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. 

Body Awareness

One of the things that allowed me to keep functioning...well, somewhat functioning, before I had my surgery was the fact that I never really realized how big I was. Yes - if I was aware of potential issues with going to unfamiliar places - - seating, walking, standing, etc. Yes - I would immediately become aware during those instances where the general public thought it their place to comment on my size. But day-to-day, task-to-task, it wasn't a consideration. I knew I was overweight. I knew my physical capabilities were limited. But that just became so commonplace that I didn't even really give it a second thought most of the time.

Now that I've dropped 155 pounds, it is strange to me how much more aware I am of my body. Things it can do. Things it still can't do (my knees - the left specifically - are still being a pain in the ass) How running errands is no longer something I need to fear. My whole body doesn't ache for the day (especially my knees & hips) because I went to Target for 20 minutes. I don't get as many looks as I used to - - possibly because any amount of movement doesn't cause me to be dripping sweat like it used to, or possibly because - dare I say - I might be slowly coming out of the "shockingly huge" body size? This is not to say that I am small by any means - - but maybe... just maybe... my size isn't quite as noteworthy as it once was? I have noticed that at work, if I need to walk over to someone's desk to ask them about a call I'm on, I don't have to sit for 15 to get back on the call because I'm so winded from walking 20 feet. I don't have to search for the closest parking spot, because any extra walking is taxing.

As much as I'm paying more attention to my physical presence - I'm also still completely oblivious to changes is so many other ways. Just last night were a few reminders - - I still brace myself when stepping off a curb. I used to almost have to turn sideways to step down off the curb because my knees couldn't support me walking/stepping down like 99.9% of the population would. I still look at a flight of stairs with dread - but I wasn't even winded when I got to the top of it. We walked up this inclined ramp to get into the grandstand, and I felt that old familiar panic before we started up it. But I can do it now. Yes - I was sweaty after walking up the ramp, through the enclosed building, down 2 flights of stairs and then up a flight - but not dripping sweat - just kind of sweaty. I wasn't out of breath. I didn't need to take a break. I can do it now. But my brain hasn't quite absorbed the fact that I can do it. It still doubts me. I guess I'll just have to keep pushing it until that pesky fat brain decides to get with the program.

waiting for Alabama w/ the fam, and greatest photo bomber

My ass, on the other hand, is still an issue. Seating, is still an issue. But I'm trying to fight my tendency to act like a complete bitch when my size-anxiety/uncomfortable feelings come up. We went to the Alabama concert at in the Grandstand at the MN State Fair last night. Last year I was too huge/immobile to go join my fam - so I was pretty damn excited to go this year. We took the bus, walked around a bit, and then headed to our seats. The "floor" seats in the grandstand are basically folding chairs hooked together. 30 of them in a line, with no space between then. Now - although my rear end has gotten a bit smaller - it has not gotten small enough to fit on a folding chair without spilling over. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into - but that didnt' stop the old feelings of panic. But my family was awesome. My mom took the end seat of our group, so I could smash in between my sisters with tiny butts. About 5 minutes after sitting down I could feel the anxiety leaving because I was so happy to be there with them - and I could tell they were pretty happy I was there too. My brain will continue to be a tricky bitch, but I just need to keep trying things. No longer letting the fear determine my activities.

The good news is, with the volume of squats Scott seems to think I need to be doing these days, my ass will be shrinking in no time!

"The key to change... is to let go of fear." - Roseanne Cash

I didn't believe I was a person who lets their life be dictated by their fears.  I don't tend to process every shred of new information, and turn it into another thing to fear.  Other than my extremely rational fear of mice (kidding - I know it is ridiculous, but that makes it no less terrifying) I don't think there is a lot that I am afraid of.  I have told my sisters that "knowledge is their enemy".  One sister hears of a shark attack, and is certain our deaths are near if we go in the ocean.  The other sister is absolutely positive that jellyfish are just waiting for us to go into the water, so they can take us down.  I have fallen victim to (well - really everyone that saw this picture suffered) from their neurosis on our final family trip before Wendy got married.  We went to Jamaica, and my sisters wanted to document the beautiful view with a sister picture in the ocean.  The problem?  When you are certain all sea creatures are waiting to attack, you are unwilling to go in water above your ankles.  Seriously.  This is just fine when you are a size 0-4, and look cute in your bikini.  It is NOT so fine when you are a size....ummm...not 4, and you have to stand in all of your bathing-suited glory next to them and smile pretty.  It has given all of us a number of chuckles since then - but still makes me roll my eyes at those silly sisters and their fears.

Since signing up for my trek to FC - I have been trying to look at myself honestly and objectively, and figure out what my fears are.  I figure that if I put them out there for the world (or the 5 people who willingly subject themselves to my "blogging") to see - everyone can try and help me conquer them.  Are my fears the thing that has been holding me back?  The hard part about this list of fears, is that there isn't anything that is concrete.  I am not trying to be able to will myself to bravery when I see a rodent (which includes, but is not limited to: mice, rats, chipmunks and squirrels).  This is much more scary - - I am trying to overcome problems within myself.  The problem is me and my brain.  The things I let out, and I have been willing to talk about, are one thing.  They are totally normal (money, living situations, etc) issues that everyone deals with.  I am thinking that my major hurdles are emotional issues - and that isn't something I am so good with.  I am an emotional cripple.  I have issues with expressing myself.  I am dead inside.  And even though I have these short-comings, I have to figure out a way to deal with these things:

1. Breaking out of the "I've tried this before, and it didn't work" mindset.  Let's face it.  I am not a moron - I get it.  Eat less pizza, burgers and fries - and eat more fruits and veggies.  Drink more water, than beer.  I have tried Weight Watchers and LA Weight Loss.  Everything works - IF YOU DO IT!  I get that.  And I have done it.  And it has worked.  And then I stop.  I have even come up with my own medical condition: self-destructive personality disorder.  I use it to describe this situation.  
2. Managing Expectations : I am going away for four weeks.  I am leaving my family, friends, work - everything - for four weeks.  I only have to worry about myself (still so amazing that I get to do this - it just doesn't seem real, yet) for a month!  My fear is that people are expecting that I will come back after 4 weeks as a completely transformed individual.  I will be half my size, and nearly to my goal.  Even if I lose 10 pounds a week (OMG - could you even imagine!?!?  That would be so rad!) - that doesn't really make a dent.  On the average person, 40 pounds would be a ridiculously high amount to lose.  When you are as.... insulated (shout out to hibernating for the winter!) .... as I am, it is a really good start - but probably not anything that is going to make a shocking amount of difference regarding my appearance.  I am worried that the people allowing me to go, won't think I did enough with my time there - and that sucks.  
3. My Biggest Fear: Sticking With It: I have done this before.  I have been struck by the rare medical condition: self-destructive personality disorder, in the past.  I have gained back every pound I have lost, and then some (and by some, I mean a LOT of some).  I have chosen the path of least resistance (my couch) over working at a healthy lifestyle.  I have chosen dormancy over movement.  I have chosen easy over healthy.  The most exercise I was getting was from Knitting - and that doesn't really get your heart rate up!  I have chosen laziness over working.

Despite the things I have listed above - I am optimistic.  I am feeling really ready for this experience, and the changes it is going to bring.  I want to live a better life, and I am ready to grab fitness by the balls. (just seeing if you were paying attention)  I am ready to choose activity over inactivity.  I am ready to choose me over my couch.  I am ready.......