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!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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)

'TIS Better to Have Loved and Lost" ...

Throughout the day I have been thinking more about the question, “Is it better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?” and I finally realized I do now know what I think on that one. However, the way I arrived at my conclusion is different than you might expect. I didn’t really reach my conclusion because of a relationship with a “significant other”.

I do believe it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all because …

Well, there are a few reasons and only one remotely has anything to do with an actual relationship I’ve been in with a significant other. The first has to do with Ivy … losing her has been harder than any loss and the only other time I can recall feeling so much pain is when I heard my brother and sister-in-law [a person who to me had been a “sister” since I was 7 years old] were divorcing.

Anyway – I digress …

I have had three or four significant losses in my lifetime … 1) the break-up with a boy I “loved” when I was 14 yrs. old; 2) the relationship with my sister-in-law [not a death but a loss nonetheless and at the time I felt it was worse than a death because it wasn’t an accident – it was an intentional decision made to divorce and leave "our family"]; 3) my grandmother’s passing … my grandma who spoiled the heck out of me as far back as I can remember until the day she died; and, of course, most recently; 4) Ivy.

All of these were significant to me because … well, they just were. Who can explain why someone ends up holding such a strong place in your heart? Different people, different personalities dealing with different losses, different heartaches.

The break-up with my ex husband was a loss but I don’t look on that as a past heartache … I’m not sure why??  At the time it hurt severely and it left a huge void.  However, I didn’t even realize until after I had typed up the list above that this dark period didn’t make it to my "grief" list.  Wow - that's kinda' odd I guess.  Maybe it has something to do with things deteriorating over time to the point that I felt I was suffocating and would slowly but surely die.  Not a literal death ... but I felt as though everything having to do with the "real/authentic" me was dying of a terminal cancer eating away at my true self.  By the time our divorce was final I realize (in hindsight) that overall - through the pain - I felt more a sense of relief rather than regret.

Of the “losses” I have experienced in my life – each “player” meant something to me. The only relationship I wouldn’t want to “do-over” would be the break-up with a "boyfriend"@ age 14. Not only did that hurt … more importantly ~ when I look back now it isn’t the “hurt” from the loss of “love” that makes me regret “him” – it’s realizing in hindsight how being in such a “serious” relationship at such a young age affected and impacted my relationships with friends and family. I focused too much on being with him, talking to him, spending time with him. I let other relationships fall by the wayside. THAT is what I regret about that. Not so much the hurting part because I really felt I loved him and it was a learning experience (not to mention he was so damned cute and I had so much fun during that time in my life. Ha). But seriously, no way to know that it would be a relationship I wouldn’t have wanted until after it was over. Hindsight = 20/20. Sometimes you just don’t know. Is it still worth it? Yes. But I just wouldn’t do that one over.

All the others have been TOTALLY worth it – even though, at the end, there was deep hurt.

As to the relationship with my sister-in-law … I can remember how devastated I felt when I received a phone call from my mom telling me my brother was getting divorced. I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut. I literally got sick and I don’t get sick easily. When I hung up the phone I cried so much. I was over at my fiance's house and he totally didn’t get it. Days later he was like, “What? Is that STILL bothering you?” It bothers me even today … it really hurt. Even I have been surprised at how much their divorce affected me. As a result of those feelings I totally vowed I would never put my kids through that. And then … well then years later that’s exactly what I did. It made me see my brother's situation in a different perspective … it made me realize that people don’t always know the in’s/out’s of a relationship. I thought they copped out in their marriage.  BUT – there are always three sides to the story: His, Hers, and the Truth … somewhere in between, right? ;-)

Anyway – back then I can remember so vividly waking in the middle of the night, realizing the situation wasn’t a dream … that it was really happening … and I’d cry all over again. I was in my 2nd year of college and I totally bombed out -- flunked. I lost all interest in everything ~ I wanted to move back home. I kept hoping they’d work it out – get back together, patch things up, etc., etc. No such luck. I think back on that and realize I was experiencing grief. I didn’t know what that was but in hindsight again – I was grieving the loss of a relationship. I loved my sister-in-law but hated her at the same time.  I loved God, I hated God. Sooo many emotions. I loved my fiance but hated him as well because he just didn’t “get” why I couldn't get over the hurt sooner.

Do I wish I’d never known her? Ohhh no! There are SO many memories of her having such a positive impact in my life … I wouldn’t trade that time for anything.

During that time in college I really began to question my “relationship” (as I’d known it previously) with God. I doubted his existence because I felt no peace, I didn't feel listened to, I didn't see any miracle in my brother's relationship.  I felt alone and EVERYTHING about my relationship to God felt like it was changing/different.  He wasn't Who I'd always "envisioned" Him to be (probably my personal Genie or something?)  However, I didn't/wouldn’t allow myself to voice my questions and doubts aloud because I had become engaged to someone only one week prior to the divorce announcement and that someone was planning on eventually becoming a pastor.  I couldn’t be thinking about marrying a future preacher and admit to doubts about the very existence of my fiance's future boss, God Himself (ha). But inside – I began to question everything I had ever been taught about God, about prayer, goodness, justice, fairness and love.

As to the relationship with my grandma … I just felt sad for her. She was a few mos. – literally 2 mos. – away from her 90th b-day party. She had a stroke and things were sudden but she was elderly and sooo many times in recent months had talked about suicide. She said she was tired and that so many friends and relatives had passed and she was ready to go. For her I felt sorrow but again – more relief. I actually felt guilty for not shedding more tears but I guess I have this certainty that I will see her again and so the thing that hurts now isn’t the loss but the waiting period between the now and the later. I look forward to a reunion with her. I’m not sure what is in the “ever after” so I choose something really good – reunions! 

And – to deal with my emotions about Ivy – I believe my grandma is taking care of Ivy. I never knew whether or not I believed that animals had souls that pass on from here to eternity but I choose to believe that now. My dog Ivy was one in a million. She was such a dear friend to me and I cannot explain the grief I have felt with her being gone. I don’t know how long it will take me to stop checking for her in the window when I get home in the afternoon, to look to see if she’s on her pillow by my bed only to be reminded every morning that her pillow – and she– is no longer there. It’s really hard. It really hurts.

It doesn’t make sense. So many would say to me, “She’s a DOG for Christ’s sake.” Yes, but she was MY dog … and I loved her.

Realizing how much this hurts me (irregardless of the fact that she is my pet and not my human family member) – I have come to the conclusion that yes – even though this hurts – I would totally rather love and lose than never to have loved.

I also look at that question in regards to my children. Having kids was a risk … a BIG risk. I never looked at all the things that could happen to them OR how much I would love them – prior to their being born. But now? Wow – I cannot even imagine losing one of my kids. THAT would kill more than anything in this world.

But knowing there’s always the chance I’ll get “that” call – from a school here in Redding, from a school in Davis, from a CHP officer somewhere … who knows? It could happen today, tomorrow, years in the future. Who knows? Would I forego our times together … and these incredible relationships in love?

No way.

Then I think to future son/daughter’s in law. Realizing that relationships sometimes go sour … how do I accept one of my kids’ spouses with an open heart only to realize that someday the couple may part and separate? I’ve pondered this and decided I can keep the kids-in-law at bay from my heart “just in case” – I can keep grandkids at bay “just in case” … but do I want to live a life motivated by fear and the “what if’s” and miss out on all the joy that love, family, friends, relationships can bring? No. I will love their significant other with all my heart – hope they make it work – and deal with it and become stronger if I have to get through another “ouch”. You always come out of heart hurts stronger and with more understanding and compassion for other human beings.

Life is about the risk. There’s love and loss. We can choose to let someone in or push them away to be safe.

If we choose to not let others in the end result is guaranteed: We will be alone.

Safe from heartache? Perhaps. But loneliness is heartache in and of itself.


Ultimately - I don’t want to be alone. I don’t think we were put on the earth to be alone, lonely or afraid. I don’t know what comes after … all I’ve ever been taught may or may not be true. This may be all there is – nobody who’s gone on before us can really tell us … or at least nobody I’ve known that’s died has ever come back to report to me what the “truth” of the hereafter is.

For all I know – this is it. I don’t think so but … I do know there will eventually be an “end” to my time on this earth. That is a sure thing. (Unless the Baptist church was telling the truth and I will live to see a rapture take place … which would totally be cool … but Cinderalla was kind of a liar so I’m not pinning my hopes on the “happily ever after” scenario!)

However, at the end of my time on this earth I have decided that I SOOO don’t want to look back with regrets. So far, at almost 47 yrs. of age, I realize my regrets have more to do with what I haven’t done or didn’t do than what I have or did …

But I have a chance to change that – to go for it … to throw caution to the wind and say, “To hell with it – I may as well take my chances and hope for the best.”

What have I got to lose? Well … perhaps happiness to some extent … that’s a possibility. BUT – I’d rather have the ‘possibility’ of a loss of happiness than the ‘guarantee’ of a loss of happiness if I live daily alone and lonely and in fear.

So there you have it -- my two cents worth on whether or not I believe it’s better to have loved and lost. Life’s too short …

Use the GOOD china! ;-)

A Sad Day

This is what grief feels like.

I have felt it before but the weight of it tonight is unbelievably heavy on my heart.  Today we had to say goodbye to our dear friend and our beloved family pet, Ivy.

Ivy was born on May 1, 1994.  She came to live with us close to my 31st birthday a few months later in July.  From the time she became a part of our family until she drew her last breath this morning, Ivy was and remained a constant companion, a true friend, a beautiful little girl.  She was loyal, she was fiercely protective of her people, she was intuitive, gentle and a true gift.  She made me feel as though I was the most important person in the world and every time I walked in the door she showed so much happiness it would've seemed I'd been away on a trip for far too long.  Ohhhh - to only live up to being worthy of that much love and devotion.

Ivy was TRULY one of a kind.  I love her so much.

I don't know how long this grief will hang like a cloud ~ I think in time this sadness will be lifted by our warm and vivid memories of happier times with our girl.

I love you, Ivy.  I have from the first time I held you in my arms at Haven Humane when you rested on your back, soaking in the attention and showing us your sweet and gentle nature.  I will love you forever.

Thank you for being my friend, my companion, my little baby dog.  I believe someday I will see you again -- prancing about, "talking" in your own special way, snapping at honey bees and running away with your favorite burger in between your teeth - certain to keep us from getting it from you.  Wow -- you loved to play.

And we know that you know you were loved.  By every single member of our family - immediate and extended.  You brought to life the saying, "To know you is to love you."  EVERYONE who met you - loved you, Ivy. 

YOU are the best baby - I love you!

Yaaay!

How funny!  One day after posting that I'd been stuck at a plateau I finally BROKE the thing!  :-)  This morning I was finally 159.4.  My new goal now is to reach 157 by May 18th, which will officially be 6 mos. post-op.

Wish me luck and in return, I will keep you ~

Posted.  :-)

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 ...

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