72.5

Since August 2nd I have lost 72.5 pounds.

The words don't mean anything to me. I keep thinking It should have been more, I am still not under 300, wow, I have such a long way to go.

In three months, 72.5.

M yelled at me. I'm not trying to be difficult. I'm not trying to be ungracious or snotty or snobby. I am not trying to have some sort of victory pity party. Because I am not. I am trying to understand what this means. That although I am still over 300, I am a size 20/22. That I am getting rid of clothes left and right. That I am way more active than I ever thought possible.

I don't fit comfortably in my desk chair anymore. It feels weird. Same with work. The comfort that used to be there is gone and now it's just a chair. The arms have somehow moved further away from my body. Magical transforming desk chair.

I have a couple goals I want to accomplish. The big one is to come back from Tokyo under 300. It's totally do-able. Another is to work out while in Tokyo, and do some walking. Maybe, possibly even do some swimming. I have goals for further down the road, but those aren't for sharing yet.

72.5. I am going to appreciate what I have accomplished.

My "goal weight" according to the doctor is 146.5. I was rounding the corner on 4th grade the last time I saw that number. Holy crap. I'm not sure I can get to that number. Or even want to. I use the term "goal weight" losely, because I don't think that's my goal at all. I would reconsider at 160 maybe. 180 would be a good start.

Wow. It's been only 4 months. And my body is changing in great ways. I sometimes forget and want to eat a cheeseburger, and I can't. I sometimes forget and want to get a cookie, but I can't. Not like "oh that's bad for me" but the physical "Can't".

When I was in Mexico I smoked. Now, the idea of smoking completely turns me off. but I have moments of I want to. However, "can't" shows up, and I can't think of buying a pack, or asking someone for a loosie. Just can't. It's foreign to me to even look at the cigarette display behind the counter, as well as the candy display at the counter, the fast food place or the bakery.

I threw out a half of a pumpkin pie and a cheesecake. And leftovers (except I am TOTALLY eating mom's meatloaf before I go), including bagels, hummus, stuffing, green bean casserole, mash potatoes, 7 layer salad and turkey. I do not know this person who just throws away food when she is done with it. There is a bit of guilt attached to doing it, but once it's in the trash, no more guilt. I don't need or want it anyways.

All this to say, 72.5, and going. And moving and grooving. Apparently this does work.

Check Up

I have my three month check up tomorrow. I was supposed to have it last week, but the Doctor had a cold.

I have so much to do before tomorrow. I'd have loved to have lost another 7 pounds, but that has not been in the cards. However, I got through Thanksgiving with love and generosity and a healthy does of photos. Soon to be updated (thanks D). This next week I leave for Japan for a conference. I am so not packed, or ready, or anything. Somehow, I'll work it out.

Therapy didn't suck. It was actually great. I am very glad I didn't run away from it. I have to remember this is me taking care of myself, giving me the tools to have a great life.

I just want to say, I have REALLY amazing friends. REALLY. And my parents-- for as much as I bitch-- they are LOVELY.

Okay, back to bed. Night all!

Is it Normal?

Is it normal to want to back out of every stinking therapy appointment? I know that working with someone to deal with the emotional issues that come up from losing weight, or overeating, or anger or letting myself not be numb is a good thing, and ultimately will be helpful in having me be the best person out there, but let me tell you, right now-- I want to do everything but that.

I started to fill put forms, mostly questionnaires on what I feel when I feel, and I kept getting stuck. Because I have felt bad in the past, but don't right now. And am doing that thing where I don't want to look at the past right now, because I am still who I have always been (although getting sleeker every day) but I am still that woman that doused her troubles away with fried ranch covered goblets of goodness. And still walks into Wendy's hoping that she can do it again. But this woman then walks right out the door. Not running screaming, mind you, but at least out the door.

But these forms. They go on forever. And ever. And wow, I so don't ever want to have the level of detail of this emotional inventory. Ever. Or at least can we start with the happy stuff? C'mon already.

I am still deciding if I can just bail on the appointment. The victory would be to go and just say what's there for me. At $200 a pop. What a fucking scam. Although the lady is nice, and I did get to work through some interesting stuff last time.

Okay okay, I'll go. I would rather go back to bed and not go into work today, and see the doctor about the sore throat, but instead, I'll go to therapy.

Sheesh. Fine. Be that way.

Back and Forth and Back and Forth

I have over the last week not exercised at all. And eaten chocolate. Last night I did something great (hmmph-snark)-- I made oatmeal cookies with chocolate chunks and raisins. And had one. And gave the rest out. And got that crap out of my house.

This week I have two of my dearest girlfriends staying with me. D-- all the way from Cali-town, is most likely in the air as I write this. There will be tons of photos and tourist things with her. And D2 is coming up from Virginny on Tuesday. She will also play the tourist, but with some idea of where she wants to go and what she wants to see-- and then all of us will head to mom and pop's for gobble gobble, but I think we are going to do the Turkey day parade before. I am so excited to have my girls here.

Both of them know me so well. D2 has been a friend since high school-- we lose touch ever couple years, and then jump right back into it. And she knows my folks well, and they are really excited to see her again. And D has never met the folks, but she will feel right at home. She asked "Is Thanksgiving formal in your house." and my response was, "As long as you wear a bra and pants, then you are dressed for dinner."

I include this picture from the Luchas Libres (Mexican wrestling) as it fits my mood right now. Hiding, defensive, and completely wacky.

My promise this week-- ONLY meals. NO Snacking. And Balanced meals-- with vegetables and plenty of protein. My hair looks like it is thinning up top, and I refuse to be that woman. I also refuse to be the woman who "tires to get away with it". From now on, it's make it happen time.

I will have the low fat pumpkin parfait mom has lovingly made. And have one piece, and no stuffing. Maybe some stuffing. Or only my favorite part, the sausages part.

Something Else

I could tell you all about Mexico, and I will, I promise in another post (I've forgotten the cable to download photos from my camera at my hosts house, and well, I'm not sure when I will get it back). However, this is kind of about Mexico, but more about confidence.

While down there, walking the streets of Condessa, I enjoyed myself. Window shopping, trying clothes on in shops, having cafes in cafes..... wait. record drag. Trying on clothes in shops?

Yes.

A very cute designer with clothes not for the pretty plus person I am and have been for my life had a small sale. I tried on coats, dresses, shirts. Nothing really fit, but it is a matter of pounds. Jackets were slightly tight in the arms, dresses were inappropriate for NYC winters, and the shirts-- well let's say the colors will be better in spring. And also, a matter of being able to look at clothes that aren't from the LB or Avenue and guess about the size I am.

I went to the Luchas-- Luchas Libres-- professional Mexican wrestling. (More on that later) This is what did not happen-- men attacking me for being round, catcalling me as I paid for my mask and beer, or whispering nasty things to me as I lit up a cigarette (it was Mexico, I smoked for 1 week only). What did happen was very nice looking, well educated men lit my cigarette, bought me beverages, and offered to walk us back to the car. In the cafe, another well-educated nice looking man asked me out on a date.

When I went walking on the street where my friend lives, there was no catcalling, no insecurity. I held my head high, and although my Spanish is terrible, I communicated to the world that I am a powerful, sexy, well-educated, beautiful woman, and that I am not an object of lust no more. I am no longer that woman who will "make due" or settle or expect to be whistled at in the street like a dog. I am now desirable in a way I have never been. I am now a catch, whole and complete, because I believe myself to be. The men I encountered smiled, nodded, and quietly lusted, rather than the full frontal vulgarity that happens to women of a certain size with men of a certain age.

I have always been the girl that has made friends with the frat guys so that they won't make fun of her, the girl that has poked fun first, etc etc. Now, I am a woman, solid, proud. No holding my breath as I walk down the street to listen for the inevitable comments. Now I let comments surprise me. For so long, I have been holding my breath, waiting to hear what I have always said to myself "not worth it, ugly, fat, lazy" and now I say something bolder, something more enlightening......

"You are a beautiful woman, an entire package, and a great catch. Stop mucking around with the peanut gallery."

I am turning into the woman I have always wanted to be. The nice thing is that some of my friends from way back are telling me I have always been that for them. Well, now it's the truth, because I have made it so, both inside and out. Confidence abounds, and lordy it's gorgeous.

I'm Back

Expect a long post somehow, later today. However..... big exciting news.....

I am 8.4 pounds away from being under 300 for the first time in my 20's/30's.

The day I walked into Jenny Craig, I was 17, and I weighed 309 pounds. That's what I weigh today. Holy crap. I lost about 40 pounds on the JC, and gained it all back the first week of college (hello, pint sized Ben and Jerry's is NOT a meal?). In my adult life, I have never been under 300, or at least I don't think so. I think there was a time in the 295's but come on.

I look good. Curvy. Still thick, and I am not ashamed of it. I walk great, run better, and have smaller clothes.

Interesting. It's working.

A little taste of Mexico

I'm about halfway through my trip, and today is the first day of vacation. I am so so happy. I slept in late, ate some leftovers, and now am considering heading to a museum. I'm not sure. I might sit on the balcony and read Generation X. And feel disgusted.

The wedding was spectacular in a beautiful and deliciously cheesy way. Ahh, it's all for a longer post, but needless to say I danced with man men in tuxes, had on a pretty great dress, kept my shoes on and a fight broke out over a coffee that I ordered.

For now, entertain yourselves with the photo above. That's right people, indoor fireworks.

Gotta

love Mexico.