “before” pants. And after stepping into it (still zipped) through the neck, my “before” dress slid off my shoulders and right onto the floor.

Funny how that instantly killed any interest I had in what the scale might have had to say.

And so I walk on… with purpose.

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NEW DAY 163: Thankful

Here’s a sentence that February-Me did not think my fingers would be typing in 2025: there are a lot of things to be thankful for this year. When it was my turn to share one of my points of gratitude around the Thanksgiving table this year, the one I went with was, “I am thankful that this year will be ending so much better than it started.”

It’s the healing emotional and psychological wounds from those violent first 3 months. It’s the tangible incoming changes I went after and earned in later parts of the year. It’s the exciting events on the horizon for myself and the people I care about. It’s the ability to believe in more good to come because of the good that is already here. It’s the way it all feels as a composite.

To keep the focus on health and weight loss, I took two grueling walks while staying with my parents for this holiday. The first was around their very hilly neighborhood: a 3-mile circuit I used to power walk in my late 20s that took about an hour, with some amount of difficulty. The last time I attempted it was on day 4 of 75 Hard this past summer. With the extra 48 lbs on my August body, it was a struggle; I truncated the distance to about half the full course and had to take frequent breaks to negotiate some of the most punishing hills, just to get through it a puffy, sweaty, depleted mess.
On Thanksgiving Day, I walked that full circuit without a single stop, including the final 20 minutes when it was lightly snowing. It was challenging and it demanded full cooperation from every muscle below my waist — and as a team, we met that challenge.

The second walk was from their house to the nearby park for a shorter but steeper set of hills. It’s been at least a month since I last trifled with the path that goes through the park, but more than 10 years since I tried to walk to the park from their home, which is also a hilly (and not super pedestrian friendly) route. This one’s total distance is about 2 miles, but takes about as long as the neighborhood one because of the unfavorable footing conditions and sharp inclines.
Today, I not only managed it in less than an hour — also in light snow — but I remained energized throughout the trek, which was not the case 5-6 weeks back when I last trudged that path.

This illustrates my notable progress on its own, but I also have to underscore what a big deal it is to have done so while still being a little cautious while still side-eyeing this bum ankle. Most importantly, though, I wanted to tackle those hills. I wanted to scale those steep grades. I wanted to conquer those paths.

A month ago, my attitude was still tentative, still hesitant, and still unconfident. Not anymore.

AND these exercise breaks were retreats and reward for myself, not annoying interruptions that I resented for cutting into my holiday family time and taking me away from an excuse to over-indulge in poor consumption choices. I looked forward to the walks for my mental recentering and welcomed the accompanying satisfaction and relief that came from completing them, and never thought about food at all.

Add to these little triumphs the experience of the meal itself, and it feels like a work of fiction. I had one normal-sized serving of each of the dishes I wanted rather than mounds of multiple helpings of sinful components at Thanksgiving dinner. When dessert came, I did opt for a little slice of my mom’s famous cheesecake — and I didn’t freak out. I spent zero seconds calculating calories or obsessing over sugar intake. Instead, I got to be present in the holiday moments with my family rather than trapped inside my head while I engaged in some sadistic battle of wits with temptation. And I got to go to bed feeling full, but not stuffed — and not at all deprived.

I had no temptation. I just had dinner.
And then dessert.

And then, no regrets.

Will I lose weight this week? I don’t know.

And for truly the first time EVER when I’ve been in Healthy Self Mode, I truly do not care.

What mattered to me this holiday was being able to enjoy it without the creeping anxiety of being surrounded by “dangerous” options.
Because I’ve spent the past 5 months learning how to trust myself, I got to do that.
And for that, I am deeply thankful.

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NEW DAY 129: 75-Hardened

I am officially 75 Hard verified.
🎈I did it!🎈

75 Hard truly lives up to its classification as a challenge: it is challenging. For me, it was not consistently so for the duration, but it had some distinct hallmarks of difficulty that really put me through my paces. The general breakdown was:

First third (days 1-25): Acclimation blossoming into excitement
The early days of adjustment were a little tricky. Day 4, I remember, was my hardest day. I barely slept the night before on top of trying to adapt to the rigor of twice-daily workouts while still living in an extra-obese body. After I made it through that day, I felt unstoppable. The remainder of this third after that was actually fun for me; I looked forward to both of my workouts each day, put tons of thought and care into my meal planning, and found pleasure in reconnecting with my Kindle even though what I was reading wasn’t particularly inspiring. I felt motivated and full of energy. I even remarked to my co-participant friend that I was glad we still had 50 days to go, because the normal 30-day length of most challenges seemed insufficient for experiencing any meaningful changes on this challenge. This was the honeymoon phase for sure, and in retrospect, it’s pretty great that it went on for a full third of the 75-day runtime.

Second third (days 26-50): Excitement converting into routine
As the novelty wore off, building my days around the essential aspects of 75 Hard became second nature to me. The luster of “OMG, I’m doing a beastly job of owning this thing like a badass!” gave way to more of an automatic process with no fanfare. I still embraced checking off my daily to-dos, but with a little less enthusiasm. In terms of the unexpected, this was the hardest part of the challenge for me: I got sick for a seemingly interminable duration (actual time: 14 human days) and felt completely drained from the resulting lack of sleep. However, this was also my most productive and milestone-laden third: I broke 5 miles on the elliptical for the first time in 7 years, and even hit a new personal best record of 6 miles while nearing the end of my sickness. It’s perhaps no wonder that the final third was so energy sapping.

Third third (days 51-75): Routine devolving into slog
It wasn’t a daily internal struggle to force myself into action, but I rarely welcomed workout #2 and found it harder to get energized for those early-morning outdoor workouts in the dark (and increasing cold) on my commuting days. I loved the way being 100% sugar free felt throughout the challenge, but the work required to keep it out of my way by some incidental contact was tiresome, and I resented how difficult it was (and the fact that it shouldn’t be — sardonic thanks to the SAD). As strongly as I believed 30 days wasn’t enough in the beginning, I believed 75 was pushing towards the “too long” side of things by this stage.

In terms of the 75 Hard components, my takeaways go a little something like this:

READING
This was my least-favorite part for the majority of the earlier days of 75 Hard. The problem was that I used the reading requirement as a way to force myself to read things I “should” rather than things I was truly interested in. I finally started reading what was truly of interest in the waning days of the second third, and it (unsurprisingly) made all the difference. My obvious advise to someone considering doing 75 Hard? Pick books you really want to read.

WATER
From day 1, this was the easiest part of my challenge. I’m a freak of nature who has been guzzling water at a high quantity for more than 20 years, so incorporating this aspect required zero extra effort from me; getting a gallon’s worth every day was already part of my life. I know what an advantage that is, because this is the part of 75 Hard that I’ve heard the most people complain about. It was certainly nice to have a piece of this be easy! If I had to give any advice to someone trying to adapt to consuming a gallon of water each day, I’d say try to get the first 25% out of the way before you even have breakfast — or at least before you finish breakfast. (I say 25% because I drink 4 32-oz bottles of water each day, which equals exactly one gallon; your mileage and calculations may vary depending on the size of your receptacle.) You’re dehydrated when you wake up, anyway; this will do you the favor not only of rehydrating yourself, but also of curbing your hunger early on and setting the tone for the rest of the day. Plus, it makes for lighter lifting on the water front as your day goes on. Oh, and get a bottle with a straw. Lack of straw makes life harder.

SELFIES
The dreaded confrontation of your seemingly changeless physical appearance. I didn’t love doing this, but I got used to it — and learned not to look at the pic again once it was safely saved. My guidance about this is to do it exactly this way. Also, wear workout clothes in each photo so it’s easier to see the body beneath them; wearing street clothes makes you look different every day as it is, and those clothes hang on you differently depending on cut, style, etc. Athletic clothes are form fitting, so when you actually do finally go back and review your progress photos, you will have an easier time seeing the changes. The one thing I wish I’d done that I didn’t was take pictures in profile as well as straight on, so I’d add that to my recommendations for this aspect.

FOOD
This is the element of 75 Hard that is customizable: you choose your meal plan at the beginning and never stray from it. I chose to consume no added sugar. I had been doing this inconsistently in the days leading up to my early-June reawakening to physical self-care, but got away from it during my 2-week vacation at the end of July and wanted to firmly commit to it. It was tough chiefly in terms of logistics, as I’ve already lamented plenty of times. I feel GREAT not having that toxic chemical in my body: I have no wild energy spikes and crashes, my teeth never feel filmy, everything has a greater depth of taste, I am more in control of my emotions (which are more naturally regulated without that grainy white poisin coursing through my veins), and my skin looks and feels amazing. I would sincerely love to be sugar free indefinitely; I’ll continue to avoid it as much as possible. To anyone considering starting 75 Hard, I’d encourage you to follow a diet that you’ve always wanted to try — but that only has one element to it: No carbs. No eating after 7 PM. 100 grams of protein a day. No added sugar. I would strongly discourage trying something like Whole 30 for 75 days; it’s both far too long for that madness, and far too many dietary requirements to manage, which is the last thing you’re gonna feel like doing when you’re already juggling multiple components of 75 Hard.

WORKOUTS
There’s not much more I would say here that I didn’t mention above. Keeping variety in my exercise made it sustainable and predominantly enjoyable throughout my experience. It’s exactly what I would advise for anyone doing 75 Hard. That also forced me to push myself past my comfort zone and try out different exercises. There were still plenty of days when I really had to harangue myself into doing my workout at least once — and I mean, I really didn’t have the drive to do it some days — but I did it. It’s well worth adding that I always felt good after every working, not least of all those I was resistant to doing in the first place. My body absolutely needed a rest by the end, and I felt that all over, but I never gave in to that feeling. Sticking to the twice-daily workouts is the proudest part of my success on this challenge for me.

MY TOOLS FOR SUCCESS

  • Daily checklist. At the very beginning of the challenge, I used a blank 2-page spread in an old date book to create a task tracker for each day of 75 Hard. This was an instant staple of my daily routine, ensuring that I never missed completing any of my daily tasks. There are tons of templates online, but I enjoyed making and using my own.
  • Accountability. I started the challenge with another person, and also made it known to people I see/spend time with often that I was doing this. That made it easier to stick to my routine, especially my meal plan.
  • “No excuses” mentality. I made a commitment to do this challenge, and to finish it. I entered it willingly and with full knowledge that it would require a lot of time and a lot of planning. There was no reason I couldn’t hack it; I am responsible for myself, and no one else depends on me. (People with family members who rely on them or seriously overfilled dance cards, I don’t know how you manage to do 75 Hard. Truly.) With intentionality and organization, there was no problem that a little organization couldn’t solve. That doesn’t mean it was easy, but my zero-tolerance policy on copping out was iron clad from the beginning. I whined sometimes, but I never sought a way off the hook.
  • Insisting on fun. Sure, it’s a challenge, but that doesn’t mean fun is off the table! In fact, amusement becomes all the more important when you are pushing yourself to do hard things. When the grind got stale, I did what I could to infuse novelty. Finding new places to do the same outdoor workout, trying new types of exercises, listening to new playlists — the experimentation was all worthwhile, and ultimately necessary.

You may be wondering about my actual results from 75 Hard. I was really eager to see them myself! So, without further ado…

THE STATS
Workouts: 150 (4 rainy)
Progress pics: 75
Gallons of water: 85+
Days sick: 14
MPH increased, treadmill walking pace: .5 mile (from 2.6 to 3.1 mph)
Minutes on elliptical without stopping: doubled from 30 to 60
Books read: 7.5
Rest days: 0
Alcohol consumed: 0
Added sugar consumed: 0
DietBets won: 6 kickstarters and 2 rounds of a transformer
Weight lost: 38.8 pounds

THE OVERALL/FINAL THOUGHTS
I’m not going to say that I can’t believe I did it. I can believe it, and I knew I would. It was hard and I did it anyway. It got harder and I toughed it out. That feels flippin’ great.

Doing this did teach me a lot, though, and not just about “mental toughness”.
The rigidity of the challenge’s parameters forced me to be flexible when unforeseen events disrupted my plans: I learned to tap into my patience when that happened.
The inevitability of discoverability of my doing this because of my crazy schedule and highly conspicuous nutritional needs necessitated that I share my endeavor with those around me: I learned to show a little vulnerability by allowing people in on this adventure, and also learned that this is a form of support that ended up benefiting me.
Working out so much doubled my daily opportunity for stress regulation AND for the flow state that comes from that mental clarity: I learned cleaner ways of problem solving, and also learned that this is a conduit of creativity for me.
Eliminating sugar got me hyper-focused on diet and nourishment: I learned a ton of scientific and historical information that made me a better-informed consumer and minder of my own health.
The list could go on.

And stats-wise? Ohhhhh, yeah — I’m very pleased with my showing. I had hoped to hit a nice round 40 pounds lost, but 38.8 is nothing to sneeze at. Being clean of sugar feels outstanding, as does having read so many books and completing 150 (!) workouts. What feels best, though, is seeing the difference on the face of Day 13 Me and Day 62 Me. Yes, there’s a lot that’s noteworthy in the comparison between my progress pics from day 1 vs day 75, but the stark contrast and the unexpectedness of seeing it for the first time when I happened to look at 13/62 side by side while the challenge was still on, was a key moment of 75 Hard for me — and, truthfully, of my health journey overall. I hope that as my hard work continues, I will continue to see a discernible shift in my natural expression that indicates a positive adjustment in my mental health. That’s the real prize in all of this, and the one I’m most eager to wrap my arms around.

So, I can now say for the rest of my days that I am a 75 Hard finisher. No technicalities. No exceptions. No loopholes. No ifs, ands, or buts. Just earned bragging rights for life. I almost typed “And that’s enough — no need to do it again!” Then I remembered I’m half cracked, and I should never say never.

Because another thing I never thought I’d say is, “and now, I turn my attention to training for a half-marathon!” But here I am. Saying that.

But first: rest.

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NEW DAY 110: Shadowy figures

For the second week in a row, my weight loss wasn’t what I was hoping for.

It’s true that any loss is a move in the right direction — and objectively, the amount I shed this past week was an amount I’ll probably kill to have a few months from now — but the back-to-back modest decreases on the scale seem unaligned with the effort (and exhaustion) I’ve put in for the past two weeks.

As always, I try to keep perspective: weight loss during 75 Hard is a happy byproduct, not the primary goal. I’m working on my mental toughness and keeping commitments to myself, and I’m coming through on those fronts so far. That said, I’d be lying if I claimed to have no hoped-for final total number of lost pounds in mind for this challenge — and it’s hard not to fixate on that alongside my personally disappointing numbers from the past two weeks.

BUT there are plenty of other positives to focus on. For one, I’ve racked up another official DietBet victory as of today, and am only 1.1 pound away from winning the Kickstarter that ends a week from now. I’ve persisted with 75 Hard (day 58, baby!) and continued to prioritize my health. And, most excitingly, I’m seeing more and more evidence of the physical changes in my body.

Over the weekend, I tried on 7 dresses that didn’t fit when I first started 75 Hard. Three of them now fit, and the other 4 should by the time the challenge is over. I found my very old fat pants and saw tonight that they’re too big at the waist by about 6 inches. I’ve moved a ring I’ve been wearing on my ring finger to my middle finger so it won’t slide off. I can see more bones in my hands and feet. Perhaps most unexpectedly and strangest of all: my shadow looks thinner.

Now I know that shadows aren’t the best metric of, well, anything. But I’ve been staring at mine during outdoor workouts for nearly 2 full months as it walks, jogs, and dances alongside me. During these outings, I’ve seen the bulges and pudge accentuated by the sun in ways that not even the mirror is cruel enough to shove in my face so mercilessly. Suddenly, this week, there’s, like… a whole lot less of that.

My figure is smoother. It’s not just that it moves more fluidly; its lines are more continuous. It’s more graceful, less bulky, and somehow more confident. It’s perhaps a strange thing to notice, but it’s also an impossible one not to.

It’s important to pay attention to how all of the normal markers are changing during a weight-loss mission. Non-scale victories are validating and affirming when the numbers don’t feel satisfying, and they’re helpful data beyond the unreliable narrator that is That Number. Things that keep me sane are pretty worthwhile, I’ve found, so I’ll always welcome them with open arms — even if some might call them a little shady. 😉

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NEW DAY 93 Five point two two

I broke 5 miles on the elliptical tonight. In one hour, I ran 5.22 miles.

I haven’t done that since 2017.

Truthfully, I didn’t know if I would ever be able to do it again until recently. But tonight, I decided I wanted to do it. And then I did it.

At 4.25 miles, I knew I was going to do it — and I almost started crying right there on the machine.

But I didn’t. I just kept running.

It felt INCREDIBLE to hit 5 miles again all these years later, all this weight — physical and emotional — heavier, all these years older. But part of why I knew I could do it tonight is that I’d done it before. Even being still sick and fairly worn out from a long week, I knew I could do it.

When the day comes that I can breach new territory and do 6 miles, I will cry. It will be the happiest I’ve ever been on the elliptical.

For now, that honor belongs to tonight.

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DAY 026: Tearing myself a new one

At some point last winter, I noticed a pain in my left bicep during certain normal movements.  Raising my arms in certain ways hurt, lifting certain things in certain ways hurt, and even certain light Zumba arm moves hurt.  It eventually became painful to sleep on my left side, which is my usual position.  The only thing I could conclude was that I had somehow torn a muscle.  Although I didn’t have any kind of scan done, my (new and less wonderful) doctor confirmed it when I saw her for the first time in May for a physical.

I’ve been doing independent weight training on my arms since I started this weight-loss party back in March 2015.  I have always been careful with controlling the motion of anything I lifted, taking it slow, and making sure the weight isn’t too much.  I somehow still managed to hurt myself pretty severely.  The best I can figure is that when I started doing arms again after enough of a hiatus to decrease my strength, I worked out as if I had never stopped and over-exerted my muscles when I should have ratcheted down the amount of weight I was lifting.  Muscles are built by a process of tearing and rebuilding, but when a tear comes from an injury, it’s not magically healed by a protein bar.  It needs to rest until it’s ready to work again.  You can’t rush it.

The doctor told me in May to stop with arms weights until my bicep was healed.  Foolishly, I gave it a week and then resumed my normal circuits in spite of the persistent pain.  The only reason I ended up stopping is because I abandoned health altogether when things got rough in the fall.

A year later, I’m finally healed.  I hit my arms circuit last night for the first time in several months.  I was a little tentative and ginger at the beginning of my workout, especially when it came to the exercises that really used to hurt when my muscle was damaged.  But you know what?  I feel good today.  I have the satisfying soreness from a good burn, but no pain.  Soreness is fine, but there should never be pain.  Got it.  No more being stupid.  But also… I forgive you, past self.

On Tuesday, I was chatting with a friend as we were leaving work together.  She asked, “Are you dieting?”  I said, “I’m eating right.”  She said, “Your face looks good.”

And that’s where it starts.

Hello, saddle.  It’s good to be back.