Usually I don't feel mega-stress during the Christmas season. I get the busy, running around, crazy feeling, but not stress. This year, honestly, I am fighting a little to feel the joy. I find myself with that overwhelmed feeling. My kids have been feeling it, too. I have talked to a few different people about it. I have come away with a nugget of wisdom that has really helped me a great deal.
Keep my priorities straight and everything else in perspective. I'll thank my wise husband for this one. The most important priority is keeping my walk with God strong. It is followed closely by my relationship with my husband and kids, and others that I love and treasure. After those, my new-found health is way up on the list right now. It's funny, but when we are stressed the things that keep us focus and grounded are the first to go. In the midst of parties, shopping, baking, and other festivities it is really tempting to set aside what seems commonplace and normal. We skip bible study, don't worry if we miss one more dinner at home with the kids, give a wave and a kiss to our spouse and hurry out of the house on to the next obligation. We don't have time to exercise, all while eating every feast and cookie presented to us because it is what people do at Christmas. This is what was causing my stress. My impulse is to fulfill the many expectations of this time of year and neglect those things most dear to me.
I will not skip bible study and fellowship because I am too busy or stressed out to make it. My relationship with God will sustain me though all other aspects of life. My biggest priority is to praise God for the birth of Jesus. Everything else pales in comparison.
In light of this thinking through of priorities, I have asked my kids for input. What is it they want? When it came down to it, they wanted to get rid of a lot of the outside stuff and just spend some time at home with the family. So often we assume they want and need these big, grand Christmas plans in order to make it feel special. Maybe they treasure more the peaceful time that could be spending with those they care about. Hmmm.
I don't even need to ask my husband. I know him well enough to know he needs some quiet in the midst of business. And he needs me as well. Not just a wife who takes care of things, but a wife who cares for him. I praise God that this is true. I pray he will always desire my time and attention.
I will certainly not jeopardize the work of the last year by eating to excess, or skipping the gym. And to be honest, it is not even tempting. I tried a bite of my husband's donut. It tasted bland and like not much more than fried sugar. Wasn't even good when compared to the rich, flavorful foods I have become accustomed to. When I skip the gym, I feel lethargic and tired. Good eating and exercise, along with my most important relationships, feed my soul.
Everything else, I will keep in perspective. My friends are also a priority in my life. I am so glad that I have the chance to see and celebrate with so many of you this year. If our paths haven't crossed lately, give me a call, I'd love to have lunch, as long as you don't mind meeting at Subway. My house is beyond messy and I've not made it to the store. I also hope you will forgive me if I don't get out Christmas cards this year. I still love you, and care about you, but my kids wanted to play a game with me. And please don't feel slighted that I had no cookies to share when I came to your party. I hope you love me and know me well enough to understand why I didn't bake any. Not this year. But I will bring something with beans or hummus in it! Finally, if I don't always answer the phone, I really want to talk to you and will call you back as soon as I can. I was talking to my husband and he needed me. Thanks for understanding. I promise to understand when you need to ask the same of me.
...Ahh, peace. And joy. Now I feel it.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
The Plans I Have
I really should be drifting off to sleep right now, but there are thoughts in my head that will not rest and words that are demanding that I share them. It is a dangerous time to give in to such a temptation. Often in the morning we regret giving in to thoughts that may have been induced by a tired mind. But, I promised myself I would be true to my thoughts and honest beyond what I am comfortable with. Sometimes the late night thoughts are the rawest, most honest ones we have, so here it goes.
This post is really more of a personal train of thought that I need to share with a woman that I love very much. (I hope you don't mind that I have made it public.) The rest of you are welcome to listen in.
I have had a frustrating few weeks. It started with the shin pain I wrote about last time. Shortly after that I began to have pain in my left shoulder. This is terrifying to me. Why? Well, those who have know me in recent years remember that I had shoulder surgery a few years ago. It was right at the tail end of having lost a good amount of weight. The shoulder had troubled me for years, but had really become quite painful and was not responding to any physical therapies that were prescribed. The doctor finally sent me for an MRI, and they discovered a deformation in my shoulder bones. In layman's terms they over curve in to the ligaments and muscle underneath. At some point I had done something to cause an inflammation in my right shoulder, making it so that the over curved bone further dug in to the tissue underneath causing more inflammation, etc. The only way to alleviate the issue was to go in and repair the tissue damage and shave off the over curved bone.
Those of you who have had shoulder surgery know this is a painful operation with a long recovery. In the aftermath of this surgery I gained all of the weight back and then some. They told me at some point in the future I would probably have the same problem with the left shoulder and need surgery for it as well. I have always been very careful with my left shoulder, trying to avoid an initial injury that will cause the inflammation that will send me on that road again.
But then about 1 1/2 weeks ago the twinge of pain began. It is far from disastrous right now, but none the less, I am frightened. I have worked so hard to get to a healthy place in my life. But here I have sat unable to exercise the way I am used to for nearly two weeks now. Between resting my shin and doing everything in my power to reverse the inflammation in my shoulder, I am having a hard time knowing what to do. I have mostly been holding a kick board to my chest and doing laps in the pool until my calves are ready to revolt. There is little else I can do that won't further injure either problem. My weight has gone up 2 pounds, but is holding there. I am under doctor's orders not to restrict my calories right now due to low blood pressure issues. So I am biding my time and waiting out my injuries the best I know how.
I met with my personal trainer tonight (only one more free session left) and she was so helpful. She gave me a bit of a routine to do out of the water, and a few markers that will help me know when my shin and my shoulder are ready for more. But still, I am scared. I am afraid of what it would mean if my shoulder doesn't get better. I am afraid of losing my motivation while I am sidelined from the game.
This is where you come in, my friend. I know my problems are small. I know that while they loom big in my own life, they are minute in the scheme of things and may even appear silly to those outside my head. But God cares about even my small problems.
I laid down in bed tonight and began to pray for you and the greater struggle you are in right now. My heart is torn apart for the pain I know you are feeling. This is what God gave me.
Jer 29:10-14 This is what the Lord says: "When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my gracious promise to bring you back to this place. 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.
We often hear just the part of this verse that says, "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. God did have plans to prosper His people, but this promise was going to come after seventy years of captivity. God had some things to teach His people before they were ready to receive what He had for them. I have told you this before, but it is time to say it again. God did not want you (or your family) to suffer. But this world being what it is, there will be suffering. He will use these circumstances to bring about a blessing. It may not be what you wanted, or look like anything you planned on. But He has plans. They are full of hope and a future. I know deep in my heart He has bigger plans than you can fathom. And know this as well. His plans are not just for you. He will bless many people you know while He brings redemption to your suffering.
As I prayed for you tonight God gave me those words for you. But He used them to give me hope as well. My God is good. He has plans for me They are for a hope and a future. I may travel through hardship to get there, but He will bring me there on a path He has laid for me to travel, what ever it may be. Because of you, dear friend, I sit here tonight giving Glory to the Lord we both love. I hope it brings you a measure of peace to know the work God is doing in me, because of you. For you, I pray He will bring healing, as well as glimpses of the future He has planned.
Everyone else, thank you for indulging me in this public, private message. Deep down I felt I needed to share it this way. Maybe it will mean something to you too.
This post is really more of a personal train of thought that I need to share with a woman that I love very much. (I hope you don't mind that I have made it public.) The rest of you are welcome to listen in.
I have had a frustrating few weeks. It started with the shin pain I wrote about last time. Shortly after that I began to have pain in my left shoulder. This is terrifying to me. Why? Well, those who have know me in recent years remember that I had shoulder surgery a few years ago. It was right at the tail end of having lost a good amount of weight. The shoulder had troubled me for years, but had really become quite painful and was not responding to any physical therapies that were prescribed. The doctor finally sent me for an MRI, and they discovered a deformation in my shoulder bones. In layman's terms they over curve in to the ligaments and muscle underneath. At some point I had done something to cause an inflammation in my right shoulder, making it so that the over curved bone further dug in to the tissue underneath causing more inflammation, etc. The only way to alleviate the issue was to go in and repair the tissue damage and shave off the over curved bone.
Those of you who have had shoulder surgery know this is a painful operation with a long recovery. In the aftermath of this surgery I gained all of the weight back and then some. They told me at some point in the future I would probably have the same problem with the left shoulder and need surgery for it as well. I have always been very careful with my left shoulder, trying to avoid an initial injury that will cause the inflammation that will send me on that road again.
But then about 1 1/2 weeks ago the twinge of pain began. It is far from disastrous right now, but none the less, I am frightened. I have worked so hard to get to a healthy place in my life. But here I have sat unable to exercise the way I am used to for nearly two weeks now. Between resting my shin and doing everything in my power to reverse the inflammation in my shoulder, I am having a hard time knowing what to do. I have mostly been holding a kick board to my chest and doing laps in the pool until my calves are ready to revolt. There is little else I can do that won't further injure either problem. My weight has gone up 2 pounds, but is holding there. I am under doctor's orders not to restrict my calories right now due to low blood pressure issues. So I am biding my time and waiting out my injuries the best I know how.
I met with my personal trainer tonight (only one more free session left) and she was so helpful. She gave me a bit of a routine to do out of the water, and a few markers that will help me know when my shin and my shoulder are ready for more. But still, I am scared. I am afraid of what it would mean if my shoulder doesn't get better. I am afraid of losing my motivation while I am sidelined from the game.
This is where you come in, my friend. I know my problems are small. I know that while they loom big in my own life, they are minute in the scheme of things and may even appear silly to those outside my head. But God cares about even my small problems.
I laid down in bed tonight and began to pray for you and the greater struggle you are in right now. My heart is torn apart for the pain I know you are feeling. This is what God gave me.
Jer 29:10-14 This is what the Lord says: "When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my gracious promise to bring you back to this place. 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.
We often hear just the part of this verse that says, "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. God did have plans to prosper His people, but this promise was going to come after seventy years of captivity. God had some things to teach His people before they were ready to receive what He had for them. I have told you this before, but it is time to say it again. God did not want you (or your family) to suffer. But this world being what it is, there will be suffering. He will use these circumstances to bring about a blessing. It may not be what you wanted, or look like anything you planned on. But He has plans. They are full of hope and a future. I know deep in my heart He has bigger plans than you can fathom. And know this as well. His plans are not just for you. He will bless many people you know while He brings redemption to your suffering.
As I prayed for you tonight God gave me those words for you. But He used them to give me hope as well. My God is good. He has plans for me They are for a hope and a future. I may travel through hardship to get there, but He will bring me there on a path He has laid for me to travel, what ever it may be. Because of you, dear friend, I sit here tonight giving Glory to the Lord we both love. I hope it brings you a measure of peace to know the work God is doing in me, because of you. For you, I pray He will bring healing, as well as glimpses of the future He has planned.
Everyone else, thank you for indulging me in this public, private message. Deep down I felt I needed to share it this way. Maybe it will mean something to you too.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
I will...
Last April I was about a month away from the finale of the biggest loser contest I was participating in. I was doing some serious cardio exercise, and had lost about 45 lbs at that point. I had already won a few personal training sessions at the gym. The trainer wanted me to refocus some of my efforts on weightlifting and other toning and strengthening exercises. Having learned that building muscle was essential to maintaining weight loss, I was all for that.
It was at one of these training sessions that she had me doing some leg lifts, the kind where you lay with your back flat on the floor and keeping your legs straight, lift them off the floor until they are pointing toward the ceiling. The muscles required for this activity were possibly my weakest muscles at this point. She wanted me to do five of these leg lifts. I tried and my legs collapsed at three. She said, "We will try again." We did, and again I could only do three. She says again, "We will do it again until you get five." So once more I tried, and once more I gave out at three.
This is were she said the words that have possibly changed the rest of my life. "Kim, you can do five. If you let yourself quit, you will know you can't do it. If you tell your body it can do five, and make it happen, you're body will know you are in control. Now lets do five." And you know what, I did five. Two sessions later I could do ten. Today, I could do them as long as I want to.
I learned a huge lesson through that experience. Having bad shoulders, I never thought I could do a dip, but now I can. Lunges and squats? Not with my knees. Now I do them while holding weights. I feel powerful, and have determined that I will never again be an "I can't." I have decided to be a "I will."
This leads me to my current struggle. Running is one of those things that was always an "I can't" for me. It hurt my knees and feet too much, and I couldn't breath if I ran even a minute. I had written it off as one of those things I'd never do. So, I have determined that I will. I won't let it beat me. My knees and feet don't hurt anymore, so it was time to begin tackling this. I started doing a few test jogs on the treadmill a few weeks ago and found it not to bad. My impatience got the best of me, and this past weekend I ran my first mile in 11 years. I was so pleased I could do it! I felt so good I ran a mile again on Monday. Later that night the shin pain set in. Tuesday I limped all day. After some input from friends I rotated ice and heat all day. Internet research has shown me what I should have known to begin with. I jumped in too fast. I know nothing about how to run properly, how to prevent injuries, and I didn't work up to that first mile.
A few people have told me that running is so hard on the body that it would be better to stick with other cardio activities. But my problem is, that I would feel as if let an "I can't" get the best of me and I am not that person anymore. The ridiculous part is that I don't even really want to be a runner. If I worked up to a 5K and completed it successfully, I would be happy to just go for a small jog now and then, or maybe even not run anymore. But right now, I need to know that I can. So the question is, is this unfailing dedication or stubborn stupidity? To be honest, I am not sure which it is.
But here is where I have ended up. In my bible study we have been studying the definition of gentleness. It means "power under control." Most off my adult life I have felt powerless. Now I feel empowered to do anything. What I lack is the control. Sure I can run a 5K, but I am going to need to exercise control in order to get there. It seems like I should know this. The same philosophy applies to weight loss and maintenance. Most anyone can lose weight. But many miss out on putting on the "control" in order to do it well, with patience and in a way that will last forever, not just give them the gratification of instant results. (Believe me, I understand. I lost weight out of control in the beginning and it felt so good, but I have lasting consequences as a result. But that's another blog...)
So now I back up. First, I will pray that God will take the reins out of my hands and give me patience. Next, I will let my shins heal. Then, I will start back at the beginning with running, learning how to do it well, finding the proper shoes, how to prevent injury, etc. Then I will work up to that mile slowly, then up to my 5K. But the point is, I will...under control.
It was at one of these training sessions that she had me doing some leg lifts, the kind where you lay with your back flat on the floor and keeping your legs straight, lift them off the floor until they are pointing toward the ceiling. The muscles required for this activity were possibly my weakest muscles at this point. She wanted me to do five of these leg lifts. I tried and my legs collapsed at three. She said, "We will try again." We did, and again I could only do three. She says again, "We will do it again until you get five." So once more I tried, and once more I gave out at three.
This is were she said the words that have possibly changed the rest of my life. "Kim, you can do five. If you let yourself quit, you will know you can't do it. If you tell your body it can do five, and make it happen, you're body will know you are in control. Now lets do five." And you know what, I did five. Two sessions later I could do ten. Today, I could do them as long as I want to.
I learned a huge lesson through that experience. Having bad shoulders, I never thought I could do a dip, but now I can. Lunges and squats? Not with my knees. Now I do them while holding weights. I feel powerful, and have determined that I will never again be an "I can't." I have decided to be a "I will."
This leads me to my current struggle. Running is one of those things that was always an "I can't" for me. It hurt my knees and feet too much, and I couldn't breath if I ran even a minute. I had written it off as one of those things I'd never do. So, I have determined that I will. I won't let it beat me. My knees and feet don't hurt anymore, so it was time to begin tackling this. I started doing a few test jogs on the treadmill a few weeks ago and found it not to bad. My impatience got the best of me, and this past weekend I ran my first mile in 11 years. I was so pleased I could do it! I felt so good I ran a mile again on Monday. Later that night the shin pain set in. Tuesday I limped all day. After some input from friends I rotated ice and heat all day. Internet research has shown me what I should have known to begin with. I jumped in too fast. I know nothing about how to run properly, how to prevent injuries, and I didn't work up to that first mile.
A few people have told me that running is so hard on the body that it would be better to stick with other cardio activities. But my problem is, that I would feel as if let an "I can't" get the best of me and I am not that person anymore. The ridiculous part is that I don't even really want to be a runner. If I worked up to a 5K and completed it successfully, I would be happy to just go for a small jog now and then, or maybe even not run anymore. But right now, I need to know that I can. So the question is, is this unfailing dedication or stubborn stupidity? To be honest, I am not sure which it is.
But here is where I have ended up. In my bible study we have been studying the definition of gentleness. It means "power under control." Most off my adult life I have felt powerless. Now I feel empowered to do anything. What I lack is the control. Sure I can run a 5K, but I am going to need to exercise control in order to get there. It seems like I should know this. The same philosophy applies to weight loss and maintenance. Most anyone can lose weight. But many miss out on putting on the "control" in order to do it well, with patience and in a way that will last forever, not just give them the gratification of instant results. (Believe me, I understand. I lost weight out of control in the beginning and it felt so good, but I have lasting consequences as a result. But that's another blog...)
So now I back up. First, I will pray that God will take the reins out of my hands and give me patience. Next, I will let my shins heal. Then, I will start back at the beginning with running, learning how to do it well, finding the proper shoes, how to prevent injury, etc. Then I will work up to that mile slowly, then up to my 5K. But the point is, I will...under control.
Monday, October 25, 2010
All Or Nothing
I am such an all or nothing kind of girl. It is not enough for me to read a book. I either need to not read anything at all, or I read a ten book series in two weeks, while my house falls apart around me. I have always been that way. When I find a new craft I am obsessed! I buy everything I can and go at it like crazy until I find the next thing to move on to.
I can't help but compare this tendency to my life right now. I decided to loose weight, so that is what my life became about for a while. I had friends concerned about the amount of time I was spending in the gym. I poured over all of the information I could find on how to eat right, exercise right, etc. So I am over the obsessive hump, but there are still a few aspects of it that stick with me. I still track every calorie that goes in to my mouth. Obsessive, or just wise? I don't eat a bite of ice cream or tortilla chips. I don't feel like it would be a good idea, moderation is not a practice I am good at. Is this a good standard for my life or am I setting myself up for one huge binge someday? I am at the gym 4-5 times a week. Can I do that forever? These are questions I don't know the answer to right now.
I am starting to experiment a little bit. I have eaten a whole days worth of food prior to entering it in my little calculator. My numbers came out perfectly, as if I had planned every bite. Maybe I can start to trust myself just a little there. I went to the gym three times one week. My world, and my return to my schedule, didn't fall apart. I do know that 5 workouts is exhausting, and 3 leaves me feeling blah. Think I'll stick to 4 for now. About taking a bite of ice cream? Hmmm...not quite yet. Still too scary. I know that one taste of Moose Tracks has never been enough. Aside from that, I don't miss it or want it, so why go there?
I will continue to pray that God will grow me to be a person who better embraces moderation. Until then I am sticking solidly to the straight and narrow. I am also sending up prayers for many women (and man) in my life who are walking the same road. Thanks for walking it with me. Stick with what you know is right, not just easy and fast. I love you all and am proud of you!!
(...I should find a little pounds lost calculator. I would love to know how much collective weight me and my friends have lost!)
I can't help but compare this tendency to my life right now. I decided to loose weight, so that is what my life became about for a while. I had friends concerned about the amount of time I was spending in the gym. I poured over all of the information I could find on how to eat right, exercise right, etc. So I am over the obsessive hump, but there are still a few aspects of it that stick with me. I still track every calorie that goes in to my mouth. Obsessive, or just wise? I don't eat a bite of ice cream or tortilla chips. I don't feel like it would be a good idea, moderation is not a practice I am good at. Is this a good standard for my life or am I setting myself up for one huge binge someday? I am at the gym 4-5 times a week. Can I do that forever? These are questions I don't know the answer to right now.
I am starting to experiment a little bit. I have eaten a whole days worth of food prior to entering it in my little calculator. My numbers came out perfectly, as if I had planned every bite. Maybe I can start to trust myself just a little there. I went to the gym three times one week. My world, and my return to my schedule, didn't fall apart. I do know that 5 workouts is exhausting, and 3 leaves me feeling blah. Think I'll stick to 4 for now. About taking a bite of ice cream? Hmmm...not quite yet. Still too scary. I know that one taste of Moose Tracks has never been enough. Aside from that, I don't miss it or want it, so why go there?
I will continue to pray that God will grow me to be a person who better embraces moderation. Until then I am sticking solidly to the straight and narrow. I am also sending up prayers for many women (and man) in my life who are walking the same road. Thanks for walking it with me. Stick with what you know is right, not just easy and fast. I love you all and am proud of you!!
(...I should find a little pounds lost calculator. I would love to know how much collective weight me and my friends have lost!)
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Till Death Do Us Part
Many things have changed for me since I have lost weight. I have changed sizes in about every way possible. I have needed new clothes. I have had to get a few transition pieces of clothing, and an entirely new wardrobe right down to, well, everything. This fall I realized I didn't even have a coat that didn't look ridiculous on me. I make it a point to regularly replace my gym shoes, so they were OK. However, rarely having the need to dress up, I went to put on my dress shoes and realized I literally couldn't keep them on my feet. They just kept flipping off! Needing them right away, I stuffed some knee high nylons (since they only kept falling down around my ankles anyway) into the toes and made do. But here's where I have run into a problem...
My wedding rings. Starting mid summer they were so loose I have had to really be aware of keeping them on my finger. When I swim or shower, I have to take them off completely, as they will fly right off. Finally, about two weeks ago I went to the grocery store and they slid right off my finger and into the bag I was carrying...twice. No longer wanting to take a chance at loosing them I decided it was time to take them off. These rings are really important to me. One is the diamond that Greg bought me upon our engagement, his promise to marry and spend his life with me. Then there is my wedding band. It is a solid gold band representing our union and commitment to one another that goes on with no end. The third ring is a band given to me by Greg a few Christmas's back. This ring represents to me the third cord of our marriage. It is the promise that God is in our marriage as well, that together we are wedded to Him...and not even in death do we part from Him. My attachment to these rings is emotional and very personal.
Since they became loose, I have flippantly commented many times that I need to get them re sized. It was more expensive that I originally thought so I had not gotten around to it yet. Just this week, shortly after needing to take the rings off, my husband earned a small bonus at work for going beyond the call of duty (excuse my taking the opportunity to brag on him, but he is an awesome employee, and frequently gives me cause to be proud). So we are discussing how this money should be used, and he decides of the opportunities available that it should be used to re size my rings. All of the sudden, I am very frightened of going through with it.
I love my rings and want to wear them again. I love what they symbolize and want the world to know I have a deep and unending commitment to my husband and my God. So, what in the world is my problem? I had no idea! All I know is I suddenly want to slow down and think about it first, or just do something else with the money. At any rate, I am left feeling very uncomfortable.
Deciding that this was just silly, I set out to think through what was really bothering me, and here is what I came up with. My rings have a deep personal meaning symbolizing some of the most important things in my life, God and Greg, (and of course as an extension of the marriage, my children). I think I am afraid of disappointing all the parties involved. From what I understand sizing a ring down is not a big deal, but if it had to be re sized up again it would begin to weaken the metal. Aside from that, Greg is choosing to spend "extra", that he earned through his own hard work, on me. What if I gain weight back. What if I have to re-size them up? In the end, I would know I had disappointed God by turning back to my laziness and gluttony (yes, I know that once again He would forgive me, but I don't want that to have to happen). I would disappoint my kids. They have changed their eating and exercise habits along with me. They deserve my commitment to the long haul. And I would disappoint my husband. He would have wasted his bonus on me. On top of that, he is proud of me. I really, really don't want to disappoint him. I treasure his opinion of me too much. I felt really weighted down by this, and at the same time foolish that I still didn't believe in myself for the long term.
With all this swimming in my head, I tell Greg that I am scared to re size my ring. I confide, "What if I gain the weight back? It just seems like so much more of a permanent commitment than changing my wardrobe." And this is why I love my husband...he replies, "don't make this more than it is, and aside from that, you're not gaining it back." Simple, straight, to the point, and full of quiet wisdom. First and foremost, my kids love me, my husband loves me, and my God loves me. Nothing will change that. Secondly, they are just rings. Nothing changes the commitments that they symbolize. Third, and something that my smaller rings can further symbolize to me...I won't gain it back. One more step on my journey, take a deep breath... I am committed to this... forever... no turning back.
My wedding rings. Starting mid summer they were so loose I have had to really be aware of keeping them on my finger. When I swim or shower, I have to take them off completely, as they will fly right off. Finally, about two weeks ago I went to the grocery store and they slid right off my finger and into the bag I was carrying...twice. No longer wanting to take a chance at loosing them I decided it was time to take them off. These rings are really important to me. One is the diamond that Greg bought me upon our engagement, his promise to marry and spend his life with me. Then there is my wedding band. It is a solid gold band representing our union and commitment to one another that goes on with no end. The third ring is a band given to me by Greg a few Christmas's back. This ring represents to me the third cord of our marriage. It is the promise that God is in our marriage as well, that together we are wedded to Him...and not even in death do we part from Him. My attachment to these rings is emotional and very personal.
Since they became loose, I have flippantly commented many times that I need to get them re sized. It was more expensive that I originally thought so I had not gotten around to it yet. Just this week, shortly after needing to take the rings off, my husband earned a small bonus at work for going beyond the call of duty (excuse my taking the opportunity to brag on him, but he is an awesome employee, and frequently gives me cause to be proud). So we are discussing how this money should be used, and he decides of the opportunities available that it should be used to re size my rings. All of the sudden, I am very frightened of going through with it.
I love my rings and want to wear them again. I love what they symbolize and want the world to know I have a deep and unending commitment to my husband and my God. So, what in the world is my problem? I had no idea! All I know is I suddenly want to slow down and think about it first, or just do something else with the money. At any rate, I am left feeling very uncomfortable.
Deciding that this was just silly, I set out to think through what was really bothering me, and here is what I came up with. My rings have a deep personal meaning symbolizing some of the most important things in my life, God and Greg, (and of course as an extension of the marriage, my children). I think I am afraid of disappointing all the parties involved. From what I understand sizing a ring down is not a big deal, but if it had to be re sized up again it would begin to weaken the metal. Aside from that, Greg is choosing to spend "extra", that he earned through his own hard work, on me. What if I gain weight back. What if I have to re-size them up? In the end, I would know I had disappointed God by turning back to my laziness and gluttony (yes, I know that once again He would forgive me, but I don't want that to have to happen). I would disappoint my kids. They have changed their eating and exercise habits along with me. They deserve my commitment to the long haul. And I would disappoint my husband. He would have wasted his bonus on me. On top of that, he is proud of me. I really, really don't want to disappoint him. I treasure his opinion of me too much. I felt really weighted down by this, and at the same time foolish that I still didn't believe in myself for the long term.
With all this swimming in my head, I tell Greg that I am scared to re size my ring. I confide, "What if I gain the weight back? It just seems like so much more of a permanent commitment than changing my wardrobe." And this is why I love my husband...he replies, "don't make this more than it is, and aside from that, you're not gaining it back." Simple, straight, to the point, and full of quiet wisdom. First and foremost, my kids love me, my husband loves me, and my God loves me. Nothing will change that. Secondly, they are just rings. Nothing changes the commitments that they symbolize. Third, and something that my smaller rings can further symbolize to me...I won't gain it back. One more step on my journey, take a deep breath... I am committed to this... forever... no turning back.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
No Pain...
No pain, no gain. We have all heard this cliche at one point or another. Most have probably used it. I heard it just last night, but it began to have new meaning to me.
I watch The Biggest Loser. I have from the beginning, and I love the show. On the night of the season premiere I was out of the house and had Greg tape it so as not to miss a thing. Later that week when I sat down to watch it my reaction took me by surprise. I cried through a great deal of it. Last night the second episode aired and I didn't outright cry, but still was teary and pretty emotional about it. I could really identify with what it was these people were feeling.
No pain, no gain. The first application of this is pretty obvious. Last night the contestants were feeling some pain! A good number of them actually throw up repeatedly during the first few workouts. I can't even imagine how hard I would have to work to make myself throw up. But they chose to stay. Sure, they have all sorts of incentive, and don't want to throw away a huge opportunity, but that doesn't mean they don't deserve huge credit. If I was still obese, not used to exercise, and thrown in to a workout that reduced me to tears and vomit, I might just have walked away. The fact that they stayed, when they could have chosen to walk out that door speaks volumes to the commitment they made to their own journey. It makes me look at myself and my commitment to my journey. I don't know that I would have been ready to face what they did at the beginning. But I feel committed, even to the point of sacrifice. And yes, I have definitely had some sacrifice. But that is another blog. So, what are you willing to sacrifice to commit to something you want?
No pain, no gain. The second application is more emotional. These people have had some pain in there lives. Again, I am not the type to feel people are victims as far as weight goes. Gaining weight is a choice and not the end result of all that has been done to you. That being said, without pain there would be far fewer fat people. I know I for one find eating very soothing. When I am bored or lonely, I like to eat. It fills my time. When I am sad, I like to eat. Lets face it, eating is pleasurable. It feels good, it tastes good, and it takes your mind off other things. It has really been a struggle to divorce my eating from what I am feeling. I am constantly asking myself, "Are you hungry? Do you need to eat now for the sake of keeping a good plan for the day? If not, do you want to eat now because you 'feel' like it? Why? Bored, lonely, sad?" Now I do one of two things when I am bored, lonely, or sad. If I can , I go workout. It is something to do, there are lots of people at the gym (or trail, or park), and I always feel better afterward. If I can't go workout, I let myself feel bored, lonely or sad. As much as I have avoided feeling these things over the years, I have found it is not the end of the world. Somewhere in the back of my mind a few years ago I began to realize I had become quite numb to many things. I have spent so much time avoiding feeling things that are painful, that I also became numb to much joy too. Inch by inch, I am reclaiming my ability to feel things both good and bad. What don't you want to feel? Are you ready to face it head on?
No pain, no gain. Over the years it has felt so inspiring to see the Biggest Loser contestants go from morbidly obese to healthy and strong. It has a happy ending. In the past when I watched the show, that is what I enjoyed. It gave me hope for what I might be able to do. But it never made me cry until last week. I thought it would be different watching the show from the other side. I have lost my weight, so why be so emotional about it? First off, I felt the pain of where they were. I had not allowed myself to feel the fullness of the disappointment I had in myself went I was at my heaviest. Watching them come face to face with the reality of their situation brought to mind the sharp disappointment I had always refused to let myself feel at my own weight gain. Secondly, I knew a little of what they had in store. They were going to turn their lives upside down. Given the intensity of the program they are on, they would feel all of my exhaustion, sore muscles, and emotional turmoil times about 100. Third, and the part I love, I cried for their hope. That is why they were doing all of this. After all of the disappointment and failures, they had caught a glimpse of hope. There is another way, it can be better. They knew this time it could be and would be different. They knew deep in their heart something had changed and it was time to leave the excuses behind and take hold of the opportunity in front of them and succeed. Deep down in my heart I have this same hope. This time I knew weight loss would be different and that hope has been fulfilled. I have other things that need to change. I love God and walk with him daily, but He wants more of me than I am giving right now. I want that too. I can feel the hope I have buried deep inside fighting to have it's say. There is a choice here. I can extinguish the hope of more, and avoid the pain of change and failure and disappointment. Or I can cultivate that hope and do the hard work, allowing God to break me down so He can build me back up. I am sure it will be painful, it will take recognizing and feeling things I would rather avoid, and it will take some major priority changes. Is the gain worth the pain? Most definitely. How about you? Is there a hope deep down that there just might be change in store for you? What is it worth to you to have it? Are you ready...
I watch The Biggest Loser. I have from the beginning, and I love the show. On the night of the season premiere I was out of the house and had Greg tape it so as not to miss a thing. Later that week when I sat down to watch it my reaction took me by surprise. I cried through a great deal of it. Last night the second episode aired and I didn't outright cry, but still was teary and pretty emotional about it. I could really identify with what it was these people were feeling.
No pain, no gain. The first application of this is pretty obvious. Last night the contestants were feeling some pain! A good number of them actually throw up repeatedly during the first few workouts. I can't even imagine how hard I would have to work to make myself throw up. But they chose to stay. Sure, they have all sorts of incentive, and don't want to throw away a huge opportunity, but that doesn't mean they don't deserve huge credit. If I was still obese, not used to exercise, and thrown in to a workout that reduced me to tears and vomit, I might just have walked away. The fact that they stayed, when they could have chosen to walk out that door speaks volumes to the commitment they made to their own journey. It makes me look at myself and my commitment to my journey. I don't know that I would have been ready to face what they did at the beginning. But I feel committed, even to the point of sacrifice. And yes, I have definitely had some sacrifice. But that is another blog. So, what are you willing to sacrifice to commit to something you want?
No pain, no gain. The second application is more emotional. These people have had some pain in there lives. Again, I am not the type to feel people are victims as far as weight goes. Gaining weight is a choice and not the end result of all that has been done to you. That being said, without pain there would be far fewer fat people. I know I for one find eating very soothing. When I am bored or lonely, I like to eat. It fills my time. When I am sad, I like to eat. Lets face it, eating is pleasurable. It feels good, it tastes good, and it takes your mind off other things. It has really been a struggle to divorce my eating from what I am feeling. I am constantly asking myself, "Are you hungry? Do you need to eat now for the sake of keeping a good plan for the day? If not, do you want to eat now because you 'feel' like it? Why? Bored, lonely, sad?" Now I do one of two things when I am bored, lonely, or sad. If I can , I go workout. It is something to do, there are lots of people at the gym (or trail, or park), and I always feel better afterward. If I can't go workout, I let myself feel bored, lonely or sad. As much as I have avoided feeling these things over the years, I have found it is not the end of the world. Somewhere in the back of my mind a few years ago I began to realize I had become quite numb to many things. I have spent so much time avoiding feeling things that are painful, that I also became numb to much joy too. Inch by inch, I am reclaiming my ability to feel things both good and bad. What don't you want to feel? Are you ready to face it head on?
No pain, no gain. Over the years it has felt so inspiring to see the Biggest Loser contestants go from morbidly obese to healthy and strong. It has a happy ending. In the past when I watched the show, that is what I enjoyed. It gave me hope for what I might be able to do. But it never made me cry until last week. I thought it would be different watching the show from the other side. I have lost my weight, so why be so emotional about it? First off, I felt the pain of where they were. I had not allowed myself to feel the fullness of the disappointment I had in myself went I was at my heaviest. Watching them come face to face with the reality of their situation brought to mind the sharp disappointment I had always refused to let myself feel at my own weight gain. Secondly, I knew a little of what they had in store. They were going to turn their lives upside down. Given the intensity of the program they are on, they would feel all of my exhaustion, sore muscles, and emotional turmoil times about 100. Third, and the part I love, I cried for their hope. That is why they were doing all of this. After all of the disappointment and failures, they had caught a glimpse of hope. There is another way, it can be better. They knew this time it could be and would be different. They knew deep in their heart something had changed and it was time to leave the excuses behind and take hold of the opportunity in front of them and succeed. Deep down in my heart I have this same hope. This time I knew weight loss would be different and that hope has been fulfilled. I have other things that need to change. I love God and walk with him daily, but He wants more of me than I am giving right now. I want that too. I can feel the hope I have buried deep inside fighting to have it's say. There is a choice here. I can extinguish the hope of more, and avoid the pain of change and failure and disappointment. Or I can cultivate that hope and do the hard work, allowing God to break me down so He can build me back up. I am sure it will be painful, it will take recognizing and feeling things I would rather avoid, and it will take some major priority changes. Is the gain worth the pain? Most definitely. How about you? Is there a hope deep down that there just might be change in store for you? What is it worth to you to have it? Are you ready...
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Who cares?
I have a picture that I have kept on my dresser for the past several months. It was one of the triggers that made me realize just how bad my weight had gotten. The setting was a Christmas party with a great group of friends last December. We are all standing in a row with me on one end. When the picture was printed and handed out to all of us, I remember looking at it and my heart sank. All I could think is "Look at how big I am," and "Really? Does my butt really stick out that far?" The funny part about my train of thought was that it ended with embarrassment. "Oh my gosh, my good friends all have this picture and can see how really fat I have become!!" It was not funny at the time, it was humiliating. What makes me laugh about it now is the ridiculousness of my embarrassment over it. I think the absurdity of it can be pinned on a couple of things.
The first is that it was ridiculous that I was so embarrassed to be seen in a picture. Did I think people didn't see me the rest of the time? I didn't just become fat in a picture. I was fat all of the time. To feel more embarrassed that people were seeing me in a picture, than I felt when I was with them in the moment is really pretty silly.
The second and more important is that it shows a level of self-centeredness and self-absorption. I told one of those ladies how the picture had made me feel and her reply was, "But we didn't see those things. You were just our friend, Kim." Of course they didn't. Do I look at pictures of my friends and pick out all of their flaws? No. When I see pictures of my friends I think, "Wow, what a great time that was," or "I remember what led up to the way we are all laughing." I was the only one focusing on how fat I looked in the picture, they didn't care. And I was the only one focusing on how fat I was in general. Aside from a reasonable concern for my health and well-being, they didn't care that I was fat. It really makes me realize how much time I spent thinking about how I looked to others, when all along, other people really weren't concerned with how I appeared. If I had anything to be embarrassed about it should be my level of self-absorption.
I think I applied the same mentality to other parts of my life. Why is it that when we are hurting or struggling, we don't want to let anyone know? "Well, they might see an ugly side to me. They might judge me. People might see that I am not all that put together." Why are we not all that honest about our faults? "My faults are not very pretty. I don't want anyone to see them. They might know I am not flawless."
It definitely takes a concentrated effort to get over that feeling that people are examining me and judging me. When I go to the gym and want to try something new, the temptation is to become really self-conscious. "What if I don't know what I am doing and look foolish?" Believe it or not, no one is looking. And furthermore if they are, no one cares. "Yikes, I look terrible in that picture!" All anyone is seeing is the good time they had. "I don't want anyone to know that I am struggling with my kids/husband/God (fill in the blank). They might think I am not a good parent/wife/Christian." Hey, everyone has been there themselves and may be able to offer me some guidance or encouragement. "I can't ask for prayer for my self-centeredness. Someone might think I am...uh...well...self-centered." Guess what? If I don't admit it, it doesn't mean it isn't true. And chances are, the people closest to me already know it anyway. Furthermore, it's not what they see when they look at me. They just see their friend, Kim. Better yet, they may begin to see their friend, Kim, no holds barred, as she really is. That is my goal.
The first is that it was ridiculous that I was so embarrassed to be seen in a picture. Did I think people didn't see me the rest of the time? I didn't just become fat in a picture. I was fat all of the time. To feel more embarrassed that people were seeing me in a picture, than I felt when I was with them in the moment is really pretty silly.
The second and more important is that it shows a level of self-centeredness and self-absorption. I told one of those ladies how the picture had made me feel and her reply was, "But we didn't see those things. You were just our friend, Kim." Of course they didn't. Do I look at pictures of my friends and pick out all of their flaws? No. When I see pictures of my friends I think, "Wow, what a great time that was," or "I remember what led up to the way we are all laughing." I was the only one focusing on how fat I looked in the picture, they didn't care. And I was the only one focusing on how fat I was in general. Aside from a reasonable concern for my health and well-being, they didn't care that I was fat. It really makes me realize how much time I spent thinking about how I looked to others, when all along, other people really weren't concerned with how I appeared. If I had anything to be embarrassed about it should be my level of self-absorption.
I think I applied the same mentality to other parts of my life. Why is it that when we are hurting or struggling, we don't want to let anyone know? "Well, they might see an ugly side to me. They might judge me. People might see that I am not all that put together." Why are we not all that honest about our faults? "My faults are not very pretty. I don't want anyone to see them. They might know I am not flawless."
It definitely takes a concentrated effort to get over that feeling that people are examining me and judging me. When I go to the gym and want to try something new, the temptation is to become really self-conscious. "What if I don't know what I am doing and look foolish?" Believe it or not, no one is looking. And furthermore if they are, no one cares. "Yikes, I look terrible in that picture!" All anyone is seeing is the good time they had. "I don't want anyone to know that I am struggling with my kids/husband/God (fill in the blank). They might think I am not a good parent/wife/Christian." Hey, everyone has been there themselves and may be able to offer me some guidance or encouragement. "I can't ask for prayer for my self-centeredness. Someone might think I am...uh...well...self-centered." Guess what? If I don't admit it, it doesn't mean it isn't true. And chances are, the people closest to me already know it anyway. Furthermore, it's not what they see when they look at me. They just see their friend, Kim. Better yet, they may begin to see their friend, Kim, no holds barred, as she really is. That is my goal.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
The art of fear
I discovered much about myself on this journey of losing weight. One of the strangest was realizing how scared I was to loose weight. It should be exciting. Maybe overwhelming, maybe intimidating. But I am not only talking about the process, I am talking about being afraid of actually being at my current weight.
I began this journey as part of a Biggest Loser contest at the gym we had newly joined. I won one of the months and received some personal training sessions as part of the prize. Our first session included an overall discussion of where I was and my goals. I told her my goal was loosing 60 lbs. (I was 40 lbs down at that point.) After all, 60 lbs. would make me the lowest I had been since college, and I had gritted my teeth just to hold on the that number. She looked at me and said, "You realize that that is still 25 lbs above the healthy range for your height, right?"
Shocked at her boldness, I stammered, "Uh, yeah, but I just want to be realistic... I've had three kids... 60 lbs. would be a big difference to me and my health... I think I need to hit that and maintain for a while just to get a feel for how that works."
She stared at me a minute with an amused grin on her face, and replied quite matter-of-factly, "No, I see no reason to stop short of a healthy goal. Your goal should be to loose about 80-85 lbs." She jotted it down on her note pad and then moved on, as if she had not just dropped a bombshell on me. When I got in the car I cried. I didn't just cry, I sobbed.
I pulled myself together and went home to tell my husband about this absurd idea the trainer had. He looked at me, without the grin, and said, "I agree. Why would you stop short? I know you can do it." I cried off and on for the next two days.
So why all the emotion? Why be so conflicted about another 20-25 lbs? I think it boils down to several things...
Fear of hard work... Plain and simple, I knew that meant real changes. Not just making sure I get out for a good walk now and then, but intentional, regular work outs. I tend to lean toward laziness when given the opportunity. I had always known it in the back of my mind, but had been unwilling to admit it to myself, much less to other people. I was going to have to admit to my laziness and give it up. As long as I am admitting unpleasant things, lets add gluttony to this point. I knew this meant giving up eating what I want, just because I want to. It means choosing the grilled chicken and rice when you want to order the Fettuccine Alfredo. (Let me take this opportunity to let you know there are some amazing grilled chicken dishes out there! Biaggi's and Olive Garden get my enthusiastic thumbs up.) I had to admit to myself I had been a glutton and give it up.
Fear of failure... I did not believe in myself. I did not think I could do it. I didn't think I could maintain it. (There is a part of me still struggling with that.) My trainer believed in me. My husband believed in me. I did not want to disappoint them. Moreover, I didn't want to disappoint myself or appear foolish when I failed. I realized I had given up on myself and needed to find a way to believe in myself again. Still working on it, but it is coming.
OK, here is the big one:
Fear of discovering who I am... This was the toughie. As a teen I was outgoing and friendly. Over the years I have become timid, afraid and shy. (My heart is palpitating and my stomach clenching as I admit this. I am also tearing up, which is how I know I hit the nail on the head.) What happened to me? I think life. You feel rejected and you close off a little bit of yourself. You fail and you protect yourself a little more. You get hurt and decide not to open that part of yourself again. Slowly, over time I have built a wall of protection around myself. (**Disclaimer**Don't get me wrong, I don't buy in to the TV show hype about "here is why I am fat and who I can blame." I was fat because I chose to live a life of laziness and gluttony. I am no longer fat because I admitted that, repented of those sins, and God has helped me change.)
Loosing all of the weight meant revealing the girl who doesn't want to be exposed and vulnerable. Without the weight I have lost all of my excuses. It is easy not to join in to the church softball game when you are fat. No one really expects you to. Now, I have to admit, I was good at softball once. I let that skill whither over time. Why don't I want to play? Fear of not being good enough, being laughed at? I used to love performing in front of people. Many of you don't know that once upon a time I wanted to be an actress. Why didn't I? My excuse has been that I was overweight and didn't want to be seen in front of that many people. Too embarrassing. I even have a hard time speaking up in front of a group of friends. What's my excuse now? I might just have to admit I fear being rejected a little too much. I also have a hard time opening up to people and getting really close to them. I don't share too much of myself too often. If I get too close I might get hurt. I found it much easier to be a wallflower when I was fat. Now I find myself with more confidence, little by little becoming more of the outgoing person I used to be. Along with that comes the chance of being hurt. Really scary stuff for me.
I don't think I knew at the time why I was so upset over the thought of truly not being fat. All I knew was that the thought of losing that much made me feel really scared and vulnerable. The closer I got the less scary it has been. I realized I just really didn't want to play softball anymore and that's OK. I have realized I still really do want to perform for people and it is still way too scary. That's OK too. I'll work on it and maybe someday I'll get there. I have a group of friends that leave me no choice but to fully invest. I love them dearly and am working hard to be open with them about what's going on in my life. So far it is well worth the vulnerability that comes with it.
And while I'm at it, why not? How about I write down deepest thoughts on a blog so that friends and practical strangers alike can read them? The fat me is screaming, "But what if you gain it all back? It will be so humiliating! What if what you have to say is meaningless? People will think you're foolish." But a new voice inside is quietly encouraging me, whispering, "What if you don't gain it back? What if you become the confident woman God means for you to become. What if what you have to say is just for you? Better yet, what if it does mean something to someone else and it is the spark of change in their life?" So there it is, my fears all laid out on the page. Some days they seem less frightening, some days more. I guarantee you I will double think posting this on more that one occasion, so for the sake of my new found boldness, here I go before I change my mind...Publish!
I began this journey as part of a Biggest Loser contest at the gym we had newly joined. I won one of the months and received some personal training sessions as part of the prize. Our first session included an overall discussion of where I was and my goals. I told her my goal was loosing 60 lbs. (I was 40 lbs down at that point.) After all, 60 lbs. would make me the lowest I had been since college, and I had gritted my teeth just to hold on the that number. She looked at me and said, "You realize that that is still 25 lbs above the healthy range for your height, right?"
Shocked at her boldness, I stammered, "Uh, yeah, but I just want to be realistic... I've had three kids... 60 lbs. would be a big difference to me and my health... I think I need to hit that and maintain for a while just to get a feel for how that works."
She stared at me a minute with an amused grin on her face, and replied quite matter-of-factly, "No, I see no reason to stop short of a healthy goal. Your goal should be to loose about 80-85 lbs." She jotted it down on her note pad and then moved on, as if she had not just dropped a bombshell on me. When I got in the car I cried. I didn't just cry, I sobbed.
I pulled myself together and went home to tell my husband about this absurd idea the trainer had. He looked at me, without the grin, and said, "I agree. Why would you stop short? I know you can do it." I cried off and on for the next two days.
So why all the emotion? Why be so conflicted about another 20-25 lbs? I think it boils down to several things...
Fear of hard work... Plain and simple, I knew that meant real changes. Not just making sure I get out for a good walk now and then, but intentional, regular work outs. I tend to lean toward laziness when given the opportunity. I had always known it in the back of my mind, but had been unwilling to admit it to myself, much less to other people. I was going to have to admit to my laziness and give it up. As long as I am admitting unpleasant things, lets add gluttony to this point. I knew this meant giving up eating what I want, just because I want to. It means choosing the grilled chicken and rice when you want to order the Fettuccine Alfredo. (Let me take this opportunity to let you know there are some amazing grilled chicken dishes out there! Biaggi's and Olive Garden get my enthusiastic thumbs up.) I had to admit to myself I had been a glutton and give it up.
Fear of failure... I did not believe in myself. I did not think I could do it. I didn't think I could maintain it. (There is a part of me still struggling with that.) My trainer believed in me. My husband believed in me. I did not want to disappoint them. Moreover, I didn't want to disappoint myself or appear foolish when I failed. I realized I had given up on myself and needed to find a way to believe in myself again. Still working on it, but it is coming.
OK, here is the big one:
Fear of discovering who I am... This was the toughie. As a teen I was outgoing and friendly. Over the years I have become timid, afraid and shy. (My heart is palpitating and my stomach clenching as I admit this. I am also tearing up, which is how I know I hit the nail on the head.) What happened to me? I think life. You feel rejected and you close off a little bit of yourself. You fail and you protect yourself a little more. You get hurt and decide not to open that part of yourself again. Slowly, over time I have built a wall of protection around myself. (**Disclaimer**Don't get me wrong, I don't buy in to the TV show hype about "here is why I am fat and who I can blame." I was fat because I chose to live a life of laziness and gluttony. I am no longer fat because I admitted that, repented of those sins, and God has helped me change.)
Loosing all of the weight meant revealing the girl who doesn't want to be exposed and vulnerable. Without the weight I have lost all of my excuses. It is easy not to join in to the church softball game when you are fat. No one really expects you to. Now, I have to admit, I was good at softball once. I let that skill whither over time. Why don't I want to play? Fear of not being good enough, being laughed at? I used to love performing in front of people. Many of you don't know that once upon a time I wanted to be an actress. Why didn't I? My excuse has been that I was overweight and didn't want to be seen in front of that many people. Too embarrassing. I even have a hard time speaking up in front of a group of friends. What's my excuse now? I might just have to admit I fear being rejected a little too much. I also have a hard time opening up to people and getting really close to them. I don't share too much of myself too often. If I get too close I might get hurt. I found it much easier to be a wallflower when I was fat. Now I find myself with more confidence, little by little becoming more of the outgoing person I used to be. Along with that comes the chance of being hurt. Really scary stuff for me.
I don't think I knew at the time why I was so upset over the thought of truly not being fat. All I knew was that the thought of losing that much made me feel really scared and vulnerable. The closer I got the less scary it has been. I realized I just really didn't want to play softball anymore and that's OK. I have realized I still really do want to perform for people and it is still way too scary. That's OK too. I'll work on it and maybe someday I'll get there. I have a group of friends that leave me no choice but to fully invest. I love them dearly and am working hard to be open with them about what's going on in my life. So far it is well worth the vulnerability that comes with it.
And while I'm at it, why not? How about I write down deepest thoughts on a blog so that friends and practical strangers alike can read them? The fat me is screaming, "But what if you gain it all back? It will be so humiliating! What if what you have to say is meaningless? People will think you're foolish." But a new voice inside is quietly encouraging me, whispering, "What if you don't gain it back? What if you become the confident woman God means for you to become. What if what you have to say is just for you? Better yet, what if it does mean something to someone else and it is the spark of change in their life?" So there it is, my fears all laid out on the page. Some days they seem less frightening, some days more. I guarantee you I will double think posting this on more that one occasion, so for the sake of my new found boldness, here I go before I change my mind...Publish!
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Are we there yet?
If you are a parent you are quite familiar with this annoying question. However, I have come to realize that as adults, we ask this question just as often. The only difference is that we have the self control not to ask out loud in a repetitive manner.
I first became familiar with this question when I became married. "Well, I'm married, that makes me an adult, right?" I don't know about you, but deep in my heart I knew simply the act of putting on an adult title certainly did not magically bestow on me the maturity to call myself grown. The question came to visit again when I had kids. "I have a baby now, so why do I still feel like I am playing house? When do I feel like a 'real' parent?" As real as midnight feedings and screaming babies are, it took a few years. Once, I had to follow through on the threat of "If you are not dressed in 5 minutes we are getting in the car and leaving, PJ's or not." I remember thinking at that point that I definitely now felt like a parent. The question reappeared with homeschooling. When I started I felt as if I was pretending to play school. I would look at the long term homeschoolers and think, "When do I get there?" I can't even tell you when that happened, but somehow through longevity, maturity, and experience, I know I'm there.
Well, I find myself asking again. I have lost weight. I've achieved a number I wanted to reach. So when do I feel like a thin person? (You have no idea how hard it was for me to just use the "T" word. I don't really think I am thin, just at a healthy weight. But for lack of a better word for the opposite of fat, I'll use thin.) Right now I still feel like a fat girl who is pretending to be thin for a while. I keep wondering when the facade will wear off, and I will go back to bad eating habits, and quit the gym. I find this really scary, because unlike becoming a wife and mother, on this one, I could go back.
I have the checklist of what I have done to get here. Yep, changed to good, non-fad eating habits. Yes, I have a good balanced workout plan and schedule. Sure, I have changed my whole lifestyle. For the first time ever I even got rid of all my too-big clothes. And I mean all of them, I don't even have a set of one-size up. No safety net here. (OK, I kept my largest pair of jeans and one very large t-shirt, but as a reminder, not a backup.) So when will I get there? When will I feel like this is my life and not just a blip I am playing at? When will I stop fearing that this is just a faze instead of a permanent way of life?
I think I already know the answer. When you don't feel like an adult in your marriage, you still try to make adult choices for the good of the union. Even if you still feel like a child yourself, for the welfare of your kids, you make parent-like decisions. On the worst days when you feel like it is ridiculous to call yourself a teacher, you still get up and carry forth with lessons. Why, because it's the right thing to do. So, I don't feel like a thin girl. So what. I will carry on with the business of "acting" thin. I will get up, I will eat the right things, I will go to the gym. Even when I don't feel like it. Why? Because somewhere deep in my head I know that is who I am now. And some day, somehow, through longevity, maturity, and experience, I'll know I'm there.
I first became familiar with this question when I became married. "Well, I'm married, that makes me an adult, right?" I don't know about you, but deep in my heart I knew simply the act of putting on an adult title certainly did not magically bestow on me the maturity to call myself grown. The question came to visit again when I had kids. "I have a baby now, so why do I still feel like I am playing house? When do I feel like a 'real' parent?" As real as midnight feedings and screaming babies are, it took a few years. Once, I had to follow through on the threat of "If you are not dressed in 5 minutes we are getting in the car and leaving, PJ's or not." I remember thinking at that point that I definitely now felt like a parent. The question reappeared with homeschooling. When I started I felt as if I was pretending to play school. I would look at the long term homeschoolers and think, "When do I get there?" I can't even tell you when that happened, but somehow through longevity, maturity, and experience, I know I'm there.
Well, I find myself asking again. I have lost weight. I've achieved a number I wanted to reach. So when do I feel like a thin person? (You have no idea how hard it was for me to just use the "T" word. I don't really think I am thin, just at a healthy weight. But for lack of a better word for the opposite of fat, I'll use thin.) Right now I still feel like a fat girl who is pretending to be thin for a while. I keep wondering when the facade will wear off, and I will go back to bad eating habits, and quit the gym. I find this really scary, because unlike becoming a wife and mother, on this one, I could go back.
I have the checklist of what I have done to get here. Yep, changed to good, non-fad eating habits. Yes, I have a good balanced workout plan and schedule. Sure, I have changed my whole lifestyle. For the first time ever I even got rid of all my too-big clothes. And I mean all of them, I don't even have a set of one-size up. No safety net here. (OK, I kept my largest pair of jeans and one very large t-shirt, but as a reminder, not a backup.) So when will I get there? When will I feel like this is my life and not just a blip I am playing at? When will I stop fearing that this is just a faze instead of a permanent way of life?
I think I already know the answer. When you don't feel like an adult in your marriage, you still try to make adult choices for the good of the union. Even if you still feel like a child yourself, for the welfare of your kids, you make parent-like decisions. On the worst days when you feel like it is ridiculous to call yourself a teacher, you still get up and carry forth with lessons. Why, because it's the right thing to do. So, I don't feel like a thin girl. So what. I will carry on with the business of "acting" thin. I will get up, I will eat the right things, I will go to the gym. Even when I don't feel like it. Why? Because somewhere deep in my head I know that is who I am now. And some day, somehow, through longevity, maturity, and experience, I'll know I'm there.
Monday, September 13, 2010
The end of the beginning...
So, like millions of people I started on a weight loss journey 9 months ago. Like millions of people this was not the first time. Like every previous attempt, I just knew this time it would be different...
Once, I heard someone refer to people like me as another "another fat chick with new gym shoes." You know how it goes. You are so excited to get started that you go out and get all the necessary equipment. You get a new workout outfit, new gym shoes, scan all the websites for new weight loss information... The big day comes. Today, I am starting. Forget yesterday and all it's last minute chocolate and cheeseburgers. You spend a day or two being so proud of how well you are doing, a month or two resentful of everything you don't get to eat, and before you know it a year has gone by and the workout clothes you bought are now too small, and the gym shoes sit forgotten in the closet. I know, I've done it more than once.
I actually lost significant weight several years back. I had found the answer. High protein/low carb diet. It was fantastic. I ate all the bacon, cheese and fats I wanted, I just had to separate, or skip the carbs! I loved that one. I'll skip the embarrassing details and sum it up. Lost 50 lbs., barely exercised, when all of the sudden I could not get past a plateau, no matter what. Pound by pound the weight crept back on. In the end I gained 60 lbs. back. 10 lbs. greater than where I began. The sad part is, I really am smarter than that. I know there are no magic pills. We are just so easily persuaded to check our brains at the door when it comes to food.
So that brings us back to last Jan. I was checking in at my highest weight ever, and yes, that does include all three of my pregnancies. I was showing some signs of pre-diabetes. Everything hurt. I had pain in my feet so bad I limped and avoided walking whenever possible, my hips and back were killing me every morning when I got out of bed, and my knees were starting to scream every time I took the stairs. Reality suddenly sunk in. This was no longer an issue of vanity. I was at a crossroads that could affect my health for the rest of my life. This was no longer a game nor something that could wait for later. I needed to change things now or accept a future filled with permanent damage to my body, including diabetes, arthritis, and joint damage. Now, let me note that I realize there are many people with these issues that live very healthy lives and no choices they have made could have changed things. I am talking about me and my choices. I had lived a life filled with choices that put me at this precipice. It was a hard thing to acknowledge, but it was the truth. So what was I going to choose?
Being only 36, it seemed hard to image a life that only became more physically painful. That left me a lot more years of pain to endure. Or worse yet, maybe I would not have that many years after all. So, with much skepticism as to my ability to lose weight well, and no small amount of grieving over the foods I would have to leave behind, I began. This time I decided I would go with a more conventional mode of thinking. I was going to count calories and exercise. I would eat lots of veggies and choose good, real foods. What the heck, it seemed worth a try, and the "professionals" always were saying that's what really works. None of my other efforts had worked, so I was going to resort to what I always had dreaded. I set a modest goal of 50 lbs. I knew this would not get me anywhere close to a healthy weight for me, but I needed something obtainable and maintainable, and figured it had to be better that where I was.
Low and behold, I began to loose weight. Did I miss pizza and ice cream at first? You bet! But I was surprised to find that after the first few weeks of detoxing from all the sugar and bad foods that I craved, I wasn't really hungry. I was eating 4-5 meals a day. I had so many veggies stuffed in to my egg whites, that by the time I finished a meal there was no way I could be hungry. And my smoothies were so satisfying how could I possibly ask for more? I came to know that brown rice and quinoa were way more filling that pasta.
The gym was a harder adjustment. I credit God for the will to get there some days. But that, too, became satisfying after a time. I can honestly say I miss it now when more than two days go by with out a good work out. My "new" gym shoes are well used. Actually, I'm on my second pair.
So that is where I am joining you. It has been 9 months since this journey began. I have certainly made some mistakes, but I can also be proud of much of what I have done. I have lost 91 lbs. More importantly I am considered a healthy weight by every measure. I am solidly within the healthy range for my height, and have a body fat percentage that hovers between "healthy" and "fitness" levels. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that being here was a possibility for me. I thought that "better than where I was" was the most I could hope for. But I have actually reached a healthy weight goal.
So I find myself in unknown territory. I know how to loose weight. I've done it several times. This time it WAS different. I went all the way. I did it in a healthy way with improvements to my diet, counting calories, and good exercise, including cardio and muscle building. But what now? I have never maintained my weight and lifestyle. I have never just gone on living like this, day after day...year after year...forever. I am done "beginning" to lose weight. That chapter has ended. So this sets a new chapter of my life. I am excited to get it in writing and see what it holds, maybe look back now and then and examine how I came to this place. Maybe someone will join me, maybe this is a journey for only God and I. Either way, here it goes...
Once, I heard someone refer to people like me as another "another fat chick with new gym shoes." You know how it goes. You are so excited to get started that you go out and get all the necessary equipment. You get a new workout outfit, new gym shoes, scan all the websites for new weight loss information... The big day comes. Today, I am starting. Forget yesterday and all it's last minute chocolate and cheeseburgers. You spend a day or two being so proud of how well you are doing, a month or two resentful of everything you don't get to eat, and before you know it a year has gone by and the workout clothes you bought are now too small, and the gym shoes sit forgotten in the closet. I know, I've done it more than once.
I actually lost significant weight several years back. I had found the answer. High protein/low carb diet. It was fantastic. I ate all the bacon, cheese and fats I wanted, I just had to separate, or skip the carbs! I loved that one. I'll skip the embarrassing details and sum it up. Lost 50 lbs., barely exercised, when all of the sudden I could not get past a plateau, no matter what. Pound by pound the weight crept back on. In the end I gained 60 lbs. back. 10 lbs. greater than where I began. The sad part is, I really am smarter than that. I know there are no magic pills. We are just so easily persuaded to check our brains at the door when it comes to food.
So that brings us back to last Jan. I was checking in at my highest weight ever, and yes, that does include all three of my pregnancies. I was showing some signs of pre-diabetes. Everything hurt. I had pain in my feet so bad I limped and avoided walking whenever possible, my hips and back were killing me every morning when I got out of bed, and my knees were starting to scream every time I took the stairs. Reality suddenly sunk in. This was no longer an issue of vanity. I was at a crossroads that could affect my health for the rest of my life. This was no longer a game nor something that could wait for later. I needed to change things now or accept a future filled with permanent damage to my body, including diabetes, arthritis, and joint damage. Now, let me note that I realize there are many people with these issues that live very healthy lives and no choices they have made could have changed things. I am talking about me and my choices. I had lived a life filled with choices that put me at this precipice. It was a hard thing to acknowledge, but it was the truth. So what was I going to choose?
Being only 36, it seemed hard to image a life that only became more physically painful. That left me a lot more years of pain to endure. Or worse yet, maybe I would not have that many years after all. So, with much skepticism as to my ability to lose weight well, and no small amount of grieving over the foods I would have to leave behind, I began. This time I decided I would go with a more conventional mode of thinking. I was going to count calories and exercise. I would eat lots of veggies and choose good, real foods. What the heck, it seemed worth a try, and the "professionals" always were saying that's what really works. None of my other efforts had worked, so I was going to resort to what I always had dreaded. I set a modest goal of 50 lbs. I knew this would not get me anywhere close to a healthy weight for me, but I needed something obtainable and maintainable, and figured it had to be better that where I was.
Low and behold, I began to loose weight. Did I miss pizza and ice cream at first? You bet! But I was surprised to find that after the first few weeks of detoxing from all the sugar and bad foods that I craved, I wasn't really hungry. I was eating 4-5 meals a day. I had so many veggies stuffed in to my egg whites, that by the time I finished a meal there was no way I could be hungry. And my smoothies were so satisfying how could I possibly ask for more? I came to know that brown rice and quinoa were way more filling that pasta.
The gym was a harder adjustment. I credit God for the will to get there some days. But that, too, became satisfying after a time. I can honestly say I miss it now when more than two days go by with out a good work out. My "new" gym shoes are well used. Actually, I'm on my second pair.
So that is where I am joining you. It has been 9 months since this journey began. I have certainly made some mistakes, but I can also be proud of much of what I have done. I have lost 91 lbs. More importantly I am considered a healthy weight by every measure. I am solidly within the healthy range for my height, and have a body fat percentage that hovers between "healthy" and "fitness" levels. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that being here was a possibility for me. I thought that "better than where I was" was the most I could hope for. But I have actually reached a healthy weight goal.
So I find myself in unknown territory. I know how to loose weight. I've done it several times. This time it WAS different. I went all the way. I did it in a healthy way with improvements to my diet, counting calories, and good exercise, including cardio and muscle building. But what now? I have never maintained my weight and lifestyle. I have never just gone on living like this, day after day...year after year...forever. I am done "beginning" to lose weight. That chapter has ended. So this sets a new chapter of my life. I am excited to get it in writing and see what it holds, maybe look back now and then and examine how I came to this place. Maybe someone will join me, maybe this is a journey for only God and I. Either way, here it goes...
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