OVERWEIGHT and SO happy about it!

I am OVERWEIGHT! For the first time in my LIFE! And I am absolutely fucking ecstatic about.

Lemme explain. Remember those stupid fucking BMI charts from health class or the doctor's office? The charts that look at your age, sex, and height only and assign you to a "healthy" weight range based upon these extremely limited variables? No accounting for muscles, for curves, for ethnicity, for irregular body shapes...just a totally cut-and-dry chart. I know calculating your BMI in front of your entire class is a horror shared across the country by chubby boys and girls, who decades later can feel the peculiar texture of classroom chalk held in clammy hands and who can remember being cruelly but undeniably classified as "obese". Well, with a few years and determination, I made it from Obese all the way to Morbidly Obese (a classification that didn't exist back in the day...a little sad that America needed to Supersize the BMI table).

A size LARGE dress
from the thrift store!
And sexy shoes too!

Now, for the first time in my adult life, I am Overweight! Goodbye, Obese! Hello, Overweight! I never ever thought I'd be so thrilled to be called overweight, but if it means that I'm no longer obese, I'll take it!

The gastric sleeve surgery really did wonders for my body. Surgery was 7/11/16 and I went from a highest weight of 317 (closer to 280 at the time of the surgery) to my current 191 pounds. Yep, I'm UNDER 200 pounds! Nerds People on the gastric sleeve message board call it "One-derland" which sounds ridiculously stupid yet I definitely feel a bit like Alice, shrinking in a body I don't fully recognize. It's awesome and I'm not complaining, but it is a strange feeling.

I also lost my job last November as part of a massive lay-off. I'd been there 9 1/2 years and now I REALLY have no idea what I want to do with my life. I have a great boyfriend who works from home (my home) so I have been actively avoiding returning to the real world. I blew my severance, cashed in my 401k and blew through that too (although I did take an incredible solo cruise to Mexico) and the suddenly realized I was TOTALLY FUCKED. I was just spending money like crazy, buying all kinds of ridiculous stuff on Amazon now that I can wear "normal" sizes, and then it seemed like I blinked and every penny was gone.

Now I'm desperately selling off my collections through eBay and Etsy (check out the shops! Adding more stuff every day!). I also set up a locked display case at a local flea market, hoping to sell some of the stuff that's more expensive to ship. One of my friends actually went in today and bought my vinyl album, "Harmonicats" :D Hey, $20 is $20! I tried filing my taxes but it turns out that I screwed myself even more royally by cashing out my 401k—even though they took taxes out, apparently it wasn't enough. So I can't count on a tax return this year. My roof if leaking, I just got a letter from the city that I need to connect my water to the city main and disconnect my sewer by April 12th, and EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. of my bills if past due.

So I'm hoping eBay/Etsy/my flea market shop will help, plus I filed for unemployment (which I should have done MONTHS ago when I was fired) and am just waiting on that debit card. I cashed in all of my stock from the company I worked for (seriously, fuck them.) and that check should be in the mail. Also, I'm donating plasma. It's kinda horrible actually, and I had to stretch the truth a bit to meet the eligibility requirements, and each time I feel really drained and empty and exhausted and kinda like I want to cry. But the initial payments are so high ($50, then $60, back to $50, then $60, then $75 on your 5th draw of the first month) that it's gotta be worth it. After the introductory rates, they go down to $25 and $45 each week, and although I just had my 5th draw I am very aware that my immune system is crashing hard, so I somehow doubt this will be the Big Hustle that's gonna help me pay my bills. On the other hand, it's better than nothing.

And one other good thing about the plasma center, other than the money: they weigh me each time, and every time it's under 200 pounds I wanna take my shirt off and swing it around my head in victory :P Oooh, and here's something that'll mean something to my pudgy comrades: they actually said the beige blood pressure cuff was too big and used the blue one instead! I still can't believe how strange (but good, definitely good) it feels to be "Overweight". That just seems like such a far cry from "Obese". I mean, I bought size 12 Gap jeans. I wear 6" stilettos everywhere because my feet no longer hurt from putting so much weight on such small heels. I wore a bikini in public on the cruise ship—not a fat girl high-wasted bikini but a sexy-ass "suit" that consisted of long band of black material and small black bottoms. And dammit, I looked GOOD! I went kayaking and didn't have to worry about being too fat to row myself back to the beach. I've been hit on by more strangers lately than I ever have been in my life. I took 4 separate airplane flights and did not get a single panicked or disgusted look from the fellow passengers in my rows. I can sit with my feet tucked under me without losing circulation in my legs. I can rest my chin on my knee! How many of you guys thought that was just a myth? Like just a writing device or something that couldn't be physically possible? It IS possible. I am so much more flexible...and I can bend in ways during sex that I never dreamed of...

So yeah, being overweight has its perks. I have a long way to go before my weight is technically "Normal" according to the BMI calculator but, seriously, fuck the entire BMI system.

TL;DR: I'm totally legit broke but almost a normal sized human for the first time ever!

Literally Always Hungry

I am never not hungry.

I can eat a full and balanced and even hearty meal, lean back complaining how stuffed I am, and then literally begin thinking about dessert while still swallowing my last bite of food.

I know I've talked about this before but I guess I just wanted to confirm that nothing's changed. I haven't lost weight and suddenly, magically stopped thinking about food every second of the day. I've lost weight in spite of constantly obsessing about eating, but it hasn't gotten easier.

I do what I'm supposed to. I drink enough water to be certain it's not dehydration. I make sure I eat enough protein and fiber to keep me full. I eat good sized portions, I do the whole stop-rest-assess Weight Watchers thing to avoid over-stuffing myself while making sure I'm actually full, and I try my best to stay somewhat busy and keep my mind off food. Somehow, though, I still have food on the brain 24/7.

There's this dumb Buzzfeed quiz, Should You Have A Snack? It's more of a joke quiz, but I've been trying to make myself take it when I start thinking about dessert while chewing the last of my meal. The sole question is, "When did you last eat?" The first option is "10 minutes ago" (although it's usually only been like 2 minutes since I ate when I take the stupid quiz) and it answers, "In a little while." Which is a really nice way of saying, "You seriously JUST ATE, you fat fucking idiot, don't stuff your face when supper isn't even down your esophagus!"

Even when I take the quiz and know I shouldn't eat, I find myself craving something sweet the second I'm done eating. I think about food while I'm still consuming other food. I plan my meals for the next day (and usually pre-track) so I have something to look forward to and so I can go to bed happy.

Right now I'm stoked for work tomorrow because I have awesome roasted veggie and black bean burger leftovers waiting in the fridge. Then I have zucchini feta galette planned for supper...yum. And tomorrow morning when I'm struggling to find a reason to get out of bed (I've been open about my issues with depression and some days it really doesn't seem worth it to even wake up), I'll remind myself of the delicious lunch and supper ahead and I'll force myself up.

I think about food all during work. I can't concentrate when there are cookies or cupcakes nearby. When I think about my vacations, I find myself remembering the meals. If someone is passing out candy, I almost pass out from the anticipation waiting to see if I'll get any and, if so, what. I look forward to holidays primarily for the food.

So when people comment on my weight and ask me how I've done it or if it's been easy or what my secret is, I laugh and say, "Well, I am literally always hungry.' I say it as though I'm joking, but I'm dead serious. I'm hungry right this minute. A year and a half of hunger and deprivation could be torture and maybe it'll eventually send me over the edge, but for now it's worth it.

Why?

Because I'm enjoying life. Because I'm coming more alive with every tulip that pushes up in my garden. Because I'm going to wear tank tops and shorts without feeling like an elephant on parade (Disney reference!). And because today, it was nice out so we took a ride in the convertible with the top down and I didn't feel self conscious, then we went to the park and flew kites which required running through a field and I didn't feel like a hippo lumbering through the grass, then I played at the playground with my nephew without worrying I'd crush the equipment, and now I'm going to bed happy and slightly hungry but good-tired. I'll wake up hungry and probably sore, but I'll take that any day over the life I was living at 300 pounds.

Yeah, I'm hungry ALL the time. But you know what? I don't feel fat all the time, and that makes all the difference to me.

Playtime

It feels so good to be able to play again.

I mean, really play.

To chase after my dogs and dash around the yard with their toys. To burst into activity and wind up giggling and flushed and breathless. To race my nephew to the playground at the drive-in without being embarrassed that everyone will be watching the fat girl flounder.

These are things I've missed without even realizing it. As my world begins its slow thaw after a desperately long and hard winter, I'm getting out more and testing the limits of my new heart valve.

On Friday after work, the temperature actually reached 60 so we took the convertible (with the top down!) to the park and hiked around places that I've only ever seen from inside a car. We hiked for 4 miles, passed through a bird sanctuary where the songs of dozens of species joined together in a rich cacophony, walked around the rim of a still-frozen lake where the ice was so thin you could see water rippling below the surface, and at one point broke through the trees to find an unexpected merry-go-round rusting at the edge of a picnic area.

I had thought merry-go-rounds were banned from playgrounds years ago, so I was excited enough to see it that I didn't care who saw ME. I sprinted to the contraption, threw myself in the middle, and held on as my girlfriend grabbed the bars and started spinning. A year or so ago, this wouldn't have happened. First, I wouldn't have even seen the merry-go-round because there's no way I would have been hiking. With 95 extra pounds and a heart valve that was almost completely grown shut, I wouldn't have even been at the park. I would have been home on the couch, enjoying the warmer weather through the window. And if I somehow was near a merry-go-round, there's just no way I would have gotten on. I would have been afraid of breaking it, afraid my girlfriend would be unable to spin it because of my size, and terrified that people would see me and whisper among themselves at the spectacle the fat girl was making of herself.

Being able to run to the playground and play without fear or shame was an experience I really can't describe to most people because they wouldn't understand. I felt joy. That's hard to put into words, but I felt free and happy and normal.

Normal.

Amazing.

100 Mile March…Or My Own Version

My workplace is always trying to be healthier (we have a great fitness center and trainer, free Weight Watchers,  quarterly gift cards for healthy habits, only diet sodas in the vending machines, etc.). It's pretty awesome actually. So this year they're promoting the 100 Mile March again. The idea is just to commit to walking 100 miles over the course of the month of March.

Last year, since I had lost a good amount of weight (like 55 pounds) by March and I felt pretty good, I decided to try it.

It was a dismal failure.

I walked every day for the first week. Seven days. My total distance walked? 1.5 miles. That's over a period of seven days COMBINED.

I was so disappointed.

I really did try, but I could only walk two minutes at a time before having an asthma attack and feeling like I was going to vomit.

I had no idea at the time that I was actually suffering from severe cardiac asthma and that my heart valve had grown shut and I was basically a walking heart failure bomb. I didn't find that out until June, and then had heart surgery in August to fix it. But in March, all I knew was that I sucked. That I couldn't even walk, even after losing so much weight.

It was seriously depressing.

So this year, to ramp up slowly and avoid such devastating failure, I'm making my own March. I'm doing a 30 Mile March.

30 Mile March?

Totally doable.

It's the 13th and I've logged right around 12 miles, so I'm perfectly on track. Between my Jawbone UP and my Map My Workout app, I'm doing a good job of getting extra steps in, along with taking short but trackable walks, like trekking a couple blocks with my employees for lunch, or walking around a cemetery while I wait for my girlfriend to get off work.

Even though the weather still sucks, we managed to take a great hike every day Friday through Monday last weekend. Sure, the trails were basically bogs and we had to slog and slide through six inches or more of mud in some places, but it was awesome to be outside DOING something.

I can't recall ever being in the woods before spring or summer. It's been cool to see the green moss peeking out from beneath the melting snow, and to see the trails without the curtains of leaves. The woods feel so open and bare without leaves. I kind of like it.

So I may not be confident enough for a 100 Mile March yet, but I'll do 30 miles. I'm ready for that at least. And I walked farther the first day this year than I did the entire first week last year.

That's progress!

GTFO Winter!

I can feel it in my bones.

Spring is coming.

It's about fucking time.

Of course, I'm still bracing for another Polar Vortex to come through and freeze us all just as we're beginning to thaw.

But I can see grass! The snow is melting, the birds are chirping, I didn't wear a coat yesterday! It was actually only 40 degrees, but it's all relative. After this winter, that feels downright tropical.

And with the spring, I feel my motivation slowly coming out of hibernation. I've been aching to be outside, and tonight it's supposed to get up to the mid-50s so my girlfriend and I made plans to take a couple hour hike at the park, followed by dinner out. That sounds so magical right now.

I gained again at Weight Watchers (2.8 lbs, which puts me back at 214.8). I expected it but it still pissed me off. I was grumbling about it before all the people getting re-dressed around me (following the weekly weigh-in-public-stripping) joined a chorus of "I gained too..."

Then I didn't feel so alone and defeated. I realized that this winter has been like a huge hurdle to everyone trying to lose weight. It's so hard to eat less when every single biological instinct is screaming, "Eat more! Fatten up or you'll freeze!" Seriously, half of America has basically been hibernating for the past four or five months. We've practically turned in to bears. It's fucking nature, right? We've been forced inside, in the dark. We all hurry to our cars after work, then shuffle inside as fast as we can while wearing snow boots and puffy coats. No one has shown any skin for ages. We've been bundled up in sweaters and arm warmers. We're filling ourselves with warm food, and sleeping in on the weekends because there's nothing left to watch on Netflix except the "Random Picks".

**Side bar: that's not entirely true. Netflix Streaming is a bottomless pit of potentially wasted time. But one thing I'm so glad I found was "The Best Worst Movie" and, by extension, Troll 2. How did I not know about this before?! I just watched both for the first time on Monday and now I can't stop watching Troll 2. It's so fucking awesome. Totally my kind of movie. I've seriously watched it 10 times already this week. It's like when I first watched "An Idiot Abroad" last month and then spent the rest of the month obsessively searching for Karl Pilkington YouTube clips. The man is incredible. Anyway...if you needed an idea of something to watch, you're welcome!**

So we've all been trying to push a boulder up a hill all winter, and the sudden sunshine and growing warmth means we're close to the top of the hill already. Or maybe we've rolled back to the bottom? Either way, we can stop pushing soon. Spring is coming. We can breathe again.

I'm really looking forward to seeing what I can achieve once the obstacle that is winter is finally out of my way.

Come on, spring! We're ready for you!

Snowpocalypse

If you're like half the country right now, you've probably been snowed in for days. And if you're like me, you've spent the past few days alternating between gorging yourself on all the food in the house and desperately attempting to ignore all of the food in the house.

Although I've given in a few times (WHY did my girlfriend buy Nutty Bars?! They are so fucking deliciously irresistible!) I've managed to steer clear of the really bad shit and stuff my face with grapes, cherry tomatoes, wasabi peas, and lots and lots of tea.

My sweet tooth has been acting up, though, so I decided to recreate my childhood snow day favorite: snow ice cream! This time, I made it Weight Watchers-friendly and it was oh so good!

I sent my girlfriend out for a big bowl of snow (I was not about to go out in the -15 mess) and I mixed it with stevia, skim milk, and vanilla. I ended up putting in two tablespoons of granulated sugar to cover the slightly bitter aftertaste of the stevia, and it was SO FUCKING GOOD. Why can't they make something like this in the stores? I mean, that bowl made a really huge amount of snow ice cream, so when I divided the sugar by the amount of servings (around four, although there was a little extra that we didn't eat) I didn't even have to count it as a single point. Why isn't there zero point ice cream?! Someone should invent it. Please?

Anyway, I can't wait for it to warm back up a little so I can play in the snow. Last Saturday, after our first snowfall but before the dreaded 'polar vortex' and the 10 extra inches, we went sledding with my eight year old nephew. I haven't been able to sled since before my first heart surgery six years ago--I never ever would have made it back up the hill. This time, with my healthy new heart valve and 90 fewer pounds, I kept sledding and sledding! I even raced him up the hill a few times. I'm covered in bruises, it feels like I compacted my spine, my chest and neck are sore, and I think I almost got frostbite on my fingertips, but I had SO much fun! Plus, I was able to count it as 15 Activity Points! Turns out sledding is pretty fucking physical (well, sledding is one thing, but climbing the hill over and over is the hard part).

This is the first time in so long that I've been able to actually enjoy the snow, and it's awesome! Now I'm just waiting for 'normal' winter temps and I'll grab my sled and head back to the hill to burn some calories and earn some more bruises.

Keep On Keepin' On

I am now officially smaller than I have been in my entire adult life.

I weighed in at my Weight Watchers At Work meeting today and was down 5 pounds for the week...which brings me down to 209.2 pounds. UNDER 210 POUNDS!

Total lost? 94.8 pounds.

That's, like...unimaginable. I weighed 304 pounds last August. Now, I'm literally smaller than I was in high school. I'm sitting here in size 17 skinny jeans, knee high boots, and a size 14 vest. WHAT?!

I'm still having trouble feeling like I'm that much smaller, though. I mean, I feel amazing, but I think that's like 75% having a heart valve that actually works and 25% being smaller.

But it doesn't matter. I AM losing weight, and everyone around me is commenting on it, and it's awesome.

When I entered my new weight into my Weight Watchers app, it let me know that I actually hit the last goal I set. I've been resetting my goal by 10 or 15 pounds at a time because, seriously, having a goal of losing 100+ pounds at the beginning would have just overwhelmed me and I would have quit this shit a year ago. So my latest goal was 210 pounds, which was a big deal for me because I can't remember ever being under 210 pounds since middle school I think.

Forced to reset my goal, I went with around 10 pounds less than my current weight. I SET MY GOAL AT 199 POUNDS. That's just...I mean, you can't understand if you haven't been there, but that's just fucking mindblowing. Not only am I actually aiming for less than 200 pounds...but it's attainable! Like, within 10 pounds! I couldn't help the tears forming in my eyes. After spending basically a lifetime weighing more than 200 pounds (which is such a shameful, stigmatized thing for a woman), I am now within sight of 199 pounds.

Fucking incredible. 

Lesbian Pants

I had a few nice moments today.

I was on a fun work trip to reward our top performers and saw quite a few colleagues from other departments--many of them haven't seen me in months, so I was delighted (and a little embarrassed) to find myself complimented throughout the day. Everyone was amazed at how healthy I look, both from the weight loss and from the heart surgery. Instead of hanging out at the snack table guiltily devouring cookies and pumpkin pie cheesecake, I talked to people about hiking, camping, bicycling, and basically being a normal adult. It was pretty awesome!

I also was really happy to be able to get on and off of the bus without feeling like I was squeezing down the aisles and hitting people's elbows with my stomach and ass. What a difference.

Plus, when I went on this same trip last year, I could barely walk around. I was so fatigued and winded from the heart and breathing problems that even walking from the bus to my table inside was difficult. This year, I couldn't wait to do more. We played paintball last year and, although it was totally totally fun and I really really love shooting at people, I ended up having an asthma attack merely walking out to the starting line. I spent the entire game last year wheezing and desperately hiding behind a wall while my face mask fogged up with my heavy breathing. I had to sit out the second game, and barely survived the third. This year...totally opposite! I was active, I ran behind targets, and I (along with my assistant manager) ended up winning against three guys! I'm a really good shot, and being able to scamper around the game site this year gave me much better vantage points from which to totally demolish the guys! I did get hit in the face (thank goodness for masks) but it was still awesome.

But one of the greatest things was my pants. I've had this pair of camouflage pants for years and years. I call them my lesbian pants. I wore them in college when I was going through my militant phase, and they always make me feel cool. They're baggy camo cargo pants that hung low on my hips, and they're so worn that the bottom few inches have torn away. They're splattered with paint and starting to get little holes, but I love them and used to wear them all the time. When I finally gained enough weight that I couldn't wear them, I kept them in my closet hoping that one day I could put them on again. Last year, I had only been on Weight Watchers for three months when I went paintballing but I decided to try on the pants...and they fit! They were tight, but I could wear them and felt like a badass again.

I wanted to wear them again this year because, well, I don't exactly have many paintball clothes nowadays and what's better for paintballing than camouflage? So I put them on this morning and they were TOO BIG! They hung down on my hips like they used to, and maybe even a little more. I wore them anyway with a tank top, long sleeved shirt, fleece vest, and hoodie (it was cold and I wanted lots of layers in case I got hit). I ended up having to keep one hand on my waistband the entire time I was paintballing because my pants kept slipping off! Like, my pants are literally FALLING OFF OF ME. That is so amazing. Pants that a year ago I was celebrating fitting into are now too big!

I'm sure I can find some way to repurpose the pants, but I don't think I can wear them again--at least not without a belt! What an awesome feeling.

Work, Bitch

Apparently my cardiac rehab is working--I not only feel stronger and healthier, I also lost 3.4 pounds at weigh-in this week. Nice!

I'm now down to 215 pounds even, down 89 pounds from my starting weight of 304 last August. 89 pounds...that's pretty crazy. That's more than my 9 year old nephew. That's more than my old Rottweiler. According to the list, I'm one pound away from having lost a NEWBORN CALF. Whoa.

As much as I hate going to rehab three times a week, I have to admit it's kind of nice. It's strange to have basically a regular gym schedule. And they don't just turn on the machines and let me go--I have to be hooked up to the heart monitors, they come and take my oxygen and heart rate and blood pressure while I'm working out, and every session they try to increase my time, my incline, my resistance, etc. After my heart surgery I was scheduled for 18 sessions, so I think I still have around 4 weeks to go.

Yesterday, though, was TOUGH. I kept bitching about the stationary bike (I'm not used to working the fronts of my legs, so it makes me tired really fast). Well, after they were nice and tried to switch things up for me, I wanted to go back to the stationary bike so badly! They had me on something called an Arc Trainer. I guess they're all the rage but I've never even seen one (obviously I don't exactly frequent a gym). It's basically like a nightmare mashup of a stair climber and an elliptical machine. It's fucking horrible.

The nurse had me start the Arc Trainer and I seemed to get the hang of it. Thinking I would be fine, she set it for 20 minutes and said that I didn't have to do the full 20 but just see what I could get through. Then she went to go make her rounds to the other rehabbers. After about 60 seconds, I was sweating and panting and my butt and hips were screaming in pain. After maybe three minutes, I thought I was going to pass out. I slowed down long enough to turn my playlist to "Work Bitch" (I love Britney, especially when working out now, and ESPECIALLY this song) and I powered through. I got to five minutes and started looking around for the nurse, trying to make eye contact. After about seven minutes, my chest was burning like it hasn't burned since before my surgery. I didn't want to stop and admit defeat so I kept going, but the machine started beeping some kind of heart rate alarm. I kept going, gasping for air, glaring straight ahead, determined and frustrated and possibly dying. Finally the nurse rushed over and told me my heart rate was way too high (duh) and had me stop. That was 11 minutes of pure hell. Seriously, it's like a torture device with fancy foot pads. So they put me on a range limiter for another 10 minutes as a cool-down and then I got to go home. In the car, my lungs and chest were still on fire and I was coughing up phlegm just like before my surgery when I was in a constant state of cardiac asthma.

Anyway, I survived and I told them I am determined to try it again on Monday. Just maybe for five minutes instead. My legs and ass are sore, and I have hip muscles that I've never felt before. Ouch. What am I going to do after my rehab is over? I don't have anyone to push me like that, and I don't know if I can push myself like that. Working out sucks but...well, if I keep seeing results at weigh-in, maybe it will be worth it after all.

The Lovely Bones

Let me tell you, it is SO WEIRD to see my collarbone. I walked past the mirror this morning and stopped in my tracks for a double-take. The rising sun slanting through the blinds in the living room cast shadows in the hollows, and I was stunned to realize they actually were hollows.

I have a real collarbone. One that I can show off. Not just the idea of a clavicle...an actual bone that I can run my fingers along and choose necklaces to lay against.

See, I've been fat forever. My entire life. I remember being chubby in kindergarten and I just kept growing up and out. Then I stopped growing up and kept growing out. Layer after layer of fat softened my body and buried my bones.

When you weigh more than 300 pounds, it's easy to forget you have bones at all. I started to feel like a candle stub that was dipped again and again in melted wax, each dip leaving another layer of soft wax, rounding me out and filling me up. When I was desperate, which was pretty much all of the time before I finally took control and began losing weight, I would imagine myself taking a knife and carving all the fat off my body. In all the times I envisioned this, I never once saw my blade hitting bone. An organ sometimes, yes, but I figured that would be a small price to pay to get rid of the fat. Never bone, though. I felt like my fat was packed into my lumpy suit of skin without bones or anything else besides fat and maybe blood.

I'm fascinated by x-rays of myself--it's so strange to see my skeleton. It seems like a different person almost. It's hard to believe that it's there, packed beneath all of that fat. It feels impossible that I'm made up of such small, fragile things. My bones seemed as mysterious to me as the bottom of the ocean.

But now I can SEE my bones. I can see the bone jutting out at my wrist, and my knuckles moving as I type. I can see the light on my cheekbones and the slight depression beneath them. My jaw is an actual jaw and not just the slope from my face to my chest.

Like I said, it's weird. But good. Definitely good. I'm still 217 pounds so there are still lots of layers to fat to melt away, but I can see that happening. I'm going strong. And this way is definitely preferable to carving my body out of fat--it may take longer, but there will be significantly less blood lost in the process.

A Whole New World

So...it's been awhile.

I'm kind of a different person now.

Weight-loss wise, I'm still trucking along slowly but surely. Not much has changed there...I'm struggling with sweets, craving all kinds of shit, and compulsively tracking and weighing my food to keep within my daily Weight Watchers points. It's rough, yeah, but after more than a year on Weight Watchers, I feel like I'm sort of a pro.

Plus, I'm now at 219 pounds as of yesterday's weigh-in. That's 85 pounds down from 304! It's been a little more than a year (I started last August) and I'm still doing the 1-pound-up-2-pounds-down dance, but it's working.

The REAL change, though, is that I have a new heart valve. And this one WORKS! If you're not familiar with my health struggles, here's a recap: in 2007 I had a root canal that, unbeknownst to me, introduced some bacteria into my bloodstream. I became extremely sick and was hospitalized in December of 2007 with streptococcus, double pneumonia, bronchitis, pleurisy, severe dehydration, malnutrition, anemia...not a pretty picture. The antibiotics didn't work, I almost died, and the bacteria turned into endocarditis on my tricuspid valve. Little bits were flecking off into my lungs and causing major breathing and infection problems and nothing helped. I eventually had open heart surgery in late January 2008 at the age of 25. While recovering, I caught mono and within a few months, the artificial heart valve stopped working. It was frozen in a half-open position which allowed blood to pass but which caused serious problems for me. I couldn't do any of the activities I used to do. I'd get out of breath walking up a single flight of stairs, I couldn't run or play, and my asthma got worse and worse. I rapidly gained 50 pounds and stayed that way, fat and sick, for about 5 years. Last August, I joined Weight Watchers hoping to lose some weight and become active again. I lost weight, but wasn't active. Walking was still nearly impossible for me. I was thinner but still miserable and totally sedentary.

This summer, things got worse. My oxygen was dropping down to 80% just walking out to my car (I started keeping an oximeter with me to check my blood oxygen because I always felt like I was just about to drown and could never catch my breath). My resting pulse was around 130 beats per minute. Those are not the signs of a healthy person. It became so bad that I stopped going to meetings at work because I couldn't walk there (I'm a department manager, so this was not so great for my job). I stopped making plans because I couldn't go anywhere.

Then I went to Bonnaroo in June. I've been to Bonnaroo 5 times before this year and each year since my surgery was a little more difficult. After losing so much weight (around 70 pounds at the time), I though I could handle parking in the 'normal' campground instead of the handicapped area. WRONG. We missed shows because I couldn't get there, it took us 2 hours to walk to Centeroo, and I was thoroughly miserable the entire time. It was the saddest Bonnaroo ever...which is even sadder because PAUL FUCKING MCCARTNEY WAS THERE and I was too busy just trying to breathe and not die to even enjoy the show!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, when I got back from Bonnaroo, I started going to my doctors and asking for tests. I needed to know if there was something else going on. My doctor and cardiologist and nurse practitioner checked my blood, my urine, did x-rays, EKGs, ultrasounds, etc. I'd been feeling like shit for 5 years, but it was like since I had lost 70 pounds, they were taking me seriously for the first time. The cardiologist said, "With how much weight you've lost, you should be feeling great." So instead of passing my symptoms (difficulty breathing, high pulse, severe fatigue, exercise intolerance, dizziness, etc) off on my weight, they started searching for real answers. I had them check for thyroid issues, vitamin deficiencies, lupus, internal bleeding, hepatitis, everything I could think of that would explain my problems and why I wasn't getting better.

They finally did a tranespophageal echocardiogram and determined that very little blood was actually flowing through my non-functioning mechanical valve. A cardiac surgeon met with me and wanted to try replacing it again. I was terrified. Seriously terrified. I mean, it was bad enough the first time. I wasn't sure if I could deal with the pain, the scars, the risks, missing work. However, I'd worked so hard to lose weight that I felt like I'd made a commitment to my health and I should try the surgery if they thought it might make my life a little better.

So I scheduled the surgery. I had to wait one month, and it was a fucking horrible month. I made all of my FMLA and short term disability arrangements, assigned my work duties to my employees and assistant manager, and made thorough user guides for all of my job responsibilities. To be honest, I was fully expecting to die during surgery. I spent that month making my final arrangements, writing out a will, gathering information for my cemetery plot, and saying goodbye.

The surgery day came and when they strapped me to the table in the operating room, tears were streaming hot down the sides of my face. I knew it would be the last time my eyes would be open.

But around 12 hours later, my eyes did open again. I made it. Well, just barely. That first night, my pulse kept dropping down to the low 40s and they had to put in a pacemaker to get me regulated. But when they turned off the pacemaker the next day, my pulse was steady. My blood pressure was good. I was alive.

They replaced the broken mechanical valve with a bioprosthesis from a cow. As a vegetarian for more than a decade, I was really upset about using a cow's heart. But I asked my friends and family and Facebook to have a Beef Free Day on the day of my surgery--I was overwhelmed to find out how many people committed to not eat beef that day. It made me feel better. We saved part of a cow, and part of a cow saved me :)

The surgeon was horrified by the condition of the mechanical valve. It's not like you can just peek in and see how your heart valve looks, so no one really knew how bad it had gotten. The surgeon was so blown away he took a picture of the valve to show my family...brace yourself for something seriously nasty. The mechanical valve they took out is below (shown from both sides).

Yeah...no wonder I felt like shit.

Within maybe 48 hours, I was able to get up and walk around. And I COULD walk around! Even with the bandages and open incisions, the IVs sewn into my skin and the telemetry wires coming out of every opening in my gown, I could walk. Once they got the catheter out, I started walking. That first day without the catheter, I walked halfway around the cardiac ICU floor of the hospital. I could not have walked that far before the surgery! The next day, I made it a full lap in the morning. Then I made another lap after lunch. That day, I ended up walking 6 laps around the hospital floor. I NEVER would have made it 6 laps around the hospital floor before the surgery! Seriously, I can't really express just how bad it was before, and how fucking amazing it was after. The fourth day, I walked 20 laps around the hospital floor! The patients in the other rooms all watched me and the nurses encouraged me as I shuffled around over and over, clutching the heart-shaped pillow to my chest incisions. They have markers every 25 feet along the wall, and one lap is 500 feet. 20 laps is 10,000 feet, which is nearly two miles! Sure, it took me all day...but I walked TWO MILES! If you've read my other posts, it took me four days to walk a single mile back in March. Two miles in one day is a total fucking miracle for me.

The fifth day, they sent me home!

I still had a long recovery ahead of me. They had to cut a bunch of muscles and nerves to get to my valve, so I can't lift more than 5 to 10 pounds. I have a total of 8 incisions (two of them very large) and 7 holes from the pacemaker, IVs, etc. I've been off work for just over a month now. But I AM RECOVERING.

My first week home, I had to have someone with me 24/7 in case anything went wrong. My amazing girlfriend, who had stayed in the hospital with me the whole time (just as she did in 2007 and 2008) took care of me when I got home. That first full day home, I asked her to take me for a short walk. We got dressed (in my sexy Velcro bra the hospital gave me, and with the heart pillow held tight against my chest) and we walked around outside for 10 or 15 minutes. Here's the crazy part: that was the first time we'd walked anywhere in the neighborhood in the 4 years that we've lived here.

After that, I started walking a little more each day. Some days the pain was bad and I could only do 10 minutes, but I still made myself walk 10 minutes where before, I would have just stayed on the couch. Then the neighborhood suddenly seemed small. We started going to parks near us. After the first couple of weeks, we even tried hiking. I went from not being able to walk from my car into my desk at work, to hiking for an hour without stopping.

Last weekend, we hiked for 4 hours and it felt completely amazing!

I've been eating a lot while I've been at home on short term disability so I'm not losing weight any faster, but I'm getting stronger. I feel healthy. I feel GOOD. I feel like the world has opened up to me. We went to St. Louis for a funeral and I actually felt guilty about not walking during the day we spent in the car. After the funeral, we went to the St. Louis Zoo and walked around for 2 hours. Before, we would have shuffled from one bench to the next and missed half of the zoo. This time, we went on every single path...AND we parked in the free parking down the street instead of wasting $15 for a close spot.

It really is a whole new world for me. There's so much I want to do now. I'm still in pain and I'm still healing, but I should be returning to work next week. Now I'm already planning to take advantage of our on-site gym and personal trainer for the first time since I started working there. I've completely stopped taking my inhalers because, as it turns out, I don't even have asthma...all of my breathing problems were cardiac-related.

Also, my cardiac rehab starts tomorrow. I'll slowly learn how to move my body again. I'll get faster, and stronger, and healthier.

I couldn't be more excited.

Bonus: here's a picture of me before Weight Watchers, and a picture of me last week. I still have a long way to go, but look at the difference! I might need a new cardigan soon!

Let's Get Physical

I'm feeling pretty confident about tomorrow's weigh-in. I've eaten right all week, cut out those dreaded Fiber One bars, and I'm recovered pretty thoroughly from that plateau. Stupid fucking plateau. I don't want to get my hopes up too much, but today after work I weighed myself (okay, I hadn't had any water all day so maybe I was dehydrated, but still) and the scale said 242.8!

SERIOUSLY!

That's a weight loss of more than 60 pounds from my starting weight of 304! Again, I don't want to get my hopes up...but I'm pretty sure I'll be down at least 3 pounds this week, which is going to put me right around the 60 pound mark. Not quite to my next mini-goal of 240 but pretty damn close!

We'll see what happens at weigh-in tomorrow. But the odds appear to be in my favor!

Plus, I made a pretty remarkable accomplishment this week. I worked out. TWICE. I know, I know, most people do that, like, every day. But I haven't REALLY worked out since..well...probably since before my open heart surgery, which was over 5 years ago now. This wasn't anything strenuous--just this yoga/pilates combo dvd that I used to do all the time in college. I used to love getting stoned and listening to the British chick speak in such calming tones, telling me to keep my abs strong and breathe into my poses.

Turns out that it's still really fun and relaxing!

But I was so incredibly sore afterward. I felt like someone shoved me down a mountain and I hit every rock on the way down. Sitting on the toilet hurts. Coughing hurts. Putting on my shoes hurts. But it's a good pain! I haven't had workout pain for a long time! It's making me feel stronger, which is helping me feel even better about myself. It's like I keep looking in the mirror and seeing the girl I used to be. I don't see the sloppy matron in baggy pants and a cardigan--I see the hot vixen again. I feel like I'm getting my spark back.

I'm basically at the weight that I was all through college--a few more months and I might actually be smaller than I was in college. What a miracle that would be.

Over The Hill! Or Plateau, Whatever

FINALLY! Seriously, FINAL-FUCKING-LY. I got over it. I broke through the plateau. I thought I was going to give up. I really thought about moving to Canada and living as an Inuit under layers of fur and hide. I didn't think it was going to happen. I didn't think I was going to make it.

But I did.

My Wednesday Weight Watchers weigh-in outcome: down 3.8 pounds, for a grand total of 56.8 pounds lost and a current weight of 247.2. This is the smallest I've been in 5 years. That's a big deal for me. But breaking through that fucking plateau feels like an even more remarkable victory.

I was really feeling crazy. Seven weeks without losing weight, when you're really working hard at it, is so devastating. Incredibly discouraging. I for real thought about quitting, but I had some kind friends and strangers (including randoms from the Weight Watchers community board, who somehow saw my surrender flag and rushed in to give me advice and support) who helped me put things into perspective. Like the fact that I had already lost over 50 pounds--did I really want to go back to weighing more than 300 pounds? That answer is a clear NO FUCKING WAY. I don't want to go back. But I just psychologically could not continue following Weight Watchers without losing weight. I couldn't keep passing up second helpings and limiting my delicious cheese intake without seeing some results. I was ready to go fucking crazy.

And the weirdest part is that I think I figured out what was causing my plateau, and completely preventing me from losing weight. The culprit: Fiber One 90 Calorie Bars. Seriously!

After pretty consistently shedding weight from August through mid-February, I abruptly stopped losing weight. Everyone said to stick with it and the plateau would break. I waited a week, two weeks, three weeks...oh my god, every weigh-in was so horrible. I couldn't figure it out. I was weighing and measuring all my food, I was drinking enough water, I was moving more and being active and even doing stuff I don't normally do, like playing on playgrounds with my niece and nephew and hiking down to the creek to take pictures. That scale was not budging. I tried all of the little tips people gave me: switch up my breakfasts, try alternating high- and low-Point days, take a walk, drink more water.

When nothing was working, last Thursday I tried thinking of anything that had changed at the end of February to make me stop losing weight. I had already wracked my brain for changes in activity, medication, whatever. Then it struck me: late February was when my girlfriend discovered Fiber One bars and I LOVED them! I started eating those Fiber One brownie things (they're only 2 Points) and then the Fiber One 90 Calorie Bars (the caramel pretzel is amazing). I was eating them every day, sometimes one of each every day. I was counting the Points and everything, but somehow I guess my body just went nuts. I stopped eating them last Thursday just to see if it made a difference, and I lost a pound overnight. That hasn't happened in months. Then I kept them out of my diet all week until weigh-in just to see, and I was down 3.8 pounds.

Amazing.

Oh, and I'm, uh, having my 'monthly cycle'...which means I will hopefully/probably lose next week too.

It feels really good to be back on track, but even better knowing that I stuck with it even when I was discouraged and really pissed off. I've never stuck with anything that gave me SEVEN WEEKS of failure. The fact that I continued to eat right, continued to track my food, and continued to make good food choices instead of falling completely off the wagon means that maybe something has changed that's more than a scale victory. Maybe my brain is changing. It feels like everything's coming together right now--I'm finally losing weight, which has been my dream and fantasy for so many years without me ever making much progress. I also got promoted at work, so now I'm a department manager overseeing two creative teams. I have my dream job at a magazine, I have an amazing girlfriend who puts up with my tantrums, I feel pretty hot right now, I'm getting compliments from everyone about my weight loss, my skin looks fabulous thanks to all of the cool products I'm trying (blame that one on my serious subscription box addition), my hair is my favorite color of Cotton Candy Pink (a happy accident--apparently bleaching purple hair makes it turn pink and all you can do is add more pink), the birds are singing, flowers are growing, and the weather is turning nice so I can finally put the top down on the convertible.

I think this is going to be a good spring.

Tumbling After

I don't want to jinx myself, but I may have knocked my body off its weight loss plateau.

I'll have to wait until my Wednesday weigh-in to know for sure, but I think I'm actually starting to lose again. WHEW. I was getting really frustrated and depressed over my lack of progress for the past month and a half.

My Weight Watchers meeting leader told me to try eating different breakfasts (apparently if you've been eating Yoplait pretty much every single morning for five years, your body gets used to it...who knew?) so I've been making banana berry smoothies and having a Fiber One bar a little later. Plus, I've been trying to get in my daily recommended healthy oil. I don't know why eating more oil is going to help, but if it works I don't care why.

Even if I don't lose this weight (but I seriously fucking BETTER lose this week) I'm still happy:
I rode in a go-kart today WITH a six year old kid and I didn't crush her! After all of my painful and cringe-worthy moments at the amusement park last summer as a result of my weight, I was really nervous about riding the go-karts. I was there with my niece (technically my girlfriend's niece, but I think since my girlfriend and I have been together longer than she's been alive, I have the right to call her my niece. Besides, she's called me Auntie all her life anyway...which I love :)). Her grandparents asked her who she wanted to drive with her since she's not tall enough to ride alone, and I died a little inside when she picked me. I did the usual watch-everyone-in-line-to-see-if-I'm-the-biggest thing. And I pretty much hyperventilated the whole time waiting to board. When we got in the car, though, I was able to fasten the seat belt comfortably and we sat side-by-side without her being squashed into the corner. And since I fit and I was comfortable, it was FUN! Really fun! And all of the pictures everyone took as we whizzed past turned out fine, without my double chin dangling down like a turkey wattle.

On top of that, I've been getting compliments from people this past week and it's awesome. Seeing my family at Easter started off the good-vibey warm-fuzzies week with everyone telling me I look good. My girlfriend commented several times, one of my best friends who only gives compliments rarely and very begrudgingly told me I've obviously lost a lot of weight, and my girlfriend's family was impressed. And then one of my employees sent me a note telling me I look great and to keep it up. I immediately employed my weird compliment-brush-off by complaining about not making any progress for over a month, and she responded with a bit of wisdom that I REALLY needed to hear. I wish I could remember exactly how she phrased it, but it was something like, "Even people climbing Mount Everest stop at base camp along the way."

So maybe this plateau is just base camp. I'm adjusting to the altitude. Now it's time to pack up my shit and move on!

Under 250 Pounds...FINALLY!

 

I did it! I am under 250 pounds for the first time in around five years!

This is the best birthday present EVER!!!

I actually took today off for my birthday, but I had my girlfriend bring me to work briefly so I could weigh in at Weight Watchers. I knew I had lost this week (according to my lovely new scale, at least) but I wanted a concrete number before I went out for lunch. I needed to decide if I should have a margarita...well, I'm glad I went because I ordered a large margarita and didn't feel bad about it at all :)

I was down 3.2 for the week, for a grand total of 54.8 pounds lost. That brings me down to 249.2 (from my starting weight of 304 on August 8th, 2012).

I was afraid I would never be under 250 pounds again. For so long, I just assumed that I would always be over the maximum weight limit for everything--lawn chairs, step ladders, inflatable rafts, hammock chairs, ziplines. Now I can officially zipline! I can sit in a lawn chair without feeling like it's going to immediately crumble under my weight! This is AWESOME!

Since my Weight Watcher's goal weight was set at 250, it was time for me to pick a new goal. I thought about 243 because that will be a loss of 20% from my starting weight, but I want to be a little more ambitious (without going too wild!). I set it at 225 pounds. That doesn't feel so far away right now, which is why I think it's a good goal, but it's also a LOT mentally.

I haven't been 225 pounds since the summer I graduated high school. I was at 230 pounds at graduation, started the Atkins diet while I was killing time before college, and I got down to just over 210 pounds. Then college started and, well, the Freshman Fifteen hit me hard. I fluctuated between 220 and 240 for years. If I can get under 225 again, I feel like I can go all the way :)

Oh, and today I saw the girl who inspired me to start Weight Watchers--she hit 125 pounds lost! Hey, I'm almost halfway there!

50 Pounds! Celebrate!

Down 3 pounds! Therefore...

I've officially lost more than 50 pounds!!!!!!!

I'm at 252.3 pounds. I've lost a total of 51.7 pounds. So that means...I got my 50 pound token from Weight Watchers!

50 pounds is a LOT! When we went to Cancun, I brought about 20 outfits and 10 pairs of shoes (yes, seriously, and we were only there for four days) and I was certain that my bag was going to be over the weight limit for checked luggage. It was the biggest suitcase I own, and I had to have my girlfriend help me lift it into the cab and onto the scale at the baggage check desk, but it came in at 43 pounds. I lost MORE than my giant suitcase full of crap!

Or, more than an entire bale of hay! (Yes, the list of equivalents is still getting much use.)

I've been looking back through a lot of old pictures, and I can tell a big difference in my face. My cheekbones were hidden for so long, and my chin just sloped down to my chest like a fanny pack of fat strapped around my neck. It's nice to look down without feeling the resistance of my chins squishing back up.

I ordered a pair of tall boots and, although they didn't go all the way up, they went much further up my leg than they would have six months ago! They're slouch boots so I'm keeping them anyway--and when I wore them to work on Thursday, I actually felt a little sexy. That's a far cry from where I was in August, when I hated even waddling down to the mailbox because I was embarrassed of what our neighbors might think.

Now that I'm so close to 250 pounds, I can't wait to hit that goal. I'm glad I hit my 50 pound loss, but getting down below 250 pounds is even more important to me. I remember being 250 pounds. I can't remember being any of the weights I reached from 250 through 304 (and possibly beyond). 250 pounds was always my "panic weight" where I'd freak out and start taking Trim Spa or snorting Adderall until I was back down to 240 or 230.

Now, I'm trying to get to 250 from the other side (the healthy way)--and I'm almost there!

Ups and Downs

I lost again this week! CELEBRATE!

I'm down 1.6 pounds this weigh-in, which brings me to a total loss of 47.8 and a current weight of 256.2.

I'm still firmly in the 250s, and it feels great :)

I have a journal from my senior year of college--2004--lamenting, "I went to the doctor and weighed 256! This is the biggest I've ever been!" The rest following several pages contained angsty complaints about my body, desperate promises that I would turn my life around, and careful documentation of every morsel of food I put into my mouth. I started reading Dr. Phil and wrote about how much sense he made and how great I thought I was doing. Of course, I was also snorting Adderall and binge drinking every night, so whatever I ate probably wasn't going to do me much good anyway. The lists were things like "3 tortilla chips, 1 bag of Skittles, 1 bottle of Mad Dog, 1 baked potato, 1 large order of onion rings, 2 bottles of Boone's Farm, vodkaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..."

So, well, I didn't get very far. I stopped writing in that journal. My weight continued to fluctuate. I graduated, couldn't afford food, and dropped down to 230 on a diet of rum and ramen. My Dr. Phil book is still in my bookshelf, beside a neat row of food journals, self-help books, hypnosis how-tos, and other worthless paper.

At the time, I know I NEVER thought I'd end up eating my way to over 300 pounds. I felt sexy, even if I was fat, and I thought I had at least enough self control to stop myself from ballooning up another 50 pounds.

But it happened.

Now I've just got to celebrate being this size again. My next milestone will be 50 pounds lost--and that's only 2.2 pounds away. Amazing. After that, I want to get under 250 pounds. Next, I'm looking forward to being 230 pounds again and remembering what it was like to still be comfortable in my body. 10 years later, though, I'm sure there will be a lot more sagging and grossness than there was in college. After that, I'll be approaching my high school weight. I remember working at Lane Bryant the summer after high school and religiously abiding by the Atkins diet--I got down to 215 pounds, size 14/16 jeans, and then went to college and began a new life of partying and killing myself from the inside. God, I hated Atkins. That was before I was a vegetarian (duh). I subsisted on Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers from Wendy's, minus the buns, and sugar free Jell-O from MCL cafeteria. Gross.

It's so fucking awesome to have Weight Watchers in my life now. Looking back to all of the diets I tried in the past, I realize that I knew I wanted to lose weight but those diets weren't helping at all because I didn't know how to feed myself. Now I feel like I finally have the tools, I have the determination, and I've had a taste of success that's made me hungry for more.

Also, this article made me smile: http://www.thedailymeal.com/too-good-be-true-diet-trends-literally-and-what-you-should-try-instead-slideshow

Weight Watchers is one of the GOOD suggestions! I don't think I've ever been on the "good" diet side before! I'm used to the fad diets, the miracle methods that make lofty claims and let me down, books with chapter after chapter of anecdotes and advice but no real help. This is like confirmation that Weight Watchers works. Although I think 47.8 pounds might be confirmation enough for me.

Movin' Right Along

 

Now that I'm officially in the 250-pound-range I'm finally starting to notice awesome, tiny ways that my body is changing.

For example, I rested my chin in my hands today and actually felt my jawbone.

I felt my JAW!

Not the pudgy, doughy, squishy stuff I usually feel when I rest my chin in my hands. Sure, I can still sink my fingers in and squish the fat around, but there's bone under there!

Also, my rings are getting loose! My girlfriend and I exchanged rings in our fifth year together, and my black and white diamond band is falling off of me now...that's a good and a bad thing :) When I get cold, I have to be especially careful not to lose it.

Oh, and less of my legs rub together when I walk! Less, not none. I mean, let's be real--I'm still 258 pounds. Still, less is good! I can feel my knees moving, and even my lower thighs. My upper thighs still rub together, but there for awhile when I was at or over 300 pounds, there were days that I felt like my legs were stuck together from my knees up. When I walked, my legs were so fat that it seemed like only the lower halves of each leg would bend.

AND I can cross my legs again! It's actually somewhat comfortable! Before I started losing weight, I could barely cross one leg onto the other knee. I sometimes had to grab my shoe/ankle/bottom of my pants to pull my leg up. But now, not only can I cross one ankle onto the other knee--I can cross my whole leg over and dangle my top leg down! My thighs have been way too big to do that for a long, long time!

My shoulders feel sharper. My cheekbones look more defined. The thin bones in the tops of my hands show when my fingers move. My dog can jump in my lap and he has room to turn around before flopping down. I can look down at my heart surgery scar without my double chin getting in the way. My underwear doesn't start cutting into my skin by the end of the day. When I cross my arms, my arms tuck under my boobs instead of resting on my stomach out in front. My coats are getting looser. I can scoot my chair in farther at my desk. I can see muscles in my neck move when I swallow. Nurses can find my veins when drawing blood. The tops of my feet don't start bulging over my flats when I wear them all day. There's a gap big enough to reach my hand into when I put on my boots. I can feel the entire length of my clavicle when I run my fingers across. The arms of my glasses don't indent the fat on the sides of my face. When I wipe myself, I don't have to reach far down around my stomach. I can slide between two people to get through a hallway, instead of waiting politely until someone moves. My new maxi dress falls as it should, instead of draping over my stomach in the front. My bras fit better. The backs of my arms are smoother. I can tilt my head all the way back without feeling rolls of fat on my neck and shoulders and the base of my skull. I can lie on my side without my stomach spilling out across the mattress. When I put my hands on my hips, my sides feel almost smooth.

 

These things may not seem like much, but they're huge to me. I always thought about my weight before, but I guess I became numb over the years to the small physical ways my fat got in my way. Now that I'm losing weight, it just makes me more thankful that I'm finally breaking free from that prison of lard. I can actually start to see and feel a difference, which is helping to firm my resolve.

It's kind of sad that it took losing 46 pounds before I could really tell a difference. But I'm making progress. I'm still moving toward my goal. 258 is a lot better than 304. And now that I'm here, I really don't want to go back.

The Incredible Shrinking Woman

I'm flying pretty high this weekend!

Yesterday, Friday, I got my latest shipment from Macy's. I am 100% obsessed with Macy's clearance online--half of my clothes come from there. I sort by price, lowest to highest, and get so many incredible and cheap finds (and so many compliments!). I normally wear a 3x in just about anything from Macy's. The clothes run a little more snug than, say, Old Navy (where I almost always get a 2x). But when I was placing my last order, I decided to throw caution to the wind and ordered everything in a 2x.

It ALL fit!

I got a new charcoal gray jacket, a ruched black top, a cream and lace short skirt, an olive sweater dress, and a black cardigan. I cannot believe that everything fit perfectly! The jacket look awesome, and it's so much more flattering than the bulky down coat I've been wearing.

And the kicker? The skirt is NOT elastic waist! I would not have risked ordering it if I had known it was a zippered skirt. It has a little give on the sides, but it's definitely not the fully elastic kind of skirt I'm used to. And it fit perfectly, without giving me any bulges! I can't wait to wear it.

Still excited from trying on yesterday's purchases, this morning I decided to try on a pair of snakeskin print jeggings I got in the fall. They had been on a really good sale (like $9 or something) so I had gotten them in a 2x, the only size they had, thinking they were more like stretch pants and I'd be able to squeeze into them. They're actually more like denim, so  they were too tight and I never ended up wearing them (but at that price, it wasn't worth taking them back). When I tried them on this morning, they looked awesome! With a long red tube top, a tight black v-neck sweater, and some studded black flats, I felt super cute!

I wrapped up in a black and white plaid cashmere scarf, let my dark purple hair down, slicked on some cherry red lip gloss, found some big black aviator sunglasses, and my girlfriend and I put the top down in her new convertible and cruised around for hours. Today it actually hit 60 degrees (in January...global warming?) so we really wanted to ride in her car with the top down for the first time, but I've been self-conscious about what people would say or think about us at red lights. You're so exposed in a convertible. But today, I felt so cute, I was in heaven riding around in the sunshine!

I love feeling cute again. It's been so long since I've been able to handle people looking at me. At 300 pounds, I felt like anyone who glanced my way was laughing at, judging, or disgusted by me. Now, at 260 pounds, I know I'm not small but I feel confident enough that I can think maybe, just maybe, they're thinking nothing more than 'man, it would be nice to be in a convertible today!'.

:)