Tag Archives: self-referential

by

NEW DAY 244: The path

Months ago, I predicted that I would reach a point in my weight loss where the emotional dam would break, unleashing decades of emotions locked away behind body armor I’ve packed on as excess weight.

That time has come.

I have been going through it lately. I have cried every day since Saturday for one reason or another — or, more likely, for a nice big tangle of reasons knotted together by tenuous, anachronistic threads that barely make sense as part of the same weave.

Drastic weight loss? It’s… forgive me… heavy.

Seeing myself in the mirror feels like an elaborate prank. Sometimes I look so small, I can’t reconcile my reflection with the image of myself that lives in my mind. Other times, I still look so huge that the amount of work I have left to do seems nearly undoable.

Getting dressed is a gamble. If the pants fit my waist, will they be too tight in the calves and consequently spend the day being pulled down by the war between my limbs and my trunk? Will the underwear that sags in the ass still cling to my hips? If it clings to my hips, will my ass be too big for it? If the bra band is snug enough, are my boobs spilling out over the sides? If the neckline of my top looks right on the shoulders, will it still be too tight around my midsection when I sit down? If the dress hugs my curves, will it accentuate the bulge from my recently adjusted bra band and downsized tights squeezing my stomach? And don’t even get me started on the legs.

But the real mind fuck is the fucking mind.

I am approaching a size I have never been as an adult. The associations I have to that body are not positive. It was not a time when I felt safe, sure, or seen. I blame the grown people in my life for not helping me. I blame the people around me of all ages for not seeing what was going on. I blame society for normalizing the pressure on young girls such that the unhealthy ways they cope with it are easy to go undetected.

And I blame myself for letting things get so bad that it cost me.

It cost me my health. It cost me experiences. It cost me closeness. It cost me understanding of self-care and self-love. It cost me peace. It cost me good decisions. It cost me years of life I can’t change.

None of that resentment is productive. It might not even be entirely fair. But I feel it all the same. I feel it with the weight of decades and pounds of body fat that I did not put on consciously, but that I now am consciously taking off.
It padded me, but did not protect me.
It fucking hurts.

So I’m wandering around like an exposed nerve, hell bent on surrendering no ground on my half marathon training, because showing up matters to me. But today, after crying throughout therapy for the first time and wiping silent tears from my eyes for the rest of the afternoon in front of my work computer, I realized: this is not a knot I can untangle in an hour with a 7-mile run on the elliptical. Being low-key competitive with the people around me at the gym would not soothe this ache.

I needed to go outside.

It was nearly 60° today, and there was enough sunlight by late afternoon that it wound up being a great opportunity for my first trail walk of the year. It was treacherous; the foot+ of snow we got last month has not been cleared, leaving it to melt on its own. The freeze-thaw cycle and intermittent sun has created a soggy, muddy, slippery network of pathways that are clear in some places, frosted over in others, and wet everywhere else. The climb to the top of the trailhead was almost too much for my worn-in sneakers. With ankle concerns fresh on my mind, I nearly turned back; if the entire trail was going to be like this, it seemed imprudent to risk a fall.

But I thought, I’ll be careful. Maybe it’s not like this the whole way. Maybe it clears up later.

So I pressed on. I slid a little once or twice, but I was careful. It wasn’t like that the whole way. There were clear parts.

Then I got to this point.

And something about it struck me.

This was the thing:

Choose your metaphor.

The punctuation mark of this outdoor trek was at the very end. On my first venture to this part of the trail in the summer, I took a spill and did some damage to my knee — which also got infected. At that very same spot where I fell, there is now a 2.5′ x 4′ puddle of ankle-deep water from melted snow. The only way back to my car from there was either through that small lake, or all the way back up through the treacherous trail. I spent a fraction of a second verifying that there were no ways around the pool of melt, and then I trudged right through it. It was frigid and sloshy, but I didn’t care. A few minutes later, I was driving my soaked feet home to a warm shower, weighing the same amount yet unquantifiably lighter.

Emotional excavation is hard work. It requires a type of fortitude you don’t get by turning away from rough roads and uncomfortable obstacles on your path. It’s exhausting. It has no timeline. It fucking hurts. But if you keep going, carefully, it might not be like that the whole way. It might clear up later. You might even come out lighter.

by

NEW DAY 242: Talking body

The past full week tested me.

I saw the scale dip below 200 lbs for the first time in 10 years. I did this mid-week weigh-in specifically because I had my August 11th – February 10th weigh-out to do, which is *the* exception to my Power 11 rule about only doing once weekly weight checks (on Sundays). I handily won that Transformer, going from 268.4 pounds in August to 202.8 pounds on February 11th1 — nearly 2.5 times more than what I needed to lose. Even better, it was the most I’ve ever raked in from a Transformer bet: $343.70! Conversely, it was the smallest group of people I’ve ever played with in a Transformer bet, and possibly any DB at all — so it was a VERY pleasant surprise to clean up like that! My theory is that people signed up for it in August and either lost track of it with the calendar busy-ness between start and end dates, or they fell victim to it: back to school, Labor Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, and all the functions, parties, events, and promotions that come along with all those occasions.


It’s always a great day to collect. And I felt pretty proud to review these 6 months of pretty fantastic effort and results.

But the good times ended there.

At the beginning of the week, I was contending with intense lower back pain that seemed to hit out of nowhere last Saturday when I woke up. It followed me into Sunday and Monday, and finally fucked off on Tuesday after some desperate interventions I made on Monday night that either paid off quickly or perfectly coincided with the natural ending of the pain. One of those was changing from sleeping on two pillows to sleeping on only one pillow. After losing 100 pounds, my shoulders are narrower, which means I don’t need a stack of pillows to properly support my neck as a side sleeper. I never thought about it until my back started complaining, but I made that adjustment and not only slept better, but woke up on Tuesday with no pain. I felt rejuvenated enough on Tuesday to hit a PBR on the elliptical in my workout that evening: 7.05 miles in one hour on the elliptical. Woohoo!

On Thursday, I had a bit of an emotional hangover from putting myself through some mental health processing work on Wednesday night. It was a positive development overall that came from that, but it did leave me wrung out on Thursday — which consequently felt like a VERY long day. Friday also kind of dragged, but it ended with dinner with a friend I hadn’t seen since the end of June. Catching up with her was lovely and a much needed top-off of my social cup. (And yes, she was floored to see how different I look now!)

Yesterday was the roughest, though. I woke up with my period, which is a bit of a mixed-bag way to wake up. Now that my cycle has seemingly regulated itself, I feel this intense relief, joy, and gratitude when it shows up… and I also feel a bit of apprehension about it. Will it be debilitatingly heavy? Will the pain immobilize me? Then this spins out into feeling that I don’t even have the right to complain about any of the downsides, because I’m lucky to even be having a period now. (Yes, I have managed to emotionally complicate menstruation. Welcome to my mind.)

Anyway, I went for my haircut and lunch with a friend as planned, and everything was fine. Unfortunately, it all took a turn into death by a thousand cuts when I got to the gym for what was supposed to be my half-marathon training session where I’d be running 25 minutes straight for the first time, after multiple missed attempts at this since last week. Spoiler alert: it didn’t happen again. I got on the treadmill to do the damn thing, and my ankle instantly started whining. I figured I’d try to run anyway; it’s about 50/50 whether the pain subsides or not when I give it a shot when this happens. In the final minute of my warm-up walk, someone decided that the machine beside mine was The One — out of all the unoccupied machines beside absolutely no one in the gym that afternoon — they needed to use. Um, no, ma’am. So I hopped off and changed to a different machine that was apparently not good enough for her. I started my run speed, and my ankle all but tea-kettle screamed at me. I tried a couple of minutes, a couple of foot placement changes, trying to see if it would loosen up… but it wouldn’t. So I had to stop.

I was pissed.

But I was at the gym, and the second half of my planned workout for the day was strength training. I was able to complete my circuit without event, but my earbuds did die two minutes into the first exercise. That’s annoying on its own, but I had JUST charged the suckers because this same nonsense happened earlier in the week. Between reps, I was rage-ordering a USB-C wired pair when I realized that not only was my ankle was still making its displeasure known, but my head had joined in. I suddenly felt the pain of a raging headache that was going precisely nowhere. I used to get headaches pretty regularly, but since I’ve started exercising every day, they’ve been a rare misery. When they hit, though… ugh. Right on cue, I moved to my next machine and felt violent cramps join the full-on assault my body was now waging against me.

This gym session was cursed.

That’s when I decided two things:
1) I was absolutely finishing this strength training, unless my limbs fell the entire fuck off; and
2) My evening plans were not happening.

I did finish the arm weights. With sincere apologies, I did cancel my dinner.

And then I went home, did the barest of minimums of prep work, ate what could passably be called dinner, dosed up on Excedrin PM, and promptly passed out on the couch with my ankle icing and propped up.

When I woke up some time later, my headache had not subsided at all. The recommended amount of time between doses had not passed, but I had no energy and no fucks left to give. I popped two more pills, crawled on top of the heating pad in my bed, and was asleep before 8 PM.

And there I stayed for the next 13 hours.

I woke up today feeling a million times better: no trace of a headache, an appeased ankle, and weaker cramps. I’ve been able to be as productive as I needed to be today to make up for the total unproductiveness of yesterday, and my whole list is now accomplished as of almost 6 PM: 2 loads of laundry, 3 meals prepped and snacks pre-portioned for the week, dishes cleaned and put away, and Power 11 Sunday tasks completed. I also went on a brief social call to atone for my last-minute jilt last night, got gas in my car, and transferred the contents of my work bag that broke this week (because of course!) into the replacement for it I ordered that arrived today.

After the weird week I’ve had, it’s no surprise that my total weight loss this week was 0.6 pounds. It’s frustrating, but not terribly; I am a walking skin sack of bloat, sleepiness, and emotional wear. I did the best I could at balancing my training against what my body told me it needed this week, and I can’t expect the scale to reflect that. And now, that week is over. I am letting this Sunday sunset with my yummy dinner, then taking my cramps to bed before they start biting again.

The most important thing I have learned over the past few months is that when my body talks, I need to listen. Feeling a little behind in my training is the price of admission for ensuring I don’t sideline myself for days or weeks because I was trying to prove the wrong point.

One positive thing I can say with full force is that even though this week tried my patience, disrupted my plans, and forced me into what feels like stalled progress, I have NOT fallen into past traps.
I didn’t get angry and storm out of the gym, costing myself any amount of movement altogether.
I didn’t push myself to keep plans — with myself or with others — that would have involved suffering for me.
Most importantly, I never once reached for comfort in the form of sugar-coated sabotage.

I’ve said it before, and I repeat it for a reason: that’s how I know I’ve changed. Unhealthy food doesn’t solve my problems. It is was my problems.

My body doesn’t want bad food that tastes good. My body wants care.

Some days go smoothly.
Some days go roughly.

All I can do is keep going safely.

I trust myself now. Nothing feels better than that.

  1. If you are reading this and noticing that 202.8 pounds is not below 200 lbs — yes. My below weigh-in at 198 was at 5:30 AM, after a pee, nothing new in my system, and buck-ass naked. This is not how I usually weigh in; my typical checks are between lunch and dinner, fully clothed. I have to submit photos for DietBet, so I follow their guidelines in my normal weigh-ins for consistency across my own records. Why the change, then? Because this milestone was important for me, and I wanted to do it this way. Enough said. ↩︎
by

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.

by

NEW DAY 214: Power 11, week 1

Hello from Power 11, day 8! I just completed my weekly tasks and am taking a beat to catch up on some chores while my lunch digests, before I head to the gym for my half-marathon training session and then an early dinner with a friend. Since I started this challenge last week, I have lost 5.25 inches and 6.4 pounds. This may seem high, which is why context is important: I had period bloat when I weighed in last Sunday, as well as a cold — so that likely artificially inflated some of my starting numbers. There’s also a known phenomenon that the first week of any major diet and exercise regimen shows a huge change that typically levels out in a lower second week. The true reflection of what may be “normal” typically appears in week 3. That said, I put in the work this week and my effort mattered. I feel encouraged by these early signs of progress and am looking forward to continuing to chart my progress for the remaining 10 weeks.

I’ve kept on track with the rest of the challenge, too. Separating the selfies and metrics into a once-weekly task has been a notable plus for me so far, and I’ve had a manageable time with hitting my daily goals. Since I’ve been getting over a cold this week, it hasn’t been the most favorable moment to do any extra workouts, but I look forward to feeling more energized so that I can incorporate a few bonus outdoor walks into my days here and there; I found the fresh-air activity so beneficial to me during 75 Hard. Winter is wintering pretty hard out there, but I enjoy time in the elements, irrespective of the season (albeit with more whining involved during summer months)! My recovery should be complete pretty soon thanks to some extra rest I’ve been able to get, which I would not have been able to get on 75 Hard.

It hasn’t been easy to come up with the motivation to get my ass in gear every day, but I’ve found ways to do it. My commitment is firm, and it helps to know that I always feel good after a workout.

I’m excited to see what results this challenge yields on day 78! Until then, it’s go, go, go.

by

NEW DAY 206: Hindsight is 2025

Last year was easily one of the worst of my life.

I spent the first few months of the year navigating sudden change, loss, and pain. I had concurrent health setbacks, financial hardship, and broken confidence that were exacerbated by that situation. I was completely demoralized and in absolute misery. It took months of hard work to get back on my feet, both figuratively and literally.

It was ugly.
It was painful.
I struggled through it.
But I did it.

Finally, in June, I had my turning point. I had put enough distance between myself and the traumatic events — as well as enough effort into recovering from them — that I was ready to take my power back. I embraced the idea of saying yes and dedicated the rest of the year to the things I wanted to reclaim: my story, my happiness, my strength, and my agency. The key to this was my mental health, and the key to that was my physical health. That’s how, just a little more than 7 short months ago, I found myself tentatively skulking back into the gym and telling myself I needed to make it through just 5 minutes on the elliptical. At the time, I could scarcely trek the distance from my parking space to the gym without getting winded, so that seemed like a tall order. And it was.

It was ugly.
It was painful.
I struggled through it.
But I did it.

And I kept doing it. For the rest of the year.

That has enabled me to experience a normal quality of life again. In the past 3 weeks alone, I have traveled internationally (via airplane in an economy class seat whose seatbelt I easily buckled for the first time in over a year), run 20 continuous minutes while on vacation, and completed a hilly outdoor 5K (walking). To say these things would have been impossible at this time last year is so true that it feels like it could somehow be an understatement. But in the here and now? It was a breeze, and I didn’t have to think about it at all in real time.

I can’t imagine myself ever being grateful for what happened to me as a result of others’ decisions in early 2025. None of it was logical, fair, or deserved. Part of me is still in disbelief about it. But I am grateful for what I ultimately decided to do about it. And I fully intend to continue along that path in 2026.

If the theme of last year was Reclaim and Recover, this year is about integration. All of the lessons I’ve learned and strides I’ve made for my health have been important, but isolating that progress from the precipitating events is not sustainable. I have to make peace with the past in order to advance towards the future I want. The only way to do that is by accepting and processing it all — not just from last year, but from all the years that came before it that I’m still carrying in the remaining extra weight on my body.

It’s time to really heal.

It might be ugly.
It might be painful.
I might struggle through it.
But I will do it.

by

NEW DAY 159: Roller coastering

As much as last Sunday was unintentionally awesome, last Wednesday was unintentionally horrendous.

Between manufactured work drama (and the resulting stress), exhaustion from barely sleeping the previous few nights, and life life-ing, the day didn’t really stand much of a chance. Unfortunately, it culminated in an ankle injury when I tried to mitigate all of that by running outside before I was ready. So yeah, it found a way to get worse!

It’s my fault I tweaked my always-ready-to-act-up ankle. Having only myself to blame makes the thing that made it all worse, worse.

I’ll skip the part where I whine for several days about being sidelined and losing the centerpiece of my emotional regulation while my angry ankle threw its tantrum. I made a wise adult decision and gave myself the day off on Thursday to rest, in every sense. It was the best choice I could have made, and I am beyond glad I made it.

The week ended on a decisive upswing, but I had to continue to pause my half marathon training to ensure I wouldn’t aggravate my temperamental joint, which hurt well into the weekend. Today, I finally felt it was strong enough to tolerate an outdoor walk on the hilly trails, and it seems to be holding up well in the aftermath so far — even after walking the long path the fastest I ever have. If I have no protests from it the rest of the day, I’m going to take myself back to the gym tonight. I don’t want to push too hard, but I really don’t want to lose more training days than necessary, either.

I did get some good news today: I won my Kickstarter that ended yesterday, AND the DietBet scrutiny has been lifted!

It doesn’t even stop there for DB, although this next bit of good news is qualified:

This is my current progress for the Transformer that ends on February 10th. Looks pretty great, right? But here’s why it’s qualified:

It’s currently about halfway through round 4, and I’ve lost 20% of my starting weight as of this morning’s DB weigh-out for that Kickstarter. I am nowhere near the risk of losing 12% within a single month, but I’m looking out to that round 6 disqualification figure and seeing the very real possibility of exceeding the 30% drop limit by that point. The math maths.

HOWEVER…

It’s not a foregone conclusion. There are some major holidays coming up between now and then, as well as a 2-week trip I’m taking at the end of the year. There’s not so much a threat to my eating as there is to my normal activity level, but it could be enough to put the brakes on. Plus, this progress will naturally hit the skids at some point. When I start strength training, building muscle will slow the drops on the scale. And just generally speaking, this clip is unsustainable. Or at least, you’d think so — but bodies seem to REALLY hate sugar, and they party like crazy when it’s gone. With very little exercise between my Sunday-to-Sunday weigh-in days, mine still coughed up 4.2 lbs. I’m not saying I wasn’t still making an effort during what felt a bit like a lost week, but it was not the level of intensity I’d planned when it started, and still this big number showed up for me.

Anyway, I’ll be keeping an eye on all of this, of course. It’s a lot to manage, but hey — that’s life life-ing for ya.

by

NEW DAY 151: Milestones update

Today was unintentionally awesome.

I had a new DietBet to weigh in for, and a gym session planned for later, so I figured I’d get into my workout clothes and do the weigh-in right before it was time to head out. With my weigh-ins under more scrutiny these days, I wanted to make sure what I was wearing wasn’t too baggy. Since all of my go-to tops are laughably loose these days, I went into my workout shirts drawer and found a top that I remember fitting when I was last around my current weight many moons ago, although it seemed unlikely to fit when I held it up in front of me. I tried it on, and… to my complete and total shock, it not only fit, but it was also roomy! This top is more hanging off me than I am wearing it. I think that has to do with the way my weight loss has been working this time around: my shoulders narrowed at a much greater clip than the rest of my torso, so tops are a bit of a challenge right now. Work-out tops in particular tend to slide off my shoulders and feel flowy around my midsection, while somehow still also kind of fitting in that area. It’s tough to explain, but suffice it to say, nothing really fits at the moment. Anyway, even with that all going on, it was a fabulous surprise to have blazed right through the time when that top would have mostly fit, and right into looseness. I’ll wear it until it, too, becomes an almost-dress. (And good news: my DB weigh-in was accepted. Two more video weigh-ins to go!)

Then, it was off to the gym. Today’s workout in my half marathon training plan was scheduled to be cross-training, so I went to my old friend, the elliptical. I don’t know what had me all fired up, but I was immediately hitting the pace that it usually takes me the first 20-30 minutes to work up to — and I sustained or exceeded it for the entire time. Now, when I say “the entire time”, that wound up being far more than the 45-60 minutes I’d budgeted, because I had one of my classic evil elliptical thoughts within the first 5 minutes. And I fulfilled that evil thought by making today, the day I broke 8 miles.

To add some personal WOW to that, I notched those 8(.02, to be exact) miles in 76 minutes, which is a 9:29 pace. This is a personal best pace, elapsed time, AND distance.

I have never run a 10-minute mile on flat land, let alone under 10 minutes. As I am discovering through my treadmill trainings to work up to half-marathon-level endurance, what happens on the elliptical has virtually no bearing on what happens on an actual surface: the motion is different, the muscle coordination is distinct, and speed does not translate at all. Even with all that being true, it’s a BFD that I did this. That I can do this. Because 5 months ago, I couldn’t even keep the elliptical moving — at any speed — for 5 minutes, let alone 5 miles — or 8. I’m only now working up to sustain a full mile-run in one go on the treadmill. But my elliptical history tells me that when the half marathon is almost upon us 5 months from now, I’ll be ready for it.

The type of run I do on the elliptical may be dissimilar from the type of run I do on the treadmill, but the perseverance, self-coaching, and physical stamina apply across all types of fitness training. The beginning was slow on the elliptical, and I approached it intentionally and methodically, knowing it would take whatever time it would take. The result? I couldn’t hit a full mile for a while, and I unfortunately wasn’t recording these milestones yet — but I got there in a few hard-earned weeks. And then, it wasn’t long until I hit 2.
I hit 3.5 — breaking 3 for the first time — on August 19th, which was 2 months after I started my NEW DAYS.
I broke 4 just 2 weeks later, on September 2nd.
My goal at the time was to break 5 by the end of this year. Instead, I did it on September 19th.
Then I broke 6 later that same week, on the 23rd.
I thought that’d be plenty; I’d proven my point.
But then, on October 28th, I hit 7 — just a little over a month later.
And now, just under 3 weeks beyond that, 8.

Progress has a way of being self-perpetuating and exponential. I had no plan for hitting a certain mileage on the elliptical, and certainly no targeted date for doing it. I let the rhythm carry me, responded to my bursts of energy, and was realistic about checking in with my body and its radical ideas about taking me farther and faster. It hasn’t steered me wrong yet.

While I do have a training plan for running the halfer, I am still being agile and adjusting as necessary. I’ve already ratcheted things up a little here in the first week of training, but not in any kind of unrealistic or unsustainable way. It will still take me a while to be able to run an uninterrupted mile, and the pace will be unimpressive; but I’ll get there.
And then, it won’t be long until I hit 2.
Then 3.
Then 13.1.

I didn’t think I’d be genuinely excited about training for a half marathon, but… I am genuinely excited about training for a half marathon.

I missed the 50-day milestones update yesterday, so I’ll rattle off a few here:

  • Since February 20th, I have lost 80.4 lbs.
  • Since June 18th (the start of NEW DAYS), I have lost 60.8 of those lbs.
  • I’ve gone from being able to run barely 5 minutes, to 76 minutes (on the elliptical).
  • I’ve dropped from a snug 26 pants size, to a loose 18.
  • I’ve gone down 2 underwear sizes and 1 sports bra size.
  • I’ve dropped from a 3X shirt size to — depending on the manufacturer — L or XL.

But the most exciting stat is unquantifiable: I feel better. Actually better. In every way a person can feel any kind of way.

My theme for this chapter of my life is Reclaim. I am nowhere close to being done, but I am so proud of how well I’ve done with honoring that theme without wavering for the past 5 months.

I actually truly believe I can do this. I can see myself crossing the literal half marathon finish line, and the figurative finish line of this mission I have set for myself to reach a healthy size. It’s just… incredible. It’s a feeling I’ve never had before, and it has me absolutely floored. I don’t know what to do with it.

So I’ll just keep going.

by

NEW DAY 146: Too fast?

Last week, when I was weighing out for a Kickstarter, I got an email from DietBet saying that their algorithm had “flagged [my] account due to unusual weight loss patterns.” At first, I was kind of offended. How dare they impugn my integrity! Then I paused and realized… yeah, dropping 45 pounds in 3 months is a reasonable thing to raise a non-sentient eyebrow over. And that’s only the weight loss they can see; from late February to the time of my composing this sentence, I’ve actually lost 80.4 lbs.

It made me step back and ask myself if I’m doing this right. I’ve been operating from a standpoint of prioritizing mental health, and treating the weight loss as secondary (although actively encouraged). Is it healthy to see this kind of change this quickly? My Transformer progress chart, updated as of this morning’s weigh-in for round 3, is pretty staggering. If my weight loss continues at this clip, I could lose more than 30% of my body weight within the DB’s 6-month window and wind up disqualified from winning. I crunched, re-crunched, and even snap-crackle-popped the numbers because I couldn’t believe it — but it’s a very real possibility unless I slow down. (I know you can’t see any pounds in my screenshot, but you don’t need them to understand what’s going on here. For reference, the final 2 diamond points on the chart represent the overall target goal of -10% of my starting weight. I am well below that line already, and we’re only halfway through as of this moment.)

The answer to that question is yes. I have not done anything unhealthy in service of my goals. I have prioritized my exercise time and treated it as sacrosanct. I have honored my nutritional needs so that I am fueling my body, not poisoning it. I have been cognizant of getting proper rest and enough sleep so that I don’t tear myself down. I am taking in enough calories and macros. I am not engaging in obsessive behaviors with the scale or at the gym. And very importantly, I do not have any disordered eating habits pointing to bulimia or anorexia.

The biggest change I’ve made is quitting sugar. Rapid weight loss is what happens when you quit sugar after a lifetime of ingesting every crystal of it in sight. Period, the end.

I expect my weight loss will slow, and it will be maddening when that happens — this quick progression has spoiled me. I don’t mean to suggest it hasn’t come with effort on my part; it certainly has. It’s very difficult to cut out sugar entirely, and it takes me a lot of time to meal prep every week even with just trying to keep my sugar intake low rather than zero. I spend a good amount of time each week on physical activity, too. But as the truism goes, you can’t outrun a bad diet. Never has my body been so grateful as it has these past few months that I’ve let it detox from the white stuff. I’d choose this feeling over a decadent dessert any time, every time, over and over again.

So I feel ok that I now have to submit to an extra level of scrutiny during my DietBet weight checks until they remove the flag on my account. It turns out that it’s not any more annoying to record a video of myself getting on the scale than it is to take 2 still photos. In fact, I may actually prefer the video method. It’s hard to complain when my body is this happy.

Over the weekend, I had two other affirming experiences that underscore the positive ways my body is reflecting the changes I’m making. First, I had a haircut on Saturday — my first since the very first week of this whole NEW DAY chapter of my life. My stylist, not having seen me since 58 pounds ago, not only remarked on how great she thought I looked and nearly jumped out of her skin when I answered her question about how much I’d lost, but she also said my hair looks healthier than ever. It’s gotten a little thicker and is growing more quickly. That’s not something I expected to be possible after a certain age, but she couldn’t get over the difference.

The other experience was going for reflexology massages with a friend. We were unexpectedly made to strip down to the waist when it was time for the deep tissue massage, which we were having done in the same room. In the past, I would have lobbied to keep my clothes on, thankyouverymuch. Not this time. Bye bye, shirt and bra. It’s not exactly a smoke show under there, but it’s not a paralyzing source of shame in front of a bunch of other women anymore. And hey, I have had so much relief from that massage in the days since: greater range of motion in my neck, no stiffness in my ankles in the mornings, less soreness in my shoulders. Worth it.

I also found 2 pairs of pants on clearance over the weekend which were a size down, but I bought them anyway because I keep pantsing myself when I walk. My best estimate was I’d be about 2-3 weeks out from wearing either of them, and I’d fill the gap with skirts and dresses (brrr!) until then.

About an hour ago, I tried one of the pairs on.

They fit.

I cried.

Happy body, happy tears. And none too soon.

Last night was the first night of my half marathon training. It went well, but this is gonna suuuuuuuck.

I came right home and officially registered for the event.

I can’t wait. 😁

by

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.

by

NEW DAY 122: Where it’s due

A funny thing happens when you start saying yes to things. You become your own best friend.

Going straight to “yes” is not my factory setting. I overthink and overanticipate everything. It makes me an excellent planner, a cool-headed navigator of emergencies, and a strong leader. In equal measure, it also makes me an inadvertent self-saboteur of my own enjoyment. I not only look before I leap; I look towards the landing zone the whole way down, so much that I miss the full experience and thrill of the leap itself.

Or at least, I was that type of person.

My true nature isn’t suddenly erased and replaced, of course. I will still instinctively mentally map out every possible outcome in the name of contingency preparation for even seemingly inconsequential things, 90% of the time.1 The difference is that I now know that even if consequences other than the most-ideal ones happen as a result of my decision, it’s probably worth that bit of messiness for the trade-off of feeling enjoyment during the leap. Why should I turn everything into stakes-based choices full of weighted consequences? If it sounds good, why not jus say yes and trust myself to figure out how to go from there no matter what? Nothing is guaranteed; all my scenario planning is only a best guess, anyway. It makes more sense to believe that it — whatever it is — will work out as it’s meant to regardless of my decision, and know that I am capable of managing that — whatever that is — when the time comes.

This was not a choice I actively reflected on and then made, but rather my analysis of how my mindset shifted and my lived aftermath in the time since. I can honestly say that my life has improved as a result of it. I wasn’t consciously aware that I needed this change, but circumstances conspired that pushed me into it, and I’ve never looked back. I talked about it in elusive terms here and here, but as I’m feeling kind of wistful today, I’m going to expound just a little on some of those pieces now.

While I was aggressively job hunting this summer, I got to the final interview stage with what seemed like a good prospect. Unfortunately, that stage was a rather ludicrous task-based presentation I needed to prepare and then deliver to a 7-person panel before a Q&A. Concurrently, I was taking inventory of my relationships and re-evaluating their places in my life respective to the effort it required to maintain them. This was not unrelated to how people showed up (or not) for me when I was going through a very difficult time that had begun in February and from which I was still very much reeling. On top of this, I was plagued with self-doubt born of that struggle, and of my lifelong subpar but worsening physical health (and appearance) at a time when I desperately needed confidence to surmount the various hurdles on my path to a safe landing.

Enter: the external forces.

I found a professional support group of people who saw through my shaky veneer, to my true self. They supported me, they reminded me who I am, and they commiserated with me — but more importantly, they did so without coddling me and letting me avoid doing the work. They pushed me to tap into my strength, which wasn’t as inaccessible as I had made myself believe. Being a part of that community helped me rediscover my brand of personal inner magic that I needed not only to get through that season, but also to present to outside entities that needed to see it in order to find me an appealing candidate.

When I first started my tentative return to the gym, I was unsure of my ability, weak on my commitment, and hesitant to push myself in the way I needed to. Early on, I got an injury that worsened when it got infected, and the necessary pause from high-intensity workouts forced me back into my head when I had finally gotten back into my body. Knowing the risks that this presented, I took control by returning to playing instruments and starting to venture back into unstructured creative writing again. It kept things under control when my physical outlet was temporarily unavailable.

I gradually started getting out of the house more. I intentionally spent productive time in cafes on weekdays with a then-acquaintance who has a wfh job, who has become an actual friend as a result. We helped each other not only stay focused during those sessions, but we also encouraged and supported each other as we both grappled with getting through our respective tough situations.

There were also plenty of constants who were by my side throughout that wobbly chapter of my life. They checked on me, they lovingly imposed kind gestures on me, they found ways to give me space AND make sure I knew they were in my corner. I would be remiss to not mention that. I am, and have always been, as people-rich as it gets.

I finally found an insightful, competent therapist with true professionalism but also an actual personality, whose care and commitment I have never questioned. Working with her and being able to tell her things I have not talked about with anyone else has been a huge relief, not to mention a huge help in keeping a clear head. It’s the first positive experience I have had with therapy after several attempts over the years, and it came along at exactly the right time.

And finally… the doorstep deliveries. Not literal ones. Ones that showed up on my phone. In the form of completely unexpected and out-of-the-blue texts. Which were total context shifts from platonic to very much NOT that. From two different guys. Within the same week. The, um, charge of that got me going — interpret that however you want and you won’t be wrong — and gave me good distractions (enjoy the leap!), made me feel desirable when on my own I was feeling the opposite, and provided enough of an energy boost to kick my workouts into high gear. I almost don’t want to give this kind of credit here, but keeping it 100, it’s correctly placed. My motivation skyrocketed at the moment that turned out to be the most essential. Doorstep deliveries set the energy bar , which became the pivot point that has originated my inarguably successful recommitment to my health for the second half of this godawful year — and let’s just say the porch light is still on.

That all being said, the biggest share of the credit ultimately belongs to… me.

Saying that is not selfish. It’s not even bragging. It’s just true.

The universe could have lined up this same set of circumstances for anyone, and they might have done different things with them — or they might have done nothing at all with them.

I said yes.2

At every turn, I chose myself. I chose my actions and I enacted my decisions. I stayed on my own side. I respected my needs and what would give me something positive in the moment, promising myself to capitalize on it and bank on a high-yield ROI. Was it perfect? Of course not. Was it without hiccups, bumps in the road, weirdness, or twists and turns that produced entirely new challenges of different proportions? I mean, obviously not; that’s way too specific a list for the answer to this (clearly rhetorical question) to be anything but no. But the point is, I saw things clearly and for what they were, and did not let any undesirable potential or real outcomes deter me from my priorities. When I got stuck in my head, I knew how to get myself out safely. When I felt apprehension, I believed in my abilities to handle it and coached myself through it. When I caught myself wondering if I should have done something differently, I shrugged it off as a pointless internal debate because I was where I was; the only thing I could do now was move forward, with a little more insight and wisdom. And, importantly, when presented with any new challenge, I continued to say yes.

That’s how I wound up on 75 Hard. I’m currently on day 70. I’ll do a whole other long-winded post after I successfully complete the 75 days, so I won’t veer off in that direction now. What I will say is that it has not only solidified my path forward, but it may very well have helped me change my life.

I will end with this: being your own best friend isn’t sad. It’s a necessity. By saying yes to things outside of my head, I was actually saying yes to myself. That’s the true choice I am making every day. I choose fun. I choose joy. I choose quality interactions over quantity of friendships. I choose health. I choose laughter. I choose trying. I choose failure as a possible option, and I choose to not be afraid of that. I choose a fuller life. I choose me.

I say yes.

  1. Not including vacations. I am somehow a free spirit when I’m traveling. ↩︎
  2. The only “rule” I’ve set around this that it can’t be with the knowledge that anything I say yes to might be hurting someone — myself or anyone else. ↩︎