WTAF?

I’ve been hitting a series of setbacks the past few weeks. First of all, for the very first time since I got serious about losing my weight, I gained. I’ve been on a slow, but steady progressive down slope for, literally, years. I started Feb. 13, 2021 and lost weight every week for nearly two and a half years.

When I decided to double down and join a gym to accelerate my weight loss… I GAINED WEIGHT.

WTAF?

I really didn’t change how I eat; and my trainer at the gym said it’s because I’m building muscle. But, seriously? Do you know how bad that makes me feel?

It was a horror. I don’t care about building muscle. I want to lose the extra pounds.

Something was just not right.

I decided to quit the gym for now. This wasn’t the only reason. The other reason is this gym is really not for obese people trying to lose weight. It’s for super fit people working at maintaining their super fitness.

I started evaluating my options. I even looked into Wegovy at a local clinic that has an obesity program. I’m still considering that, but I still want to see if there is a way I can do this naturally.

So, it sticks.

You understand, yes?

I also have been mindful of the intention I set for the beginning of 2023 to get back on a horse.

I found a local stable that has lessons. Here’s what I found on the stable’s website:

That weight– 150lbs– is not even my goal weight (It’s 177). I will never be 150 again in my life. What a disappointment! I remember doing the math on how much I would have to lose to safely get on a horse. I computed 240, not 150. So, another major setback. Or course, I could buy a horse, but I don’t want to do that. I may be able to find another stable with less restrictive rules, or bigger horses. I’d be lying, however, if I did not admit this has been a downer.

The last disappointment has been the dating scene. I’m not getting anywhere. I must still be unf..kable. I started thinking of a poem to address that sad fact. If I get around to writing it, I will post it here.

I will close this depressing post on a positive note. I found the shirt I wore in the photo where I was at my heaviest. It’s actually a cute shirt, and looks good now.

So, fuck everybody.

“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.

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. 

The New (Old) Normal

Picture 1

Not exactly sure what the motivation was that struck me to finally reach out for help. I posted an ad on Craigslist with a headline that said, “Fitness/Life Coach: Can you Normal Size Me?” I filed it under the fitness category but explained clearly in the ad that I need much more than a personal trainer. I need someone who can keep me motivated, on track, someone who has more than muscle, but a real heart who can sympathize with the hard work that needs to get done to lose such a massive tonnage of weight.

I received over a dozen responses the first two days. I eventually had to take down the ad. All of the candidates said they could Normal Size me and explained their particular expertise and qualifications for doing so.  But one respondent, only had one word in the first paragraph of her reply. That word was “No.”

She brilliantly crafted an intelligent response to my ad that stated I am the only one who can Normal Size me. Here is the beginning of her reply:

No.

Any individual replying to you saying they can is wrong. There’s not a trainer on the planet who can normal size you. That power is yours and yours alone. You are the one in ultimate control of that end result. You have to have the drive and determination to hang in there on nights where the food is talking to you and you just want to dive in. You have to have the drive to get up and do that workout when everything in you screams to go back to bed. That’s going to come from you. You alone. That’s what’s going to get the weight off AND KEEP IT OFF.

What can a trainer/coach do for you? Give you the tools and support to regain control of your life. You’ve demonstrated that you’re ready by putting up that ad. That’s a huge first step. Most people with a lot of weight to lose never make it that far. So no matter what, congratulations! That is a huge, huge step. Believe it or not, one of the hardest parts is over. Making the decision to make a change is more then half the battle.

Well, she had me at “No.”

I’ve hired Clara to begin a marathon, long-term slow weight loss that will hopefully get me back to my normal self. This normal self, unfortunately, has never left my brain. I’ve been walking around for decades in a state of confusion because my self-image and my RL image are not in sync. As you can see on the pages of this blog, I seem to be unable to take on this Herculean task alone, so the addition of Clara to my life should make the difference.

Clara is not only an intelligent, sensitive, yet tough trainer, she’s a fantastic writer. It’s one of the reasons I hired her. I look forward to chronicling my personal transformation on the pages of this blog, as well as keeping up with how Clara is helping her other clients push toward their goals. You can catch Clara blogging at “The Power to Change,” as well as on the Houston Examiner.

I implore anyone reading this blog to please lend your support in the comments. It’s going to take a village to move this mountain. (It was worth the mixed metaphor.)