I had a little bit of the proverbial "falling off the wagon" if you will, this weekend. My cousin came into town and much merriment was had. I ate way to many carbs. Marshmallows were a huge culprit. Can I just say though, I am the freaking champion of roasting those GIANT campfire marshmallows?! I am. (smile)
I've also had the worst flu in like, years. And yes, I had my flu shot. This flu was some kind of mutated turtle flu or something, it was horrible. I couldn't and still can't taste anything. Yet then I go ahead and have a piece of cake at my brother-in-law's birthday party. Can I even taste it? No! Am I screwing up my diet? YES! I hate it when i get into robot eating mode like that. Mindless eating has helped get me to where I am weight wise today. The most ridiculous thing is that I can't even enjoy it. But is that stopping me from putting each forkful of flavorless fluff into my mouth? Sigh. I'm not even going on my walks to help burn it off. Being sick sucks my friends.
Well anyways, I'm going to be better and yes I know that's what the last post was about too. Don't you think that's normal though? Aren't we always trying to be better and move on to bigger and better? Or, messing something up and having to make it right again? I know that I do. Chicken breast and broccoli for dinner tonight baby!
*Special News Flash* I just applied my coconut chapstick and I can kinda smell it! Oh I'm so excited!
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
Weekly Weigh In
Weighed myself today. I try to limit myself to only once a week. I also do it butt neked and first thing in the morning. Best results that way I think. I'm down 16 lbs baby!!! So, started at 312 and now I'm 296. I even have a handy little weight ticker now. Do you know how long I've wanted one of those? Like, forever! I should post a picture, but I'm not. Next time I will.
I've been on my surgeon supervised diet for a month now. It's been Heidi revised to be quite honest. It's still protein first and fluids, fluids, fluids, but I allow myself more leeway on the carbohydrates. I just couldn't comply to the super strict rules of the original diet. I did for the first two weeks. It was difficult to say the least. Yah, it pretty much sucked. (cue flashback music)
The first two weeks I felt like a drug addict getting detoxed. I was only having only 25 carbs a day, maybe. My youngest daughter Lindsay had some crackers and I nearly tackled her for them! One night I broke down in tears in the car and begged Jeff to drive to the nearest store for a Hostess cherry pie and a glass of milk. Jeff's been supportive of me and my crazy antics throughout the years and he could sense my desperation. This was real desperation, not the dramatics that may or may not go on at times. Jeff then asked me if that was what I needed to do to help refocus. I sobbed yes. I know at least half of that answer was in all seriousness and the other half was my body crying out for carbs. Sweet, delectable, life giving carbs! OK, so maybe I am an addict.
We stopped off at Yokes. My spirits were lifting the closer we got to the treat isle. Aaand the pie was mine. I held that pie in my hands for two hours. Looking at it. Thinking about it. Sugar soaked flaky crust surrounding cherry like substance! I was also thinking, do I really want this? Will this make all of my hard work these last two weeks be for nothing? Screw it! I opened that damn wrapper and took a big bite. It was...just OK. I didn't want it after the first few bites, but having been inducted into the Clean Your Plate Club at an early age, I finished it.
I had an epiphany after that sugar and fat laden treat. I knew I couldn't be as strict with myself like my surgeon wanted me to. I just couldn't do it. At least, not yet. It was however, what I needed to get my resolve back. I reassessed. As I added a few more carbs back into my diet, sanity was added along with them. I am loosing the weight and I'm doing it faster my way. I've noticed that it comes off in chunks. I need to be down 10 pounds by my next visit on June 9th. I'm already there and still going down. I'll need a cushion for some of the water weight I'm sure to put on in the drive up there. I'm doing alright so far.
I've been on my surgeon supervised diet for a month now. It's been Heidi revised to be quite honest. It's still protein first and fluids, fluids, fluids, but I allow myself more leeway on the carbohydrates. I just couldn't comply to the super strict rules of the original diet. I did for the first two weeks. It was difficult to say the least. Yah, it pretty much sucked. (cue flashback music)
The first two weeks I felt like a drug addict getting detoxed. I was only having only 25 carbs a day, maybe. My youngest daughter Lindsay had some crackers and I nearly tackled her for them! One night I broke down in tears in the car and begged Jeff to drive to the nearest store for a Hostess cherry pie and a glass of milk. Jeff's been supportive of me and my crazy antics throughout the years and he could sense my desperation. This was real desperation, not the dramatics that may or may not go on at times. Jeff then asked me if that was what I needed to do to help refocus. I sobbed yes. I know at least half of that answer was in all seriousness and the other half was my body crying out for carbs. Sweet, delectable, life giving carbs! OK, so maybe I am an addict.
We stopped off at Yokes. My spirits were lifting the closer we got to the treat isle. Aaand the pie was mine. I held that pie in my hands for two hours. Looking at it. Thinking about it. Sugar soaked flaky crust surrounding cherry like substance! I was also thinking, do I really want this? Will this make all of my hard work these last two weeks be for nothing? Screw it! I opened that damn wrapper and took a big bite. It was...just OK. I didn't want it after the first few bites, but having been inducted into the Clean Your Plate Club at an early age, I finished it.
I had an epiphany after that sugar and fat laden treat. I knew I couldn't be as strict with myself like my surgeon wanted me to. I just couldn't do it. At least, not yet. It was however, what I needed to get my resolve back. I reassessed. As I added a few more carbs back into my diet, sanity was added along with them. I am loosing the weight and I'm doing it faster my way. I've noticed that it comes off in chunks. I need to be down 10 pounds by my next visit on June 9th. I'm already there and still going down. I'll need a cushion for some of the water weight I'm sure to put on in the drive up there. I'm doing alright so far.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
On my way
I know that most people refer to their weight loss after surgery as a "journey". I've never liked that for some reason or another. I know that it's a very good term for what one goes through, but it always just sounded melodramatic if you will. Please don't hate me! If it works for you, I mean no offense, but it just doesn't fit me.
So, I was thinking, what would I call it? I felt I needed to look back and see how I got to where I am, which is very obese. I will tell you that my weight problems didn't begin until my first pregnancy. In fact, they didn't even start until the third trimester. I was put on bed rest, living at my in-laws, super depressed, super young, and had a very loving husband that would get me anything I wanted. Sadly, everything I wanted was total junk. Taco Bell, Arby's, McDonald's, Pizza Hut, and everything in between. I know that they have healthy options at those restaurants, but I wasn't interested. Portion control wasn't in my vocabulary either. Well, that's not entirely true, I wanted more portions and I lost control. Actually, I never had control over my portions throughout my life. I was just always so active that I never had any weight issues. I ate all I wanted of whatever I wanted. I was told constantly that I shouldn't, but in a very passive aggressive way that only my Mother could deliver. I ate to comfort myself since there was none to be had anywhere else. I was taught to believe I was fat around the time I was in the 4th grade. This was total and utter crap, but there it is.
I was built differently than the "normal" girls. I was muscular. I had a booty. I had what was considered a perfect hourglass figure and I didn't ever embrace it. I wanted to be like Kate Moss, Heidi Klum, Christy Turlington, and dear God, Nikki Taylor. Nikki Taylor was the bane of my existence. She was the exact opposite of me. Tall, lean, boy-like figure, tan, and blond. It didn't help that the boy I was in love with at the time had the hots for her. I was curvy and I wanted desperately to be lanky. I have my Welsh/German/Danish pale skin that would burn and freckle if left out in the sun. My hair was a, dare I say, mousy brown, and my eyes matched my hair. I didn't understand that no matter how much I worked out or dieted, I would NEVER look like those girls. I didn't know that there were different body types. If I just tried harder I could look like them. So, that beautiful body was wasted on the likes of me. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Once the bed rest started all activity stopped, but the food kept a coming. I had my beautiful baby girl in the summer of 98' and my hubby and I were headed to college in the fall. I was a good 50 lbs heavier then before the pregnancy. College life was very difficult with a baby and a new husband. I leaned hard on my old friend, food, to get me through. I had terrible depression, and I was on anti-depressants, but they did little to help me. I quickly packed on more weight. I was in the 200's and steadily rising. I didn't even notice it. I just kept on going up and up. I found out I was pregnant with my second daughter when I was 265. I was terrified. I was sure I was going to end up 500 lbs after she was born. During that pregnancy I hardly ate at all. I lost weight. I only gained 5 lbs in the last two weeks before I delivered.
Fast forward through the last 10 years. I have done every diet, doctor supervised and on my own. I've tried every form of exercise and bought numerous gym memberships. I lose some and gain it back. I've even applied to the Biggest Loser. Made a video and everything.
I'm ready for a real change and I need help to do it. I'm getting a Duodenal Switch hopefully in August or September. I'm already learning how to eat high protein low carb. I'm on a strict surgeon supervised diet. You might be wondering, "Well, why don't you just keep doing that and lose your weight on your own without surgery?" To that I say, "Because I know I can't do it alone for extended periods of time without a tool to help me." The surgery is that tool. If you don't like it, too bad. It's my life and I'm doing what's right for me. You do you, and let me do me.
What to call this transformation of body, mind, life, and spirit? I'm going to embrace my curves, my goddess's body. I'm going to love my soft luminous complexion, that I get many complements on. And my hair isn't mousy and neither are my eyes, they're gorgeous and warm. What am I calling it? I'm calling it a comeback.
So, I was thinking, what would I call it? I felt I needed to look back and see how I got to where I am, which is very obese. I will tell you that my weight problems didn't begin until my first pregnancy. In fact, they didn't even start until the third trimester. I was put on bed rest, living at my in-laws, super depressed, super young, and had a very loving husband that would get me anything I wanted. Sadly, everything I wanted was total junk. Taco Bell, Arby's, McDonald's, Pizza Hut, and everything in between. I know that they have healthy options at those restaurants, but I wasn't interested. Portion control wasn't in my vocabulary either. Well, that's not entirely true, I wanted more portions and I lost control. Actually, I never had control over my portions throughout my life. I was just always so active that I never had any weight issues. I ate all I wanted of whatever I wanted. I was told constantly that I shouldn't, but in a very passive aggressive way that only my Mother could deliver. I ate to comfort myself since there was none to be had anywhere else. I was taught to believe I was fat around the time I was in the 4th grade. This was total and utter crap, but there it is.
I was built differently than the "normal" girls. I was muscular. I had a booty. I had what was considered a perfect hourglass figure and I didn't ever embrace it. I wanted to be like Kate Moss, Heidi Klum, Christy Turlington, and dear God, Nikki Taylor. Nikki Taylor was the bane of my existence. She was the exact opposite of me. Tall, lean, boy-like figure, tan, and blond. It didn't help that the boy I was in love with at the time had the hots for her. I was curvy and I wanted desperately to be lanky. I have my Welsh/German/Danish pale skin that would burn and freckle if left out in the sun. My hair was a, dare I say, mousy brown, and my eyes matched my hair. I didn't understand that no matter how much I worked out or dieted, I would NEVER look like those girls. I didn't know that there were different body types. If I just tried harder I could look like them. So, that beautiful body was wasted on the likes of me. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Once the bed rest started all activity stopped, but the food kept a coming. I had my beautiful baby girl in the summer of 98' and my hubby and I were headed to college in the fall. I was a good 50 lbs heavier then before the pregnancy. College life was very difficult with a baby and a new husband. I leaned hard on my old friend, food, to get me through. I had terrible depression, and I was on anti-depressants, but they did little to help me. I quickly packed on more weight. I was in the 200's and steadily rising. I didn't even notice it. I just kept on going up and up. I found out I was pregnant with my second daughter when I was 265. I was terrified. I was sure I was going to end up 500 lbs after she was born. During that pregnancy I hardly ate at all. I lost weight. I only gained 5 lbs in the last two weeks before I delivered.
Fast forward through the last 10 years. I have done every diet, doctor supervised and on my own. I've tried every form of exercise and bought numerous gym memberships. I lose some and gain it back. I've even applied to the Biggest Loser. Made a video and everything.
I'm ready for a real change and I need help to do it. I'm getting a Duodenal Switch hopefully in August or September. I'm already learning how to eat high protein low carb. I'm on a strict surgeon supervised diet. You might be wondering, "Well, why don't you just keep doing that and lose your weight on your own without surgery?" To that I say, "Because I know I can't do it alone for extended periods of time without a tool to help me." The surgery is that tool. If you don't like it, too bad. It's my life and I'm doing what's right for me. You do you, and let me do me.
What to call this transformation of body, mind, life, and spirit? I'm going to embrace my curves, my goddess's body. I'm going to love my soft luminous complexion, that I get many complements on. And my hair isn't mousy and neither are my eyes, they're gorgeous and warm. What am I calling it? I'm calling it a comeback.
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