My 9-month goal, at any rate.
When I set out to lose the unhealthy weight that had taken me from no heart disease risk to a whopping elevated triglyceride panel, prediabetes, and high blood pressure, along with a nice steady weight gain of 100 pounds thanks to PCOS, I actually thought I was insane.
Literally. Insane. I’ve been there before, so trust me on that.
My first goal was a modest one, by my current standards: lose from 315 pounds to the weight I was when I first saw Joan Jett in concert with my then whoknowswhatsheis to my now wife. The weight was roughly 230-238 pounds (I wasn’t counting that closely in 2010), but I was able to rock out in a very aerobic rock guitar set for 2 hours every night, climb the Seattle hills without a blink, and fit into any seat on any plane/theatre/nursing home/lawn party. I was still obese, but less fluffy, certainly more healthy, and not knocking on disability forever’s door.
It was May, 2014. Jett was slated to play the good ole PNE (Canadians know what this is) again like back in 2010, and I was married for almost 3.5 years.
Ok. How am I going to do this now that PCOS has rendered me unable to walk, I’ve just had a total hysterectomy, and I have been stuffing myself full of pasta, rice, vegan cheese, and chips? How?
What happens to people who have gastric bypass surgery? The way they must eat 2-3 bites at a time, and graze all day, but begin on a meager diet in the first “phase” of their plans? Sure! I’ll mimic that!
I actually was in the high 220s by the time Joan rolled into town toward the end of the summer, and in control of my eating. I stopped the radical mimicry diet 1.5 months in, as I didn’t need to go that far, but it had “rebooted” me, so to speak. I no longer craved saturated, salty, carby, fatty foods, and I didn’t have the habit of eating 1/2 pound of cooked pasta with an entire wedge of vegan cheese for breakfast (the rest of the day was no better, trust me).
Next up was my big European trip, slated to start in October. I wanted to be in the solid low 200s by the time of my next birthday (December), and chose a modest goal of just not gaining weight before the trip (it was now August), and trying not to gain too much weight in ooey gooey Switzerland.
I lost 4 pounds in Europe, and ate not one shaving of chocolate. Granted, I ate out at raw vegan restaurants, imbibed once in Icelandic Vodka, and even ate fatty vegan fresh French cabbage and carrot salads, but I made it. I also finally was able to start really moving with all of the walking it takes to get around on a non-Wal-Mart continent.
I came back in November ready for “One-derland”. My birthday would need to be the time, at last! I had not weight in the 190s since I was 23 years old (that was mid 1990s), and then it was 198 pounds. And I had gotten there by starving myself.
I was now eating 3 squares a day, 2-3 snacks, eating when I was hungry, exercising every day, and I began to log it all via Map My Walk and My Fitness Pal. Thank GOD for iPhones!
December 13, 2014, my departed grandmother’s birthday, was the day I had lost enough pounds, taking me into the 100s. FOR GOOD, GOOD GOD LET IT BE SO I thought as I nodded my head in approval of the last first number I would have to watch change on the est friend of the hour: that ole scale.
Not one to dance on my laurels, I made sure that number stuck by continuing to be accountable during the holidays. Sheesh! Meal after meal after MAKE IT STOP! Woman on a mission here to health who doesn’t eat emotionally, and UGH!
And here we are.
My first “Big” girl goal was to weigh 175 pounds. I just threw that number out there in my head in May, 2014. It seemed ridiculous at the time, a number I recalled starving myself down to from 286 pounds in my late teens. It had been a stopover to the crazy world of <138 pounds on my then 5’10” frame. I am not a tiny bird skeleton person. I have a whale-y rib cage (and the pipes to go with it), and that was insane. I was a women’s size 4 by the time I started putting weight back on due to reflex binging and the bulimia/binge eating disorder that came along with it.
This 175 is ALL MINE. I earned every pound of it.
My final, one year goal, meaning forever weight, is `167.5. Yep, .5. That makes for 50% of my body weight lost, and puts me just under the high side of “normal” for my now height of 5’9″. I’m sure I am there now if you don’t count the excess skin, but let’s make this officially official, ok?
So much to say. So much to talk about as I ponder the next phase, AKA L.I.F.E. maintaining this weight, and gaining muscle/fitness.
I am over the moon. I can do anything. I am COMPETENT.
I. Am. Normal.