I will warn you that this post might be a little all over the place. I realized last night as I was laying in bed that I hadn't written a little check in blog after my last weigh in, so I'll be doing that. But, there's also a little something I need to vent about. Let's just hope I can refrain from sounding like a complete bitch while I do.

Progress Progress!

total lost in 9 weeks: 26 lbs.
fat % lost: 14% and as long as it keeps dropping, I am a happy girl!
lean muscle gain: no change in 2 weeks

It's starting to show. All of my hard work is paying off and other people are noticing. I had one of the trainers at the gym stop me to tell me I was looking really good and that she could tell I was dropping weight! Yay! Even people at the gym I rarely talk to have made comments about it. Ah... you have to love the little non-scale victories wherever they may show up. Besides the actual weight loss number, one number I hadn't given much thought to was BMI. It's just not something I've cared about. That stupid number is what classified me as 'morbidly obese' at one time. At my heaviest, my BMI was 59. I think that's why I ignored it... just another label and way to put myself down. When I re-discovered my mojo 9 weeks ago, my BMI was 43. Technically, I was still classified at that point as morbidly obese. But now, my BMI is 39. This makes me just obese. Sure, I still hate that label, but you know what? It's a heck of a lot better than where I was before and really puts me just 9 points away from being just overweight. I'm ok with that. I know that getting to that point means losing another 50 lbs. It means finally getting under that dreaded 200 lb. mark once and for all. And it means that i'm doing a darn good job fighting for myself.

Speaking of getting under the 200 lb. mark.... I set a goal. It's realistic and doable and I am not messing around anymore being mediocre. That being said, I am going to bust my ass over the next 4 months to get under 200. It's not that far off. The bonus is summer is coming and for a girl who loves fresh produce and fruit straight from the farmers markets and farm stands, summer is the time to drop weight. My birthday is the first weekend in September. Normally, the family would make our annual pilgrimage to mecca aka going to the gorge to see the dave matthews band. This year, the band isn't touring. Instead they've decided to hold 4 multi-day, multi-artist concerts... and while this does appeal to me in a few ways, the consensus of the family is that $200 to see artists that we like, but don't love and DMB once or twice is just not that appealing. Especially when you consider dealing with the douchenozzle frat boys and skanky girls there because it's the cool thing to do and not because the music is good. So here's the tentative plan. Me and my sister are going to get in the car with tents, energy drinks, cd's and maybe a map and drive. I'm excited already! Is it september yet?

And now for a vent by yours truly.

So there I was, Easter morning, teaching one of the hardest and most kick ass cycling classes to date. People were pouring sweat, rolling their eyes at me with every resistance change and working hard. With five minutes left in class, an older woman (in her late 50's) came in. She was wearing normal street clothes (which is pretty odd for coming into a cycling class) and got on the bike wearing no shoes. Umm. WTF. Class ends, we stretch, people say thanks and goodbyes and this women starts to engage me in conversation. I'm kinda trying to rush out because I have 2 soccer games to get to, but I listen to her vent about the yoga instructor not showing up. That sucks, but things happen and it was Easter so probably not the easiest day for the gym to find a sub. I give her some ideas on how to approach the appropriate people regarding her frustration. She then says, 'so what's your deal? why are you an instructor?' I politely tell her that I've been taking cycle for 4 years, it's helped me lose a lot of weight and I like motivating and pushing others to better themselves. She asks me how much weight I've dropped and what I eat. I give her the quick rundown of how I've lost about 130 lbs. and that I dropped the majority of it on weight watchers, but have now completely changed how I eat (5-6 small meals a day, extra protein, etc...) to which she replies, 'well, i'm looking at you and i see a lot of inflammation and edema. i'd like to give you some nutritional advise and tweak your food intake.' So here's where I want to fly off the handle. I want to yell at her to shut the f up because #1 it's really not her business #2 I don't appreciate being sold nutritional advise while I'm working at a gym #3 what I'm doing is obviously working so why would i 'tweak' it just because some overweight (yes, i said it... she was also overweight (i'd say about 185-195 lbs)) 'nutritional expert' tells me to? I told her I was in a hurry to get to soccer and gave her my junk email address to send me her information. Then I left the gym fuming! I'm not trying to bash nutritionists. I'm not trying to say that I know everything about losing weight or diet or exercise. I guess my frustration is in not understanding why a complete stranger would try to sell me on changing my diet when I clearly stated that I'd lost a LOT of weight on my own. I've had a few friends make suggestions about switching diets or making exceptions to what I'm eating. Even then, I sometimes get frustrated because sure, I've struggled with plateau's and lack of motivation and with my own self doubt, but when I find a plan that's doable, I do it. Weight watchers did wonderful things for me for a long time, but right now, that's not what I'm doing. It doesn't make it any less of a plan, but what it does do is remind me that diets and nutrition plans are just that... plans. If you stick to the plan, you'll get the results. If you don't, you don't. Simple. I vented my frustration about this woman to my friend whose only response was, 'I'm surprised you didn't tell her to shut the f up.' Part of me wishes I had, but part of me is glad I didn't risk my job as a cycle instructor to put some know-it-all woman in her place. Vent over.

Things to ponder...

I have all of these questions running through my head... it's not that i'm seeking a black or white answer though. It's more that I just need to get them out there so other people know what i'm thinking. Here's a few:

At what point will I recognize that I am no longer over 300 lbs?

Will I ever be satisfied with my weight? and... will I ever get to the point where that stupid number on the scale has little meaning in the grand scheme of my life?

Will there reach a point when I will walk into a store and not instinctively go for the largest size?

Can I ever truly feel confident or will I always feel like I'm faking it?

At what point can I declare my divorce from Lane Bryant as official?

Will I ever look in the mirror and be truly satisfied?

Today will be a good day. Sure, I'm sick with a head cold and the WORST sore throat in history. My ears are plugged. I'm super whiney. But none of that matters. Why? Because today I finally met a goal I've been working towards for a very long time. Today I registered to be a bone marrow donor.

You might remember me talking about this a while back. I've been wanting to register for a pretty long time, but I've always been too big. There are certain requirements of a donor and one of them is not weighing over a certain amount. Today I woke up and weighed less than the maximum weight. It's also the first time since my sophomore year of high school that I have weighed this little. It's certainly not official since it was just on my scale at home (which I know runs about 2 lbs heavier than the doctors office). Who cares? Not me... because seeing any number less than where I've been is always a good thing.

The past few weeks have been kind of a whirlwind. I've lost someone I love to cancer and someone I knew a long time ago to another type of cancer. Through times like these, I always want to slip back into the old habit of feeding my feelings. I want to be sad. I want to throw things. I want to go buy a case of beer and some chips and put myself into a carb-laden coma. But times have changed and I'm not really that person anymore. The person who looks to food for comfort. The girl who hides behind her pizza and popcorn and salty treats. The girl who sits on the sidelines wanting to be in the race. Who I am now is the girl who will take a medicine ball to the face during training and keep working because pain is temporary. Who I am now is the girl who chooses to use food as fuel, not as a friend. The one who will push myself until I have nothing left to give. Today I'm the girl who is embracing life each and every day, trying to accept myself at face value and reaching my goals.

This is the life of a go-getta.


RIP Grandma Girlie and Greg. You will both be missed tremendously.

progress...

Slowly but surely I am working my way downward. I am just 4 measely pounds from the smallest I have ever been since I was a sophomore in high school. I'm not going to mention how long ago that was, but let's just say it's been more than 10 years. Ha!
I've put together a plan of attack and I WILL get under 240. No joke. I will then get under 230... and so on. So here's where I am at this week:

total lost in 7 weeks: 22.5 lbs.
fat % lost: 13% (yes! another 2% off my butt)
lean muscle gain: 3.5 lbs.

How can I not be thrilled about that? My body is changing. My life is changing. I realized this week while getting dressed that all of my underoos are saggy in the butt. It's really not attractive. My favorite jeans are falling down when I walk. It's almost time to ditch them completely. Today I am wearing a pair in the same size, same brand, same everything except I'm pretty darn sure that these are really a 14 and not a 16 cause holy cow, I can't breathe. Ha! Actually, they fit pretty darn well and I am guessing they are more of a true size 16 and not a fat lady store 16. You know what? I am totally ok with that. They say it's good to reflect on where you've been so you can move forward from where you are now. So here's a special little treat for all of you. It's a picture of me at my almost heaviest. I'm guessing I weigh about 350 here. Maybe a little more. I'm fatter than Santa. That will NEVER be me again.