apres fall - 182.2

So the belief is there. The workouts are there. But so was an upgrade project for work, a vacation, a... yeah. And it's still Covid. I did, however, make the stellar choice to skip points counting and do calories instead, as I know I will game the zero-point foods so I can eat Christmas cookies. 

We are now in a second round of lockdown, which came right as I was getting my gym groove back. Alrighty! The good thing is that gyms are not completely closed, but capacity is greatly diminished and there are all sorts of protocols in place. I actually really like this, as we have to make a reservation so it's never crowded, I get in, get the workout done, wash my hands and get out. Yippee. 

Oh yes we got a second doggie. She's a rescue and is full of issues but we love her and she's ours now. She's happy here. Her brother, not so much, but he's tolerating her better than he initially was. It's been a big and sometimes difficult adjustment for all of us. But, we're working it out, and there is a lot of extra activity. Hazzah.

Work is better, then worse. I wanted to get them through the upgrade, so I did. Then I got put on another project, which I knew was coming, but I don't want that. I also don't want to be on ANOTHER project I got put on to lead. So. Lots of fun, I'm having over here. My new boss really is great. And now everyone knows I'm the one with the answers. But I can't be the leader and do my day-to-day. I've set some boundaries and am clear in them, and am clear enough with ME, too. 

Ooh, and in fun news, I got an erg. So did sister, we independently ordered them the same week and were put on the wait list, and they were delivered to us on the SAME DAY. YES!!!! Tomorrow is my first erg workout AT HOME - yeh!!

So, that was the fall. And now Christmas is in, like 2 weeks. YIKES time is flying.

belief - 174.2

Weight loss success begins with the belief you can do it. I follow some women on WW media, they are a few years older than I am, and they look amazing. And honestly, if they can, WHY NOT ME?

DH took a pic of me at the top of Waterton Canyon a couple weeks ago. While I haven't gained weight during Covid, my body compostion has changed. The pic sparked me to start the Outside Magazine Shape of Your Life program. If you have been out of any routine or just want to get started, this is the workout plan for you. I forgot how informational the articles are, too. In any case, I'm 2 weeks in, my LT is 164 as of the test on Friday, and I feel so much better just taking small steps toward healthier me.

In other news, somehow I'm hanging in there at work. New boss is fine, he seems like a nice guy. I know the right answer, though, is to go. For whatever reason, I am conflicted about DOING that. But, THE STRESS. I really don't want this. I just don't know how to bow out gracefully.

It's ten million degrees outside. Today's activities were biking to breakfast that did not work out, but the dog had a total meltdown... then driving to a GREAT breakfast. Then washing the car, it was only 8.5 million degrees then and there was water involved...

I need to get my act together for the things I WANT to do. But at least now I totally believe I'm going to lose the weight and look amazing. I am going to do the things I need to do, follow the fitness plan, stick to the food plan, and WATCH MYSELF CHANGE.

August in Fires and COVID - 177.6

 Everything is on fire. Literally. California and Colorado are burning. There is so much smoke and bad air. And everything is just HARD.

On the other hand, I am exceptionally good at maintaining my 177 pounds. I started this blog a million years ago, wanting to lose 20 pounds, and here I am, exactly at the same place. At least I'm not gaining. 

My job is too demanding and I'm having a very hard time managing it. I get a new boss on Monday. And yet.

I'm too tired to write any more, but I just wanted to check in and here I see I'm Super Star Maintainer. At this point, I'll take it.

forward - 177.6

I think it starts with whatever happened last time I wrote. You hit the wall. You and your broken heart fall all the way down. And you look at it. You feel it. You see you as YOU, as a person just as you see others. You have compassion, and if you can't have compassion for others you aren't going to have it for yourself, either.

The thing that has changed the most for me over time is how much compassion I have for OTHER PEOPLE and how much less I JUDGE OTHER PEOPLE. Because how I treat them, I treat myself. And how I treat myself, so I treat them. What if this is all really about just being a better person, to everyone? Like, if you can just love everyone, and let go of the stress and the ego, then maybe you can just... evolve in every possible way? Spiritually, mentally and phyiscally.

AND THERE IT IS. We are all connected. I can feel it, I know this. But I think I never put it together like that.

Since my last post, I've just carried on toward the good. I apologized again to DH, not in a fit of tears or despair like the night that all happened. But the next day, I told him, matter-of-fact, that I am surprised this is still an issue with me and that I will continue to work on it, and that I'm happy I was able to see what it was pretty immediately rather than let it go into a week-long spiral of 'why doesn't he love or support me?' and the subsequent list of reasons why I wouldn't deserve it if he did. Toxic, toxic thoughts that I was able to work through and push away in an evening, not in a week, or more. I'm proud of my progress, there.

I had a hard week at work - they're all hard weeks - but good, too. My job is difficult to manage, and I certainly don't like the level of stress that comes with it. But I didn't eat or drink too much to cope with it at all last week. However, I am also kind of tired of having a job that makes it difficult to manage my mental state. Like, I am tapped out and exhausted and thinking of only how I can do what I do BETTER. (Which, actually is a positive sign that I really do enjoy what I'm doing.) But the stress is hard, the mental toll is hard and I am left with very little energy for anything else. And that's what I'm having the most difficult time with in this weird coronavirus patch of existence. I lashed out at my sister because I let my work stress get the better of me - I just took it out on her. I apologized to her immediately and she was gracious. But this is a sign, for me, that something must change.

In any case, this week I'm down 2 pounds. I am changing my eating to move from sugar/alcohol in general. Not to cut it completely, but definitely moderate. I do work it in now, but with the virus, I just think it's probably better to make sure I am filling my body with the best possible nutrients. Some of which can certainly be found in wine, of course. But overall, just... healthier foods. I switched to following the "Purple" plan in WW. I haven't tracked there, free foods and portions have historically been a challenge for me, but I'm 2 days into this and am cautiously optimistic as I really like my food choices. It's hard not to just go for some jellybeans but I'm trying to take the long view. With everything. But this time with WW, I think I have a different approach. Like, an "I want to, and I CAN." And so, there I go. Forward.

unpacking - 179.6

Funny I can't believe it's been nearly 6 months since I posted, but given what's gone on these past 6 months, well, I totally get how I haven't been back here. Right now we're all in coronavirus lockdown. It's been an interesting adaptation to life, and now that we're a month in I can say I am determined NOT to get, or GAIN, the Covid-19. But that's a whole 'nother post. So let's get to this one, shall we?

UNPACKING. The emotional kind - all that baggage and boxes of whatever that has been slowing me down or suppressing my potential, the stuff I've been carrying around in my mind since, well, forever. I honestly thought I had done a pretty good job of working through it, really digging in and doing the work. I had a great therapist help, I sought out ways of letting go, and actually went through unpacking the mess and working through it and either tossing it or putting it away in a much more manageable way so that I can carry on with my life. For the most part, it is true that I did do a good job with this, and that's an important acknowledgement. But last night I got quite the surprise that I am still dragging a big heavy box with me.

DH ordered an entrée from our favorite Italian place, a takeout meal for us to split. One meal, two people. I put it all out a nice dish, divided in two, and we sat down at the table. I took my half and put it on my plate, and DH then divided what was left into two parts and put one of the parts on his plate. The entire entrée portion was definitely a two-person portion, but not a four-person portion. Or, that's what I thought. I looked down at my plate. My half-entrée looked like a normal portion of food, but watching DH take only half of what I had taken, well, no wonder I'm fat.

But I reasoned with myself. 'Liz, this is a NORMAL portion of food, and his is small, he's just eaten two granola bars, nuts and a banana, so don't worry. What you are eating is within your calories for the day. What he is eating is his choice. Now, bon Appetit.'

And I really, really tried to make that little voice of reason stick, as I wolfed down my delicious dinner. I was STARVING. I could have eaten the entire portion, and I said that out loud. And DH said "Well you ran this morning, no wonder you're hungry." So then I said "Are you going to eat the other half of yours?" and he said, "No, I just need half, it's a big piece."

My heart sank straight down through the floor and into the basement, as all of the air sucked out of the room. NO WONDER I'M FAT.

I pushed my chair from the table as I stood and picked up my empty plate, then dropped it into the kitchen sink on my way straight down the stairs. I thought I'd be able to pick up my broken heart, but instead I flopped down in the bean bag chair, me, my tears and soon the doggie. DH did nothing wrong, and here I was crying after what was supposed to be a nice fun quarantine date.

When he said what a big piece that was, it sparked the memory of every meal with my family telling me that I eat too much, no wonder I'm fat. And he did nothing of the sort, my feelings were not his fault at all. To him, he'd already eaten two granola bars, a banana and some nuts, so the dinner really was big for him. And I knew mine was a normal portion, a split entrée, and I had plenty of calories left for the day since I'd planned it in. Yet here I was, sobbing in the basement while my sweet doggie pawed at me and told me in his silent doggie way that he loved me no matter what, and that he didn't want me to be sad. I didn't want to be sad either. I told him I'd take him for a walk.

DH came downstairs to ask what was wrong. I told him it was nothing he had done, and I was sorry but every time someone said something like he did, when I was a kid, that the next line was "No wonder you're fat." I told him I know that's my problem, he didn't do anything wrong, and I was sorry I wasn't past that. I told him I wanted to go for a walk and I'd take the dog. I tried to give the doggie ear drops before we left, but he wasn't having it and I didn't have the patience, so I just left. And I walked around my neighborhood, 2 miles in the dark, by myself. No phone, no ID, no nothing. Just me and my jacket and my broken heart.

I truly wish this were not still a thing with me - that there wasn't this food shame that just shows up and wrecks nice nights. I don't know how to unpack this bag. I walked around with it last night and cried about it outside, in the middle of my city neighborhood where absolutely no one else was walking and where if anything had happened to me, there would be no way to ID my body and DH would have to call the morgues to find me. I was utterly alone, and I was happy for it.

I know that I need to love myself before anyone else can. I know I need to find out how to unpack this, but I just don't know how to do that. I thought I had done it, but clearly it is still with me. I have nightmares where my nephew says he doesn't want to hang out with me because I'm fat, where my brother says he doesn't want me to come on the boat because I'm fat, where I'm invited to a boat picnic and my sister-in-law shows up all tanned and chiseled and topless with her perfect body and her two kids (that I never got to have, because I'm fat) on her hip, and everyone pretends it's ok that I'm there too because I'm the sister so even though I'm fat they make an exception. How the hell do you get rid of this stuff that shows up LIKE THIS in your subconscious?

I don't know. But I can be aware of it and not stuff it down with food or alcohol. I'm happy I walked last night and cried my heart out about it all along 17th Avenue Parkway. I'm happy that I came back and made myself *A* bourbon drink, as I had planned, as was in my calories for the day. I'm happy that I was able to say to DH this morning that I was sorry I had ruined our nice night, and that I am sorry I still don't know how to get past this thing.

So there it is. I can see it. I can see I need to unpack it. And I can see that I don't know how. But on the bright side, I do love a challenge. So. Here we go.