Archive for the '30 Day Shred' Category

Shredding Again

Sheeeeeeee’s baaaaaack.  Who?  Jillian Michaels is back, and she’s in my Entertainment Room at 6am every morning.  Longtime readers may remember when I did The 30 Day Shred and blogged every day of it.  Click here for a refresher.

Well, I kept it up for a couple years, slowing down here and there, and taking breaks when I got hurt.  Remember my knee? Yeah, I stopped the Shred then.  I picked it back up, but stopped again when my foot started giving me trouble.  I even used my thumb as an excuse!  What?  That was totally legit.  Pele didn’t want me doing The Shred. Who am I to argue?  Then, my foot started aching again, and despite no answers via the MRI (besides the “well, we don’t have to amputate” verdict), and I let the excuses take over.  The Shred is hard.  I’m lazy.  We hiked around all summer on our Letterboxing Adventures, isn’t that enough?

I knew it wasn’t, but I wasn’t motivated enough to do anything about it.  Wanna know what’s motivating?  The beach.  In Mexico.

Well, guess what!  We’ll be frolicking on the beach in Cozumel in one month, so now is the perfect time to hit the Shred and hit it hard.

I’ve completed Day 3, and my goal for today is to go up and down the stairs without making a spectacle of myself.  Yesterday, I wasn’t so successful at that.  ”Are you okay, Momma?” Claire would ask. “I’ll be okay,” I’d say, willing it to be true.

I’m an old lady.

The challenging news is that this time around, my schedule is all different.  I can’t lounge in bed until getting up at an incredibly indecent hour and then do the Shred.  I have to get up before the sun.  I’ve been getting up at 6am on school days, giving myself plenty of time to “wake up” before getting Claire up.  Now, my waking up process involves being tortured by Jillian Michaels.  It’s okay.  I may or may not pretend to punch her in the face during the routine, so I think we’re even.  (What?  We all find our motivation in different places.)

The good news?  It works.  I know it works.  I’m already seeing a difference, and it’s just Day 3. I WILL see this through to the end.

Bring it on, Jillian.
Bring it on.

Ignoring the unopened bag of excuses

Well, it’s been 4-months since I hurt my knee. The doctor said it could take 6-months for it to heal. It’s not back to 100% yet, but I decided to try The Shred again.

You see, I could tell I needed to do something. My hips have started hurting again. I threw my back all out of whack doing strenuous work…you know, like rolling over to smack the snooze button. Really. That’s crazy!

It’s time to get back into The Shred. It was the only thing that worked for my hip and back pain. I’d stopped doing it when I hurt my knee, and I was fine for a while. Well, knee pain or not, let’s just see what I can do. No more excuses!

Is it just me, or are excuses like an unopened bag of Doritos? I can avoid an unopened bag of Doritos. It takes a lot of concentration to avoid an opened bag of Doritos. When I’m focused, I can do it, or have just one chip. Really, I can. One chip is fine, when it’s really just one chip.

But, when I’m weakened already (by physical pain, like by a knee injury), I cant ignore an unopened bag.  I open it, and then an opened bag of excuses are just too hard to resist. I shove one after one into my mouth, and I get orange excuse dust all over my fingers.

And I love it.
I crave them.
Give me more!
…and a napkin!

It usually takes something else to snap me back to reality. Tweaking my back this week is what did it for me. Fine. I’ll start The Shred again. I’ve done it numerous times in the past, and it was awesome for me. I saw results! I think I saw too many results, so I felt I could slack off.

Shred? Schmed! Who needs the Shred!? Look at me flex!

After being successful in The Shred, you can slack off. But not for very long.

So, what was in my delicious bag of excuses? First off was the knee injury. Truth be told, I could have tried to modify The Shred to get something out of it. But, I didn’t. That proved to be too hard for me to do. Some can. I couldn’t.

Another tasty goodness in the bag? My husband talked me into getting a new television system in our bedroom. This would be perfect for me to do The Shred in there! That seems like a non-excuse, right?! The high ceilings and plenty of space would make it perfect! The problem? I don’t have an advanced degree in whatever it takes to figure out his remote system. I consider myself to be a relatively intelligent person, and I can show you how to run the system downstairs, which, technically qualifies me to launch the Space Shuttle. I’m not kidding.

But this one? This “easier” system? No clue. I learned my lesson long ago, that if you don’t know how to use a system, poking random buttons is rarely a good idea. So, I just let it go.

Of course, now that my knee is feeling somewhat better, I could go all the way downstairs and use the system that I used when I did the Shred all those times before. That, I’m afraid, would be too easy. Plus, these excuses make such a delicious crunch when you bite into them; don’t you think?

Well, today, I ran out of excuses. The bag is empty.  There was just some orange dust in the bottom of the silver bag, taunting me.

I summoned the energy I had when I started this journey last year, and I did Day 1 of the Shred. After taking notes (what? don’t laugh), I remembered how to play a DVD upstairs. Claire helped me get out my mat and my weights. I gave 20-minutes of my life over to Jillian, and it was awesome.

Of course, just as I put the DVD into the machine, I found an unopened bag of excuses. I ignored it, pushed “play,” and pushed through the cravings.

Getting back into this routine really does feel great. My knee is a little tender, but my hips and my back will thank me for this. All of the other benefits of a daily exercise routine will help me ignore the unopened bag of Dorito-like excuses.

And, I won’t get orange dust on my fingers anymore.

Obstacles

All the way to my doctor’s appointment yesterday, I wondered if I’d missed a memo.

I was leaving straight from Claire’s preschool, which puts me a little closer to the highway.  (I got the earliest possible appointment, and should have enough time to make it.)  Normally, I avoid a certain highway going certain directions at certain times of day, and as I looked at my car clock-radio, I could hear my husband’s voice chiding me.

“I can’t believe you don’t take the highway. It’s so much faster, and more direct!” he says, albeit in my head.

“Unless you’re stuck in gridlock,” I counter. “Who cares if it’s a straight line if you’re not moving, or if you’re trying to avoid playing bumper-cars with the other crazies?”

“You’re just not used to driving in rush-hour traffic anymore,” he says. “It’s not like this is abnormal.”

“Exactly. I don’t drive in rush-hour anymore. Why should I if I don’t have to?” I ask.

Even though this was a conversation in my head, I decided to let him win. How bad could it be? It’s almost 9am…it should be fine. If it is truly faster (the jury is still out on that one), I need every extra minute I can get. I hate being rushed, but there was no way to avoid this. I was just glad they had an appointment that matched Claire’s preschool schedule.

I headed toward the highway.  As I was taking the entrance ramp, I saw the parking lot before me. It’s not even moving! Great.

Luckily enough, I’d decided to take this entrance ramp, because there’s an escape route of sorts onto a side street. So, I took it.

No highway for me today!

Since I was already over in this area, I decided to take the ninja route which parallels the highway, just to see how far down the clog was. The traffic was backed up as far as I could see.

So, I ended up cutting across town and took the way I would normally go. This is the way my husband hates to take. It’s a little farther to drive (maybe…again, this hasn’t been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt), but almost always has no delays. Of course, with all my course-corrections, I’m a little behind schedule.

As I’m getting to the street I need, I see a construction sign warning me that such-n-such road is closed up ahead and that alternate routes are advised. Could I remember the name of that street where I make my turn?

No. I don’t need to know the name…I know where it is. It doesn’t matter anyway, because it’s either the street I need or it isn’t. Any alternate routes would have to be on past the construction. I mean, if it was actually the street I needed, isn’t that sign in the wrong place? It’s too late to turn back if it’s the street they’re talking about.

Sure enough, the road I’m on is down to one-lane with a flagger.  The road I normally take is the one under construction and completely closed.

Sweet!

After waiting my turn, driving through the construction zone and making up an even more creative route, I arrived at the hospital with few minutes to spare. As I’m walking to the building, I notice that the entrance I normally use is barricaded.

What is going on!? Am I missing something??

A parking lot of a highway, a construction delay, a closed road, and a barricaded entrance. “We tried to stop her at every turn, but she just kept going,” I could hear the gods whispering amongst themselves.

I found another way to get to the office I needed and arrived before my appointment. Luckily, I’d filled all the “new patient” paperwork out at home, so I wasn’t rushed.

So, how did the appointment turn out? What’s the verdict on my knee?

The good news: I really like my doctor, and I’m really glad I got to meet him. I was able to get my flu shot while I was there, so there is no added co-payment or expense to do that.

The I-suppose-it’s-good-news: The way my knee feels is normal for the type of injury I have.

The I’m-really-trying-to-spin-this-in-a-positive-way-but-it’s-kinda-bad-news: I have a “severely bruised bone,” and it’s causing trouble where the tendons attach. There isn’t anything they can do for my knee. It could take 6-months for it to heal. There isn’t anything I can take for the pain. There isn’t anything I should have done differently. (Besides going back in time and not falling, which can’t be remedied now…) I just have to avoid doing things that make it hurt.

And, after avoiding so many obstacles on the way to the doctor’s office…what’s a few more?

Get down on your knees…or not.

So, I broke down and made an appointment for my knee.

I think it’s officially been upgraded from “skinned knee fiasco” to more of a real “knee injury.”

As you may remember, I fell. I wasn’t doing anything exciting; I just fell.

That was three weeks ago.

Now, for the record, I tried to learn to be patient once, but it took way too long so I gave it up.  Maybe I’m not the best judge of how long something is supposed to take.  Still…three weeks seems a bit excessive, no?  It has physically healed on the outside.  The scab has come off.  It’s not infected (that I can tell).  But, I still can’t put any direct pressure on it.

Whenever I talk about my knee, it’s confusing and I need to whip out the whiteboard and draw diagrams.  If I say, “I can’t put any pressure on it,” that implies that I can’t walk on it.  That’s not true.  I can.  Going up and down stairs still hurts a little, but that’s not what I’m talking about.  I can’t get on my knees without there being excruciating pain.

This puts a crimp in a lot of what I do during the day.

(Insert horribly inappropriate jokes here…)  ;)

I’m talking about buckling and unbuckling Claire’s car seat, helping Claire put away toys, and giving Claire a bath.

In fact, you’d be surprised at how much I use my knee.

So, it’s been three weeks.  That’s too long.  Tomorrow, I get to meet our new doctor and have him tell me that there’s nothing wrong with it.

I hope.

Because “I have a knee injury” doesn’t make me sound like such a dork.

A week ago Sunday, we took a little road trip to a city north of us. We have out-of-state friends who were going to be in that area with their baby girl while visiting some relatives, and we’d been invited to go spend lunch and the afternoon with them.

It was great to see them!

After lunch, the six of us headed out to explore the town on foot. While on the way to our next destination, Claire tripped and fell, skinning both knees. If you’ve spent any time at all around a preschooler, you know that this is par for the course. I had some Hello Kitty™ Band-aids in my purse, and once those were applied, Claire was good as new.

We had a great visit, and when it was time to say our good-byes, they commented about Claire’s skinned knees, hoping she felt better. In true form, she’d already forgotten about them. Then, we started talking about how if one of us skinned our knee, it would be terrible. “I’d have to take the day off work!” one of our friends joked. We all agreed.

None of us heard the ominous music playing in the background.

We parted ways, and we started walking back to our car. It was a great day; the new scenery of a different town was interesting. It was flat. Very flat. By this time, Claire was riding in the umbrella stroller, with Daddy pushing her toward our car. We could see it! There it is…right there up ahead.

All of a sudden, I fell. I don’t even know what happened. My right ankle twisted when I tripped on a clod of air, and I fell. Hard. Right on my left knee. The mangled mess was disturbing to say the least. Blood was dripping down my leg.  The palms of my hands were all bruised and scraped.  I was trying not to panic. I got up, took three steps and fell again. On the same knee.

To my husband’s credit, he responded appropriately. It’s taken him over 10 years to learn that the first response is never supposed to be, “What the blankety-blank happened!?” The first response is always supposed to be “Are you okay!?”

But, I wasn’t. I wasn’t okay. I don’t know why I fell. All of the obvious indicators didn’t fit. I hadn’t been drinking. I was wearing heeled sandals, but I’ve worn them a million times. The sidewalk wasn’t uneven. There weren’t any massive cracks. But, it was what it was, and I needed our first aid kit.

I hobbled to the car, trying really hard not to sob.  It seemed miles away, but in reality was just a couple blocks. The tears were streaming down my face, and Claire was a little freaked out. Daddy got Claire strapped into her car seat, and he got the first aid kit that I carry with me everywhere. (If I don’t have it in my purse, it’s in the trunk of my car.) Luckily, we had a Band-Aid big enough.  Barely.  The skinned area just below my knee was huge and gruesome.

After I got home, I cleaned it thoroughly and then freaked out some more at the swelling. The area was all swollen and gross. I bandaged it again and then sat with it iced and elevated.

It’s been a week, and I’m happy to report that it’s healing, but it’s still very painful. The location of it is such that I have to move it when I walk. That movement makes the healing process very painful and slow.

I’ve had to alter how I do some things, and I can’t wait to walk again without pain and a limp. I realize I’m very lucky in the grand scheme of things. It wasn’t like the last time I fell. I am still mobile. I still have the use of all my limbs.

Edited to add: Needless to say, my newest challenge has been put on hold indefinitely. :(

I do, however, need to come up with a better story, because, “I have a skinned knee” just sounds silly and doesn’t quite represent the reality of the situation.

Or maybe it does, and I’m just not as tough as most 3-yr olds. :)

Committed: to the goal or into the loony bin? Time will tell.

Long-time readers of the blog know about my little 30 Day Shred Adventure. In fact, many first-time readers of the blog are brought here when they search for information about The 30 Day Shred.  (Welcome!)  Was that really back in March? I completed it, saw awesome results and then kept at it. I’ve dabbled in some other things, and while I love hate love The Shred, I was getting bored.

When I’m bored with a program and have no set goals, I tend to slack.

I don’t want all my hard work to go to waste, so when I read about another challenge, I was intrigued.

200 sit-ups?
200 squats?
100 push-ups?

I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over all the hysterical laughter in my head.

But then I thought about it.
And, then I looked at the links describing what to do.

And, then I tried to find where the line started…you know…the line people were forming to jump off the bridge.

Hey guys, wait for me!

Some are calling this the September Challenge, but I was a bit late to the starting gate. I will either catch up or be a day or two behind…and that’s okay.

I decided to do the “test.” The test is where you see how many sit-ups, squats, and push-ups you can do before collapsing, throwing up, or both. This gives you your base number, and then you use the provided charts to follow the exercise routine. Three days a week for six weeks, you follow the little numbers on the chart, and there you go.

It’s so simple.
It’s numbers based.

I love hate love it already.

Did I mention that completing The Shred has made me a tad crazy? No? Forget I said anything then…

So, where was I…oh, right. On Wednesday, I did the test. I think doing this on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays will be good for me.

You want to know my results of the test?

I was able to do 18 push-ups before collapsing. 18!? Some may think that’s piddly, but I’ll have you know that that’s 17-and-a-half more than I could do before The Shred. This score, based on my age, put me at the Level 3 on the handy-dandy little chart, which is pretty low.

I was able to do 100 sit-ups before my abs burst into flames. According to the “rules” for this challenge, we are really doing crunches…not a “true” sit-up. Still, 100 put me in the excellent category, so my ego was somewhat bolstered after the pounding it took for my pathetic push-up score.

I was able to do 125 squats before my legs turned into noodles. This was also in the excellent category.

Then, I nearly collapsed.

I just knew that I wouldn’t be able to haul myself out of bed the next morning, but you know what? I was! I wasn’t even in any noticeable pain! Granted, that night, I hobbled around like an old lady, so I have a feeling once I begin the program, I’m in for a treat. Heh. :)

So, we’ll see where this goes.  I’m committed to following this fitness challenge. Whether or not I should be committed into the loony bin has yet to be seen.

Time will tell, I guess.

I’m publishing this before completing Day One of the challenge, and if I have the energy, I’ll report back.  So…stay tuned!

Edited to add:  I did it!  I completed Day One, and it wasn’t as hideous as I thought it would be.  After tallying all the different sets, it’s amazing to think I did 46 pushups, 113 situps and 147 squats.  That’s just crazytalk!

I keep telling myself if I can survive Jillian, I can survive anything. :)

Not a Summer Camp for Shoes

So, last weekend, I went to a Boot Camp. One of my friends had invited me to join her at this free event put on by her gym. I figured, “Why not?” I’d always been curious as to what these entailed, and now that I’m in the midst of doing the 30 Day Shred again, I wanted to see what all I could do.

Plus, how bad could it be?

I deal with pain and the potential for pain with humor, so it was no surprise that my Twitter Updates and Facebook Statuses up to that day were filled with questions about Boot Camp and if it was like a Summer Camp for Shoes.

I can’t say I was surprised to find out that it was just what I thought it would be. Deep down, I knew it would be hard.

I try to keep this blog clean, for the most part, so I will refrain from using the language necessary to describe this Boot Camp.

There were no songs. There were no crafts. There were no marshmallows to roast. And, no one even wore their boots. I feel totally misled! ;)

It was an hour of pure torture. I can honestly say that without my experience with The Shred, or getting to this place weight-wise in the first place, I would have died. I would have keeled over on the lawn and collapsed. It was intense!

After the HOUR (yes, HOUR) was over, I was exhausted, but I didn’t feel too bad. My friend asked me if I’d consider doing another one, and I heard my voice say I would. Then I laughed and joked that I’d give her an answer tomorrow.

Well, the next day rolled around, and I almost sent her a text that read, “I hate you.” But, I’ve seen enough Law & Orders to know that things like that taken out of context are never a good thing. Plus, the strength needed to open my cell phone was proving to be too much for me.

My whole entire body was broken. I’m not sure how it happened, which of the running laps or sprints or jumping jacks or squats or pushups or kickboxing routines (on repeat) was the final straw, but my body was broken. Maybe it was the part where they made us run up and over the picnic tables? I don’t know.

My husband wouldn’t let me do my next day of the Shred. I didn’t have the energy to fight him, and I figured that 60 full-minutes of Shred-like workouts should count for something.

I’m still sore, but I have almost a full-range-of-motion in my extremities back. I am back onto the routine now, after taking a break for a couple of days. And, if you have a problem with that, I’ll show you some of the kickboxing moves I learned. :) You think I’m kidding? At one point one of the three massively muscular trainers was giving me a hard time, er, I mean “being encouraging,” and I asked him if we could go back to those moves and use his head as a target. He thought I was kidding.

Heh.

But, I did it! I completed a Boot Camp without barfing and without passing out. Yes, those really were my two goals.

Will I do it again?
Ask me when the drugs have worn off…

:)

She had me at Skinny

Back in March, I started the 30 Day Shred, did my 30-days-straight, and then continued using it as a daily routine, doing a few days of each level here and there. I took a break here and there, because I felt as though I deserved it, and I did.  (You can read about the whole adventure here…including pictures of my results!)

I knew that I’d be leaving on vacation and I wondered what would happen. I wanted to continue doing something, but I wasn’t sure how that would work. My husband told me not to spend too much time worrying about it, because 1) we were going on vacation, and the point is to relax, and 2) we’d be hiking almost every day, in one form or another.

When I was packing for my trip, I debated leaving my workout clothes, shoes and weights at home. What were the odds of using them? My sister had said she was interested in checking out the DVD, so I was bringing that. I debated with myself about what to do. Bring them and lug them around, not using them? Don’t bring them and kick myself if I found myself at the perfect opportunity to use them?

In the end, I put them in my bag. That way, I’d have them, but I promised not to beat myself up if I didn’t get a chance to use them.

None of the hotels we stayed in had DVD players, so I couldn’t follow the DVD.  Some mornings, I’d do a few of the moves from memory, but I didn’t have a chance to do the 20-minutes every day. The non-schedule and full-on relaxation mode of vacation was intoxicating, and I never got out the weights. Or my exercise clothes. Or my exercise shoes. They stayed neatly packed.

The DVD got some use…but not by me. My sister, the one who we were going to visit in California, and the one who does pilates and works out every day at the gym was able to borrow the DVD, and she was promptly hooked. She bought it and is now working through it. Because she’s fit and thin and wasn’t a slug like I was when I started it, she’s not in nearly as much pain as I was at the beginning, but that’s okay.

I was able to enjoy my vacation and the fruits of my hard work in doing the Shred in the first place. I had more stamina for hiking, and my energy levels were kept up the whole vacation. But, I knew that when I got back home, I needed to get back on track or I’d lose what I’d worked so hard to gain (or vice versa, as the case may be). ;)

So, I’m re-starting the 30 Day Shred, from the beginning, 10-days each level. I won’t be blogging about it every day, but I will be referring to it on Twitter. (If you don’t follow me on Twitter, you can see some of my latest updates down on the left-hand column of the blog.) Today was the completion of Day 2. Again. It’s 100 times better the second time around, but it’s still a real workout.

People ask me what my favorite part of our vacation was, and I give the appropriate answers: the beach, the Grand Canyon, LegoLand, The San Diego Zoo, spending quality time with my husband and little girl, seeing friends and relatives, being able to unwind and decompress. I had a fabulous time, and it’s hard to choose what to say first, so over the coming days, I’ll be sharing our adventures.

But, the real answer? The answer that immediately jumps to the forefront of my mind and makes me smile? Remembering the look on my sister’s face when she screeched, “You’re so skinny!” THAT was my favorite part of my vacation, and I’m going to do what I can to maintain it.

What day is it?

So, I didn’t do the Shred yesterday.

Why?

  1. I figured that it was supposed to be Day 34, and any day that starts with a 3 is okay to take a break.
  2. My knees were killing me!  I don’t have knee problems!  I’d heard of other Shredheads having knee issues, and didn’t think it would happen to me.
  3. It did.
  4. I like making lists.
  5. Four is my favorite number, so I should have stopped there in the list.

Anyway, today, I thought I’d jump back into it.  Is today Day 34?  Or 35?  Eh…doesn’t matter.  Right?  The Perfectionist part of me really wants to know, but the Casual part says it doesn’t really matter.  Neither side has the energy to argue about it.  :)

I asked Claire which Level she wanted to do, and she told me Level 4.  There is no Level 4.  Thank goodness!

So, we decided since I’d done two days at Level 1 again and took a break that I could do Level 2 again.

You know that part in Level 2 where Jillian says, “Block it out” at the end?  Well, apparently I had.  (It’s okay.  As a former counselor, I would tell you that blocking things out is a coping mechanism and somewhat effective at times.)

I’d forgotten the oblique twists.  How can you forget the oblique twists?

Claire was doing them today and got herself spinning in a circle and then fell down.  She laughed and screamed, “My OH-BLEEK TRISTS just knocked me down!”  Had I been capable of laughing at that point, I would have.

You’d think that after 33+ days (there! that’s a good way to say it!), I’d have the energy to laugh in the middle of the workout.

I’d forgotten how wrung out it makes you feel.  I literally collapsed on the floor at the end.  Oh, Level 2, how I’ve missed you.  Jillian.  What have you done to me?  I willingly come back for more…almost every day…give or take a day past 33.  ;)

You can check out all my Shredding Adventures by clicking here!

Who is that lady standing with my daddy?

“Who is that lady standing with my daddy?” Claire asked as I was clicking through old photos.  Her question actually took my breath away.  I was looking for my “before” photo that I used when I was in Weight Watchers. My recent completion (and continuation) of The 30 Day Shred has accidentally inspired quite a few people, and some of them had asked about my weight-loss journey. I’ve decided to write about it, and I’m sorting through the photos.

“That’s me! That’s Momma!” I said.

“Where? Behind that lady with Daddy?” She wasn’t convinced.

“No, that was me. That was Momma with Daddy, before I lost weight. See?” and I clicked to the photo from November 2002.

Basically, my hair color was the point of reference she needed.

“Why did your style change, Momma?” was her polite and innocent way of asking what had happened.

…and this is that story.

May 2001 vs. November 2002

May 2001 vs. November 2002

I never weighed myself before Weight Watchers. We never even owned a scales, and I would be weighed at my yearly exam at the doctor’s office, so my weight was being recorded somewhere, but I never cared to remember it.

I never kept track of what size of clothes I wore. Large. I wore large. Or eXtra Large. Or maybe there was more than one X if I wanted to be comfortable. My top-half was always lots bigger than my bottom-half, so I hated shopping.

Usually, I wore sizes 18/20. Sometimes the sizes were larger.  Sometimes 14/16 would fit.    It all just depended, and I really never gave it a second thought. I had curves, so I felt sexy in the right clothes. The right clothes made me look proportional. Admittedly, I wasn’t wearing the “correct” shirt in that before picture. It was far from slimming. I was never really self-conscious about my weight.

I was who I was, and I was okay with that.

I was a really skinny little girl. I was average in high school and college. Or maybe I wasn’t. When did I get bigger? I don’t really remember. I never saw myself as fat. I never saw myself as overweight. I knew parts of me were “big,” but I was okay with that. I’d accepted that. I’d had to wear “over the shoulder boulder holders” (as coined by my little brother.  Gotta love little brothers.) for what seemed like my entire tenure as a “woman,” so bigger sizes just came with the territory.

My husband never had an issue with my size, and he never said an iota about my weight or my shape or anything at all. Total, mutual, unconditional acceptance is wonderful.

But, I will never forget sitting at a stoplight on the way to work one day and looking down and thinking, “I’ll always be this way. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to change.  But, I don’t need to.  Right?” I don’t remember what prompted it. Maybe it was a commercial on the radio? That detail is lost to me, but I remember the resignation I felt.  Only, I pretended it was acceptance.

I’ll always be me.
What does it matter what I weigh?
The important thing is that I’m happy. And, I’m happy. Right?  Right.

That moment planted a seed in my brain. What if I could change? What if I could lose weight? I talked to my husband about it, and he told me that if I wanted to change for me, to do it. But, that he loved me just the way I was. I could tell he really meant it.

I tried watching what I was eating, but without a real plan, I floundered. I didn’t know what I was doing. That’s when I decided to join Weight Watchers.

In September of 2002, I attended my first meeting and first weigh-in. At that time, they were on the “Points Plan” or whatever they called it. Basically, without giving away too many company secrets, every food item or beverage you consume has a point value that is calculated by a secret equation of fiber, calories, and grams of fat. (You get guide books of food lists and a really cool little sliding-card-dealie to help you calculate the magical number.) You were allotted a certain number of points per day. If you want to lose weight, keep within your points-range value.

How do you keep track of this? Write down every single thing you eat or drink in a journal along with the point value.

It was simple.
It was calculated.
It was detailed.
I love all three of those things, and I’m good at following the rules.

But, it was also lenient enough that I could eat real food. I just couldn’t eat buckets of it. I had to stay within my points for the day. Since it was a point-range, you could save up points for a little splurge out with friends, as long as you stay within your boundaries when it was all said and done. It took a little bit of planning at times, but that’s to be expected.  You can write what you want down in your journal, and you can lie to your journal, but the scales will never lie to you…so it’s best to just be honest and deal with the reality of the situation. :)

Another big part of weight loss was water intake. Admittedly, before Weight Watchers, I never drank enough water.  On the plan, I followed their suggestions, and nearly floated away the first week. But, imagine my surprise when I saw that I’d lost 5 lbs the first week! No, my results weren’t typical, but I was astounded.

Who knew that drinking water and writing down what you were eating would make you lose weight!? (Obviously it’s more involved than that, but it really is that simple. Easy? No. Simple? Yes.)

My hubby was completely on board with this new plan, and he even helped me write the point values on the sides of the boxes we had in the cupboards. (Rather than figure it every time, it was super-simple to look at the number we’d written on the box.) He never made fun of me for measuring my portions. When the carton says a serving is 1/4 cup, it’s really 1/4 cup. At restaurants, he didn’t even bat an eye when I’d ask the waiter to bring me a box with my food order so that I could put half of whatever was on my plate in the take-home box right away and set it by my purse. Out of sight; out of my mouth…and ultimately off of my journal and off the scales.

Sometime over the next week or so, I’ll post some other tips and tricks I learned that really helped me!

Weight Watchers helped me figure out why I was drawn to eating the way I had been eating. For me, there was a lot of emotional ties to the food I chose to eat. With the help of the meetings, I was able to dissect the issue, pull out the problem parts and look at them under the glaring lights. Out in the open, the emotional issues shriveled up. They no longer held any power.

A lot of my emotional issues stem from the way I was raised. I know my mother didn’t mean any harm when she’d say, “How was your day? Here, have a brownie. You’ll feel better.” The brownie made me feel better. In actuality, it was probably the talking about my day while eating the brownie that made me feel better, but my brain latched onto the power of the brownie.

Eat this, and all your troubles will go away.

When I realized what was happening, I had more control over what I wanted to eat. I could decipher the “why” I wanted to eat and then plan accordingly. I realized I could appreciate a nice meal and not eat too much. I could have one piece of chocolate, if I wanted, and not eat a whole box. I could walk into the Godiva Chocolates store and just smell the wonderfulness of it all and walk out without buying anything.

Remember the Sex and the City episode where Miranda joins Weight Watchers? Just like her challenges in that episode, MY Weight Watchers facility was literally next door to a Dairy Queen. Do you know how cruel that is? Do you know how much energy it took for me to park in front of that store and not go in?

Well, I harnessed that energy and focused it on my weight loss goals.

By the end of the year, I had lost 40 lbs. and hit my goal weight and became a Lifetime Member. I was ecstatic.

But that wasn’t the end of my journey.

For the longest time, even in my size 2 and size 4 clothes I felt like I was an overweight person trapped inside the body of a thin woman. I felt like I was wearing a disguise. People treated me differently, in a good way, and I’d never really noticed being treated poorly when I was heavier-set. Had I been? Had I been blind to it?

There was a lot of mental stuff I had to work out, and it startled me. I remember looking down again, like I had in the car that one day, and I didn’t see a difference.

I really didn’t see it.
I’m still me.
Do I really look so different?
And, does it matter?

From the inside out, I still saw the same thing, the old me. What I saw didn’t match what the mirror and my husband and my friends saw.  I truly believe that had I not been on a program to help me regulate this, I could have easily slipped into the unhealthy pattern of losing too much.

The most telling part about my transformation were the people who hadn’t seen me in a while and the shocked looks on their faces. “But, we never saw you as having a weight problem. But, wow! Look at you!”

Maybe they were just being kind, or maybe they were telling the truth. Either way, it was true. I had lost the weight. I was healthier, and I was the same person but also completely different. I was still happy, but I felt a different type of happiness that I’d never felt before.

July 2003

July 2003

I’d made it to the top of the world, and I couldn’t believe it.

I was able to maintain my weight-loss right up until I got pregnant with Claire in 2005. I was actually really worried that I’d fret and stress about seeing the number on the scales go up, but thankfully, I was able to let that go and enjoy my pregnancy. (Well, as much as I could enjoy pregnancy…which is another story.) I gained the “appropriate” amount of weight according to my doctor, and I knew that I had the skills to get back to where I needed to be when I’d completed this portion of my new adventurous journey.

After having Claire, most of the pregnancy weight just fell right off. This is something nearly all new mothers hope will happen, and few experience.  But, that’s how it worked for me.  Claire was 8lbs 6oz, and I can only imagine that the rest of it was because I’d suffered such horrible morning sickness that the pregnancy gods decided to take pity on me. ;)

I didn’t want to take any chances with messing up my breast-feeding**, so I didn’t even worry about my weight until Claire was weaned a year later. **They say you can’t mess up breast-feeding by dieting, but I was too afraid to take the chance.

Now, here is where those die-hard WW people will probably be very disappointed with me, but I never went back to a WW meeting after having Claire. *gasp* I know, right!?  Well, you see…I knew what to do. I got out my journals, and my point counters, and I got myself back to where I needed to be without the meetings.

Shhhh. Don’t tell anyone.

Doing this meeting-less and WW-support-free doesn’t work for everyone, so if you’re struggling, by all means, go back to a meeting. I was prepared to go back if I had an issue, but it never came down to that.

Oddly enough, after pregnancy my body shifted and spread and became flabulous. Flab, though annoying, doesn’t weigh as much as muscle, so with the proper clothes, I looked like I was almost back to where I had been. I was *almost* at my goal weight but my desire to tone led me to the Shred.

February 2009

February 2009

As you’ve read about in that adventure, I’m still a work in progress, but all this is what I’m talking about when I say that I’ve already come a long way to get to this point.

And, I can’t wait to see where the path leads…because if I’ve learned anything from this whole experiene, it’s that the journey is far from over.