Category: starting over

Human Reinvention

So, I have a new hobby and a new job. I’m going to tell you about both and how it applies to my weight loss journey. Where we left off, some six months ago, I was frustrated that I was gaining weight because I stopped the Semaglutide.

That frustration was justified. I (re)gained 29lbs in roughly 6 months (from Feb. 27 to Aug. 10). As I stated in my last post, I wasn’t binging or eating “bad” food. I was just eating like a normal person without weight issues. Again, I will make the claim that my fat cells are a product of my trauma. Almost like a camel, my body wants to store fat around my bones and my organs to protect me. It’s kind of its job. I respect that.

So my brain and my body are in constant battle for control. For my part, I am working towards a a two-state solution.

In August, I started the Terzepatide compound. So, far I haven’t had any real side effects. It’s working. I’ve lost 15lbs and I’m not hungry. I don’t have that food compulsion instinct. I’ve made the commitment to stay on it. If I have to, forever. I feel good again. I can fit into my smaller sized clothes, and I don’t hate how I look in the reflection of a store window when I walk by. I know I have a long way to go. But, I’ve realized the key to this trek is PATIENCE. Or, maybe the countervailing strategy is not succombing to impatience.

This is where the Impatiens flowers come in. (Stay with me).

My sweet neighbor, Victor, takes care of me and my cat, Zeke. He has a key to my apartment and he lets Zeke in late at night when Zeke is done wandering our apartment complex and is ready to settle down in his comfy cat bed. For my birthday, Victor bought me a small plant for my patio. It was an Impatiens plant. Over the summer, that plant was losing its will to live. But, I kept watering it.

Which brings me to my new hobby. I’ve taken up songwriting as a hobby. Via the extraordinary capabilities of brilliant professionals in my field, I am now able to “generate” songs from the lyrics I write. This new creative outlet has enabled me to excavate the skeletal remains of deep-seeded trauma that’s been stowed away in many closets of my past. I can create songs without knowing how to play an instrument or sing a song. It’s pretty (fucking) amazing.

One of the songs I thought about writing was focused on how my nature is inclined to water dead plants. Because, someone who’s been through the trauma I’ve been through, cannot afford to give up hope.

Sure enough, my hope imperative delivered results. Sometime this month (mid-October), this plant I wrote off for dead, blossomed a single flower. I was over the moon. I sent it to Victor, and his sister, my good friend, Stephanie. We all agreed I should write a “comeback” song. I will, for sure, in time.

Which brings me to my current employment situationship. I’m a contractor for a large Big 4 professional services firm. One of the key tenets in the consulting world is predicated on looking to Business Model Reinvention to survive. The (correct) thinking about this is that if large organizations don’t put the time into understanding how technology will impact their current business models, they may not make it. So many examples come to mind that validate this claim. When’s the last time you took your family to Blockbuster, for example?

Net, net– as businesses need to reinvent themselves, so do humans. I’ve absolutely done this. My weight loss journey is a part of my own human reinvention. In many ways, I burned myself to the ground, and rebuilt myself from the ground up. I created a better, more resilient model of myself to face the future, and hopefully, be an asset to my grandchildren.

The lesson learned so far, is this is not a sprint. You cannot rush reinvention. It starts as incremental continuous improvement, morphs into transmogrification, which is sometimes painful for humans. Yet, as the young’uns say: Keep Going.

Eventually, you will see the fruits of your labor and the blossoms will bloom on the plant you wouldn’t give up on.

#Onwards

Wo(e)-govy

So, I’ve gone from bad to worse. This morning, I finally decided I had to weigh myself. Yep, not only did I gain weight AGAIN; it occurred to me that I gained as much in TWO months that took me an entire YEAR to lose. (13lbs– that’s a dress size.)

When I moved back to Texas, I fell into temptation. Queso is probably my favorite comfort food in the whole world. Same with most Mexican food. So, for the past few months, I’ve been eating tortillas and chips, ON OCCASION, hoping that I could somehow absorb these carbs with no ramifications.

That was an illusion. Sure enough, those fat cells laying quietly shrunken in waiting, were thrilled to puff back up to reclaim their rightful position on my body.

I had a conversation with my oldest daughter this morning where I shared my frustration about how I am coming to understand I will NEVER be able to eat “normally” again. From this day forward, if I want to get thin and stay thin, I will have to give up eating food that I love. Like, for the rest of my life.

For that reason, I made the decision to start a physician-assisted Wegovy program. I’m starting Monday. As you know, I wanted to lose my weight without sacrificing too much and without spending money. But, at this sad juncture in my progress, I realize that is unrealistic. I need something drastic.

I will let you know how it goes.

“Trackers are Winners”

That was one of the first things she said to me. Nikki, that is. She’s the woman I am going to hire as my trainer if a job I’m waiting on comes through.

I processed my last big question I was wrestling with in my last post for a week. ICYMI, here it is: “Am I sufficiently psychologically fit to be physically fit?” I came to the conclusion the answer was probably no, but I need to do it anyway.

Over the weekend, I decided to sign up for the pricey gym where I used to be a member here in Austin in 2011. The gym has gone through changes, but it’s still a beautiful facility. It’s even more beautiful, actually. Bonus: they’ve added a Pickleball program.

I asked around about trainers and was pointed to Nikki who would be the best in-house trainer who’d be able to understand what I’ve been going through and get me to where I want to be.

I spoke to Nikki for about an hour at the gym. I showed her my charts, read her my numbers, told her my story… She was empathetic and supportive. I was particularly happy with her, “Trackers are winners” comment, as I’m still obsessed with all my health data. It will be interesting to share this data with someone in a collaborative way to make adjustments to my progress.

The investment in the gym and Nikki will be trés cher. I’ve rationalized the expense by recalling what my South Dakota wellness coach asked me, “What would your life be like if you reached your weight goal?” Again, it hit me like a ton of bricks that EVERYTHING in my life would be better. When someone shows you a crystal ball sneak preview of your potentially amazing life… it’s not something you can ignore or dismiss.

How much would you pay to radically improve your life? I’ll bet the answer is a lot.

I should hear about the new job in the next few weeks. In the meantime, I have made the commitment to go to the gym every week. I will keep you posted, as usual.

Incidentally, I did the math. If I lose 2lbs* a week, I could get to my goal in 7.7 months. That puts me at the end of 2023.

*When I began seriously changing the way I eat, I averaged about 1lb loss a week. But, during that year, I did not have a trainer or a rigorous exercise program. So, this number may be too optimistic, but it can suffice as a goal for now.

The Final Countdown

The perfect opener for this post is this over-the-top video of the song by Swedish band Europe with its big hair, 80s metal vibe.

As you know, I’ve written on this blog about how losing weight has a lot more to do with psychology than biology. I have been writing this blog for almost FIFTEEN years. So, 15 years a slave to obesity.

Obviously, I’ve made more progress than ever in the past few years, and I’m proud of that. But, the truth is, I have a psychological block about reaching that final destination. I’m exploring that out loud here on this page.

Why?

Well, let’s start with today in 2023: I’ve started dating again. I don’t look so terrible that I would be embarrassed to show up on a blind date. (I’m using a dating app, and that’s essentially what they are, blind dates where you have an inkling of who the other person is, but not much more than that.) Yet, I know I’m still too overweight to be attractive to the opposite sex. Or, at least attractive enough to the type of guy my 20-year old self would be attracted to at my age.

It’s complicated. On the one hand, maybe I should lower my standards and embrace where I fit in on the dating totem pole at this stage in my life. But, on the other hand, I could make the commitment, buckle down, and reach my goal weight. Be thin again. Be attractive again (even at this age).

Option number 2 opens up a Pandora’s box. It literally leaves me vulnerable to getting seriously hurt or further damaged. Option number 1 is pretty much unrealistic, as this is not how I’m wired.

So, I’m at an impasse– stuck in a sandtrap in my mind.

If I lean into option #2, I have already done the research on how to do it. The gym that I love, where I was a member before here in Austin, has everything I need to progress toward my goal. I would hire a trainer and launch, “The Final Countdown.” I’d have to get more diligent cutting back on carbs/sugar and reducing my alcohol intake. All of it would be difficult, expensive, and time-consuming. In many ways, it would be like starting from the beginning because this last leg of the journey would be the most demanding.

Am I sufficiently psychologically fit to be physically fit?

That is what I’m asking myself.

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.

Zut Alors! I gained two pounds.

IMG_8724.jpgAnd that’s how it begins.

You eat one Chinese takeout dinner with rice. One egg roll and some pizza at the local Tech Meetup and THERE IT IS.

Boom. Two pounds. Precisely, 2.2 lbs. 

Like the creature from the black lagoon, those fat cells jump back into your life to remind you they are simply laying dormant, deflated, ready to pounce– waiting to blow up bigger and stronger than before.

For nearly an entire year now, I’ve only lost pounds with tiny fractional variations up and down within ounces. This is the first time I’ve gained.

This is war.

War is hell.

Still at it

horseback-ridingSo, I did a little research and found that experts recommend a horse can only carry about 20% of its weight.  This includes a human plus tack.  They draw the line at about 240 pounds for the average horse at 1200 lbs.  I like to ride bareback, so maybe I could get away with 250.

In any event, it’s an interim goal.

I’ve pushed through the temptation to eat all matter of food that is not good for me: rice, potatoes, bread, pasta, etc.  I try to limit sugar in foods too, like fruit.

I cut out all forms of pure sugar or any kind of sweets.  So far, I’ve lost about 20 pounds or so.  Depends on what scale I use.

I feel better though, but am getting increasingly frustrated that it’s not coming off more quickly.  I’m looking into hiring a trainer.  The food deprivation is the toughest part of this, but it seems as though I’ve mastered it psychologically for now.

It’s really simple: I just don’t want to be fat anymore.  Until I decide I do want to be fat or don’t care, I’m just going to keep doing this.

We’ll see where it goes.  My awesome doctor, whom I’ve written about before, noticed the weight loss and was very supportive.  I’m conflicted about that because, as you know, I don’t have any health issues related to my size.

I just want to do normal things in a normal size body.  That’s about it.

Hello, it’s me (again)

a-selection-of-fruits-and-vegetables.jpg

So, very quietly, I’ve started limited my food intake again to no carbs, no sugar.  I haven’t told anyone except my family.  I just decided it was time again.

This time it’s not personal; it’s business.

As wonderful as the new movement toward fat acceptance and health-at-every-size enthusiasts are, the rotten truth is people judge you when you’re fat.  You’re either discriminated against, you’re judged as inferior, or you’re simply invisible (which really is the worst).

I’ve been working too hard on my startup to sabotage my success.  I decided I have to look better to get the respect I deserve.  Does it piss me off?  Yes.  Do men have this problem? Not really.

Alas, here I am.

So far so good, however.  I’ve made the mental commitment to do it and have lost about 20 pounds.  It’s hard for others to tell, but I can tell.

And I feel better, so there’s that.  I will write here occasionally.  I’m interested in where this is headed and what I learn from the experience.

Salut.

 

 

The Fatcinating Blog is Pivoting

brideMy son turned 18 this summer and is headed to college in a few weeks.  He’s my last child and empties my nest. It occurred to me that he has never known me to be a thin woman.  Never.  I was a fat bride in 1995, and I’ve been a fat Mom his entire life. Even my darling daughter pictured in the photo here has never known me to be thin.

This blog began as an attempt to work on weight loss. Although I lost 50 pounds a few years ago, I ended up injuring myself, taking on an unhealthy obsession about losing weight, and eventually gained all the weight back.  The best outcome of that exercise was learning how to cook.

In my last post two months ago, feeling the pressure to conform to society’s disdain for the obese, I began once again on the path to restricting my food intake.  Over the summer I’ve discovered a blogger, Regan Chastain, who has greatly influenced my opinion on these tough issues. Regan is a fat activist and writes powerfully about the everyday prejudices faced by the obese population.  I was mostly drawn to her cogent and honest discussion about the myths that link obesity to disease and morbidity.

Thinking again about my wedding so many years ago, I’m reminded of my rail thin ex-mother-in-law who has suffered with debilitating health issues for as long as my son has known her too.   In the past 18 years, where she has cost the federal government and State of N.J. thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars in medical costs (medicare and state pensions), my physical health has been exceptional.  I simply have no physical health issues that warrant any concern at all.  With the exception of the injury caused by my severe weight loss program, I’ve had a cold here, a skin rash there, an achy elbow… that’s about it.  In the past few years, I didn’t even have health insurance because I literally never went to the doctor.

So, this blog is pivoting from today forward.  I’m going to write about the “Audacity of Enjoying Life While Fat.”  I’m mostly going to document what it’s like to be an obese person in a society so fixated on a premium of fitness, physical attractiveness, and conformity within a rigid standard for acceptable physical appearance.  I will leave the past posts as a reminder to people who stumble upon this blog, that I was once like you. Someone who felt ashamed of what they looked like.

“You’re Making Yourself Sad!”

BoehnerMy three-year-old grandson has this adorable thing he does.  If you’re making a sad face (say, like this photo of Congressman Boehner), he immediately pounces, points his little finger at you and says, “You’re making yourself sad!”  He shouts it with much impassioned judgment.  Of course, it cracks everyone up, and the victim of his wrath quickly turns that frown upside down.

I recently had to speak at a public event here in town.  And, as I stood in front of the audience, even though I knew my topic cold and had rehearsed my talk several times, all I could think about was how I looked.  Recall, speaking in public was one of my original motives (along with being taken seriously professionally) for beginning a concerted weight loss program.

The fact that there is a profound stigma and societally acceptable prejudice levied against the obese does not make it easy to not care what people think.  It bothers me to no end to see how women in every facet of life are judged first by how they look, everything else second.  Especially, most especially, when it comes to weight.

After that event, I realized it was really me who was condemning me.  Who knows what anyone thought?  They probably just thought I was a terrible speaker (which I was because I was fighting this unfair image war in my head while I was trying to get through the talk.)  It’s what I thought that mattered here, and it impacted my performance.

I was making myself sad.

So, rather than have more wars in my head, and limit my ability to support myself by not wanting to speak or be seen in public, I’m back at it.  I can’t possibly change the world’s opinion about this, so I’ll just have to conform to “fit” in.

Have no idea if anyone is still subscribed to or reading this blog.  But, I’ll be continuing to update here with my progress.  I reconfigured my Withings scale.  Considering I gained all the weight back I had lost, it’s back to the drawing board.  The good news is I lost about 4 pounds this week.  I’m just back to no carbs, no sugar.

I’m making myself happy… by at least trying.  That has to count for something.