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.

Normalcy, parties and inspiration - 177

Well that just goes to show it's never really as bad as you think it is. I went to a WW meeting last week. I was dreading the scale. I was 179.4. YESSSSSSS! That's the right decade, and I had really worked at it so I was very happy (and surprised) to see the number. And then Saturday I stepped on my bathroom scale to see I was 177. Feeling like me again. Also feeling like I absolutely cannot skip my daily workouts, 6 out of 7 days. Like Nike says, I have to JUST DO IT. It's interesting, in the WW materials for their new program(s) rollout, there's a stat in there from the US Dept. of Health and Human Services that regular activity is the single best predictor for who will keep weight off after losing it. So that's pretty good motivation.

We went to a party last night at Sister's new place. I had 3 drinks in the 4 hours we were there. I honestly didn't eat a ton of food and I tracked it all, but still ended up spending 30 points (basically a day's worth) while there. I'm treating it like a dry run, like I did pretty well overall, and I know that I need about 30 points if I'm going to indulge. It was a very good baseline. The needle for a party can probably go up or down, but at least I have a starting point.

Toward the end of the night their old neighbors stopped by. They're super nice, and they had just gone on a date so they looked fantastic, both of them. As we were all talking I realized that she's my rabbit - like that's what I'm chasing. She looked great, just healthy and fit and a good medium build, and it was kind of inspiring to see her and think "wow, I'm on my way to looking like that." Don't get me wrong I am happy with how I look now, but it's good to know that I'm on the path. And I kind of want to give myself the present of the healthiest version of me by Christmas. So that's what I am going to do.

With that, I'm off to get my regular activity for the day. Oh yeah, I also got a bad haircut yesterday, which is disappointing. I will try to live with it for a week to see if it really is bad. If I'm not happy by next weekend, I'll give her a call to see what we can do.

On success, failure and 18X

I didn't want to post anything at all, because there is an 8 in the wrong place. And, I have no idea what the X is. 

But can I just for a minute say that I am super proud of myself. I am so grateful that I stood up and left my last job. I don't regret it one bit. And thank God for the terrible experience - truly, because it did make me stronger. Last week in my "new" job, I laid out the plan for a big initiative, and we pitched it to our VP. According to my boss and director, we got the best possible reaction from him. We have to run it by the partner groups involved, and then he'll take it to our CEO/CFO for approval. It's a million dollar project. My boss thanked me over and over for the great job, and made sure everyone knew I laid it out. I couldn't have done it without help. I did a lot of the work, yes, but I had a lot of help, too. That's why it was so good. And I am just so very grateful for the opportunity. This really is the hardest and best job I ever had. And six months in I'm starting to get it. I see what we need. I see where I can help. I see our strengths and weaknesses as a group, and my own strengths and weaknesses. This really was one of the best weeks of my working life, and I want to acknowledge it.

So, I am at least 5 lbs over goal. I don't want to face the scale. I don't want to work at it. But I don't want to let it go. I think I NEED to face the scale. I need to take it all in, head on. Which means, I'm gonna go look up a meeting right now.

Happy November. Here's to 17X by the end of it. 

the meaning of the universe - 17X

That's my age, today. And I'm somewhere in the neighborhood of 175 pounds. To be 100% honest there is zero chance of me stepping on the scale, as I had bbq ribs yesterday AND pizza and the number still does affect me - just not as much (and for not as long) as it used to. But 17X I am good with.

So. Let's talk about how awesome this body I've had for 42 years is.

- It has carried me up many mountain hikes, and then carried me safely back down.
- It has rowed me down rivers of beautiful fall foliage and across lakes all over the east coast.
- It has run countless 5Ks, 10Ks, 2 half marathons, and sprint and Olympic triathlons, and allowed me to completely enjoy the party that goes on during each race.
- It has transported me up the hill to visit the giant Buddha in Hong Kong.
- It has walked full days through all of the boroughs of New York, the landmarks in London, museums in Paris, the hills of San Francisco, up the Spanish Steps and all over the holy landmarks and gelaterias of Rome, and through the gleaming city streets of Chicago from dawn until 2AM.
- It has danced. Everywhere, and A LOT. Especially in my kitchen, these days.
- It has skied down and across so many snowy mountains.
- It has skipped through magical adventures at Disney World for days at a time.
- It has ridden a bike across the desert in New Mexico, up giant mountain passes, from town to town in Colorado, on rolling hills in Georgia, to work in multiple states, and all around Davis Island with very dear friends.

And for all that, my body deserves all the accolades I can possibly come up with, and I have nothing but gratitude for what it's done for me over the past 4 decades it could move on it's own. I want to continue being able to do all these things for the next 42 years. Happy birthday to this body, the house of my soul. :)

Let's be real for a moment | 175 (?)

I know I stepped on the scale this morning but I can't remember the number. And honestly, who cares, because my perfect-as-is body carried me over 2500 vertical feet (and 12 miles, round-trip) up a mountain pass this past weekend. We did THE wildflower walk up West Maroon Pass. It was glorious. The photo does it very little justice. But for some perspective, we started way back in the  bottom of the trees you can't even see from this viewpoint. This hike really is a long walk through a field of dreams.

I desperately needed something spectacular like this, as I have been slipping further and further into the Must Get Work Done trap. The work honeymoon IS OVER. This  job is certainly not what it was pitched to me as (and my friend has acknowledged that and apologized profusely for it, despite that not being his fault). So, that's the 'lets be real' piece. And without disclosing any details, let's just say I have had ample time to evaluate how the group operates, and I really don't think the environment resonates with how my soul thrives. But the wildflowers - OH! How those helped to give me some clarity on my next steps!

Funny thing about the hike - my limiting factor, physically, was my freaking toenails. I wanted to absolutely RIP THEM OFF during the last 2 miles. (We had to tack on an extra 2 miles each way, due to snowpack on the road to the trail - meaning our 8-ish mile roundtrip turned into a 12.5 miler.) I think my shoes are slightly too big, and I didn't have them laced tightly enough so on the downhills my toes just slammed into the front of the shoes. The pain was excruciating that last mile. I tried to focus on the pretty as I side stepped the downhills. There were some tears. I promised whichever toenails held out that I would give them a grand pedicure - so that's on the docket for tomorrow.

In any case, I did make it back to goal weight in July, and weighed in there again for August. Here it is almost September and I'm... just doing what I need to do to keep it here and keep it real for this last month of summer.

Love.Liz

healthy. 175.X

I can't remember the X. I think it was 2, but whatever. The scale is actually probably high because of my salty tomato sauce meal last night. I'd like to say the # does not affect me. But. I saw 173 on Thursday, and felt amazing. This morning I saw the 175 and I was all "Ok, no big deal" but then... I was snippy on my ride with Patrick (I'm exhausted, too). And I kept having debilitating thoughts, and I was crying at one point, because I'm sad. And I don't know what is wrong with me. My shoulder is PAINFUL. Like, a ripping ache at times that makes me think I'm going to pass out. Boo.

And then (this is TMI but whatever) the bleedy thing - it doesn't stop. And I'm totally worried I have some kind of major issue, like uterine cancer or something. Like, what if I go in on Wednesday and they say holy shit, you're coming in for surgery on Friday. But, honestly, SO WHAT if "what if?" I mean, it will get fixed. Life will move on.

I hope.

I do like my new job, but I'm also very overwhelmed in it. I'm working all the time, I feel like I'm never going to catch up, I feel like I made a huge mistake, but then no I didn't, I don't know. $$ is good. I am happy with what I'm doing, but it's really freaking difficult. I solve one problem and three more pop up. I feel like I'm playing whack-a-mole, and the moles are winning. Gah.

So.

The good news is, I've lost at least 5 pounds since starting. I kind of want to really get in great shape. I just started lifting heavy - literally, I'm one workout in to that. I'm cutting out crap, little by little. Last week I ate a bunch of cake because I failed, or I felt like a failure. So there are still some things I have to work through, or that will just be with me. On the other hand, that cake was freaking DELICIOUS and TOTALLY WORTH EATING! And I didn't eat a whole cake. I didn't throw in the towel for the weekend. I just... corrected myself. And I'm at my goal weight and working toward being more fit. There's a woman on WW Connect, she is so inspiring - she's a few years older than I am. So, I could totally be like her (but me :) ) in a year. She completely changed her body. I kind of want to do that, too. I'm actually really proud of myself for not letting my job take over my health. Win.

Happy summer, friends.

it's time - 180.6

It's time to just get it done. I'm on my way. Scale is - obviously - up, but that just means I'm 180.6 pounds of awesome. Right? Right!

Speaking of awesome, New Job is AWESOME. I love my group. I genuinely like what I do. I'm good at it. I'm valued. One guy said he used to dread coming in to work, but his outlook has really turned around since I've been there. Ha, seeing that typed is surreal... so please, allow me to LET THAT SINK IN. *That* is what I do. That is the effect I have on others. THAT. And it is all the reward I need.

Yesterday DH and I did a ride up in Boulder. It was SO HARD. But guess what, 30 miles, we did it, and I'm not sore today, and I feel like YES I can do the MS Ride at the end of June. Muscle memory is a thing. Oh, and more muscle memory - while I do love New Job, it's terrifying and there is a lot and it's overwhelming and... and... and... it's funny how much I forgot but it's also amazing HOW MUCH I REMEMBER. More muscle memory. But yes, back to the bike ride. We did a computrainer ride on Thursday, which basically just scared the crap out of me that I will never ever be in shape to do the MS Ride, and then honestly the first five miles of yesterday's bike ride pretty much confirmed that... and then I was warmed up and it was ok. And then we finished the ride and I was like "Yep, I'm good to go!" Doesn't mean I won't be doing quite a few training rides between now and June 27th.

I'm having fits over which way I should track - WW, or calories/macros. I know the real answer is, it doesn't matter, because I have to change how I'm doing things. WHAT I am tracking is way more important than HOW. I'm working on that, and the progress is slow, but it's progress. I have all kinds of goals - to be at goal by Memorial Day (nope) to be in the 160s for the ride in June (uhhh probably nope) but the reality is, I'm fine where I am, I'm working toward it, I'm doing the best I can and I honestly really like ME just as I am. So yes, if I want to get a little thinner, ok, but I'm also good RIGHT HERE. Except it would be really nice not to pay $45/month for WW. So maybe we can at least get rid of the four pounds so that it's free again. But there's no expiration date on that goal. I'll just work toward it, and it will happen.

Happy Sunday, friends. Oh, happy Mother's Day. Just take it as a wish for a nice day. :)

Love.Liz