Start Weight: 300
WI #2: 297.6
It's a loss. A good loss. I had thought it would be more. But, I'm not complaining. I have a few tweeks to make.
I like to go to hip hop on Friday night. I cannot eat dinner before class. It is at 7:00. I need to leave by 6:30. I don't want to eat late, so, there is the conundrum. This week, I'm going to try to eat a protein bar around 4:30 or so, and then see how I feel after class. I may not really need a full-on dinner.
DH, on the other hand, gained. He did not deserve a gain. It *has* to be that he did not eat enough. Or some other fluke.
I swam laps yesterday for the first time in a while. I live in sunny California! I should take advantage of nice weather as long as I can, since I truly love swimming.
This week's exercise routine:
Monday: hip hop
Tuesday: Group interval training
Wed/Thurs: off but activity such as a walk
Friday: hip hop
Saturday and or Sunday: swimming.
Cheers to a good week!
Monday, November 10, 2014
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Some pictures--my weight ups and downs
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The bottom picture is of me on Monday, November 3, 2014. I already told you my weight!!! I am fat! BUT, I think I carry my weight well. Although I'm not athletic now, and never have been, in spite of trying track in junior high, and swimming in high school, I am active. I always say "If exercise could make me skinny, I would be!" But, you can't out-exercise a bad diet.
Meeting Joe!
Here's some HAPPY!
I was in a pretty dark place in my life when I met Joe. I am not good alone. But, I had been alone for a long time, and I was just very very unhappy.
A co-worker of mine told me that he thought I'd fit in really well with his game night group and invited me to join. So, one evening in September, in 2010, I went to his house to meet the gamers. Joe was one of them. I actually thought he was with one of the other girls, but, alas, that was not true.
I thought he was sweet, and kinda cute, but wasn't really trying to hit on him or anything. I had said "I like your watch." He took it off and handed it to me. I laughed. I still laugh. I didn't say I wanted his watch! Anyway...
I started friending the gamers on Facebook, and when it came to him, we started chatting. We dated for about a month, then, he BROKE UP WITH ME!!! On Thanksgiving night. It was terrible.
We remained friends during that next year. He would pick me up and take me to game night, because I didn't have a car at that time (I took public transportation everywhere), so we saw each other at least weekly. He knew I had feelings for him, but he just wasn't sure.
Almost exactly a year later, his feelings had grown. I've learned that it takes him time to make a decision, but when he does, it's forever. He is not swayed by other's opinions or ideas. He has to make up his own mind. But once he does, it is pretty much set in stone.
He is the best thin to ever happen to me! He is my perfect match. I could not ask for someone better to be in my life--he is the sweetest most caring and loving person I know.
I love doing life with him.
I was in a pretty dark place in my life when I met Joe. I am not good alone. But, I had been alone for a long time, and I was just very very unhappy.
A co-worker of mine told me that he thought I'd fit in really well with his game night group and invited me to join. So, one evening in September, in 2010, I went to his house to meet the gamers. Joe was one of them. I actually thought he was with one of the other girls, but, alas, that was not true.
I thought he was sweet, and kinda cute, but wasn't really trying to hit on him or anything. I had said "I like your watch." He took it off and handed it to me. I laughed. I still laugh. I didn't say I wanted his watch! Anyway...
I started friending the gamers on Facebook, and when it came to him, we started chatting. We dated for about a month, then, he BROKE UP WITH ME!!! On Thanksgiving night. It was terrible.
We remained friends during that next year. He would pick me up and take me to game night, because I didn't have a car at that time (I took public transportation everywhere), so we saw each other at least weekly. He knew I had feelings for him, but he just wasn't sure.
Almost exactly a year later, his feelings had grown. I've learned that it takes him time to make a decision, but when he does, it's forever. He is not swayed by other's opinions or ideas. He has to make up his own mind. But once he does, it is pretty much set in stone.
He is the best thin to ever happen to me! He is my perfect match. I could not ask for someone better to be in my life--he is the sweetest most caring and loving person I know.
I love doing life with him.
Is this it?
When I was young, I was chubby. I was a normal size baby, but a chubby toddler and child. In my teen years, I was always a good 10-15 pounds heavier than others my age. Good God what I would not give for that to be the case now! I remember my very first public "admission" of my knowledge of my fatness. In 7th grade, I approached the gym teacher for some help. I asked for some exercises that I could do to lose weight. I'm not sure his response had the same affect then, as it does for me now, but I wish I could go back and throat punch him. "Push away from the table" he said as he chuckled. Seriously??? That's all you got? I was a 13 year old girl reaching out for help and that's what I got. It may have been the truest answer, but, come on! It was not the nicest or most helpful way to get me to change my eating habits. Not to mention, at 13, my mom was the cook in the house. Additionally, we were lower middle class, and ate lots of high fat foods, because, let's face it, they were, and are still, cheap. I don't blame anyone but myself for my food issues, and therefore my weight issues, but, I can definitely say that I didn't get any help when I first sincerely asked.
That being said, I have "been there, done that". Well, almost. I never did any kind of weight loss drugs. My first real attempt at weight loss was after that stupid gym teacher incident. I asked my mom if I could do slim fast. So, I drank the powdered stuff. I put the powder in a shaker cup, that I stuck under the water fountain at school to fill with water. I don't remember if I lost much weight. I just remember that it was chalky and gross and I wanted to eat food. So, I did. When my mom and step dad would go on day trips, usually on Saturdays, I would sneak just enough food from the pantry that it wouldn't be noticed. Five crackers, and a tablespoon of peanut butter. A slice of cheese. A couple tablespoons of ice cream. Whatever I knew I could get away with without it being noticed. Huh. I wonder where my food-shame comes from???
In high school, I stayed around 15 pounds heavier than the other girls. Maybe 20. Okay, maybe 30. I don't really know. Because I don't really know what a healthy weight is for a high school girl. I was not athletic. I know what I weighed in high school, but not what I should have weighed.
After high school, I didn't really start to gain weight until I was in my early 20s. I was married to a man who worked, literally, all the time. I was 21 and he was 30. I was alone all the time; a country girl living in the big city. The apartment building we lived in had a vending machine in the basement with the laundry room. I would go down there and get Clark bars. Funny, that memory JUST NOW came to me. We ate a lot of hamburger helper and processed foods, because I did not know how to cook! When it became obvious that we were not a good match and divorced, I found out I had an auto-immune disorder. Prednisone in ungodly amounts was prescribed to weaken my immune system. It worked, but I literally gained 70 pounds in 4 months.
I tried things half-heartedly after that. It wasn't until I was divorcing my next husband (that's a whole OTHER blog!!!) and our beautiful Zoe was born that I knew I had to do something. Zoe was born in February of 2001. I joined Weight Watchers in June of that year. In 16 months, I lost 117 pounds. I did NOT want to be the fat mom. I knew my baby girl would love me no matter what. But, I did not want her to have to defend me to her friends. Ever. And I wanted to be around for my girl. I started weighing over 300 pounds. I can't even remember what my start weight was. I had started trying to lose weight prior to actually attending my first meeting. I do remember that my 6 weeks post-partum weight was 349. That's the number I based the 117 lost on.
Then, life happened. Or more precisely, the opposite of life.
Zoe was born with a genetic condition her dad had, called Neurofibromatosis. Again, that is for another blog. She was diagnosed at age 6 months. We knew that she would not have a normal life expectancy--she was expected to be ok until late teens early twenties. But, we did not get that long with this precious angel. She passed away on May 5, 2005.
I maintained my weight loss for about a year. Which, looking back, is about how long it took before I even remember what was going on around me. Then, I just did not know how to cope and I started coping with food--again. Hey, at least it wasn't drugs or alcohol. It worked as well as it could, but I gained, and gained, and gained. I did try Weight Watchers again, but my head wasn't in it. I had been researching weight loss surgery. When I get something in my head, I can't get it out.
In 2011, I had gastric bypass surgery. I lost 85 pounds in 7 months, but...since I had not learned new coping skills, I started putting weight back on as soon as my new smaller stomach would tolerate more and more food.
Due to the events in my life, I have been in and out of both in-patient and out-patient therapy for years--since the age of 9. Only more recently have I really begun to understand the issues I have and how coping with food has been my strategy. Because of that, I feel my new start on Weight Watchers, November 1, 2014 is bound to be a success! What other way should I be looking at it? I am bound to be successful! I have learned so much.
What I have learned:
1) First and foremost, I love myself. I used to hate myself for being fat. I do not like being fat, but I don't hate myself for it.
2) I have to do this for me. Yes, doing it for others can be motivating, but YOU are the only constant in your life.
3) You cannot out-exercise a bad diet.
4) You do not have to do athlete-type exercise to be healthy. Thirty minutes of getting your heart rate up is all that is necessary for health.
5) I am more likely to stick to exercise if I enjoy it.
6) MEETINGS of some sort are essential for ME to stay accountable. If I have to do it for the rest of my life, that's ok. There is no price tag for my health.
7) Tracking my food and exercise is the only way for me to actually know for sure if I'm eating enough or too much. I can also go back to a "good" week to see what I did, if I have a "bad" week.
8) Giving up is not an option.
So, Saturday, November 1, 2014--WI #1, 300 pounds even.
Stay tuned!
That being said, I have "been there, done that". Well, almost. I never did any kind of weight loss drugs. My first real attempt at weight loss was after that stupid gym teacher incident. I asked my mom if I could do slim fast. So, I drank the powdered stuff. I put the powder in a shaker cup, that I stuck under the water fountain at school to fill with water. I don't remember if I lost much weight. I just remember that it was chalky and gross and I wanted to eat food. So, I did. When my mom and step dad would go on day trips, usually on Saturdays, I would sneak just enough food from the pantry that it wouldn't be noticed. Five crackers, and a tablespoon of peanut butter. A slice of cheese. A couple tablespoons of ice cream. Whatever I knew I could get away with without it being noticed. Huh. I wonder where my food-shame comes from???
In high school, I stayed around 15 pounds heavier than the other girls. Maybe 20. Okay, maybe 30. I don't really know. Because I don't really know what a healthy weight is for a high school girl. I was not athletic. I know what I weighed in high school, but not what I should have weighed.
After high school, I didn't really start to gain weight until I was in my early 20s. I was married to a man who worked, literally, all the time. I was 21 and he was 30. I was alone all the time; a country girl living in the big city. The apartment building we lived in had a vending machine in the basement with the laundry room. I would go down there and get Clark bars. Funny, that memory JUST NOW came to me. We ate a lot of hamburger helper and processed foods, because I did not know how to cook! When it became obvious that we were not a good match and divorced, I found out I had an auto-immune disorder. Prednisone in ungodly amounts was prescribed to weaken my immune system. It worked, but I literally gained 70 pounds in 4 months.
I tried things half-heartedly after that. It wasn't until I was divorcing my next husband (that's a whole OTHER blog!!!) and our beautiful Zoe was born that I knew I had to do something. Zoe was born in February of 2001. I joined Weight Watchers in June of that year. In 16 months, I lost 117 pounds. I did NOT want to be the fat mom. I knew my baby girl would love me no matter what. But, I did not want her to have to defend me to her friends. Ever. And I wanted to be around for my girl. I started weighing over 300 pounds. I can't even remember what my start weight was. I had started trying to lose weight prior to actually attending my first meeting. I do remember that my 6 weeks post-partum weight was 349. That's the number I based the 117 lost on.
Then, life happened. Or more precisely, the opposite of life.
Zoe was born with a genetic condition her dad had, called Neurofibromatosis. Again, that is for another blog. She was diagnosed at age 6 months. We knew that she would not have a normal life expectancy--she was expected to be ok until late teens early twenties. But, we did not get that long with this precious angel. She passed away on May 5, 2005.
I maintained my weight loss for about a year. Which, looking back, is about how long it took before I even remember what was going on around me. Then, I just did not know how to cope and I started coping with food--again. Hey, at least it wasn't drugs or alcohol. It worked as well as it could, but I gained, and gained, and gained. I did try Weight Watchers again, but my head wasn't in it. I had been researching weight loss surgery. When I get something in my head, I can't get it out.
In 2011, I had gastric bypass surgery. I lost 85 pounds in 7 months, but...since I had not learned new coping skills, I started putting weight back on as soon as my new smaller stomach would tolerate more and more food.
Due to the events in my life, I have been in and out of both in-patient and out-patient therapy for years--since the age of 9. Only more recently have I really begun to understand the issues I have and how coping with food has been my strategy. Because of that, I feel my new start on Weight Watchers, November 1, 2014 is bound to be a success! What other way should I be looking at it? I am bound to be successful! I have learned so much.
What I have learned:
1) First and foremost, I love myself. I used to hate myself for being fat. I do not like being fat, but I don't hate myself for it.
2) I have to do this for me. Yes, doing it for others can be motivating, but YOU are the only constant in your life.
3) You cannot out-exercise a bad diet.
4) You do not have to do athlete-type exercise to be healthy. Thirty minutes of getting your heart rate up is all that is necessary for health.
5) I am more likely to stick to exercise if I enjoy it.
6) MEETINGS of some sort are essential for ME to stay accountable. If I have to do it for the rest of my life, that's ok. There is no price tag for my health.
7) Tracking my food and exercise is the only way for me to actually know for sure if I'm eating enough or too much. I can also go back to a "good" week to see what I did, if I have a "bad" week.
8) Giving up is not an option.
So, Saturday, November 1, 2014--WI #1, 300 pounds even.
Stay tuned!
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Why I've Never Written Before
I used to write all the time. It was an escape from reality. I could be anyone I wanted, live anywhere I wanted, feel loved, be grown, travel the world, do any job I wanted, or not; you get the picture. But, I never have, and still haven't, written for public consumption, because of my guilt over how it might affect others. It's inevitable to share part of someone else's story in sharing my own. There should not be any guilt in that, as long as I tell the truth. The problem is, some people don't want that truth to be known. Or my truth is too difficult for others to hear, or read. I can't help that anymore. For me to let go of random memories, or to get it out of me--and out there--where it can have a voice and plague my heart and soul no longer, I have to write it out. To the best of my ability, I will be truthful. To the best of my ability, I will protect innocent people. To the best of my ability, I will tell only what I need to tell with my own voice and only what will help me to free myself from the burden I've carried for 32 years. I apologize now if this hurts people. If I ever make it public, it probably will. My intent is not to hurt anyone, but to be free from the pain I've carried for too long.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
March 29, 1980
My life essentially ended, and started, on the same day: March 29, 1980. It was 11 days after my 9th birthday and 2 days before my dad's, "I-don't-know-unless-I-calculate-it" birthday. I think he was probably turning 27 since he was 18 when I was born. We were going to visit Mom's dad, Grandpa Heuer, in Muncie for our birthdays and I was excited! Of course--what 9 year old isn't excited about presents and birthday cake?? I had on my favorite outfit of 1980--a red dress made of handkerchief material, and clogs. Who explains to 9 year old girls to understand and to worry about fashion? And why so young? But, I was. I don't specifically remember, but I'm sure my younger brother was bugging me as usual. Isn't that what younger brothers are for? He was only a year younger but still.
We all piled into the station wagon, my dad driving, mom in the front passenger seat, my brother behind my dad, and me behind mom. Of course, this was before seatbelts were law. Muncie, Indiana is about an hour's drive through mostly countryside, but a drive we had driven countless times before. This day would be different and the last time we would ever drive that drive again.
I don't know the route we took to get there. I don't care to know it now. But somewhere in that countryside, we crossed a railroad track every time we visited Grandpa. I don't know what happened that day. I don't know what Dad was thinking. I only know what I remember from the police report I read had said "...vehicle skidded 18 feet prior to train tracks..."..."vehicle was dragged...miles...before train came to complete stop...". Eighteen feet? That's not much. There were no crossing arms or warning signals at the crossing. But, we had driven the same route numerous times before. Was my dad trying to beat the train? Did he even see the train coming? I think he didn't see it. I think he saw it at 18 feet, and it was too late to stop. I'll never know. I refuse to investigate, because it won't bring him back. It won't change the fate of my family from that day.
My dad was pronounced DOA at Ball Memorial Hospital in Muncie Indiana, where he, my mom, and I were taken. My brother was taken via LifeLine helicopter to Methodist Hospital in Indianapolis Indiana with severe head injury. My mom was immediately taken to surgery to repair internal injuries, including removal of her spleen. I was taken via ambulance to Methodist Hospital in Indianapolis. I have no clue why. Insurance, perhaps?? I don't know. My life ended, and restarted on that day. Everything I know to be true started with everything that ended, and then started anew that day. Much of who I am today is a direct result of what started with that deadly day.
We all piled into the station wagon, my dad driving, mom in the front passenger seat, my brother behind my dad, and me behind mom. Of course, this was before seatbelts were law. Muncie, Indiana is about an hour's drive through mostly countryside, but a drive we had driven countless times before. This day would be different and the last time we would ever drive that drive again.
I don't know the route we took to get there. I don't care to know it now. But somewhere in that countryside, we crossed a railroad track every time we visited Grandpa. I don't know what happened that day. I don't know what Dad was thinking. I only know what I remember from the police report I read had said "...vehicle skidded 18 feet prior to train tracks..."..."vehicle was dragged...miles...before train came to complete stop...". Eighteen feet? That's not much. There were no crossing arms or warning signals at the crossing. But, we had driven the same route numerous times before. Was my dad trying to beat the train? Did he even see the train coming? I think he didn't see it. I think he saw it at 18 feet, and it was too late to stop. I'll never know. I refuse to investigate, because it won't bring him back. It won't change the fate of my family from that day.
My dad was pronounced DOA at Ball Memorial Hospital in Muncie Indiana, where he, my mom, and I were taken. My brother was taken via LifeLine helicopter to Methodist Hospital in Indianapolis Indiana with severe head injury. My mom was immediately taken to surgery to repair internal injuries, including removal of her spleen. I was taken via ambulance to Methodist Hospital in Indianapolis. I have no clue why. Insurance, perhaps?? I don't know. My life ended, and restarted on that day. Everything I know to be true started with everything that ended, and then started anew that day. Much of who I am today is a direct result of what started with that deadly day.
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