My Biggest Hurdle: My Own Brain

Today's session with Scott was bad. Really bad. Not due to anything he said, did or asked of me. It was 100% on me.

It's been a long week. Work stuff has just completely worn me out. I'm trying to eat better, but I know I probably didn't get enough to eat yesterday (my pre-prepped meals ran out on Wednesday....I'm still trying to get myself organized in that department) - which Scott has repeatedly warned me is a problem. I walked into the gym feeling drained - physically and even more so emotionally. It was a recipe for disaster. And it was a disaster.

I did my walk while we chatted. Don't get me wrong - I still don't love my walks - but they've become much more tolerable. But today I just kept looking at my Fitbit praying for it to be over. While I was finishing up, Scott starting putting together the equipment for the next phase of my workout. "Shit. Shit. SHIT." was all that was going through my head as I realized it was going to be a lower body day. Lower body days are the worst...I have to haul all of this bulk along with me for all of the exercises. I'm hopeful one day that will be much easier than it is now - but for the time being, it is awful. A very necessary evil, I know....

So damn true.....

So I made up my mind before I even started that it was going to suck. Then Scott told me the duration I needed to do each station. That was it. My brain had already decided I couldn't do it. Well - truthfully, my fear decided I couldn't do it, and quickly got my brain onboard. And how do I react to fear, feeling uncomfortable and insecure? That's right - by being a raging bitch. I instantly turned into a petulant child. I was so sure I couldn't do it before I started that I didn't even give myself a chance to try.

Instead of just doing the best that I could - and listening to Scott's direction - I pouted, gave half-assed effort and smarted off to him. I behaved horribly. To his credit, he didn't tell me to get the hell out of the gym and never come back. I suspect I may have done that if I had been in his shoes.

I went to Scott because I need someone to push me. I trust him. I know he knows what he's doing. I obviously do not, or I wouldn't be in my current situation - - so where does my brain get off thinking it knows best? I made him aware of what my goals were, and asked him to help me. I told him I'd do what he asked me to do. He is more than living up to his end of the deal. I am the one who is not.

This is about enough of that shit. I am looking forward to so many positive changes, I should probably start with my attitude. So this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to fight my inner bitch. She is ruled by fear, and I no longer need her to protect me. I'm going to prove to myself that I can do things my fear immediately tells me I can't. I'm going to get mentally tough. I'm going to do the things Scott asks me to do. I'm going to do them as well as I can. And I'm going to keep my mouth shut. And in the event that I forget, I'm going to ask him to please remind me to tell my inner bitch to shut the hell up and get to work. Because that hag is not going to keep me from living my best life.

It's time to toughen up buttercup. Physically, and most importantly - mentally.

All the Feels

Over the last couple of months I've been going through a few changes - - most notably, I've started exercising on a regular basis. While that  has been hard and painful and exhausting - it has also given me something I feel like I hadn't had a good long time - a sense of accomplishment. Seeing what my body can do after just a couple of months of activity - even though my weight is still much higher than I'd like - makes me feel like I'm doing something. I'm being proactive. I'm changing for the better.

Over the last month I've witnessed another difference in myself - - I'm really emotional! I get teary-eyed at the drop of a hat! I've always been one that will cry at sad movies. Get a little misty during those commercials meant to pull at our heart strings. I shed a tear that the beginning of "Up" - but who didn't?!?! But I've never been so on the cusp of tears for such an extended period of time! It would take next to nothing for me get weepy. Real tears!

So I did what I normally do when I don't like something - I pretended it didn't exist. I just figured I was PMSing or something. But a month of PMS seems excessive. So then I thought maybe I was starting "the change". I mean - I am 40 now. Maybe I could be starting menopause? And since I'm trying to behave myself so I can get to my pre-surgery weight loss goal, I didn't get to do what I normally do when I start to feel things - - shovel Cheetos into my face.

This was all very new to me - and I will admit - completely unsettling. I am just not used to this! I'm typically not an overly emotional person - or at least I don't think I am. My fastest go-to emotion is to get angry if anything - so this new sensitivity was really unsettling! And with every instance of my new-found tenderness came frustration. What in the hell is making me so damn emotionally delicate!??!!?

I think this partially played into my going rogue for a week from the gym - I was just completely emotionally beat. I felt like I could have slept 20 hours a day if I would have allowed myself to. I just didn't feel like doing anything. I didn't feel sad. I just felt wiped out. I like to try and self-diagnose - so in addition to PMS or menopause - I thought maybe I was having an acute case of SAD (seasonal affective disorder) because it was absolutely freezing here in Minnesota. But to Scott's credit - he didn't just let me skip and tell me it was ok. He told me to get my shit together and get back to the gym. Exactly what I asked him to do, and exactly what I needed.

My sis Wendy sent me this after our chat. I love it.

On Sunday I was chatting with my sisters and had a full on psychotic break. In public. At a restaurant. Crying. Seriously crying. That was a first. To their credit - they didn't look at me in absolute horror. My sisters are seriously the greatest. Both of them offered up many possibilities for the cause and were very supportive. They both agreed it likely had something to do with the changes I'd been making - especially the physical ones - being more active, etc. I didn't know that was a thing - so just sort of dismissed it, and assumed I was losing my mind. When I got home I watched "Terms of Endearment", thinking I just needed a good cry - - and boy did I cry. Sobs. I did feel somewhat better after...

Monday I met with Scott. I did my walk and then we were chatting a bit. I confessed to him that I was feeling more than a little bit like an emotional nutball lately. Without me mentioning my sisters' theory - he concurred. He told me that physical demands on your body tend to manifest themselves with heightened emotions. Maybe that is why everyone cries so much on shows like the Biggest Loser? They are really pushing themselves physically - and I'm sure there isn't a cheeto in sight!

This revelation did make me feel somewhat better about my new sensitive state. It could be tied back to something positive I'm doing for myself. Getting stronger allows me to be more tender? Maybe? I guess I could probably use a little move touchy feely-ness. Not to worry - I'm sure I'll still maintain sarcastic, a-hole side...that's not going anywhere.

So Monday I will be taking my newly tender self to my appointment with my nutritionist where I will hopefully be cleared for surgery by her department/division, and will have lost the amount of weight necessary to get an appointment with the surgeon. Fingers crossed, people.

At least I know I have tears at my disposal if she doesn't cooperate with me... 

Happy New Year!!

Sitting at work, waiting for 2015 to close itself out, I did some thinking. I don't recall the last time I went into a new year feeling as positive, and excited, as I am about 2016.

Sure - I've gone into years with my list of resolutions...losing weight always at the top of the list...but somehow knowing in the back of my mind that my resolve would flame out like so many others' - but fiercely hoping that it wouldn't. I'd have many self-talks about all of the things I would do - the gym visits I would make, the clean eating I would do, the health I would attain. But inevitably it would all just fall apart after a few short months. I'd stick to my diet. I'd work out. Occasionally I'd really feel like I was getting somewhere - but then I'd get discouraged. Whether that was from limitations I'd still experience due to my size, or seeing myself in a photograph and realizing I didn't look any different in spite of working my ass off. There have been all sorts of tiny things I can point to that discouraged me - but the reality is the task of losing all of the weight I needed to lose would just get too damn daunting. I'd dug myself into too much of a hole, and the benefits weren't appearing quickly enough to keep me motivated to stick with it. As my sister would say: I had a lot of quit in me.

I will forever look back on 2015 as the year I finally allowed myself to be honest. To admit that my weight is something I needed very serious help with. To admit how strict my limitations were becoming because of my size. To admit that it was very unlikely that I could do it on my own without some major help. To admit that surgery was likely my best, if not only, real option of reclaiming my life. And while that was scary, and honestly a little embarrassing, it was also extremely liberating. To finally be honest with my family and friends about what I was able to do, and not able to do. Finally sharing there were situations I just wasn't comfortable forcing myself into. I will look at 2015 as the year of honesty. And that has allowed me to look at 2016 with a whole lot of something new: Hope.

Today marks 5 weeks of working with Scott. Although I'm still very limited based on what the average person can do, I'm improving. Today I walked 2000 steps (my most to date) and pushed the damn metal sled back and forth across the floor a few times. I could not have come close to doing that just a month ago. My knees no longer swear at me with every step I take. I am actually able to think about something other than my misery while I do my walk. It's getting better every day. And that's just the beginning.

I'm hopeful by the end of January I'll have lost my 50 pounds, or at least be close to it, so I can get my meeting with the surgeon. I'm very much looking forward to being able to get some of this weight off quickly, and start kicking ass from there. I'm proving to myself that I'm willing to do the work to get myself healthy, and I'm just so damn excited about all of the things I'm going to be able to do!!! By the time it's warm out again I'll hopefully be able to go walk without limitations - - just get out and enjoy being outside! Scott has already said we'll be going for hikes and longer walks - which makes me a little nervous because he grins when he says it - but I LOVE hiking!! I'm seriously like a kid on Christmas morning when I think about all of the things I should be able to do this summer! Don't get me wrong - I'm a little nervous as well - but the excitement far outweighs any apprehension.

So here is to 2016. The year of change. The year of bravery. The year of kicking ass. The year of joining in. The year of embracing the chaos. The year of going for it. The year of yes. The year of dedication. The year of gratitude. The year of pushing limits. The year of reclaiming youth. The year of laughter. The year of joy. The year of being present. The year of work. The year of struggles. The year of victories. The year of love. The year of kindness. The year of firsts. The year of self discovery. The year of the unknown. The year of getting to wear jeans again. The year of family. The year of friends. The year of positivity. The year of tears. The year of health. The year of HOPE.

I wish you all the very best in 2016. Thank you so much for joining me on this rollercoaster. Your support means the world to me. I want nothing but the best for all of us. Bless you all.

Let's make 2016 ridiculously amazing. 

Love, Natalie

Any Movement Is Still Movement

One of the biggest reasons, other than just overall health and well-being, that I've decided to finally have surgery is that I really want to be active. I no longer want to live in fear of movement, I want to embrace it. I want to wander and explore and try new things. I don't want to be stifled by my crippling size-related fears. I am sick of skipping things because I may not have the cardiovascular capacity to do them. I want to experience all of the things that interest me without fear!

With this goal in mind, I knew I'd need to start moving much more than I currently was. Granted - this wouldn't be a tough thing to do - I've basically been sitting for the last 4 years. Seriously. It's somewhat shocking and admittedly pathetic how much time I spent being absolutely still. I was caught in a motionless cycle. I weighed so much that movement hurt, or at a minimum was uncomfortable. Not moving just made my weight grow. As my weight grew, so did the hurt and level of discomfort...and so on...and so on. So years later, I was damn near immobile - not to mention I'd get winded from walking 6 steps. Surgery is hopefully going to remove one of those obstacles - - the excessive amount of extra weight I'm carrying around - - which should, in theory make it easier to move my ass around.

In a very un-Natalie-like move, I decided I didn't want to wait until I'd gotten the bulk of the weight off to get started. I wanted to start now. I've worked with personal trainers in the past, and have had great success while I've worked with them. The truth of the matter is - I require accountability. Left to my own devices, I'm not going to push myself. I'm not going to make myself do things that are uncomfortable, and I'm certainly not going to do things that hurt. I need someone to help motivate me to do such things. I don't need someone screaming in my face (the Biggest Loser trainers give me a headache). I simply need someone to tell me what to do, and make sure I do it. So the search for a personal trainer began. I have belonged to one of the larger gym chains here in the twin cities - but knew I could never afford the membership fee + personal training sessions. (seriously - their fees are outrageous) And since YC has refused to move to MN to train me, I had to find another option. Enter Scott Sutherlin and Scott Sutherlin Fitness.

My sister's sister-in-law has attended his boot camps for quite some time now - so I asked her is she liked him. She's a bit of a no nonsense type of gal, like myself - so I figured if she liked him, there was a very good chance I would as well. She had really great things to say about him, and even brokered an introduction for me. Scott and I communicated a bit over text message - I wanted to make sure he knew what he was getting into (morbidly obese, morbidly sedentary - my new term, at a negative cardiovascular level). He had dealt with people who weren't as overweight as I am, but had helped many people lose large amounts of weight - even dealt with post-surgery folks. It seemed like a fit on paper - so we met.

At our initial meeting he made me stand the entire time. I stood for 45 minutes just chatting. I was miserable. He admitted he was doing it on purpose. I started to sweat. My knees were killing me. My hips hurt. But I did it. I don't remember the last time I stood for that long. And we seemed to have compatible personalities. I liked him immediately. So we set another meeting - this one he allowed me to sit - and we went over my short-term goals. I told him I needed to lose weight pre-surgery in order to get my appointment with the surgeon. Told him about the liquid diet, etc. We decided to contact the doc and see how much I need to lose in order to do the minimum amount of days of a liquid diet. I spoke to the nurse and they seemed very on board with me losing 50 pounds and then I only have to do 10 days of liquid before the big day.

It was the week of Thanksgiving - so Scott requested I meet at 5am on Friday morning after the holiday. I work an odd schedule - I'm a bit of a night owl - so I don't remember the last time I saw 5am, but I agreed. If you're going to do something life-changing, you might as well go all the way, right? So I arrived in what felt like the middle of the night for my first session. Excited to get moving in the right direction, but also completely panic-stricken. He simply told me to start walking. His gym is not a room filled with treadmills and elliptical machines. His gym is a room filled with free weights and squat racks and weighted bags and tires and ropes. So I started walking around the room. There were a couple of other people there - but they just went about their business. Everyone visiting while working out. A very cool vibe. I walked...slowly.... He had me change directions a couple of times. I felt like my heart was going to explode, and my knees were screaming - - but I kept moving. I walked for 15 minutes. Consecutively. This is not anything the average person would even remotely call a victory, but for me it was a total win. I hadn't walked for 15 minutes in....I couldn't even tell you the last time I did. And that was it. He is easing me into activity. He's not going to try and throw a ton of crap at me to make me miserable - he's going to work with me, and my limitations. He's got a plan to push me out of my discomfort zone, and become a mobile person.

I'm a week and a half in at this point. I've walked all but one "free" day I was granted by Scott. I've done the ropes (which I lovingly refer to as the ropes of death) a couple of times. I've carried 3 pound weights around with me a couple of times. I've started increasing my walks from a flat time to a "step count" on my FitBit. Gradually increasing so it doesn't make me panic and run. And I'm doing it. I've had a couple of days - one in particular - where I seriously contemplated skipping, but I haven't. I'm held accountable now. And I think Scott and I are just getting started on what will be a long, sometimes love-hate, relationship.

I'm hopeful that by starting to move now, it will make recovery better/faster/easier. I'm hopeful that by proving to myself that I can still do things when I'm at my worst, it will instill in me the belief that I can certainly do anything I put my mind to when I get some of these lbs. off. As much as my internal dialogue during most of walks started out being me chastising myself for allowing my bod to get to this ridiculous state, it is gradually changing. Rather than dwelling on what I did (or didn't do) to get myself to the immobile mass that I was, I'm focusing on what I'm going to be able to do. And I'm starting to suspect I might be kicking ass before we know it. 

from the mouths of babes

Last weekend I was finally able to spend some much-needed time with the fam to celebrate my dad's birthday. My 4 year old nephew had a birthday party, so arrived a little later than I did. Here was our exchange shortly after his arrival.....

Looking at me very seriously

G: Natalie - when are you having surgery?

Me: I don't know yet, buddy. I have to wait for the doctor to give me the date.

G: Are you scared to have surgery?

Me: A little bit, but I'm mostly excited because I'll be way more fun .... I'll be able to run and frolic and play with you guys.

*** short break while we try to explain frolicking to a 4 year old and his 8 year old sister ***

G: I want you to have surgery.

I really do have the greatest, most supportive family...right down to the four year old.

The Waiting Game

It has been brought to my attention that I've been slacking.... Not only at my pre-surgery responsibilities, but at posting updates. My apologies. I kind of felt like I wasn't really doing much, so didn't have much to write about - - but then I realized that's the point. If I want to share with you all what I'm going through, you should also understand what feels like a never-ending waiting game. Waiting for the next appointment. Waiting for everything to stop hurting so I can feel motivated to do the walking/arm-movements they've given me to do. Waiting for the PMS I've been experiencing the last few days to pass - - you know PMS - that bitch that causes you to only want to eat crap and sit on the couch watching "Jane the Virgin" on Netflix when you're supposed to be dropping 30 pounds so you can get that coveted appointment with the surgeon. Waiting for that last department to clear you for surgery, so you're one step closer to actually getting to take this giant leap that you've finally given yourself permission to get excited about. Waiting...and waiting... and waiting.

So during this time of waiting I've been trying to drop 30-40 pounds on my own so I can finally meet with the surgeon, get put on a liquid diet to drop an additional 30-ish pounds and hopefully get that surgery scheduled so we can get this show on the road! This has been going pretty well until the last couple of days when I have found it a bit more of a challenge to stay on task with my calorie intake. I'm still tracking everything on myfitnesspal (be my friend! User name: SlimmingDowntoSexy ) but definitely would have gotten sad faces when I closed out my diary...if they used that sort of ostracizing system. I also haven't felt like doing a thing. I've gotten some laundry done. Cleaned a bit. Went shopping for some of the 342 vitamins I need to take. But other than that I've been on a 3 day bender of laziness. Really going to need to nip that in the ass soon.

Other than my epic collapse the last few days, things have been going pretty well. I was doing my walks - short, 5-6 minute walks, a few times a day. This doesn't sound like much, and it isn't. But compared to what I'd been doing, it's progress. I'm wearing my FitBit ( Be my friend! user email: slimmingdowntosexy@gmail.com ) which I know many don't trust because it isn't exactly the most accurate - but if you use it for consistency - - trying to reach similar numbers each day, and don't focus on the fact that you walked 14 million fictional steps, it serves its purpose.

Also working on eating better. Cooking more of my own food. Eating less over-processed crap from any of my favorite fast-food establishments. And it's working. I don't enjoy cooking at all - but I do feel so much better when I don't eat crap constantly. I'm working on some easy meals that are still healthy but don't dirty 8 pans and don't take forever to prep. I'm getting there.

The other milestone I've reached is that I had my CPAP follow-up appointment last week. It went very well, and I've been cleared for surgery by them as well. He did have some rather alarming info to share. There is a number that is measured by the sleep study, and my CPAP machine - - it's referred to as AHI (apnea-hypopnea index). Basically, the number of times in an hour that your breathing is interrupted in an hour. Anything under 5 is considered good. What did they measure mine to be at my sleep study? 163. One-hundred sixty three. SERIOUSLY!!! He basically said he didn't understand how I was functioning. How I was able to make it to work, etc. What he didn't know was that I would spend about 12 hours in bed trying to get enough rest to add up to an 8 hour night. I'd many times fall asleep on the couch shortly after waking up. I would frequently feel on the verge of falling asleep when driving long distances. My sleep, or lack thereof, was just another contributing factor me me allowing life to pass me by - I was too damn tired.

So after a month of using my CPAP machine - and I do use it every night, the entire time I'm sleeping - what is my AHI? 1.2. One point two. ONE POINT TWO!!! My educator couldn't believe the improvement. And I do feel totally different. Don't get me wrong - the first 2 weeks were rough. Whether it was machine-related, or just random life timing - I felt like I had a fever, and I couldn't seem to get my breath when I wasn't on the machine. But sticking with it - combined with eating better and moving a bit more - has resulted in a much more rested Natalie. I still like my sleep - don't get me wrong. I still get about 9 hours of sleep a night. I would sleep more if I let myself. But I've started setting an alarm for around 9 hours, and I feel great. No more chronic drowsiness. I can actually function.

So I'll say this to any of you who are maybe like me.... who sleep like crap - up every hour or two - but feel like you might feel claustrophobic with the mask on...give it a try. Do the sleep study. I still have to tell myself to relax for about 30 seconds every night when I put the mask on - but I sleep really well. Now I still wake up every few hours, because my body hurts if I lay in on position for too long - but I don't have to get up to use the loo. I don't check my phone to kill time until I fall back to sleep. I reposition myself and I'm right back out. I'm grateful this whole process insisted I get help with my sleep issues. My quality of life would have continued to disintegrate, or would have ended one one of my "breathing episodes" became a permanent episode.

So my goals for the next few days are to eat better and move my ass. I have an appointment with my dietitian November 2nd. I'm hoping I can be down close to 30 pounds by then. Keep the positive thoughts coming.... =)

Baby Steps to Surgery

Now that I'm about a month into this process, I figured I would give you guys an update on how this whole process is progressing. I will assure you - it is not speeding right along, but things are developing...at a snail's pace.

My first day of meetings was September 9th. My initial meetings with a nurse, a doctor and a psychologist went well. They all granted their initial support to my cause, and allowed me to move onto the next stage. I conducted my at home sleep study, failed miserably and had to go to the hospital for an overnight sleep test. (see last post for that whole fiasco)

My next round of appointments was a follow-up with the doctor to go over my blood tests. My body continued to astound everyone by continuing to avoid diabetes, even though it runs on both sides of my family. I continue to be the healthiest (internally, anyway) morbidly obese person I know. No major issues except a couple of lower levels that can be corrected with additional vitamins. I am currently taking 4 different types of vitamins, with more to come. I think this is payback for mocking my parents for the volume of vitamins they take. It's karma. =)

I also had my first appointment with my nutritionist. We went over my 3 day food diary and picked out just a couple of areas for improvement - and by a couple I mean a trillion. We went over a few goals for me to work on - basically cooking my own food, and not continuing to eat nothing but crap. I was told there was no reason to continue with my "bon voyage" tour to foods I like, as I'll be able to eat pretty much whatever I want after the surgery - just less, and not as frequently - but there is no "forbidden" list, which made me rest easy. Having a list of things I can't have - like when I was trying Slimgenics - just makes me rebel eventually. Although I know I'll have major changes to make, and will need to eat much more healthy than I have typically done over the last 20+ years - it's comforting to know I'll still be able to live a somewhat normal life. The only major limitation they've discuss so far is that they'd like me to go 1 year without drinking alcohol. That could prove to be a bit of an issue - - but I do imbibe much less frequently than I used to - so I think I can do it. Plus, I don't recover like I used to - - so it won't be so bad.

A few days later I had my follow-up with the sleep clinic where I received my CPAP machine. Somewhat terrifying - but now that I've been using it for almost 2 weeks, I can honestly say I don't mind it. I still have to tell myself to chill the hell out every night when I put it on. Even though my brain knows I'm going to be able to breathe just fine - I still take about 15-30 seconds of deep breathing to relax a bit and trust it. It is amazing how much better I sleep. I still have nights where I sleep over 8 hours - but they said that is pretty standard. But I don't need to spend extra time in bed trying to get a reasonable amount of sleep, because I'm up 7 times a night. It's definitely saving me some time, and I do feel so much more rested.

I had my 2nd psychologist appointment, and she still thinks I'm a good candidate. The good news is, they haven't put me in a straight jacket. =)

Around this time I was informed of the panels decision regarding weight loss prior to surgery. I need to lose between 50-70 pounds before surgery. I was advised I need to lose at least 30 pounds before getting my appointment with the surgeon, when I will be put on a liquid diet to lose the last 20-30 pounds before surgery. They have scheduled me an appointment with a doctor on staff who can help me lose weight with medication if necessary. The issue is that this isn't included in the prepay cost of the surgery - and my crap insurance won't cover any weight loss programs. I assured them someone that weighs what I do, being as motivated as I am, can lose 30 pounds on my own. I weighed in today and am currently down 14 pounds. I have another appointment with my nutritionist in a month. If I am not losing by then, I can still meet with the doctor a few days later - but I will do it myself. Then I can hopefully get an appointment with the surgeon to get a date set!

So that's where I am - trying to lose some pounds. Trying to move a little bit more. Trying to keep all these damn meetings straight. Slowly plugging along....