I’ve pretty much stopped losing from the surgery, which is expected at some point about now. I’ll be nine months out in the next few weeks, and I’m 8 pounds from the 70% of weight loss goal. Everything I read says that is about when you are on your own.
Weight lost: 147 pounds.
BMI Has gone from 58 to 36.
Clothing size 28-30 and 5X to 14-16 and XL
Good times! If I don’t lose any more, I’m not disappointed. I’m able to be active and wear cute clothes. I’m very average sized. My curves are cute. I don’t mind getting my picture taken.
But I don’t think I’m done yet. So I joined a gym to start the next phase of this process. I’m not ready to stop this process. And I think it will make good blogging and inspire me to write.
I feel like I know nothing, so it will probably be entertaining. I also mostly hate it, so I can see myself getting pretty snarky about it.
* I joined the gym on March 6th, and I’ve only missed 2 days.
* I’m pretty much useless after I work out, so I do it first thing in the day. Seems reasonable.
* I’m sore all the time. I feel like I traded one kind of pain (from being overweight) to another kind of pain. I do admit that I prefer the post workout pain.
* I feel pretty dumb. I don’t really know how to use anything but the cardio equipment. A few days ago, I was going to branch out and use what I think was an arm machine, only because my legs don’t go up that high. It was some kind of pulley thing with the plates that you can decide how many you need. I decided that one plate (10 pounds) seemed a little wimpy for someone who used to carry around almost 400 pounds of human flesh, so I decided 2 plates was embarrassing but respectable to start with for each arm. I pulled the thing down twice and it almost popped me in the face, so I quit.
* I decided after research that the elliptical or arc trainer was the holy grail of cardio, and that I needed to do an hour so I could burn like 500 calories. The first day, I was able to do 5ish minutes. I stepped off of the thing sweating and shaking and with spaghetti legs. I’ve built up a few minutes a day, and today I did 25 minutes.
* I attempted to ride the exercise bikes, but my tailbone hates both the recumbent and regular stationary bike, so we’re not gonna do that.
* I’ve always been afraid of the treadmill. I’ve always felt like my life was in danger on a treadmill. I never knew if I just couldn’t walk in a straight line, or if my feet were on backwards or what. In my treadmill related nightmares, there’s blood and chipped teeth, flipping and screaming, and a finish of being sucked under the machine and dismemberment. I learned something, though, when I decided to try it again. Now that I don’t have so much fat in my inner thighs, my gate is narrow enough to not have any problem staying on the belt. It’s a whole new game! I do hold on to the rail thing every step and to avoid the hideous accidental death I described above, and I’m not sure I’ll ever run unless I’m being chased. But I have a mutually respectful, borderline, but not overly fearful relationship with treadmills. I may never jump from a plane or climb a ladder, but I can do the treadmill.
So, that’s the skinny on this fat girl’s journey to healthy.