FUPA Removed...sort of... : one year later

I've been hesitant to write this post. See....I tend to vomit up whatever I'm feeling onto the page, and then hit post and walk away. I don't really edit. I don't concern myself with being PC - as this is my experience, told from my point of view - so I figure I might as well be honest about it.

But the concern I have with this method, regarding this topic, is that I'm going to come off as ungrateful. Ungrateful for the opportunity to have this surgery done. Ungrateful for all of you supporting me and keeping me motivated through it. And mostly that I'd seem ungrateful to my family who put their lives on hold to take care of me, and do all my chores, and make sure I was taken care of...for WEEKS. I am so absolutely appreciative for all of that - - and I don't ever want there to be confusion about that.

That being said - pretty much all other aspects of my first skin removal surgery - - my Circumferential Body Lift (aka: FUPA removal) - - have me going through a ton of emotions. Actually - who am I kidding - - it has me experiencing ALL the emotions. I looked them up - apparently humans have 7. So I experience even more than these emotions - - because I feel a whole lot more than 7 things.

I experience happiness and surprise... Some awe... A little pride thrown in for good measure - when I see that I have a flat-ish stomach. It's not perfectly flat. There is still extra skin there (to be expected, within reason) - so thankfully I don't need to feel compelled to strive for a 6 pack, as that shit just is not happening no matter what I do. But for the first time in my life, when I look down, I don't see my stomach/FUPA sticking out. It feels pretty frickin sweet.  So there is good. About 50% of it is good.

But then I realized a couple of months ago that I don't really look at my body...but now it is not for the same reasons I used to avoid looking. Before I was just so big, that if I looked...I mean REALLY LOOKED... I likely wouldn't have left the house. I NEVER would have changed in a locker room. I wouldn't have let anyone near me without being 100% fully covered.

This is different. This is avoidance, due to the other emotions: Anger, Disgust, Sadness, Fear & Contempt. I'm still using not registering my body as a defense mechanism - - but for very different reasons. Every time I look at the area of my body lift - at the scar line, and the areas surrounding it, I typically experience one of these emotions.

Yes - of course there are times where I look and I'm still pretty damn jazzed - - especially when I finally observed how light my scar lines were getting. Who knows how long they've been this light - - because I don't recall even seeing them for a long period before then.

But the overwhelming majority of the time, I'm some varied version of pissed.

I'm still so incredibly mad that my surgeon didn't tell me he was in over his head. That he put me under, without a solid plan of how he was going to execute this surgery - ALL of this surgery, not the parts he could get done within his allotted time. What a fucking coward. To put me through the surgery, and that recovery, without getting everything done is just unacceptable. Or maybe he's just so incompetent he thinks he did get everything done. Maybe he legitimately things a woman wants to have all of the loose skin/fatty tissue left on her lady biz....that we desire to be able to tap one side and have it ripple like a water bed? Maybe he thinks I wanted my crotch to be crooked. SERIOUSLY CROOKED because he just fucking left it untouched during the surgery. I honestly cannot even begin to guess what the hell he did to my ass...but I can assure you it looks worse. WHAT. THE.FUCK. WAS. HE. DOING?!??!?!

But more frequent than my overwhelming contempt for him, and what I perceive to be completely unethical practices, is the anger I have at myself. I chose him. I met with other surgeons - one who has proven to be an absolute gem (used for my 2nd surgery) - - and I chose THIS GUY!??!???! My brain allowed me to pick someone who couldn't be bothered to proof read his after-care instructions - not once, but twice!??!!?!? I picked a guy who had no idea how to deal with my particular needs, and wasn't professional enough to just admit it. I let this guy do the most invasive thing I've ever had done - with apparently no plan/no idea how long it would actually take him. He had me in there MUCH longer than he said he would - and still didn't finish the job. And then post-surgery when I'd try to ask him about it, he'd completely brush me off. What an unprofessional asshole.

I am genuinely more self-conscious of my body now than I was before. Before I was just a really, really, big gal - - but it was what it was. No big surprises. Now - with clothes on - you expect one thing, but then SURPRISE! It's a crooked waterbed crotch and a misshapen rear end! When I sit it looks like I have a pillow stuck in my pants at my crotch/upper thighs because of all the extra skin he left. And every time I see it, I get pissed off....

So the anniversary of this surgery brought up a bunch of shit for me - - I know, I know...after this swearing rant, you guys already knew that. It's made me shut myself off more than usual. Most days I unconsciously avoid looking at the areas that trigger me. Some days I forget, and then I have to have a talk with myself. When I look at my lap I have to have a talk with myself. On those pissed off days I have to end my pep talk with "fuck it - - you could have died"...because honestly I can't believe something significant didn't happen with the amount of walking that moron had me doing after my surgery...

So like I said - - I'm about 50/50. Grateful I got to get most of that albatrose (all of that extra skin) off me....but so disappointed in who I let do it.

Like with all of use & with all things, I'm going to need to buck the fuck up....and I will. But I'm also allowing myself some time to feel what I'm going to feel about it....

Looking at these pictures actually makes me a little proud of how far I've come - - even the one that looks like my asscrack goes up to my middle back, unless I pull my skin apart. What the hell is that about!??! The things I don't notice, because I don't look that closely....

My Brain vs Plastic Surgery : Part II

I'm struggling here, guys. I try to keep the negative to a minimum. I operate in a fairly content/happy place most of the time these days - - but I am having a really hard time forgiving myself for my abysmal decision regarding my first surgeon. I am mad at myself for choosing him - for putting "he seems pretty laid back & I like his cowboy boots" and "I can save a few bucks" over the important shit, like "he's actually worked with people with a lot of skin to remove" and "he knows what the fuck he's doing". I didn't ask nearly enough questions. I didn't ask the right questions. I didn't put in enough work to insure I was going to have the best experience, and results. I chose someone who couldn't even be bothered to proofread their after-care instructions! It is irking my ass to no end that I'm still bothered by this, but telling myself to let it go is proving much easier than actually doing it. I feel like I've kind of closed myself off from people because I'm still cranky/sad/pissed/annoyed by this whole experience.

I'm hopeful the next month will provide the time I need to "get over it". I'd like to try to regain some of the excitement I had prior to my last surgery, before all the pissed offness began..... I'd like to be pumped to see what my body is going to look like when this excess flab is removed, instead of feeling complete indifference. I'm hopeful this disinterest is at least partially caused by the fact that this winter sucked total balls, and now that it's warming up things will improve in the "Natalie's Disposition" department. Fingers crossed, everyone.

My healing from FUPA removal is going fine - I just have one small spot on my lower left back that seems reluctant to close up. I have a few spots along my scar line that aren't as smooth as the others, but they appear to be healing. My lady-biz is a daily reminder of my error in judgement. It's saggy and crooked - seriously. The scar has a hard spot in it. There's a spot where it kind of bunched up and healed. The right side is much lower than the left - (caused by walking 2 hours a day starting the day of surgery?) contributing to the crookedness. My butt looks worse than before the surgery...I genuinely can't figure out what the hell he was doing there... But the positives are: I'm back with my trainer. I have good range of motion. My overall health is fine. I just keep reminding myself things could have been so much worse than a crooked vag.

In an effort to move on - -
I have my 2nd surgery scheduled with Dr. George Landis for Friday, April 26th. He'll be removing my wings (excess skin on my upper arms), removing my flaps (loose skin under my armpits, on my sides, and installing boobs (putting them back in the vicinity of where they go, and adding a smaller implant). He graciously agreed to provide any post-op care for my first surgery, so I was able to sever ties with boot scootin' boogie (aka: my first surgeon).

I really like him. I like his vibe - also chill, but a little more profesh. He has worked with people who have lost a lot of weight, and he gets it! When I told him I don't want to walk out with absurdly huge boobs he just nodded and told me "after people lose a lot of weight, they're just kind of done being big". BINGO! So accurately stated!

I have my pre-op session with him April 11th, where I should learn move about care and limitations after surgery, and get more instructions. I did tell him the good news for him is, if he gives me correct after-care instructions, they will be followed. Needless to say - we'll be going over instructions verbally, and as a group, to make sure we're all on the same page.

So at this point I'm just trying to get out of my own head. Trust this surgeon, who was a very close 2nd after the first round of surgeon interviews - - but when you have to pay for every cent of these procedures, the lower bill won out. I'm now fully understanding that you truly "get what you pay for"...

NSV: The Closet

I realized the other day that there has been another transformation that has taken place since my gastric bypass surgery. It was a little less obvious than the physical changes. Not something I am as aware of as the emotional changes. But it is a change none-the-less.

For the 5-10 years (at least) prior to April 18, 2016, I had barely used my closet. It was this area of my house that I tried to ignore. Inside it were a number of garments, ranging in sizes and colors and styles...not one thing in there that would fit. I had jeans in sizes 28, 20 & 32 - most of which wouldn't go past my knees. I had sweatshirts is sizes 2XL that hadn't fit in years. I had button up shirts and pull-over shirts with varying degrees of stretch - all in size 26/28. I had attempted to wear some of the looser, more forgiving (see also: really stretchy) shirts until the last year or so - - but they too had just been hanging there. There was a layer of dust on the top of each hanger, and the clothes hanging on them, because they hadn't been disturbed in such a long time. 

My wardrobe those last few years was made up of about 10 pieces. A pair or 2 of sweatpants - I believe I was wearing size 5X right before my surgery. A few maxi-skirts, which I discovered were even more forgiving than sweatpants, in 4X that I could order online from Target. A few t-shirts - men's size 5X - in long & short sleeve varieties. 2 short sleeve/cowl neck sweaters that were big enough, and long enough, to keep all my things covered. That was it. These items, along with some outrageously sized underwear and few pairs of socks, would rotate between my body, my laundry basket and my washing machine. 

If I kept these very limited number of things in the laundry basket - I didn't have to look at all of the things in my closet I could no longer fit into. I didn't have to have that particular daily reminder of my size, and the lack of options that caused. I didn't have to get slapped in the face each morning when I realized I could no longer fit in the largest sizes available at the "big girl" stores. 

And so it went until I started dropping some weight...when I was like a toddler in reverse because I would grow out of clothes so fast going the other direction. I would try on those old, dust-covered options - - often waiting too long to try them on, and missing that tiny window where they actually fit. I received donations from friends and family - which was just so kind and awesome, and also something completely new! You don't exactly have a lot of people that can give you their hand-me-downs when you're damn near wearing the biggest sizes manufactured. 

And just like that, I started building up an actual wardrobe. Nothing too fancy - - I'm still cheap as shit, and refuse to spend any real money on clothes until I'm done being nipped & tucked to figure out what sizes actually fit! 

It dawned on me just the other morning how weird, and amazing and comforting it is to be able to have this many options. To have a closet full of clothes that actually fit! (except for that one pair of Lucky size 14 jeans...they have until June to fit, or they're out!) Everything in this room can be worn. Some may be a little bit. Some may be a little on the tight side. But all of it can be worn if I'm in the mood. For anyone that has ever been really limited on what they're able to wear, you guys will understand why I'm going to go ahead and count this as a major NSV (non-scale victory). 

The changes...the amazing positives...that have come my way since deciding to have this surgery are still coming in almost 3 years later. They're physical...and emotional....and both...and neither....and I'm just so grateful for all of them. 

Natalie and the Terrible, Horrible, No good, Very Bad Day

Let me start by stating that I absolutely hate what I am about to do. People who post cryptic, passive-aggressive statements or posts in what seem to only be a feeble attempt to elicit sympathy, or concerned questions about their welfare...it drives me bonkers...but here I go....


Today has been the most colossally shitty day that I can recall in a really, really, really long time. I'm not going to get into much for details right now because I feel like I need to give the situation, and myself, a minute before I spout off about things that could correct themselves (although that is seeming unlikely right now). So lets just leave it at the fact that today was absolute shit...and go from there.


Now...over the last few years I've developed slightly better coping skills. Where an emotionally taxing day in my previous life would likely end in some combination of: chocolate cake, beer, French fries, Cheetos, wine, pizza, big macs, copious amounts of queso, vanilla vodka, a Baconator or 2.... I have now typically turned to some sort of physical exertion to help deal with my emotional turmoil....

• a long walk with my headphones on
• a quick, but strenuous, ride on the elliptical
• two words: slam balls!!! (Scott's best purchase)
• flipping tires - although I normally hate it, it makes you feel slightly invincible

So what does one do when their body has been sliced all the way around, and they can't do shit? None of the things on the list that have now become stress-relieving go-to's are allowed. I can't even go for a fucking walk because it makes me swell up, and makes my upper vag sensitive as shit!!! I can't even take a damn bubble bath. About the only thing, not food-related, that I can do is scream into a pillow - - and even that would probably make me pop a fucking stitch.


The best I could do was try and run the couple of errands I had as quickly as possible, and get my ass home. Drive past all of the fries and pizzas and chocolate cakes. Get myself to the warm, safe haven of my house. Get into my chair. Cover up with my blanket. Allow myself to feel whatever the hell it is I am feeling. Eat my taco meat with jalapeno dip. Keep the (non alcoholic) liquids flowing. And maybe, just maybe, find the outlet I need by firing up this computer and venting right here. Swearing as much as I fucking want to swear.


Not shoveling things "in" to try and make me feel better, but letting things "out". Let my frustration and pissed-off-ness and overwhelming disappointment out in a....questionably...constructive way.


There's still a decent chance I'll be in tears at some point tonight - - my emotions have been a little too close to the surface for the last couple of months - - and both being pissed off and sad/hurt/disappointed tend to bring me to the brink. And if I do, so be it. At least I won't be crying into a beer....which I count as a slight improvement for myself.

My Brain vs. Plastic Surgery

As odd as this is going to sound - there is a small part of me that is kind of sad to be having these skin removal surgeries. I've gotten used to this body. I know this body. I know it's capabilities and short-comings. This loose, soft, mess of a bod has become my normal. And as much as I poke fun at my vagina neck and my scrotum arms - and as much as I bemoan when I hear my FUPA slapping against my legs - - I'm also kind of proud of this body. 

This body hung in there pretty damn well when I pushed both of our limits, taking us to almost 500#. This body tolerated those early "workouts" when every damn thing about them made it hurt. This body kept going, and kept working - shockingly never having a serious injury we needed to work around - until we gradually got to this point. 

So all of that might help explain why although I'm looking forward to this next step, my brain has had numerous doubts. This is going to seem so scattered and random - - but scattered & random is exactly what has been going on in my head the last couple of months... 

Do I really need to have FUPA removal surgery? There isn't really that much skin on my stomach... I can totally live out the remainder of my days unaffected by this... 

You have lost all shame. You rock tank tops all summer, even with your scrotum arms swaying in the breeze. Why do you need to cut off the flub? You've survived this long with them - - what's 20-40 more years? 

You are not a girl that lacks confidence...are you? What are doing this for? Who are you doing this for?

Is the cost/pain/time associated with these surgeries really necessary? I mean - it's not like there is something I'm going to be able to magically do post-surgery that I'm not able to do right now. Cutting off my FUPA is not going to make me a marathoner (my knees and hips are shot - - removing a few pounds isn't going to change that). It's not like I can't get out of bed, but I will be able to once I have my scrotum arms chopped off. 

The boobs. Good God! The boobs! This is the part I'm having the hardest time with... I mean...it will be the weirdest to suddenly have boobs after rockin' these crepes for so long. It's not like I went through something traumatic like my brave, strong, amazing friend who had a double-mastectomy, and more than earned herself a set of sweet cans. I bulked WAY up, then shrunk down a bit - and my tits packed their bags and left... Don't get me wrong - having some boobs that are actually where they're supposed to be, should be pretty sweet...but seriously...I'll be a girl who had a boob job (insert eye roll)

Is this just entirely too vain? Honestly. Vanity has felt, at times, like the only legit factor in choosing to go through this. To put myself through the pain. To make my family take care of me. To be "that girl" that was trying to attain a perfect body through surgery. I just have moments where this feels incredibly narcissistic and selfish. 

But the truth is - there is no other way to get rid of this loosey-goosey skin suit. It is not going to magically contract if I just keep applying lotion. There is no amount of exercising on the planet that is going to tighten this mess up. This is quite literally my only option to not have a swaying orb floating around me at all times. 

I share all of this to let you know that I don't take this opportunity lightly. I fully recognize how lucky I am to be able to do this, and I'm 100% committed to making the most of it. I am very aware of how amazing it is to be surrounded by the supportive, loving, kind, entertaining, giving people that I am. 

I am so excited (and intrigued, to be completely honest) to see what we've been working on the last 3 years - because this has been a group effort. There is no way I would be where I am now without you guys helping to keep me going. I'm happy I get to share the good, the bad & the ugly with you.

I cannot fathom what it will be like to actually see what is underneath all of this...flub. I genuinely cannot even picture it. It's mind boggling. 

Now let's see what's next...let's take Natalie 3.0 for a spin, and see what she can do...

Have you submitted your guess for the weight of the FUPA? Do that here: Guess the weight of the FUPA (I fixed the link)

It Puts the Lotion on the Back

I think I was born with a FUPA...I probably came out of the womb covered in goo, rocking a fupe. I don't recall a day where I didn't have one. Sure - there were varying degrees. Some smaller - some so, so large. Now it's can best be described as saggy...a loose pendulum swaying side to side with my movements. 

While I had issues working around my whole body those last few years, my stomach was definitely one of the most problematic. I couldn't bend at my waist - - so trying to get my shoes tied, get a golf ball out of the cup, and a million other things - proved nearly impossible. You should have seen me struggle to cut my toe nails, or paint them...laborious to say the least!

This most recent version and I have developed a rhythm. For most of the past couple of years I co-existed with this more deflated version of my FUPA less than consciously. It became automatic to tuck my multiple layers around it, trying to keep the crevices clean & dry -- doing my best to not develop any of the painful looking rashes/skin irritations I have seen others suffer from. It became this soft and squishy extension of myself that I honestly barely noticed...

Well...barely noticed until I'd do certain things at the gym. When I exercise, I repeatedly reposition my workout pants to try to keep them between my FUPA and upper thighs - bound and determined to avoid chafing. Any sled-pushing, and burpee-doing, would result in an audible slap of my FUPA against my legs. Scott claims he couldn't hear it, but that sound was deafening to me...

So as my FUPA and I enter the end of our time together, I've tried to pay attention. To not overlook the inconvenience it causes. To not diminish the tedium of insuring my skin is properly protected and cared for. To actually see the drawbacks of having this dangling mass hanging off my body - - not just the weight of it, but not being able to see some of the progress I've made working my ass off for the last 3 years. I have no idea what's under there, and I'm finally willing to admit I'm pretty damn excited to see it.   

I'm looking forward to having "the spread" (the extra bulk on my hips/ass that spreads out when I sit down) tightened up a bit. (pulling up my lower core area will also pull up my upper thighs/hips/ass) I may legitimately fit in my plane seat, and not have the the spread spill under the arm rests next to me! For a girl who is really happy to finally fit in a plane seat again, this is just the icing on the cake! 

The only drawback is that I will legitimately no longer have an ass. I didn't realized that until we were doing "FUPA's Last Photo Shoot" and I made that video. When I pulled up on the top of my rear, that baby was GONE! Hopefully Dr Camp can build me a little something...we all know I have the extra material... but I've also warned Scott that my return to the gym will have to be known as "Operation: Build a Booty". 

We are down to our last 9 days together. It has been nice having this time to actually observe the changes to my body more closely than I have since my weight loss surgery...and it will be weird as shit for a while when it's gone...but I adjusted to this body pretty quickly. I'm confident I'll be just fine in my new FUPA-less existence. 

Have you guessed the weight of the FUPA yet? Here is a link: FUPA Weight Guessing Game

New Year, New Natalie?

It is absolutely ridiculous that another entire year has passed! I remember when I was young, and all of the "old people" (anyone over 30) would tell me how fast time goes the older you get. I assure you, I believed that to be complete bullshit...but here I am - constantly in awe of how quickly our time seems to evaporate.

I went in to 2018 a little nervous. The newness had worn off after my surgery. I figured I had definitely lost the weight I was going to lose - - I was weighing in at 209# on January 1st - - I had blown any and every goal I had for weight loss out of the water! Now I'd have to be accountable. I'd have to stay on task. 

It was my standard M.O. to stick with a plan for a while (granted - I'd already stuck with this much longer than most) and then just completely jump ship. Abandon all of the behaviors that had created any amount of success, and go back to my old, destructive ways. 

It was scary. I was concerned that I'd need that "newness" to keep my brain engaged. I was worried that without the shiny new accomplishments rolling in one after the other, I'd lose interest like every other time in my past. I mean, really - - when was the last time I finished something? When was the last time I didn't just give up when things got a little hard? 

But then something happened. My brain finally clicked on, and realized that this whole process has been hard! 

• Admitting I needed to do something as drastic and permanent as surgery - hard. 
• Going to my bariatric appointments, both physically & mentally - hard
• Starting to work with Scott when I weighed 495# - HARD
• Being on a liquid diet for 21 days before my surgery - HARD
• Sticking with all of the nutrition and movement guidelines right after surgery - hard
• Continuing to go workout and push myself - hard
• Sticking with my eating plan, and continuing to follow the 30 minute rule - hard

I've proven I can do hard shit! And I can stick with it. Maybe I can trust myself enough...believe in myself enough...to actually accept this as my new normal. I am now a person who moves her ass, and eats what she's supposed to most of the time. I'm a person who is willing to be honest, and vulnerable, and really excited about things most people don't understand. 

I'm healthy. I'm happy. And I'm grateful. 

I'm heading into 2019 optimistic - which has been a really frightening thing for me in the past. I have this whole "it's easier to be hurt/disappointed when you were hopeful" attitude. I'm not sure when I turned into such a pansy - and now that I'm actually seeing it - I'm NOT a fan. That shit has to go. So here are a couple of things that I'm going to work on in this new year:

1. New Bod - with a new bod comes responsibility. I will have an increased obligation to myself. To get myself as ready as I can for successful surgeries and recoveries. To get back to working out as soon as safely able, and stick with it. To continue to stick to my diet. 
• FUPA removal is 1/10/19
• boobs & arms shortly after - - hopefully
2. Stop Saying "I'm Sorry" all the damn time - - not that I will never show remorse. Not that I will never owe anyone an apology. But what I'm going to try to curb is the automatic reaction within me to apologize if someone isn't 100% on board with my thoughts, statements or actions. The words "I'm sorry" come shooting out way to easy, and have lost all weight. They are just entirely too overused...I hear it all the time from others as well. Don't be sorry for everything you say, feel or do. This world needs to toughen up a little bit. There's a difference between empathy & remorse. Let's all try to be a little more empathetic...that's way more constructive as far as I'm concerned. And I'm NOT sorry to say it 😉
3. Try to turn this new life into...something - - I have no idea what that looks like, or what opportunities there are - - but I trust myself enough in this process to allow myself to try and help others. I believe I have something to offer people who are going through situations similar to mine. I've been contacted by a number of people that are considering bariatric surgery, or are just trying to live a more healthy life - - and I love it. I know it was great for me to have people to talk to that had gone through the process - - and I'd like to be that for other people. So stay tuned...or send suggestions/ideas if you have any

I know I'm a couple of days early - but here's to an ass-kicking 2019! What are your goals for yourself in the new year? 

#WhatNatalieEats

Food. My narcotic of choice. For years, it basically ruled my existence. It was quite nearly my demise.

BS (before surgery) Diet: Diet Coke, Pizza, Diet Mt Dew, Burgers, Fries, Fried Chicken Sandwiches, more Diet Coke, Copious amounts of alcohol, more pizza, many fried things…with a just a dash of water thrown in so my organs didn’t completely shut down. Needless to say, the drive-thrus got a work out!!!

Sure…I’d pull it together for short periods of time. Every time I’d start a new program, I’d be militant in my execution. ON POINT! I’d have a few weeks. A couple of months, maybe. It was the same with all of them: Weight Watchers, Slimgenics, Fat Camp, LA Weight Loss….I was a star…until I wasn’t. Then I’d quickly pack back on any weight I had lost + a whole lot more. The cycle was constant.

Then at the end of March 2016 there was the liquid diet. Twenty-one of the worst days of my life. Looking at my life now it is very easy to throw it in the “totally worth it” column - - but holy shit was that hard! For 21 days the closest thing to food I got to consume was sugar-free jell-o or popsicles. Otherwise everything was literally liquid. It was the absolute fucking worst. I had nightmares that I cheated…one time I was guzzling Diet Coke like it was going out of style…another time I was hoovering a caramel Twix… I’d wake up in a panic, until I realized that I had literally given away ALL of my food, and there was nothing left in my house to cheat with…I was safe.

In the last 2.5 years we’ve been working on our relationship, food & I. It’s had it’s rough moments – but overall I’d say we’ve come out of this whole thing stronger J I don’t really care for cooking – so I am frequently grateful that I can literally eat the same things, day after day, without getting sick of them. I still have the things I want to have, when I want to have them (assuming they’re available to me) – I just have them in much smaller quantities. I have lost the will to leave my house to grab something if I am having a craving – so have found my need for it will likely pass by the time I have access to it.

I do feel like my taste buds have changed since my surgery. I still love Cheetos - not those puffy ones – but the crunchy. Like, really love. But I have some new/odd things I crave as well:

• Harvest Cheddar Sun Chips
• Combos! Seriously. The buffalo/pretzel & 7 layer dip ones...YUMMO!
• Hotdogs! I spend a lot of time at softball fields in the summer, and can't seem to get enough. Gross - but so good. 
• Cucumbers - this has been the last few months - but put them with buffalo chicken dip, or HyVee ranch dip...swoon...
• Caesar Salad Kits - - thankfully this one was mostly last summer, or I could have died!

I still love pizza – and that remains the one food I limit how frequently I eat it. I try to keep it to at least 2 weeks in between. A few times it’s been less. A lot of the time it has been more. 

As cliche and annoying as it sounds - I do genuinely see food more as a means to an end now, than the thing that brings me peace and comfort. Due to the schedule (waiting 30 minutes on each side of eating to drink) I have removed the opportunity for mindless snacking. In order to stick to my schedule, and get enough food in, and drink enough, I have to stay on task. No taking my time, eating more than I am supposed to at any sitting - because I can literally only eat so much at one time. I do see people that have had my surgery who spend 2 hours eating a meal...I have no idea how they make that work. I get in, eat, and get out - so I can wait my 30 minutes and drink again. My life is a series of schedules and rules - but they're working - so I try my best to roll with it. 

My new life wants me to do High Protein, High Fat, Low Carb. Daily goal is 80 grams of protein. It seems like I eat the same stuff every day. Here are some of the regulars:

** please do not take my diet as any sort of nutritional guideline! I eat very differently than the average human should - - but it works for me. Consult a professional with questions/ideas/guidance **

·         Protein Shakes: it is still my least favorite. Likely because my brain knows I HAVE to have it, and I don’t like being bossed around.

·         Greek Yogurt with granola

·         Turkey Chili

·         Cured meats/Jerky

·         Cheese, cheese, cheese

·         Nuts

·         Bacon

·         Eggs with cheese, EBtB seasoning & mayo – sounds gross, but trust me

·         Balanced Breaks – before the gym

The biggest adjustment I have made, is packing my food. Each day I pack snacks and lunch. Every weekend I go to tournaments I have a cooler packed with snacks and beverages. I CAN eat whatever I want, but I CHOOSE to stay on plan the majority of the time. Yes, I have hotdogs and cheetos - - but I eat my yogurt and nuts the rest of the time. Sometimes the planning gets a bit annoying - but it has just become my life now...and my body thanks me for it. 

Happy New Year!

2017 has definitely left an impression. Looking back it seems like it lasted about 15 minutes...but when I look at all of the things I've done this year...things it simply would not have been possible for me to do before...it's more than slightly mind-boggling.

For those of you that follow along on Facebook or Instagram - you likely already know most of this, so hopefully you don't find my recap too boring...but so many people type up their holiday letters recapping their year of adventure and accomplishment - - and for the first time in forever, I feel like I have some pretty cool shit to share!

The word I would use for 2017 would be "amazing". I started the year feeling amazing - - I was at about 280pounds. I had lost over 215 pounds. I had already flown past where I was hoping I'd get after surgery. I was working out. I was eating pretty well. I was able to fit into actual pants again...I could wear jeans. I was feeling fantastic. I was thinking that if I could just maintain that loss - - if I could somehow keep myself on track, and not have a huge backslide, I'd have it made. I was no longer limited by my size. Don't get me wrong - I was still a sizable lady - - but compared to where I had started....I was content as hell!! But I would learn that I didn't need to be content with where I was at...because things were just going to keep moving!

In March I did something I hadn't done in years...which kind of seemed like a theme for this year... I loaded my ass onto a plane, somewhat fitting in one seat! My sister & bro-in-law used their miles to allow Wendy & I to go Mexico to visit our aunt an uncle for a few days. I realized a few things while on this trip:

• I truly am solar powered - - winter is horrible
• It is so much less anxiety-producing to fly on a plane when you're able to somewhat fit through the aisle, and don't barely fit through sideways
• My face sunscreen had obviously expired, because I fried the shit out of myself from the neck up

 The end of winter/early spring also gave me the courage to do something else I'd been hesitant to do. Reconnect with friends from years ago. I was lucky enough to get back together with some of my absolute favorite ladies from my Moorhead State days...it's amazing how we were able to just pick up where we left off - - didn't miss a beat! I hadn't seen them in 20 years - most recently because I was just too damn embarrassed about how I'd completely let myself go, and gained approximately 1 million pounds.
In April I went to Seattle with a group of fantastic friends that I've had since 7th grade. Seriously, so much fun! We walked, and walked, and walked. Something there is not one chance I would have been able to do before. And I only got "hangry" once. Live and learn - always carry snacks! =)

 This year I attended a bunch of concerts and sporting events. I know most of you totally take for granted the fact that your ass is just going to fit into whatever seating is offered/available - - but let me assure you, when you've been on the other side of that - - having anxiety over seating/walking/standing for years, it is so fucking fantastic when you realize you can now fit. In stadium seating, in tiny folding chairs all strapped together. You can go up or down the number of steps required to get to and from your seat. You're not worried about how far you might have to walk to get to your final destination. You don't panic if you might have to stand for a bit (although you will forever prefer sitting on your ass if given the option). You finally get to remove "no" from your list of auto-responses, and actually getting to formulate your answer based on your genuine interest in whatever the event is you have the option to attend. It's magical!

One of my biggest reasons I decided to have this surgery - - other than the sheer exhaustion of being a 500# person - - was my family. I knew they were concerned about me - - many awkward conversations later, and I finally heard them. But anyway - - they were a huge factor. I was so tired of missing shit! So I have now gotten to attend more softball games, basketball games, t-ball/coach pitch (which lets face it - - is like watching a few adults try to herd cats) in the last couple of years than the 10+ years before that combined. It is honestly so amazing to get to watch these kids accomplish such amazing things - - and I'm finally there for it!! I'm there for it all!! I just don't know how to describe it other than I am just so grateful! I love these 3 kids so much - - and being able to be present for them is just indescribable. And I feel like I have like 30 nieces and nephews now - because I appreciate their friends and teammates - and want nothing but fantastic things for all of them!

 In September I crossed a major experience off my bucket list. We went skydiving!!! I had wanted to do this for years. YEARS!!! And my dad & sisters did it with me. And my poor mom came along and took pictures, and watched her entire family load onto a plane, just to jump out of it! And as a huge added bonus, one of my best friends from Jr High/High School brought her nephew on the same day, at the same time! All 6 of us got to go on the same plane. All of us got to experience this amazing thing together. I know there were a couple in my family that weren't exactly excited about it - - but once we all made it safely to the ground - - I came in on my ass, which seems appropriate - - I think they were glad they joined. It was, you guessed it...amazing. And finally being to the point where I could do it was....just...wow.

And, as if this year wasn't rad enough - I went to Utah in November. My youngest sister/activity coach went to visit my bonus sister and her love. I don't even know how to describe this experience. It was just the greatest. Our hosts were fantastic, and took such good care of us. And were so patient with me, and my cardio limitations/crazy brain. Everywhere I looked, it was just beautiful. I saw some of the most amazing shit. And it was just miles and miles and miles of untouched/unfuckedwith beauty. As a girl from Minnesota, I had no damn idea just how many mountains were out west! This was such an eye-opening experience. And I feel like it demonstrated, in the most gorgeous way possible, just how far I have come since I made the decision to have this surgery. I was just so damn thankful for being able to experience it.

So....those are the big things. Those were the major milestones. But what it's not telling are the millions of tiny little things that made this year uniquely awesome. I weigh in tomorrow - on the 1st - so we'll see if the sugary treats of the holiday season have caught up with me - - but as of today I've lost another 73# this year. I'm down a total of 288#. I've gone from a mens size 5X tshirt to a mens L. I now feel like a bit of a slug if I don't move my ass a bit during the day. I'm going to keep track of the miles I put on in 2018 - - I think that will be a really interesting number...especially considering my mileage for 2015 was probably about 30 miles...total. Seriously.

See....amazing. Doing amazing things, surrounded by amazing, supportive people. I am so damn lucky. I appreciate all of you.

I am not naive enough to think that 2018 won't have it's challenges. Going into the maintenance phase....trying to stay motivated when the pounds aren't dropping off...will be a major focus for me. Sticking to the things that got me to this point - - working out, lifting weights, watching what I shove into my face, moving my ass. And I will likely start researching some skin removal options...but that honestly scares the shit out of me....so we'll see. But even with these things staring me in the face, I am so excited to see what this new year brings. What experiences I'll have that just a couple of years ago seemed impossible.....

a year in the LIFE

A year. 365 days. 52 weeks. 12 months. That is the amount of time that has passed since that one day when my best decision became my new reality. As with each milestone that comes and passes, this one also feels a bit surreal - - like time went by entirely too quickly, but this just also seems like how things have always been....

 But, of course, this isn't how things have always been.... The way things had been for entirely too long went something like this: eat like crap, become less mobile, try to eat better, exercise a little bit, lose a few pounds, fall completely off the wagon, stop exercising, gain back every pound I'd lost and then some... repeat... repeat.... and so on. 

That was until one day when that girl on the left looked at her kitchen, which was about 20 feet from where she sat on the couch and seriously wondered if it was worth having to get up and go all the way out there to get something to drink. Seriously. I had to contemplate whether it was worth it to have to get up (no easy task) and walk the 20 feet to my kitchen to get a drink. Because at that time movement of any sort caused pain, or discomfort, or both. That was it. That was the final straw. I needed help. It was time to seriously consider surgery. I sent a text to my youngest sister about it before I changed my mind. 

I talked to a couple of people who had gone the surgery route, or knew someone who had. I found 2 fairly close ties that went through the same hospital and the same program. That was about the extend of my research. I did their online pre-qualification stuff. Received the packet and went to work on that - mailing it in as quickly as I could before I lost my nerve. My insurance wouldn't cover it - so I tried the appeals process, which was just a complete waste of time. I was lucky. I had the option to borrow the money. I will be paying for this hammock for the remainder of my days - - but at least now I will hopefully live enough days to get it paid off. And just like that, my first appointment were set. September 9, 2015. I met with a lovely nurse, a doctor and the nutritionist. I used valet at the hospital, because I wanted to walk as little as possible. I weighed 495 pounds. That number was humiliating. How I let myself get as far gone as I did is beyond me. Really. 

I had appointments with the physical therapy department and the psychologist. For the physical therapy appointment I had to walk down to the other end of the hospital. I literally had to sit down and take breaks. It was just too far for me to walk in one stretch. 

I had to do a sleep study, and found I had absolutely horrible sleep apnea. I met repeatedly with each department until they all finally gave me their approval to have this surgery done. I had my final appointments what ended up being about 6 weeks prior to my surgery. I finally met my surgeon - Dr. Thomas Jones. He said he's assembled the exact team he wanted to perform my surgery, and my date would be Monday, April 18th. You see - even though I was going to weight loss surgery, I was still heavier than most that have this procedure done. I was advised at an early appointment that they wanted me to lose 50-70 pounds prior to my surgery, to make it less dangerous. I also had to sign forms that said I understood that if something did go wrong during surgery, I was still too heavy for the machines that would help them figure out what was wrong - - so they'd basically just have to open me back up, and go exploring. So basically I was too fat for weight loss surgery. 

what I now lack in boob I make up for in swinging arm fat

It was right around Thanksgiving of 2015 that I met with, and started working with Scott. The 2nd best decision I've made in quite some time. I cannot express enough my gratitude to him. Sure - I would have lost weight with just the surgery....but for me the goal was to always get back to healthy. I would not be anywhere near where I am right now without him helping me get to that goal. I still have SOOOO far to go - - but I'm definitely headed in the right direction. And my FUPA isn't hanging to my knees - and I believe he is solely responsible for that. 

It's been a year. Someone sent me something soon after my surgery written by another person who had a similar surgery that basically said you forget about all the bad things associated with the surgery, because the good things are so good. I have searched for that recently - but can't seem to find it anywhere. But it's true. Those bad spots: the liquid diet, the few months after surgery where everything has to be mush, the fatigue, etc - - all of it pale so much when compared to the overwhelming positives. I have my life back. I know that sounds so cliche - but it is the truth! I was damn near immobile - and just last weekend I put on about 17 miles walking around, exploring a new city with my friends. I'm realizing how low I had allowed myself to get, and I am definitely feeling like I'm on the upswing...and it is nothing short of absolutely fantastic!

10 Months Sure Can Fly

I feel like I blinked, and it's 10 months later. No - I haven't completely forgotten about the first few months after surgery when I was losing all patience with my diet, and this whole new life in general - - but that does seem like a distant memory at this point. It is insane to me how much my life has changed - but also how much this just seems like my normal at this point. And day to day, it is my normal - - but then I sometimes think back and realize just how far I've come.

After my personal training consult (one of the many departments you meet with prior to approval for surgery) I was told I needed to walk for 5 minutes at a time, 4 times a day. I would literally walk in circles around my apartment, and you would not believe how difficult it was to keep moving for 5 minutes! I'd have to sit down and take a breather after each round. These days I don't experience anything near that. Yes - I am still in pretty crappy shape - - lots of room for improvement there - but 5 minutes is nothing. Just one of the many things I don't even think about anymore, until all of the sudden I'll stop and think about just how immobile I was....

As with any major surgery, and subsequent life change, there are some challenges....

• My face continues to be broken out most of the time. I guess this is normal - but I swear my skin is worse at 41 than it was when I went through puberty! I'm really trying to focus on making sure I'm getting enough water in my system, and I've started putting coconut oil on my skin a few times a week. Maybe I just hit a good stretch - but it seems to be helping!!
• I'm still not loving drinking my protein shakes. I need to have one a day in order to get me to my protein goal, because I just can't eat enough to get there without it. I have flavored (chocolate, banana & caramel) premade shakes as well as protein powder I could mix with milk or water. They no longer make me nauseous - but I think I'm still holding a grudge from when they did right after my surgery. That, and it's the one thing I have to have per day - - so of course that annoys me.
• Getting enough liquids proves to be a challenge for me. Because I can no longer "chug" when I drink - I can take a couple of swallows at a time, but that's it - I basically have to drink ALL DAY LONG!! (trying to drink too fast gives me a pain right under my sternum - like the water gets stuck there, trying to get through my hammock. So I have to drink more slowly than I normally did before surgery) That's when I'm not waiting my 30 minutes on either side of eating.... I get distracted - so getting enough to drink can prove to be a bit challenging. 

But all of those are admittedly minor. The list of positives is much more meaty - -

• Things that are easier now than they were 10 months ago: EVERYTHING!!!! Walking. Getting up. Sitting down. Like I willing just moved every piece of furniture and cleaned along the edges in my apartment - vacuumed and wiped down base boards (my mom would be so proud)!! I haven't done that...ever. I fold my laundry and put it away - because I'm able to wear more than the 4 things that fit. After running errands, I put things away - they don't just lay in a heap for days until I can gradually motivate to put them away. These are little things that everyone else on the planet just does - but they are things I never really did before. I'm taking some pride in my existence again.
• Job Confidence - I've worked 2nd shift for the last 3+ years. It worked really well for me when all I did was go to work, sit on my couch and sleep. It didn't matter if I was working on a Tuesday or a Saturday - - I wasn't going to do shit with my time anyway! But now that I want to participate in my life, it was starting to cause some fairly major scheduling issues. I applied for a job on the day shift - and will be moving as soon as my replacement is hired and trained (hopefully by the end of March). This is something I just wouldn't have done before for a variety of what are now ridiculous reason - - and I'm so excited.
• I have muscles. It is nearly impossible to see them at this point, because they're being safely stored under a whole lot of wobbly flesh - - but they're there. I can feel them sometimes! I think I had to have a certain amount of muscle deep down before - - it takes some strength to move 500 pounds around. But now I have more - and there are brief moments where I feel like a little bit of a bad ass!
• Dating....I'm not 100% sure this belongs in the positive column...it has been an absolute exercise in absurdity so far - but I'm counting the fact that I'm open to trying to date as a pretty significant win. I'm willing to put myself out there a bit. Although I'm still not sure I was designed for this - - I'm more than a little set in my ways, like my alone time, have zero tolerance for bullshit, etc - - we'll see how it goes. 
• I have a couple of vacations planned. The first - my sister Wendy is taking me to Mexico (where our Aunt Rhonda & Uncle Candy are willing to let us crash at their place) for a few days in March. Here's how things have changed - - 1. I am not even completely freaking out about getting on a plane (more specifically - my ass fitting in the plane seat). I cannot remember the last time that was the case. I banned myself from flying in 2010 until I could fit - and before that every flight was an anxiety-inducing disaster. Now - I suspect I'll fit - and it's going to be fucking awesome. 2. Vacation to me no longer means drinking and eating to excess - - the thing I'm the most excited about is going to walk in the green and the sun and the warmth. (this was all before it was 60 degrees in MN in February - - but I'm still pretty damn excited). Warning - I will likely be blowing up my social media pages because 1 - this will provide some pretty epic NSV's and 2 - my sister Wendy and I attract mayhem wherever we go together - so 12 hour travel days will likely create some memories worth sharing and documenting. 

So there you have it - - my 10 month "state of the hammock"... Things continue to go so much better than I ever thought they would. And I am constantly overwhelmed, and humbled and just so incredibly grateful for the people who are just nothing but supportive. My sisters and parents have mentioned how people they know are hanging out with me through this insane experience, and will talk to them about it. It's truly amazing to me, and I continue to be blown away by all of you. Seriously - you guys help me so much. I consistently baffled by what I've done to deserve you all, and the kindness you show me day in and day out. I love you all.

When Not Normal Becomes Normal

It seems as though my 7 and 8 month surgiversaries snuck right by me! Maybe it's because some of those milestones that seemed so big soon after surgery are seeming less and less noteworthy, and less and less important. Maybe it's because this "new" life is truly starting to feel like....life. Not new. Not old. But definitely better. Not to fret - - I will still be celebrating...it just may not always be monthly...because the day my life so drastically improved for the better is most assuredly something to be celebrated.

So as I approach my 9 month surgiversary, I've taken a little time to reflect. I interact with people who have had the surgery more recently than I have. I have a friend of mine from college who will be having her first appointment soon. When I chat or text with them, it takes me back to when I was at the stage they're at. All of the emotions you feel before your first meeting - - nerves, excitement...and also questioning if this is the right decision. Do I really need to have surgery? (the answer to that one for me was an absofuckinglutely) But you still go through all of that. Then those first few months after surgery can be so frustrating. The diet is limited. You might not be losing as fast as you wanted to, or as fast as others have - and you have a hard time not comparing your experience to theirs - - but everyone's experience is so different!

But the truth I am reminded of every time I start looking back is that this was the best decision I have made, and could have made, for myself. It's not always easy. There are definite challenges. I have to be conscious of the decisions I make regarding food all the time. I keep waiting for the honeymoon phase to end, and for it to be come increasingly difficult to make good decisions - because let's be honest - one doesn't get to almost 500 pounds if they don't have some pretty significant issues with food. But so far, so good. I still follow my rules. I don't drink within 30 minutes of eating (I set alarms, which has earned me a fair amount of mocking from my coworkers). I try to stay away from carbs for the most part, but don't beat myself up when I have them occasionally. I treat myself to the small bags of Cheetos sometimes. I don't drink carbonation, don't use a straw, don't chew gum and haven't had any alcohol in....forever. And I don't miss it - - except for diet coke, but oh well.

I've also spent some time looking to the future - which is new for me. Willing to try new things. Interested in trying new things. There are still many instances where my brain instantly reacts as BS (before surgery) Natalie would have - - instantly thinking "no" or "I can't do that"...but they're becoming less and less. I'm not nearly as content as I once was to just sit in my chair watching TV all day. I want to be out - - even though it's winter - doing things. Errands no longer terrify me. I'm no longer concerned about when I run my errands to insure I'm able to get the closest spot possible, so I don't have to walk any further than absolutely necessary. My only deterrent now is the weather (winter is not even remotely close to my favorite), but at least I can now fit into gear to allow me to combat it a bit.

Everything is easier. That is the biggest difference. EVERYTHING is easier. Getting up, sitting down, bending down, reaching up. Movement is easier. Everything doesn't constantly hurt! My left knee is still being a bit of a bitch - - but Scott has me doing some new exercises that will hopefully help. If not - off to the doctor I will go to have it looked at.

I'm trying to embrace cooking....or as I still like to refer to it: food prep. I've been scouring Pinterest. I've got some ideas sent to me by people on my page. I can't make any promises - but I'm going to try. That which does not kill you... =) It has it's benefits and challenges. One benefit is that when I do make something, I have about 342 meals because I eat such small portions. One challenge is that I have 342 portions - - so I end up eating it FOREVER! My freezer is currently fully stocked! One of my favorite meals continues to be a Greek yogurt, nuts and a string cheese. I was a little over eggs - - but that seems to be passing, gratefully. Still working on high protein, high fat, low carb. It's not as much of a challenge as I thought it would be. I allow myself pizza once every 2 weeks - - it's my gateway drug, so I'm a little more strict than usual with it.

My hair is falling out - which his proving to be the only real issue I deal with. Most people have said theirs stops around 6 months. Most people also have much less to lose than I do/did - but hopefully it's getting ready to wind down here before too long. I picked up some Biotin yesterday - so we'll see if that helps. But honestly - if that's the biggest issue I'm dealing with, I'm pretty luck.

I overextended myself a bit with work during the last month of the year, and was do damn exhausted I could barely function! I ended up skipping workouts, which made me feel guilty and stressed. It was a good reminder to me to not go back to BS Natalie - - where I didn't worry about taking care of myself, or make time to take care of myself. I need to allow myself time to take care of me. I need to make time to take care of me. I'll do better. I was back seeing Scott last week - and all though all the things kind of ached a bit, it felt so good to get back into that routine!! I have a body that will move now - - I need to keep it moving!

So basically, things are kind of kicking ass for me right now - and I'm trying to enjoy every minute of it! I hope your 2017 is off to an excellent start. I can't wait to see all of the amazing shit it will bring our way!!

Ode to my Trainer

One of the primary reasons I finally broke down, admitted I needed help and had this surgery was that I wanted to be healthy. I wanted to be mobile. No longer living in fear of having to walk somewhere, or stand for a while. I wanted to be able to play with my nieces and nephews. Go for walks. Live a "normal" life...not the size-edited version of a life I'd been living for so long.

Part of my success, I knew, would be finding a personal trainer. I've worked with a couple of them in the past, and the truth of the matter is - I need one. I am not one to stretch out of my comfort zone. I don't try things to see if I can do them. I don't push myself.

Today Facebook let me know it was my 1-year anniversary of friendship with Scott Sutherlin.

Around Thanksgiving last year, I started working with my trainer Scott. My sister's sister-in-law went to his bootcamp classes, and she had really good things to say about him. He was right in my town, so that was convenient. At our first meeting, I just knew we'd work. He's worked with overweight people - and by overweight I mean well over 20 pounds to lose - and has not only helped them shed the weight, but keep it off. Weight-loss surgery patients were nothing new to him. He didn't see like one to take any shit, which I can appreciate. I still remember that first meeting like it was yesterday - - He made me stand during the entire thing. It was likely less than 30 minutes - but I was starting to sweat, and my knees hurt - - typical things for me.

I met with him a few times a week. It started so slowly, and so simply - which is exactly what 495# Natalie needed. He had me walk - at whatever pace I could - for 15 minutes. Small circles around the gym. I still remember how fucking hard it was to walk for 15 minutes!!! I was so grateful to be able to sit down when I finished. He worked in a bit of weight-training - - but the goal was movement. I hadn't been doing anything for so long, that that alone felt like something major.

As I dropped a few pounds prior to my pre-surgery liquid diet, we worked up to some tougher things - flipping tires, more weights - but for the most part it was walking. He'd keep me entertained with his stories while I walked in circles. The boredom he must have experienced watching me walk in circles for what ended up being close to 30 minutes - - I cannot imagine. But he did it, because at the time that is what I needed.

I was gone for about 2 months between the liquid diet (no energy at all), my surgery and recovery. When I came back we eased into it. He knew enough to start slow - see what my body was able to do, and where it's limits were. There have been a few days where I was just run down - where I hadn't eaten enough in the days before - and he knew I needed rest, and allowed me to do that. I cannot speak enough to the importance of working with someone who has the knowledge, and experience, to continually put your best-interests first.

So we got back to our 3 sessions a week. Easing in at first - I still had fairly new incisions on my stomach, and I'd still get woozy/light-headed fairly often because I wasn't eating much at the time - and was ingesting no carbs. Scott was patient, but firm. He wasn't going to let me off easy - but he also wasn't going to push me into something that would cause me harm.

I can't remember when the switch was exactly - but suddenly he knew I was ready. I was able to do more than we'd been doing. Everything was kicked up a notch. It was time to test out this new bod, and see what it could do. I had slightly move mobility than I'd had before, and he was going to use it. There are multiple times per session where doubt creeps in. He asks me to do something, and I start mentally calculating the levels to which I will fail. But you know what -- I don't fail. He hasn't asked me to do one thing that I physically can't do. Mentally - it might take me a minute to get my body to cooperate. But he keeps saying he'll never ask me to do anything I can't do - - and he's right. Hopefully one of these days I'll start to believe him right away.

no good comes from the agility ladder

And here's the truth - - I do not like our sessions. I wish I could tell you I love it, and every second of our time together is magical - but I can't. I have to keep telling myself "it's only an hour. It's only an hour. It's only an hour" my entire way to the gym. It's fucking hard. But when it's done, I feel pretty damn fantastic! I'm cranky, and I'm surly  and I'm bitchy - and yet he tolerates me. He doesn't lose his patience. He doesn't scream. He basically just tells me to STFU and do it. And then I do. And then I'm amazed by what I can do. Today he hauled out the agility ladder. My eyes immediately started to roll, and I asked him if he was aware that "agility" and my body were mutually exclusive. He was not. And he made me do it anyway. And I was awful sometimes, and sometimes I was ok. But I could do it. (I'm still somewhat in awe)

From the outside, we may appear to have the most dysfunctional relationship - he is constantly making me do things I don't want to do, and I'm forever being mean to him. But if you look closer - you see he's the best kind of friend - - he knows what I'm capable of, and continually pushes me.

I know without him, I wouldn't be where I am today. Sure - I would have lost weight...I have a hammock, after all. But I wouldn't have lost as much as I have - and my body wouldn't have transformed as much as it has, if it wasn't for Scott. I am so grateful to be able to work with him. I am so grateful he takes the time to work with me, until I'm ready to join the group classes. I am so grateful that he shows me on a daily basis that I am able to do things I'm certain I cannot. I'm grateful that he pushes me, even when I swear at him and give him one of my less-than-loving looks. I am grateful.

Happy 1 year friend-iversary Scott. I appreciate you so much, even when all I do is act the opposite. Here's to many more...you poor guy! =) You might never get rid of me....

Scott & I, post-workout in his torture chamber

Non-Scale Victories

I've been told repeatedly that it takes 21 days to establish a habit. As per usual for me, I tend to take a little longer - - like 6 months, apparently - for things to start feeling normal. It has finally gotten to the point where I feel like I have myself into a bit of a routine...for the most part, anyway. I have moments...or weeks...like this one where I just didn't feel like doing the things I normally do - but for the most part I have settled in a bit.

I'm trying to be responsible and food prep. I've resigned myself to moving more, and going to the gym when I have appointments set. I'm embracing and getting used to this new life of mine. Or at least I'm trying to. I'm going to lay some honesty on you real quick - - there are stretches of days where I swear it seems like one long list of shit I don't want to do: food prep, go to the gym, go to work, laundry, dishes, etc. Not that I'm miserable. Not that I find no joy in my life. But there are periods where there isn't really anything I'm looking forward to, and all of the things I'm marking off the list are out of obligation. That tends to be fairly short-lived...but it is the truth.

But then I hear Scott - sometimes in my head, sometimes at our sessions - reminding me to be grateful for, and appreciate the little things. Like the day I was bending over to pick up the bar and noticed the dry skin on my shins. He was kind enough to point out to me that it likely wasn't that long ago I couldn't really get a good look at my shins. Enjoy the little things.

And there have been quite a few lately - - I shared the fact that I can finally tie my shoes while standing up, instead of requiring some fairly significant calisthenics (which I just had to look up how to spell, because I was sure there was another T in there...but anyway...) while sitting on the side of my bed. I can finally use any stall in a public restroom without having to get in, straddle the toilet to get the door closed - then basically touch all the sides while I'm in there, and straddle the toilet to get the door back open. I'm not going to lie - it feels pretty damn amazing!

Yesterday, I stopped at Wal-Mart (which I usually try to avoid like the plague - but they do have plus-size long sleeved lady tees that are cheap - -and I'm all about that right now). One of the issues I have been having heading into winter is - how much do I spend on a winter coat that will (hopefully) only fit me for one year. I just honestly cannot want to spend money on clothes right now! So I walked into the clothing department, and they had winter coats for $20. TWENTY BUCKS!!! Now - as a lovely, large lady, I have not been able to just walk into Target or Wal-Mart and buy coats - - even plus-size coats - off the rack. I've had to order them, and they never fit right - so it has been a long time since I've had a winter coat that I actually wore, that actually fit. So I grabbed the largest size they had on the rack - a size 3X (22/24) and it fits!!! Like I can zip it up and everything! I'm still a big girl - but getting to be a bit more manageable! I was seriously on cloud 9 for like 2 hours!

For perspective - I started at size....a trillion? Honestly - I'm not sure. I would wear 4X maxi skirts made of jersey material with lots of give - - and I used all of it. Shirts, etc I was into 5X or 4X mens. I couldn't even get my size 32 jeans up - and I can now not really keep them up. The green and blue pants I am currently wearing are size 28 Boyfriend cut from Lane Bryant. I can actually dry them IN the dryer (no more hanging everything to dry for me) and they still have some room in them. So the fact that this 22/24 coat fits is...awesome.

But here's the big thing...I never really considered myself an unhappy person. I didn't consider myself someone who lacked self-confidence. What I have come to learn is that I am not so great at being self-aware. Or my internal gauge that advises me on how things are going is just that good at protecting me. Because what I'm experiencing now is quite different. I feel like it's easier to smile. It's easier to make eye contact. It's easier to be kind.  It's easier to try and be helpful. I'm sure there was something within me that had me keeping my guard up - - just incase that one was one of the days someone decided to give me the looks, or comments, about my size. Whatever was in charge of my self-preservation was not to be messed with! Now - this is not to say that I don't still have plenty of the sarcastic a-hole that everyone has grown to love, within me. =) But I find that I make eye contact and say hello to strangers more than I used to. I acknowledge passers-by, even on my walks where I'm sweaty and feel like I'm going to die - - I stick look them in the eye and smile. I'm pretty sure this is by far my favorite NSV (non-scale victory) to date. There is just so much to be said for feeling happy, healthy (or at least getting there), confident...comfortable...in your own skin! Am I perfect? So far from it. But I feel like I'm getting back to the out-going person I used to be before life and weight beat the hell out of me, and it feels fucking fantastic!