You'd be Swimming in That

Yesterday I went on a bike tour around Chicago, and rented a bike in the morning just to ride around. It was great -- so much fun. I totally recommend Bobby's Bike Hike if you're ever in Chicago (coupon code: YELP2011). The funny thing was, this place is owned by a guy from Arkansas! On the tour, I even got a special job: helping to corral people in the back. Reward: I got to wear the snazzy vest pictured to the right for three hours. Anyway, I digress.

They had cool t-shirts for sale that said "I Chicago" (imagine the I <3 NY shirts, subbing a bike picture for the heart, and Chicago for NY). I wanted one, long sleeved so I asked my tour guide George about it at the end of the tour. He told me and I quote, "Yeah sorry, we only have XL. You would totally be swimming in that."

This guy knew nothing about me, or about my past but I was shocked. For someone who used to not fit into men's/unisex 2XL clothes? It was pretty surreal to be told XL was too big for me. Odd, but great. And maybe he is actually right. Wow.

Lots and lots of stuff going on!

I moved into my new house this past weekend with the help of 14 great friends and a 1.25 month old baby. I have to absolutely brag about my friends and how grateful I am for them -- you have to be a great friend to get up at 8 AM to avoid the 105F projected high, and to work in 90F, humid weather to move me out of my second floor apartment. I felt so loved. It sounds cheesy to say that, but seriously I thought in the middle of this "Wow, they are willing to give this huge chunk of their Saturdays for me? And get up so early on Saturday?! And help even though this historically hot weather smothers you the moment you walk outside?!" I was (and am) incredibly grateful for their help, and the spirit behind their help. Beyond the friends who helped with the move itself, there was a friend who stopped by to bring us cold drinks. There was another who watched someone's little daughter because she was pregnant and didn't feel comfortable doing all the lifting, and this freed up two more friends to be able to help. It was a real team effort and I was unspeakably grateful for and humbled by everyone's help. For someone who had a very long and hard season of isolation and crushing loneliness in Arkansas, it was incredible to realize how vast and rich my pool of friends here is now. Again, gratitude is the word that comes to mind -- not only for their help in moving, but for their friendship and for having them in my lives. I am so so blessed and grateful for each of them.

Along these lines, I had a birthday almost two weeks ago now. I think it was the best birthday I've had in probably 10 years. I loved it. My license expired this year so I had to get a new one. It was shocking to compare the new picture with the old. I am so much skinnier looking in this new one; in fact, I could not believe that I had a sleeveless dress on (I didn't think about having to take a license picture when I got dressed that morning -- let's blame my blondness) and that it looks really good in the picture. I then met my friend/new roommate for lunch, ran some more errands, went over to a friend's house (the one with baby Benson, my move in helper), and then met another friend for frozen yogurt where she had a very thoughtful surprise from my mom -- a beautiful bunch of gerbera daisies which are my favorite.

The day was so full (not in an "I'm running around and can't cram a single other thing in the day" kind of way, but in an "I can't believe what a good day this is, and my heart is about to burst" way.). It was only afterward when I reflected on it how different it was from the previous years' birthdays in Arkansas. Previously since I had very few friends in Arkansas, the way I celebrated my birthdays was with food. I'd let myself eat whatever I wanted in whatever amounts I wanted and say that that was just a part of celebrating. In contrast, this year I barely thought about food. Yes, I met friends for lunch/dinner, but food was really in the backdrop and not in the forefront of why we were getting together -- the real reason was to celebrate and have fun together, not to eat for the sake of eating. I thought to myself "THIS is what normal people must feel like around food" -- and it was not lost on me that, at least for the day, I fell into that category of people who were treating food as a part of the background of their lives, not in the starring role. I was amazed and, again, I felt very grateful.

It is incredible to think about how much God has blessed me in the last year, in very unexpected ways. I distinctly remember my birthday last year. I felt probably the worst I have ever felt in my life. I had been diagnosed with depression a few weeks earlier, and somehow putting a label on the emptiness I felt made me even a little sadder. I spent a good chunk of my day crying face down on the floor of my apartment thinking, "This is just not right. Life should not be like this." I was so lonely and sad and I felt utterly defeated. It was on that day that I gave myself permission to leave Arkansas. I cried and thought, "I have no good friends in Arkansas." I felt very strongly the voice of God whispering to me, "I am your friend." It sounds crazy -- well, it is crazy -- but it was unmistakable to me. I cry just writing about it.

I decided I would give myself one year. I would try in earnest to make friends one last time. I had already tried everything I knew to do (and my counselors agreed that the list was long and that I HAD tried a lot) one more time -- and if it didn't work out again this time, I would leave in a year with no guilt and absolutely no remorse.

The move to a place just across town (not out of the state, as I had contemplated a year earlier) and my birthday are a testament to how much God has helped me to make friends here. My friends here have affirmed that I am not weird (at least not enough to justify my having no friends), that I am valued, and that they love me -- and after the drought of local friends, the value of this is immeasurable and I in no way take this for granted.

There are other things I would have never guessed would happen over the last year -- moving in with a roommate after living alone for 10 years, joining a 12-step program, getting a year's extension on my tenure clock -- but I see God's hand in every one and am convinced this is what He has for me in this season of life. I want to learn every lesson and enjoy every day because His plan is best for me.

Just a quick update on life. It is really a great season of life right now, and for this I am unspeakably grateful especially after such a hard three year stretch after I first moved to Arkansas. The fullness and richness of life is certainly not lost on me.

(And by the way, the food part is going pretty well these days too. Again, I'm grateful.)

Peanut Butter

When I went to Yosemite last month, I had PBJ for the first time in probably a couple years. It was SO GOOD! I loved it and didn't even realize what I'd been missing for so long. And I wanted to have some to make at my house!

I rarely have bread at my house -- it's not that I don't like it, it's just not something I can usually go through fast enough so it usually molds so I don't have it often. When I DO have it though, I make sure it is the good stuff either from a good bakery or something I've made myself.

About three weeks ago, I had bread that I had gotten to make grilled cheese (another favorite, which I am sure is no surprise). I decided I wanted to have PBJ sandwiches too, but I really did think long and hard before deciding to do that. Why?

PB has been a longstanding binge food for me -- one of those things that, in the past, I'd dig into with a spoon, a glass of milk, and more often than not a heavy heart. In the past it's typically been eaten by the jar, not the tablespoonful. So I wondered -- should I get the PB for PBJ? My typical workarounds for foods like this are either to get single serving containers (e.g., Doritos), eat the food at a restaurant (e.g., ice cream) so I only have a single size, or to avoid the food altogether. I could not figure out a way to easily do any of these things, so I decided a) that I really did want the PBJ; it was worth the risk and that b) if it became a problem, I would wash it down the sink (throwing it away isn't always enough -- I've been known to trash dig in the past).

I am pleased to report that my PB is still around. It's been about three weeks and I've enjoyed lots of PBJ delicacies including the straight up sandwich and the PBJ pizza. I think I will try it with oatmeal next week.

The best part? The peanut butter isn't even a temptation. I've been totally enjoying it but not obsessing over it or thinking about the next chance I'd have to eat it.

I am so glad that OA and God are helping me to overcome my food compulsions. I could not even have imagined having PB in my house a year ago and, if it had been there, I am sure I would have been absolutely on edge white-knuckling it through the temptation until I probably would have given in and eaten it all. Now I feel nothing toward that PB. I am so incredibly grateful (but I'm not ready to try to have Nutella in my house just yet).

Upper Yosemite Falls Trail Hike

Me and Kristi at the bottom of Yosemite Falls. We climbed the whole way up!

So, as I said last post, I did it. I climbed up to the very top of Yosemite Falls and it was really no small feat: 7.6 miles round trip with an elevation gain of 2500 ft (that’s twice the height of the Empire State Building for those keeping track at home). And let me tell you...I don’t think I’ve had a more physically demanding experience in my life, or a physical demand with such a huge emotional high at the end. Let me chronicle the journey for you.

I got up at 3 AM Friday so I could shower and catch my 6 AM flight. I flew to Reno, where I rented a car. Google maps told me I had a 4.5 hour trip to Yosemite ahead of me. What it didn’t know about this trip is that it would actually be 10 hours due to navigational errors and seasonal road closures I wasn’t aware of, and that I’d get the first speeding ticket since I was 18 (I guess we'll be glad for the 13 year streak…). Sigh. I finally made it to Yosemite Friday at 10 PM, and was frustrated, disgruntled and tired. That all went away, though, when I saw my friend Kristi who I hadn’t seen since our November trip to Disney. It is always so very very great to see her, and was even greater when I learned some exciting personal updates about her life! She and I stayed up until 1 AM chatting and catching up – and yes, for those of you keeping track of the time difference, that is a full 24 hours of being awake for me. That’s really not the way I roll (I get 7 hrs of sleep/night like clockwork). It was a small price to pay to see Kristi and to have arrived in such a beautiful place (even though I could not tell it was beautiful under cover of darkness!).

The next morning I woke up at 7:30 AM. The good thing about being so tired was that I acclimated to Pacific time from central with no problem! Kristi and I got a slow start – eating a big breakfast, making sure to pack a healthy lunch and a lot of snacks for our hike, checking out the visitor’s center, seeing Yosemite Falls from the ground – before we finally started up the trail around 12:30. The hike was supposed to take 6-8 hours, so we all figured we’d be fine and back on the ground by sunset around 8 PM. And I would be remiss if I did not mention that the weather was perfect -- very slightly overcast with a high of around 60-65. PERFECT weather to be outside.

An overview of the trail. 135+ switchbacks. 7.6 miles roundtrip. ~2600 ft elevation gain.

When the hike started, I had serious serious stomach issues. I was not feeling well AT ALL and was not even sure the hike was a good idea because I felt so badly. I knew deep down that I would regret it if I did not at least TRY the hike so I decided to go despite stabbing stomach pains. About ¼ - ½ mile into the hike let’s just say the spirit moved in a major way (TMI) and I was feeling a whole lot better. I was glad that I had decided to press on and was now sure that I would make it up the mountain. A little bit later we stopped for lunch. I had the first PBJ I’d had in probably 3-4 years and wow it was great! I also had some fruit and a string cheese, and then we soldiered on up the mountain. The first 1-2 miles were not that bad. Some switchbacks, yes, but the rocks weren't slippery or unstable feeling, and I was grateful for whoever had constructed such a cool trail to the top. We made it to an overlook and I was feeling pretty good. I definitely wasn’t fast, but I thought “I’ve so got this.”

Us at the first big outlook. It is after the first set of switchbacks. A lot of people quit the trail here, but not us!! Great view of Half Dome in the background.

We then hit an odd part of the trail that took us downhill for like ¼ mile. For anyone trying to reach the top of anything (mountain, waterfall, whatever), you know that extended stretches of downhill are not good when your goal is to go uphill. Finally, though, we started to go uphill again. This is where things got bad.

The last part of Upper Yosemite Falls trail is steep, long, and has lots of slippery, unstable rocks. My psoas was spasming with nearly every step I took. It hurt so so badly.

…and this stretch of the trail was where I learned I was not in as good a shape as I thought I was and that my friend Kristi may truly be the most patient person on the planet. I googled it and found that there are more than 135 switchbacks to the top of the falls. I started off able to do 2-3 switchbacks before needing a break. It got to the point where I would need to rest once or twice EACH switchback. Kristi never got annoyed or impatient, and was incredibly encouraging. It was incredible. Although I seriously (and I mean it literally and not for dramatic effect) considered turning back twice, I didn't. And it was due in no small part to Kristi's encouragement. She is such a great friend and was so kind to be so helpful and patient.

This might give you an idea how steep and rocky the trail was. But probably not -- I think you have to see it to believe it.

Finally we made it to the top. And would you believe I did not get a single picture? I am virtually certain we had some taken, but I think the camera was switched to the wrong setting because I'll be darned if I didn't get to the bottom and learn that we had no pictures. So so sad.

But I will never forget it at the top. To actually get to the overlook you had to go over these extremely scary stairs (with no guard rail) cut out of the side of a rock face. Despite my exhaustion and fear of heights, I DID IT and Kristi and I enjoyed a beautiful dinner at the top around 5:30. We enjoyed it and I almost cried because I was so proud of myself. It was a full circle moment to have made it to the top of the falls; the fact that I used to not be able to climb a single flight of stairs without getting winded certainly wasn't lost on me.

Scary scary stairs to get to the overlook -- yes, you had to go downhill after climbing and climbing uphill. Crazy. But serious gratitude and props to those who made this trail and these stairs!!!

The way back down? I thought it would be a lot easier than it was. And I definitely thought it would be a lot faster than the way up. I will say this: it killed my knees and we didn't make it to the bottom until 9:30. Fortunately I had bought a headlamp and I had it with me because, even with the headlamp, it was one of the scariest things I'd done in my life. However, we made it unscathed and I was so so proud.

View from the top of the Falls. Yes, I stole this picture from someone online (as I did with the pictures of the trail and the stairs).

And more than being proud I was sore. My psoas was killing me (the uphills). My hamstrings killed me (the uphills). My quads killed me (the downhills). My knees killed me (the downhills). My back was killing me (the stress and exhaustion and the fact that I just have back problems). It. was. rough.

I thought I would be ravenous but honestly I just wanted to go to stretch and go to bed. I did have some pizza, but only two or three pieces -- my body just was not up for more, despite the fact that I'd done 9 hours of hiking. I thought I'd go to bed and sleep for 12 hours; however, I just slept for 7. I guess that's all my body wanted/needed. Strange.

I will say that this is the toughest thing I think I've ever done physically. I felt pushed to and past my limits. Though I wanted to die at times, I made it. And it was sooo worth it. I won't forget it. It makes me want to get in shape and be able to breeze up the falls next time -- and I will be SURE to get a picture before I leave :)

Picture and the Big Picture

I've been on this journey approaching 2 years now. Sometimes I forget the big picture. I know I'm worlds healthier than when I started. I know that I am both smaller and more in shape...but sometimes I forget how far I've come.

When I think about it hard, I remember some things -- that I used to get winded walking up the hill in front of the building where I work, that I could barely fit in airplane seats and seats at the old movie theatre, that I'd be out of breath walking up a flight of stairs -- but honestly, I think I've blocked a lot of it out. I also think that part of this is due to the HEAVY denial that I was in for such a long time. Even when I weighed 300 lbs, I think that I thought I looked good and was not that fat. I was lying to myself only.

Anyway, I forget how far I've come sometimes. Then someone sends me a picture like this...one that I don't even think I realized anyone was taking...

...and I remember. Wow, I don't want to go back.

Community and Friends

I have written posts lamenting my lack of friends and posting what a hard time I had transitioning to life in Arkansas and as a real adult. I am pleased to announce that I finally have friends here! Real, genuine, we actually have a lot in common, I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me friends! What a blessing.

It is funny, I had myself convinced there for awhile that I "didn't need friends" and that I "was independent and liked to do stuff without having to please others" and that being alone "allowed me freedom that I didn't want to give up". And, while there are shreds of truth in the last two statements at least, they're mostly lies and coping mechanisms that helped me to feel better. I can assure you that having friends is so much better than not having them.

I think people were designed to be in community. My therapist has even told me that I am someone who functions better in relationships than out of them (not the romantic variety, just relationships in general). He is right. I need friends and am so glad that I have some now.

I am grateful for friends who accept me for who I am -- an emotional overeater, someone who is caring and thoughtful, someone who deals with depression, a professor, someone who can be compulsive, someone who is successful and intellegent, someone who is passionate, someone who is pretty liberal and has a gay brother. They take the good with the bad, and don't try to "fix" me or judge me or convince me that I'm wrong if they disagree. I think I do the same for them -- 'cause that's what friends do. I am so grateful to have them in my lives, adding to and enhancing my existing network of friends who I don't live near anymore. I felt I owed you guys an update on that since I shared the bad with you on that one, and now I have good news to share :)

Now Entering VFT

The end of last week was not great. The day of the big snowstorm I went crazy with my eating (to the tune of four grilled cheese sandwiches; oops) in the morning and then got it all together for the afternoon. However, I didn't track for WW the rest of the week. I ended up losing the 1.8 lbs from the week before, but not really making any huge progress.

This week I am back firmly on plan, and I am happy to report that I am not only back to my lowest weight as an adult for the first time since before Christmas, as of this morning I am entering VFT. I forgot where I read this (it was some blog), but that stands for virgin fat territory -- uncharted ground that I haven't been at since I passed it (once) on the way up. This morning I was at 228.4. I can barely believe it. Time to keep the momentum going!

Amazing Bike Ride

Today I went for a bike ride. It was 49 out, which is amazing given that it's just a week before Christmas. Biking at this time of the year would likely never happen in Ohio (where I grew up), but it was really nice to be able to bust out a quick 6 mile ride while listening to Christmas tunes. It felt really great, as it had been over a month since I'd been out on my bike (sadly).

Something about my bike ride was just amazing today. I felt incredibly strong. Perhaps it's that I *am* stronger. Perhaps those 5-7 lbs I've lost make a significant difference in being able to propel myself more efficiently. Perhaps I just had an amazing day. I'm not sure, but whatever it is, I'll take it! (and a healthy dose of it too, please...)

The trail where I ride is largely flat, but there are a couple of hills. I sailed up two of them with grace and ease (even in 3rd gear!). There is also a huge hill by my house that I have to ride down to get to the trail. Usually, I get about halfway up the hill on my way home and then walk the rest of the way. Today I decided "You WILL do this. You CAN do this and you SHOULD do this so you WILL do this!"

Not only did I make it up the hill on my bike, I downshifted only to 2nd gear, not even the easiest one! I felt like such a hoss. I am really becoming a cyclist. I was/am so proud.

Non-Scale Victory!!!

Notice anything special about what I'm wearing in this picture? No?

Well, there is something very special about these clothes. They aren't plus size. They're 18, not 18Ws! Earlier this month I ordered for the first time in ages -- probably since 2000, literally 10 years -- a bunch of clothes that weren't plus sized. There have been a few times I have bought something on sale that I thought would fit later that wasn't plus sized, or times I've made mistakes and gotten the wrong size (unintentionally) that were not plus sized. However, this order was completely intentional. And, I was a little surprised but 100% delighted when my new goodies all fit!

A new chapter in this WL journey. Now when I get to size 14, it will be like a whole new world because I will be able to shop in almost any store. Goodbye Lane Bryant!! It's been real.

Renewed Vigor and Tis the Season....

I haven't blogged about it and I think it is significant enough for a post of its own to be written later, but let me tell you all:

I LOVE THE NEW WEIGHT WATCHERS!!!!

I started the program the day it debuted (week after Thanksgiving), and I figured "I'll give it a shot. We'll see if it sticks."

It's been no secret that I've been stuck in a weight loss malaise for the last 4-6 months. I've been maintaining and not gaining, but I've been stuck in the same +/-5 lb window for a long time. The lowest I've gotten was 230.6 which occurred just prior to bout 2 of back problems. I tend to stick closer to 235 though. The lowest I have ever weighed in my adult life was 229.5 which I weighed for several months in graduate school.

Well, I am proud to announce that the spell is broken. I am now loving the new WW plan and am able to easily stick to it. I am also proud to announce that the scale is moving in the right direction!!

The week after Thanksgiving, I weighed in at 237.2 and started the new WW program. The first week on the program, I lost 3.6 lbs and weighed in at 233.6. This morning I weighed in at 231.4 (though it is not my official weigh-in day; my official day is on Sunday). And this, by the way, is in the midst of back pain that leaves me unable to work out as much or as aggressively as I usually do.

I am 2 lbs away from a very magical number. When I weigh 229.4, this will be significant both because it will mark exactly 70 lbs lost and will be the lowest I have weighed as an adult, ever. The last time I know I weighed this was as a sophomore in college (1999). Who knows, I may reach 229.4 this week!

My original goal for the holiday season was not to gain weight. However, I have now set my sights higher and want to lose weight over the holiday season. I'm not oblivious to the increased incidence of land mines around this time of the year (four holiday parties this week alone!), but I think I can do this. So far (two parties down for the week), I have done ok. Having a mindset of saying "Yes" to health rather than "No" to food, and having a plan that is healthy and reasonable to stick to is making all the difference so far.

Real Food

During my trip to Missouri we went to Amish country. There, we bought several goodies including milk and eggs. We made both yogurt cheese from the milk. The milk was simultaneously the most delicious and the most rich milk I have consumed in my life. I also bought the BEST cream cheese (freshly made of course) I have EVER eaten.

Me, making cheese with our milk from Amish country. It was so good (and I must acknowledge the help I received from Esra's mom -- THANK YOU!!!)

While I was in Columbia, we ate really well -- but differently than I usually eat. We ate a lot of cheese (no complaints from me!). These guys also ate a lot of stuff containing olive oil and yogurt. I eat this stuff too (some of my favorites actually), but there is a difference: everything I ate at my hosts' house was full fat. Full fat yogurt; no concern for using a bit of extra olive oil.

I'm not going to lie, this freaked me out at first. However, when I returned from the trip I only gained 0.2 lbs (which is nothing considering the rich food I ate). I also returned with a different mindset.

God made foods as whole fat foods. Cheese is generally made to be full fat; lesser-fat versions are just more processed. I don't generally love the modified/processed foods like the (formerly) 1 pt. english muffins -- why is taking all of the fat out of milk any different? It is just processing the milk into an unnatural state.

I am not sure what changes I will make to my diet, but I am going to be less quick to buy the reduced fat versions of things, and the reduced fat versions of things that taste gross are DONE! It is better to have a little of something that I really enjoy than to have more of something that is processed and unnatural and not even all that appealing.

I am going to try to eat more REAL food, and less processed stuff (even though I did this to a large extent already).

Austin and turning a Corner

I had a great time in Austin at my conference. I met some new people, learned about new stuff going on in my field, and connected with old friends. I really love to do that.

I made several really significant choices that made me realized "Huh, my life has changed and this is totally doable." It was as though I had turned a corner on the trip. Let me give you some examples.

• I packed healthy bars (e.g., Larabars), a bag of apples, and beef jerky for breakfasts and snacks. I felt I would be in better control than leaving these meals to fate. Don't get me wrong, I still love bagels, sausage, eggs, and all kinds of other breakfast foods, but to be honest I didn't really miss not having them and felt 100% satisfied by my breakfasts (once I got a bottle of milk).
• I went out to dinner a lot (what other options are there in a new place with no kitchen?), and a couple of times split things with friends. I knew that ordering a whole plate for myself wouldn't have anything to do with hunger (there is almost always way too much food at restaurants), and I was not sad about this decision. Turns out the food at one restaurant (BBQ) was kind of gross and I ended up leaving the part I didn't like behind. That would have NEVER happened in the past. Mashed potatoes -- whether they were gross or not -- would have been inhaled. Not this time.
• The gym at the hotel was $15 a day to use. I HATE THAT AND VERY LITTLE IRKS ME MORE THAN PAYING $200/DAY FOR A HOTEL AND THEN HAVING TO PAY FOR THE GYM ON TOP OF THAT!!! Instead of using this as an excuse not to work out, I got up at 5 each morning and went for a long walk. It was actually nice to have a chance to explore Austin (and I felt safe doing so), so it ended up to be a good thing since I was otherwise at the conference venue most of the day.
• I felt like I had reasonable control over balancing treats and eating healthy. I came back very very sodium waterlogged, but did not otherwise have a significant weight change, which was great.
• I went out to lunch and one day ordered a side of veggies instead of fries -- not because I felt like I should, but because I wanted to and was concerned my body was not getting enough fiber. I thought to myself as I did it "OMG is this really happening or am I having an out of body experience?!"
• I realized I needed a lot less sleep than I used to. Remember how I wanted to get a bunch of sleep for my upcoming trip? Totally didn't happen. Most nights I slept 5-6 hours. I usually sleep about 7 hours. In spite of the lack of sleep, I did fine. I was surprised but happy to learn that I don't need as much sleep as I thought.
• (This one is huge) I did not once eat in secret. I did not pig out because I could or because I felt like I had an excuse of being out of town. This is huge for me. I thought "Huh, this must be how normal people eat...not that I'd really know."

I've posted a couple pictures of me at the conference. These are significant not only because I look smaller than I did last year at this conference, but also because I bought this shirt last year for the same conference but it ended up being to small. This year it was not. I was ecstatic to be able to wear it. Hopefully next year it might even be loose!

I think for me the reason that this trip was so significant was because I felt very at peace with food. I didn't think about it all that much. I thought about the real reasons I was at the conference, and none of them were to eat. I rarely thought about food other than when I was hungry. For someone with such a hugely dysfunctional past with food, this is huge. I was delighted to feel like I had turned some kind of a corner on this trip. I actually felt normal, which is a very comforting feeling after having felt so weird around food for so long.

Out of the Closet

I have mentioned before that I am getting more involved with a community group from my church. I like the people in it and am starting to feel more comfortable and safe revealing parts of myself to them. They still don't know all of the history with my dad (probably going to drop at least parts of that bomb tomorrow), but I made a big step to one person yesterday: I told her that I struggle with food.

That was it. I didn't go into the details (though I later did thank her for her empathy and share with her the link to the blog in case she was curious via e-mail), but it feels good to have at least one person know. Ironically, I told her this after I had been with our group at McDonalds. I had a walnut/apple salad and actually the sight/smell/thought of McDonalds not only no longer has any appeal to me, it totally grosses me out. The circumstances/significance of our being there is another societal rant all by itself that I will forgo for now.

It feels good to have at least one person know my "secret". Now part of me thinks, "Who are you kidding - you wear size 18 and are welllll over 200 lbs; your struggle is no secret!!", but another part of me thinks of the years of shame and secret eating and knows that this is a huge deal to have my "secret" out in the open. I am similarly divided on the significance of this revelation - I mean, the title of my blog states that food will NOT define me forever, so why am I making a big deal of my dysfunctional relationship with food if I don't want it to define me? But the other part of me knows that still I often teeter on very tenuous ground and that I am not yet to the place where I can regularly control my eating; this in fact makes this revelation very noteworthy and underscores the importance of being vigilant about it at all times. Although I don't want food to define me forever, my wrestling with the emotion attached to food is still at the forefront of my day to day life and, as a result, still largely does define me for now.

Revealing my struggle was a big huge step for me. I am not sure what happens next with these people and in how they relate to my journey to have a healthy relationship with food - while I do not want them to change their food-related behavior around me, I will appreciate their understanding when I act weird around food or just forgo a lot of the food choices that are available. Further, trusting people in church-related situations is HUGE for me, and I made what for me is considered a huge step by telling one person from this environment about my problem.

I sometimes think it must seem so weird to someone who has never struggled with disordered eating before to hear that people "struggle" with food, just like I think some addictions are weird (e.g., I cannot for the life of me understand the hoarding thing!). The good news is that, even if the person I told felt like this, she never showed it at all. Could be that she is a counselor. Could be that she has a good poker face. Or, maybe just maybe, it could be that she is kind and trustworthy and genuinely empathetic. Believe it or not, my money is on the last option. I am starting to trust. I hope it is not a mistake.

Proud

Today I am reveling in being proud of myself.

• I am so much healthier than I was when I started this journey for the second (and I truly hope final) time.
• I have lost about 65 lbs.
• I have learned a lot about myself, how strong I can be, where I have areas of vulnerability, and places where there is room for improvement.
• I am proud that -- even though it was a very hard and very humbling step -- I recognized that it was ok to go on antidepressants and have followed through on taking them. It has completely changed my outlook on life, and for me was absolutely the right step to take, in conjunction with cognitive behavioral therapy.
• I have shown I can change.
• I have learned so much about my body. I can now recognize when muscles are tight and stretch them before they turn into debilitating back aches.
• I am capable of so much physically now than I ever thought possible. An hour of Zumba is now one of my favorite things; I used to leave 15 minutes into class because it killed my feet and I thought I was going to die. I now can easily lift weights, and am still working on progress toward the gun show. I now enjoy yoga and am starting to believe that I might eventually flexible enough to twist myself into some of the more pretzel-y positions they do at yoga (and, BTW I can touch my toes easily and have been able to for quite some time).
• I have such a broader picture of health now. Where I started off thinking health was about weighing less, I have evolved my thinking about this and learned it is about fueling my body with foods that are good for it, exercising and pushing myself, paying good attention to my mental health and my most recent revelation that I must consider and improve my spiritual health. I am beginning to recognize the interconnection between these aspects of health -- physical, mental, and spiritual.
• Today my blood pressure was 114/72. One of the things in the path to scaring me straight was a visit to the doctor in about February 2009 where my blood pressure was about 150/110.
• Yesterday I biked 31 miles at once. It was my longest bike ride, and it was on a cruiser. I made it further up one of the main hills on my ride than I had ever done before (usually I walk it up my bike).
• Today I went to Sam's to get produce. It is Sunday, so the sample pushers were out in full force. I had one sample: ham and cheese rolled up together. I wasn't really interested in anything else (even though I thought several things would taste good, I thought to myself "Nah, it's not worth it" and subsequently thought "OMG, could by attitude toward food really be changing that much?!?!" and almost cried tears of happiness and pride right there in Sam's Club - and I am not exaggerating).
• I am proud that I am capable of recognizing my accomplishments. One of the main themes that has emerged from my counseling is that I am so incredibly hard on myself, quick to dismiss successes, and this can lead to me getting angry at myself and eventually depressed. I am starting to recognize and celebrate these successes more easily. I am optimistic that I will in time be able to do this in other areas of my life as well.

This morning I was up 1.4 lbs (or something like that) over last week. I have to admit, it was surprising and kind of disappointing because I once again tracked everything and this week I was even within my points (albeit barely). Instead of letting it get me down, I identified things that I know will help me next week (packing lunches and eating out less, for example). I know that I am doing the right things and things that are healthy for me. Those are the things I can control, and eventually the number will follow. And that, too, is something I am proud of myself for recognizing.

My facebook status

I thought I would document it here, since yesterday was a hard day and to show you how I am really starting to feel like myself again.

What a great day - brother's birthday, great progress at Prabuddha's research meeting, Hector passed his qualifying exam, Zumba, 15 miles of biking, Blue Man group, amazing weather, and now a three day weekend!! Every Friday should be like this!

Things are clicking again

This morning I was down to 233. The scale is really moving, mostly because I am working out hard and because I am tracking my food again. It feels nice to have this under control again for now.

This summer I felt like I was treading water with this healthy living thing. Sometimes even that is hard. Now I feel like I am swimming again though and making headway. It really doesn't even feel like an enormous effort. It is amazing to me what a difference the chemicals in our brains can make.

♥ ♥ Seratonin ♥ ♥

Fitting into the World Again

60 lbs ago, I really didn't fit in. Yes, there's the figurative sense -- feeling 0% confidence in myself which I am sure projected through, having only a very precious few friends in NWA, etc which made me feel like I didn't fit in -- but I also didn't fit in in the very literal sense. And that is a TERRIBLE feeling.

For those of you who have been morbidly obese, I bet you identify. Not fitting into restaurant booths, choosing which movie theatres to go to based on which (if any) of the chairs fit you, taking a pass at amusement parks because you can't ride anything because you don't fit, and of course the dreaded airplane seats. Everyone hates those.

When I took ergonomics in college, we learned about designing stuff like this to fit everyone based on data that can be found in anthropometric charts. What this basically means is that you consult tables full of body measurements, and usually design stuff so that 95% of the population can use it easily and/or comfortably. I remember learning about this in college and thinking "Yeah, more people should do this!" What I failed to realize, however, is that people probably *do* do that, but I just was in the top 5% -- and while, many times, that is a great thing, here is a time when it isn't.

I am pleased to report that I feel like I am fitting back into the world in which I live. I went to a show at the Walton Arts Center (Momix by Botanica which I HIGHLY RECOMMEND if you are in town or get the chance to see it), and I had people on either side of me, and it wasn't a big deal. Fitting into the chair was no problem, and having other people on either side of me didn't cramp me at all. Usually, stuff like this -- fitting into a booth at a restaurant, going to watch a movie, flying on a plane -- is unremarkable. Every once in awhile (like last night), though, I will just pause, take it all in, and feel really excited and proud.

For someone who has felt abnormal for so long, feeling normal is a pretty amazing feeling. The world was engineered for me again. I can fit in stuff without feeling like a sardine smooshed in a can, or feeling like I will break something if I sit on it. While I love being remarkable and special in many ways*, being one of the huddled masses feels pretty great when it means you can fit into a chair without feeling uncomfortable or like you will break it. I feel like I fit again.

*This came out a lot more arrogant sounding than I mean. We are all special, not just me!

One Year Fativersary

4/21/09 I said enough. Enough being fat. Enough making excuses. Enough being unhealthy. Enough enough enough.

I had been going to counseling for awhile to work through some major depression issues, and finally I decided that I could take charge of my weight too. No more giving away my power to bags of chips and boxes of cookies. Although these things made me feel good for very brief moments, they had ultimately robbed the life from my eyes and the joy from my heart. And, one year ago today, I said enough.

I joined Weight Watchers. I decided to get serious about getting healthy. I decided I was worth it. I decided to make a change.

Today I can say that in many ways I am just not at all the same person I was a little over a year ago. The life is back in my eyes. I can do so much more than I could a year ago and, actually, more than I would have probably thought I could do ever. I am back in the game, and I love it.

To show you one of the ways in which I have changed, I will illustrate with a small story. Two bloggers -- Jen and Tony -- challenged each other to an exercise-off. Tony challenged Jen to do 99 minutes on the Stairmaster, and Jen accepted. They also challenged each other to get 200 other people to join them (virtually) on 4/20 for an hour long workout. I accepted (TEAM TONY!!).

Let me provide a little context for you. This is the end of the semester. I have been slammed. I haven't had time to watch any TV or to get on FB that much. It has sucked to be so busy. Tonight I had a banquet for work. I didn't get home until about 9:30. In the past that would have been the PERFECT excuse to not be able to do this workout. In fact, I probably wouldn't have even needed an excuse not to work out because I never did work out really!

Today, though, I soldiered through and did 1 hr. 15 min. at the gym despite my insane levels of busy-ness. I was proud of my self. Working out and taking care of myself trumps the excuses not to work out. Plus, I had to honor my commitment to Team Tony.

As a part of the challenge, Tony challenged us to get out of our comfort zone at the gym today. I realized, you know what? My comfort zone is pretty darned large and growing all the time. I remember when I started going to the gym a year ago, I only felt comfortable swimming. (Yes, I too find it ironic that the only place this 300 lb lady felt comfortable was in a bathing suit in the pool). Swimming was the one form of exercise I knew I could do without a problem. I remember a friend of mine at the time challenged me to take a group exercise class, and said it would be harder than swimming laps. I protested.

"Do you know how hard it is to swim laps?!" I asked. He did not relent. Eventually I went to a class to prove him wrong. However, I realized about 15 minutes into my first water aerobics class that he was right. Oops. I persisted though and now I think those classes are not bad. I feel I get a good workout in, sure, but I no longer want to die at the conclusion of each class.

Tenuous, I decided to explore other parts of the gym. In June I got a personal trainer. She taught me how to use the weight machines. She helped me understand how to lift free weights. She taught me about planks and pushups and Bosu balls. She got me started using that machine that I hated, the freaking elliptical machine.

Eventually, I got really pissed off at that stupid elliptical. How could I let this machinery beat me? I would definitely have to show it I could in fact conquer it. When I started I used to be able to only do about 10 minutes at level 1. I would then feel like I was going to die. I worked and worked and worked at it. My goal was to, eventually, be able to do an hour. I remember the first day I went 45 minutes in August. I felt so powerful. A few weeks later I knocked out an hour. Now it's not a problem to do an hour or more at all, even on level 10.

With time, I became more and more of a gym rat. I started doing Zumba. At first I couldn't follow the steps, and it definitely hurt my feet. Now I can do it without a problem, and it is something I looked forward to. I started going to spin class and I loved it. I went to BodyPump regularly (a weightlifting class), and eventually decided that I wanted a gun show. I continue working toward that goal now, and making very good progress. There really are no classes at the gym now that intimidate me. It's not that I can do everything in all of them (psh, don't I wish!), but the point is that I am not afraid. I do what I can and get better at these things every day. I have a very large comfort zone at the gym. I think the gym is my place of refuge now. Given the lengths I used to go to to avoid going to the gym it is ironic, isn't it?

I have not written about this on my blog, but our town hosts a big biking stage race every year. It is a big deal, and the cyclists who participate are professionals. I remember being curious last year and deciding to attend the criterium (basically like riding laps on the road in a bike race format). I remember being impressed at the cyclists' legs, particularly the definition of their quads. I silently thought to myself, "You know, I wish I could do that." It was so far out of my comfort range, though, I thought I would never be able to bike.

Fast forward a year. I am loving bike riding. I made a goal awhile back that I would bike 75 miles by my fativersary and I can very happily report that I made that goal last night, with a bit of room to spare. I am not going to pretend to be a cycling pro, but I have confidence that I will be a proficient road biker by the end of the summer. Someday I will even be confident in spandex; for now I just grin it and bear it though. Although biking is getting to be more in my comfort zone, spandex still is not.

In the last year I have lost almost 60 lbs.

In the last year I have gone surfing.

In the last year, I have been able to not need the belt extender on airplanes anymore.

In the last year, I have gone from a size 26 to a size 18.

In the last year, I have started to rock a gun show.

In the last year, I have begun to cycle.

In the last year, I started lifting weights.

In the last year, I have reached a level of fitness I thought I would never see again and maybe am in better shape than ever.

Most importantly, though, in the last year I have reconnected with myself. The light has returned to my eyes. I have regained my life. That is worth more than any weight loss is.

Happy one year fativersary to me. To bigger goals in the upcoming year.