The Schedule

Over the last threeish years, the positive improvements to my life are seriously way too many to track. Although this new life I lead has become the norm - - so commonplace I rarely recognize it as anything that hasn't been my existence from the start. I don't want that to sound like I'm not grateful for the changes I've experienced....I do still have random little moments where I think back to how it used to feel to do whatever it is I'm doing at the time. Or realized it was not so long ago that there is literally not one chance I could have done what I'm currently able to do.

But I am realizing also that all of this positive has also come with what can, at least at times, feels like a negative. My schedule. Or more accurately, my intense need to stick to my schedule. 

I live my life by a series of alarms. A set of parameters that I've adjusted over the last few years, but now cling to like a life-line. 

People that have had the type of surgery that I've had (Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy) are told to wait 30 minutes before eating/drinking - - so basically when I finish my meal, I set an alarm for 30 minutes, and that's when I can drink. I do the same when I finish drinking - - a 30 minute alarm is set, and then I can eat. Now, there are times where I don't follow this to a T, but those are typically infrequent - and there is usually a reason beyond: I need to shove food in my mouth this second! And that is exactly why I continue to follow the 30 minute rule all of these years later. I feel as though it helps avoid what could become a lot of mindless snacking. So this portion of my schedule seems pretty required/legitimate, would you agree? 

Here's where things can get a little more tricky. I am consistently in bed between 8:30-9:30pm almost every night. That's not just school nights - - that's EVERY night. But how can this be when you're such a vibrant, young, single woman out on the prowl, you ask?!?! The answer is - I'm really only one of those things...I have moments where I think trying to pull off a vibrant woman on the prowl would be fun...but then I get tired, and I go to bed. But seriously - - I am certain sleep is at least partly responsible for the fact that I've been very successful since my weightloss surgery. I am also certain it is a huge part of why I haven't had the plague (no major cold/flu) for the last couple of years. I'm crazy diligent about my sleep - - so if you want me to attempt to be social with you, we need to do it early =) 

Another reason for the early to bed thing...especially on the weekends in the summer...is that I want to get my butt out and go for my walks early in the AM. As much as I trust myself, to an extent, to get out later in the day and get my workout in - - it's never a good idea to push my luck. Plus - it's an absolutely lovely way for me to start my day. I throw on my headphones and go. I'm typically just about the only one out there, so then it cuts down on the irritation I experience when other walkers/runners are so damn rude they don't even acknowledge my existence...but that's a whole other topic.... Anyway - especially after essentially sitting on my ass for the first 5 months of the year, getting back in my routine has been extremely comforting for me. As much as I still don't love working out (the weights/gym stuff), I love the result and see it's necessity. Endorphins are real, and they are my friend. Walking is my therapy. My disposition needs me to work out...for the welfare of others...

I prep and portion/weigh/measure out 95% of what I eat (at least). I eat the same things over, and over, and over. Every "work" night, I get everything prepped and ready for the next day so I can just grab it and go. I spend a reasonable amount of time most weekends prepping food for the week. No excuses. When I try to cut corners on this process, it inevitably comes back and bites me in the ass. It stresses me out, and I don't like it - - so I've absolutely recognized its benefit. I am no longer willing to skip this and "wing" it. 

I think a lot of what drives this is, unfortunately, fear. Since my surgery I've had a couple of scary moments (I blacked out with my niece at the MoA - I stayed upright, but it scared the hell out of both of us, I think. Then there was the morning I fell on my face twice when I was getting ready for work - - no one ever could figure out why that was) so I make sure I eat and drink...often. On a schedule, if you will. 

My fear is also based on the fact that I've failed every other attempt to lose weight. That was 41 years worth of trials and failures. That's a lot of damn time to just forget! And as much as I trust myself more now - - it took about 2 years post-surgery to finally believe that I could do this, and I would stick to it - - I still have moments where I'm just waiting for it to all fall apart. I trust myself to stick with it, but I'm still very conscious of the fact that it could all go to shit. 

So I stick to my schedule. At times I'm extremely militant about it. It is the thing that helps me continue to believe I can stick with this long term. It makes me feel in control, and it has been working, so I continue to use it. I may miss out on some things - but what I've gained, to me, is absolutely worth it. The volume of things I'm able to do now, the level at which I can consistently participate in my life, seems like a very acceptable tradeoff.