Posted in Emotional Eating, Fitness, Food, Menu Planning, Overeating, Self-Reflection, Weight Watchers

I’m eating the damn salad.

wp-1503509607481Before I joined Weight Watchers, I made this week’s menu — breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks–all mapped out. Well, then Tuesday rolled around and suddenly my plan sucks. I was so frustrated.

First of all, Little Elfkin is eating like mad–she must be heading for a growth spurt because I was about to dig into my breakfast when her cherubic voice inquired “Mama? More egg? Please?”

“Yes, Baby, you can have more egg…”

So, I tracked one egg, one tortilla for breakfast–and it was 5 points–not bad! But by the time I got to work, I was hungry again. I stopped at the gas station and picked up what I thought was a healthy alternative–a turkey sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich and a couple of espressos. Well, no 2nd breakfast for this Hobbit! That breakfast sandwich would’ve been 11 points, which would’ve put me at 16 points, then the espressos were another 6, so just in BREAKFAST I would’ve used up 22/40 points (or 55%) of my daily budget on one meal. *fizzle*

I skipped the breakfast sandwich! Go me!

1st break rolls around and I. Am. Starving. I had 2 espressos and a cup of coffee to try to stave off the hangry but noon couldn’t come soon enough! I had a cheese stick (1 point) and that held me over until noon.

YES! I CAN EAT! HALLELUJAH!

I’d packed a yummy yummy Dole Chopped Salad kit in Sunflower Crunch flavor. It has a sweet onion dressing and a little bit of bacon, so it’s yum yum delicious.

And 22 points for the whole bag. T^T It would’ve been 27, but that number was too scary so I only counted 5 cups instead of 6 1/2 which is more likely…

SERIOUSLY, WW?! SERIOUSLY?!

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I portioned out half the bag and contented myself with the 13 points that it would be. I ate slowly. I was mindful of the flavors in each bite. I drank water and tried to stay in tune with my appetite.

There’s no WAY this is going to be enough food.

And then I stopped. I freaked out a little, but I let my food settle. I let my mind stop racing ahead and just… sat here. Honestly, I started typing this entry out and that’s what really gave me time enough to say “you know what? Maybe it IS enough food.”

So, here I am, 1/3 salad on my plate and I’m full.

Maybe I can do this. Maybe I can finally lose weight.

I need to go for a walk. If you made it this far, I appreciate your listening to my rant. So to speak ūüėČ

Posted in Fitness, Overeating, Self-Reflection

Bringing fitness back to MegsFitness

I’m a member of Nerd Fitness and have been using the Academy Facebook group for inspiration, motivation, camaraderie, advice, support, etc. for quite a few months now.

What’s cool is that I’ve even added a few new friends to my Facebook feed so that they can get sick of me even sooner ūüėČ *waves at Ginny, Robin, and Rachel*

I’m still feeling the loss of the Weight Loss Warriors. The academy, though, and the ’round the clock support is priceless.

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One of the ‘rules’ of the Academy is “never two in a row.” I can usually use it as a mantra to keep things on an even keel. Today is a total wash, but I know tomorrow will start fresh and I’ll be able to make really healthy choices.¬† The biggest hurdle is going to be stopping eating when I’m full rather than mindlessly munching just because food is available. My strategy is to eat freggies, avoid sugar, and drink lots of water. When I’m no longer hungry, I’m going to get rid of my plate and eating utensils, and possibly even relocate to a different room. I’ll get plenty of exercise walking tomorrow, so I’m not worried about that.

I also want to post here more often, even if it’s just a shorter entry. I need to track my fitness over the next twelve months and I want to be proud of what I see.

Posted in Challenge, Fitness, Food, Life + Living, Self-Reflection

End of a Chapter

I burned a bridge last night. This morning, I’m not happy about it, but I’m also not going to ever be the one to start rebuilding it. Because of the interconnectivity of the bridge I burnt with other friendship bridges, another one collapsed, and a couple more are smoldering.

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This metaphor isn’t going to last the whole way through this blog entry. Basically, there are a few things that have been, and probably always will be true about me:

1. As a water sign, I’m ruled by emotion.
2. I will drop even good friends like a hot coal if I’m burned. I’d rather have a select few true friends than a plethora of fair weather friends.
3. I call it like I see it.

These three added up yesterday and it ended up spelling the end of an era. Before I was “MegsFitness” on WordPress, I was MegsFitness on SparkPeople.

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Through Spark, I really got started in caring about my health, wellness, and fitness. I met a great group of like minded people there and we banded together as the Weight Loss Warriors.

With this group of inspiring women, I ran my first 5k. I completed the warrior dash. I started addressing my hang ups about food. And I realized that I didn’t have to wait until I was skinny to be happy.

There are a few success stories that sprang from that group. Women who set their mind and their money towards achieving their fitness goals and making it their sole mission in life. There are others who made family more of a priority. Others who focused on career first. It was a safe zone where we could, and did, talk about all of these facets of our lives.

And then there’s me.

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One of the success stories posted her own personal opinion to her own personal timeline yesterday. But it was so far from the ideals that we had held as warriors that I was appalled. With open eyes today, I see that it’s possible that she just may not have explained herself clearly. The fact of the matter, though, is that she had friends trying to explain on her behalf and not only did she not disagree, but she voted her agreement with the handy dandy ‘like’ button. The message that I was getting loud and clear was that if you’re still fat, it’s your own fault, and you should be ashamed of yourself.  There were caveats and qualifications–she’s not talking about people with a medical condition, or people who are currently in progress of losing weight–she’s only talking about people who are unhappy with their weight and refuse to do anything about it. Well, okay, but how can you tell whether someone has given up by LOOKING at them? That was the question that went unanswered the whole night. The article that was shared in order to illustrate this woman’s disgust was a blog on HuffPo about a woman’s realization that it’s more important for her to be making memories with her son than to constantly be ashamed of her body. Perhaps the unintended message on the WLWs part is that motherhood is no excuse for being fat. This was CERTAINLY the message this woman’s friends were touting.

Here’s the offending paragraph from Huffington Post:

“I vowed to myself, there in that kitschy water park, that I won’t ever sit on the sidelines again. I won’t deny a pool date because I don’t want to wear my bathing suit. I won’t skip the ice cream with my son when he begs me to eat one with him. I won’t enter calories on my phone. I will wear my bathing suit. And I will do it and remember you, the mom at the water park today — and the role model I must be for all my girls.”

And here is just some of the vitriolic response from someone who was supposed to understand:

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I went off on her. I called her out for being judgemental of a person based on looks. For not understanding that developing healthy relationships with family are more important than weight loss–but what I should’ve said is that they’re more important than burdening the next generation with the same self consciousness and shame that we had to overcome. Having one ice cream sandwich with your child on a hot summer day does not mean you’ve given up on fitness. I daresay it means you have a healthier relationship with food than someone who is constantly scrutinizing every morsel and tracking every calorie. That’s disordered eating, and it’s not healthy in the long run.

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But this blog isn’t about that discussion again. It’s about burning bridges. Of course the natural action from me was to unfriend this person and stop following their fitness page. The angry part of me also called her friends a  douche-canoe and a bitch, respectively.

Then I took it to the Weight Loss Warriors. I asked if we could have a vote on kicking her out. After all, this group was always saying how it’s safe to go to the gym because no one is judging you–and here this member of our ranks was obviously judging everyone who didn’t drop the weight like she did. I expected discussion, even agreement! But I was wrong, and that’s why a second bridge collapsed and even more are smoldering.

Some agreed with me and actually booted the member in question outright. Some completely disagreed with me. One even left the group in a rush of wtf. They wanted to keep the group whole and invite everyone back to talk, but the damage was already done for me.  I’m not going to associate with someone who says that motherhood is an excuse and deems that you’ve given up soley based on the fact that you don’t say no to a summer treat and you’re still overweight.

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I’m sad, this morning, about how it played out, and that I felt compelled to leave the group myself. They were such a huge part of my fitness journey and really making it into a lifestyle change. The good news is that I have the like-minded folks as friends on my page, and I still have the Nerd Fitness Academy behind me. I’ll be alright.

Posted in Emotional Eating, Food, Overeating, Self-Reflection

Emotional Roller Coaster

I think I’ve eaten about a cup of Lay’s French Onion Dip, and nearly a whole bag of Old Dutch Rip-L-Chips. ¬†The lays dip is not NEARLY as satisfying as the Old Dutch brand would be, but apparently that doesn’t stop me.

If you haven’t read my previous post, you don’t have to. ¬†Suffice it to say that I’m going through a pretty difficult time in my life right now and some days are worse than others. ¬†Today wasn’t supposed to be one of those days–I woke up feeling like I had made steady progress since the surgery on Friday, that I was¬†built for joy and that it would all be sunshine and rainbows from here. ¬†I was able to snuggle with Jeff last night and feel like our relationship would be okay, and that went pretty far towards my waking up in a good mood today.

But I was up at 3:30, stayed up until 4, slept in until 7, then went back to bed at 8:30.  I finally got up at 9:45am and I wanted to choose to have a good day.

Then my arms started aching–my triceps felt like I’d been doing extensions all night long. ¬†My sides ached, like I’d been doing ab exercises for hours. ¬†The top of my abdomen pulled like there wasn’t enough to reach from my sternum to my belly button. ¬†And I had the claws and cramps digging in to my uterus. ¬†In short–The physical side effects of my surgery were shouting at me to pipe down and stop trying to be happy.

I hung out at home for most of the morning. ¬†It was great, really–Jeff made pancakes, which we had with fruit for breakfast. ¬†We watched TV with the parents until it was time to actually meet up with Gloria and Mike, again. I’m built for¬†joy, I’m ¬†having a¬†good day, there’s nothing that could possibly go wrong. ¬†So we piled into the car, we drove out to the malt shop, and we got together with Mike and Gloria.

She was radiant. ¬†Her belly has popped and she is carrying pregnancy beautifully. ¬†She’s happy and her little one is healthy, and she’s excited for her baby shower coming up in just a couple weeks.

And I’m happy for her, truly I am, but all I could think about was how sore I still am; how the bruise on my arm, where the IV was inserted, has blossomed into an ugly mark that reminds me right now that I’m not pregnant anymore. ¬†I saw the back of my hand and how grey the skin is from the bruising from another needle that was necessary for my surgery, and I just pulled in on myself.
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Conversation still flowed around me and I tried to stay light, but the truth is that I felt horrible and disconnected by the time we left. ¬†Jeff could tell, but he couldn’t understand it, because I had been saying all morning how good I’m doing and how it’s going to be such a good day. ¬†We had to go to the store afterwards, and I was irritated about it, and couldn’t really hide it. ¬†So, when we got home, I said that I was tired and begged off to take a nap. ¬†I laid in bed and googled “muscle pain after D&C” and “side effects of anesthesia” and read forum posts about women who have gone through what I’m going through. ¬†I read that it was normal that I haven’t been able to¬†go since Friday and that I should just drink lots of water to help with the bloating and discomfort, but that it can last for weeks. ¬†I read that the muscle pain could be from the drugs used during the surgery that may have caused my muscles to seize before relaxing, or it could be from being moved while I was under. ¬†I read that as long as I don’t have a fever, I pretty much just need to deal with it.

I was dealing with it, I was on the edges of sleep when a friend of a friend called about the baby shower. ¬†She’d been travelling for two weeks, and drama this, yadda that. ¬†“I don’t care,” I interrupted. ¬†“If you want to help plan, be there on Saturday, otherwise, I don’t care.”

That’s not me, that’s not who I am, and she at least knows me well enough to know that, so she snapped out of her reverie and asked what’s wrong. ¬†And I confessed to her, this woman that I don’t even know, that seeing one of my friends so happy has absolutely ruined my day and I don’t know how I’m going to plan a baby shower for her, feeling the way that I do. ¬†So I cried, and I apologized, and I asked her if she could please be there on Saturday to take some of the responsibility from me, because I can’t guarantee that I’ll be any good at celebrating someone else’s pregnancy when I’m still very much mourning the loss of my own. ¬†And I felt so guilty for it, so terrible for feeling sorry for myself, and the negative spiral continued. ¬†She had plans to be out of town on Saturday, but hearing what I’m going through, she promised to be there. ¬†She said that I could still come help celebrate my friend’s baby, and that everyone would understand if I had to quietly leave if it were too much. ¬†I still have a couple weeks to figure it out…

I hate that things can’t just magically go back to the way they were before I even found out that I was pregnant. ¬†I wish that this could just be my normal monthly cycle and not a medically necessary discomfort that I have to confront with all of my emotions. ¬†I hate that there are good days mixed with the bad because I want to just move on and forget that any of this has ever happened–but having a bad day or a bad moment just reminds me that it’s true.

And so with all of this baggage left over from the weekend, I’m going to head into work tomorrow.. with my ugly bruise, and my heavy heart, and I’m going to try to pretend that everything is okay and that I’m not actually going to fall apart at any minute if someone says or does the wrong thing.

By the grace of all that’s good, I really hope that I can have a good day tomorrow, and not feel the weight of guilt, and sadness, and discomfort, when I have to look my colleagues in the eye and deal with their pity. ¬†With all that I have, I hope I can be strong enough to just not cry at work.

Posted in Life + Living, Self-Reflection

An ode to Gloria: the kindest friend

A while back, when I took a trip to Montana, I posted on Facebook how important it is to tell your family that you love them.  My friend Eli turned it into a speech and convinced me to tell my friends, too.  Usually it goes unspoken, or said in passing, but I take one of my friends for granted, and I had a very hard conversation with her earlier this week that could’ve changed the course of our friendship.  But, you see, Glo is better than that, and so this post is dedicated to her.

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This is my friend, Gloria. She’s going to be a mom soon, and her life is probably flipping up side down. She’s so very excited, and I can’t be happier for her and her husband.

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Me and Gloria have been friends since high school. Back then, I was friends with her now-husband, Mike, and so Gloria and I were in the same circles.  Mike and I were dirty minded dorks, but I always just remember Glo being sweet and funny. She was never the type to get into any trouble.

She’s still not.  We used to be roommates, and at the time, I think I underestimated how good of a friend she was. It took a few impromptu parties, many walks to the gas station, getting snowed in, and watching lots of “So You Think You Can Dance” before I understood that she’s a keeper.  I made a lot of happy memories when me and Jeff lived with Gloria and Mike.

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Somewhere along the line, she decided that I was a keeper too.  She shares her life with me, the good news and the bad. She comes over for game nights and invites us out to her place, too. She’s kind, generous, loyal, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her angry.  We don’t always see eye to eye, but she puts up with me and my over-the-top-ness without ever making me feel bad.  I don’t know if I can say the same for her.

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I’m judgmental sometimes, and opinionated, and I think Gloria has suffered through those qualities of mine.  She must see something more to me than my flaws, and I can’t thank her enough for it.  When I didn’t have any friends in the world, I still had her.

I’ve been trying to be a better friend over the past few years, and I hope she knows that I don’t mean to take her for granted, and that I won’t any more.

Gloria, you’re a great friend, with so much patience. I am lucky to know you, and I hope that never changes.   Thank you for being you.

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