As of yesterday, I’m down a hair over 85 pounds. And I feel fantastic.
The weight loss is noticeable enough now that people are starting to ask questions. Not everyone I work with knows that I had surgery, but bear in mind I also work with 400 other faculty and staff–the school where I work is incredibly large. And because it is so large, I don’t see most of the faculty I work with on a regular basis; I am mostly confined to my little corner of the world where I work and interact with about 8 other teachers on a regular basis.
For the folks that know I’ve had surgery, I get asked more and more lately, “How much have you lost?” This is not a question I mind answering. I am excited to answer it because the comments that usually follow are complimentary and are often followed by things like:
“You are looking really good!”
“You look fantastic!”
Who could ever tire of being told those things on the regular? Not me!
The question I do mind answering is, “How much do you have to lose?”
I suppose the reason that one chaps my hide a little and puts me on the defensive is that it’s a tacit admission of just how much I let myself go.
How I let myself balloon up to nearly 440 pounds at one point. No lie, admitting THAT publicly was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Freeing, but very, very difficult.
How I simply did not care about my health and just allowed my brain and my hands to feed me whatever they felt like eating instead of what my body really needed.
How I allowed a year-long bout with depression to consume me and envelop me in layers of fat due to self-medication with food instead of therapy and meaningful conversation.
How I kept telling myself that I’d start in earnest at New Year’s to get healthy and lose weight and exercise but then never following through or sticking to any plan I’d formulated or paid for.
How I allowed myself to be idle and sedentary for so long, causing so much damage to this body I was given 40 years ago.
Yet I have a ticker on the right side of my blog that tells the world exactly how much weight I have left to lose, and how much weight I’ve lost to date. It’s an interesting dichotomy, that ticker. I debated for a long time whether or not to even put it out there. I finally decided to put it there because if I was going to be authentic and real, that I needed to share as much as I was comfortable sharing so that others could learn from my experiences as a WLS patient.
But I’m not comfortable talking about the sheer quantity of weight I have to lose face to face with someone. Odd, really. Perhaps it’s the relative anonymity with which the internet operates that makes me feel more comfortable with saying “why yes, I have to lose 227 pounds to get to my goal, which still puts me at obese, but hey, at least I won’t be super morbidly obese then!”
Or maybe it’s the admission of just how much weight I have to lose that bothers me. I’m more comfortable admitting that I have 140ish more pounds to lose than I am admitting that I have to lose a total of 225+ pounds. And that’s from my start weight. If I think about it, I will have lost 270 pounds from my heaviest weight by the time I get to my goal. Now that number is stupefying. Why? It’s nearly 300 pounds. Two grown adults.
I don’t know. But it’s there, on the right, for any and all to see. I just can’t say it out loud. At least not to the hoi polloi.
Let’s talk about food–it’s easier.
Today was a fantastic protein day: 94 grams.
Tomorrow looks to be a long, long day as I have to be at school before 7:30 (!) for PSAT training, and then I have a standing therapy appointment at 7 pm. Sometime in there, I’m teaching school, and generally being a rockstar at work, trying to be a good wife and partner, and maybe sneaking in a good facial scrub and mask. I’ve worked hard this week already and I’ve earned it, dammit.