this road is anything but simple

Our plan for Sunday included the late morning church service, grabbing sandwiches for lunch, and then spending the majority of the day at home cleaning and preparing for the week. When 10:00am rolled around, we found ourselves still in pajamas and not yet ready to face the day.

We then spent the day together - running errands, talking about the upcoming week, discussing our future,  and mentally preparing for the week. It was nowhere close to the day we had planned, but even the planner in me understands that sometimes you need to completely do away with plans.

And I did well all day. I chose a grilled chicken sandwich, no mayonnaise or cheese, with avocado and mustard for lunch with a side salad, no cheese or croutons, with dressing on the side instead of my beloved french fries. I would have much rather ordered a cheeseburger, or at least stolen a few of my husband's fried onions, but I stuck to what I knew would work for my body.

I felt rather satisfied after lunch, though the hunger set in after a day full of shopping at the Outlet Mall as well as Kohl's and Target.

Shopping is one of the things I love most. But I know I have to be careful because I need to not work 60-70 hours a week in order to shop. I need to work 60-70 hours a week to save money and occasionally purchase a few things for myself.

I stuck to the more essential items on this specific shopping trip. Like new running shoes. A pair of completely comfortable Reebok Zigs. They weren't my first choice because they make my already large feet look even bigger. But the comfort I felt when I slipped them on was enough to push aside my own personal issues with having large feet.

It feels good to have two pairs of comfortable shoes - even if they are competing brands, and I still love the Nike Cross Trainers I bought several months ago. Having new shoes, a little something to keep me going, increases my excitement of heading to the gym early in the morning. The fact that they were on sale and that we got my husband a pair of shoes for 50% off helped as well.

When we first went into the store, I joked that I could purchase two pairs of shoes as it was buy one, get one 50% off. And I did try on different Reeboks but none were worth the extra purchase. My husband decided he is interested in running, and will hopefully join me at the gym in the future. He isn't on a weight loss journey but is interested in becoming more fit and healthy. If we can spend quality time sweating together, I'm all for it.

My other purchases were of food and a Bobble Filtered Water Bottle. It's no secret - to anyone who reads the blog or knows me in real life - that my two biggest struggles during this journey have been eating and drinking water. Add in a hectic, busy work schedule and not having access to water all the time, and those struggles are amplified.

So, to go along with my commitment, I bought groceries for the week. I may still eat most of my lunches out due to constantly being on the road, but now I have dinners that I can toss in my purse before leaving the house and not worry about them going bad.

There's a mixture of items - tuna fish with crackers, ravioli, and a couple kinds of soup. I'm hopeful that the small variety will help from boredom setting in and me turning to the foods that will do nothing to aid my weight loss (like Chik-Fil-A's waffle fries).

And, amazingly enough, it's quite a bit cheaper to purchase food at the grocery store rather than at the drive-thru. Plus - if today is any indication - I'll be feeling even better the less fast food I eat. Amazingly enough.

And the Bobble Filtered Water Bottle is something I'm excited about because now I don't have to lug several water bottles to work each morning. I can simply put it under the tap anywhere I am at and then enjoy filtered water. My hope is that by drinking so much water I can rid myself (once again) of my diet coke and diet dr. pepper addiction.

I've seen so many people take the 100 oz. water challenge, but I haven't allowed myself to attempt the challenge because I knew that I would fail. Now, though, I might just have to take the challenge. Having the Bobble gets rid of every single excuse I could make regarding why I haven't included water in my daily diet.

With a small dent in our checking account, and a husband who was more than ready to finish shopping, we headed home and I enjoyed a quick 200-calorie snack of pita bread and spinach artichoke dip. Dinner followed just a few hours, and we enjoyed flat bread, kalmata olive tapenade, roasted artichokes, red pepper hummus, and finally a few pieces of delicious pizza (a piece of margherita and a piece of the truffle shuffle {truffle oil, sage, crimini mushrooms, spinach, roasted chicken, parmesan, mozzarella}) for me  from The Wedge.

It was a perfect Sunday. I didn't make it to the gym, but I stayed under my allotted calories for the day. And I'm all set for an early morning work-out in the morning as well as for keeping my commitment to myself and moving forward on my journey.

(title from "lift me up" by kate voegele)

done looking for the critics (week 5)

This week has not been what I wanted or expected. After a weekend of resting, shopping, eating good food, and not worrying about too many things, I had hopes of a week full of energy and hours spent at the gym. I set my alarm every day to go off before 5:30am so I could get in a morning work out.

I turned the alarm off every day and didn't even pretend to consider getting out of bed with the intention of sweating for an hour at the gym.

Each night I've gotten home exhausted. In fact, I've spent the entire day at work exhausted. The coffee I brew in the morning doesn't seem to help. And neither does the caffeine I try to sneak in during the work day.

Maybe I'm not drinking enough water? Or maybe my body is fighting off another infection. Maybe it's because the cold and grey skies are becoming more normal than not in Oklahoma City. I'm not sure. I just know what this week has been a week of missed work-outs, eating macaroni and cheese for dinner, and just trying to make it through the week.

There will always be weeks like this. Sometimes just getting out of bed and making decent food choice is all you can do. Sometimes your body needs a break. And sometimes fitness just isn't a priority.

I've come a good distance in other ways. I have ideas for a novel. I want to write. I've enjoyed snuggling on the couch with my husband. And I am 3/4 of the way through Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins. And I haven't beat myself up too badly for not working out. Because I know there's a reason I feel so sluggish, a reason I just can't seem to muster the energy to even change into my work-out clothes.

So what do you do during these times? Some people would say to push through. Go to the gym any ways. Just get it done. There are times when I agree with that. But right now? Right now this is not something I can push through. Right now I need to just take whatever time my body needs and allow myself to not spend 10 hours in the gym.

Winter has made it's slow descent on Oklahoma. There's a possibility of snow on Monday (which I am praying against), and I've already spent a few mornings in my car waiting for my frosted windows to defrost. I had hoped the cold temperatures wouldn't slow my weight loss, but they have. As much as I want to be healthy, I am fighting the battle to just hibernate through the winter and live in oversized sweaters.

I used to like cold weather. I think it's because I spent so many years living in Houston where there is no (real) cold weather and also because I could and would live in a hooded sweatshirt and Uggs if life allowed. But now the cold is becoming my enemy. It threatens to take my health and my ability to wake up early in the morning and dominate a work out.

This week is not a result of the cold weather. It's a result of my body needing a rest. It's a result of my mind coming to grips with closed doors and with new possibilities. It's a result of me making a choice to not push myself as hard as I have in the past. But I know that this week could very quickly become the normal occurrence for the winter, and that's something I don't want to allow to happen.

I went shopping on Black Friday for one reason and one reason only. All of my clothese were too big. I bought pants and jeans and a few tops (some pictured to the left as I spent most of this week wearing said new clothes and somewhat attempting to style my hair). I'm planning on making these things last me through the winter, and I'm trading my too-big clothes into Daisy Exchange or Plato's Closet once I have time to run some errands. So I simply can not hibernate. I must keep working out and bidding farewell to excess pounds.

This week, even though I've barely stepped foot in the gym, I have felt decently about myself. I spent weeks feeling less than decent. Everything I owned was too big and felt frumpy. I thought I would never get to a point where I felt comfortable enough to shop again. And then I did. While my worth is not found in material possessions, an outfit in which I feel somewhat cute does quite a bit for my confidence. And I needed that.

Feeling decent this week has reminded me that my worth is not found in the number on the scale or the number of miles I complete on the elliptical. It's found on the inside. Similarly feeling decent is not found in my job or the path my life is taking. Those things impact it but they do not define me.

They say change is made on the inside (at least that's what Bob Harper has said on an episode or two of The Biggest Loser). And this week there have been a lot of inside changes. I'm excited to see how they impact my work outs once I get back in the gym, but I am even more excited to see how those changes impact the rest of my life.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

you've got the power

After four days away from the gym, I changed into my work-out clothes today and spent my lunch hour on the elliptical and on the mat doing ab exercises with the CorBall.

Every time I go to the gym, I watch the people around me. What is their heart rate? How fast are they moving on the elliptical? What exercises are they doing? Sometimes I try to incorporate their habits into my work out. Other times I think to myself that they are doing this or that wrong. Every now and then I recognize that they are more fit than I am. Then I store their moves into the back of my mind with the intention of utilizing it once I am more physically able.

The internet allows us to have all information at our fingertips. You simply type something into google.com and suddenly you have endless information available to you. Some of the information is repetitive, and some of the information is anything but helpful. But it's all there.

There's this need and desire I have for things to follow a certain order. I want to know what steps I need to take. How do I achieve fulfillment? How do I go about settling on a career and then moving my way up and through that career? What steps do I need to take in order to successfully lose 100 pounds and then maintain that weight loss?

I could find all of those answers and more with a simple search. I could also walk through the aisles of a bookstore and find a book on every topic. Some of those search results and aisles might yield helpful information. But that's all it is. It's just information.

No one can tell me exactly how to go about losing 100 pounds. There is the idea of cutting calories and increasing activity. And that works. But exactly how much do I cut calories? And how much activity is too much activity?

The answer is different for everyone. Just like the path a life takes is different for everyone.

I find myself at a crossroads almost everyday. It's a crossroads about what I want to do and who I want to be. It's a crossroads of wondering how I should go about standing out or if I should just try to blend in. Sometimes I mention my questions and thoughts to other people. Other times, I remain quiet and pensive.

This evening, I finally moved the laundry off of the washing machine and dryer. I dropped it on the foot of the bed and set about my least favorite chore: folding and putting away the clean (and now wrinkled) clothes. The whole time I considered this need to have a plan. This desire to know exactly what I have to do to lose weight or land my dream job.

There is no plan I can follow directly. Life is not a straight line. It's a series of twists and turns. Every decision impacts where a person goes next. And while I do believe God has certain hopes for us and intentions for our lives, how we land at those points is completely up to us. It's why we have free will. Because He could just make every decision for us and allow us to follow a completely straight path. But He would rather us figure it out on our own.

That in itself is a blessing. Yet I so often turn that blessing into a curse and mutter about how I just want to know what is going to happen next. I just want to know when I will finally figure out exactly what my life is supposed to be.

At 26, I don't need to have it all figured out. I shouldn't have it figured all out. If I did, what would I do with the next 40 or 50 or 60 years left in my life?

It's easy to think about the now. How each decision impacts my current state. It's also easy to ignore the now and think about only the future - how I will do this or that once I reach a certain point in my career or once I have a certain amount of money in my bank account. Really I can't just concentrate on the now or the future. I need to open myself up to both. My life is meant to be lived in the present but with intention because I want the present to lead to an even better future.

And it's not just about me. This life and these decisions. Yes how I treat myself is important, and yes it is my life to live. But I want my life to be so much more than just my life.

Someone might stumble upon my blog with a question about how to lose 100 pounds. Or a statement about wanting to love themselves and feel beautiful. And I would love to give them every ounce of knowledge I have. I would love the opportunity to meet somewhere for coffee, especially a gingerbread latte with Christmas season at hand, and just talk. To hear their story and then also share mine. To understand how our lives interconnect and maybe to help them find their way. But I wouldn't be able to instill any true advice on how to live their lives.

My advice would come from my experience. The advice would be what I had learned on my journey. Maybe it would help for them to know they weren't alone. I know that helps me. But it would just be assistance. It wouldn't be the easy and clear answer they were searching for - the easy and clear answer I hope to find each time I search google.com.

I'm thankful for every result I find on google.com. I think it's imperative that we all share our stories. I think it's a gift to have the internet as a way of connecting and as a reminder what we are never alone in our struggles, our hopes, and our achievements.

But I also know to take everything with a grain of salt. I know that some of my questions will go unanswered. And I know that my life will never follow the exact same path as someone else. But that's a beautiful thing - the fact that we are all so different and yet to so similar.

So, if you ever see me in the gym watching you, just know I am intrigued. Know that your effort inspires my effort. Know that I love that I can get ideas from you. Know that you, and the story you are living, help me get back into the swing of things after four days away from exercise of any kind.

And if you are looking for answers and a clear path, just remember that you are not alone. And those answers? That path? It will all become clear for you in it's own time. And once it does, the wait will have been worth it. A reminder that is just as much for me as it is for you.

(title from "someone still believes in you" by mary beth maziarz)

done looking for the critics (week 4)

I made a decision to be thankful and grateful and not a Scrooge this holiday season. While it is difficult to not be with my parents, brother, and Nana to eat turducken and laugh around the dining room table, I want to enjoy the traditions I have with my husband and with my in-laws.

The beginning of Thanksgiving Day started with a new tradition. A tradition I decided on all on my own. A sweaty, 85-minute work out. With earbuds in, I completed my very own 5k on the elliptical and then pushed through an upper body strength work out. After the work out, I called my family to wish them a happy Thanksgiving. Then I came home and roasted butternut squash and brussel sprouts. By 1pm, we were at my in-laws ready to eat turkey and all the sides that accompany Thanksgiving.

It was the first holiday I wasn't sad. There's never been a time when I felt anything less than loved and accepted with my in-laws. They've always welcomed me into their family. Even when my husband and I were just dating. They made sure I had family to spend the holidays with and opened their home and traditions to me in case I didn't.

But I've always missed my family and our traditions. I've always struggled with how to combine my traditions with my husbands, and I spent more time wishing for my traditions instead of appreciating the traditions around me.

Not this year. I would have loved to wake up and drink a smoothie with my family before turducken. I would have loved to smell the homemade pumpkin pie my mom makes and eat a few too many of my Nana's potatoes. And I could have spent the day wishing for those things. But I didn't because I know I'll get to experience all of those things again at some point.

Instead I enjoyed the holidays here. I decided there was no time or room for sadness. I refused to do anything but enjoy every moment of the holidays. And I did.

I spent several hours thinking about what I was thankful for. There were the obvious things like food, clothing, shelter, and family. Those are things that not everyone has. I could have easily written a post about the things I was thankful for, and I almost did. But I wanted whatever I said about the holidays to hold as much honesty and emotion as it could.

So I'm thankful for those things. The food we had on the table. The clothes I bought on Black Friday. The family I talked to on the phone, the family I ate Thanksgiving dinner with, the family I shopped with. The house my husband and I live in with it's size and possibilities.

I am also thankful for this journey. It's hard navigating the table and the kitchen during a holiday that food is so much a part of. And I didn't do the best job. I ate too many mashed potatoes and not enough brussel sprouts. I drank too much diet coke and gave into momentary desires of buttery popcorn at the movie theatre. While I spent Thursday morning at the gym, I didn't make it on Friday or Saturday.

That's why it's a journey. If it were a straight path from overweight to in shape, it would be a line to walk and not a journey. A weight loss journey is going to include struggle and mistakes and bruised knees. It is also going to include successes and realizations and big grins. The holiday weekend had those things in it along with the difficulty I had navigating the table.

The holiday weekend also included time spent on the couch watching The Biggest Loser. It wasn't until the current season that I actually started watching the show. I've read books written by former contestants and watched Jillian Michaels' spin-off show. But due to an already full DVR, I had never taken the time to watch the past seasons. Then I discovered that Netflix has all of the past seasons available to watch instantly.

I haven't gone in order of seasons. Instead I've watched the seasons I've heard to be the most inspiring. I started with season 8. And I teared up during almost every episode. I felt connected to Shay due to my field of profession. And to Abby because of her faith. And to Danny because he was from Oklahoma. When the season ended, I wasn't sure what season to watch next. I remembered a tweet a friend sent me about a specific moment in season 11, and I decided that would be the next season.

Watching season 11 was therapeutic for me in many ways. Because I am the contestants. I have the fear of getting hurt that Sarah had. I have the feelings of nothing being good enough that Hannah talked of. And Olivia with her faithful and supportive husband was also me.

In the end, the final three were all female. And they all lost an incredible amount of weight. But what I loved the most was the friendships they shared with each other and how they all said it wasn't about winning the money or losing the most amount of weight. It was about changing on the inside, that change being reflected on the outside, and how they all then have taken that change and allowed it to impact other people. I also loved that they proved people wrong. There were people who said they couldn't and they responded with "yes, I can." And then they did.

I don't know if there is anyone in my life who has said I can't lose the weight. I don't know if there is anyone in my life who thinks I will gain in all back. For all I know, there are people in my life who are waiting for me to fail. But it doesn't matter. Because just like Hannah did, (if they do exist) I am going to prove them wrong. And just like Olivia did, I am going to prove to myself that I can finish.

I may never be on The Biggest Loser. And I won't lose weight as quickly as the contestants. I don't have one of the world's best trainers. My weight loss will not result in $250,000 or $100,000. I can focus on the things I won't have - the things Olivia and Hannah had - or I can think about what I do have and what will happen after my weight loss.

I think my life and my dreams start with losing this weight. I think this journey is the first step to the rest of my life. I think God has placed me in the place I am with a specific purpose. And while I've learned a lot and changed some, I know I haven't fully given into the process. I've held on my wants and desires more than I've opened myself to the opportunities God might be placing in my path.

So I'm choosing thankfulness. It's a choice I have to make daily and sometimes multiple times a day. Because it's easy to be thankful one minute and then feel like everything is crashing down the next. Something will go wrong every day. It might be something small like a speeding ticket or something big like losing a job. And when those things go wrong, I have a choice to turn to God and thank Him for being constant or to forget Him and turn into myself and wonder why this or that is happening to me.

I choose the latter most of the time. I say I won't next time, but I usually do. And it needs to stop. I need to be thankful always. As my husband says, nothing terrible has happened. And it hasn't; God always, always provides a way.

So today, on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, I am thankful for friends, for family, for a roof over my head, for my husband, for our two crazy dogs, for opportunities and closed doors, for weight loss and weight gain, for the The Biggest Loser and the contestants that touched me, and for a God who provides me with eyes to see the things I have to be thankful for.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

done looking for the critics (week 3)

Before I spent a week recovering from strep throat, my work-out schedule was relatively consistent. I averaged 10 hours of exercise a week and spent many days squeezing in two work-outs. I prefer waking up early and getting at least one work-out done. A morning spent on the elliptical and lifting weights also guarantees that I fit strength training into my schedule and helps to determine how the rest of the day will go.

I had hopes of early morning work-outs this week, but a combination of cooler weather, cuddly dogs, and a body that needed rest made those hopes just hopes and not reality.

In the past, I spent Thursday nights at the gym combining cardio, circuit training, and core muscle training. It's one of the nights I take time and go to the gym. While I don't enjoy the great number of other patrons, I love being able to exercise without worrying about time constraints.

I stepped into the gym on Thursday after work. I was a little worried about completing my first second work-out of the day since spending an entire week on the couch, but I pushed past the worry and stepped into the gym.

I'm finding that I love the elliptical. I hope to one day be able to pound out miles on the treadmill, but as it stands now, my knees are a bit too wobbly and sore to do that. So I choose the elliptical. And everytime I climb onto the elliptical, I do it with the intention of finishing three miles. I did just that on Thursday and finished in 40 minutes.

The television was turned to the Travel Channel, and I kept my eyes on two episodes of Man vs. Food while I completed intervals on the elliptical. Some people might enjoy the show. For me, personally, it saddened me. And it caused me to look inward at the relationship I have and used to have with food.

If you aren't familiar with the show, Adam Richman takes on different challenges throughout the show. While I watched, he consumed nine sushi rolls as quickly as possible, attempted to eat five pounds worth of chilli dogs and fries in 20 minutes, and also ate pancakes that were big enough to feed at least ten people. There were other items eaten, but those were the ones that stuck out the most to me.

I kept wondering why. Why would you force yourself to eat so much food in a time constraint? Why would people watch him and cheer for him? Why is there a show like this? Why eat food when you don't really get to enjoy it? I also wondered what. What happened to make someone want to eat so much food and so quickly?

I turned those questions on myself as I huffed and puffed through the three miles. I thought back to all the food I used to eat. I never devoured five pounds worth of chilli dogs and fries, but I used to get every meal from a fast food restaurant. I don't consume nine sushi rolls, but I've been known to finish three all on my own.

My reasons were simple: I didn't love myself. During that time, I didn't see it that way. I saw myself as being busy and stressed and having no other choice. But I always had a choice. I just chose not to take care of myself, not to put myself first, and not the love myself the way I deserved.

The further I travel on this journey the more I love myself. I'm at a point where I now look into the mirror and appreciate what I see. I notice the changes. I might not be at the end of the journey, but I am well on my way.

In the past, I would have looked in the mirror and shrugged. I wore clothes that were nice enough and tried to look presentable. But I never really cared. I figured I was as good as I was going to get. I figured there was nothing else I could do. Trying to improve my health would be too hard. There were too many obstacles. It wasn't worth trying.. I wasn't worth trying.

My body image was not good. My image of myself was not good. I took all the negative things I had ever heard from other people, all the things I wasn't that the media said I should be, and everything I thought of myself, and I listened to it.

Starting this journey, I began the process of shedding all those negative things. I began the process of looking in the mirror and not shrugging. I started to care. And I started to love myself.

Thursday was the first time I looked into the mirror and truly saw the changes. I've noticed them before, but I've always pointed out the flaws and the items that aren't improving. I've always focused on the things that aren't good enough. But when I saw myself in the mirror Thursday, I felt acceptance.

The journey to health begins with a choice. No one else can make a person start to lose weight other than the person who needs to lose weight. After that first choice, every single day is a choice. And I choose to not be a critic of myself.

The more I love myself the easier this journey becomes. There are still temptations. But it's easier to say no. Because no now means I can say yes to other things later. There will be days when I look in the mirror and shrug, but the more I love myself the fewer those days will occur.

Life is short. But it's beautiful. We as people are beautiful too - no matter what the world says. But it is up to us as individuals to love ourselves enough and live out that beauty.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

done looking for the critics (week 2)

Every so often, in the midst of the busyness and the feelings of being not good enough, there is clarity. It might just be for one moment. Or it may be for several moments. And when it happens, when the clouds part and the fog disappears, it is impossible not to notice.

I've had moments of clarity before. Moments of truthful words being spoken. Moments of realizing and grasping how important life is as well as how God is working through all things and using all things to tell a story with my life.

Those moments do not last forever. Eventually the clarity disappears, and we are once again in murky waters. That's why it is so important to write the moments down. To remember the details. Because then we can return to those moments, through our memories, and realize once again that God is working through all things.

For months, I prayed for friendships. College brought close friends, but graduation and marriage and people moving across the country separated us all physically. There were so many times when I felt lonely. Comfort wasn't really an option though my husband did everything he could to bring me whatever comfort he could find. I got to a point where I decided I was not going to have close friends. Where I decided that it would just be me.

I don't remember the last time I prayed for close friendships. But this week I got hit with the realization of answered prayers in the form of friendships. And I understood what our pastor so often talks about. I felt like I was a part of a community, and I've felt lighter and happier and more content and more at peace than I have in months.

Nothing has really changed. Those friendships have been there for quite some time. But I refused to open myself up to them for a lengthy period of time. I pushed away. I built up my walls higher and higher. Sometime between pushing and building, those walls came crumbling down. And for the first time, I don't miss them.

This week I've learned and thought a lot about balance. I took advice and rested more than usual. And in just five days, I've lost over three pounds according to the scale. As excited as I am about the loss on the scale, I am much more excited about the peace I feel. I thought I needed weight loss, but really I needed perspective gained and a moment of clarity.

With this moment of clarity, there is still a question. And that question is where do I go from here? The answer is I am still not sure.

I used to think that there needed to be an answer for every question. I felt like I needed to have it all figured out. Often times, I still feel like I need to have it figured out because it seems like everyone else has it all figured out.

This moment of clarity showed me that no one has it all figured out. That's why we need each other. We learn from one another. Everyone is blessed with a talent and with knowledge. And that talent and knowledge is meant to be shared with other people.

Every person on this earth is born with a purpose. I strongly believe that. Life, then, is the time we spend on earth finding our purpose. Some people's purposes seem bigger than others. But there is no such thing as a bigger purpose than another person. Because we are all important and loved and created.

I struggle with this. I want my purpose to be big and in shining lights. I want to see the impact I have on other lives. And I spend too much time wanting those things and too little time seeing what my life is right now.

That's my goal for this next week. I want balance. And to be present in my current life. I want my purpose to be whatever it is supposed to be. And I want to help others find their purpose.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

done looking for the critics (week 1)

I've been considering this blog a lot recently. I've thought about what I want it to say. Not just in words but in a feeling. I've thought about what I want from it as the creator and writer, as the person living this day to day life. I've also thought about what I want it to be for everyone who stumbles across it and for those who follow it whether through blogger, facebook, or twitter. I've also thought about what I want it to reflect.

There's not one category I can place this blog into. It's about everything. My journey to lose 100 pounds and also my faith. There's been some talk of my writing also. And sometimes I mention my marriage and how we met and fell in love.

I want to continue to share all of these aspects. I want to tell my stories even if no one else reads or identifies with them because they are my stories. And any story that belongs to you deserves to be told. I want to continue with honesty because I think everyone needs to know they are never alone, and I firmly believe the world needs more honesty and vulnerability because that is how we, as people, connect.

And I want this to be a place of inspiration. For myself and for you. SometimesToo often, I struggle with finding the good in any and all situation. Because it is always there. Even if it is buried under a lot of other things, it is there. I know that because I know God is good and that He is always present. But I know it is hard to find in the midst of sickness and in money worries and in everything else that plagues us on this eart.

I think it's especially hard to find the good in the midst of losing weight and gaining health. Because so much of this is dependent on the scale and what the scale says in a number as well as what the scale says about us as people.

I often remind myself and friends that the scale does not dictate who I am or who they are. But I have a hard time remembering that in those moments when I step on and see that the number has not dropped at all. I struggle with that when I try on a size smaller of clothes expecting it to fit only to find that my butt is still too big to squeeze into it. Sometime I struggle with it when I hug my husband and realize again that he is leaner
than I am and wonder if I can ever be as healthy and fit as I want to be.

If I focus only on the scale and on clothes for approval and reminders that I am doing well, I will fail. Because the scale and clothes do not dictate how healthy I am or how I feel. They don't dictate hor healthy you are either. They can be tools if used properly, but they are not the end all and be all of health.

So what is?

For me, it's how hard I am pushing myself. It's seeing how far I have come from just 6 months ago. It's realizing that I can do more than I ever have. It's focusing on those things. It's also letting go of all my old behaviors and tapping into new ones. It's learning (and sticking to) what works for me in the way of a healthy lifestyle.

I want to document those things. Hopefully on a weekly basis. This will be the first week. I don't know what it will look like on a week-to-week basis. It might just be a picture dump. Or maybe a recipe. I might even do a pinterest dump. But whatever it is, it will be honest and it will reflect both what I am learning and struggling with as well as my successes and any failures I might have had.

This week has been up and down. I struggled with cold and allergies. I got not-so-great news from the doctor. As rough as parts of it were, I persevered. I never gave up; I just tried harder.

I focused on what I ate and read the ingredients list. I tracked every single calorie and ounce of water I drank. I started to cut out processed foods and plan what I would eat before arriving at restaurants.

Between Monday and Friday, I burned over 3300 calories in 6 hours and 17 minutes. I spent more time with my heart rate about 136 than I ever have before.

I was told that both my fitness and max performance were improving on more than one occassion which makes me more excited to hit the gym.

I'm proud of myself for where I am. I feel more committed to my health and wellness. I feel like I can push myself more and more each day. I'm no longer even the tiniest bit afraid of failing. Instead, I am excited.

I celebrated six-months of this journey on Wednesday. And it was hard. I was hard on myself. I felt like a failure for having only lost 25 pounds and felt like I should have been at the 50 pound mark by then. I no longer feel this way because I know that I have gained so much in the past 6 months, and what I have gained definitely outweighs the need to lose 50 pounds in six months versus 25 pounds in six months.

The next six month will have their own set of challenges. But I'm not worried because I am going to focus on each day and each week, and eventually it will work out in such a way that I can look back at the next six months and see nothing but success.

Here's to this week and to next week. Here's to not focusing on just the scale but seeing health for what is - an everything in life matters just as equally journey.

I wish every overweight person could step into the body of a fit person for one week, maybe just one day. I think it would be the catalyst for a new resolve. If you could "feel" the end, you would stay the course. Abby Rike, "Working It Out"

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

pause in life's pleasures

Several weeks ago, I started to gain back a few pounds. It was a slow gain. So slow that at first I didn't realize it was truly a gain. I thought it was water weight. And maybe it was - at first.

Eventually, I realized it wasn't just water weight. It was real weight. Weight that I gained due to making bad choices and also not pushing myself with exercise. I wanted to believe that it would just fall off, but it didn't. It hung on, and eventually a few pounds turned into five pounds.

I remained quiet about the weight gain for the most part. I didn't want to talk about it or really admit to it. And I wasn't sure how to go about talking about all of the reasons for the weight gain. Because there is always a reason for weight gain; it doesn't just happen - just like weight loss doesn't just happen.

Eventually, I lost a few pounds, but I stayed at the same weight for several weeks. Nothing seemed to be working. And the more nothing work, the more I focused on the weight I couldn't lose. It seemed like a neverending battle.

But the battle is neverending. At some point, it stops. The outcome is, then, either a win or a loss.

Today it was a win. A win in the way of a loss. A three pound loss to be exact. And with that three pound loss, I am officially at my lowest weight since beginning my journey. Excited is an understatement. Even ecstatic is an understatement.

I worked hard for the loss. I counted calories for seven days straight. I thought about everything I ate and made choices that several weeks ago I would have struggled to make - like not having dessert after dinner and also not filling up my bowl or plate a second time.

I realized, though, that the loss isn't because of only the things I did. The loss is because of the support system I have - both in the "real world" and through the interconnected blog world. While the decisions are mine to make, and in many ways weight loss will always be a solo journey, the loss would not have been possible without support. And while I have some restraint, I don't think I have enough restraint or self-control to actually lose weight without anyone else cheering me on.

I need reminders that only other people can give me. Reminders that I need to look at more than just the number on the scale. Reminders that the hard work is not going unnoticed. Reminders that even on the hardest days this is worth it.

And then there are the other reminders. Reminders that don't come from one specific person but reminders that come from God and show me just how loved I am even when I feel the most unloveable. Reminders that open up a new world of dreams. Reminders that awaken parts of my heart that were hardened. Reminders to take in a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. Reminders that it's okay to not be perfect and to not be able to balance everything in one hand.

Reminders that it's okay to put myself first during this season in my life.

Weight gain, for me at least, usually happens as a response to another event. Whether it be an event I was a part of or something someone did to me or just how I feel. I generally turn to (or used to turn to) food. Ice cream. French fries. Pizza. All those foods that aren't exactly healthy.

But the event can also be something I am not even aware of. That's what happened before I said no more in April and began this journey.

I spent almost two years of my life dedicating every waking, and sleeping moment, to other people. To families who were broken. To children who needed a constant. To parents who didn't know where else to turn. To co-workers who were the only ones who understood. Most of those years were spent in the car - traveling the state of Oklahoma and passing through a McDonald's for a quick lunch and a diet coke. And then by the time I got home, I was too tired to cook, and so we either ate out or I threw something frozen into a skillet or a pan or the microwave. And the pounds piled on.

I don't blame the weight gain on the job. People joke that in a job like that you either take up smoking or drinking. I took up neither, but I fell back on the familiar. I could have stopped it. I could have committed to spending time in the gym and packing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch. But I didn't. I just let it happen.

I let it happen because I focused every ounce of my energy on other people. And I helped a lot of people. I think. But I didn't help myself, and that was one of the biggest hinderances.

Now I am focusing on myself. I am doing everything I can to help myself. And it is such a hard thing for me to do because I feel guilty for placing myself above everyone else. I feel like I should be doing more for other people and less for myself. Like I am wasting my time by not being there and volunteering and filling my plate with so many other things.

But I deserve it. I deserve this chance to be healthy and to fully move on from those things that I used to turn to. I deserve to turn the 26 pounds lost so far into 100 pounds lost total.

We all deserve the chance to take care of ourselves.

So what do I do during this time? When I feel guilty for placing myself first, when I feel like I am  not doing enough for other people, how do I continue to push myself? I turn to others. I remind myself that I have cheerleaders, and I do what is so hard - I let them in on my feelings.

But what I am finding, more and more, is that people are receptive. People care. People reach back to you when you reach out to them.

And then there's God. God who speaks through a pastor on Sunday morning and stirs up a dream that is too big for me to accomplish on my own. God who shows me that this time in my life right now will help me to get to that dream. God who reminds me that my efforts are not wasted, and God who shows me that by putting myself first I can eventually help others.

God who celebrated my three pound loss and provided me with others to celebrate with.

(title from "hard times" by eastmountainsouth)

a story to tell

From the start, I knew this would be a journey. I knew there would be ups and downs. I figured there would be moments of weight loss and moments of no weight loss. And I knew that I would have to change my path.

Just like any journey, I had to be ready when I started. Most people don't wake up one morning, decide to travel to Europe and then jump on a plane that day. When there is a trip to Europe, there is planning. Lots of planning. I know; I've done the planning.

And just like any journey, I have had to be flexible. Not everything goes according to plan when traveling. There are missed connections and bus routes that are almost impossible to understand. If you travel with a group, there might be negative relationships. It's up to you to decide whether or not to be flexible. And not being flexible can ruin the entire journey.

With a journey, you have to be ready to push yourself into trying new things - into doing things you never thought you would. When traveling, this can mean trying new foods like the time I tried donkey meat in China. With weight loss, it can mean trying a new class or it could be actually running.

I pushed myself tonight. It wasn't much by a lot of standards, but for me, it was a lot. I didn't give up even though I wanted to. I pushed through the 20-minute mark on the elliptical - the one where I usually decide I am tired and move onto the next thing. I ran right past the 1-mile mark on the elliptical - the one where I decide I've done enough.

I spent over 40 minutes on the elliptical. I ran over three miles. And then I lifted weights.

I could have gone longer on the elliptical. I could have lifted more weights. It was the biggest breakthrough I've had. It showed me just how strong I really am. It reminded me that I have so much farther to go, and it made me so excited for the rest of the journey.

I loved Europe. It was one of the best experiences of my life. As was my time in China. And this weight loss journey I am on? It's just as good.

(title from "gotta figure it out" by erin mccarley)

hold my head up high

picture found here.

Every day, I drive thirty minutes from my house to my office. The gym I typically attend is within walking distance of my office, which is why I am often able to spend my lunch breaks in the pool either swimming laps or participating in aqua zumba or deep water aerobics. It's a great asset to my current position, but on the weekends, it means I can't spend time at the gym because it is not worth the gas (or the time).

I struggle on the weekends. Both with eating and with activity. Especially right now when it is already 100 degrees outside at noon. I knew I needed a solution to the problem, and so, a few weeks ago, I began searching for a cheap (no more than $20 a month) gym membership.

After a lot of searching and a lot of discussion with my husband, I found a local gym that offers memberships for $10 a month. Following an 8-hour day of work, I took myself to the gym and signed the paperwork. Tomorrow will be my first day working at my second gym.

Work is also changing and getting busier. There are more meetings to attend, and for the next few months, several days a week will not allow a lunchtime workout. Add to that the fact that the meetings will occur five minutes from my house and not five minutes from my office, and it only made sense for me to find and agree to a second gym membership.

One of my favorite things about the gym that I signed up at is that it is directed to people just starting the work out routine and to those wanting to stay fit. There is an almost endless row of cardio machines and classes offered throughout the day that teach you how to use machines. I'm often so overwhelmed at the gym near my office as so many of the people are more in shape than I am.

It's silly to be insecure. I've talked to several people who have agreed that I have no reason to be insecure. A friend of mine even told me that seeing people who aren't fully fit at the gym inspires her. Her exact quote (thanks to my text message memory) was: "When I see someone at the gym who is overweight and working hard...I get really happy. It's so inspiring to me to see people going out there regardless of anything and just doing it."

I know she is right. And it makes me happy that I am getting out and exercising no matter what. But I still struggle with feeling comfortable on the machines and especially with free weights in hand. I hope that one day I will feel comfortable. That it won't always be back in the mind that I don't know what I am doing. And that I won't compare myself and my work out to everyone else around me.

But being in the gym this afternoon? I didn't feel like I would need to compare myself to others. There is an opportunity for personal training, and even at 5:45pm, plenty of machines were available for use.

I'm so close. Yes, there are still 79.6 pounds to lose, but I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I will make it. There is nothing standing in my way, especially now that I have the opportunity to attend two gyms.

I felt it at work today. Nothing specific occurred, but as I walked up a flight of stairs, I noticed that I wasn't short of breath and that my knees didn't crack or hurt with every step I took. And I felt lighter all day. Both physically and mentally and spiritually.

And I needed this. The weight loss. The lightness. A solution to the problem of not doing something active during the weekends. A second gym membership that will keep me from ever having any excuses to not exercise.

I always think about the big moments of this journey. A new dress bought. Before and after pictures. The possibility of a new wardrobe. But the small moments - like walking up the stairs - mean so much, if not more than, the big moments.

The big moments don't happen so often. But the small moments? Those can happen on a daily basis. And they do happen on a daily basis; I just have to be open and receptive to the small moments.

Starting the day, I should have known that something would happen - that something would click. Because the day started with an email that included a verse. The verse was Jeremiah 33:3 which says "Ask me and I will tell you remarkable secrets you do not know about things to come."

And I asked. Quietly. Almost afraid of hearing no response. But I asked. And He responded. With a small moment - a moment that reminded me that even if I don't think it, He is always present and always working.

A moment that reminded me that He will always keep His promises - even when I wonder.

(title from "think good thoughts" by colbie caillat)

the wonders of my world

Why are you trying so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out?

That quote came to mind last Saturday, and it has remained at the forefront of my mind since. It's a thought I am wrestling with and wondering about.

I've always wanted to fit in. And sometimes I did. Other times, I didn't. Eventually my desire to fit in turned into not caring. I decided that since I would never fit in, I just didn't care at all. Not about myself or what others thought. It started in junior high and carried through to the remainder of my life.

There were moments of doing everything I could to fit in. I would say that I didn't care, but deep down, I did. I cared too much about what others thought. And it led me on a path that I wish I had never taken - a path of rejection and heartbreak and frustration.

I can point to several different periods of time that took me from being carefree to worrying over what others thought then to not carrying about anything and back to worrying over what others thought. Some of the periods of time I had control over. Others I did not.

I was born with ABS (amniotic band syndrome). It was seen in my hands. My left hand had webbing between the fingers, not fully formed fingers, and a missing nail on my ring finger. On my right hand, my middle finger is missing a nail.

At the age of 26, no one really notices. At the age of 26, I recognize that it doesn't really matter and that others have it worse than me. But when I was going to school on the first day of kindergarten and then first grade and onwards, it mattered more than anything. Because in a world where all you want is to fit in, I stood out without trying.

I was born to stand out. Knitted together in my mother's womb, I was designed to be the way I am - missing fingernails and all.

And I'm accepting that fact. More than that, though, I am learning to love the differences and to appreciate the beauty in them. I am also learning to love who I am and to put my faith and trust on who I was created to be and not what the world created me to be.

It's been a long journey to get to a point where I can even consider the fact that I want to stand out. And I am sure I have farther to go in the journey before I am completely comfortable with standing out.

But I am getting there.

And I think for the first time in a long while I am piecing myself back together. Or rather God is helping me to piece myself back together. I was never good at puzzles without a picture to compare to, and right now, that's what I am. There have been glimpses of myself, yes, but of the whole self... that is something I am currently seeking.

It hit me this weekend that I was on the journey to figuring it out. Not just who I am on the inside but how that will reflect on the outside.

Everything started on Saturday with a trip to the eye doctor and a new prescription for contacts. In recent months, I hid behind glasses, but I decided, finally, that I was ready to stop hiding and got contacts. Then I went to Target in search of sunglasses and purchased a pair of bright yellow aviator sunglasses (if they don't make me stand out, I don't know what would.)

And finally, it ended with a trip to Old Navy.

This is hard to admit, but I promised myself that I would be honest with this journey so I won't hold back. The last time I actually shopped at Old Navy and tried clothes on actually expecting them to fit? I don't remember when it was. And I honestly expected the same to occur during this shopping trip.

I loaded myself with dresses of the XXL size. I picked a few that were XL but not many as I didn't expect there to be a need for any size other than the largest. And much to my surprise (and excitement), the XXL fell off of me. Even some of the XL dresses were a bit too big in places. But I found one. A dress from Old Navy that wasn't the biggest size in the store. So I bought it.

I said the dress was brought to me by 19 pounds lost. And on Saturday, it might have been, but as of 12:00pm today, the dress was brought to me by 20.4 pounds lost. I am officially over one-fifth of the way to my goal of losing 100 pounds.

And I am starting to be okay with standing out. I am starting to be okay with putting together the puzzle that is myself and figure out who the real me is underneath the layers I once hid from.

So why was I trying so hard to fit in when I was born to stand out? I don't know, but I do know that from now on I am okay with standing out.

(title from "hometown glory" by adele)

go back to the start

I feel stuck.

It's not by choice, either. Rather, it feels like someone took my tennis shoes one night and filled them with wet concrete. Then, they somehow slipped the shoes back on my feet and crept out of the room. The next morning I couldn't move. And I haven't been able to move since.

I can't pinpoint when it hapenned either. There is no one spot to place the blame. There is nothing I can look back on and say that's where it all started to get really really hard.

I've mentioned how hard this journey has become. There's a wall I have hit. I am tired of the frozen dinners I bring for lunch. I am over the amount of water I am drinking. I am somewhat bored with my workout routines. And I am wondering if this journey to lose 100 pounds is even worth it.

I can look back on the past three months and see the changes I've made. It's evident in the way I feel, how much easier it is to do little things (like tie my shoes or get out of my low-to-the-ground car). And I see it in my clothes. How much shirts are a little baggier and how there are dresses I can wear again - dresses I haven't worn in almost a year.

But to take that evidence and apply it to everything else? I'm not quite sure how to do that.

I haven't completely lost my drive. I'm still working out. Though recently, it has only been 5 or 6 times a week instead of 8 or 10 times a week. I'm still watching what I eat and documenting (almost) everything on Lose It!. Though recently, my choices have not been the best, and hamburgers (and fries) sound so much better than salmon, tilapia, and baked potatoes.

And the weight is still slowly coming off. Painstakingly slowly. I want to say it has most to do with my choices. But I don't know if it does. Because I've worked hard this summer. Harder than I've ever worked before. And while it has paid off in the ways listed above, it hasn't paid off in the way of a diminishing number on the scale.

I tell people all the time not to focus on the scale. I even remind myself of it. But the scale means something to me. It means a whole new wardrobe and a new me.

Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I am putting my identity into the number on the scale. Maybe I am losing sight of the reason I started this whole journey. Maybe I am too focused on the end results I want and not focused enough on the steps I need to take to get that end result.

Maybe I'm overthinking all of it.

There is so much more that goes into a journey like this than just counting calories, breaking a sweat at the gym, limiting my diet coke intake, and drinking liters of water a day. Those things are important, but more important than those is to understand the reasons a journey like this is necessary and to take the time to put yourself first and overcome the internal obstacles you need to overcome.

And so, while my calorie intake has been higher and my calories burned lower, I have taken the past few weeks to care for myself in other ways. Getting some much needed healing. Backing out of some commitments that were not where I needed to be at this moment. Letting people in. Slowly asking for help when it is warranted.

Those are hard things for me to do. So much harder than I can even begin to describe here. But they are necessary things. And, of cource, the most necessary things are also the hardest things.

This journey is also, I think, teaching me how to slow down. Because I want so badly to jump ahead and be at the end of the journey. I don't want to be less than a pound away from having lost 20 pounds. I want to be at the moment when I have lost 100 pounds and am in dire need of a new wardrobe.

That's how I have always been. I've always looked forward to the next stage in my life. The next big thing. I'm so rarely happy and content with the current stage. Even back to when I was 5-years-old and playing with Barbies. All I really wanted was to be a teenager going to high school (and living a life exactly like Kelly Kapowski). And so often, I was disappointed when I finally hit the long awaited moment and discovered that high school in Texas is nothing like Saved By The Bell.

So I am trying to learn how to slow down, how to say no, how to put myself first, how to have grace with myself, how to enjoy my life, how to not only look to the future, and how to eat right and exercise.

It's a journey with no real map. But it is a journey that, as hard as it might be, I will not give up on.

And one day, hopefully soon, my shoes will no longer be filled with concrete, and I will no longer be stuck.

(title from "my broken heart" by noah and the whale)

one voice in a million

I am doing everything possible to remain positive. Reminding myself that I am slowly getting to my goal. But still, I feel myself hitting a wall. It's both mental and physical.

I started working out (again) at the end of April. It was a zumba class here and there but nothing stead. Then I went to a deep water aerobics class, and it all began to change.

The date was May 4, 2011. I pressed send on an email and agreed to begin meeting someone three mornings a week for a short cardio work-out and then thirty to forty minutes of weight lifting. This week I have turned the three mornings a week to five mornings a week. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday will be a short cardio work-out and then thirty to forty minutes of weight lifting. Tuesday and Thursday I will spend forty minutes to an hour doing cardio. And then, for the summer, I plan on attending water aerobics or aqua zumba every day during lunch.

And I will continue to watch what I eat. It's the one thing I struggle with the most. Specifically, I struggle once I am home from work or at a restaurant. It's much easier to watch what I eat while at work because I do not have much choice on eating food other than what I bring to work with me.

As stated previously, I feel myself hitting a wall. Or maybe I have already hit the wall but am determined to climb over it instead of allowing it to stop me. I've let it win in the past and have thrown in the towel and found excuses to support my reasons for stopping this effort to lose weight and be healthy.

But this time, I have done everything to overcome every excuse. Even when I was sick, I worked out. In the past, I would have stayed away from the gym. And that would have led to the same cycle of never going back until months later. I'm proud of myself for going even when I didn't want to.

And I am seeing changes. Slowly. More slowly than I would like, but they are there.

I took pictures on 5/17/11. They were taken about two weeks after I started a regular routine. Two weeks and a little less than ten pounds ago. I decided to also take pictures today. I've heard people say it looks like I have lost weight, but I wanted to see it.

And I do.

Granted, the outfit is different. And possibly more flattering. And I am much more tan, thanks to deep water aerobics and aqua zumba outside (along with assisting/teaching swim lessons five evenings a week). But still it's there.

I see it the most in my face. And a little in my arms and stomach. Such a little thing to see a difference, but it is also such a big thing. I think it was exactly what I needed. A reminder I can go to when I hit the wall and feel like nothing I do will make a change. A reminder that the change is there. I just have to look for it.

This is all about me. It's not about looking better for someone else or fitting a certain mold. I've tried to lose weight for other people before, and it always fails. I've also used other people and commitments as a reason for not being able to work out. But not this time.

I deserve this. Everyone deserves the chance to create the best version of themselves, and everyone should do it. And the things that suffer, if anything does, possibly weren't what you were meant to spend your time doing. At least that's how I look at it. Because it would be far too easy to look at what is suffering and spend my time worrying about that rather than worrying about myself.

Is there a time for service and unselfishness? Yes. Do I want to be able to serve and assist others? Of course. But I also know that I am practically worthless if I have not first taken care of myself.

One of my (current) favorite television shows is Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition. I love seeing real people transform in the midst of their real lives. Last week's episode, chronicled the journey of a man who lost over 300 pounds in just one year. So much about his story struck a chord with me, but the one thing that got me a bit teary eyed was when he said he was going to pay it forward. Once he lost his weight, he would help others. (see more here)

I don't know if I will be in a position to help others lose weight, but I know my heart is to help others. I am passionate about foster care and adoption. About families. About ending cycles of abuse and neglct. And I want to be the best advocate I can be for those going through difficult times. I want to be the best person I can be for the children and parents and families and loved ones who need a helping hand and who need to be reminded that someone cares for them.

And so I continue on my journey. And one day, maybe a year from now and maybe longer, I will get there. And I can't wait to see what happens both during the journey and after the journey.

(title from "strip me" by natasha bedingfield)