when I eat raw veggies, my stomach sounds like Treebeard<\/a>. Instead, I’ve stuck to 1200-1400 calorie count a day. I’ve been Ms Portion Control – I do<\/i> eat spaghetti, but I don’t each much of it. Instead of thinking, “I’ll never be able to eat potatoes again”, I plan a fantastic supper absolutely celebrating potatoes, and lovingly prepare them – and eat half a serving if I had more than a salad or Glucerna for lunch. Breakfast is just coffee, and I’ll switch back to cereal eventually – just not now. I still ate two, Christmas cookies or a piece of chocolate every night<\/i> in December and every month since then, and if that kept me from losing weight more quickly FUCK IT because cookies are DELICIOUS. And I have a cheat day once a week where I get to eat up to 1800 calories. Those cheat days are great days… no, seriously, they are fantastic. I am so happy after them. Food makes me feel whole. I don’t mean gorging myself – I’m not a binge eater. I mean just having a simple, delicious meal. But I can’t eat like other people – like my Mom, who can eat everything I do and stay oh-so- fit and trim. Or like most of my friends, who can eat two or three meals a day. I can’t do that without gaining weight. So I’m accepting the reality that I cannot eat three meals a day, that I cannot eat until I’m full – I have to pick an amount, put it on my plate, and that’s IT.<\/p>\nI didn’t gain weight over the holidays. I consider that a major victory.<\/p>\n
Also, I hate working out. I love walking and hiking, but actual working out – zumba, spinning classes, weights, whatever – I hate it. No exercise makes me feel even a quarter as good like a warm bowl of mac and cheese for lunch on an empty stomach does. Exercise makes me feel fat and frustrated and ugly.<\/p>\n
After the first 30 pounds were gone, I still didn’t look much different and I was still obese, but I felt more comfortable bending over to put on my motorcycle boots and riding my motorcycle. I lead an all-day workshop and stood for the entire seven hours, except for lunch – I never could have done that without losing those 30 pounds. There are some clothes I could wear that I hadn’t able to wear in two or three years. Finally, losing weight gave me a tangible benefit. But just one person remarked that she thought I had lost weight without me mentioning anything first – no one else noticed. And 30 pounds wasn’t even halfway to my ultimate goal. That all made it even more difficult to stay motivated. I backslid by three pounds at one point, and cried a LOT, and felt like giving up. Every pound lost is a week of work – although some weeks I get lucky and lose 1.5 pounds. Some weeks, I’ve lost nothing. I’m two months off where I thought I would be.<\/p>\n
Even losing 10 more pounds – more than 40 pounds (18 kg) altogether – people still don’t notice. And that’s… frustrating.<\/p>\n
The biggest benefit of losing 40+ pounds and not being obese anymore is still how I feel – I do feel a lot<\/i> better. I feel better sitting. I feel better rolling over in bed at night. It’s going to be great to go camping and not feel like I have weights strapped to my body when I try to get up.<\/p>\n
I also LOVE how many clothes I can wear now. I’ve missed so many of my skirts and pants and dresses. I’m so happy to have them “back.”<\/p>\n
If I lose 15 more pounds, I’ll be the weight I was when Stefan met me in Ireland. But I need to lose 25 more pounds just to not<\/i> be overweight by ONE pound – and even then, I won’t be at what’s considered my ideal weight, which would be ANOTHER 15 pounds. But, no, I’m not even going to try to lose another 40 pounds. Or 25. Because that would require both surgery and a professional trainer and someone preparing absolutely every meal. Even if I had all the money for that, I’d prefer to spend it on a facelift and a trip to Kenya.<\/p>\n
I’ll be happy with losing just another 15 pounds. I’ll still be overweight, but back to the weight of my 30s. I’ll take it.<\/p>\n
I hope I can stick with this calorie count for the rest of my life. Well, until I’m 70 or so. Then, screw it. As of 70, no more calorie counting. No more coloring my hair. I may even take up smoking. Until then… yeah, I think I can do this. I certainly should do this.<\/p>\n
Not that anyone reads my blogs… but if you do, and you are overweight, even obese, please, please don’t see any of this as my judgment on how I view you, or would view you if I knew you. I would be sad if anyone read this as body shaming. I know how many things – family demands, work demands, stress, illness, age and emotions – can affect efforts to be active and healthy and to get enough sleep at night. And I am only too aware of how DNA affects one’s ability to lose weight or maintain a healthy weight: I believe you when you say that (like I said, my mother can eat all that I do and never gain a pound. It’s infuriating – but it’s the results of my genetic lottery, and I accept it). I will say that, no matter who you are, no matter what your weight, you should make a point to walk every day for at least a mile – for your mental health as much as physical. And go for a walk in a green space at least twice a month – more often, if you can. And when you do those things, do not give a rat’s ass how you look or what people might be thinking about how you look – just walk. Body acceptance is important, absolutely – but if you are obese, consider making changes. If I can do this, you can do.<\/p>\n
I know I’m going to struggle with my weight for the rest of my life – and if I backslide too much, I’ll probably delete this blog out of shame. But for now, I’m celebrating. But not with cake… well, not a LOT of cake…<\/p>\n
Take care of yourselves, folks.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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