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.

Seriously? Seven Week Weight Loss Plateau? SERIOUSLY?

I wrote this last week and never posted it...here you go...

I am feeling pretty discouraged right now. I've gone through a lot of emotions since weigh-in Wednesday (4/10): anger, embarrassment, defeat, anger, indignation, confusion, anger, desperation, guilt, depression, more anger. I thought about quitting. I talked about it. I begged for advice from people who have gone through this before. I got angrier. I got defiant. I decided to eat whatever the fuck I wanted. Then I felt guilty and tracked everything I ate. The cheese coma Wednesday night made me feel better for a brief moment, but I'm still mad. And guilty. And despondent.

Here's what's up: I have been struggling to get over this weight loss plateau for seven weeks now. It's really pissing me off. I have been losing and gaining the same pound over and over. Now I'm at a point where something's gotta give, or I'm just going to lose my fucking mind.

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!

More Numbers

I wanted to make myself feel better so I took some measurements. I was hoping that I would see some changes to my body, even if the scale isn't showing any progress.

All I found out is that my boobs are shrinking.

Lovely.

New dimensions:

Neck: 15"
Bust: 46"
Chest: 42"
Waist: 41"
Hips: 50"
Thighs: right 28", left 29"
Calves: left and right 20"
Ankles: right 10.5", left 11"
Upper arms: right 14", left 15"
Forearms: right 10.5", left 11"
Wrists: right and left 7"

This shows some progress (I guess) from the last time I measured myself, but it's still a little disheartening.

I bought myself some pretty things on Amazon to keep my mind off of food and my weight and my failures. I may go to Macy's next. Retail therapy is totally underrated.

Tagalong Plateau

LOSING WEIGHT SUCKS.

Seriously.

This is not fun. Well, it would be more fun if I were ACTUALLY LOSING WEIGHT. Instead, I've been losing and gaining the same pound for a month and a half. A MONTH AND A HALF! I am the same weight that I was on 2/20, even though I have been tracking everything religiously on Weight Watchers.

Is this was a plateau feels like?

I wouldn't know. I've never lost enough to even hit a plateau. Or when I did stop losing weight for even a week or so, I'd just give up and eat what I want. Like, fuck it, right?

But I'm really trying not to go that this time. I'm really trying to stay focused on losing weight, but it's SO FUCKING HARD.

Like Easter. Everyone else enjoyed Easter baskets full of candy and chocolate, or stuffed their faces with banana pudding and my grandma's special eclair cake. I measured, weighed, and tracked every morsel and...I didn't even get an Easter basket this year :( Yes, it's sad that I am 31 and this is the first year I have not gotten a basket. But STILL! That's sad.

At my weigh-in yesterday I think my meeting leader saw my frustration (or maybe the "FUCK!" that flew from my lips tipped her off) and tried to talk to me about some strategies. I told her I'm still nervous about working out, with my stupid non-functioning heart valve and all that, so she tried to find other sources of my weight loss stagnation. Not drinking enough water (it's true), not meeting my healthy guidelines for oil (well, if I have to choose between one Point of oil and one Point of chocolate, who do you think wins??), and then said something that made me want to laugh and cry at the same time (ala my favorite movie quotation, courtesy of Steel Magnolias: "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion..." but this was NOT a good emotion)...she asked if I had stress and said stress can make your body hold on to fat. I was like, "HA! Okay, so I have no hope?"

I mean, I have super high anxiety anyway. All the time. I take Xanax to manage it but it honestly doesn't do much good. On top of that, I just got a promotion at work last week so now I'm in charge of about two times more than I was before...and I was already in charge of a LOT. So if stress is going to keep me from losing weight, I should probably just throw in the towel now because this belly is not going anywhere.

But I won't give up. At least, not yet. She also gave me a few other suggestions: try eating a bigger breakfast (I've been eating a container of yogurt every morning for around five years now, so it makes sense that my body would get used to it) and a smaller supper (I stuff my face at supper because that's the time I have to cook big delicious meals, but if it'll help I will try).

Still, something's gotta give. Last week I lost .8 pounds, down to 249.4. This week, I gained 1.2 pounds, back up to 250.6. I've still lost over 50 pounds since I started out at 304 pounds in August, but this past month and a half has been really discouraging.

I hate missing out on good food. I know that in the long run I'll be happier and healthier and missing out on Girl Scout cookies for one year isn't going to make my big list of Life Regrets when I'm on my death bed. But I titled this post Tagalong Plateau because that was actually the name of one of my favorite cats growing up. I was a Girl Scout for 13 years and Tagalong Plateau is the name of a landmark reached by the Girl Scouts in some really weird old cassette tape I used to listen to before bed (which I sadly can't find anywhere and of which I can find no reference on the almighty Google). All of my cats had Girl Scout cookie names. I fucking love Girl Scout cookies. This year? ZERO cookies. I couldn't trust myself to buy a box because I totally knew I would eat the whole thing. I gave a donation to our local Girl Scout Council instead (partly to assuage my guilt over turning down all the cookie offers, and partly in support of their acceptance of gay scouts, which is a really big deal to me). But I'm SAD I didn't eat a Girl Scout cookie, and I STILL gained weight. Like, maybe I should have eaten a whole box just so I could point my finger and say "There, yep, that's why I gained weight...whole box of delicious cookies. Worth it." Instead, I'm looking back through my month's food tracker thinking "Wow, I made some really healthy choices and ate a ton of veggies and really cut back on the cheese and chocolate and all things delicious...so why the fuck did I GAIN? AGAIN?!"

I'm not giving up, but I'm getting more and more tempted to just go sit at a Golden Corral and stuff my face until they drag me away from the buffet with a trail of mac n cheese and gummy bears behind me...

Up & Down Like A Yoyo

I've been really frustrated with my weight for the past few weeks. No, I've been really frustrated with myself.

Ever since my birthday a little over a month ago, my weight has been fluctuating up and down like crazy. Sure, there are other factors at play: I drank a lot because it was my birthday, I was horribly constipated for the first time ever and though I was going to die, I pretty much stopped drinking water, I had my anniversary dinner and ate until I thought I was going to pass out, I tried to be a good boss by bringing sugar-laced green vodka and Puckers mixed with Sprite and served in sugar-encrusted shot glasses for St. Patrick's Day, I entered a Peep diorama contest (and won! yay!) which also meant the demise and consumption of untold number of Peeps, my girlfriend has been stocking up on Cadbury Creme Eggs like a squirrel storing nuts for the winter and won't tell me "no" when I ask for one...etc etc etc. So, yeah, I guess there may be some factors going on this month. BUT I still stuck to the Plan...

So why, on last Wednesday's weigh in, did I gain 1.4 pounds? I'm back up to 250.2 pounds, for a total loss of 53.8 from my 304 starting weight. Not bad, but not exactly on track. If I were losing 2 pounds per week, 10 pounds per month, I'd be down 75 pounds right now. I'm not even close! Gaining weight last week really pissed me off.

I told myself, "Well, that's okay, I ate a lot at my anniversary dinner and I haven't been drinking water and blah blah blah" but THEN I looked at my Weight Watchers weight tracker and grasped something that had escaped me in the past few weeks of bouncing back and forth over the 250 pound mark. I realize that in the one month since my birthday, I have GAINED a pound.

That doesn't sound terrible, given the list of excuses above. But I stayed on Plan! I recorded every bite! I counted the Points and carefully measured and weighed every thing I put in my mouth! So how could I have gained?

Something my mom said the other week stuck with me. She was talking about how my grandmother was meeting with a doctor about bariatric surgery, and my mom was depressed because no doctor would consider her for the same surgery given her medical history. I started talking about Weight Watchers and my mom said she would never be able to stick to it because she'd cheat. If she wanted to eat something, she'd pretend like she forgot to write it down, or something similar.

That's when I started to think that maybe I'm doing the same thing. Even though I stay within my Points for the week, I have definitely gone back through and lowered Points on other days when I am running out of Points. Like, if I want a Cadbury Creme Egg, I'll go to yesterday's tracker and say "well, I tore the crust off of that bread so it was really more like 3/4 slice, and part of the ranch dressing dripped onto my plate so that's closer to 1 1/2 tablespoons..." So I cheat. I really tried not to, and I told myself I wasn't, but I cheat. Just like I cheat at Monopoly without intending to.

Once I admitted I was doing it, I tried to be more honest about my measurements. I think that's the TRUE reason I've been having trouble losing this month. I need to stop cheating the system, and be honest with myself. I mean...I'm only cheating myself, and that's no fun. Especially when I'm not even winning.

Water, Water, Everywhere

I think I'm dehydrating.

And I'm blaming Netflix.

It's no secret that I'm a big fan of documentaries, and when I watch particularly convincing ones, I sometimes get wrapped up and try to incorporate that I learn into my daily life. Like, I still haven't bought any eggs at all since we watched Vegucated. I'm okay with that.

A few weeks ago, we watched the documentary Tapped and since then, my girlfriend has refused to buy bottled water. We have a water dispenser thing on the fridge, but the filter is dirty and hasn't been replaced since we moved in four years ago (we can't figure out where the filter is and we have no idea how to change it) so the water tastes terrible. So we can't use the fridge water. We also have a really nice reverse osmosis system that came with the house...but my dad broke it two years ago when he was trying to install a garbage disposal and we haven't fixed it. So we can't use that.

I really miss bottled water. But my girlfriend is trying to make a stand, and I don't want to stand in her way.

As a compromise, she bought one of those filter things for the kitchen sink so we can have purified water. I hate warm or room temperature water, though, and the aforementioned fridge filter issues mean our ice cubes taste gross too. So we've been filling pitchers of water and putting them in the fridge to chill. The problem is that I think the water absorbs all of the smells of the fridge and then it tastes weird. It's not like we have anything gross in there. It's just that all the broccoli and cauliflower and berries and spinach and stuff is always in there with the water, and I think it makes the water icky.

I've tried keeping the water in other bottles so no funky smells get in, but then I feel like it just traps other air in there and it, like, brews and stuff...or something. I don't know. I'm probably just imagining things, but I can't help it. I'm super picky about water. Like, I love Ice Mountain. I will drink it anywhere, any time. But I despise Dasani. Totally hate it. I would rather drink from a public drinking fountain than drink Dasani. So since there's no acceptable water in the house and my girlfriend doesn't want me to have bottled water, I've just been drinking Diet Dr. Pepper like crazy. It's making me feel sticky and queasy but I'm so thirsty and...ugh.

Since I have a weird Splenda sensitivity and I don't have enough Points to drink juice or even some nice green beer for St. Patrick's Day, I'm chugging aspartame like nobody's business.

I'm afraid I'm going to wake up tomorrow with a giant tumor from all of the aspartame. Or at least a third arm or something. But will the aspartame seriously make a difference? I wish I could get a straight answer online...damn you, Wikipedia, you've let me down!

I'm not meeting my daily Weight Watchers goals because I'm not drinking water, and I may or may not be killing myself with Diet Dr. Pepper.

What a life.

55 Pounds

Got another five pound star today at Weight Watchers!

I hit 55 pounds lost :) Down 2.4 this week, so I'm at 248.8 pounds now down from 304, for a total loss of 55.2 pounds.

I'm glad I'm back under 250 pounds. When I bounced around 249-252 for the past couple of weeks, I was getting pretty discouraged. I was so elated to get down under 250 pounds that I felt like a big failure when I gained again. Now I'm determined to stay under 250 pounds. I just don't want to go back there again.

I've also been failing at the 100 Mile March, but I don't feel as bad about that because, honestly, my stomach is still all crampy and I just don't feel like walking so even the little bit of walking I do at work feels like agony. I'm going to have to go to the doctor if things don't get back to normal soon.

All of that aside, I've been feeling pretty good this week. I went to the movies with my girlfriend, mom, and nephew on Saturday (To see Oz the Great and Powerful, which was totally fantastic! I'm not a huge James Franco fan, but I AM a HUGE Sam Raimi fan--I honestly think he's one of the most brilliant and underrated men in the movie industry--and I swooned to see Bruce Campbell! Bruce looked, well, disturbing as a Winkie, but to me he'll always be Autolycus from Xena and that makes me immensely happy!!!!!).

 God, I fucking love Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell.

I heard that they started a Kickstarter for a Veronica Mars movie, which I didn't watch and don't care about. But I think someone should start a Kickstarter for Xena! Bring back Xena! That would be the most amazing fucking thing ever. It ended way too soon. I mean, Xena and Gabs didn't even officially hook up (unless you believe in fan fiction, which I DO...)

Anyway, I wore my new black cowboy boots (faux leather, of course) with black tights and a dress, and I felt super hot. We rode there in the convertible with the top down, and I felt like a sassy vixen :) At the movies, I crossed my legs comfortably and kept them crossed for most of the film...for anyone else with legs like giant toy water snakes, you know that's an accomplishment. My mom even told me I looked great, WITHOUT saying anything like "You're going to look as good as your sister soon!". That's a big deal for me.

Then on Tuesday...this is a big one...drumroll please...I wore REAL PANTS! Like, real, non-elastic, fastening and zipping pants! Granted, they're a size 24, but I didn't even try them on for the longest time. Wearing any kind of regular pants cut into my stomach and made so much of my fat roll over the top that I looked like a mushroom and I had to wear like three Spanx just to keep my stomach smooth enough to pull a shirt over so it just wasn't worth it at all. Hence my obsession with stretch pants and leggings. But as it turns out, I probably should have tried on the pants a few months ago because they were a little too big for me! So even my skinny pants are getting big :) That's got to be a good sign, right?

And today, after the success of my pants-wearing on Tuesday, I decided to try on my camouflage pants that I've had for over a decade but haven't been able to comfortably wear for the past six or so years. They fit! They totally fit! I'm wearing them right now :) And they fit so well that I'm wearing a fitted black cashmere sweater and there are no rolls in sight!

Tomorrow is my seven year anniversary, so I hope the good vibes continue. I still haven't lived up to my New Years Resolution to get frisky, but now that I'm starting to feel a little more like myself, maybe it's actually in the cards. Well, the gross yeast infection and stomach issues will more than likely stand in my way. But a girl can dream, can't she?