Ummm ... ouch*

So I'm going to try to be a bit more disciplined writing in this blog as I begin to really focus on the fitness side of my weight loss journey.  My objective is to document in a detailed manner the sheer torture of this experience so that I can fully appreciate the day that I can walk again!  (ha)

Let me explain:  Recently, I won a drawing for fitness training at a gym in Redding:  CrossFit.  CrossFit is pretty cool and they are turning out some very fit athletes! 

Woo Hoo, right?!  ;-)   Sure, yeah ... whatevuh!  (lol)

My first one-on-one training session was Tuesday evening @ 5:30 p.m.  I was cautiously optimistic and eager to get started.  I am not certain what exactly I was expecting.  I knew the training was going to consist of initial technique training ... how to properly lift, squat, press, etc.  I think I was figuring on about 1 hour of time from start to finish.  Ummm ...

Not.

I should've listened when I was forewarned that this particular trainer was - and I quote - a "beast".  How can something so tiny be a beast?  I remained cautiously optimistic.

THAT was my first mistake!  (ha)  Our first hour was spent on technique/skill training and that I was expecting.  In fact, I would have to say the upper body training was not bad at all - I was taught how to properly lift and press and stretch using a PVC pipe in place of a regular barbell.  Piece o' cake!

It was when this gal began to work with me on the proper technique for squatting.  Ohhhh man - the first few were okay.  BUT - when I had to start squatting and staying down in position so the gal could properly adjust my foot placement, where my thighs were, etc., THIS is when the burn started.  I don't know how many squats I did (I stopped counting at 4,358! ha ... okay, maybe THAT's a slight exaggeration??) ;-) ... but for a person who hasn't squatted for years ... 5 squats would've been too many at that point in time.  Let me just say -- there were WAYYYYY more than five.  sigh*)

After almost a full hour of this training, skinny girl says, "Okay Rebecca ... let's take a quick break.  I have to go to the bathroom and I'd like you to get some water.  I want you to be well hydrated when we begin your ...

WORKOUT!"

Ummmmmmm ......

HUH?  WHAT?  I chuckle and she looks at me strange?  "What?" (I think) ... "You are not joking?"  Quickly it is apparent ... nope, she's NOT joking???  Oh PUULEEEZZZZEEE God - this HAS to be a joke?!

I am about to collapse.  I'm not kidding you.  My legs were singing the J-E-L-L-O jingle.  They were quivering ...

But this was no joke.  She walks into the bathroom and I must admit -- I immediately looked for the nearest exit door that wasn't blocked by fit freaks.  I planned my route ... could I grab my purse from the cubby and make it to the exit undetected BEFORE she had a chance to wipe?

Sadly, no.  Not only does this chick run fast ... she goes to the bathroom too fast.  Shoot!  Plan A:  Foiled.  :-(

The WOD (Workout Of the Day) for me consisted of their 10,20,30,40 plan:  10 push-ups followed by 20 sit-ups, followed by 30 (more!) squats (WHAAAAT?????), followed by a 400 m. (the equivalent of once around a high school track) run. 

My mind instantly went into panic mode.  I was fighting off the voice screaming, "I can't, I can't" ... I was trying to pull from deeeeep within ... I honestly felt like I had nothing more to give.  The push-ups and the sit-ups?  Maybe.  But the squats followed by any type of run?  I just didn't see it within reach. 

Went I went in to the gym I tried to be positive and explain in a non-defeatest way that I was very much a beginner ... having not been a regular attender to a gym for 10 years.  Even when I did attend regularly it was to an all women's gym where my focus was primarily on some nautilus equipment and mostly an aerobics and/or step class.  This gym format is new to me -- more of a military combat style using free weights, bands, barbells, ropes, etc.  It is an intense level fitness center.  As they would say, they are "hardcore".

It's great - don't get me wrong.  These are serious work out enthusiasts ... and I am in awe of their discipline, their muscles, their stamina.  I truly am.

But for myself?  I DO want to walk when all is said and done.  (ha)

When skinny chick came out from the bathroom - I was still there (she was probably as surprised as I!).  :-)  I did the push-ups (such as mine were compared to her example), I did the sit-ups ... those were actually okay ... but the 30 additional squats?  Those were very difficult for me to finish - which was disheartening because she stood over me with stopwatch in hand and I knew my efforts were being recorded from start to finish.  I'm sure that's good - it would be great to look back in several months to see where my efforts have taken me.  But I have no plans to join this gym once this free "fundamentals training" is completed.  It was a great drawing to win but we have a family membership through my work that covers every family member for 1/2 the price that this particular gym charges for one individual.  It is not only not feasible for me - but it's not practical for my family, nor is it necessary. 

I am sincerely trying to determine my ultimate fitness goals for me as an individual.  I am toying with the idea of eventually competing in a marathon - and even toying with the idea of taking that one step further and competing in a traiathlon.  These are goals I am thinking I might want to achieve.  What I am sincerely trying to determine is whether or not I must start out at this level intensity to eventually be able to accomplish the goals I just listed ... or if, as I'm suspecting, she is pushing too fast out the gate.  I am all for a challenge and I expect to be uncomfortable and even in some pain initially commencing with a new program. 

However, I have to say - I didn't feel "listened" to by this trainer.  She was young, she was eager, she was enthusiastic.  But she didn't listen to me.  I wasn't making excuses - I was being honest.  If I felt she was trying to push me and that I just wasn't willing to give my best - that would be one thing.  I think a good trainer can see in us what sometimes we cannot see in ourselves. 

This isn't the case.  I do not think she had the wisdom to realize limitations and the red flag to me is that I didn't feel the "comfort chemistry" that I think is necessary between a trainer and trainee.  BOTH need to be able to express where they are and feel listened to.  My feelings were ignored.  I think she pushed too hard.  I really do.

When it came time to go outside and do my run and I (honest to God) went to lift my leg and start a subtle jog - my left leg totally gave way.  I almost fell - I hobbled and locked my knee to keep from going down.  It shook and gave way again once I had steadied myself.  I turned and said, "I will be walking this 400 meter."  I don't think she was too impressed but she nodded affirmatively and I turned and finished the 400 meters at a walking pace.  All the while she had that stop watch in the palm of her hand held upright so I could see it.  If that was supposed to make me move faster it would've ... if I could've.

At the moment I turned back to finish the 400 m., I felt a new understanding of how obese individuals felt on "The Biggest Loser."   My trainer did not scream in my face at all -- but the individuals on that show who are also new to fitness routines are subjected to Jillian Michaels getting right up in their faces - screaming at them not to quit, to dig deeper, etc.  If Jillian had been with me this past Tuesday she would've definitely been screaming in my face ... she probably would've wanted to slap me.  I might have been one of those contestants flying off the back of the treadmill! 

In hindsight - I do feel like I gave it my all on Tuesday night.  I'm looking back and asking myself, "Did you wimp out?  Could you have given more? ... Be Honest Now!" 

Wellll - I didn't wimp out.  It's possible that skinny girl saw more in me than I saw in myself but I physically could not get my legs to jog.  Even walking I felt like I had to lock my knees to keep them from giving way. 

If it wasn't happening to yours truly even I might've looked on and chuckled.  But - it WAS happening to me and ... it wasn't so funny then!  :-)

Suffice it to say, by the time I got into my car to leave I was uncertain whether or not I would have strength enough in my foot to apply pressure to the gas pedal.  Once I was successful in that feat I was all the more thankful I had an automatic car and didn't have to use the other foot for the clutch.

I made it home and tried not to let on too much.  I took some Tylenol this morning at 3am!  (Yes, really.)

My next session is tomorrow night ... and will I go?

I will keep you .....

... posted

(because luckilly - TYPING - uses my fingers ... NOT my lower extremeties.  From my thighs down there is a sign that reads, "OUT OF ORDER" - so that's the explanation for it if you see me at the mall later!)

To Touch a Toe!

TODAY 

I, Rebecca Dahlen, can touch my toes with complete and total ease!

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If you're new to reading my blog, the above "proclamation" may not seem like a big deal but ... trust me.  It is a big deal. 

To me.

It marks my new beginning.  "Touch My Toes" was the first of many new dreams ... it is the preface to setting, reaching for and achieving MANY dreams to come! 

At 47 years of age I finally realized:  You just have to start with ONE dream!  It ALL starts with one!  :-)  When you begin to work toward believing in and achieving one dream ... [when you acknowledge within yourself that you - and you alone - had the guts to go for it] ... and when you ACHIEVE that dream - your confidence is boosted. 

You dare to dream again. 
     To dream bigger. 
           To dream without fear, without limits, without hesitation!

As you may know (or if you are new to this blog - as you are about to learn), just a little over 7 mos. ago I underwent gastric bypass surgery - Roux en Y.  Prior to the decision to radically alter my body and lifestyle, I had stopped believing in my personal dream[s]. 

Scratch that.  Truth be told - not only had I stopped believing in my dreams ... I couldn't even remember what those dreams were. 

I didn't really care that I could no longer touch my toes, that I couldn't get out of bed without the soles of my feet throbbing, that I could not walk ANY distance (flat ground or hilly) without become instantly winded, that I was completely self-conscious and embarrassed in public with regard to my physical appearance, that my wedding ring had long been placed in a locked jewelry box because I couldn't get it over my knuckle - let alone in its final resting place snug past my knuckle upon my ring finger. 

But the moment that I rose from a plastic chair at Shasta College and saw a large round sweat mark left in the place of where my backside had been - THAT was my defining "final straw" moment!

It looked as though I'd pee'd in my chair when I rose and went to push the chair back under the table.  And someone - a student who had entered the room for the next class - was coming toward me to sit in that same chair.  My chair with the puddle ... My "puddle pee" chair.

Of course I hadn't pee'd and no, it wasn't a puddle.  But it was a large round sweat spot.  Left by me ... because I was so heavy that I sweat when I sat too long.  My body overheated.  It was September in Redding, CA.  Yes, it's still warm in September but sweat puddle in the chair warm?  I think not.

I dropped my class the day after I pushed my sweat spot chair in.  I quit.  To those who knew me I quit because I couldn't hack statistics (partly true).  But to me - in my deepest self - I quit because I was embarrassed.  I was humiliated.  I was ashamed of me. 

I wasn't a quitter.  But I quit.

For many individuals contemplating a major life change such as gastric bypass - their decision to have the surgery is preceeded by what I defined above as a "final straw" moment.  Something happens that causes the person to reach that ultimate "AH-HA" (aka: "UH-OH") moment! 

It's a wake up call.  A jarring incident.  As if having been in a deep slumber while their body and their self-control slipped away - the person has an event that awakens them from their sleep ... that captures their attention.

Something deep inside of me fought to change.  The idea that I would quit because I sweat too much? 

WHAT? 

While my feelings closest to the surface were screaming, "You are a failure,"  You will never change,"  "It's too late for you,"  "You're going to be 50 yrs. soon - who are you trying to kid?" -- something deeper inside said:

"Yes!  Becky, you CAN DO THIS!!  YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR LIFE!  WHAT DO YOU WANT?  Name it!  Claim It.  It is simply a matter of determining HOW BADLY YOU WANT TO CHANGE and WHAT specifically you want to achieve!"

I could hear a sincere longing in myself rising to the surface.  It was simply me asking myself WHAT I wanted ... and why did I believe I couldn't achieve whatever that was? 

Nobody else was saying, 'You can't.'  It was my own self saying, "No" ... to me. 

Isn't that ridiculous?  WHY in the world would I defeat my own self?  Well, I decided I would not.

So -- I am VERY happy to report that I bypassed those surface negative feelings and I latched on to the deeper dream.  I intentionally tuned out the static - the "noise" of the "no's" and I listened to my still small voice that said, simply,

"yes"


I had temporarily given up on dreaming:  Of dreaming of ever being at - or even remotely close to - my personal goal weight, dreaming that one day I would walk and talk at the same time again, dreaming that I could swim, run, play, wear shorts, sit in a class sweatless (ha).

Dreaming that I could touch my toes.

So - though my dream paled in comparison to Martin Luther King, Jr.'s -- I had a dream.

Literally I dreamed OUTLOUD, "I will one day be able to touch my toes."

THEN - I contacted a local bariatric surgeon and asked them to send me paperwork regarding their gastric bypass surgery.  I received the paperwork, filled it out and it was submitted to my insurance.  Within 3 weeks I received a form letter from the surgeon's office and it began with, "We are sorry to inform you ..."

I had been denied.

I decided to be "optimistic" - and chose to believe that it was a good thing that I had been denied.  I would, instead, be forced to work this weight off on my own.  I was sharing this with a co-worker who said, "Don't give up - contact your insurance ... get their advice as to who they would approve - who they would recommend.  Don't take one no as a final answer." 

After work that day I did just that.  I contacted my insurance and asked for their advice.  The first rep wasn't too helpful so after our conversation ended I called back - realizing that I'd probably get somebody new on the next call.  And I did.  And SHE was great!!  She put me on hold and when she came back on the line a few minutes later she told me that our insurance had a history of approving surgeries done with a Dr. Edward Felix in Fresno, CA.  "How far is that from where you live?" she asked me.

I told her that would not be too far at all!

(Hey, what's a 5+ hour drive for surgery?!  ha)

And the rest, as "they" say, is history.  I contacted Dr. Felix's office and began the process.  Seven months post-op I can say that pursuing that dream was one of the best decision I ever made.  Prior to my authorization I determined that I wanted to one day be able to touch my toes again.

Dream #1.

Achieved.

Next dream is in the making -- and, as always, I'll keep you ...

Posted!  :-)

Before, During and ... ('After' will be coming in 28 more pounds)

It's Time To Exercise ... (to exercise patience, that is!)

Pla·teau /plæˈtoʊ or, especially Brit., ˈplætoʊ/ Show Spelled [pla-toh or, especially Brit., plat-oh]
- to reach a state or level of little or no growth or decline, esp. to stop increasing or progressing; remain at a stable level of achievement; level off: After a period of uninterrupted growth, sales began to plateau.
- to cause to remain at a stable level, esp. to prevent from rising or progressing:
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Well, I'm fighting just a little bit of discouragement this morning because my scale is moving slower and I've been stuck in the 160's for one month now.  I have heard that plateaus are common at this point but hearing about it and experiencing it are quite different.

I was 160.4 this morning ... soooo close to breaking out of the 160's ... and yes, I know it will happen.  I just don't know when and, of course, I want it now ... (my good ol'  "microwave mentality"  working overtime). 

When I really stop to think about it, I think the real "issue" I'm dealing with is confidence that it will happen.  I can exercise patience while going through this process [I wonder if this type of exercise burns calories? ;-) ] -- I just need not panic and/or lose confidence in myself and/or my surgery.

I purchased a book (it should be arriving within the next two weeks) entitled, "The Emotional First + Aid Kit: A Practical Guide to Life After Bariatric Surgery."  It was more than I cared to spend on a book but it was chock full of information that I think will an extremely beneficial in helping me continue forward with the right perspective, answer questions common to those who have undergone this procedure, keep on keepin' on. 

The one thing I do not want to overlook during this process is the amount of learning and growing taking place.  I have learned - and am learning - sooo much about myself, about nutrition, about the benefits of exercise, about finding out what really makes me happy, what hobbies I like, how I want to spend my time.  I find myself reassessing my goals and my priorities -- knowing full well that losing weight isn't this panacea for all of life's issues.  Life is great, life is work, life is fun, life is hard, life is challenging, life is rewarding. 

Becoming a thinner person on the outside really isn't a cure-all for boredom, for low self-esteem, etc.  I think many people go into this life change (gastric bypass) believing it will fix whatever is bothering them.  I'm certain that, initially, I felt the same.  Fortunately, I had very beneficial pre-surgical counsel that enabled me to address some of the reasons I used food for more than nutrition/sustenance. 

Maybe it's true that "once upon a time" I used food as a comforter, a reliever of boredom, a "drug" if you will.  I was younger then ... it served a purpose.  Unfortunately, at 14 (the point at which I can remember using food for the first time to make me feel better), I didn't have the life experience to know that a break-up with a boy really wasn't the end of the world.  I know now that it's okay to be sad when sad things happen ... you don't have to put up a false bravado.  As the song says, "Everybody hurts sometimes." 

When I was younger I placed this unrealistic, self-imposed expectation on myself that it wasn't "okay" to show emotion when you were hurting.  I don't really know why I felt this way - I just did.  I can distinctly remember being so embarrassed the day after this boy broke up with me ... I didn't want anybody to know I was sad.  I was embarrassed about my feelings and, even though I'd been up all night crying, I can remember splashing my face with cold water and putting baby powder under my eyes on my cheeks to hide the puffiness - and of course using Visine to ... "get the red out!"  [ha]  Seriously -- WHY couldn't I just admit what I was feeling and say, "No - he broke up with me on the phone last night."  Break up's happen to teens alllll the time but - I felt ashamed, embarrassed ... embarrassed at having been "dumped" and ashamed that I wasn't stronger in dealing with my feelings.  Maybe just a good cry and a talk with my best friend would have been the key to a lifetime of much better health and ... much smaller thighs?  :-) 

Live and learn.  I am learning to cut myself some slack now ... I was young.  I didn't know any better.  I kept things to myself.  I "used" food to make me feel better.  I can so vividly remember eating sooo much food that summer - I was quite a bit heavier in 1 mos. time.  This is probably all "repeat" information ... I don't know.  But anyway ...

The bottom line is that, when you know to do better - you do better.  I may not have known better at 14 years of age how to deal with my emotions - good and bad - but I know better now.  There are so many healthier ways to respond to feelings and emotions - whether they be positive or negative, be it boredom, joy, frustration ... and overeating is not the healthy way to deal with any of those.

Anyway - so here I sit.  So close to breaking the 160 pound mark I can (pardon the pun) - taste it!  [lol] 

All of my personal goals are within reach and I will reach them!  As to this plateau ... maybe it will break  tomorrow, maybe by Friday, maybe within a few weeks ... heck, maybe this plateau will last another month ... who knows!?!  But ...

If I work my plan -- my plan will work. 

It will.  It's time to exercise patience - and I will remember my favorite verse - the one that has never failed to make me feel better, to help me to regain my perspective, to remind me to rest and put my faith back in God - where it belongs - and pay attention to what is really important: 

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV) 

That's all for this morning but, as always, I'll keep you ...

Posted

It's time to go to bed ...

Yes, yes ... I know.   The hands of the clock are signaling that I am way past my own self-imposed bedtime curfew.  But alas, sleep betrays me.  I'm simply not tired yet so -- why fight it?

I figure the reason sleep is evading me is because I have a major (major decision to me anyway) life decision coming up.  I am being evaluated for gastric bypass this Tuesday.

This is a big (pardon the pun) decision and one that I don't take lightly (sorry - this is becoming thematic!)  ;-)

I have already mentioned previously that I have been fighting this battle for over 32 years.  If my insurance company will not cover the gastric-bypass procedure then it will not be an option because I refuse to spend an arm and a leg to lose a stomach!  (ha)

But - I am all about "informed decisions" and I am going to consult with a surgeon approved by my insurance provider to "weigh" (there it is again!) all of my options.

I am learning:  Be careful who you mention this option to.  Almost everybody has a "horror" story that they can't wait to pass on.  I guess that should be something that causes me to stand up and take notice ... this is not a "cure all" or "the easy way out" -- this is a huge decision.

I am looking at this possibility as a "tool" - not an easy fix.  I have seen one too many regain most, if not all, of their weight back because they have not made the necessary lifestyle changes.  I think my mind is in the right place - I realize the responsibility lies with me -- not my surgeon. 

But I am at a place where I want to see where this road might lead ... and I am optimistic that I am doing the right thing to at least acquire more information to help toward making that informed decision.

I don't think that weight loss surgery is for everyone ... but this is a very personal decision.  Not one to be taken lightly but ... one I am seriously considering.

I think the road ahead looks bright and it definitely holds a lot of promise.

As always - I will keep you -

Posted!  :-)