Monday, August 27, 2007
It has been exactly 8 months since I began my new life as a fit person. What an anniversary this is! Here is my progress report:
... and down 5 (or 6) sizes.
Happy Anniversary to me! I'm taking the day off from work.
I am going to celebrate with a whole day of healthy eating and physical exercise.
And if that doesn't sound like a reward to you, well, what can I say? Maybe you're on a different path!
Best wishes, NB
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
As sure as there's a sun in the sky, I am DONE with being obese.
All day long, my mind wanders back to how and when I will fit in my exercise that day. When I go out to lunch or dinner with other people, I wonder out loud what would be the healthiest thing on the menu. When I want a snack away from home, I choose fresh fruit and raw nuts from the local market, instead of Doritos from 7-Eleven.
When my out of town meeting was over, I jogged to my car... uphill. I keep a heavy dumbell under my desk, at my feet, so I can do some reps whenever the mood strikes me.
I am so done with obesity it's hard for me to comprehend that I'm still obese, let alone that I weighed 330 lbs just 8 months ago. I have no idea who that person was who hijacked my body for all those years!
That life is OVER. I am a fit person now, in mind, in heart, and in deed; and soon my body will prove it. I look more like a fit person every day.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Last week I was having a conversation with a customer... one of the few customers brave enough to venture into the nursery on a brutally hot, humid day. The heat index was over 100 degrees, and I was pruning and watering plants, avoiding direct sunlight where ever possible, and gulping liter upon liter of water.
I thought the conversation was going quite well, progressing from landscape plants, to climate zones, to where we lived, and where we grew up, to how else we spent our time when we weren't gardening. The chit-chat moved toward staying comfortable outdoors in high heat and humidity. Specifically, what to wear.
I was wearing gleaming new sneakers. She looked at them. The conversation took an unfortunate turn.
"Oh my GOD, I hope you're seeing a doctor about that water retention! That is REALLY bad! Oh, honey, that is SERIOUS!"
She had noticed my ankles.
Now, even if I was suffering from severe fluid retention, which I am not, I would have been taken aback. She was little more than a stranger to me, but I'd let my guard down and conversed with her; and now she was diagnosing my hidden medical conditions. Loudly.
She made no effort whatsoever to disguise or minimize her shock at my appearance. My ankles were ghastly. They were horribly swollen. She really drove the point home.
I was stunned.
I am well aware of what my legs look like. They’re fat. I store much more fat in my legs than the average person does. It is one of the genetic gifts my sister and I received from our ancestors. My sister isn’t even fat, but has this bizarre build as well.
Even when I’m wearing long pants, there is no hiding the girth of my thighs. Wearing anything above the knee is out of the question, as far as I’m concerned. It is the whole reason I suffer through summer in jeans, while everyone around me wears shorts. My legs look unusual, distorted, even freakish; I *know* this, and I know that anyone seeing them may be shocked, but they probably would not say anything about it. I keep them hidden to avoid personal trauma. However, having recently lost 87 pounds and many inches off my legs, I’d just purchased shorts. The first shorts in decades. Shorts that were long enough to cover my knees, because that is all I dare reveal. Well, somebody noticed all right.
I offered, quietly, that I was not retaining fluid, but had fat legs. She shook her head, and POINTED at my ankles, noting the way my ankle socks peeked above my shoes just high enough to cut into the fat, accentuating it; and she went on and on about it.
I persisted. She insisted.
She completely overlooked the fact that so much water was leaving my body, so fast, that I was literally dripping sweat. It was rolling off of my nose and chin and soaking the front of my shirt. I kid you not. I was still holding my water bottle.
Finally, after an eternity, she left; still dismayed that I refused to accept her diagnosis of edema… I don’t know, maybe she thought I had congestive heart failure and she was trying to save my life. I walked, in disbelief, into the office for more water. I sat in the air conditioning for about 30 minutes, feeling shell shocked and humiliated, until I was sure she’d left the nursery.
A few days ago, after mowing the lawn, cutting the hedges, and otherwise getting filthy, I showered, changed, and headed to work with my hair still damp. I grabbed my ponytail elastics and my hat on my way out the door.
When I walked into the office, one of my coworkers said “Wow, you look REALLY PRETTY with your hair down. You should wear it like that all the time.” I gave her a look, as if to say ‘you're nuts, it’s 99 degrees out there’, and she added, “I mean it… you look TOTALLY DIFFERENT”.
Can I go home now?
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Last night after my workout, my husband and I made a late trip to Home Depot. We'd just had a kitchen brainstorming session (we'll need to set up a temporary kitchen somewhere else in the house while the remodeling progresses). While we were there, we split up to look at different areas of the store. Walking past the paint department, I caught glimpse of someone I knew, whom I hadn't spoken to in ten years.
Now, I have SEEN this guy around town, he has a sort of "public" job; but he hasn't seen me. Every time I saw him, he seemed as if he'd put on more weight. Not this time. He looked thinner... much thinner. I actually did a double take. While he still has lots of weight to lose, his loss, so far, was clearly very substantial.
I walked over and gave him a friendly hug. We started chatting about what we'd been doing the past ten years, but within moments he started talking about his weight loss with great pride. I kept silent while he talked about his low point, and how he finally took control of his health. Losing weight was quite obviously the biggest, most exciting thing that had happened in his life in the past ten years. I smiled as I listened, because I understand exactly how he feels. I patiently waited for my turn, to talk about my own weight loss.
He went on for a couple of minutes before he caught himself, then he paused, smiled, and put one hand on my shoulder. He momentarily oogled my spandex clad body and leered, "YOU haven't changed a BIT!" Suddenly, I had nothing to talk about. I just smiled and laughed... and let him go on about how great I looked, while my mind pieced together the fact that the last time he saw me, I was exactly the same size as I am today. I also realized that I was sucking in my gut as hard as I could.
I have officially past the anxiety point of running into people who knew me before I was 300 pounds. I no longer have to avoid them (a year ago I would have gone outside to hide in the car). He didn't know anything about my journey, and I never mentioned it. I was basking in the newfound glory of “not changing a bit”.
I was still basking this morning, while brushing the ageless hair on my swollen head, and getting ready for work. Some things never change!
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
My husband is away on business, so I decided to rip apart the house as much as possible and throw things away with impunity.
Unpacking dusty crates and boxes in the basement normally doesn't take all day, but the memories you uncover sidetrack you.
I just found an old pair of pants packed up in my basement. They were so miniature it was ridiculous. I can't believe I ever owned them, but between me and my husband, I know they're mine.
Size 16. I can scarcely remember wearing that size, it was over ten years ago. They were misses size, I didn't know I even *HAD* any misses size anything.
I was doing laundry, and only had on my underwear, so I thought I'd amuse myself. I put my leg into them. To my amazement, I was able to pull them all the way up!!!!!
I was floored. I put the other leg in, and UP they went! WOW!! Now, would they zip?
I'm not gonna lie, they are tight as an onion skin, but here I sit WEARING THEM. My miniature pants! OMG!
My husband will probably have a similar reaction when he sees that I have ripped out the kitchen counter and relocated two cabinets.
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