200.2

Well, just .3 shy of losing 5 lbs. this first week. But still, a good week with my food management.

So much of losing weight and keeping it off, of health and fitness, is mindfulness. Living in the moment. Every bite counts. Every thing I put into my body matters.

Nothing has made that more clear and undeniable than what has happened this week.

On Wednesday we found out that Cassie has Type 1 Diabetes. We’ve had a whirlwind of education, realizations, and emotions.

For the rest of her life, she will have to be mindful of everything she eats. No more unaware snacking, last minute choices, neglecting her body’s needs. Cassie will have to measure her blood sugar before eating anything, she will have to count her carbs, and from these two numbers, she will have to calculate how much insulin her body will need. For each bite. For each day. For the rest of her life.

It’s overwhelming. But then, I think, it is the bold typeface version of what I’ve known already. That knowing where I am with myself at any moment (blood sugar) and being aware of the nutritional value (carbs) of anything I eat matters. It counts. It’s a necessary lifestyle to get fit and stay fit. It’s just that I can get squishy with it. I am mindful, and I’m fit. Then I get lazy, absent from my own life, don’t pay attention. And my health slips.

I think that what scares me about all this is that I use food emotionally as does Cassie. As do a lot of people. But unlike most of us, she will not be able to relax her vigilance. She will have to remain mindful. Which sounds exhausting to me. And daunting.

But maybe that only highlights my own struggles with staying fit. This is a wake up call for sure.

It all counts. Every time she or I or you put something into our body, it triggers reactions. It all matters.

I will be her champion, one of many I’m sure. She has become our messenger now: to take what we eat and how we live to heart. To be present and pay attention.

She’s in good spirits with little break downs of crying and worrying now and then. The amount of information and demands on her has been huge. The implications are for life. But she has been amazing. I think she has matured five years in the last 3 days. She has gone from a deep phobia of needles to giving herself insulin in her stomach already. Not sure I would’ve been so courageous, upbeat and strong.

We’re all in it together, she’s not alone. And she has made the path to health undeniably clear for me.

So this week has brought 4.2 lbs of weightloss and immeasurable conviction and clarity. A powerful week indeed.

202.2

Yesterday was good. I ate well, healthy and so much better than I have been. At the end of the day I did have two unplanned tablespoons of Nutella. I’ve been asking to Dave to hide it from me. That stuff is like crack. But other than that, it was a perfect day, according to my goals for the week.

I dropped 2.2 lbs.

Today I’ve started off with a yogurt parfait for breakfast and my staple, black coffee. A salad is in the fridge for my lunch and I’m going to walk for my 30 minutes. Or more. We’ll see…

Just the act of taking charge, of doing something, is uplifting. Action is monumental.

Baby steps. But steps.

204.4

My highest weight ever. Last time I reached this weight I committed to training for the Danskin. I lost 40 lbs. in 8 months and gained a ton of joy.

I spent this New Year’s Day relaxing for hours. I now feel more relaxed than I have in a very long time. I spent hours and hours watching episodes of last season’s The Biggest Loser and felt quite inspired by the transformations I saw.

I have had great moments of grief, discomfort, disgust and an overwhelming sense of failure. But now, it’s my time. It’s a brand new year. This moment is my life. Not tomorrow.

I love my fresh starts and I’ve reached what feels like my limit. I’ve shared the sad details of my experiences and feelings lately in my journal. You, the reader, will be spared, because in the end, what inspires me is success. And if anyone is reading my blog, I have to assume that they are looking for success, not a sense of desperation. So I’ll save the sorrow for the private pages of my journal (with it’s silver lined pages – literally) and here, I will paint in broad strokes – not to ignore the struggle but to say “I’m going to move forward, despite the struggle.”

This week’s plan is:

Morning pages daily.

Track whatI eat.

Eat no more than 1,500 caloires each day.

Walk or exercise no less than 30 minutes each day.

Read success stories and inspirational material.

Target weight loss for the week: 5 lbs.

Here’s to a brand new year full of baby steps and huge successes.

203

I see that number and can’t believe it. I’m 203 lbs this morning. 42.4% fat. Which translates into 86 lbs of fat I lug around everywhere I go. And I feel it. In my knees, in my Morton’s Neuroma, in my confidence and in my soul.

In desperation this morning I told myself that I am in so much emotional pain that I would do anything to lose this weight. Then the clever side of me retorted “anything apparently except to eat right and exercise.”

I’m one pound shy of my all time highest weight. I won’t pretend to not know how this happened. I need to lose 50 lbs. I need to focus on how that is going to happen.

2010. The year I lose 50 lbs. and stop bitching about my weight. The year I become my best friend.

2009 is wrapping up…

…and my ass is wider than ever. 2009 has been a good year to me in many ways but it has also been a year of broken promises to myself (and that’s the worse kind).

They say that past failures are really only feedback. That there is no such thing as failure, only information. Well, if you can really wrap your head around that and accept that premise, then this past year has potentially served me as a foundation for my successes to come. It’s hard for me to see things that way, so optimistically and self-acceptingly, being predisposed for harsh self criticism and judgment as I am. But really, that would hardly serve me as well.

As 2009 wraps up (because all that’s left really is a week of merry making), I’m a bit overwhelmed by my trail of failed attempts (I mean, of information). I’m overwhelmed physcially and emotionally my weight which hoovers in the 200 zone, give or take a muffin. I’m disappointed to find myself here, in these elastic waist pants and sensible shoes.

It has indeed been a year of information, big projects, big changes, economic depression and perhaps even, dare I say it, emotional depression. I am overwhelmed by the amount of weight I now live with and by the amount I want to lose. But now that I have so much information, I need to learn from it. Learn from what worked and what didn’t. Don’t let my sense of past failures define my future. I’m so leary and weary of failure it’s almost enough to not try again. But that is really not an option. I know how much more alive I feel when I am not insulated by fat. Living fat for me is like living in the shadow of who I really want to be, who I really am.

I am surrounded by great promise. My passions are part of my everyday life now (my husband, my photography, my painting) and there are friends and family all around me. All that’s missing is more of me (and less of me).