I really pushed too hard today. I got to 45 minutes on the arc trainer, and came scary close to passing out. I knew I had overdone it the second I stepped onto the spinning floor under the machine. I’m so tired, too. This is hard work. Hopefully, very soon, I’ll get to my 60 minute goal. I’m thinking by the end of this month is reasonable. We’ll see!
So, I worked out my arms today for the second time. When I’m not wearing my arm spanx (yes, that’s a thing. It’s basically tiny pantyhose for your arms.) my arm skin is pretty bad. It seems to be the only part I can’t hide all the time. It’s gonna be an adventure this summer wearing compression garments and short sleeves in the Texas heat. Anyway, I worked out my arms. It su-u-uked! I’m really not strong. It’s really sad. And tonight, I feel like my arms need to be amputated and I’m gonna have to learn to eat with my feet.
I’m starting to almost enjoy cardio, though. I got up to 38 minutes on the elliptical this morning. I’m really cruising.
I’m also figuring out how much liquid I need with the additional sweating. Getting enough fluids is very challenging after weight loss surgery. They tell you that when you go through all the classes before surgery, but you can’t fully grasp the magnitude of it. Since my stomach only holds about 6 ounces, I have to drink some, then wait 10-15 minutes to drink 6 ounces more. It’s kind of a drag. If I’ve stretched my pouch, it’s been trying to drink water that has done it. I don’t think I have. I remember my stomach is small when I eat, but drinking water is so basic, that there have been several times I’ve forgotten to count my sips (yes, I have to count!) and ended up really sorry for my sins. I’ve only done it a handful of times in almost nine months, but it’s a really terrible thing to forget. I’m feeling somewhat dehydrated today, so I’m trying really hard to increase my water intake. It’s tough and a constant effort.
I feel like my body is changing, and I’m happy about it. I’ve not been strong in a long time, and I’m looking forward to being strong again. It’s hard to describe the transition my body has made from where I was a few years ago.
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.
I’m more than half way through my weight loss journey, and I’ve been carefully asked by a few people about skin. When you lose 100 pounds in 6 months, there’s really no way around it. It’s an issue. I’ve been overweight a long time. I fully expected it, but didn’t know how I would feel about it. And the truth is, it bothers me. But so far, it doesn’t bother me as much as being big.
1. I can wear cute clothes.
2. Compression garments are not that bad. (I don’t get hot in them like I expected to. However, I haven’t done it in a Texas summer. I reserve the right to complain about that later.)
The area that bothers me the most is my upper arms. I have been using dumbbells the last few weeks to try to help them.
Side note: I bought a set of dumbbells from Walmart that came with 3 sizes, 5 pounds, 3 pounds, and 2 pounds. When I ordered them I thought that I was probably making a mistake not getting the ones that had the heavier weights. NOPE!!! Fun fact. I use the 2 pound weights and wonder if there is a 1 pound weight I should buy while I’m using them. Weak. Lol!
But overall, I’m trying to do everything I can to avoid skin surgery, but I’m accepting that I probably will need full lower skin surgery and a breast reduction when this is all over. And if that time comes, I will be okay with it.
I’m proud of what my body is doing. It has energy and less pain and is getting stronger every day. My body is healing and beginning to give me a better life. I am very proud of my body.
I think I’m beginning to forgive it for betraying me and not giving me a baby. I’m beginning to see that God really wanted to fix something that was taking far more than parenthood from me, but was robbing me of my life. Like a good Father, he knew I needed this more than a baby. He loved me enough to break my heart so he could save my life.
Someone posted the picture on the left from a birthday party I attended in January of 2017. 130 pounds lost.
The dress I was wearing was a 4x which is like a size 26 or 28. I’m currently in a size 16.
I’ve hit a major plateau lately, not really seeing much activity on the scales. I have been having a rough time in life lately, having lost my job in November. Also, it’s common to have weight loss slow down at the 6 month point. I’m trying not to worry too much.
I didn’t like my job, but I wish I could have left on my own terms. It’s scary to not have insurance coverage after a gastric bypass. Terrifying, if I’m being honest. I had to cancel my 6 month follow up with my surgeon and the corresponding blood work.
I have struggled taking vitamins due to nausea for as long as I can remember, long before my surgery. I’ve recently abandoned the bariatric vitamins for regular people vitamins in hopes that something is better than nothing. We’ll see how that goes.
I’ve been working on a big writing project that is taking up a lot of my writing mojo, so I’ve really neglected this blog.
Zeke is doing great! He’s really growing up now that he’s officially a grownup pup. He’ll always be my baby, but he’s much better behaved now. Kind of sad, but good at the same time.
Not my best picture. Lying down, no makeup, hair a mess, but my baby loving me.
I’ve been meaning to update a few things.
1.) I reached 100 pounds weight loss last week! I’m still losing 3-5 pounds a week most weeks.
2.) On Sunday, Zeke will have been my baby for a whole year! This makes me very emotional, because he’s been exactly what I needed this past year. I love him so much.
First picture February 27, 2017.
Second picture October 19, 2017.
This is the first side by side picture that hasn’t made me cry in disappointment. I looked at previous pictures, and I couldn’t tell a real difference. It was heartbreaking. This time, I’m fighting off the tears today, because I’m starting to feel like it’s making a real difference.
It’s weird what has happened in my brain in this process. It’s like a weird kind of self defeating denial.
I weigh myself, and I don’t believe the numbers are really changing.
I put on my clothes, and my first thought is that they got stretched out in the wash.
I try on clothes at the store, and I think they are missized.
People complement me, and I think they are being overly generous, if not lying to me.
I have to talk myself into believing that I’m having success. That this is going to work. That I’m not failing. That it’s okay to celebrate the victories. That I’m not going to jinx it by acknowledging what’s happening.
94 pounds is significant, because today I weigh 300 pounds even. I started this journey at 394 pounds. Next time I weigh, I will likely be in the 200s. I hope to get down to 180 as a goal, but that still feels so far away.
Holy Hair Loss, Batman!
So, it’s been going on a few weeks now, but I’m starting to get a little concerned. I have pretty thick hair generally, and it is probably the thinnest I remember it being. I’m probably going to have to remove the drain cover and snake the pipe in my shower, because it’s more than Drano can really handle.
I’m still good on hair, but I may or may not have saved a cancer turban on my Amazon cart just in case. I think I can pull it off. I’ve started worrying about it.
It’s really weird how insecure and self critical I have been about my body in this weight loss process. I would even say possibly obsessive. I know it’s just part of the process, but I guess I thought because I’ve worked so hard throughout my life to combat a negative self image that I wouldn’t struggle so much. Not true.
So now I’m obsessed with my hair, which might take the focus off my loose skin issues. I feel like my skin is actually doing pretty well with the use of compression garments, but it’s just not keeping up with the weight loss. I’m hopeful, though.
I hope this hair loss is very temporary, though. Dr Google says it’s usually only about 5-15% of your hair. It seems like alot, though. Maybe I’m just crazy…
Today, I hit 89 pounds lost. I’m losing about 3 to 5 pounds a week right now, so I’m hoping to cross two major thresholds in the next two to three weeks. I’m going to get out of the 300s club, and I’m going to reach 100 pounds lost. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around it.
I’m wearing brand new size 1x (14/16) shirts and last night I bought size 22 blue jeans. (Baby got back!) I was wearing 4-5x shirts and very tight size 28 jeans.
Last week, I did my yearly biometric screening for work, which if I pass 3 out of 5 elements, saves me $25 a pay period on my health insurance premiums. I have worked here 5 years on November 5th, and I have never passed even one of the requirements. I passed only the glucose, which is huge since I’ve been prediabetic since my mid twenties, but was very close on the blood pressure and the cholesterol and my waist size is 8 inches smaller than last year.
This process is much more emotional than I ever would have thought. Without the surgery to help me, I would have not been able to push through the really hard days I’ve had in this process.
I believe we have an enemy of our souls, who seeks to devour and make us fail in breaking the chains of sin and addiction and depression and anxiety over our lives. I’ve had every possible stumbling block thrown in front of my feet the past 4 months, and have lost what I denied previously to be my coping tool. It’s been really a difficult time.
In the midst of all these trials, I’ve become very thankful for this surgery. I don’t have the option of quitting. My body won’t let me quit. So I am staying on track.
The last few weeks have been pretty fun. I’m not really sure what a birthday is, but I’ve had two of them in the last few weeks. The best thing I can think of about having a birthday is CAKE! Mommie gave me a birthday first, then a few days ago, Daddy gave me one.
Daddy gave me a cake that was on fire, and that was pretty cool. Apparently, you’re not supposed to lick the side of the cake while it’s on fire. I got in trouble for that. Tasted good, though. I only got a few licks in, then a bite or two later. It was so much more exciting when it was on fire.
People food is my favorite. I definitely get more of it since Mommie had surgery. Me and Bridget both know that Mommie is the one to sit by at dinner. She says we’re not supposed to eat people food, since we’re not people. But how will I ever become people if I don’t eat people food. I’m convinced that if I could eat just people food, I could grow as big as Daddy in no time. They only let me have a bite here and there, though.
I’m learning to be really fast, but I haven’t quite mastered stealing people food off their plates. Their blocking skills are pretty advanced, and I’m kind of clumsy. My clumsiness is more when I’m excited, too.
I think by now my readers know I’m a pretty unruly puppy. Mommie and Daddy act tough, but they are really softies when it comes to me. I’m pretty much in charge.
Next month will be a year since I got adopted. I wonder if we’ll have another party? It’s also a year since I started blogging. I’m a pretty big deal, Mommie says.