It’s been… a YEAR

Today marks one full year I’ve been on my trek to lose weight. I started blogging here again a couple weeks later. This blog has been a motivating factor to persevere. Thanks to everyone following and occasionally leaving me comments. I appreciate you!

First of all, losing a massive amount of weight is hard. No doubt. Especially if your goal is not to lose it suddenly and then regain it. My goal has been all along to CHANGE the way I live. I am not sure if I had an addiction to (bad) food, but I do know it was a comfort I could easily indulge in privately. I don’t do that anymore and that is real progress, a victory.

On the weight loss itself, I’m disappointed. Over the course of 52 weeks, I’ve only lost a total of 47.3 lbs. That averages out to about .9 (nearly a pound) a week. You can see from the chart, starting at the end of the hockey stick slope upward in the beginning of 2021, I consistently kept losing throughout 2021 and now into 2022. I have not faltered or regained any weight. It’s been a steep slope downwards.

That good news aside, I realized today I need to work harder at this. I still have 75.4 lbs to lose to reach my goal weight. I will need to make the mental, maybe financial, commitment to get there.

One of the questions my wellness coach asked me when I first started with her was this: “How would your life be different if you met your goal weight?” That question stunned me. I knew my answer instantly. I told her that EVERYTHING in my life would be better. Demonstrably better. So much better, it would be as if I had a second life; it would literally be as if I was reborn into a new person’s life with many advantages. Recognizing this was transcendent.

There is no easy way to get there. I must do the work. I figured out that if I continue at this pace, I will arrive at my goal in August of 2024.

Onwards.

The Psychology of Fat

I will start this post with a great report: I have lost all my “pandemic” weight, and the last time I weighed myself, my weight was lower than it has been in the past three years.

I have been going to the Y, and I’m continuing my simple no sugar, no carbs routine. That’s it. As far as the physical weight loss, as I’ve discussed before, it’s just a matter of discipline.

However, on the psychological front, it’s not so easy.

Unlike a lot of weight bloggers who’ve struggled with obesity from the time they were children, I was not always super heavy. In my youth, teens, and college years, I was thin. I was a cheerleader for years. Lithe, strong, and generally living in a “normal-sized” body. The massive weight gain began in the 90s for me when a pdoc put me on an Rx that gifted me 100 extra pounds. It was like a runaway train. I tried several times to bring that weight down, but eventually gave up in exasperation.

The weight morphed into something else more sinister though. The weight was what I would come to dub a “spray-on male repellent.” I was able to move about my career without the unwanted advances of creepy men; it was so freeing in that way.

It also afforded me the ability to live my life without inviting men into it with complicated relationships that always seemed to end in ruin. Even more unsettling is the deeper, more fragile realization that the abundance of fat cells wrapped around my organs and bones acted like a bubble wrap, a physical protection against being kicked, punched, and thrown down a flight of stairs. Heavy, I know (pun, intended). To understand this at a root level, there is a book: “The Body Keeps the Score” that I have not read, but I hear it referenced all the time in my women’s work.

On my last appointment with my new pdoc, I struck up a conversation with him about this. He said it’s absolutely a factor (weight gain as protection). He said it’s not uncommon for men to gain weight too to ensure they won’t be tempted to cheat on their spouses. He said he hears stories like mine all the time.

I’ve been working hard here in this phase of my life to face my demons, to heal.

Losing the weight is part of my journey. I’m hopeful I will get back to the young woman I was before trauma derailed my mind, my spirit, and my lovely body. Of course I won’t ever be young again, but I can be that strong, healthy woman again.

I’m working on it.

Blame it on the Pandemic

I was doing fine. Fine, fine, fine for a very long time. Until I wasn’t. Let’s blame it on lock-down and quarantine. I moved across the country in the spring of 2020 right as the pandemic was settling in to ground us all to a halt.

Look what happened:

To be fair, I wasn’t sitting at home eating ice cream and cake. I was eating pretty normally. But I did resume eating carbs, and there you have it. Simply adding a normal amount of carbs– I’M TALKING TO YOU, BREAD– to my regular diet, filled out all these fat cells lingering around in my body.

So frustrating.

So, here I am. Back on the Fatcinating blog. Back with my friends who will hopefully support me through another slog of getting this excess weight off. It’s not like I was down to my ideal weight anyway. But the extra weight is too much. It has to go. I’m not sure I can fit into the summer clothes I brought with me out here.

Ugh.

BeFit not BeFaT!

JustinI’m continuing on my path.  Justin, my trainer, and the co-owner of the BeFit Studio where I submit myself to his sadistic antics every week is pictured in the photo on the left. Although I tell him every time I see him I hate him, and I hate his wicked routines, I keep showing up.

We were discussing today, while I’m making progress having lost about 40 pounds, I still weigh as much as a football player.  We were trying to agree on which position now fits me best.

Where I probably started at as a burly Offensive Center, I could now possibly pass for an Offensive Lineman.  I told him my goal was to be a skinny Quarterback, but he told me some Quarterbacks can be big too.  In other words, I have some more flexibility and can start to feel some strength in my muscles, but I have a long way to go to get into fighting shape.

On that note, he convinced me to buy a bike.  I did that today.  I bought a sweet Fuji quasi-Mountain bike.  It cost more than I wanted to spend, but I decided it was an investment.  Florida has a lot of bike trails.  You can literally ride for miles on bike trails.  I have kind of hit a plateau with the personal training, and I need something more aerobic to get me moving the extra pounds around.  I think a bike can do it, so I’m going to try it.  Plus, it will get me outside in the winter sunshine.  I like that idea.

2018_FUJI_CROSSTOWN_23_LS_LAVENDER

I made a promise to myself that when I started this whole, “I don’t want to be fat anymore” thing that I wouldn’t do anything that was horrible, like exercise I hated or starving myself to the point of feeling miserable and surly all of the time.  I told myself I was going to give myself a break and take it slow and EASE into a new way of living.

I’m doing that.

So far so good.

So, still at it.

The other day, I was in a dressing room, and I was shocked that I was fitting into pants sizes 4 times smaller than I’m used to.  That was really incredible!  I texted Justin, (because I have no life and there was no one else to text, of course).  He was happy for me, and reiterated that he knew we were making progress. But, I was over the moon.  Wow!  This is really happening.  I will be on a horse… soon.

Just tired of being fat

IMG_0312People with whom I share my weight loss journey normally ask me, “Why?”  It’s meant to be a why now, or what happened to make you decide to work on this.  I always give the same answer: “I just got tired of being fat.”

As the pounds disappear (fat literally breathes out of you; look it up), I am enjoying my ability to move easier– to pick things up easier, to fit easier into chairs, to crouch down in a squat to fix a rug corner– all simple things that are suddenly available to me in a smaller size.  Nearly every day there is an affirmation if you pay attention.

That my clothes are fitting better is fabulous. I now have an entire closet that is not out of reach. Even the larger clothes are just loose and baggy, but I can still wear them if I want to.  In other words, I’ve not seriously “undergrown” anything yet. I guess I’ve dropped from a 28 in pants to a 24 maybe?  Not sure.  I’m trying not to buy more large size clothes.

According to my scale, I’ve lost 38 pounds.  That might not be the same as the trainer’s scale or the doctor’s scale, but the weight loss is noticeable now.  People still aren’t saying much, but that’s okay.  My kids can see the difference.  Another 40 pounds, and it will be unmistakeable.  My goal is to get to 240, so I can mount and ride a regular-sized horse.  I don’t know how long that will take.  Maybe 6 months.  Who knows?

Segueing into something a little more uncomfortable, I was hospitalized last week to recover from some traumatic stress related to the work I do.  I’m feeling better now.  Normally, when you’re a patient in a behavioral health facility, the food is abundant and oftentimes great.  That was the case where I was at a prestigious center in Princeton, NJ.  I’m so thankful (today is Thanksgiving) I was able to resist eating a lot of foods high in sugar and/or carbs.  I actually lost a couple pounds in the hospital, and that is nearly unheard of.  So yay, self-discipline.

Here is a milestone photo to show my dear readers (all 3 of you) my progress.  The photo on the left was taken this summer with a friend who visited with me from Montreal while he was here on business.  The one on the right is one taken a few weeks ago.  I can see the difference, can’t you?  The good news is I look happy in both of them.

 

 

I’m really looking forward to making more progress.  As I’ve written before, the fat cells serve as a functional shield, yet they imprison me in a cage I’ve created to protect myself.  So, with vulnerability and a bit of courage, I’m continuing on my path.

Happy Thanksgiving. A holiday that would be better remembered for love, hugs, and family, rather than food. 

I’m especially thankful this holiday for this blog’s readers.  I think I have at least one on this blog.  Let me know if you’re here with a like or comment?

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Hey! I lost 30 pounds. Can’tcha tell?

Atlanta-home-pool

So, no one has noticed I’m losing weight.  That is so sad.  I told my trainer today that if he lost 30 pounds, he would be dead.  More on him later.

I’ve also said, when I’ve tried to do this before, that when you’re my size or larger… it’s an extremely slow process to lose weight.  I’ve used the metaphor that it’s like “emptying a swimming pool with a tablespoon.”

Of course, I haven’t broadcasted this news on social media like I did the last time I tried to do this.  I realize it’s going to take over a year to re-learn a new way to live in the new (old) skin I want to inhabit.  The first person who notices I’m losing weight may prompt me to post more publicly about it. We’ll see.

But I’ll tell you who does notice: ME.  Everything feels better.  I feel stronger, lighter.  My clothes definitely fit better.  I’m much more confident.  I’m not exhausted the same way I was.  My energy level is up, and walking up a flight of stairs does not ruin my whole day.

Even more than the physical change is the mental transformation.  As I said before when I started writing here again, I just decided I don’t want to be fat anymore.  Maybe it’s due to all the wonderful talk therapy I’ve been doing, I’ve realized I’ve been carrying this “extra person” around with me for way too long.  My trainer told me today that fat on a woman is designed to protect her.  I told my therapist recently that where the fat has always been a shield of armor– ensuring I would keep men away, being unfuckable and all–  I’ve realized it’s also a cage.  It’s been keeping me contained in a controlled, angry world of my own making.  I may have been keeping myself safe, but living in hiding or camouflage has served to perpetuate my own victimization and repressed hostility.

Unlike so many women who were always overweight and always were rendered invisible or déclassé in society, I was not always overweight.  I was once a hot cheerleader and even hotter twenty-something in business.  (Oh, the stories I yearn to write…)  I was one of those women who’d turn heads when I walked into a room.  That kind of power goes unchecked in the universe.  It’s a heady thing.

So, as I’m gaining a lot of ground with my new business, I’ve realized I need every tool in my tool belt to be successful with my ambitious goals.  I know a woman’s looks are a weapon of mass destruction, and I intend to deploy what I have left of them strategically to reach my objectives.*

Pretty women have been doing this since the beginning of time.  Don’t hate.

On my trainer.  He’s such a nice, young man. Funny too!  It’s reminded me that I long for a man to touch me in a caring way.  (Don’t go there.)  I’m talking about the way he gently presses his knee between my shoulder blades and stretches my arms backwards.  He cares about what we are working on.  He is encouraging me to be my best self.

#onwards

*I updated this post as a result of the prevailing #MeToo movement on social media.  Don’t conflate a woman’s focus on maintaining her image with anything sexual, especially as it relates to power grabs.