A little lost

I feel a little lost. In my weight loss and in my life. I feel like I'm drifting and can't seem to find my motivation or my focus. I just don't seem to have the drive I once had to exercise daily, count every calorie and attend my group. Am I giving up? I hope not. I need to get healthy for so many reasons. So why can't I seem to get and stay motivated? 

Fat Jokes and Other Family Pressures

Today we went to my in-laws for dinner. This is the first time they have seen me since I put back on the weight. I was there about 5 minutes before my father-in-law made a joke about my weight. My weight is ALWAYS the topic of conversation at their house. They are lovely and wonderful people, and I love them more than anything in the world, but I dread the fat jokes, comments and advice about my weight. And to add to it, my sister-in-law recently lost 40 pounds and I'm very happy for her, but it just highlights my weight issue with them even more. No one seems to remember that I'm the main bread winner for my family, work 50+ hours a week, and still have kids I'm raising at home. I would love to have the ability to focus solely on my weight, not work and private pay for a doctor to to help me lose weight like my sister-in-law did, but that is not my lot in life, and I'm just trying to do the best I can with the hand I've been dealt. Am I jealous? No, not really. I love my sister-in-law and want her to be healthy and happy. I'm happy for her and want only the best for her. But, I guess I don't understand how my family cannot see the difference in our lives and give me a little more understanding. It hurts. I'm not just a work horse. I'm a human being, who has put everyone before myself. I guess that's my fault, but I don't see how I really have a choice. If I don't work, we don't eat, it's not an option. If I don't take care of my children, they will suffer. There are only so many hours in the day. I do not have endless resources and time. How do I make myself a priority without letting other things slide?

Asking For Help

Today I did three things to move forward in my journey to lose weight and get healthy. 1) I tracked my food intake via FitnessPal, 2) I skipped the bread and the sugar, and 3) I reached out to my old healthy eating support group and asked if I could come back. They welcomed me with open arms and gave me so much love and support I just wanted to cry. I missed the meeting for this week, but next Saturday we will be meeting and doing our weigh in and I will be turning in my food journal for this week. I'm excited! I know I need the accountability and support of the group and even though I'm embarrassed about putting weight back on, I know it's exactly what I need. I kept telling myself I would go back when I'd lost some weight, but that's like an alcoholic saying they will attend AA meetings when they quit drinking. I am a food addict and I need help. I use and abuse food. It's my drug of choice. I self medicate with food and for a time I feel better but then my problems are compounded because I haven't dealt with the original problems that caused me to overeat and now I have guilt and more pounds to add to my problems. I know this in my head, but it's not enough to know something, you have to do something about it. I have to find a better way to deal with stress. Some people exercise, some people pray, some people find a hobby. I guess so far I haven't found a stress reliever that works for me. Maybe I need to explore different outlets until I find what works. Kind of like your kid trying out different sports until they find the one they like. All I know is I can't keep turning to food. It's killing me. So, here's to my first week back in the plan! 

Facing My Fears

I got on the scale. I had to see where I was, how much ground I've lost and how much weight I've gained back. 37 pounds. I gained back 37 of the 70 I lost. At first I was super depressed about this, but then a little voice reminded me that hey, I was still 33 pounds lighter than when I started. I remember how excited I was when I lost 30 pounds, so shouldn't I still feel good about it now? Yes, yes I should. I guess it's the optimist in me. It's in my DNA to see the glass half full. So,  I'm beginning again, but not from a place of utter defeat. I'm starting again from a good starting place, where I can jump start again off the hard work that lost those 30 pounds to begin with. What am I going to do to get myself on the path? What I know works. Journaling my food, Moving my body daily. Cutting out the bread and sugar. Going back to my group. Daily prayer and devotional time. Allowing time for myself. Making my health a priority. Take one day at a time. All of these small steps over time produce results. Time to take a deep breath and begin again.

Starting Again

Well, here I am again. I can't believe it. I really thought I had a handle on my food issues, but I obviously I didn't. I lost 70 pounds and was well on my way to my goal of losing 100 pounds, so what happened? I was feeling so good! I felt healthy, strong, in control, alive! I just knew I would never slip back, yet I did. Why? 

I kept the 70 pounds off for over a year. I had never done that before. I thought my ability to maintain my weight loss proved I had conquered my food addiction. But, then life happened. It's not an excuse, but it's the truth.  I was in a job where I was verbally abused and harassed on a daily basis. But, the economy sucked and I needed the job. I worked long hours, and didn't get off work in time to go to my support group. Without accountability, I quit tracking. My daughter left home, I put on a huge wedding for her and then she left again, all the way across the United States. I quit my job and got a new and better one. Then, my 84 year old mother got the news: she had lymphoma and would need round the clock care as she endured chemo. It was during this time, I just lost it. I couldn't seem to focus on my weight, my food journal, exercise or anything. It was like I was just focused on bringing her through her ordeal and that was all that mattered. I didn't matter. So here I am. Scared to even step on the scale for fear of what it will say. I know I have to face it. I know you cannot change what you are unwilling to face. Why can't I face it?

I'm Not Perfect, But I've Still Lost 70 Pounds

The past three weeks have been crazy. My new job is, at times, overwhelming and draining. I'm working 10-12 hours every day. I feel my life getting out of balance, but I'm trying to get things back under control. I have been HORRIBLE about tracking and writing things down, but I've been working through lunch most days and if anything, on most days, I'm eating much less than my allowable 1500 calories. My exercise routine has suffered, too. But, I've been running around all day at work, using the stairs instead of the elevator and I've managed to get in 45 minutes to an hour of running each week. I've missed my group for the past two weeks, too. Yet, somehow, despite all of my failings, I'm still managing to lose weight. I dropped 10 pounds in this last phase and today I jumped on the scale, and I'm down another 5 pounds. So, despite my crazy work schedule, I've officially lost 70 pounds as of today. I'm not doing everything perfectly, but I am still sticking to my allowable foods list, controlling my portions, moving more and getting some running in each week. And most of all, when I'm stressed out of my gourd (and believe me there have been many stressful days lately), I'm NOT turning to food to soothe my frayed nerves. This, more than anything, is what is helping me continue in the right direction. I'm consciously choosing to deal with my stress, my emotions and my life by allowing myself to feel and process my feelings instead of stuffing them down with food. I've cried. I've been pissed. I've spoken my mind. I've prayed. I've sang. I've exercised. I've taken a nap. I've done many different things to cope with the stress of my life, but I haven't stuffed my feelings or my stomach. Maybe I'm finally learning how to really feel and really live. Maybe if I give up the notion of being perfect and just strive to do my best to do what I know to do (eat less, move more, and feel my feelings) I'll continue losing... and I'll never be this weight again.

I RAN MY FIRST 5K!!!!

I RAN MY FIRST 5K!!!! I DID IT!!!  On New Year's Day I got up at 8:00 in the morning and got ready to drive 30 minutes to the location of the "Annual Hangover 5K". I was SO nervous. Actually, I was scared to death. What if I was last? What if people laughed at the chubby girl trying to run a 5K? What if I couldn't finish? What if, what if, what if???? I felt nauseated and I almost thought of calling it off. But, I had been training for months to get ready for this and I had run it on the treadmill, so I knew I could finish it. But, most  importantly, I knew in my heart I would be so disappointed if I didn't do it. I've made so many excuses on my way to gaining 100 pounds, and I just didn't want to make one more excuse. I want to be a "finisher" and not a "quitter". So,  I woke my husband and my 12 year-old daughter and told them we were going. My husband said, great, they'd get ready and then he said he wasn't sure how serious I was about this. I said "very serious" and he said, "Let's go!" I love that man.
On the way there, my nerves were really getting the best of me and my husband could tell I was really nervous, so he said he and my daughter would run it with me. He is one of those amazing people who stays in pretty good shape all the time and so he can just decide one morning to run a 5K. And, my daughter had been in cross country for years and can run like the wind, so  I had no doubt they could join me with no problems. When we got there, we signed up and then WAITED. I saw many serious runners there, with special shoes and running gear and fancy gadgets to track their stats. I didn't care. I wasn't there to compete with anyone. I was there to compete against myself. I had something to prove, not to anyone else, but just to myself. There were some families running together and some older people running, too. I told my husband if the 80 year-old grandpa pushing his granddaughter in the running stroller beat me, I was just going to give up, but besides that, my only goal was really just to finish. I had told myself I would LOVE to finish in 45 minutes, but just finishing was the goal, and a 45 minute time, would be a bonus. My best time on the treadmill was 55 minutes, so 45 minutes was an aggressive goal for me.
We put ourselves at the back of the pack and when the horn went off, the first thing I noticed was that my lungs were burning! It was only 37 degrees and I wasn't used to the cold. I'd been training on the treadmill in my warm house, so the cold temperature really was a shock to my lungs. The next challenge I hadn't planned for were HILLS. Right at the start of the race was a long, steep hill. Wow, didn't see that coming! Many people walked/jogged up that hill, including me, but once at the top I started back into full run mode. After the fist mile, my lungs stopped burning and I got into a good stride. I was so thankful my family was with me. I was at the back of the pack and had I been alone, I might have felt so embarrassed I might have given up, but having them there with me, it felt okay to be at the back and we were running and having fun as a family. I'm so blessed to have such a loving and supportive family! The last mile there was another hill and my daughter had developed a blister, so my husband hung back with her so I could keep going. As I approached the last stretch, I saw the clock. I hadn't even been thinking about my time! I saw it said 46 minutes! I couldn't believe it! I thought with the cold air and the 2 killer hills, my time would be close to an hour, so imagine my surprise when I saw 46 minutes on the clock! I stepped up my pace and with complete strangers cheering me on, crossed the finished line at 47:21. I was elated! As I grabbed some water and started walking to my car,  I started to cry. I'd come so far. Just a few months ago I couldn't walk 3 minutes let alone run 3 miles. I'd lost 60 pounds and ran my first 5K at 42 years old. I was so thankful. I was thankful for the unbelievable support of my husband and kids. I was thankful for the encouragement of my family and friends. I was thankful for the support of my Prism group friends. I was thankful God had given me the strength to stick to my plan, even when I felt like giving up. I was thankful that finally at 42 years old, I'd learned to love myself enough to stop killing myself with food and start living life.
I'm so thankful I will never be this weight again!