Becoming the Story of Success

I have been reading success stories on www.weightwatchers.com and they truly are inspiring.  I, at one time, was that success story.  This time around, I am going to make sure, I remain the success story.  When I look at the "big picture" it appears to be an overwhelming one.  However, it feels totally obtainable this time around, because I have done it before.

My first time around, I took baby goals and baby steps because I knew if I looked at the bigger picture of just what I needed to accomplish, I would get overwhelmed and quit.  This time around, I am not focused so much on the smaller goals but the large one.  My first big goal is to get that Tiffany's bracelet from my mother no later than December 31, 2011.  I have averaged it out... 2 pounds a week.  That is considered to be within "a healthy range". And about two months before then, I have my friend Heather's wedding to participate in.  I really want not only to look better but feel better about the way I look come picture time.

While I can see the bigger picture, I do need to take baby steps to get there.  Today I had a non-scale victory.  I was to go to lunch with some co-workers.  I typically am fine with food when I have or bring my own.  I portion it out, count the points, track the points, become full... and wah-lah... success.  However, restaurants are always a trigger for me because I am put near temptation.  While dining at a restaurant may seem normal to some, for me it is like a recovering alcoholic walking into a bar.  Simply put, it is a struggle.

My co-worker wanted to go to Chili's.  I love the chicken ranch sandwich at Chili's.  I mean, let's face it, I didn't get this big eating just a side salad at Chili's.  So, when I found out we were going there, the sound of angels sung and I was ready for my deep fried chicken sandwich slathered with all the ranch my little heart could desire... and freedom fries of course.  (I think we are still supposed to call them freedom fries... LOL)  So, I went to the Chili's website for the nutrition information, found out the points, and realized that in that one meal was about as many points as i am supposed to consume in a whole day.  And while I do have my extra weekly points that I can dip in to if I do need to splurge, I decided that I really should look at some other options.  So, I calculated the points, figured out exactly what sounded good and what was worth it's point value and left for the restaurant. When I arrived, I didn't bother looking at the menu as I knew I would just be tempting myself.  I simply ordered what I had already calculated and called it a day.  My choice was chicken fajitas with the tortillas but no cheese, guac., or sour cream... extra pico since it's free!  I also ordered a side of black beans because I knew the extra protein would fill me up even more.

I was very excited that I had made such a choice.  It was like I finally got it.  It clicked.  I feel like I am finally mentally with the program that I have struggled so long to get back into.  While I am only concluding week 3, I feel better about the program and my success than I have in years.

Side Note: The service was so awful.  It took an hour and a half to get my food which they brought over completely burnt.  At that point, we couldn't afford to waste any more time with them remaking my meal so I only ended up eating the black beans.  But it was enough to hold me over until my afternoon snack.  And most of all, I didn't feel like I was missing out on a thing.  I didn't feel like I was forced to eat only green things.  I was content and left not even thinking about or feeling like I missed out on the chicken ranch sandwich.

Here's to another day on the journey of slowly becoming the success story I dream to be!

Tiffany's 14mm Bead Bracelet

my mother and i have been fighting this weight loss battle for most, if not all, of our lives.  the first time i healthily lost substantial weight was with my mother's suggestion for me to join weight watchers. we really inspired one another.  we would call each other when we were having a bad day.  we would get excited about the other's weight loss and that would light the fire within ourselves to stay on track.  while we were 2500 miles apart, it was like we were going to meetings together.

since i have been off of the weight watchers journey, my mother has stated to me that she needs her buddy back.  she has maintained keeping most of her weight off, but hasn't gotten down to her goal weight.  a while back we made tried to make a motivational bet.  we were each to lose "x" amount of pounds and if one didn't they owe'd the other person $50.  well, the time period came and went, and neither of us lost the amount we were supposed to, and we called it a wash since we each owed the other $50 bucks.  that bet was supposed to start a longer journey towards something that each of us have been eying for quite some time... the 14 mm silver bead bracelet from Tiffany's.  we each have the 10 mm and got it before the 14 mm existed.  but, the 14 mm bracelet is something else.  not an everyday piece, but a stunning piece of perfection! 

a few days ago i was talking to my mom and suggested we do something to really motivate each other.  clearly the lose x amount by x date didn't work.  this time i suggested that when i lose so much and my mom loses so much, we buy the other person the bracelet.  my mom has about 50 pounds she would like to lose to get close to goal and mine is 100.  I still wont be at my goal weight then, but i definitely will be way more comfortable in my own skin.  my mother asked me if it was going to be based on who lost it first and i told her that i didn't think that was fair.  first of all, i have way more to lose, but secondly, she is older and will lose it at a different pace than i will.  also, hers may be harder to lose because she is closer to her goal than i am.  the last 20 pounds is always the hardest to lose!  

so the guidelines are this:

when mom loses 50 pounds, i buy her the bracelet

when i lose 100 pounds, mom buys me the bracelet

the bracelet will not only serve as an awesome piece of jewelery, but it will serve as an anchor.  an anchor to reflect on the accomplishments we have made.  an anchor that reflects where we don't want to return.  and most of all, an anchor that reflects this journey we have endured side by side.  

i couldn't ask for a more awesome best friend.  so this blog is to you mom!  good luck on your journey.  i cant wait to ride the wave with you!  it isn't going to be fun!  and most days it isn't going to seem worth it.  and when the gravy calls your name, you call me because together, we can do this!!!!!! 

i can picture it now, that sparkling piece of perfection on my wrist... and i cant wait to buy you yours!!!

this week's weight loss: -3.6
total weight loss: -9.4

Skyzone - also known as HELL ON TRAMPOLINES

I am tired of people telling me that my blog posts are making them cry... so, tonight I am writing about something a little less mushy.

This is a little poem to sum up my experience from this evening at the trampoline workout class:

Colleen, Colleen, I thought we were friends,
Colleen, Colleen, you tried to kill me!
Colleen, Colleen, you said it'd be funny,
But how could I laugh when I couldn't breathe!

Colleen, Colleen, I face planted in front of all your friends,
Colleen, Colleen, the only lady kicked my ass at leg lifts!
Colleen, Colleen, next time you want to try to kill me,
At least fly my folks into town so that they can say their final goodbyes!

Colleen, Colleen, If you don't like me you should have just said so,
Colleen, Colleen, that class had me sweating like a pig!
Colleen, Colleen, I could hardly walk up my stairs when I arrived home,
because I could hardly lift my leg the few inches to get up each stair.

Colleen, Colleen, I don't think my heart has ever beat so fast,
Colleen, Colleen, I got a cramp in a stomach muscle that I didn't know existed.
Colleen, Colleen, I will probably join you next Wednesday at Skyzone,
because of the hunky beautiful black man that checked us in!!!

ps.  This doesn't rhyme or make much sense because let's face it, I simply don't have the energy right now!!!

Putting Others Before Myself

For most of my life, I put others before myself.  For a few years, I had been considering joining the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's (LLS) Team In Training.  It is an organization that helps to raise money for research and patient services for those fighting blood cancers.  I had been hesitant because you commit to raising a substantial amount of money for the LLS.  I used the excuse of, I will do it next year when I am in better shape.  But this year one of my dearest friends, Tryphena, had done it and really encouraged me to do the same.  Once she completed her season, I went to an orientation to get familiar with the specifics of the program with my friend Colleen.  We both decided that we wanted to join but because of the strict "no strollers at training" policy, Colleen was unable to join.  I was still on the fence because I was required to raise about $2,500, which is a big commitment.  Additionally, someone of my size, isn't typically seen as the marathon/half-marathon type.  With a little pushing from Tryphena, I was signing the paperwork...

I knew that once one person had made a donation in my honor that there would be no turning back.  Not only would I not let down the LLS, I really couldn't let down a family member or friend who had donated to the cause in my honor.  My thought process was, they wouldn't have contributed if they didn't think I could do it.  So, what does Tryphena go and do???  she makes the first donation...  That's it, no turning back.  

Training was quite the adventure.  Training for a half marathon in the middle of the summer in the greater Sacramento area can be considered a suicide mission.  Many Saturday mornings I awoke to the buzz of the alarm thinking, "oh hell naw".  However, I would roll out of the bed, get the workout gear on, and get out the door to meet with the team.  Many Wednesday afternoons I just wanted to head home, eat dinner, and go to bed... but I got changed at work, got in my car, and drove to meet with the team.  Trainings sucked most days.  Let's face it... I am not the queen of fitness; furthermore, I hate running/walking.  I am cool with swimming, elyptical, biking, etc. but walking and running are just plain boring to me.  Also, my team, wasn't so much of a team.  It was a group full of clicks and I really felt like an outsider.  (Side note: the fastest girl on the team was always so happy and encouraging.  She would always yell good job to me as she was lapping my large ass.  I thought that was awesome.  She was without judgement, she just was there for the cause.)  However, it wasn't the experience that Tryphena had described.  Also, I was always the slowest at training which made me feel like a loser at times.  However, I knew that I needed to keep on, for the cause, and for all those who had donated in my honor.  

Before I knew it, it was October, my mother had flown in to support me, and I was in San Francisco ready for the race.  Because big, slow girls need a little extra time, I was able to take advantage of the early start at 5:30 am.  I remember that morning like it was yesterday.  I had woken up about 4 am, rolled over, looked at my mother and said "this isn't normal!  normal people don't push their bodies to walk or run 13.1 miles at one time!"  So what did I do, I went back to bed and woke up at noon.  JUST KIDDING.  I got my over exhausted, grumpy ass out of the bed, got my workout gear on and headed to the lobby to meet the others that were taking advantage of the early start.  

Before I knew it, I was crossing the starting line.  I had a bracelet that I was able to customize for the day that read "Bev Aunt, I miss you!"   I had joined the team in honor of an amazing family friend that we lost several years ago to leukemia.  I was also wearing my Tiffany's bead bracelet that my father got me, and the box chain bracelet my mom had gotten me.  I had everyone I needed with me on the race... and that was good, because I was out there alone.  Yes, there were 20k of my closest friends out there, but really, I was on the course alone as I was many of the days of training.    

When competing in an event like this, many things go through your mind.  I knew I had trained for the race, but the furthest they have you go is just over 11 miles in training.  You go through a battle mentally:  Can I do this?  Why am I doing this?   What was I thinking when I signed up for this?  When will mile 6 and this effing hills end?  Those are just a few things going through your mind.  But, I knew, after several months of training, approximately $2,500 in donations, and my mom and Tryphena waiting at the finish line... there was NO other option than finishing.  

So I walked.

And I walked.

And I walked some more.

And I posted my progress on facebook.

And texted my coach "I just made the hills at mile 6 my bitch!!!  See ya soon!"

And I walked.  

And I drank water.

And I ate bullshit sports snacks.

And I walked some more.  And then, walking down mile 10 with my coach, whom I had just met up with... I saw two of the most inspirational people in my life... Tryphena, an incredible woman who had proven to me that this is do-able... and my mother, my biggest cheerleader, my role model, and my best friend.  I was so pumped seeing them.  I new that soon it would be over and all worth the work.  I began walking with my coach, Tryphena, and my mom for about a mile and then my coach and I veered off to follow the path.  I later learned that my mom told Tryphena "If she is struggling, I am walking the rest of it with her.  I don't care what anyone says."  Tryphena agreed with my mom.  Just knowing they were waiting for me at the finish was enough to get me there.  When I walked across that finish line, I felt accomplished.  I felt joy.  I felt sadness.  I felt so many emotions.  And then, I saw the hunky firefighters dressed in tux's and holding Tiffany's boxes... and I felt blessed! :)

Ok, so this blog, I swear it has a point and purpose.  While driving to weight watchers on Saturday, I was thinking about how I would make all the time I needed to to train for the LLS race because it was benefiting others.  I didn't want to let others down.  However, the moment the commitment to the team was no longer and the money had been raised, and the race been completed, I stopped.  

I really began thinking, why is that I make the time when I know it will benefit others, but not to simply benefit myself?  I think this question has a very complicated answer.  I think some has to do with underlying issues of never putting myself first.  Also, self worth and self esteem issues.  Oh, and laziness (who are we kidding, this is probably a majority of it).  

As part of taking my life back, I am going to put this commitment in writing, to myself.  I vow to try harder to incorporate workouts into my daily routine.  This doesn't necessarily mean that I will be at the gym 7 days a week on the treadmill for 2 hours a day, but I am going to try to do things for myself that include activity that I enjoy. To start, I am going to go to a trampoline workout class with Colleen on Wednesday.  I hear it is hysterical...


For more information on Team In Training and the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, visit the links below:
http://lls.org/hm_lls
http://www.teamintraining.org/

My personal battle with food, fat, and my ever growing butt.

OH Where to begin...


So I joined the WW (weight watchers) again last week.  This week has been going really well.  I thought I would hate the new program but who can hate free fruits and vegetables... I suppose the scale will tells us tomorrow if the new plan really works.


I find myself on this journey once again... I have fought with my weight for as long as I can remember.  I have done everything from starve myself, take diet drugs, binge, diet, etc.  I have only found true success when my mom several years ago asked me to go to weight watchers because she was doing it too.  She wanted a partner in crime and she knew I was struggling with both my weight and self-esteem.  I was a college student and I am sure it hurt her to see me struggling.  It was the best thing she could have done. While we were 2500 miles apart, we kept each other on track.  We were each other's go to person when having a rough day or when wanting to give up.  I lost about 75 pounds, and was back into my jeans I wore during my skinniest time in high school.  When I looked in the mirror, I was still fat.  I have always seen fat when I look in the mirror.  But when you experience a drastic weight loss like I did, it takes some time for your mind to realize what size you really are.  I would still go to the plus size section for clothes.  End up trying on the smallest size only for it to be far too big.  One day while shopping with a friend, I found myself in Express trying on a mini-denim skirt.  I tried on their largest size and it was too big.  I was in denial that it was too big because I couldn't possibly be a smaller size.  None if it made any sense.  I hadn't shopped at express in years let alone have a size option issue.  Having said that, I got the smaller sized mini and finally realized I looked pretty good.  I started to embrace the new me.


The new me not only changed the outside but it changed the inside tremendously.  I wanted to go out.  I was way more out going.  I was getting a lot of attention from men.  Some wanted, some not.  Shortly after the weight loss, I was sexually assaulted.  And that, was the beginning of the end for me.  Mentally, I knew that I had not caused the rape.  I knew that I was not at fault for the rape.  But I constantly questioned if it would have happened had I been 75 pounds heavier?  Would it have happened if I was still the fat girl?


I began to feed my depression from this event with chocolate, junk food, fast food, etc.  Pretty much, I have been the poster child of self destruction by food.  I have put on the 75 pounds and then some.  I had gotten to the point that I didn't care how I looked.  I have used the fat as a buffer between me and men.  I have completely given up on my appearance and I think it is my subconscious' way of making sure it never happens again.


I don't know how you recover from a tragic event like I experienced.  I still struggle on a daily basis with it.  I have been through months and months of therapy, and while it helps, it doesn't undo what was done.  That night someone violated me in a way that no one should ever experience.


More recently, I have been telling myself that I deserve to be healthy.  I deserve to be fit.  I deserve to feel pretty again.  I deserve to be back in that mini and my jeans from high school.  No one is going to be able to undo that night.  But do I really want to suffer one more day because of it?  Do I want to slowly destroy my body and my health because it is easier than dealing with things?  Do I really want him to win for one more day?


What it comes down to is that I deserve to live.  Really live.  And live the best life that I can live.  With the support of one of my dearest friends, Colleen, she has asked if I want to give it another try.  She has been a support system for me when I really need someone.  I think she really gets me.  I don't really need to say certain things to her, she just knows.  So, I am embarking this journey with her again.  She has started to blog and really motivational and inspirational things.  It has kept me going this week.  I know that when I need strength, it is a place that I can go and read insightful things to remind me of why I am doing this.  I have decided to start a blog, not only to journal my journey, but as a form of therapy for me.  So regardless if it is read, or if it is entertained, it is a place for me to go, mentally, and decompress, vent, share joy, etc.


If you want to follow me on this journey, I welcome it.  And to all those in my life who have stood by my side, who have been my shoulder to cry on, who have brought me joy and laughter over the last few years, thank you!  You are the reason I am still here, even if very broken.


Here's to me finally picking up the damn pieces!