Fat as Hell…

You know… I woke up this morning feeling a bit down.

I was having one of those days where I was missing that feeling that I used to have when I chose not to worry about what I eat. I’m sure you’ve had those moments too; where you long for a few moments of just not caring… of not having to count the calories, worry about the carbs, worry about the fat, worry about the sodium, limit my portions and add it all up at the end of the day.

Sitting here this morning I thought… I miss living like a normal person. I miss just going to the fridge, grabbing what looks good and eating it, not because it fits into my daily calorie allotment, but because I want it. I miss being able to go out to lunch with friend(s) without spending the whole meal worrying about what I can eat and resenting myself and my friend(s) for all the things I can’t. I miss not spending every moment of every day worrying about how fat I am and how fat I will be if I eat this thing vs. that thing. I miss no longer being able to look at a banana and seeing just a banana. Now, instead, I see 100 calories… and then the questions begin. Can I eat that? Should I eat that? If I do eat that, what can’t I eat later?

It never ends.
And it’s exhausting.

On the other hand, there’s a lot of other things that I definitely *don’t* miss about the way I was before. I *don’t* miss having constant back pain. I *don’t* miss not being able to walk even a short distance without being out of breath. I *don’t* miss being tired all of the time. I *don’t* miss NOT being able to fit into a booth at a restaurant. I *don’t* miss trying on the biggest size at every clothing store I went into and NOT being able to fit into any of them. I *don’t* miss not being able to find shoes that fit because my feet were so swollen and puffy all the time. I *don’t* miss being gawked at on the street by strangers. I *don’t* miss refusing invitations because I was too embarrassed to meet new people. I *don’t* miss feeling like a failure all of the time. I *don’t* miss the look my husband would give me when he was trying not to show that my weight embarrassed him or made him sad. I *don’t* miss hating myself.

When you’re fat, these feelings too never end.
And that shit will kill you.

Sometimes, I just need reminding that even though this is hard, and even though I still have a long way to go, being the way I was before was a lot harder. And, yes, I might miss not having choosing not to care about my weight, but I would miss feeling better about myself even more.

But wait!  That’s not all!!

My day got even better a little later in the afternoon when a surprise package from Paola arrived at my door!

Just look at all the goodies I got!

!!!

A few weeks ago I asked Paola about the wholegrain Cracker Breads that she sometimes eats and posts

about over at the Food Confessional… little did I know that she would not only send me a whole box of these yummy (20 calorie!!) treats, but that she would also send me some Finn Crisps, some caramel rice cakes, some hot chocolate sachets, a lovely sweater (that no longer fits her because she’s getting so skinny!!) and another pair of beautiful, handmade earrings!!

Oh my stars!! Talk about generous and unexpected!! Of course, I had to open up each package and try each of the yummy treats she sent me from across the ocean… but luckily, because they’re so low in calories and good for me, I was able to indulge without going over my calorie allotment for the day.  Bonus!

So… all in all, I’d say it’s been a very good day.  :)

After last week’s ginormous loss, I didn’t expect much of a loss this week, if anything. In fact, I was half expecting a gain. That said, I was pleased to see the following numbers when I stepped on the scale this morning:

249.5lbs - 247.4lbs = -2.1lbs

So… not a giant loss, but totally respectable, and one I can live with and be grateful for.

Unfortunately, however, I did suffer a bit of a setback this afternoon. In the end, while I didn’t go over my calories by much, I’m bothered by how easy it was for me to overeat when given the chance. I posted more about this over at the Food Confessional, but the long and the short of it is that my husband and I went out to lunch with some friends today… and while, naturally, I had the best of intentions, by the time the meal was over, I’d not only eaten more than I should have, but I’d also kept on eating long after I was full. The part that really troubled me was how easy it was for me to “binge” with so little provocation. I didn’t feel pressured, I wasn’t upset, hormonal or otherwise emotional. I just wanted the food and I ate it. A lot of it. (Thing is, if you just look at the numbers, it might seem silly to be upset, but it’s really not the calories that qualify what happened today as a binge… it’s the fact that I continued to shovel food into my mouth, long after I was full).

*shrugs*

Anyway, rather than dwell on this setback, I’m trying instead to look forward to tomorrow as a new opportunity to do better. One thing I am proud of is the fact that I didn’t use my fuck-up from this afternoon to continue to overeat later. There have been many, many times when I would have just thrown in the towel and followed up today’s binge with, at minimum, a hot fudge sundae. And I suppose that’s something to be grateful for.

Speaking of being grateful, my loss this week qualifies me for some new bling, and you better believe I’m gonna take it. :)

Although I don’t always make it, I try very hard to go for a (vigorous, heart pumping, heavy sweat inducing) walk every evening. I started doing this about a year ago because, frankly, it was the only exercise I could do comfortably, (and when I say comfortably, I mean do without passing out — and even then there were a few times that I came close to doing just that). I think I’ve blogged before about the .2 mile loop that surrounds my house and how I spent much of last fall and winter tracing that loop over and over again.

The first night I decided to go for a walk, I struggled to make it around even once… but eventually I got stronger and that one time around slowly turned into two times and two times turned into three until finally I marked my first mile. I did that mile walk many, many nights… until eventually I did two.

Now, I walk a little more than 3 miles a night. But the truth is that the distance doesn’t feel as important to me as it once did. Lately I’ve been measuring my success by other means.

These days I’m no longer walking that .2 mile loop. Now I walk a 3.2 mile loop that runs through the golf course and around a lake that is adjacent to my neighborhood. It’s a good route for a couple of reasons, first off… it’s paved. I walk the same path that the golf carts take during the day and for me that’s a plus because regardless of how fit I get, I’m not all that coordinated and am sometimes prone to falling down… especially as the light begins to dwindle in the evening. The second plus that my new route has going for it, is that it’s quite hilly. I’m constantly having to push a little harder as I negotiate these inclines and descents… and with each hill I feel my heart rate increase or the strain in my muscles as I carry my, still pretty heavy, self up or down the path. And finally, the third thing I love about my evening walk is that it’s really and truly lovely. Just about every time I go, I chastise myself for not bringing my camera. One of these days I will, but for now all I can say is that there are rolling hills and a pristine lake complete with swans. It’s not wild or untamed by any stretch of the imagination but it is very charming and makes the exertion feel a bit more worth it.

One thing that I should mention now is that I live in the American southeast which means that, even in the evening, it’s still very hot out, but what’s more, the humidity here is downright oppressive. Tonight, when I left for my walk it was still over 80 degrees and the humidity was full bore. The moment you walk out the door, the sweat starts, and believe me, it doesn’t stop… which makes for a good work out, I suppose, but also makes for a pretty stinky return.

Anyway… I’m rambling a bit, but the point I’m trying to get to is that a year ago I’d never have been able to go for the walk I went for tonight. I’d never have made it even half that distance, and certainly not in the heat of summer. And what’s more, a year ago, I wouldn’t have dared tried.

A lot of the good folks in blogland right now are engrossed in a number of challenges. Several of my favorite weight loss bloggers are either currently pursuing, or have already mastered, the Couch to 5k challenge, and many others still are currently pushing themselves towards 100 push-ups. The brutal truth is that when I read about these endeavors, whatever joy and pride I may feel for my virtual friends as they pursue and reach these goals, is always tempered with a bit of jealousy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally sincere when I call BikiniMe my push-up hero, or when I tell Marshmallow or Andrew that I could hardly keep myself from jumping up and down for joy when I watched the videos and read about their recent 5k success.

And yet…

That joy rarely keeps me from looking down at my own still very flabby body and wishing that I were at the point where I could do even 1 push up or run even 1k (ok, who am I kidding? I’d settle for .01k at this point). But I’m *not* at that point yet. Not yet.

Not yet.

Changing everything about the way you’ve lived for the last 37 years isn’t easy. Learning to treat your body with respect and feed it in ways that are healthy and that promote a long life is hard, hard work. Many days I fuck up… and I’m sure the days to come will contain innumerable stumbles, but when I look back at where I used to be, it’s hard not to feel a little bit proud of how far I’ve come.

True. I’m not at the point where I’m ready to join the C25K challenge or attempt to do 100 pushups, but I am, literally and figuratively, miles away from where I used to be. I’ve lost weight, yes. And I will continue to lose weight, but what seems even more important tonight is the fact that I’m not the same person I was a year ago. I’m smarter, I’m stronger and I’m better prepared for the long road ahead. And, I bet, if you think about it, you are too.

It’s so very easy to fall prey to that little voice inside my head that constantly tries to remind me that I’m still fat and that even though I’ve lost a lot of weight, I have even more weight to go. (I’m sure you know that voice… in fact, I bet my voice and your voice are pals). The thing I think we all have to do is to quiet that voice with another, stronger, one. A voice that reminds us, no matter where we are on this journey, that we’ve come a long, long way and that each step forward takes us that much further away from the people we used to be.

Whatever I do, I must keep *that* voice at the forefront of my consciousness, because that voice is not only healthier and for more productive, but that voice is also right.