Well hey there! I hope you have a fresh cup of coffee, because this is a long one :)
I’ve embarked on a new adventure. Totally different than anything I’ve attempted before. It’s pretty awesome and very difficult, but so worth it! I’m saving my own life. With some help from my friends, of course!
Let me explain. I am overweight. Actually, I am obese. It doesn’t matter how many BMI calculators I try, they all come back with the same answer: FIX IT! NOW! So I am. I have been so incredibly fortunate to get the opportunity to join a program that is helping approximately 35-40 people save their own lives. Turn things around. Be proud of accomplishments. Hopefully someday fit into a jeans size not seen since high school (or before). I will talk more about the program once I have the trainer’s permission to write about it. I won’t give away their trade secrets though; you’ll have to visit them personally for those!!
Until then, I’ll break it down into a simple little recipe:
2 parts education
2 parts understanding
2 parts commitment
The trainers gave me 1 part of everything when I walked in the door. The other part is all up to me.
It’s been interesting thus far! After the first meeting, I headed into a whirlwind weekend of insanity. I was home for all of 10 hours over 3 days. This worked out to two 4 ½ hour naps and 2 showers. I didn’t even attempt to eat right. Everything I had learned weighed on me as I ordered crap to eat. I still ordered the crap. And ate it. The next two days I kinda tried. I ate only from my lunchbox, mostly, which did include specially made foods, but also crap.
My first food journal review didn’t go well. I didn’t even want to look at my trainer as he read it. He told me that my journal said I didn’t care. I tried to argue that. I lost. He made me say out loud, “I don’t care.” I LOATHE that phrase. Something may not apply to me, or I may not have an opinion, but you are taking the time to tell me, so it affects you and therefore, I do care. I do not say “I don’t care.”
I care, dammit. I’ll show you!
Two days later. My first temptation. A birthday BBQ. Burgers and brats and chips and dips and beer and cake and and and. I did it! Okay, my finger slipped into the frosting. Twice. I accounted for it! I kept busy the entire party prepping food and serving food and cleaning and cleaning and cleaning and putting food away and cleaning and cleaning and cleaning. Everyone kinda hung out in the kitchen, so was really easy to chat and keep busy. It wasn’t until hours later that I realized how neurotic I must have appeared. Frantically cleaning. For three hours!
Then there is Walmart. I’m pretty sure they have about 4 hours of video of me wandering around reading labels. Putting things back. Reading more labels. Wandering aimlessly. Reading more labels. Again, I might possibly have appeared a little neurotic.
I hear you over there thinking “might”? “possibly”? “appeared”? Zip it! The trainers have taken away all my favorite foods; they’ve yet to touch my moderate sense of denial!
(Okay, okay, they didn’t take anything away; they merely strongly suggested I stop being an idiot. Okay, that’s my word not theirs. You get the picture).
Temptation number two came yesterday. My FAVORITE local pub. The BEST place to have a burger and some fries and just two beers (ask any cop, no one ever has more than two beers)! Oh and did I mention it was another birthday party? More cake! I did it! I ate before I arrived. I arrived fashionably late. I enjoyed talking with my friends. I did not deck the woman next to me who must have insisted I finish of her fries at least 5 times. She didn’t wear the cake she shoved in front of me either. It really was a successful evening all around!
I met with the trainers again tonight. It was amazing! It hurt! It was an emotionally charged evening. I called one of the trainers a jerk. Yes, I revert to elementary aged name calling when I’m not pleased. I paid for that little comment the rest of the night. It was fun!
Afterwards, I decided it was time to gut the pantry. Stuff had to go. I had two piles, garbage and food bank. In my brilliance, I tossed the garbage out in the garage to take out later. I failed to think about the expired pickles. In the glass jar. Oops! I still have the smell of pickle juice in my sinuses. Or perhaps I smell of pickle juice. Hmmm.
A short time later I nearly lost a plate of chicken to the dogs. Thank goodness they are black lab mixes and therefore a little slow on the uptake. A smarter dog would have feasted! If I told you it was the second near swiping of the night, you might think I was also part lab and also slow on the uptake. So I’ll leave that alone for now.
Do we look like chicken thieves??To make me feel a bit better about this evening of self-induced chaos, I decided to wear one of my favorite jackets to work. This particular jacket lets me advertise my employers name across my boobs, which is always a plus, but also might possibly be mislabeled. I’m wearing a medium! With room to spare! I don’t wear a medium. Unless these jackets are designed for giants. It might be a giants’ medium. Who cares! It’s a medium!
Well, now you are all caught up! It’s been great talking to you! If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go see about changing the tags on all my clothes. One way or another :)
