Buck 99!

I took so long to write this post that it is out of date already! I typed the title last night, two days after seeing that lovely slender single 1 at the front of my weight. 199.5. W-O-W. I cannot remember the last time I weighed less than 200 pounds. 8th grade? Maybe?

My gym teacher that year tried so hard. They all did. Mrs. Gorman, starting in 3rd grade, Mr. Cormier in middle school, looking for ways to get me and the 2 or 3 others like me active, feeling strong. We were pulled out of class for situp races, attempts to do pull ups.

The worst day of the year was Presidential Fitness Day.

Normally, I could distract people (or so I believed) with my wit, intelligence and eagerness to please. But one day a year, all my failings were on display. How many pull-ups can you do? 0. If none, how long can you hang? 3 seconds. How long does it take you to run a mile? Run? I can't even walk a mile. Every year I developed excruciating leg cramps and couldn't either start or finish. Mr. Cormier gave me disbelieving looks, as I would have in his place, but the crazy thing is that I really did have debilitating leg cramps all through those years. I'd cramp the night before and barely be able to walk the next day. Tightly wound much?

Only now has physical activity reached over the cold war divide and tried to become my friend. I feel a bit like I am Reagan, however, and instead of being nice, affable Gorbachev, exercise is more like Breshnev or Putin. Luring me in.

"I wish someone had told me; I said to Jack the other morning after a half-hour on my treadmill, "Everyone always talks about how good exercise is for you, blah blah blah, great skin, toning, heart capacity, etc. But no one ever told me it was good for my mental health. That it kicks out all the anxiety and flushes the knots from my system. I wish I had known!"

Of course, no one I knew exercised. While in college I spent Thanksgiving with a new friend's family. After eating we went for a leisurely hike in the woods around their home. A revelation! Immediately I tried implementing this wonderful new habit in my family. Ha! We are of the sit and smoke ilk, not the trekking with sticks folk.

Somehow here I am, in this place where I have less than 50 pounds to lose. My BMI calculator still lists me as obese, as does the giant impression my butt makes on the edge of the bed, but living people tell me how skinny I am. In aerobics yesterday (how weird to say that), I looked in the mirror and saw chicken legs! To satisfy my BMI, I have 39.5 pounds to go. I'd like to lose 48. Being 150 pounds has been such an impossible dream my whole life. That, and wearing a size 10.

The transition from girl's clothes to women's clothes was one of those moments in life when you didn't see the Mack truck coming. I expected that although I had outgrown all the girl's things I would begin again as tiny in the women's things. That you went from 16 in girls to 2 in women's. Made sense to me. But no, the first pair of shorts I got as a 10 year old were size 12. I was devastated. There was no hiding place for me down there. I was big, even for a woman.

And here I am, closing in on those days again. But this time from a different place, a different state of mind. I am peeling layers, revealing my strength and connecting to my source, to my inner power. It is emotional and scary, but I have been inducted into the trekking with sticks clan and am hoping the specter of physical activity slowly fades from Breshnev into Mr. Rogers. Won't you be my neighbor, exercise?

CURRENT WEIGHT: 198.5

Perspective

I've gone from feeling ecstatic that I have bones (ribs! a collarbone! hip bones!) to focusing once again on the burbles of flesh left. There are the rolls I can pull from my stomach, the flaps under my arms, the dangly bits of thigh.

An elderly lady friend stopped me the other day to tell me she has been meaning to tell me that of all the people she has known who have undergone dramatic weight loss, my skin is the tightest. I was surprised, though after reflection, I realized that all most people see is my face and that, indeed, has done very well.

The other parts, the ones hidden from the outside world for another good six months, aren't bouncing back as quickly. When I see the wrinkles on my inner thighs I flash first to my mother, since these are how I remember her thighs, and second, to a conversation I had in sixth grade.

I had noticed that when I put my ankle on my opposite knee to cross my legs I had stripes in my skin. I was amazed and pointed out this discovery to my friend, Sarah, who was sitting next to me in band.

"Those are stretch marks," she said, apologetically, and turned back to her music. Needless to say, I flew my foot back to the floor and flushed my embarrassment into my clarinet.

Only now does it occur to me to wonder how on earth she of the giraffe nickname, she the descendant of two of the gangly-folk clan, she could have known about stretch marks. Especially before I, descendant of the can't-leave-your-room obese kind, did.

So here I am, becoming more and more familiar with the impulse that I imagine drives anorexia. Wanting to control, wanting the external image to be perfect. Wanting no one to notice any faults. Never quite being perfect enough.

I celebrate that I have the ab muscles to do the hula hoop and high kicks. I honor that I can see air between my thighs, something I have never-ever, even as a teenager, been able to do. I am overjoyed that I can use my left hand to unclasp my seat belt when I drive in my driveway. That I prefer to take the stairs. These things do still make me marvel. But yet. But yet.

There is also the conversation I recall from around the same time, the one with my aunt. The context is fuzzy and unimportant anyway. To her, it was a funny story. Perhaps I had asked about my father's grandmother. What she looked like, what she was like. What I got was a hearty laugh.

"Well, she was a big woman and when she got old, her flat breasts hung below her waist and bugged the heck out of her. So she rolled them up and tucked them under her arm."

I still shudder.

on hobbies

It occurred to me the other day that I have few or no hobbies. In declaring loudly a few months ago that if I ever attempted to sew again, all friends and family should hold an intervention, I officially denounced that excruciating pursuit. My horseback riding days are long past and hopefully coming soon, but are not in the NOW. Playing with my animals is a fun pastime, but a pretty passive activity. They romp, I observe. I used to bake, but those days are over.

Today, it seems, my hobby is my health. What to eat, what kind of exercise to engage in, weighing myself, writing about my weight-loss journey.

When I realized this, the fear was pretty quick to slice into me. If it is a hobby, then it follows that it can fall out of favor, slip from fashion, be replaced with something a bit more slick and shiny.

My hope is that what I've been engaged in this past year is not a passing fancy, but shifting into a new gear, perhaps even replacing the transmission so this vehicle never again slips out of gear into neutral. Perhaps once this shift is solid I will be free to explore new hobbies.

Maybe that time is now. And that is why I am sitting with a laptop at 5am. Maybe this will be the year that novel finds its way out.

11 in 11

1. Climb Mt. Katahdin
2. Hike to Bomber Falls
3. Take riding lessons
4. Write a novel draft
5. Attend Jackson Hole Writer's Conference
6. Buy a house
7. Eat our chickens
8. Go to the Common Ground Fair
9. Wear size 12
10. Finish denim curtain
11. Write a letter a month. At least.

Graph of March-October weight loss

almost there!

WOW

I've developed the habit of weighing myself constantly; totally against the advice of all those who advise us about how to lose weight. But I've become a firm believer in this: weigh yourself constantly and pick the lowest number. You'll feel better.

This week, though; I've been avoiding that white slice of truth on the bathroom floor. Instead of greeting it with excitement, I've been pretending it was part of the floor. For two weeks we have been driving to see specialists. I've missed most of my exercise classes and have been shoving food in my mouth at every available opportunity. Not a recipe for successful weight loss. Plus, I felt weighed down. So, I left well enough alone. I just wasn't ready to see the same red numbers I'd past long ago.

But this morning I decided it was time to face the music. I did my business, tossed the heavy bathrobe on the counter, stepped out of my slippers and stepped up to the plate. 201.5!!

"WOW."
"WO-OW."
"WOW!"

I was floored. I'd LOST weight. Instead of 207, 209 or even 210, like I had been expecting, the digits were in a totally different order. I had to step off and get on again to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. WOW. Not sure how this happened (soup?) but I'm grateful!

Update: 101 things to do in 1001 days

9/1/08-5/30/2011
Bold=done

TO DO:

For me:
Take an art class
Take a writing class (12/10/08)
Unblock creativity
Walk 10 miles per month (19/330)
Try insulin resistance diet for two weeks (5 months as of Jan 2010)
Swim at least once per month (9/33)
Have a massage once a year (0/3)
Have acupuncture once a year (20/3)
Submit something for publication
Hike the desert side of Sinks Canyon (8/29/10)
Go snowmobiling in Wyoming
Go horseback riding 8 times (8/8)
Clean out clothes twice a year (5/5)
Organize my earrings
Learn a magic trick
Buy some art (12/7/08 - Christmas present from Jack)
Go to ACRL (attending virtually)
Watch Casablanca
Get a tribal lands pass
Journal every week's events (15/142)
Participate in a local walk/run event
Spend less than 5 hours a day on the computer including work
Take a picture of myself once a month (33/33)
Blog once a week (19/142)
Get a pedicure every Spring (2/2)
Go to church once a month (7/33)
Hike to the falls (June 2010)

For us:
Take Sluggo to obedience class
Help Jack record at least five poems (2/5)
Ride into the wilderness
Fly over the Wind Rivers
Create a calendar with all relevant birthdays on it
Draft a 'what if one of us dies' plan with Jack

For the house:


For the planet:
Replace light bulbs with better ones
Attend farmer's market
Post something on freecycle
Give blood

TO GET:
Get a laptop
Get an mp3 player
Get wireless headphones
Get new sneakers

TO GIVE:
Choose 10 Christmas presents from Etsy
Tithe to charities once per month (2/33)ie, food bank, Grady Grossman school, One Stop Center
Have Jenna overnight every 6 weeks (4/25)
Write four letters to Kimmy
Write to Hailey and Cole four times each(3/8)
Write Christmas letters (1/3)
Send birthday cards
Make a blurb cookbook for Jack (he doesn't want one)
Buy Christmas presents for children in need
Update Jack's website (he doesn't want to)
Make a family tree for Adam's family
Support Kimmy monthly (10/15)

TO VISIT:
Attend a play (Church Basement Ladies with Anne)
Visit the Nicolaysen Museum
Visit the Wildlife Art Museum
See a friend outside of work once per month (9/33)
Visit Maine twice (2/2)
Go to the Buffalo Bill Historical Center (2/14/09)
Have Jack and Robin over
Go to Kansas City 3 times (3/3)
Celebrate a wedding anniversary at the Old Faithful Inn
See Maggie
Go to Moccasin lake

TO MAKE:
Make an afghan (in process)
Make Ciara a quilt (12/25/09)
Make a photo calendar
Frame 4 of my photos
Put family photos up(2010)
Write a short story
Finish the mystery novel
Fill one notebook per month (0/33)
Make braided rug kit

TO PAY:
Pay off the dentist
Save a quarter a day (3/1001)
Pay off F&M
Build $1,000 emergency fund
Sell something on ebay for everything I buy there (0/3)
Stay current on bills
Bring lunch to work 3x week (9/426)

Letting go

Strong lines

"It was as if she were more certain. If someone were sketching her they would use clear, strong lines, whereas before they might she used faint marks and more shadowing. She was like a fossil that's been cleaned and set so everyone can see what it is." - Tracey Chevalier from Remarkable Creatures


This is me now. Amazing. The image I expect to see in the mirror is more like this, me of May 2009.

WAHOO! FIFTY pounds gone

50

I carried in a fifty-pound bag of feed yesterday to note the difference. I am SO glad to not have to do THAT anymore.

Trying to remember to celebrate and not simply zone in on the next goal...

So close!

Sugar/dairy-free milkshake

Frozen banana, coconut milk, tsp erythritol, drop vanilla, 1/4 tsp cinnamon. Yum!

Shifting gears

It is funny; every time I am undergoing a significant shift I imagine I am on a lonely journey through to my personal highest self. Then - without fail - I get a newsletter email from Sarah Winslow outlining how just about every client she has is undergoing the same shift. Amazing.

The shift this week is about transitioning from being OK with authenticity to building strength. Of course, I am not done with authenticity yet. This seems to work more like dominoes where one lays atop the other than checkers where you get to move to a whole new square with each move.

Only 8 more pounds until goal #1 is met. I'm considering it my reward challenge. On the reward table are a party, new haircut and a giant bouquet of flowers. I'm giving myself until May 15 to hit the bell. Forty-two pounds down. Eight more to go (for now).

There are many more to go, of course, but we have to focus on the small triumphs. In fact, I'm trying even harder to focus on those eight pounds ever since hearing that someone I know who wore the same size I did has already dropped to 170. I am still at 227.

Harrumph.

This jealousy has me flummoxed, though; it is as though I have cornered the market on weight loss success and anyone else's success somehow subtracts from mine. My, my, we have a long way to go, don't we, self?

Skinnier and skinnier

Eat local? Or is that loco?

I just finished "Plenty," by Alisa Smith and JB McKinnon, who created the 100-mile diet concept. I didn't know this when I found the book, but found it because it was mentioned as similar to Animal Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, which got me all fired up last year.

We feel a bit more prepared to garden this year, though the idea of eating locally is daunting. Especially since local will have to stretch to 200 miles at least. Maybe 500. That would get us to Salt Lake and Denver, where we might have some luck. But how often will we realistically make it there?

Also, all that traveling to get food takes away from time growing things here in our own garden. A dilemma.

So far, the plan includes wheat grown here on the ranch (though we don't yet know how we'll grind it), cheese from Star Valley cheese, veggies from local growers (soon!)and our own harvest, fruit from Lander orchards and Rasberry Delight farms, wine from the Irvin winery on Webbwood Road, eggs from our chickens and meat from here on the ranch.

Me: "You'll have to go fishing."
Him: "No, I'll have to go catching."

Facebook, or the past relived

This is me just days before graduating from high school, 16 years ago. If I wasn't then, I was close to reaching my all-time high weight, 332 pounds. At five-foot, seven inches tall, that is five pounds for every inch or 60 pounds for every foot. That would be like a 12"-long baby weighing SIXTY pounds. This picture lasted for at least another three more years, until my junior year of college.

Memories. Thanks, facebook.

The courage to relate

I feel different and need to remember that the red numbers on the scale are not validation. Those less easy to measure feelings are the mile markers. My limbs move more freely, more like tentacles than stumps. Food is nourishment, not solace. When my husband hugs me, it is my core he is touching instead of my shell.

It is as though as this season switches from winter hibernation to the rush to life that is Spring I, too, am awakened. I am very aware of my root; instead of maintaining a solid barricade there I now remind myself to stoke fires and keep energy moving.

This is the Source; connecting to it bridges me and my life to all that I eat, experience and love. It is engagement and exchange. Finally I taste the courage of relationship.

The edge of the plateau

The weight-loss drought is over! After months of nearly nothing, I've dropped five pounds THIS WEEK. Finally!!

Which is nice, especially combined with the shocked look on the faces of friends I hadn't seen in a while yesterday. They weren't just pleasantly surprised, they were dumbfounded. It feels great!

weight: 229.5 (40 pounds down since September 7, 2009. 5 pounds since March 31, 2010)

Money comes frequently and easily

Oh how it does. Nice big UNEXPECTED check arrived today. THANK YOU.

32 pounds

The real news is some form of exercise happening here for the last 11 days out of 21. More than half! :)

Visual record

August


January

Into the future!

I started in early September. After seeing Julie and Julia, specifically the poster "Do You Have What It Takes?", I refocused my efforts and began in earnest on the path to the future I want. With the help of Dr. Conard, I dropped 20 pounds in 6 weeks.

It has been four months now. This morning marked the official 30-pound mark. A triumph. And now I am going out to buy three 10-pound bags of flour.

Emerging