Setting a Goal to Keep Insight

What we vividly imagine, ardently desire, enthusiastically act upon, must inevitably come to pass."
- Colin P. Sisson

When I started this whole get healthy thing I was literally sitting in a hospital bed, trying to get over hernia surgery. I should have been back on my feet in no time but I wasn't. I got a massive infection and the only explanation the adorable doctor with the Russian accent told me is, "You are too big and we don't know where it is to fix it." Well then. If that isn't being told, I don't know what is.

On that day of my life I weighed 268lbs. I wore a size 3x shirt. I squeezed into size 24 pants because I refused to admit I needed a 26. I was in rough shape, but if you looked me in the face, I would have told you there was NOTHING wrong with me. I honestly believe I suffered from body dismorphia - in reverse. Instead of being the tiny person seeing someone much larger in the mirror, I didn't see me as morbidly obese. I saw me as just fine. And good for me really. To walk around confident and happy with myself at that weight, in those clothes, and winded at the top of any flight of stairs I dared to climb was really something. I hope I am always that confident.

Since that day, as you know if you have been reading my blog, I joined the gym and Weight Watchers and I have made tremendous progress. I have lost 66lbs since December 1. But along the way I have managed to stick to my Weight Watchers Points Program extremely well. It's manageable. It's not terrible. It works. I will take it.

However, I did slack off going to the gym. And I don't mean I went less. I mean, when I went to Las Vegas in March I went to the gym, first thing in the morning, every morning before venturing out of the hotel. I lost almost 3lbs in Vegas - and I didn't deprive myself of fun. I just made good choices. But for some reason when I got back, I just stopped going to the gym. It's not fun. I don't like to sweat. The treadmill is mindnumbingly boring to me. I.JUST.DON'T.LIKE.IT.

But I have still lost weight. Not as quickly and not as consistently as I had been. So last week, after my weigh in, I had a big think for myself. What was different?

Well, for starters, I have a goal. A big one. I want to lose 134lbs. That would make me 134lbs at my goal weight - exactly half my starting weight. Not bad. Maybe a little lofty, but totally doable.

But what I had stopped doing along the way was setting little goals. When I started reaching ones I had set, like 25lbs, 50lbs, fitting into a North Face coat, walking Signal Hill (and living to talk about it), I didn't set new ones. So I have been moseying along, on the path to get to 134lbs without any little goals along the way. I guess it would be like driving from Newfoundland to British Columbia without looking at anything else - or stopping to Pee.

So I made a new set of goals. To get to the gym or do some other sort of meaningful exercise 5 days a week.  And to lose an additional 20lbs by December 1. The one year anniversary of my surgery and wake up call. 19lbs gone would give me 85lbs gone in a year - 20 gone will be 85lbs and a little gravy!

Doing it won't be easy, which is why I am posting it here. It's easy to make a goal and tuck it into your pocket. It's another to make a goal, and put it on the internet for all the world who is interested in seeing it to see. Today was a stressful day (and family I love you but please don't call me to ask what's stressful. I am busy. Kids are busy. Business is busy. Life is busy. It's just stress and it will dissipate - or it won't and that's ok too). It was so stressful that this emotional eater might have run someone over with her car to get to a cupcake. Or McDonalds. Or anything really. But I had to have a firm talking to with myself and said "Self, there is NOTHING you can put aboard of you that will make anything run smoother. You will not ever be one cupcake closer to 85lbs lost, not ever, so just knock it off and keep on."

It worked.

After dance class I let Bridget have a Happy Meal as a treat. On the way home Jamie wanted Mary Browns. I got through 2 different drive through windows and came home to cook and eat chicken, broccoli, mushrooms, peppers and a little lime juice with a bunch of garlic. Oh yes. I did. Really... I couldn't be any prouder of myself. If I didn't have that 20lb goal, I might have just said, "Sure!" to any of those things today. I will eventually get to 134lbs so one bad meal among many won't hurt. But having a solid, quantifiable goal with the a firm deadline motivated me to NOT have those things I wanted.

And do you know what? That totally clean 4 Points Plus supper I ate was absolutely delicious and as I drink my herbal tea I am totally satisfied and so proud of myself for making a goal and doing my very best to work toward it.

Fixing the Slashed Tires

Life has been incredibly busy lately. It's the middle of wedding season, it's family portrait season, Bridget started Kindergarten, and my sister's baby shower is days away. There is lots going on and keeping my goals in site has been a struggle. It's hard to admit, but doing it all isn't always possible. In those moments, it's important to do the best we can, with what we have at the moment.

Three weeks ago, on a Friday, I didn't have time to track what I ate for breakfast, and that carried over to lunch. Supper came next, which wasn't tracked. The next day was the same thing. The weekend didn't get any less busy, and come Monday, I said 'Shag it, I wills start fresh on Thursday when I weigh in'. So for the rest of the week, I ate everything I saw. Everything I thought of. It didn't matter the distance, I would go get it. I was already destined for a gain that week - I might as well make it worth while.

Well let me tell you, doing that was not dissimilar to slashing your other three tires when you wake up to discover you have one flat. It doesn't fix the first tire, and only makes the disaster harder to fix. It's not a logical way to do things. It's not healthy or smart. It was however, easy, comforting and only mildly delicious.

On August 29, I walked into my Weight Watchers meeting and stood on the scale. Immediately the receptionist in charge of the scale said "Did you eat something salty?"

I imagine she was trying to help me find an excuse for what happened. I knew what happened. I ate 3.6 pounds worth of salty, sugary, processed junk and it showed up on the scale. I ate it in private, and it was showing up in public.

I stood at the scales and it was a crossroads. The previous week had been much easier. There was no planning involved. I got to eat what I wanted. I could have just gone home and continued. Instead I walked into my meeting to pay the piper. I admitted out loud how I had gone off the rails, what I had done, what I had eaten and why I had done it. Food is the most cruel addiction. You need it to live. You can't avoid it. You have to find it, buy it, store it, prepare it and clean up after it. Then you do it all about 4 hours later.

There is a huge group of people who have supported me through this. I text every one of them, ever single Thursday morning to tell them how I did. I didn't want to send any messages that Thursday. But I did. If I didn't do it, I would give up and not get on with my journey. I would revert back to the old me and gain back every ounce and more. I know the old me. She's still a part of me, but sometimes we do battle and I have to not let her win.

I vowed that the following week I would be better. And I was. I didn't track but I kept in line. I didn't eat nearly as bad and I tried to be sensible every day. I lost half of a pound last Thursday. It was only a tiny loss, but I had to keep in mind that my body doesn't know what Thursday morning is. I was probably still processing all of the foolishness I had consumed the week before. However, a loss is a loss, and I was happy to have it. It meant I was back in control.

I swore to myself I would track the following week. And I did. I tracked like it was my job. I tracked like my life depended on it. I tracked like if I didn't, all of the weight I had lost would come join my stomach again and I wouldn't have a pair of pants to wear. To keep myself motivated I took a before and after photo of myself and kept it on my phone. Whenever I was tempted to eat something I knew was not a good idea, I looked back at the photo. Keep in mind, I love those 2 photos on the top of myself. I felt pretty and good in both those outfits. The one on the right is on my bedside table (with the rest of the family and without my companies watermark of course!). Those aren't photos I picked because I looked terrible by comparison. The ones on bottom were taken 3 weeks ago - just before I fell off the wagon.

I just got home from my weigh-in. I am happy to report the fastidious tracking was well worth it. I was down 3.5 pounds. I am 1.2 lbs away from the halfway mark of my goal (which is 134 pounds in case you haven't read about it). I have lost 65.8 pounds. In 2.7 pounds the number on the scale will indicate that I weigh less than 200 pounds for the first time that I ever knew about. I weighed in 200lbs in high school. This is uncharted water for me!

I love 5lb milestones, so having hit 65lbs was a big deal today!

How are you doing with your journey?

xo,
Amy

The Celebratory Stomach Ache

A while ago, a woman I find extremely motivational asked on her Facebook page, if we find it harder to keep on track on the weekends. I didn't think I did. When you change your lifestyle, you pretty well change everything. You can't fall off the rails if everything around you is set up to keep you on the rails. I had everything well set up and my head was in the game. Weekends could not push me off the wagon.

The day I joined Weight Watchers, I said to Jamie, "When I lose 25 pounds, I want to go to a Chinese buffet and eat my face off. I will have earned it. If anyone looks at me OR my plate, I will stab them with my fork."

I got a raised eyebrow. 

I hit 25 pounds fairly quickly and I didn't think that going to Chinese buffet was necessary, or the best idea. I was afraid that having it would derail me. Make me go back to my old ways. To throw all the eggs on the floor after I had broken one. I didn't eat my face off, I just stayed the course instead.

The distance between 25 pounds and 50 pounds is the same amount of weight, but it seemed to take ages. I steadily made progress but seemed to be in the 30ish pounds down category for a very long time. We went on vacation when I was in the 40's and making good choices when we ate and visiting the gym before we left the hotel in the morning allowed me to have a great loss on my first weigh in when I came back. The 40's didn't stick around too too long, and I hit 50 pounds on Thursday. 50.6 pounds, but really, who is count?!

I was hell bent that I was going to eat my face off at the Chinese buffet that evening. Picky eaters ruined my plan and I didn't have it. I was a woman possessed. I was angry. I could have thrown things. It wasn't a rational response at all. But I wasn't feeling rational.

We planned to have it on Saturday, and because of the timing of my step sister's surprise birthday party, we didn't make it then either. Instead, I picked, and picked, and picked at the party. I also had more wine that I would ever have consumed, but since I wasn't having the Chinese binge (why lie and call it anything else) I justified it to myself that it was OK. I still tracked all of what I ate when I came home. It cut into my weekly Point allowance (something I rarely do) but I had a great night. I couldn't take it back and I didn't want to.

Today was Mother's Day and I woke up with great intentions (and a roaring headache!). Jamie attempted to make me breakfast in bed of boiled eggs. But because Bridget had ballet, Daniel had baseball and we needed to work a trip to Carbonear to Jamie's moms for lunch I ended up helping. I ate boiled eggs, without toast, knowing that I was likely going to have something extra at lunch and I wanted to not throw bread into the mix, after my foible with the wine the night before.

Rushing to ballet was a gong show and we just made it on time. Jamie dropped us off and went to get coffee. I ordered a Honey Lemon Tea. See, totally back on track.

On the hour long drive to his Mom's, my sister in law messaged to say there was a change of plans. Instead of chicken and salads, we were all going out to lunch. To the Chinese buffet.

How many expletives can I thrown into one Blog post without offending the masses? None? Ok. I'll say them but won't type them.

Off we go to Don's Chinese Buffet.

Now, I was in a pickle. I wanted the chicken balls, rice, noodles, egg rolls and chicken wings. But I had already gone and had indiscretions last night. As I looked at the buffet line, I had no healthy option. I looked at the menu and there weren't any there either. Order modified menu items is the mantra I hear to keep in mind in these situations. Doing this at a jam packed buffet restaurant on Mother's Day was just not in the cards. It would be bad Karma to ask the cook to whip me up something NOT on the menu when the place was rocking. I've worked in food service and there are just somethings I refuse to do.

My sister in law looked at me and said, "I don't know what you can eat here."

I didn't either.

Suddenly, Old Amy came and took over my body. She got a plate of food for Bridget and cut it up. She walked to the buffet line and picked up some off her favorites. She was careful not to take too much of any one thing. She added the broccoli shenanigans because she needed to and she ate the whole shazaam. She might have even taken a breath in there somewhere. Her plate was empty and everyone else was still eating. She didn't feel bad. She didn't feel like she shouldn't have eaten it. She said, "You lost 50 pounds damn it, go get yourself another plate." Then she used my feet to walk to the buffet line again to get 2 chicken wings, 2 chicken balls and a wonton. Then she watched as I ate it like a wolf. Honest to God, it would have taken someone to restrain me to keep me from that second chicken wing. And by restrain, I mean, encase me in cement.

Then she was gone. Old Amy and all of her crazy justifications, excuses and bull crap left around the same time the stomach pains showed up. The crazy nausea mixed with the stabbing pain that made me think that I was jousting with a real knight and was losing badly was enough to scare her back to Dodge.

I am fairly sure I used up my Points for the day, and a good chunk of my Weeklies. I am enjoyed every sip of wine last night, and every grain of fried rice today. It was all delicious and I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend. And I can't take a single calorie, Point, head ache or stomach ache back.

It's done now and all I can do is move on.

Right now I have Mother's Hubbards Cupboards and I need to get groceries. This is not the way successful cupboards look. So first thing tomorrow I need to plan my meals for the week, keep my head on straight at my Mother's, Mother's Day lunch and then go get groceries. Healthy ones that will allow me to keep on track and eat the good foods my body now craves.

I have thought about it a lot since I ate it. My big blowout cheat meal was 50 pounds in the making. It took me almost 6 months to have it so it was inevitable that I would give in and have a blow out on deep fried food covered in thick sugary red sauce. I wasn't going to be able to let it go. But my cheat meal is done now. And the more I think about it it, you can cheat on your diet, and it's likely to happen. But when you aren't on a diet, and you have committed to living a healthier life, it's not a diet you are cheating on- it's actually yourself. And in no way is it worth it.

 Much love and Happy Mothers Day to everyone who is or ever had a Mother!
Amy

14 + 36

When you have been big your entire life, it does't occur to you that there can be any other way.

I have never felt small, looked small or been small. This is not a statement based in self pity or self loathing. It is purely fact. I have been bigger than average my entire life. I assumed that since I just kept getting bigger, it's how I was made. I suspected it was genetic- and that was a convenient scapegoat. I was 'big boned'. There was no arguing with big bones, especially the life preserver sized one around my mid section.

Since I started this journey, and I have faced some incredibly hard truths. I have an addictive personality and I am addicted to food. While it doesn't seem as dangerous as heroine, meth or even alcohol, it is. I love the way food feels in my mouth and tastes on my tongue. I love the feeling of being full. I find eating out rewarding, comforting and thrilling - sometimes all at the same time.

I had also had to admit to myself and others, to make it real, that I eat in secret. It's embarrassing. On an episode of the Biggest Loser a contestant owned up to the fact that they would go through the drive-through, order, binge eat, then throw away the evidence. I cried along with them because I had done that, so many times I couldn't tell you, and I had done it only hours before.

I had to admit that one day, standing in the dressing room at Reitmans, I squeezed myself into a size 22 pants. The top half of me exploded out over the top of the pants. I looked in the mirror, I panicked. What was  I going to do?

It amazes me now, that  in that moment, when the largest pair of pants in the store were drastically too small, my solution to this problem was not, "Get it together, get healthy, make smarter choices, exercise, don't go through the drive-through on the way home". It was, "I think Pennington's sells bigger pants."

To make myself feel better, I am a Maple Pecan Danish and a Double Double on the way home. Then stopped by the park to throw out the bag before I went back to my house without new pants.

It took my health taking a nose dive for me to realize that I had a real problem. Not everyone was walking around like me. Not everyone had their head in the sand when it came to the fact that they were overweight  obese. Surely things could get better, because if they didn't, they were going to get much worse.


On December 1, 2012 I had surgery and then got very sick. It was then that I realized that I needed to change my life or I wasn't going to have one much longer. In the following 3 weeks, I watched everything I ate. I swore off pop, juice and other sugary things. I started to pay attention to what I was consuming. I did not keep anything I ate a secret. In that 3 weeks, I lost 14 pounds.

When I was well enough, I joined Weight Watchers. I had been a member during university and had lost a few pounds. I knew that writing things down and having someone else weigh me would keep me accountable. I needed to be accountable. I set a goal for myself to lose 50 pounds before my birthday on May 28 so that I could enjoy shopping for new summer clothes.

It is now May 9, 2013.

I just walked in the door from my Weight Watchers meeting and made a healthy breakfast. And now I have something I need to tell you. My weigh-in book says something exciting today. It says that since December 18th and May 9, I have lost 36.6 pounds.

I am not a rocket scientist, but I can do simple math. Today that equation is one that I am so incredibly proud of.

14 + 36 = 50

I have lost 50 pounds! 

I still have a very long way to go on this journey, but in less than 6 months I have lost 50 pounds, went from a 22/24 to a 17/18 in pants. 3x to XL in shirts. My smaller bras I bought are ridiculous again so I need to go shopping. And that's just the physical side of things. My head is so much clearer, my heart is so much happier and I feel joy.

Some of you have messaged me and told me that I inspire you. I can't believe anyone is telling me those words and I am in awe. I have also received messages that tell me you can't find it in yourself to start, you don't want it bad enough, you don't think you can do it.

Hear me now...

I felt that exact way 6 months ago. I didn't know any other way. I had an arsenal of excuses. But I just had to start. I know you can do it. The only thing standing in your way is you. All you need to do is start.

Don't worry about how long the journey will take-the time will pass anyway.

Much love,
Amy

(Grimace on my face has nothing to do with excitement. It's because I am a control freak and someone else was taking the picture!)

P.S I would love you to join me on my Facebook Calamity-Amy page! You will find it here! https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Misadventures-of-Calamity-Amy-by-Amy-Donovan/299809476447

One Meal At A Time

Yesterday I had to head out of town to Old Perlican for a few graduation photo shoots. It was a beautiful day, I put on my new pants which I would like to point out were a size smaller than normal, and loaded my gear into the car. I dropped Jamie at work, kissed him goodbye and climbed into the drivers seat.

Then I got a text.

"Drive safe, and did you pack a lunch?" It was Nancy. I can only describe her as the little white body that sits on my right shoulder to do battle with the little red body that is the former me, who sits on my left shoulder.

Crap.

My lunch was at home and the clock said I had no time to go back and get it.

Now what I was I going to do.

"Find a grocery store and pick up some fruits and vegetables," she messages.

Good plan.

I get on the highway with the coffee I picked up when I got gas, and the still green banana they had at the cash register. In case of a disaster, I would be OK. I might not like it, but I wouldn't starve.

Pictures went really well and I had an hour in between sessions. Old me would totally have asked the clients where the best place to eat was. Surely there had to be somewhere with fries, dressing and gravy in a town as cute as this!

Instead I tracked down the grocery store. Now, when faced with a lunch dilemma, old me would totally have scarfed down a bag of Roast Chicken chips, a Mr. Big bar and a full bottle of Lime Crush. Then I would have found a garbage, thrown out the evidence and moved on - possibly to find the fries, dressing and gravy spot!

 Instead, I found Foodland.

I canvassed the aisles, up and down, up and down, and gathered the attention of the people working there as I combed the aisles like I was looking for a lost earring. I had real trouble finding something that I should eat. There were lots of things I COULD eat but not much that I SHOULD eat. It would all require some sort of cooking or preparation and I was not equipped for this.

In the back of the store I finally tracked down a cooler with pre-made sandwiches. On May 3, the date on the sandwich told me it was good until my birthday- May 28. I had my doubts that it was preservative free. It was made with white bread which I no longer eat, but it did have real turkey. I took it. Now, off to find something to go with it. I desperately wanted a Babybel cheese, a container of Greek yogurt, or a salad. Not happening. However, I did find a shiny 5 point apple and a bottle of water. Off I went to the check out with my healthier choices - only to stand behind a well dressed, well built man, who was buying.... wait for it.... A bag of Roast Chicken chips a bottle of Pepsi and a darn Mr. Big bar. I had either just run into my soul mate with amazing metabolism or the devil himself at the Old Perlican Foodland - there to tempt me with my former favourites!

Do you know what happened?

The man turned around and in small town fashion said "Hello". He then checked out what I had on the belt. This is when I would normally have been mortified but indignant about my selections. Today I wasn't. I had made the best possible choices.

So what happened? Did I quickly change my mind and grab up the junk that was calling my name?

Nope! I ate my sandwich and washed down the gummy white bread with the water, and then I ate my apple as I drove down the highway enjoying the sunshine and looking forward to my next session. I was satisfied. I vowed to bring my lunch from now on because though I had made good choice, there were certainly better choices - white bread and mayo do not a healthy body make.

I faced the same internal battle again a few hours later. There are very few KFC's around here any more, and I had to drive past one on the way to Old Perlican. I had to pass the same one on the way back. When I was 10 minutes outside of Carbonear, I looked at the clock. It was nearly 4:30pm. I had loads of points left for the day, and I could work a Big Crunch into my day for supper if I wanted, and still not cut into my weekly Points. But then I thought back to the good decision I had made a lunch, I looked down and saw my new smaller pants and thought about how much energy I had buzzing through 3 photo sessions earlier.

I just drove past.

The KFC will still be there if the going ever gets rough enough that I can't live with out it. But right now, I just can't live with it.

Much love,
Amy

P.S. I would love to hear how you overcome your challenging moments and what you draw from to get through! Let's discuss in the comments section below!

 

Tell it to the Universe

Earlier this week I remarked to my friend Nancy that I wanted to have a '3 week'. I lose weight fairly consistently, but it had been a while since I had experienced a surprisingly good week.

Last night I made my peace with the fact that I hadn't been to the gym all week, and I had just come back from vacation and experienced a loss. I was going to be ok if today I stayed the same, or even had a small gain as surely it would just be my vacation catching up on me. I had been good, but not perfect. I was ready to get back on track and I was sure that this was the day that I was going to have to be strong and get through it and maybe next week, I could have a good week. It would all be alright.

As I waited for my turn on the scale, I said to the lady behind me, "I am standing here thinking I should run downstairs and pee."

"Nah," she said. "A bit of pee won't make a difference."

She was right and I was ready to take my lumps.

When I got to the scale, I couldn't believe it. Last week, the scale said 221.6 and this week it said 218.6 - a full 3 pound difference. I had my good week after all - I had my 3 lb week! Even though the exercise hadn't gone as planned, I still stuck steadfast to the eating and did everything I was supposed to. And it paid off!

Back when I joined WW, I made a personal goal of losing 50 pounds before my birthday on May 28 so that I would enjoy shopping for new summer outfits. I am less than half a pound from that goal on May 2. I couldn't wait until next week to hit 50 pounds, or my birthday to roll around. I couldn't help myself when I walked into Reitman's and tried on a pair of size 17 pants and a couple of XL shirts. They were a far cry from my previous size 24 pants and 3x shirts. I can hardly wait until tomorrow for the weather to be better so I can rock my new capris at a photo shoot!

I have had in the back of my mind for a long time that I would like to make a vision board with some personal and financial goals. I think me saying it out loud and things working out this week is a true testament that speaking to the universe isn't as silly as it sounds! I think it's time I get started with my scissors and glue!

Savouring the NSV's...

A few weeks after joining WW, a great group of girls took me it. This has been instrumental to my success I think. As an adult woman, it's hard to make new friends. Even though I had just moved 'home', meeting 'new friends' was proving difficult. I have met a kindred spirit in Nancy, who met her goal last week. I am so proud of her that I cried when she reached her goal- I know she will do the same when I get to mine. Bless her heart, she sat in my bedroom and watched me try on every stitch of clothes I owned and told me what to keep and what to throw out because it was too big. It took hours, it was messy, and it was darn funny, and she laughed at me. It's those kinds of friends you need in your corner when you are facing the battle of your life.

Nancy reminds me on a daily basis to celebrate the NSV's. The Non-Scale Victories. Initially I thought it was a funny concept - and now it's one of the most important pieces of the puzzle for me. What's a NSV? Well here are some of mine!

• Bridget, my 5 year old tells me on a regular basis that 'You are losing good weight' and 'You are getting so smaller.' Those are direct quotes. I love her with all my heart. 
• Bridget scolds me when I look at unclean food at the grocery store, or dare to venture up the aisle. My doing this is showing here what not to do, even without saying it. 
• I no longer need to move the seat back when I sit in the drivers seat. Jamie would comment daily that it was impossible that my legs were longer than his and it just didn't make sense. He was right all along, my legs are shorter, but my belly was too big to sit in closer. Who wanted to admit that?
• I don't mind flying but I dreaded airplane rides. The seat belt was always about half an inch too tight and I would have to suck in and suffer stomach cramps for my whole flight so as not to admit the belt was too short or that I was too wide. On our recent vacation, I had a good 8 inches to spare!
• I can buy clothes at Old Navy and Ricki's and other non plus sized stores now. When you have spent your entire life shopping in the far back corner of Reitmans, this is a BIG deal. 
• I enjoy going to the gym now and can confidently go about my workout without wondering if people are judging me
• I can see definition developing in my arms. My goal to have Michelle Obama's arms might be lofty, but hey, a girl needs to have a goal. 
• I CAN CROSS MY LEGS! 

 It's Thursday morning and I am off to my weigh-in. I hope I did well this week, but as I mentioned in my previous post, I didn't make it to the gym at all because life got in the way. But it is what it is, and I feel much better than I ever have!

Now those are some of my NSV's.... tell me... What are yours?!

Much love,
Amy 

The Day of Wreckoning

Since I started Weight Watchers, several of my friends have decided to join as well. I am really proud of all of them, as it is a huge thing to take on. You have to have found it in yourself to admit that you need to change, and that you believe you have the power to do it. Before they join, the always ask me if it's worth it. I won't lie, it's not cheap. But I easily spent more in a week at Drive - Thru windows than I spend on a month of Weight Watchers. I always tell them, without a doubt, it's totally, totally worth it.

In addition to doing Weight Watchers, I keep close to my heart the nutrition philosophies of Tosca Reno. If you haven't ever heard of her, now is the best time to open a new window and Google her. She inspires me, every day. She has an amazing story, an amazing body, and more importantly an amazing way of getting me excited about healthy foods and healthy choices. Before I joined WW, I followed what she said, and ate clean. I followed what she said, but for some reason, I never made progress.

I would wake up every morning, hurry to the bathroom, take care of business and weigh myself. Don't get me wrong, the numbers on the scale moved. They went in the right direction, and I was thrilled. Then I would text my beautiful cousin Sara who keeps me accountable and we would discuss. But then the number didn't move one day. It was the same as the day before. And I was devastated.

What happened next was a bag of Nacho flavoured Doritos, with ground beef, lettuce, tomato, salsa, cheese and sour cream in the bag with it. It was the Rundle Park baseball tournament and this was a delicacy I could only have at this annual tournament. It was delicious and it was not Tosca approved. Besides, what did she know anyway. This damn diet didn't work. I wasn't losing weight so I ate another bag.

On that sunny Saturday morning, as I coached my son's baseball team, I lost sight of my own game. I had lost 17lbs in a few weeks. I felt better, you could see a difference in my face, and I was making good choices. My victory was overlooked and I convinced myself in a matter of 30 seconds that this wasn't going to work. I was doomed to be fat with a pretty face forever. It didn't take me long to gain back that 17lbs and then a good few more when I realized my fate and accepted it. It was 30 seconds that shaped the next few years, back in to the same shape that I had been my whole life.

What makes it easier this time?

I don't own a scale. That Saturday morning I could have been bloated, I might have been PMSing, I might have had to spend a few more minutes taking care of business. Who knows. It could have been anything. All my good work was thrown out the window because I couldn't will myself to stay off the scale. I knew it was foolish to hop out of bed every day of my life and stand on the scale. It was even more foolish to weigh in the afternoon just to see if things had changed. All it did was make me obsessed with the number on the scale, and not the way I felt.

With Weight Watchers, someone who I see once a week, weighs me once a week. Then she writes the number down and I move on. So far the progress has been good, and I have only twice had a moment of  'what's the point?'

What I had to realize and I came to it on my own was the fact that all of this is math. If I do what I am supposed to, and expend more calories than I consume, eventually, the big number in the equation will go in the direction I want it to go. If things don't go well on a Thursday morning, there are a million things it could be. And I have a full week to work that out.

Do I falter and stress about it? You bet I do. I refuse to eat anything salty from Sunday onward, in case I am retaining extra fluid on Thursday. Am I sitting here on Wednesday night looking over my food journal for the week? Yup, I just did that. Am I sitting here regretting that for the first week since January I can honestly say that I let life get in the way and due to sick kids and family and other commitments I didn't walk through the door of the gym? Sort of. Did I drink enough water? Nope. Will I be disappointed tomorrow if I weigh and have a bad number show up - you bethca. But it's not the end of the world and I won't fall off the wagon. I have had too much success and made too many good choices to have a week where things didn't go according to plan derail me. My food journal is in perfect order, I ate great, all week. I got good sleep and I took care of my family when they weren't up to snuff. As I close in on 50lbs lost, I can hope for a good loss tomorrow. But when I wake up in the morning and put on those faded old 'weigh in' capri's, I can go into my meeting knowing I did my best.

And whatever way it works out, the girls who sit around me, who I met through doing this will be there and understand. I will move on and downward next week. I might have a great week and it will be the same. I have met amazing people through doing this. The plan works for me, it's easy to follow and it makes sense. And it is totally worth every penny.












 

The Me I Have Never Seen

I have talked myself into and out of doing this so many times I have lost count now. About the same number of times I have had a similar conversation regarding a bag of Roast Chicken chips. But here I am and I am going to do it.

Dear World,
I had have had a problem.

For the better part of my life, I have been an overeater. I have also been an underexerciser. Were these two issues reversed I would be a figure model or a long distance runner or a bikini wearer. But alas, they are not. And here I am.

In recent months I have taken control of this issue. I have had stern conversations with myself in grocery store aisles and check out lines. I have pulled into drive-thru lanes, only to pull back out again. I have, more unimaginably given up cream and sugar in my coffee and now drink it black. I have called on new and old friends when the going got rough, and I am forging out a new way of doing things.

When I initially thought of writing this, I called myself crazy and my brain did that movie type fast rewind to the high school assembly where as Student Council President someone Moo'd like a cow at me as walked to the stage to give a speech. I still remember the buzzing in my ears as I tried to block that out, and speak to the entire student body without crying. Back then, I thought I was fat. I didn't ever think I was worthless, or sad, or hopeless, but the little jerk who told me I was on a regular basis, wouldn't rest until I thought I was. I can't blame him though. There were others. Ironically, I look back now at photos from then and realize I wasn't fat at all. I wasn't a stick figure, I wasn't an athlete (something by which the worth of all high school students seems to be measured), but I also was not grotesque. Regrettably, I did choose to cut my hair off in a 'pixie' cut and dye it bright red, but I can't blame my waistline for all of my issues.  So, if any of you high school rock throwers happen to be reading, read on. I would love to sit down and have coffee with you. I would like to know what it was that made you so miserable that you felt compelled to try to tear me down. I really feel like you maybe needed to talk about your own misgivings, and didn't get a chance. And I forgive you for being hurtful.

I plan to use this Blog which I previously used to tell funny stories about the foolish things my loved ones do (by all means, read away at those!) to share my journey. At each 5 pound mark I have thought about it, and decided that I would do it at the next 5 pounds. But here I am, 46.6 pounds down from my original starting weight and I haven't done it yet. Just this morning I thought, 'There is no better time that to share than when I get to 50 pounds lost.' And then I thought again that there is no better time than right now. I have always been a talker, and I have always been an open book. I also never thought that it was possible for me to lose weight. I also know that other people in my life and people I meet think it isn't possible either. But it is, and it's worth it, and if me putting it out into the world means sharing too much about myself, then that's what it means.

So here is how it started:

After 7ish years of living away, my family finally had the opportunity to move home to Newfoundland. I ran a successful business as a wedding and portrait photographer in Alberta, and I moved the business back here. I was happier than I had been in most of my life, even if my whole world was in upheaval! We had been here roughly 3 weeks when my historically finicky gall bladder started acting up. I had been to the hospital many times with it in the past and every time I was dismissed because I was overweight and had a poor diet. It always went away.

While Jamie assembled furniture, I was of no help. My stomach was killing me to the point that I would get dizzy. Kneeling on the floor was beyond painful because at 268lbs, anything besides sitting and standing were. If you had asked me on November 20, 2012 if I was healthy, I would have insisted that I was. I just didn't like to kneel down, and put together furniture. I remember going to lay down because I felt so horrible. I blamed it on whatever I had eaten and was annoyed at myself that other people were moving my new things into my new home.

We were getting settled away nicely through the weekend. On Monday I volunteered to babysit my young niece, Ellie. Her and Bridget were playing together so well that I sat down to watch TV. I had a cup of coffee and the grocery store flyers, things were going really well. Then, suddenly, my mouth started to water uncontrollably. I couldn't swallow it all and I ran to the bathroom. From there I started to vomit uncontrollably and remember laying on the floor. I think I called my Mom, but it may have been then 4 year old Bridget. I remember putting Ellie in her playpen and then I remember the cold of the bathroom floor. I know that my stepdad drove me to the hospital because I remember the look of panic in his face as I threw up into a bag on the 30 minute drive. I remember him saying he should have called an ambulance. I remember that I didn't wait 10 seconds after walking into the hospital to be put into a bed. I don't know who told them my name.

The rest of it is a blur.

What happened then is that I was admitted to the hospital because I had an incarcerated hernia and needed emergency surgery. The lump in my stomach that I had been told on multiple occasions was a lump of fat, was in fact some body part trying to escape through my stomach wall from where I was cut for a c-section. My gallbladder was and is, in perfect working order. I just needed someone to look at me long enough to diagnose that something was wrong with my stomach.

I had surgery on December 1 and then fell ill with a massive, unrelenting infection. No one could isolate where it was, or what had caused it. I ate antibiotic after antibiotic and made daily trips to Public Health for them to tend the incision and try to treat the infection. On 3 separate occasions they trundled me off to the emergency room because it was getting worse instead of better. During those weeks, I was so sick and hopeless that I was actually scared for my life. I imagined my beautiful little girl without a mother and I was terrified.

When you have been overweight your entire adult life the idea that you can change things seems like an insurmountable task. But I decided I needed to do it, even it it took me the rest of my life. I was sick like an elderly person, at 31 years old. If I didn't start I would never get there.

I walked into Weight Watchers on Thursday, December 18 after I had been carefully watching every morsel of food I took in from the time of my surgery. I will never forget that it was freezing cold outside and I was wearing black capri yoga pants because my stomach was so sore from the infection that I couldn't wear normal pants. The lady behind the desk asked me 3 times if I was Ok, because in hindsight, I was sick and weak, though at the time, I was doing everything I could to be lively and funny.

When I stepped on the scale, I was pleasantly surprised. I weighed 14 pounds less than I had weighed when we left Alberta. There is something to be said for seeing results because that 14 pounds is what motivated me to know that I could do it. I have diligently been following the plan since I walked in that room, and I am steadfast in my course to follow it through. On January 3, 2013 I joined the gym. I will admit that I wanted to punch the enrolment guy when he called me a "Resolutioner". Without asking a single question about me besides my name, address and banking info, he had judged me as someone who would pay them for a year but would stop showing up within a few weeks. It infuriated me to know that could make that snap decision about me, but wouldn't dare do it to someone who was small. I might have been there 3 days post New Years, but I was already on my way to saving my life. He just didn't have the foresight to ask. I would like to inform him that I am a regular gym goer and my recent brief hiatus had less to do with me quitting, and more to do with my using the gym facilities of our hotel while we were on vacation.

I just read though and realized how many words are already in this post and I feel like I need to wrap it up. I have so much more to say and I intend to write all of it, because as much as you may not need to read it, I need to say it. I have never been a small person, and I don't remember shopping in 'normal sized stores'. I don't remember my collar bones, and I have trouble visualizing what I will look like when I get to my goal weight. Lots of people on a weight loss journey can visualize themselves as the original version of themselves. When I picture the last time I 'felt' small, I don't have that memory - so instead all that comes to mind is a photo of me in a white outfit, with a great tan, sitting on our neighbours step, when I was 7. My goal is to make it to 134 pounds. It is exactly half of my starting weight and it is within the 'healthy' range of weight according to your BMI. I hit that number on the way up and I don't remember it, so I have no idea what I will look like. Some days, I stand in the mirror and pull my cheeks back to try to picture myself. I don't know if it's truly accurate, but I suspect I will look like Joan Rivers.

Down 40lbs in March! 

Down 46 lbs in time for vacation in April!

Much Love,
Amy

P.S. If you are on a journey of your own, I would love to hear from you! I take so much from the fact that other people have done this successfully and others are forging along on a similar path. You can reach me at islandmistphotography@gmail.com