when all is done

My husband's alarm sounded at 3:58am on Monday morning. I rolled over and drifted back to sleep and then silenced my first alarm that went off at 4:02am. At 4:10am, my husband asked if I wanted him to make me coffee. I said no and then drifted back off to sleep until 4:20am when my second alarm went off and I rolled out of bed.

I slept in my gym clothes the night before. It just seems easier to get out of bed and already be in work out clothes. There's something about changing out of comfortable pajamas and into comfortable gym clothes that just seems wrong, so for me gym clothes (the not-yet-sweaty kind) are my pajamas.

I was out the door by 4:45am on Monday and on a machine in the gym by 5:00am. It had been so long since I started the day off with cardio that I expected it to be difficult. But it wasn't. It was so much easier than I thought it would be and so much easier than it had been in the past.

Monday I felt invigorated. I still needed a large cup of coffee and then a diet dr. pepper to accompany my water, but I didn't drag as much as I normally do. I made excellent choices for lunch - researching my options and then selecting a salad without any dressing. By the time the first part of my work day ended, I was ready to head back to the gym and this time focus on circuit training.

30 minutes later, I was done for the day. My body was sore. But I was still energized - though I started to feel the effects of 75 minutes worth of exercise by the time 10:00pm rolled around.

Tuesday morning was much the same as Monday morning. I didn't hear my husband's alarm and had only one alarm set for myself. It sounded at 4:30am, and I proceeded to turn it off and hit snooze until about 5:30am when I finallly pulled myself out of bed and once again entered the gym - jumping onto the Expresso Bike (which I love - it's like spin class but you get to watch scenery as you bike) at 6:00am.

I squeezed in a 45 minute session of cardio and then made my way home so I could shower and pack snacks for the day.

I'm being careful and doing my best not to overdo the exercise. Balance is something I've never really attained throughout this process but it is something I am working towards. And so tonight I am taking the evening off from the gym and spending time with my husband instead of spending time with the elliptical.

One thing I know I am guilty of is jumping all in and then, when I don't see the results I want (or when life gets in the way), jumping all of the way out. I don't want to do that any longer. I want to continue this journey and stay the course. I know that I won't do everything 100% perfect, but I know that now is the time to do as well as I possibly can.

After my last post, when I admitted that my weight starts with a 2, I received several comments about my honesty and my bravery. I'd lie if I said I believed I was brave. So often I feel like a fake and like a failure. And I'm often not honest about that.

But I was on Tuesday night. I told a friend at our c-group about just how much I was struggling. And then, with her encouragement, I told my husband just how much I was struggling. Those conversations were difficult, but they were necessary.

Weight loss is my journey. It's something that only I can succeed at, and it is something that only I can fail at. But I can not do it alone. I've tried, and it does not work.

My husband doesn't understand all of it, but he does understand that weight loss is my own struggle. He understands what it is like to feel as though success will never come. He has his own struggles that have followed him from year to year, so he listens, offers me his love and his support, and then lets me continue on my journey. Just as I do for him.

Our conversation continued late into Tuesday night, and when my alarm went off at 4:30am this morning, I knew I needed to take the time to sleep rather than to sweat at the gym. So I did just that, and when I woke up, I showered and then immediately packed my gym bag so that I can sweat this afternoon.

(title from "eventually" by pink)

done looking for the critics (week 13)

This week, I've thought a lot about letters. I've even sent a few out into the universe care of twitter. There's so much left to say - so much I haven't had time to say this week - and I can't form all of it into a blog post, but I can write letters.

Dear Husband,
I'm glad you've found frozen food (steamable Lean Cusinines, anyone?) you can eat when I'm working nights. And I'm even more glad we have family and friends who will feed you homecooked dinners. You've been so supportive with me changing jobs and working two jobs, and I am so grateful for that and for you. Our lengthy phone conversations make me feel even closer to you. Can't wait for an entire weekend with you (and our two demanding dogs).


Dear BootCamp,
You challenge me. And it scares me. I want to challenge myself when I'm not with you (at you? doing you?). But I don't know how to. I'm hoping that my last week with you will be the exact amount of knowledge I need to be able to challenge myself when I'm all alone at the gym. You also hurt - although I don't realize that until the next day. Thank you for reminding me that I'm not yet ready to run a marathon (or even a 5K). Also I hope to find your replacement soon and also hope that you can forgive me for thinking/saying you can be replaced.

Dear Self,
You might be sabotaging yourself. Or maybe you're just upset with the scale and giving into the higher number. Please remember that the scale fluctuates daily. You know what your real weight is. Remember that. And don't be afraid to ask for help if you can't seem to get the scale to go down. The number you see there is not the end all or be all. Also - do more jumping jacks and squats and go run/walk at least two miles today; that's an order. (PS: if you don't make it to the gym, forgive yourself and then do extra miles over the weekend and more squats; that's an order too.)

Dear Weight Watchers,
I've said no nearly every time someone has mentioned my joining you. I've said you were too expensive and that I didn't have time for your meetings. I think, though, I might have to join. I'm worth spending the money and time on after all. If I do become a member (again - we met in high school, remember?), please be nice and gentle.

Dear Husband (who gets 2 letters a la Today's Letters),
I don't know if I was supposed to see it or not, but I noticed a particular book sitting on the dining room table. Thank you, and I promise to act surprised if I am not supposed to know it's there. You listen so well and remember the things I want the most. Thank you for loving me with my love language and being patient with me as I continue to learn how to love you with your love language. (PS: I love revisiting our first dates and can't wait to be your "super hot" wife once I finish losing all this weight! Also thank you for supporting my ever changing hair color. Can't wait to be blonde [again] like I was back when we met in 2008.)


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

done looking for the critics (week 12)

I'm still here - just adjusting to a new normal. That's how the next few weeks, maybe in the next month or two, will be.

My new normal includes a 60-hour work week. Right now, it's 20-hours at a part-time job and 40-hours at my current full-time job. In a few weeks, it will be 20-hours at a part-time job and 40-hours at a new full-time job. It sounds crazy to type that out and claim it as my life, but it's there. And I know that it is right where I am supposed to be.

But knowing it is right where I am supposed to be does not make it any easier. In fact, it makes a little more difficult because I can feel myself easing into the transitions and allowing things to take their course rather than planning how I will transition.

I see it the most, right now, with food and water and how those things seem to be slipping away from homecooked dinners and into fast food dinners where I don't make the best choices possible.

I'm not home at dinner time now. I'm driving between two work places and stopping at the healthiest and quickest place I can think of. And every time, I have a choice to make of what I will order. So far I haven't made the healthiest choices. I've had french fries instead of a salad and sourdough bread instead of wheat bread. I don't know why, though. Is it that I miss those foods and am saying to hell with watching every morsel of food? Or is that it's just so much easier to order food the way it comes rather than ask for it to be changed?

And the gym. Right now, I complete my work-outs during my lunch hour and then return to work sweaty and a little stinky. When I start my new full-time job, I may not have that as an option. So, then, when will I have time? I honestly don't know, but I do know that I will make time for the gym.

If I can make time to work two jobs, I can make time for the gym. If I can make time to spend with my husband, I can make time for the gym. There is no excuse for not having time.

And water. I don't drink nearly enough water. I try to, but I don't make it a priority. That needs to change - maybe more than anything. My body is craving it. I feel dehydrated when I wake from a night's rest. Yes, my food choices need some improving, but I've stayed at or below my calorie allotment each day this week. I have't consumed the amount of water I need.

So I know I need to plan much better than I have. There will be little time in the mornings to whip up dinner, and foods cooked in the CrockPot need to be done so the night before so I can take them for lunch, and maybe even dinner. And I need to recommit to myself and to this journey. Because without commitment, I will fail.

The commitment part almost seems more difficult than the planning. I am so tired of having to commit and then recommit. I am exhausted from reminding myself of why I am doing this in the first place. I'm over looking in the mirror, in the midst of zumba or another class, and seeing a girl that still has so long to go.

I'm ready for the journey to be over. I'm ready to know that I actually did it. I'm ready to see the hard work pay off and not just hear from others that it is paying off. I'm ready to be healthy and fit and to be able to tell others that they too can do it (without feeling like a hypocrite).

Right now, I feel like a hypocrite. I feel like a liar for telling people they can do it when I'm hurriedly eating dinner from Chik-Fil-A. I feel like I am somehow failing myself, and everyone else, because I'm not even to the halfway mark.

And yes, I could watch what I eat more and drink more water. I need to do those things. But even doing all of that exceptionally well does not guarantee that the scale will go down or my clothes will feel looser. The body is a tricky thing and sometimes it decides to hold onto the weight while other times the weight seems to fall off. Right now, I feel like my body is holding onto the weight, and refusing to let go, and it's making it difficult for me to remember that all of this is worth it.

I say all of this because it is where I am right now - not because I am giving up. Because I'm not. I know I have come to far to say "screw it" and return to the life I led before. I'm just trying to figure out how it all works together and how to make all of this my new normal.

Because it is my new normal. This weight loss journey doesn't end when the scale shows me I have lost 100 pounds. This weight loss journey ends when my life ends because even after I've lost the weight, I will still fight for my healthiness and fight to keep the weight off.

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

done looking for the critics (week 11)

There are many things I love about the blogging world, and one of those things is interaction. On Thursday, a few questions were asked on one of the blogs I frequent, and I've considered my answer since Thursday morning.

What keeps you motivated? What keeps you inspired? Why do you continue to fight over and over again for your healthiness? Is the reason you started different than the reason you keep fighting?

I thought about my answer for roughly thirty seconds, read through some of the already posted answers, considered everything I've written about on my blog, and then typed out I do it because...

• I feel better about myself.
• I’m less stressed (and less bitchy to be honest) when I’m exercising.
• I’m healthier.
• I like seeing the diminishing number on the scale.
• Once I hit 100 pounds lost, I get a new wardrobe.
• I deserve to love myself.
• I want to be the woman God intended me to be – and that means healthy.
• I know I am not alone.
• I’m worthy of feeling beautiful.
• It is time to stop hiding behind the weight and start living my life for all to see.

Those answers are true, but there's more to it than just that. Of course, I didn't realize that until I started "shaking my ass" in zumba at 12:00pm that day. Watching some of the girls in the class, I realized how much I wanted to feel comfortable in workout attire and in a workout class. It reminded me that I don't want to feel like the fat girl any more. I want to feel, and look like and be, the fit girl.

I want to be able to wear cute workout clothes from Lululemon (as well as from Nike and Jillian Michaels line). I want to shop in any store I wish because I know the clothes are likely to fit. I want to be proud of my body and no longer ashamed. But I didn't mention any of those things in my original answer to the question because I was ashamed and didn't want to seem vain.

If vanity were the only reason I was losing weight, I would have quite by now. I might look better than I did when I started in April, but I'm so far from where I want to be that I sometimes wonder if I will ever get there. So I remember the other reasons - that I feel better about myself, that I'm a nicer person, that I'm healthier.

I get comments from people that I look so much better than I did months ago - that the changes are evident. I believe them, but I struggle to see those changes myself. Because I want to be at my ideal weight, wearing clothes from J. Crew and Express and Lululemon - not in the process of getting there.

Still, it's good to be reminded of why I am doing what I am doing. It's good to remember all of the reasons I have to get off of the couch and into the gym. It's necessary to hold onto the reasons I cook dinner instead of stopping at Taco Bell or Wendy's.

Reading the responses to the questions was also inspiring. It reminded me that we all started with a reason to work out and to eat better. Even the cute girls in zumba started with a reason. For all I know, they started where I was: unhealthy and needing a change. And it's essential that I remember that rather than look at everyone else with frustration because they are where I want to be.

I'll get there. Slowly but surely I will get there. And I'll remember that just because the scale doesn't reflect my effort does not mean that my body isn't changing. Muscle takes up less space than fat, and I'd rather be a higher, healthier weight with lean muscle than a lower weight with lots of flab.

Because while it is about the diminishing number on the scale, I have to remember that a 5 pound loss on the scale may look more like a 10 pound loss on my body  - especially considering how much more room fat takes versus muscle. Until recently, I didn't really think about that, but now I try to remember it every time I step onto the scale and pass by a mirror.

Eating makes a huge difference in weight loss - a bigger difference than exercise really as you can't out exercise a bad diet, but exercise makes a bigger difference, for me, in every day life.

What does it for you? What keeps you motivated? Why do you continue to fight over and over again for your healthiness?

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

done looking for the critics (week 10)

I flew into Texas earlier in the week. My flight landed early in the morning, and I immediately went to breakfast (really lunch for me given my early flight) with my mom. Then it was shopping and finally the first massage of my life. After that, it was welcoming my aunt's surprise visit and then setting about making, and eventually consuming, dinner (my mom grilled salmon, we made eggplant ratatouille, and also made mashed potatoes out of cauliflower - it was delicious).

The quickness of the trip continued when I made breakfast for my mom (a 2 egg and 3 egg white scramble with a poblano pepper, a green bell pepper, mushrooms, spinach, and feta cheese along with a side of canadian bacon), finished getting ready for the day, and then spent the following afternoon with my mom, my aunt, and my nana where we ate lunch at a Japanese restaurant (I ate a house salad, sashimi with jalapeno and cilantro as an appetizer, and then also a sashimi roll with fish and avocado).

There are some principles I haven't followed for the first two weeks of the South Beach Diet. I mentioned some previously but have added more - like several glasses of wine and a total of one cupcake over the span of two weeks.

I also mentioned before, and will continue to mention, that I refuse to be angry at myself for these things. Because this is real life, and real life is meant to be enjoyed - not just survived.

It all comes down to choice. Sometimes we don't make the perfect choices, but we can still say no to the things we don't really need.

We had a shrimp boil, and I said no to both the potatoes and corn (I eat steamed cauliflower and broccoli instead) but yes to the wine and part of a cupcake. I could easily think that these yeses were a mistake, or I could remind myself that it is not every day that I am in Texas, celebrating my mom's birthday, and that it's okay to enjoy a few glasses of wine - especially since I rarely drink in Oklahoma.

I'm adhering, still, to the principles of mainly carbohydrate and sugar free eating but balancing it with the beauty that life offers in the form of a glass of pinot grigot.

And I am so thankful for this week. It's offered me the chance to look at myself and my life and to see just how far I've come. It's also providing me the chance to realize just how much I enjoy this process of healthy living and thus sharing my experiences.

As I said earlier, my mom surprised me with a hot stone massage. I've always loved the idea of a massage, but I've always been fearful of actually having one. I carry most of my stress in my neck and shoulders, and so I am always tense. Whenever someone tries to rub my shoulders, it tends to hurt because of how much stress I carry and because of how tender I am.

Luckily, the massage was a wonderful experience. It didn't hurt. I felt relaxed the whole time, and I couldn't believe an hour had already passed.

The strange part was that I talked to the masseuse the entire time. Most of the conversation was about exercise, food, and eating healthy. Maybe I should have been quiet and just relaxed, but I felt a little awkward lying face down on the massage table, naked and covered by a sheet, while someone worked on all the kinks in my body. So I talked.

And after the massage ended, once I finally rolled off the table and got dressed, I felt incredibly relaxed as well as incredibly excited that I got to talk to someone about what I've done so far to lose weight.

I tell people that I started this journey at the end of April in 2011 and that I've lost 35 pounds so far. The response is always the same - excitement of my loss and encouragement at how well I have done so far. It's hard for me to accept that response as I often feel like I haven't lost enough weight and quickly enough. But what I realized after the massage was that it doesn't matter how quickly the weight comes off.

I wanted to lose 100 pounds in a year. That's not going to happen. It wouldn't be healthy to lose 65 pounds in three and a half months. But those 100 pounds will come off - maybe in a year and a half or maybe in two years. And as it comes off, I'll be able to continue to share my story and remind people that it is possible to lose weight.

My desire to be on The Biggest Loser or Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition is still present. But I'm now more aware of how important it is for people to see someone "normal" (AKA without a famous trainer, unlimited grocery budget, or environment designed to help weight loss) clawing and crawling and fighting to lose the weight at home.

Because we all deserve to be healthy and happy. And we all have the tools to do it. I just hope that my story somehow gives you the tools to do it; because if I can do it (and I can), then I promise you can too.

If it takes a year, great. If it it takes longer than a year, great. As long as we do it, the time doesn't matter.

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

done looking for the critics (week 9)

I wish I could be on The Biggest Loser or Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition. I so wish I could be. But I can't.

There's nothing stopping me from applying other than myself. And maybe the fact that I might not have enough weight to lose.

The thought that if I gained more weight and then tried out has crept into my mind. If I got back to the weight I started at, then maybe, just maybe, I could get on the show. It's backwards thinking since I'm already well on my way to losing 100 pounds.

But there's something about seeing people's stories on television that gets to me. There's this huge part of me that wants nothing more than to be able to put my story out there on television as well. It's not that my story is all that interesting - because really it's no different than most people's. I've had plenty of hurts. Plenty of things have happened that helped me to gain weight. But I've dealt, and am dealing, with those things. I'm peeling back all the reasons I gained so much weight in the first place, and I'm taking a good, long hard look at myself in the mirror. And I'm learning to love myself again.

I'm doing all the things the contestants on The Biggest Loser and Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition do - working out, trying to eat right, sorting through all my issues. And I'm documenting it all here on this blog. But I'm able to filter some of it which isn't possible on television. I'm able to choose what I talk about and what I share. With a television show, it wouldn't be up to me to decide what aired and what didn't. That would be in the hands of the editor and producer.

I think that's part of the reason why I want to be on a show. I want there to be no filter, and honestly, I'm just not brave enough, right now, to take the filter away and talk about every single thing that led to my needing to lose so much weight.

But with television, there wouldn't be a choice. And with television, there would be a trainer and a life coach there with you - available always by phone. With a blog, there's just me and the gym. I have friends I can reach out to, but really it's up to me, and only me, to work through whatever I have to work through. Really it's up to me to succeed.

You can still fail with television. I know that. There was one failure on last season's Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition. And while it hurt me to know that person wasn't able to lose all the weight, it made me respect the show so much for their determination to be honest and really show that one person's year long story.

And, really, with a show like those there is so much support available to you. A home gym provided inside your house and healthy groceries for a year. Do you know what I could, and would, do with those things? Do you know how wonderful it would be to not have to worry about where to buy groceries and how much I am spending? Do you know how great it would be to know that as soon as I got out of bed I would have access to equipment?

I'm sure most people do know. Most people want those things too.

There's a part of me that has really wondered if I could do this. A part of me that thought losing 100 pounds would be impossible. And there's a part of me that, for about a month, made it impossible.

I've always been equally afraid of success and failure. If I fail, then what happens? But if I succeed, where do I go next? A month away from the gym was my way of stopping my success and also ensuring failure.

You see, when you spend months and months working out, it becomes a part of you. If I was angry, I exercised. When I was upset, I spent time on the elliptical. During the times when I was stressed and anxious, I turned to the gym.

And then I stopped. I blamed in on strep throat. And then on exhaustion. Finally on my knee. And instead of handling everything with time in the gym, I stopped handling things.

Stepping back into the gym on Monday was equally wonderful and terrible. I climbed onto the elliptical and finished a work out that rivaled the work outs I did before I stopped going to the gym. And I felt proud. Excited. Alive.

But then Tuesday came, and the time I spent in the gym was horrible. I was on the verge of tears during my time on the elliptical and then on the stationary bicycle. I didn't know why.

It happened again on Wednesday and on Thursday. All of these emotions rising up in me. Memories of how out of place I felt the first time I entered the gym. Memories of all the time I spent not exercising, all the time I spent taking care of everyone else but never myself.  Reminders of how scary it is to begin living your life in a completely different manner.

I was on my way home from work on Thursday when it hit me - the reason it was so hard to get into the gym again after a month and the reason I've felt on the verge of tears all week. I took in a deep breath and then I let the tears fall. And I promised myself that, even though I'm not on a television show and even though I don't have what those of television shows have, I would never again let myself fail or come close to failure.

Because, not only can I do this, I am doing this.

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

done looking for the critics (week 8)

I've loved reading for as long as I can remember. As a child, I had my parents read me The Berenstain Bear's Go To School nightly. Around the age of 5, I excitedly told them that I knew how to read and proceeded to "read" every single page. In reality, I recited the story from memory and also knew when to turn the pages, but in my child's mind, I was a genius.

My Nana was a reading specialist, before I was born, in Detroit, and so stories were also important to her. She had my dad read to me, while I was in my mother's womb, and accounts my love of the written word to this. I would have to agree with her as it's apparent that I was born both a writer and a reader.

In college, I (eventually) majored in professional writing. Through the courses in the school of journalism, as well as the English courses I took while a creative writing major, I read a lot. Some were books I enjoyed and wanted to read. Others were not. This onslaught of reading made it quite difficult to read just for pleasure, so I didn't - unless I was on vacation.

The same could be said for writing. I did do some writing for pleasure but most of it was for class and for a grade. I learned so much during my five years of college - not picking a major made it difficult to graduate in four and I probably would have stayed longer if I could have - but I also lost my love for the written word.

It's taken me nearly four years to rediscover it. Four years of really only diving into a book while on vacation. Four years of rewriting and editing the same novel. Four years of writing short stories only when someone gave me a prompt because it was too difficult for me to think of an idea. Four years of simultaneously forgetting everything I learned, remembering everything I learned, and reminding myself that it is okay to need help with writing.

The irony is not lost on me that it took me an entire bachelor's degree to recover from the bachelor's degree I hold. At least this time, no one had to pay for the courses - though there's plenty of bills to pay for real life.

I finished a book last night. The third in The Mortal Instruments series. I couldn't sleep, except for between 11pm and 1am and then again 4am and 6:50am, so I worked on a few things around the house and read. I started the books only a few weeks ago, right after finishing The Hunger Games, and I can't wait to dive into another book.

With every book I read, I feel like I discover something about myself. Sometimes its a new author I love. Other times its content that shows up on the blog. Not every discovery is big or earth shattering, but it's there.

This time I realized how badly I want to be an author. I've mentioned it before on the blog - more in passing than as an actual statement. And then I have gone about my life without diving into life as an author. Because doing that is scary. But I know it's who I am and that the longer I spend not writing the more I will feel adrift.

And I have been adrift the past few weeks. Not exercising. Struggling with what to eat and how to eat. Losing my footing on this journey towards health. It all goes back to defining who I am at the core, and who I am at the core is a writer - whether numerous people read my blog or no one read its; whether I become a best selling author or I'm never published.

The first book I ever wrote was a children's book. It was for an assignment in school. I wrote about a skunk who got trapped in a high school - the high school I ended up attending and graduating from. I illustrated the entire book as well and enjoyed telling of all the skunk's adventures. My mom still has the book.

The second book I really wrote was for class. I had (and still have) half-finished manuscripts and other stories I wrote for fun, but my senior year of college, I completed an entire novel about a girl who goes to China and what happens when she comes back.

Now I'm working on my third book. It's slow, but it's getting there. And maybe, just maybe, third time will be the charm.

I think rediscovering myself as a writer is integral for every aspect of my life - especially the journey of losing (and then maintaining the loss of) 100 pounds. Because if I don't have as firm a grasp as possible on who I am, I doubt the weight loss will be something that sticks.

So I'm on my way. Working diligently on the novel. Thinking about it all the time. Anticipating the next time I can write. Fitting it into my daily schedule, even if for just a few minutes. Just like I will once again do with exercise.

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

Note: this post was sponsored in part by Blue Matter Marketing. All opinions and thoughts are my own. For online writing tutoring, please visit www.thewritingfaculty.com - a site that provides assistance and tutoring for writers of all ages and levels.

done looking for the critics (week 7)

Today is the last Friday of 2011.

A large part of me is saying good riddance to 2011 and willing it to leave as quickly as possible. I want to forget much of it and move on to 2012 with the hope that 2012 will be the best year yet.

The thing with hoping for a best year is that you have to have sometime to compare it too. And while I am excited for what is to come, I also know I have so much to be thankful for. 2011 taught me so much about life, love, myself, and writing. 2011 helped me to open myself back up to possibilities and friendships.

I may not remember everything about 2011 but there are some things I never want to forget.

In January, I broke my silence after two months of no words. I struggled with letting go.

In February, I considered where God had led us. I thought about where my heart is. I wrote but not as much as I should have.

In March, I started to count my blessings. I celebrated my husband's 25th birthday. God continued to teach me.

In April, I finished telling the story of us. I won a short story contest. I was pushed out of my comfort zone. I attended the 8046 conference.

In May, I worked out in the morning. I wrote a few of the women in my life letters for Mother's Day. I tried to write every day in May but failed.

In June, I celebrated 15 pounds lost. I thought about just how much can change in a year. I made a list of goals.

In July, I felt stuck. I realized just how hard it is to lose 100 pounds. I continued to struggle with control.

In August, I reconnnected with an old friend. I started the South Beach Diet. I tried to stop comparing my story to other people's stories. I considered the similarities between writing and losing weight.

In September, I revisited the vows my husband and I made. I celebrated three years of marriage. I completed a 5K to raise awareness for suicide prevention.

In October, I started a weekly series. I celebrated six months of weight loss. I wanted to quit but kept going instead. I burned 989 calories in one day.

In November, I made it back into the gym. I celebrated the small things. I won the Steel Ovaries Award.

In December, I opened myself up to 2012. I contemplated what Christmas really means to me. I started to see myself the way others see me. I began a bucket list. I admitted to my lack of time in the gym.

Looking back, I realize just how much good there was in 2011. I see the thread that held it all together. I recognize the lessons I was meant to learn and realize the growth that came form the struggles. I feel God's presence in all of it. And I'm so thankful to have had the chance to look back and remember.

Now it's time to look forward and make 2012 the best year it can possibly be.

What do you remember about 2011?

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

done looking for the critics (week 6)

I say that I am on a weight loss journey. And I am. But this journey is about so much more.

It's about figuring out who I am once and for all. It's about sticking with something and not giving up when it gets to be too hard. It's about dreaming and then making those dreams come true.

I don't have a lot to say today. I haven't had much to say this week. Because I've spent time thinking and processing and dreaming and planning.

But I wanted to share something with you all. A few of the items I've added to my bucket list.

Along with my bucket list, I've listed some of the things I've already done.

Life is hard. But it's beautilful. Sometimes we notive the hard things too much and forget how much we have done and how much more we have left to do.

It's time to remember. And for me, it's time to live. 2012 is almost here, and I feel like this is going to be the year for me. What about you? What's on your bucket list? What have you already done?

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

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)

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)