My Turning Point

In my last health post, Coming Clean, I mentioned that I have relapsed so many times.  Two years ago, my friend Natalie and I were working very hard to lose weight and to get into shape.  I lost nearly 30 pounds in a matter of a few months.  That summer, I hadn't worked out a solution of how I was going to handle having my son home all summer and exercise, and so I didn't.  That fall I ran my first 5K with my brother and sister-in-law.  It was a very emotional experience, and one that I will always treasure.  They ran for me and with me that race.  It was my "Biggest Loser" moment.

The moment didn't last.  I fell back into my habits, and within a year and a half, I gained all of my weight back plus some.  I yo-yo-ed up and down: counting my calories, running sometimes, and then relapsing back into old habits of eating and eating.  I used becoming Parent Council president (aka PTO President) and having a newborn unexpectedly as excuses to why I was gaining weight. I was so focused on controlling those new aspects in my life that my health fell apart.

I was not happy with the way things were going, and I was starting to resign myself to the fact that I'll probably be big my whole life.  I'll probably yo-yo my whole life.  But did I want that?  NO! I have seen the long-term health effects in my family, and I don't want that.  I want to be healthy and strong.  I don't want 50 to feel like 70.  I don't want 40 to feel like 50.  I knew I had to change, and this fall, I began praying fervently again for that courage and self-control. 

In the fall, I began reading the Miracle of Forgiveness by Spencer W. Kimball.  (You really have to start that book, put it down, and then start again because it is intense.)  In one of the chapters,  President Kimball talks about quitting bad habits and overcoming serious sins (i.e., sexual transgression, pornography, etc.), and since I have never struggled with those issues, I applied it to my own life.  A  couple of passages struck me with such force that I knew I had to finally change for good -- make it stick, and never look back.

The first passage is the one I quoted in my first post:
 

“The first and greatest victory is to conquer yourself; to be conquered by yourself is of all things most shameful and vile.”  ~Plato

I was letting my body conquer my spirit.  I was tired of giving in to my cravings and caving by binging on sweets and putting awful things into my body.

The second passage taught me that if I want to live with my Father in Heaven again, then I need to find a way to conquer myself.  If I don't, I'm not worthy to be with him again.

"It is imperative that when one has once put his feet on the path to recovery and mastery there must be no turning back. 'No man,' said the Savior, 'having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.'" 

I couldn't use weakness as an excuse anymore. There is no more turning back.  Each time I do, it gets harder.  It was time I made a conscious decision and stuck with it.

The entire point of coming to earth is learning to mesh our spirits with our body.  By combining our spiritual strengths and our physical senses to become perfect beings just as God is.  We can not be whole just as spiritual or temporal beings; two must become one.

I began researching and digging more into blogs and websites with healthy foods and habits.  I needed to find a way to overcome my addiction.  I decided that I needed to read and study the 12-Step Addiction Recovery Program published by the LDS Church (which is adapted from the AA program, by the way).  The first step is "Honesty," and I was just beginning embrace where I was in my life and that I needed to change.

I found a support group and a challenge through The Gracious Pantry.  The author, Tiffany, hosts a No-Sugar Challenge, and I read and studied it.  It was exactly what I needed.  I joined her group on Facebook, and I have now been sugar-free for 30 days!!!  Technically, the challenge is over, but I must keep on my journey, and I will explain more in another post.

For now, you need to know that my life has changed, and I hope to keep on this turning point and never turn back.  I have lost 11 pounds this month mainly from watching what I'm eating.  My family in general is eating better.  And if you wonder, no, I did not eat, lick, or even sample Jackson's birthday cake; and even better, he knew I wouldn't, and he has been one of my biggest supporters through it all.

Today I celebrated and got my hair done since I don't eat cakes, donuts, or candy, I couldn't use food as an incentive.  Instead, I did something for myself.  I love the new style, and I'm happy.  Here's the 11-pound lighter me:

Next up:  True Change and Opposition

Coming Clean

“The first and greatest victory is to conquer yourself; to be conquered by yourself is of all things most shameful and vile.”  ~Plato

I have started writing this post several times over the last month, erased my thoughts, and started over again.  When we write about something so very personal, it can be really hard to expose ourselves. This is a serious issue for me, and one that will have life long effects, and one I hope to change.

The past few months I've been reading some books that have made me take a good, hard look into my life and into who I am and what makes me tick.  I realized that I have a big problem with self-control.  I also realized that this is a personality trait that I inherited.  It's obvious it runs in my family, but it affects my siblings and me in different ways.  For me, I tend to yell a lot at my kids and overreact.  It seems I have a short temper. You'd think I'm hormonal or something. . .oh, wait. . .

I'm not sure when I realized it because the recognition has been blooming for quite some time, but this year I finally accepted that I have a sugar addiction.  When I thought about my self-control issues, the sugar addiction no longer seemed unexplained.  Before you dismiss that this is just a silly addiction or laugh about it, let's talk about what an addiction is. 

ad·dic·tion

noun \ə-ˈdik-shən\   (Medical Dictionary)

Medical Definition of ADDICTION

: compulsive physiological need for and use of a habit-forming substance (as heroin, nicotine, or alcohol) characterized by tolerance and by well-defined physiological symptoms upon withdrawal; broadly : persistent compulsive use of a substance known by the user to be physically, psychologically, or socially harmful—compare habituation  

(source: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/addiction)

What words stand out to you?  Compulsive? Physiological need? Persistent use?

Let's be honest.  When we think of addictions, we can usually point out the obvious ones that plague our society:  drugs, alcohol, pornography, hoarding (don't think it's real -- just watch one episode of "Hoarders" -- it's real all right!), shopping, over-eating, anorexia, video games, and many others.  I would say I was addicted to over-eating, but I knew it was more than that.

Lest you tell me something dismissive like, "Oh, I can't say 'no' to sugar either," or "You should just limit yourself to one treat a week," or "Sugar isn't all bad, you're just following a fad," let me share some addictive behaviors with you and what mine have been.  Most of these come from a couple of websites including this one: http://www.indiana.edu/~engs/hints/addictiveb.html  and this one: http://www.erikbohlin.net/Handouts/personality_traits_of_addiction.htm

• They will seek it out, or engage in the behavior even though it is causing harm.  I have been substantially overweight for over 10 years.  I remember when the doctor told me that I was "obese" over 8 years ago.  You tell me that isn't hard hard to hear.  I knew that what I was eating wasn't good, but when I was stressed out, I bought cookies, snack cakes, or candy bars to relieve it.
• The person will compulsively engage in the activity, that is, do the activity over and over even if he/she does not want to and find it difficult to stop.  I would find myself eating the leftovers from my kids or grabbing handfuls of cookies, candy, or chocolate chips just because it was a habit.  I'd find myself in the pantry or fridge and wonder what I was doing.
• The person does not appear to have control as to when, how long, or how much he or she will continue the behavior (loss of control). (They drink 6 beers when they only wanted one, buy 8 pairs of shoes when they only needed a belt, ate the whole box of cookies, etc).  Uh, easy:  That box of Little Debbie Snack cakes was usually gone before I got home from the grocery store.  Cookies never lasted more than a day or two; candy bars didn't stand a chance.
  
• He/she often denies problems resulting from his/her engagement in the behavior, even though others can see the negative effects. Minimizing—is the coping mechanism of acknowledging something, but making it “not that big of a thing.”  They often feel that people are making “a mountain out of a mole hill.”  I would tell my friends and family that I could stop at any moment.  I just needed to exercise more.  I really didn't eat that much or that badly.
• Person hides the behavior after family or close friends have mentioned their concern. (hides food under beds, alcohol bottles in closets, doesn't show spouse credit card bills, etc).  That box of Little Debbie snack cakes was usually thrown away in the outside trash where my husband couldn't find it or buried in the bottom of the kitchen trash can.  The box of Girl Scout cookies that I saved for myself was hidden in my dress drawer.  I knew how to eat right in front of others by ordering salads or low fat meals to make it look like I was getting a handle on my diet.
• Individuals with addictive behaviors often have low self esteem, feel anxious if they do not have control over their environment, and come from psychologically or physically abusive families. This one is a little more difficult to talk about.  I don't think I've completely loved all of myself ever since I was. . . well, ever.  My greatest weakness is comparing myself to others.  When I was a little girl, I wanted to be my friends because then maybe my brothers wouldn't pick on me.  When I was older, I wanted to be the girl across town because she won all of the contests and all of the boys liked her.  When I was in college, I decided that I couldn't compete with BYU students, and so I just did minimal activities in college.  As an adult, well, we all know that this could go a million angles.  Basically, though, the absolute hardest part is the control:  I have struggled knowing how to be a parent of a child with high-functioning autism and being the perfect adoptive parent.  Most of you have heard my struggles with homework or other scenarios with Jackson.  When I would lose control, I immediately would yell and then grab something high in calories to eat and take away the stress.  As for the abuse part, well, I can't say that I came from an abusive home, so please don't think that I mean that in any way.
• Self Medication—The person uses the substance to fix situations and feel better.  Mistakenly, they believe that they are only using it for social reasons or pain management, but in fact it is “helping” them cope with life.  I remember a month or so ago when I actually felt the trigger.  I could feel it go off, telling me that the only way to fix the issue at hand was food.  I couldn't believe it.  I knew then that it was more than just habit or eating for "fun."
  
• Quick Fix Mentality—Addicts are used to “fixing” their uncomfortable feelings with their addiction. As a result, they expect change to happen fast and have difficulty waiting for things or progress over time. That is one of the reasons relapse is so common is that they are unable to withstand the painful/ uncomfortable feelings that occur with withdrawal.   I can not tell you how many times I have "relapsed."  This is why I'm grateful for the "No-Sugar Challenge" I found online to help break my addiction.  I will talk more about this in a later blog post.
• Upon cessation of the activity, withdrawal symptoms often occur.  These can include irritability, craving, restlessness or depression. Yet another blog post to come.  Yes, I have had withdrawals and cravings more than I realized I would.
• Anger—If there is a feeling that is expressed, it is usually anger.  Not having their substance makes them irritable and angry.  This definitely was one of my first withdrawal symptoms.
  

 I'm not writing all of this to fish for compliments or for you to tell me that I'm not really all that bad.  I don't believe I am a horrible person, but I do believe that I have a serious addiction that I am determined to change.  Please don't dismiss this by trying to "disprove" one of the things I've written (i.e., "You're really not fat, LeMira" or "We've all done that.").  One of the first steps to recovery is honesty, and I'm laying it out in the open.  This is one of the hardest things for me to do.  

I will write more about this experience as time goes on, but I knew I needed to get the first post out there, which has been the hardest to write.  

Up next:  My Turning Point: what made me realize that I had to change for good.

Accountable

Okay, so I just thought I'd update you all and let you know that I've already done 80 push-ups (over a couple of days) because I ate cold cereal (three times) and cookie dough.  Yes, the only way this is going to work is if I hold myself accountable. 

Yeah, well, at least my arms are getting a work-out. . .

Now if I could find that self-control button. . .

No Eating List

This is the year I'm taking control of my life. . . again.  Yeah, I think this will be a perpetual goal for me, but after gaining all the weight back that I had lost two years ago, it's time to really be serious about it all.  My arms are feeling my resolve. 

I realized I had to make a "Not Allowed to Eat" list.  This sounds drastic, but just like people who are trying to quit a serious addiction, I need motivation.  Serious motivation.  I have an addiction.  It's to food, namely sugar.   The "Not Allowed" foods are foods that I can't just eat a treat.  I seem to make a meal of them and can't stop.  I'm very specific in my foods, unless I have a problem with all kinds.  For example, on the top of my list is doughnuts.  I can eat any doughnut anywhere anytime and I can eat many, many doughnuts at a time.  The problem is I can't stop.  Okay, not can't, but won't.  I find some justification of why I can eat that doughnut every time.

Another food is cookie dough.  Yikes, I know, right?!  No, cookies is not on the list, just cookie dough.  Next is potato chips, not tortilla chips.  While their caloric intake is about the same, I can stop eating tortilla chips, I can eat an entire bag of potato chips, and I have to include Doritos in the potato chip category even though technically they're tortilla chips.

Other foods are tootsie rolls, sugared cereals, (I don't care if they say "whole grain," if they say "Fruit Loops, etc.," they're out!), Milk Duds, french fries, maple syrup (do you know how many calories are in that stuff?!), fast food shakes, and full-size candy bars or larger.  As I find myself gorging certain foods that are unhealthy, they're added to the list.

Okay, so you have a list, LeMira, that's good and all, but how are you going to be certain you don't justify eating those foods?  Good question.  I have a consequence.  Each time I eat those foods, I have to do 20 push-ups beyond my regular work-out.  Last night I didn't get to eat dinner until nearly 10:00 p.m., and I poured myself a bowl of Fruity Pebbles.  I told myself that I can handle 20 extra push-ups, no big deal.  Then, I did the exact same thing this morning.  Let me tell you, two bowls of sugared cereal were NOT WORTH 40 extra push-ups.  I had already done 30, and my arms were "Jell-O."   Don't worry, as the arms get stronger, the consequence will get harder.  Maybe one day it will be pull-ups. . . I cringe just thinking about that.

Today when I go stock up on cereal, I'll be sure to by something NOT full of sugar.  You can bet on that.

Giggles More Galore

Good news:  Cole laughed without peeing through his outfit!  He is still, however, true boy.  He laughed hysterically at my raspberry spitting sounds.  :)

Bad news:  Jackson lost his glasses at school -- nowhere to be found.   Yup, awesome.  Good thing for Jackson that I just wrapped all of the presents, otherwise I might have to return them and get him a very non-exciting present.

Good news: Santa sent Jackson a personalized video telling him he was on the nice list.

Bad news: I'm pretty sure Jackson was scratched out and put on the naughty list within an hour.

Good news:  His mother doesn't really want to buy coal.

Bad news:  Jackson is really struggling with giving Cole the present he picked out for his little brother at the Dollar Tree.

Good news:  I think Cole might get a really nice picture of a race car.

Bad news:  I've already gained the 20 pounds for the holidays and it's not even Christmas.

Good news:  My free issue of Fitness Magazine came in today.

Bad news:  I have five loads of laundry to fold.

Good news:  I have clean laundry so I can answer the door instead of making my husband answer it while he's on vacation and while I hide in the bedroom at 2 p.m. in the afternoon because I still haven't showered because all of my laundry is in the process of getting washed.

Bad news:  I'm beginning to ramble in this post.

Good news:  I'm actually posting on my blog*, and now it's done.

THE END.


*This is what you get when I've inactivated my Facebook account and can't give you a play-by-play of my every move there.  ;)

Discipline

I could blame it on having a new baby,

or I could blame it on how busy I am with Parent Council,

or I could accept the blame myself.

Whatever way you slice it, my motivation is gone.  As I told Natalie on the phone today, not only did I jump off the exercising, organizing, get-out-of-the-funk, bandwagon, I shoved it off the cliff.  I've devoted my time to being a mom to a new baby and to Parent Council.  A new baby is overwhelming in itself, but Parent Council takes just as much time and just as much energy.  Basically, to give you an idea, Jackson's school asks that families volunteer 40 hours a year.  Let's just say that I have nearly triple that amount already, and there's no way I can just be done with my volunteering for this year.

So, I'm spent.

I have to say that it feels good to have purpose and to help where help is needed, however, my house is a wreck.  I stack things on my table to be put away later, and they sit there for two weeks or more.  You don't even want to know how long it's been since I scrubbed my kitchen floor (nasty!).  My living room hasn't been uncluttered since the baby arrived.  My bedroom has furniture somewhere under the clothes and papers.  Laundry gets done because I have to have clean clothes, but usually my husband ends up folding it.  Dishes get done because I have a dishwasher and a husband.  Actually, lately, I have been trying to be better at the dishes, but that's because I have to wash bottles anyway.


My body is a wreck.  I eat any sugar-filled food that is available in my house.  I find a reason to "deserve" a doughnut or a treat when I go to the grocery store.  I snack on the chocolate chips in the cupboard, and yes, I even sneak some of Jackson's Halloween candy. (Hey, he's already forgotten about it sitting in on his closet shelf -- how does someone forget about their candy? That would be Matt's DNA at work, not mine.)  I consciously decide to NOT exercise.  The endorphins are almost at a stand-still, and that means my self-worth is diminishing.

I could go on, but you get the idea, and I really don't want to embarrass myself further.  

Thank goodness for good friends.  Today Natalie and I decided to end this de-motivation phase.  As we talked on the phone today, we decided to help each other.  Instead of cutting things off cold turkey and just jumping into good habits, we've decided to "Baby Step" it.  (Yes, you should be imagining Bob Wiley at this point.)  Renewing the habits just seems so overwhelming to do all at once, and it just is doomed to fail.

Today we've decided to be accountable to each other.  Each day we are going to individually pick one task to accomplish.  We know it will snowball and affect the other areas of our lives, but we need to focus small for a while.  I noticed it already.

Today I decided I would finally clear off my kitchen table and put everything away where it goes.  I give you proof:

 I got on a roll and even swept my floor -- maybe that means I will be able to scrub it in the next couple of days. . .I probably will since it's so disgusting.


I'm excited to be accountable again and to see success.  I'm ready to find myself and my furniture again.  :)  Maybe I'll even discover Jillian Michaels and let her beat me up again.  Time to beat the winter blues before they even show up.

From Mountain to Molehill

On Friday afternoon, I finally told Jackson my Saturday plans.  He spat out, "And you going to get a trophy?" His enthusiasm was just what I needed, and yet it added to the nervousness I was already feeling. 


In the beginning of the year, I decided that it was time to make goals.  I didn't set New Year's resolutions for a lot of years because I figured they were pointless because I never accomplished them, and the goals I usually set were things I should just be doing every day.  Well, this year, I knew that I needed goals because I didn't seem to accomplish anything.  If you remember, my mantra for this year was "I Can Do It!"

Well, I set the goal to run a 5K this year. In March when my crusade to get healthy started taking off (thanks to Natalie - I love you, Woman!),  I started working up to running the 3.1 miles a few times a week.  By July, I let the same fear that prevented me from running a 5K the year before take over because I saw that I just couldn't hit my goal of a 5K in 30 minutes, and I just couldn't seem to get out in the summer to exercise (I admit I just wasn't disciplined enough to get up at 5:30 a.m. and go running).  I had resorted to the fact that I just couldn't do it and that I would "one day." 
 
Back in October,  my older brother William encouraged me to run a 5K with him and his wife in November.  He would compete in the triathlon, and Debbie and I would run the 5K. I had three weeks to prepare, and he was confident I could do it.  It wasn't about winning, he said, it was about working toward a goal and accomplishing it.

William and his wife Debbie have been some of my inspiration for a couple of years.  A year and a half ago, they started doing P90X and began losing weight.  They both exercise on a daily basis, and they try to eat healthy.  I've been talking to them for a long time about how they keep it up, and, basically, they hold to the basic beliefs: eat right, count your calories, and exercise.  They haven't cut out all sugar and treats.  I know this to be true because Deb still makes THE BEST chocolate chip cookies, and William will eat an entire bag of candy corn once in a while (hehe).  Yet at age 40, they are in the best health of their lives and look fantastic.  If they can do it at 10 years older than I am, I CAN do it now.

When Will invited me to join them, I admit that although I was nervous, I finally felt like I could do it.  For the next few weeks, I ran once or twice a week.  My fastest 5K time ended up being 40 minutes.  It was longer than I wanted it to be, but I could jog the entire time, and I knew I could finish.

On Tuesday, I still hadn't registered.  I was nervous.  That molehill of a 5K loomed over me like a mountain.  My current speed bump was a road block.  Could I?  I still wasn't for sure if Will and Deb were coming up.   That night, my brother called.  Had I registered yet?  Was I going to run?  Matt sat beside me and told that I needed to do this, that I COULD do it.  William had decided that he couldn't compete in the triathlon, and Debbie had a family activity to attend, but if I were going to run, they would be there for me.  They would run WITH me.  I made the decision then and there that I was going to do it.  My brother and sister-in-law were going to be up here anyway, but the fact that they were still driving 300 miles to be with me meant a lot.  I admit I was very emotional and still am when I think about them.

Saturday finally came after several dreams of me not making it to the race, oversleeping, and getting lost trying to figure out where to go and what to do.  Jackson was ready to run.  He told me that I wouldn't win because he was going to win.  The hardest part of the morning was telling Jackson that he probably wouldn't be able to run with me. As we drove down the street at a very normal hour for us on a weekday, just early for a Saturday, Jackson announced that it was so early and that everyone else was sleeping.  (It was 7:00 a.m.)

My adrenaline was pumping; my nerves were jumping.  I had talked the night before with my brother, and he was so encouraging.  They were going to be there.  This was going to be my "Biggest Loser" moment.  (You know when the contestants finally do something they didn't think they could do, and they break out in tears afterward.)  I met them at the venue an hour before the race was to start. We got our numbers, our bodies marked (although we didn't really need it since we weren't competing in the triathlon), and picked up our ankle bracelets timing chips.

I was proud to wear my age on my leg.  At 30, I'm finally getting my life back in order.  This is the year I'm making a difference in my own life. I'm finally finding myself and peeling the layers.

For the next 45 minutes, we stretched, warmed up, and laughed together.  There was such a feeling of camaraderie in the crowd.  It was being there and dancing to the music.  Jackson warmed up with us, still determined to race until I told him that he couldn't this time.

Needless to say, he was put out.

By race time, 8:30 a.m., the sun had come up, and it was warming up.  Personally, I'll take 48 degrees in November for a race any day.

 We lined up with the crowd to wait the air horn signal to get started. 

The race started, and I knew that hundreds would pass by me, and I wanted them to so that they wouldn't fall on top of me.  Will told me that we would keep going, no matter what; we weren't worrying about everyone else.  They were staying with me the whole time.

 William was my own personal trainer throughout the race, giving me tips and telling me that I was doing great.  He was never once discouraging.  He would say, "We're going to pass these people" or "Just to the top of the hill" or "We've already gone this far" to keep me going.  He stood either right beside me or just ahead of me the entire time.  Debbie stayed a few paces ahead to keep the pace.  She gave me incentive to run harder and to keep going.  She was continually shouting back, "Good job, Mira.  You're doing great!"  When I got to the hill and then the "more hill," they let me get in my zone, but kept telling me to keep going.  They kept me smiling and positive, even when I couldn't feel my thighs (they were beyond burning) trudging up the hill.  There were several times, my black moments when my mind said, "You can't, you're spent," that I wanted to reach over and grab my brother's arm or jacket to pull me up the hill, but I didn't because I knew I could do this myself.  I had to do it myself.  And you know what, I did it myself.
 
When we saw the sign that said "Finish" with an arrow pointing, we were sure we only had a tenth of a mile, but it turned out to be more like half a mile.  It was disappointing, but I kept going.  Seriously, I was hoping for a massive time difference, but I just knew it wasn't going to be when I saw I had to run around the park, too.  Somewhere, my Energizer Bunny surfaced, and I suddenly had more energy.  I finished the race four minutes faster than I had in a month.

Jackson and Matt waited at the finish line.  I know that Jackson had a hard time waiting for so long, but he did some laps around the sidewalk and wandered around while Matt took pictures. 

We finished together. 

My time was 36:19.  Yes, I'm thrilled.  If I can shave four minutes off my time, I can definitely shave six minutes eventually.  I can push myself to get better.  I did have my moment afterward when I walked "it off" and cried for a few moments. I can't wait for the day when a 5K seems like an easy run.

I'm still humbled that Will and Deb would spend $30 to run a race for me - that they would sacrifice their time and their efforts to help me.  Their personal bests are around 22-25 minutes, and they stayed and finished with me at time and a half for them. 

Thank you, Will and Deb, for helping me over my mountain.  It doesn't look as tall now as it did, and I now can see that if I climb it again and again, I will get stronger.  I love you both so very much.

Thanks, also to Matt and Jackson, my biggest cheerleaders.  Jackson still tells me how fun it was and how cool my T-shirt is (yes, that's my $30 shirt, Aimee).  I tell him that maybe in the spring, when I run the next one, he can run with me.  And yes, I'm going to work even harder.  I want to be healthy, I want to be happy, and I have the best people in my life to help make that happen!

Changes

Do you remember the movie Big with Tom Hanks?  Most people, when they think of that movie, think of the scene when Josh and his boss play "Chopsticks"  and "Heart and Soul" on the giant floor piano.  This morning, I thought of that movie, but not the piano scene.  When I woke up, I groggly stumbled to the bathroom, blinded myself by turning on the light, and then like all mornings, looked in the mirror.  I took my hands and rubbed my mid-section -- the part of me that I wish would change the fastest but is taking the longeset.  Then, I thought of the following scene from Big (sorry it's dubbed over in Spanish, but you don't need the words anyway).




As I looked at myself in the mirror, I thought, "What was I expecting?  Change over night?"  Let's face it.  How many of us have these high expectations for ourselves?  You embark on a journey of change, and you know it's going to be hard, but this hard?  The first week, two weeks, even the first month can be motivating.  You're pushing yourself, making the necessary changes, and you see some progress: transformation.  You're finally becoming what you've always wanted to be.  Really!  It can happen!  That brick wall is being torn down.

Six months later,  you look in the mirror, and you still see that same person six months ago.  How can that be?  Oh, yeah, remember that stumbling block you tripped over?  The one you stood behind forever because you just let it stop you?  Real, true change takes time, patience, endurance, work, and more time.  Is it possible?  Absolutely.  Will it come over night and stay for good?  Nope.  Work, work, work, work, work, WORK!  Sometimes it's downright annoying.  What's it going to take?  Focus and refocus. 

The problem I find is that all too often when we are changing or watching others change, we keep a mental picture in our heads; one to which we keep going back.  Maybe we are changing, but all we see are the negative side of things.  It's so easy to hit that one little road bump that seems so huge at the moment and let it stop us.  We just can't do it, or so we say to ourselves.

Sometimes, we even go in reverse, getting further and further away from that block that seems huge.  All we can see is that it's big.  The thing is, though, if we endure, push, fight, that is when change happens.  Eventually, we notice we're over that bump.  Will there be more stumbling blocks along the way?  Absolutely.   The thing is, though, that when we finally look back at our progress, that first block is now small.  Even if we trip backwards over it again, we know we've done it before.  The point is to get back up immediately and jump it while we still have the strength.

This has been a lot of rambling, I know, I can feel it.  What I'm saying is that change is possible, for everyone, but it takes time, and lots of it.  The harder we work, the less time it takes, but sometimes we have to give ourselves a chance to catch up to our expectations. 

I have a long way to go in my journey to love and accept myself, but I'm getting closer.  Last weekend I had a meltdown.  Life finally caught up to me, and I sobbed over the things I can't change right now.  That overwhelming helpless feeling took over me.  Three things in my mind stuck out the most that I just couldn't change at the moment.  For a second, I thought, "What about your weight, who you are?  What about that?"  Normally, those prompts would open more flood gates and frustrations.  This time, for the first time, they didn't.  I felt in control.  I have seen successes, albeit not as quickly as I wanted them, but still success.  For the first time in my life, I could say that I was okay with who I am at the moment because I have seen change.  I'm finally learning to love myself, overweight and all.

Sticking it to the Man

Take that stressful week and scammer! I still LOST weight last week. Only 48 more to go!

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My Cinder Block Wall

Note: This post has been hard for me to write and post here because it is such a public forum. However, a big part of changing is having accountability and when I post my thoughts here, I feel I'm owning my emotions and who I am.

Today I got on the scale, and I was confused. It took me a second to realize what I was looking at. I didn't recognize where the needle was on the scale. I have not weighed this low in at least SIX years!!!! I admit that I was expecting to gain weight because I've had a hard couple of days where I just gave in to the cookie dough and french fries cravings.

Losing weight has so many emotions tied to it. When I exercise I still feel like I'm tearing down a cinder block wall* one block at a time, trying to uncover who/what I really am. Each block has an emotion tied to it. Sometimes it's pain, heartache, or loathing. These blocks are heavy, and I hate to carry them - they make me want to quit. Lately, however, I've found blocks that have elation, joy, and motivation in them. These blocks bring a renewed energy and strength. I love these!

As I remove each layer, I learn something about myself. This week's layer is one that I'm finally able to revisit and face. I realized this week that I don't finish things. I get started on a project, and it gets halfway to most of the way done, and then I stop. I'm tired, bored, and don't want to finish. Yep, I get to the hard part and quit. I'm a quitter. I thought back to high school and why I quit basketball. I was scared of failing; I didn't want to sit the bench; I didn't want to work harder to become a better ball player. Instead, I quit.

Now did you catch in there something else I've noticed? I'm a quitter because I'm scared of failure. Why haven't I finished painting the many rooms in my house? I'm afraid I won't like them or that I will ruin something else in the process. What a dumb excuse!! Anything has got to be better than what's on the walls now.

Anyway, I could keep rambling about this forever. However, the point I want to make is that I DON'T WANT TO BE A QUITTER ANYMORE! I want to make it to my goal, and you know what, I can. I will.

*I chose a cinder block wall because those things are heavy and a brick wall just doesn't cut it for this journey.