Less of Paige

Thursday, August 31, 2006

My Family

Today is Love Thursday again.

This is a picture of my immediate family- my husband, and my cat. I took this when she was a bitty kitten, and so fuzzy and cute. She's still a kitten to me, but isn't quite as fuzzy anymore. My husband's not quite as fuzzy right now either. ;)

Monday, August 28, 2006

Moving On

Three months ago, on or about May 29 or something, I weighed myself. I was 211.8. Today I weighed myself. 189.4. That is twenty-TWO point four pounds gone. When I do my Firm videos, and I have the two ten pound weights on my shoulders, and think of how heavy they are, I used to carry that weight around with me all. day. long. All day. No wonder I was so tired all the time.

So now that I have met goal #1, I'm moving on to goal #2. Which is another 20 pounds by 11/29, the date of my next Sugar Doc appointment. I have a feeling these 20 will be harder, but I am ready and up for the challenge. Here we go again!

Sunday, August 27, 2006

I did it.

I set my first goal to be 20 pounds by the next time I see my Sugar Doc.

I saw him on Friday.

On my scale at home, I weighted 190.8. That was 20.8 pounds LOST. Gone. Finite. Adios. Buh-bye. I was so excited that I jumped up and down and quietly shouted (someone was still sleeping). Then I got ready to go do the Sugar Doc.

I arrived and they took me back to take my blood and the moment of trust arrived. Last time I got on their scale the tech said "210". Friday? Friday was grand. Friday, the tech said "188". Music to my ears. lalalalalaaaaaaaaa. Even better than I thought. I was very excited. But more moments of trust were waiting. I had to see if the 22 pound weight loss (20 pounds, depending on which scale you're using) had lowered my insuling. Last time I was there it was 59.

So. I go into the waiting room and wiat for my doctor. He comes in, writes for a while. He says, "So you lost 12 pounds". I think I said, "Look again buddy". He had read the 210 as 200. I corrected him, and he told me I did a good job. He handed me my labs, and next to insulin it said 14. I said, "Is this MY insulin? 14?" He smiled and told me yes. I almost got up and did a little jig.

It felt so good. So, so, so good. It made not having Dairy Queen or Dunkin Donuts all summer long worth it. It made all the salads worth it. It made weighing every. single. meal. worth it. All the sleep I lost because I got up to exercise? Worth it.

It was icing, really. Because the feeling better, having more energy, having clothes fit, not feeling like crap all the time, getting compliments, wearing smaller sizes... those have all been fantastic. But I guess- well, those are the icing. The real benefit is that my health is better.

I was so nervous. What if my insuling wasn't lower? What if I hadn't lost the 20 pounds? What if it was 19? What if he told me it wasn't enough? What if, what if, what if I failed?

But I didn't. And my sugar doc said the one thing that I have been thinking- "this tells me you can do it". It DOES. This tells me I can have the discipline to make the right choices, bottom line. I'm stronger than my emotions and my impulses. I can make the right choices.

This feels good. And it's time to move onto my next goal.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Love Thursday

Love Thursday has been declared. I'm in. Click on the link, read the comments, click on those links... this is grand. If you blog, play along.


Love Is:

My niece and nephew. Brother and Sister.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006


So. Turns out that what I eat, and whether or not I exercise, actually has consequences.

Yes, I know. If I haven't figured that out by now, what is the point? Really, though?

These consequences, they can be positive or negative. Like, when I follow my 'xchange, and exercise, I lose weight. And when I don't, I either don't lose or I gain weight.

One time, I wrote this long post about how I hate when people say, "Just eat right and exercise". I still hate it when they say that. I think it's ridiculously insensitive. Like 99% of people who are overweight haven't already thought of that, and tried, more than once. More than 10 times. I stand by the fact that losing weight is much more of a mental game than a behavioral one.

See, I do know that what I choose to do has consequences. But that doesn't always mean I make the right choices. Why is that?? WHY?

I went away to see my mom this weekend. From departure to arrival and back again, I ate crap. I didn't exercise. I could have walked, or actually done a video, or SOMETHING. I chose not to. I gained three pounds. THREE pounds. I was almost at my goal. Then, before I left, I was at my goal (but it doesn't count because it wasn't a monday. Please don't ask.) Then, I came back, and I weighed myself. And I was up three pounds and two pounds away from my goal. dammit.

Not only did I gain weight, but I felt like CRAP. I'm not kidding. I had no energy. My stomach hurt. I was moodier. I got lazier and lazier. It really, really sucked.

Am I beating myself up? For once, no. I'm moving on. I have done great the past two days. I'm bound and determined not to let one weekend kill me. It's not the occasional weekend that put on the extre 80 pounds that I carry around, it's the belief that one weekend turns into months and years. This time? I'm not letting it. I'm looking for those positive consequences, instead.

Also? You guys, I see the old Sugar Doc on Friday. I had my blood drawn last Thursday (before my mom's) and I'm nervous. Not only do I want him to tell me my insulin has gone down significantly, I need him to tell me that. I'm scared of how I will react if it hasn't. I hope, and will work towards being ready for either news, and towards having either news motivate me to keep going. But still. That's easier said than done.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

The Tunnel

Two of my favorite bloggers wrote recently about weight. Yvonne talks about being at the end of her rope. Amanda talks about her gastric bypass, which she's very happy about.

They are two vastly different posts both about weight.

They both made me think of the tunnel. If you read Yvonne's post, and the comments, I commented about a tunnel.

Weight loss can seem like a tunnel. You know that phrase, "the light at the end of the tunnel"? It's one of hope. The light is supposed to create hope- there is an end to this experience. I think that in weight loss, when you start you start for a reason. Because you're at the beginning of the tunnel, where it's very very black. You start to lose because something has motivated you to finally change your habits and make changes about how you are living and how you look. I think for a lot of people, this beginning of the tunnel (or bottom of the barrel, or rock bottom, or lowest place) can be either a monumental event or a small one. I have had two. The first time was when I could no longer fit into my "fat pants". They were so tight on me that I had to change beteween work and an evening activity- I had to go to Old Navy and buy sweats so I could be comfortable. That was was started my first go-round with Weight Watchers and somewhat successful weight loss. The second moment was less of a specific moment in time and more of an accumulation of doctors visits during which no less than four doctors told me I had to lose weight or I was at very high risk for several medical conditions. After the fourth doctor, I decided it might be time to take it seriously.

The first time I lost weight, I had a big goal. 80 pounds. I got to thirty five before I just quit. I just got so tired. I was tired of counting points. I was tired of thinking all the time of what went into my mouth. I was tired of struggling to exercise. I was tired of dealing with plateaus. I was tired of talking about my weight all the time. Tired of going to weight watchers meetings. Tired of being held accountable by everyone about what I ate.

I got to the point of the tunnel where the darkness had begun to recede and so it didn't seem so bad, but the light at the end of the tunnel was very, very dim. It wasn't bright enough for me to believe I could reach it.

That was the worst part. And that time, I just gave up. I stopped counting. I stopped being accountable. I stopped trying. And I gained back around 5o pounds. Right now, that I'm back somewhere in the tunnel (not the halfway point, closer to the darkness than the light) I'm so pissed that I gave up last time. I know why I did it and I forgive myself for it. But I'm sad I did. I'm sad that all that hard work was essentially wasted. I'm sad that I gave up on myself.

I can't guarantee that won't happen again. I am a food addict, after all, prone to relapse. But i am going to try very hard not to. I am going to try to keep these habits with me and keep moving towards the light. I know what it feels like to get closer to my goal then move far, far away from it. Barring pregnancy, I'd like to not have the scale move up like that again.

My heart breaks for Yvonne. And for Amanda. And for all of us who struggle with this. Because it is so painful, and effects so much of our lives and who we are. And it never feels done. As Amanda said, she didn't have brain surgery- so while her body changed, her brain didn't. And alot of what we struggle with has much more to do with our brain than our actual bodies. It helps to be able to put my feelings somewhere. And say to whoever's reading- this is HARD. It's fun when I have losses, but it can still be hard to have to worry about it everyday. I am LOVING the payoff right now. But I can't even think about or consider this being a "lifestyle change" because that continues to be far too overwhelming. If I pretend it's just a diet, and hope it turns into a lifestyle, great. But the thought of dealing with this for the rest of my life- well, I just can't go there. I have to take the tunnel one day at a time.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006


The other day, my sister said in a somewhat accusatory tone, "You don't blog anymore".

There's not real reason other than time. I haven't had a ton of it at home lately, and well blogging falls away.

As far as the weight, I'm up to a 15.4 weight loss. This is HUGE. I've waved goodbye to the 200s and have less than five pounds to go before my first goal of 20 pounds by the time I'm back with the Sugar Doc. I cannot wait to tell him I've lost 20 pounds.

Here's what I want to tell you today: I have changed my mind about something. Once, or maybe twice I've talked about hating exercise (listen, I'd link to them but... I just can't figure out how to do it easily right now and am tired). I really, really, really hate(d) exercise. Sweating? For the birds? Getting up early? For suckahs. Um, all that has changed. Since something like March, I've been doing the Firm videos. And I haven't stopped, since I started. If I do say so, this has been the longest EVER that I've stuck with exercise. I look forward to it in the morning. The days I take "off" I don't feel as good, I have less energy, and I kind of wish I had exercised that day.

I think maybe I've been transported to an alternate universe, maybe? I am the girl who will use any excues to not exercise. I mean ANY. Bad hair day? Skip it Too tired? Eh, sleep's more important. Got a zit? Don't want to get sweat on my face! Exerised two weeks ago? Want to let my muscles rest. Now? I Like it. yes. I have now said that outright. I. Like. Exercise. (this kind of exercise. Let's not get crazy. not all kinds. This kind.)

I have MORE energy than I used to. I feel more energized and awake on the days I work out. I feel like I can more around more easily. Went to a major zoo this week, and had zero problem walking around ALL DAY. I wasn't dragging, I wasn't wanting to complain, I was just enjoying being outside in the 9trillion degree heat and walking. AND I had worked out that day! The craziness just doesn't stop.

There we are. Stay tuned to hear about some of the other changes going on over here in less of paige. I'm sorry for the absence.