It’s almost insulting that the very last photo of this yearlong series shows me posting a gain. But I have several things working against me this week: vacation eating and all its sodium; all the sitting done in the car yesterday in our vain attempt to make it to Gulf Shores (we did NOT); Ma Nature is due any day now, and my scale needs new batteries (it is weighing inconsistently–I weighed four different amounts in 4 different trips to the scale this morning). For all that I gained this week (which wasn’t much, all things considered), weight was the thing that was the least important.
I thought about all the things I was able to do this week while we have been away on vacation that I couldn’t have done last year weighing 172 more pounds.
There’s no way I’d have been able to climb all the hills I climbed.
I wouldn’t have been able to walk all over Fairhope’s downtown area non-stop like I did.
I wouldn’t have had the gumption to go sleeveless like I did yesterday. To wit:
I wouldn’t have been able to last the afternoon at the Atlanta aquarium without sitting down most of the time.
I would have melted in the heat and humidity of all the cities we’d visited for sure.
Had I not been feeling miserable today (thanks to Ma Nature’s unexpected early appearance), I am pretty sure that I would have made easy work of walking around the French Quarter today if we had elected to spend more time in New Orleans. But I’ll get that chance again when we return in November at Thanksgiving.
Tuesday will mark one year since I laid on a cold, hard operating table, got shot up full of some really good drugs, and voluntarily had a surgeon remove most of my stomach to leave me with a banana-shaped and sized gut. Tuesday marks one year since I had my digestive system forever altered so that I could actually have a chance at being successful at weight loss this time.
Tuesday will mark one year to the day that I decided to get some measure of control over my health and my life so that I might have a shot of improving both. Tuesday will mark my first rebirthday, and I plan to celebrate in grand style by getting up, having breakfast with my husband who has supported me every one of the past 11 years but even more so during the past 365 days, going to my therapy appointment at 10, and then heading to the gym to run/walk a 5k on the treadmill to commemorate the occasion. Tuesday night, I will attend one of my surgeon’s informational seminars so that I can relearn some of the things he teaches prospective patients, because I need to relearn them, but also because I need to be reminded of where I started.
Tuesday will mark one year since the day I had my anatomy altered so that I would finally be on a level playing field in the battle against the bulge. Most days, I win, but it really is a tough battle every day. In reality, the playing field is only partially level. It is like I always tell people, the surgeon operates on your stomach, not your head. That’s where the real fight takes place: in your head. Lately, I’ve been fighting the battle in my head, and I feel like I’m losing. I’ll admit that I am not perfect–I’ll be the first to tell you that–but I feel like others think so because my results have been so dramatic.
But I’ve slipped a little. Portion creep–it’s a thing, and it’s real. And as a volume eater–I won’t say former, because that part of me didn’t magically exit my body when my excised stomach was pulled from my abdominal cavity through the incision in my left side last July 8–size matters. I have allowed portion creep to happen, and it needs to stop. I have also let the bad habit of eating quickly return, and this needs to stop as well so that I can feel full before I eat too much. Mindfulness needs to return to the table, both literally and figuratively.
I need to straighten up and fly right, so to speak, if I’m going to get to my goal. I feel like I need to be more perfect at this weight loss game than I have been, but the realist in me knows this is going to be nearly impossible because it isn’t sustainable for me in the long run. But I have to find a happy medium, buckle down, and get these last 54 pounds off.
I don’t want to feel like I have failed myself.
I feel like if I don’t get to the goal I have set for myself, that I will feel this way. It is something to think about and talk about with Dr. A and my therapist. This is something I need help with, because I feel like if I don’t address it now, it will be something that impedes my forward progress. I know my goal is in sight and I don’t want it to feel like it’s getting further and further out of my reach.
I’ve done a lot of reflecting about the past year, and I have changed in so many ways, the least of which is physically. Yes, it’s the most visible of the changes I have undergone, but I have changed a lot on the inside too. I am hopeful that this latest cha-cha with the scale will stop soon so I can head closer to my goal. I’m getting there, slowly but surely. This next year will be about plugging away toward goal, finding new activities I like and can do to stay healthy, and continuing to work on my mental health.
I am finally becoming comfortable in my own skin, and that’s the best feeling of all.