Thank You

I created this blog for me - largely to have an account of my journey and to have an outlet for many of the crazy things that bounce around in my head. I also created this blog because the blogs of so many other "Bandsters" have been incredibly meaningful in so many parts of my journey: learning about the band, understanding the changes that I'd need to make, understanding the reality of living with the band, seeing hope and success and a possible solution.

I'm not a great member of the blogging bandster community. I'm a horrible commenter and a class A lurker. I read consistently but don't reach out a lot. That doesn't mean though that the words of others aren't hugely important to me and that they haven't been a huge part of what has given me inspiration, sustenance and camaraderie over the past year+.

Thank you en masse to the bandster blogging community. The Internet is a funny thing. We all share a common experience in sitting down at our individual computers and typing away. Sharing intimate details of a common experience, warts and all, and then sending it out into cyberspace.

Before my surgery, I would read and then re-read and sometimes re-read again blogs just trying to soak in the success. I would look at their tickers of 40 pounds, 80 pounds, 100+ pounds lost and dream. The before and after photos. What they could eat.

After my surgery, I went back and re-read again. The blogs were so helpful in reassuring myself that I had made a good decision. Especially when all I wanted to do was just eat something for some kind of nurishment. I read about how people ate real food and had real lives and knew that I would get there too.

Now, I often go back and re-read parts of my own blog and remember where I was and celebrate how far I've come.

So thank you. To everyone who puts their feelings out there. To everyone who dares to hope that the band might be their own solution. To this wonderful community. Thank you for all of the support. My apologies for my crappy commenting skills but please know that there are many others out there in the ether who are supporting you too and wishing you all of the success in the world. And, who know the road you're traveling as we are on it as well.

The Other Side

Roughly 364 days and 18 hours ago, I was going under the knife. I was ever so slightly coming up from my bottom. I was cautiously, fearfully, oh-please-God, hopeful that this time might be different.


I was too scared to say difinitively that I would lose the weight. It was too much to hope for. It was too incomprehensible. Of course, being a hair's breadth away from 300 pounds was pretty incomprehensible too.


June 16, 2011 is just another day. But, it's an important milestone. An important marker and definite cause for celebration. It's a big day.


In twelve months, I have lost 100 pounds... almost on the nose. 100 pounds. 100 pounds. That's too many sacks of sugar to count. I meant to go to Petsmart to see if I could pick up two fifty pound bags of dog food at a time but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to. How then, could I live with that much more weight with me all of the time? I tell you what, it's a whole lot easier to live without it.


What has changed...


I don't sweat anymore. Unless I'm actually exerting myself or it's really hot. A miracle.

I'm a dynamo around the house. I cook. I clean. I do laundry. I play with Grace. I pick things up.

I wake up and even though I don't like mornings, I'm ready to go.

I go to the mall and buy clothes.

I easily fit in airplane seats.

I look around rooms with lots of people in them and know that I'm not the heaviest.

I've gotten more used to compliments.

My wedding rings are too big.

I wear a size L top and a size 14 pants.

I'm proud of myself for working my band and losing the weight.

I can run a mile. And consider doing more.


The biggest change though...

The space in my head that used to be consumed with weight and food and the resulting pain 24 hours a day is remarkably peaceful. Just peaceful.


I still go through the Dairy Queen drive thru occasionally. Or eat too many chips. Or not enough protein in the day but most days, the vast majority of days, I have an almost unconscious sense of peace about food, weight and exisitance.


I know my body isn't perfect. Absolutely far from it. But I still occasionally catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and do a double-take. I am happy with my weight. I am estatic about my weight. I feel healthy. I feel strong. I feel at peace about my weight. This is a miracle.


A few random thoughts as I round out the year...


Does anyone else sometimes like to just like to look at your ticker? In so many ways, I feel like everything has changed, yet everything has stayed the same. Sometimes, looking at my ticker and seeing the numbers there seemed more real than looking at my own body. The period of time when I kept thinking that every mirror was a "skinny mirror" for example.

I guess when some people lose weight, they end up smaller than they have ever been before. I was this size (or within 20 pounds of it) until the rails fell off of things after I got married. I look like me again. However, this time I appreciate it. When you're 100 pounds overweight, 20 or so doesn't seem that bad. I'd still really like to lose at least 10 more pounds and probably 20 more pounds. And I will. And we'll see how that feels. But this feels really good too.


The peace inside my head about what to eat, when to eat, how much I ate, all of that is beyond a miracle. The contentment I have about my weight is another mini miracle. I'm good with it and that is all that matters. I'm good.

So, what's next. In the immortal words of Matthew McConaughey, "just keep livin'". I expect to reach my goal weight in the next 2-4 months. Hopefully, closer to 2 months. I will keep taking care of my band so it remains a healthy partner in my heatlth and wellbeing. And I will run - acutally run - a 5k. And I will be proud as punch of myself.

One year ago I was too scared to fully hope. I lost 100 pounds. WOO HOO!

Here are the numbers by month:

June 2010 - 22 lbs
July - 9.6 lbs
August - 13 lbs
September - 8.6 lbs
October - 8.8 lbs
November - 8.4 lbs
December - 6.0 lbs
January 2011 - 3.2 lbs
February - 4.8 lbs
March - .2 lbs
April - 8.8 lbs
May - 3.4 lbs
June - 2.2 lbs

My before measurements:

Bust - 52, Waist - 49.5 , Hips - 59

My "now" measurements:

Bust - 43 inches, Waist - 38 inches, Hips - 45 inches

That's a total loss in inches (thus far) of 34.5 inches.

Progress pics - 299/203

I ran.

I ran a mile. Actually, I ran slightly over a mile. A mile plus. And I didn’t die. And I maybe could have gone further. Maybe. I wasn’t setting the world on fire in terms of speed. But I jogged. I trotted. I ran. So far away.

I ran a mile. Four laps around the track. I sprinted about 50 feet at the end and my legs were wobbly but generally, I felt ok. I was working. I was sweating. My throat had that 8th grade P.E. burning feeling. After, we walked up and down the stadium seats and then walked another mile-ish.

I had to do a stress test as part of getting approved for surgery – as I’m sure many of you also did. In a stress test, you have to walk until your heart rate reaches a certain level. I remember the nurses saying that you should then walk/run for as long as you can after you reach the heart rate level. I barely made it to the heart rate level. I remember the lady asking me if I wanted to go on or stop and I definitely needed to stop. I couldn’t inhale a breath. I told her this after I sat down and she said I was hyperventilating. Literally.

Before the surgery, I spent a lot of time dreaming, hoping, bargaining, etc. about what it would be like to lose the weight. What I would look like? What could I wear? How would I walk up stairs? How would I fit in airplane seats? How I could dry my hair without sweating to death. Maybe I could run a 5k. Actually run it. Cross the finish line. My own personal marathon.

My old neighbor Jenny remembered that I’d said I had this pipe dream and suggested we register for this local race (loosely using that term). Maybe I could run the last mile she said. Yes, let’s do it I said. Without her push, this would always be something on the list that I hope to get to one day. But probably never will.

So, we went up to the track last night and started.

Long before the surgery, I remember hearing Elisabeth Hasselbeck talk about wanting to get back in shape and have her daughter be able to say “My Mommy is strong.” And that really resonated with me.

I desperately want Grace to be healthy, strong and happy with her body. Please God – don’t let her have the weight issues that I have had. And her father has had. And so many in our families have had. The odds are stacked against her genetically. I so want to be a good role model for her. Healthy and fit. Not hung up on nuances of imperfection.

I had a revelation last night while I was running. We were talking (and I was huffing) about being active and how we were active with our families growing up. I realized that I don’t have any positive memories about being active as a child. My memories are wrapped up in athletics. Playing a sport that I wasn’t good at, didn’t enjoy.

I played sports because I thought that’s what was expected – and it most likely was. My family was very wrapped up in team sports. I played softball, volleyball and basketball until my sophomore year of high school. Why? Because that’s what you did. My brother is a successful athlete. My dad is an athlete and coach. My mom is a fan.

I remember shooting lay-ups with my dad and trying hard to do it right but not succeeding really well. Playing sports was always a high stress situation because I never had confidence that my body was going to do what it was supposed to do. I am not coordinated. I can be more coordinated if I really try but I still am only marginally successful. I am not an athlete. When I think about being active with my family growing up, it’s usually a frustrating, high stress kind of memory. It wasn’t fun. I didn’t enjoy it.

I have maintained for quite a while now that I hate to exercise. And I do. Now, if I go for a walk or something, I do feel good after but I’d still rather sit on the couch, read a book and eat chips. I realized that I associate exercise/being active with something that you HAVE to do rather than something that people might choose to do. They might choose to do this for many different reasons. But it can be a choice. On their terms. And about what is important to them, not about living up to someone else’s expectations.

I’m sure this is like saying that the sky is blue to most people but I don’t think I’ve ever thought about this before. I always assumed that I just didn’t like to exercise because that is how it was/is. I never thought about how that might be a conditioned view. Maybe I don’t like to exercise/be active because I haven’t ever had a positive experience? Because I haven’t ever chosen to do it? Because I haven’t ever chosen what I wanted to do? Because I haven’t ever said – I wonder if my body can do this? Let’s find out.

Am I going to run a marathon? Nope. That is still something that isn’t going to happen. Why – because I don’t want to. I really don’t want to. However, there is a glimmer in my mind that maybe I could if I wanted to. Maybe. Still don’t know.

But I am going to run a 5k. The whole way. With a number pinned to my shirt. I can run. And Grace can say “My Mommy is Strong” and so can I. Because I choose to, because it’s important to me and because it’s meaningful to me. And that is all that matters.

Inching closer

I had a fantastic girl's trip to Texas this past weekend with two of my best girlfriends. So fun! And such an easier packing/dressing/stressing experience being 98 pounds down.

That's right - 98 pounds. So close to one of the biggest milestones of them all.

I did a modified three-day liquid diet last week to try to close the deal but didn't make it. That's ok.

My band was super tight while I was in Texas which was kind of a pain. I was thinking it was from flying but I haven't ever had flying problems in the past. It finally dawned on me as I was leaving that I was pre-menstrual. Being much tighter for roughly the week before my period is pretty common.

So, I'm kind of being lazy eating-wise for a bit and then I'm going to try to do the modified liquid thing and at least get down past 100 pounds down. This will also get me into "onederland".

It was so weird when I was packing. We expected Texas to be super hot. I actually checked my packing list twice because it seemed like there was so little clothing in my suitcase. Before, any trip would have been hard to pack for, let alone a trip to someplace hot. It's so much easier weighing 98 pounds less. Finding clothes, buying clothes, wearing clothes, moving, being.

I'm at the mall. In a regular store. Buying size 14 pants and L tops. Truly bizarro world. Time to start getting dressed facing the mirror in dressing rooms. This still doesn't feel real!!!

13.6 To Go!

Liquids stink but it's nice to see downward movement!