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Posts Tagged ‘weight loss’

I just looked back at my previous entries and realized that I took weight loss off of my plate of goals in May. For two and a half months, I’ve either been half committed or not at all committed to shedding the last 15-20 pounds.

Some of my friends are re-evaluating their lifestyles and setting some health and fitness goals, though, and it’s made me want to finish this thing. I’ve taken a long break, and now it’s time for the final push. The girls are doing a ten week training plan to run a half-marathon. While my knees are screaming, “No, ma’am” to that, I figure I can at least aim to shed 10 pounds during this ten weeks.

Something has changed in my head, though. I’m OK with only going to the gym three to four times a week instead of every day. I keep a running calorie total in my head, not online or on my phone. If I eat as much as I burn in any given day, I give myself a lot of grace. And heck, some days I just don’t worry about it at all and have wine or dessert, as much as I care to have. I think this is what it means to be healthy.

Sure, I still slip some days, struggle with body image and feeling beautiful, but that’s more the exception than the rule, and for me, that’s awesome progress, so I will celebrate.

The Numbers:

Weight: 146.6 (77.4% to stretch goal)
Change in pounds: -6.2 lbs.
Body Fat: 27.7% (-1.7%)
Bust: 36.0″ (same)
Waist: 30.5″ (-0.5″)
Hips: 39.5″ (-1.5)

All told, not bad for two and a half months where I wasn’t focused on losing. I’m excited to see what happens when I make finishing this thing a priority instead of just talking about it!

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  • Weight: 149.0 (75% to stretch goal)
  • Change in pounds: -3.8 lbs.
  • Body Fat: 28.4% (-1.0%)
  • Bust: 34.0″ (same)
  • Waist: 31″ (same)
  • Hips: 39.5″ (-1.5″)

OK, so I had a good loss this time. No doubt this comes because my body was happy that I finally stopped stuffing it too full. A few days of the last two weeks I ate weight loss calories, and most days I ate maintenance calories.

The Not-So-Casual Observer and I have had some conversations lately about my weight. She made me crazy mad one session where I felt she was trying to dictate how much I should eat. I didn’t quite understand why it was such a huge deal when I purged once (especially because I confessed how silly I felt afterward), but the night that I got wrecked after ancient worship by drinking four glasses of wine was easily dismissed.

We had a good conversation about it. Her stance is that eating disorders kill more people than any other psychiatric illness (this is true), and while she doesn’t worry that I’ll become an alcoholic due to my control issues, she could “easily” see me becoming anorexic. Ahem.

I don’t necessarily agree that I’d become anorexic. Given my long history with food issues, though, I see where she’s coming from. So maybe she’s being a bit overprotective, but at the end of the day, there’s a good reason. I felt better after we talked. As an aside, I love being able to talk about the issues in our relationship and having her take them seriously.

So where does that leave me? I’m not sure. I’ve spent some time trying on clothes from last time around, and I’d say I’m about five pounds away from fitting into my smallest clothes. That’s crazy, because even when I lose five pounds I’ll still be 12 pounds heavier than I was. My body is clearly different.

I still don’t feel small. In fact, in the middle of Girls’ Night Out on Friday, I was looking at photos taken by MD (a new friend) and said to Cara, “I look small!” I hope MD will email those photos soon so I can see again, because my brain doesn’t see in the mirror what I saw in the photos. On my year-long quest for truth, I’m hoping to get some here, too.

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Something that’s been weighing heavily on me lately is the idea of saying “no.” Now, don’t get me wrong, I can do it, but I don’t like it, and it usually produces feelings of shame (rage at self), anger (rage at others), or embarrassment (because I’m the “capable” one who can do everything she has to do plus everything you need, too).

The Not-So-Casual Observer and I had a conversation in therapy a couple weeks ago about saying no. I realized that I was so deeply avoiding the things she was asking that I was manipulating and controlling a month’s worth of sessions, so I confessed it to her and we had a really good talk about it. Afterward, one of the agreements we made was that when I don’t want to do something, I will say so.

The thought here is that, because of some of the things that happened in my childhood, I never learned that it was OK to say no. I didn’t have the opportunity to create safe  places where I could disagree or even disappoint and still receive love, so I have to learn how to do it now.

That’s all fine and good, and it works well in the safe relationship that NSCO and I have, but I’m working on letting it translate into other relationships. Yesterday, I realized for the first time that I could say “no” to myself and do it without bringing shame to the party.

Enter the cookie. I bought one of those 12″ iced cookies at the grocery store, thinking that it would be big enough for each of the children to have a wedge for treat for almost a whole week (treats are small in our house). But see, I love iced cookies, and I think I actually ate half of it myself. In two days. Ahem.

Anyhow, yesterday afternoon I wanted a piece of the cookie since there were only two left. I was walking to the cabinet with a slight sense of dread, but then I realized. I can say “no” to myself and have it just be a “no.” It doesn’t have to shame me, it doesn’t have to about what a terrible person I am for eating fat and sugar. It doesn’t have to be about how I’ll never lose another pound and will probably gain back the 75 pounds I’ve lost since I had the baby. It just doesn’t have to be that way.

For the record, I ate the cookie. Actually I overate yesterday on the whole, but at least I owned it. Today I’m reevaluating my goals, asking myself if I really want to be as small as I was after the Joyful Babe was born, since working out was literally a part-time job and I had to count every calorie even in maintenance. Hmm. Will let you know what I decide. Right now I’m still taking a break.

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Whereas last update I didn’t know why I hadn’t lost any weight, this time I do. I’ve done really quite well with eating every two hours, but the nights are still getting to me. A combination of boredom, emotions, and some hormonal changes that occur at this point post-partum has me eating too much. Coupled with not being at the gym nearly as much, it’s easy to see why I’m not losing.

The Numbers:

  • Weight: 152.8 (71.2% to stretch goal)
  • Change in pounds: -0.6 lbs.
  • Body Fat: 29.4% (-0.2%)
  • Bust: 36.0″ (same)
  • Waist: 31″ (-1.0″)
  • Hips: 41″ (same)

Here’s the rub: My joints are bothering me lately, so I try to take a day off when that happens. Sometimes two, even three days are required before my knees feel better. My hip flexors are driving me crazy, even though I’m only working out like five hours a week. It sucks, frankly. Anyhow, I don’t have much choice in the matter until I can afford to go back to Rolfing, and I don’t see that happening any time soon.

After the Joyful Babe, I hit a plateau around here and decided to take a six week break from losing. I pretty much ate what I wanted (within reason). I didn’t log calories or workouts, just took it easy, almost like maintenance mode. I think I’m going to hang out in this place for a couple of weeks. It feels like the right time. Last time I was able to drop the rest of the weight really quickly after my break, losing the last twenty pounds in less than two months. While I can’t say for sure that will happen again, here’s hoping.

Don’t even get me STARTED on clothes. I can comfortably wear two pairs of jeans. One is an 11/12 from Express (these jeans are more than a decade old, but they are my favorites). The other is a size 6 from Talbots. Do we see a problem here? I’m guessing that I’m a generous size 8 or a small size 10, but that’s just weird.

The other weird thing is my measurements. When I compare them to 7 mos pp from last time, my waist is two inches smaller (yay!) but my hips are two inches larger (boo). I am so not a fan of this! Makes me looks even more disproportionate since I tend to be . . . um, thicker on the bottom half.

Anyhow, so it is what it is. I can’t be too upset since I’m not doing the work, and I’m hoping that a reasonable break will help me get the remaining weight off in a couple of months when it’s time, and I think I’ll know when it’s time. And hey, by the next edition of Fit Motherhood, it will be summer vacation!!

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Y’all, I feel like everything’s falling apart. I mean, I’m safe and fine, but when did my life get so crazy? I’m teaching at AVC in a week and a half and haven’t started writing for it. Did some therapy homework to be published that just flat out sucks, and haven’t lost any discernible weight for a month. Let me off this roller coaster.

On the flip side, homeschool is almost over for the year. Therapy is kicking my butt in the very best way, and we’re getting settled at our new church. I’ve been spending lots of time with friends new and old, and that’s a great thing. Plus, I’m planning another small tattoo before I get a larger piece sometime later this year or early next.

I’ll bring you Fit Motherhood tomorrow, but honestly I think I still weigh the same as I did two weeks ago. At least I know WHY this time *cough*!

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For the first time, I’m actually pretty embarrassed to bring you an update! If you read here regularly, you know the things I’ve been struggling with lately, but never before have I used that as an excuse for not losing weight. Sigh. Here goes.

  • Weight: 153.4 (70.6% to stretch goal)
  • Change in pounds: -1.4 lbs.
  • Body Fat: 29.6% (-0.2%)
  • Bust: 36.0″ (-0.5″)
  • Waist: 32″ (same)
  • Hips: 41″ (same)

Part of the problem is my night eating. This has gotten way out of control, latel. I’ll do fine all day, eating a moderate amount and going upstairs for the night. Then at some point around 10 pm I’ll just wander downstairs and eat anywhere from 300-500 calories. It’s not generally junk (because we don’t have much in the house), but a handful of almonds, one square of dark chocolate, and a banana is 300 calories. That explains why I’m only in a 350 calories per day deficit; I’d have lost double what I did if I were to cut the night eating.

Right now I’m going to try a modified Medifast type thing (except I’d never actually DO Medifast because a) the soy b) the artificial sweetener c) I’m nursing and d) I can’t spend that kind of cash just feeding myself). I’m eating five 200 calorie “meals” plus dinner. We’ll see if that works for me. I’m thinking it’ll look something like:

9 am: power bar

11 am: 2 eggs, 1 tangerine

1 pm: whole wheat English muffin with coconut oil

3 pm: 1 oz almonds, half an apple

5 pm: dinner

7 pm: green smoothie

9 pm (if necessary, going for 100 calories here, probably a banana)

That should bring me in around 1500 calories per day. My workouts have tapered down to about 6 hours per week, so that should be enough food for my body not to freak out. However, the Radiant One is 7 months old and still not on solids, so she may be requiring a little more nutrition right now. Who knows.

I’m not going to make a goal for the next two weeks. I’m really bummed that I’m not out of the 150s by now like I was hoping, and at this rate, I won’t be for another month (at least). Going to try to give myself some grace in this place, but I’m not happy about it.

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I’m going to whine for a minute, ok? Actually, I don’t care if it’s ok, it’s my blog and I’m just going to do it.

I’m tired of trying to lose weight. I want to eat when I’m hungry and stop when I’m full. I want to stop weighing everything, counting everything, logging everything. I’m so freaking tired of going to the gym every night, stepping on the scale every morning, trying on the same dresses that don’t yet fit every week “just to see if I’m making progress.” It gets old.

I’m not sure if it’s just this particular weight that makes me feel this way. This is within three pounds of my high school weight, a weight that I easily maintained from age 14 to 25 (until I was pregnant with the Firecracker Princess). My body doesn’t seem to want to release any more pounds without a fight, and I’m too tired to want to fight.

I want it to just stand down and drop the fat and be done. I want it to just STOP feeling hungry and STOP holding onto the belly bulge and STOP looking how I don’t want it to look all the damn time.

And yet because I’m in the middle of some pretty intense counseling, all I can think when I say that is, “Why are you so angry at your body? What are you blaming it for? What’s really under all that rage?” It’s the right set of questions at the very wrong time. It’s so freaking annoying. My gut says that someone needs to suffer for my feelings of fear, failure, inadequacy, and that “someone” has always been this body. I have a hard time even connecting this container for my brain to an integrated self.

And we wonder why I have a hard time feeling. Ahem.

Someone did suffer for my feelings of fear, failure, and inadequacy, and sometimes I can take those feelings to Him, but most of the time I grit my teeth, suit up, and punish myself for every perceived flaw. It can be a dangerous neighborhood here inside my head.

Lest you be concerned about me, I’m eating. I’m not puking. I’m not working out too much. I’m accountable in counseling, and I’ve been super honest with the Not-So-Casual Observer about my history. I just needed to try and let some of the steam escape from my pressure cooker heart before it turned on itself again. This feelings business is no joke!

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