Heartache

This is a very emotional post and difficult to write.  Yet my mind and heart feels it needs to be done. 

My dad is dying.

Gosh that’s a hard thing to type.  Let alone, read, think or say.  It hurts.  But it’s the reality.  He’s dying.

The heartache is almost unbearable to even imagine a world without this man. 

Last Sunday he chose to take himself off all his medications. You may recall in January - we brought him home under hospice care.  We continued to treat his diabetes, the Parkinson's, and the Alzheimer's. Now, he’s only on meds that will keep him comfortable. The hospice nursed asked him directly on Sunday what his wishes were.  When he was informed the meds were doing no good for him, he chose to discontinue taking them.  I’m thrilled he was lucid enough to make that choice for himself, and at the same time deeply saddened.

He’s dad. He’s supposed to be here forever.  He’s supposed to walk me down the aisle one day.  He’s supposed to see m through all my difficult time and joyous times in life.  He’s not supposed to be gone.  

The mind knows this is the right thing.  He has no quality of life and he’s been fighting illness for so long now. I’m sure he’s tired. But the heart… the heart has another plan.  The heart isn’t ready to let go and so my mind and heart are in a constant battle over this. 

My friend L said it the best, “This is so hard, even knowing it's right for him and is his own wishes. No matter how "right" it is, this is your dad, and there's no getting out of this without tremendous heartbreak.”

I was thinking about my life with dad and all that he brought to me. He didn't do it alone, of course, mom had a lot to do with my upbringing just as much as dad. Together they made a team. 

A friend asked me my favorite memories of dad and what I expect to take with me once he's gone.  It made me think about writing his eulogy. There’s no way I could stand up in front of people and read it, but I can type it and express just how awesome he was and how much I’m going to miss him.

I know he’s not gone yet, and some may think this is morbid to even do while he’s still alive, but it is cathartic for me to express the love I have for this man.

When I was in 7^th grade my mom married my dad. The following June I bought him a coffee cup that said, “Any man can be a father, but it takes a real man to be a dad.” I didn’t know then just how much that coffee cup would ring true throughout my life.  He was truly a dad. 

He taught me so much. Some useful, like how to BBQ, other things not so useful like how to fish - or he tried anyhow. 

He believed in me 100%.  He never doubted what I could do and always, ALWAYS pushed me to be better than I was.

He stood behind me. Quietly mostly, and helped guide me to make the right decisions in life. And when I didn’t make the right decisions he was there with a gentle nudge to help get me on the right path.

He held my hand. He got to see first-hand the heartbreak of my first love not loving me back.  When I was worried or scared about something life threw at me, he would give me sage advice – advice I didn’t always agree with or think was right – but that’s what kids do. And yet in my later years I discovered that there was some truth to his words.

He gave me the world and encouraged me to experience the world. 

He taught me the importance of family.  Sharing with us the Wraspir hedge. 

He taught me how to laugh by telling me the same goofy joke every time I returned home from college.  I laughed every time. Not because I thought the joke was funny, but because dad was telling it again and amused to do so.

He taught me to dance. Well, not really but kinda. I have fond memories of him putting on the Don Williams LP and begging me, a teenage girl, to dance with him to the song “I Believe in You.”  I’d roll my eyes, but he’d eventually convince me. I was horrible  at following. He'd sing the words he knew and hum the words he didn't.

He taught me to cook.  He and mom decided I should cook once a week.  I started with the basics and as I grew dad introduced me to exotic cuisine like Hunter’s Stew, Spanish rice, Ribs, and anything that could be BBQ’d.

He made me smile. He made me cry. He made me mad. He made me frustrated. He made me love.

My dad is dying. He will be missed. But I find solace in knowing he lived a good life, he’s left a beautiful legacy behind him and he’ll be at peace.

I’ve had to consider life without him and how I will survive.  And the answer is almost immediate, he will still be in my life. Just not physically. 

Every time I light the BBQ he’ll be there.

Every time we tell a story about him, he’ll be there.

Every time I hear I Believe in You, he’ll be there.

Every time I spend with family, he’ll be there. 

He may be gone, but he will not be forgotten.

I love you Dad and will miss you terribly. 

Where were you 25 years ago?



The Canadian Cookie Fairy and I getting ready for the Boat Dance in 1987

Even as I type it I can’t even believe 25 years has gone by. I blinked and its gone.  Whatever will the next 25 be.

Roommate Rachel and I all dressed up.

June 5^th, 1987 was a sunny day. The grounds of TASIS never looked better. Was it because they dressed them up for us graduates? Or was it because I was suddenly going to miss them?  Either way, the sun was out and I was standing at a major junction of my life.  

A plethora of emotions washed through me as we got ready for the ceremony.

Thrilled because I was graduating.  My grades weren’t the top of the class, but they were okay.

Scared at what my future was going to be. What next?

Sad to be leaving my many TASIS friends behind.  We all lived all over the world. Would I see them again? (Remember this was WELL before the Internet and Facebook) Would they remember me?

Nervous to be walking with our class.  Would I trip going up the stairs?  Would I fall on my face after receiving my diploma?

Anxious to get going.  Get the ceremony over with. All the while hoping it went slowly so I can take it in and remember.

But most of all, I was hopeful.  My future was in front of me. I wouldn’t know it at the time, but my life would not turn out as I had naively planned. We thought we knew everything on that day. Yet we now realize we knew very little. We thought we had seen and done it all with living abroad and going to a boarding school. Yet we had done and seen so little. We thought we’d be someone special and save the world. Yet we barely knew who we were.

Dad, me and Mom - I think mom was more proud of the diploma than I was.

Ah…the good old days.  Sometimes I miss them so much my gut aches to go back. Then I remember it was the 80’s and high school really wasn’t ALL that I remember. Classes, schedules, teachers, labs, laundry, dining, study hall, more study hall, more classes, drama beyond belief, more laundry. 

So here’s a toast to the Class of 1987!  We were something then, and we are truly something now!

Race Day

The Race for the Cure (R4TC) was yesterday. It was, again, an overwhelming display of support for breast cancer awareness.  8500 participants raised $1.1M.  Congrats to all of them and their efforts.

The crowd of walkers.

For this supporter, I clapped from the sidelines and helped, instead, man the 3Day booth.  We talked and chatted up all shades of walkers this year and the general feeling was we may have even got a few to consider signing up.

BigBro, Seattle SIL, and Georgia

The day, for me, was more than just breast cancer awareness, it’s a chance to spend time with many of my favorite people....

Princess Lori, Seattle SIL, Moi, Georgia, and R (nickname TBD).

and a few dogs,

OMG I loved this dog. She thought everyone was there to pet her.

I need to find this for Pookie.

and a 2013 Mustang

WOOF!

But mostly the people. 

I have no comment.

Blueberry and I

Blueberry, Moi, Georgia, and Princess Lori

The survivor parade gets me all choked up every year and this year was no different.  The 54+ year survivors amaze me considering how much wasn’t know when they were diagnosed and the 0-1 year survivors get me. Their journey really in its infancy.

Blueberry walking in the Survivor Parade.

After the R4TC, we all headed over to my new favorite field coordinator, let’s see…she needs a nickname…Let’s call her Georgia for now since that’s where she’s most recently from. Anyhow Georgia had the getting started volunteers to her place for a “thank you BBQ.” The weather held out and we all sat on a roof top in downtown Seattle, marveling at their view.  We traded stories, we laughed, we discussed fishing, and politics, and me running the 5K R4TC next year, and so many more topics.  I got a chance to get to know a few folks that I knew from afar, or barely knew via Facebook (turns out one of them reads my blog – Hi R – thanks for reading!).  It was an incredible day.

I got home and I crashed.  I’m still not sure how I can be so tired when I didn’t walk the 5K, all I did was stand around and jabber at some folks.  But man it wiped me out.

Tomorrow…tomorrow is a special day. You’ll have to come back to read the blog to find out why!

Atta Girl

Do you remember back in school, most likely elementary, when you would get a gold star for something you had achieved or done well?  I didn’t get a ton of gold stars, but I’ll admit I’m a gold star junkie.  I love getting praise and approval for my actions.  It’s not because I didn’t get that as a child. And it’s not because I like attention. I think everyone likes getting kudos and praise. I mean why wouldn’t you?

I had a friend recently ask, almost disgustedly, why I was being so vocal and outspoken about my weight loss journey. She admitted that she was slightly mortified by how much I was sharing on my blog on Facebook. (Which made me wonder if I’m over sharing, but I quickly decided I was not.) She also admitted that she’d never, ever put anything that personal out there for the world to judge. 

Her comment got me wondering why I was sharing. There’s a couple of glaringly obvious reasons 1) accountability and 2) I like to share. But it got me wondering if sharing this information played into another little personality quirk I have - being a gold star junkie.

I’m a gold star junkie.

There I’ve said it. Multiple times.

The author of “Happiness Project” book I was reading discusses being a gold star junkie. She explains how she’s totally a gold star junkie and how it works, or sometimes not works, in her life.  Where her expectations have been higher than the praise she’s received from say her husband. Her examples of how she craves praise hit home with me. It’s never in an annoying way, or a “if I don’t get praise I think I suck” way. No for me it’s more that I like to get kudos. I firmly believe the more positive re-enforcement I can get, the better my journey is going to be. Sounds selfish doesn’t it? Maybe it is. And I’m ok with that.  My frame of mine is whatever it takes. The thing is, I can’t do this alone folks. 

After serious contemplation about this, because I don’t want to be a gold star junkie all the time, I’ve decided that the amount of effort I’m putting into myself currently is equal to the amount of praise and “atta girl”s I might get. I’ve done a lot in my life to be proud of, and can usually manage the internal praise and am ok with that. This, though, seems tougher and thus requires more praise.

At the end of the day, I’m not losing weight for praise. That’s just stupid. I’m not changing my lifestyle so that I get kudos from people on Facebook. I’m not sharing my journey to have someone say, “you go girl!” No, I’m sharing it because I hope that it motivates people. I guess I figure if I can do it, then so can you. Yes, I’m pointing at you.

Unrelated to weight loss I did recently get an “atta girl” from work - for work reasons - that made me smile. The “way to go” from an unexpected source always seems to make me even more happy. To know that you are valued and that your work is appreciated by someone you didn’t even know knew you did work here, goes a long way to make me want to work harder and achieve even more.

Mmemorial Day

Oh the long weekend. How I love thee?  As a contractor I only get 2 weeks of vacation a year - which isn't very much - and REALLY isn't very much when you have a 10 day cruise scheduled later in the year that will eat up those two weeks.  So the three day weekends makes me happy.

About a thousand years ago, our little group of friends who all played volleyball headed over to Wenatchee for a volleyball tournament. We camped. If you can believe it.  We drank. Shocking I know. And we played volleyball.  Blueberry and I ended up actually winning our division that year in women's doubles.  I did say it was a lifetime ago right.

Anyhow, the t-shirts we got for registering for the tournament misspelled Memorial Day to be Mmemorial Day. Every sense then, I say MehMemorial Day.

I had a relatively lax weekend.  I spent part of my weekend making really bad decisions about what I put into my mouth that will ultimately end up on the scale and the hips somewhere.  This eating healthy thing is hard work. And while I'm okay with my decisions, I still feel frustrated at how quickly I can, and will, make those rotten decisions. Ugh. Work in Progress. I know. I say it to myself all the time.

Though this time I didn't try to blame anyone else, like Blueberry, for a change. Even though she was the one who MADE me go to the movies yesterday and MADE me get a popcorn (with butter) and MADE me go to the new Buffalo Wing restaurant in the hood and MADE me order a cheeseburger...I didn't blame her once.  Snicker Snicker.

Seriously, while she was with me and while we had a good time at the movies, I am well aware of my decisions and what they cost me.  On the bright side, I did manage to get to the gym Sunday and Monday.  I can't remember if I went Saturday or not.

So this weekend...let's see what did happen.

Last week my kitchen sink faucet broke.  Its a good thing for a couple of reasons.  I hated the faucet that was on there (but be careful for what you wish for) and I didn't have to pay to replace it - well pay money. I paid for it by not having a sink to really use for a couple of days.

Mrs. Landlord and I went to pick out the faucet on Friday. Mr. Landlord would be along later to replace the faucet.  Mrs. Landlord let me pick, within reasonable cost, the faucet I wanted.  I really wanted one of those touch ones but opted to not fork over any of my money and just get a nice stainless steel one with a pull out sprayer. 

Mr. Landlord got there and proceeded to unhook the old faucet. Which sounds easy on the surface. And was easy for about 80% of it. Then we got stuck. And by "we" I mean him.  While Mrs. Landlord and I were "helping" him, we couldn't figure out why the old faucet would not come off the sink.  Mr. Landlord thought he had everything unhooked etc.  So we opted to head to Home Depot and ask the experts.  Armed with more information, we headed home.  Sure enough, there was a rusted c-clap and a very unwilling to move nut.  With the patience of a saint, Mr. Landlord was ultimately able to get the two off.  Then it was dinner time.

Saturday they came back over and Mr. Landlord installed my new faucet.  Blueberry and Princess Lori came over too. We ate tacos. We chatted. We laughed. We made vision boards - well Mrs. Landlord did and Blueberry cut out pieces of paper for hers.  It was a good time.  They all left and I went to do the dishes. No cold water.

I got under the sink and couldn't find the turn on valve for the cold water.  In fact, I could only see one valve and it was on. So I sent Mr. Landlord a note and asked.

Sunday my friends from the North and owners of my favorite two golden retrievers came down to visit. P&S have the two most lovely dogs every.  2yo goldens are full of piss and vinegar, but my word they are beautiful dogs.

This is Oggy. I think.  He's a trouble maker.  He finally settled down, but he was up and about and smelling everything. He knew there was a cat in house, but couldn't quite find him - thankfully, for Pookie's sake. 

This is Rowan. He and Oggy think they're lap dogs.  In fact, at one point of the night, Oggy was laying on the back of my couch. On. The. Back. Hilarious. Rowan's the more "mellow" of the two, but he still has some trouble making abilities in him.

Ahhh the whole family.  The other two non furry ones are my friends P and S. They love their dogs, and spoil them rotten. Which is how it should be.

Yesterday, Blueberry and I went to see Dark Shadows. Johnny Depp saved the movie. It was just ok and without Johnny Depp it would have sucked.

And now today I'm back at work. Trying to make a plan for this week and plan on making good, healthy decisions.  I have upped my work out routine to now be interval training on the elliptical.  My word that kicks my a**, but it's worth it. And when I'm done, I feel good.  That is, after all, what its all about.

Happy Birthday Sparky

Its hard to believe that it's been a year since I drove Sparky home.  I remember the day like it was yesterday.  I had purchased Sparky the week before and she had to be shipped up from Vegas.

That week of waiting was agonizing.  I imagined car accidents with the truck carrying Sparky flipping. I imagined her getting up here and not liking her. But I mean how could I not.  I had seen a photo and what's not to love.

The dealership had her all wiped down and sitting pretty in the show room. It was love at first site.  Immediately she was  named Sparky. 

I drove Sparky home with the top down.  The weather was questionable. A typical Seattle spring day, clouds high in the sky and sun showing through.  As I drove across the bridge to Redmond from Seattle, I knew this was the car for me.

That was 365 days and 8700 miles ago.  (Side note: My last mustang I drove only 3700 miles in a year. You think I like driving Sparky more?).

Happy Birthday Sparky. Here's to another several years!

Hey! You over there!

Since my last post about the true rules, and since finishing the book the Happiness Project, I've been trying very hard to pay attention to happiness. Not only in myself, but all around me. 

I do believe, and always have, that happiness is something we create for ourselves.  We're not always in the mood to be happy, and sometimes forget it does take effort.  And being happy, once you've done it for a while, isn't that hard.

Facebook seems to be a place to witness the unhappy. It might be the time of year, the week, the  month, whatever, but since I've been paying attention to the happiness around me, I've been somewhat surprised at the unhappiness of my friends. 

There are those friends who by and large are happy and were just having a bad day.  I get it. I've been there.  The boss drops a bomb on you and you're forced to stay late. Or you missed a deadline for reasons you can't control, and the boss notices.  Bad days happen. 

Yet I've noticed that some of my friends are consistently putting negative feeling comments in FB.  Do they not have anything happy in their lives? Or have things been so bad that they just can't see happiness?  I wonder about those friends and what I can do to help them. I have noticed that unhappy people don't particularly want help, advice, or guidance from happy people.  So I'm left wondering how I can help make them be a bit more happy? 

What makes me happy? A ton of things make me happy. There isn't enough time in the day some times to think of all of them.  I have been trying to think of three things every day that makes me happy. You wouldn't think it'd be hard, but let me tell you, when you're having a bad day, it's almost impossible. It's like scaling a tall building without any ropes.

Yesterday I had what I call a "I-can't-get-enough-food"day.  I ate my calories, and I was still hungry.  I wish I knew what caused that.  I could. Not. Stop. Eating.  Which of course, bummed me out. I was doing well most the day. I worked out - hard. Sat down on the couch to read and got hungry. Ate dinner. Didn't feel satisfied so ate some more.

You know low calorie snacks are good and help keep your calories on track - except when you eat several of them.  Princess Lori said to me one day after I mentioned the Nature Valley Thin Crisps are only 80 calories each, she asked, "How many in a box?" I said, "10." Her response, "then that's 800 calories for me. I'd eat the whole box."

And that's what yesterday was like. 

Still I made my list of three things that made me happy yesterday - as I sat discouraged on the couch I came up with one instantly.

1. Food.

I have tried to not duplicate what makes me happy so I really had to think hard. 

Then as if someone upstairs heard me (I think it was Grandma Spaid) I saw out of the corner of my eye Pookie fall off the back cushion of my chair.  In slow motion I saw him slip, then SPLAT on to the ground.  I laughed so hard my sides ached.  I couldn't catch my breath. As he walked around the side of the chair he was all, "I meant to do that." attitude. OMG...that cat!  I got the gut shaking giggles and had to call the MomUnit to report what the cat had done. 

2. Pookie

Still I was at a loss for what my third one for the day could be.  I remembered I had taken photos of the Sunday dinner crowd so decided to check them out.

3. Smores

Sunday dinner I did S'mores for dessert. Dinner was a disaster, thankfully S'mores saved the day.

Can you come up with three things daily that make you happy?

Examine your True Rules

I’m reading this book right now from Gretchen Rubin called The Happiness Project.  In this book Gretchen decides to try to be happy for a year. She puts together a plan with goals for each month and works her way through each one. As she does she discovers how easy, at times, being happy really is.  

The book goes into great detail about her goals and how she attempts to achieve them. Along the way she discovers that some goals aren’t worth keeping up, while others changed her life. 

Towards October in the book (the book is broken into months) she discusses what she calls “True Rules.” Basically mental “rules of thumb”. These are your everyday rules you use to solve problems or to comment away things.  She also says that while we hold them as true they may not be true and may be holding us back from seeing the real truth. We so completely believe our true rule that we don’t pause to consider their validity. 

Now, true rules aren’t always wrong. That’s not her point. Her point is stopping to consider if they are true or that you’ve just deemed it so. And should you continue to live your life by following them.  

She lists a few true rules as well as some from her friends.  I found many of them were also on my list as well. It took me a couple of days to come up with my list, and I find, even today, that I’ll spout something off and think, ”That’s a true rule of mine.”

1.     What would my mother do?

2.     Always smile and say hello.

3.     Change is challenging and good.

4.     Always plan then execute.

5.     Plans don't always work out. Be flexible.

6.     Choose the bigger life.

7.     Things have a way of turning out for the best.

8.     Get some exercise every day. (This is obviously a new one for me.)

9.     I know as much as most people.

10.  Listen first, then comment.

 What are your true rules?

Lipstick and other such fancy stuff

The sun was out in Seattle this weekend.  You know what that means right? It means every one and their dog was on the road and out and about doing something. My weekend was entirely too exhausting and now I need some rest.  Besides losing my 20th lb, which was exhausting and exciting on so many levels, here's what else took place in the life of Jenn.

My back deck was green. Not from paint or anything fancy like that, but from moss. Seattle buildings, cars and people, tend to have this green slimy mossy covering on them.  If you let it go it can be a beast to get rid of.  I had let the deck go for long enough.  Plus, the sun was high in the sky and it was HOT (well for Seattle) what better time to clean the moss off. The deck looks good now. It still needs another good scrubbing, but it'll do for now.

The cob webs were getting out of control too. I'm pretty sure, if it were possible, I could weave the cob webs that I dusted or swept up into a nice dress for myself.  There were THAT many.  Now Redmond has a few displaced spiders who's homes have been destroyed.

The laundry mound is now nothing but an empty basket.  Not only did I do TONS of laundry, but I actually folded it and put it away.  What a concept, I know.  It was odd to get dressed in my room today and not sneak downstairs and get dressed in the downstairs bathroom.  It was way more efficient too, I might have to start working on doing this every week. 

Because it was so nice this weekend, all the windows in the house were open.  By opening them, I was able to see all the gunk, dirt, and dead bugs on the windowsills.  They all got a good wipe down too. I don't think I got them all, but most of them are at least clean for now.

Sparky and I took to the streets to meet the Landlords for dinner on Saturday night.  We drove 15 miles out of our way to get to dinner.  It was sunny, remember?  We ate at this dive-ish bar in downtown Bellevue called The Spot on Main.  Not a large menu, and my meal was gross.  The waitress - who had seen better days and was using makeup to hide the weathered life she had - informed us that there was no chef and the wait staff was fixing the meals.  Oh boy.  I ordered a burger and figured, how hard could that be? Apparently difficult.  It was gross.  I ate it, but it was gross.

I had to have Breakfast with the Pantry Goat too.  It was another glorious day so I drove out to West Seattle to pick her up. We weren't sure where we were going to go, but we headed into Seattle. She suggested Pike Place Market for breakfast.  My inclination was, "Are you kidding? Pike Place on a sunny Sunday that happens to be Mother's day?"  The hoards of people I knew we'd be fighting just didn't seem appetizing.  Still, I stuffed that thought away and decided to go with the flow.  We found parking that required us to do some exercise to get to the market, so at least I'd be working off the breakfast I was about to have.

We settled on the Athenian.  Turns out this was the restaurant Tom Hanks and Rob Reiner sat in in a scene from Sleepless in Seattle.  In fact the stools they sat on have plaques indicating as much.

I didn't even realize this restaurant was here. I've walked past it a hundred times and never noticed.  It's an old structure that had some great views from upstairs.  Decent food, but nothing WOW'ing about it. 

After dumping the goat off at her waterfront villa, I headed home. I wanted to put another good scrubbing on the deck and get some more stuff done around the house.  Blueberry and her brother came by and got his stuff I'd been storing in my garage out. Well, most of it.  In the process, Blueberry was moving a mirror then started to drop it and in her attempt to not drop the mirror and break it incurring 7 years of bad luck, she chose to fall to the ground and catch it. In doing so, she tagged the back end of Sparky and gave Sparky a little ding.  She, apparently, thought my wrath was better than 7 years bad luck from the mirror. I let her live, but barely.

Okay so it's just a small scratch.

The Pantry Goat needed more food so she came over for a proper burger last night.  My burger itch hadn't been scratch on Saturday so I needed something to get me through the week.  Surprisingly, with all the crap I at this weekend I managed to not gain an ounce back. Woot.

Lastly, I cleaned out my bathroom drawers last night. I don't have much in my drawers and found the bottom drawer almost completely empty.  But I did find some lipsticks I hadn't worn in forever. Some time ago I stopped wearing lipsticks. Not sure why, but I remembered at my friend Lourdes' Celebration of Life her sisters talking about how Lourdes said to always have "lips" on cuz you never know who you'll meet.  I decided last night to start wearing lips again.  Thanks Lourdes for the reminder.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to figure out how to take a nap today AND work at the same time.

Goal #1 accomplished: 20 lbs LOST

5 months ago, I weighed 273 lbs. 

Gulp.

That’s really hard to type and put out there. But there it is.

Two hundred and seventy three pounds!

It was after my annual Tucson Christmas trip that got me thinking. Plane rides had become increasingly uncomfortable for me. I never know just how small the seats are going to be and whether I will “comfortably” fit into them.  This trip my fears came true. Not only were the seats smaller (at least they felt smaller) but this time I had to ask for a seat belt extender. I was officially mortified.

When I returned home from Christmas I decided it was time.  So I took my first step. I stepped onto the scale.

As I stood on a scale in my bathroom, I saw the number. 273 lbs. I knew I had to get into shape. I had to make myself healthy. Although, getting into shape and getting healthy for me at that moment meant a massive life overhaul.

I felt lost, and scared, and fat. 

I was at the crossroads of being almost 300lbs and choosing to live a healthy life.  This change would be hard. I had lost that ability to say to myself, “yeah I’m big, but I’m not going to ever be that big.” I was teetering on the edge of being “that big.”

From as far back as I can remember I was overweight.  Bigger, than chubby, if you will. My weight gradually rose from birth through the college years, through the 20’s, 30’s and so on. It has always defined who I thought I was and more importantly how I felt others saw me. 

Being fat was all I knew.

As I stepped off the scale, I didn’t have to ask myself how I had got there. I knew.  At first, my mind went to the obvious- the food. I loved food. The pastas, the meats, the breads, the pizzas, the chips, the fast food, all of it. Then my mind went to the genes- we’re big people.  I played the blame game for a bit. It was easier to blame my family genes than to take accountability.  

I knew the truth, though. 

I didn’t become obese (God I hate that word) because I loved food or because my family was big. I became obese because I was making all the horrible food choices, for all the right reasons. Over the years I trained myself to use food to supplement my life and my emotions. I loved food and food loved me. When I was feeling insecure or anxious, I could control the food- the kind and the amount. When I felt nervous, food reassured me. When I was anxious food soothed me. When I was sad, food lifted me up. For every.single.emotion I could turn to food and food would love me back.

At 43 years old, though, food didn’t love me anymore. My dependency on it needed to come to an end. Desire to change on that cold day in January standing on the scale, is what brought me to make the decision to change. It brought me to the Redmond Athletic club. It brought me to Jenny Craig. It brought me to the realization that I can make the right choices about my health and my diet.

What’s been helpful for me, I think, is living one day at a time. I try not to look at the big picture, the many, MANY pounds to be lost that are looming over me. With 100+ pounds to go before I reached the finish line of weight loss and good health, it was very easy to become discouraged. I just try to get through the day feeling my best and knowing that I just kicked [insert the day] in the pants. There have been times when I think, “Oh my God, I can’t eat another Jenny Craig meal and not have Dorito’s ever again.” But then I asked myself, “Can you do it today, Jenn? Just today?” The answer was easy. Yes. Yes I could.

Eventually I’ll arrive at my goal weight – whatever that weight is. My journey to that point will likely be at once the most agonizing and gratifying experience of my life. And being smaller, almost half my size, will be terrifying. How do you maintain a weight you’ve never known? How do you live moderately? What is normalcy? The answers to these questions are a mystery to me. I have no frame of reference for my new body because I only knew two modes: overeating and dieting. Learning to maintain my weight will be as hard as losing it. But that story will have to wait. 

Lastly I wanted to thank everyone that’s been cheering me on.  I don’t tell you every day, but your up-lifting and kind words do keep me going.  I keep them in a folder in my email so on the days I’m feeling discouraged, I can pull them out and feel your strength.  At the end of all this, we’ll celebrate. With low-cal food choices of course.

No Matter What They Say – it Ain’t EASY!

Recently I had a discussion with a friend who’s trying to lose weight about a “get skinny quick” diet she tried and failed at.  She was a bit discouraged that this new diet promised instant results and said it was so easy you didn’t have to change your eating habits.

It got me thinking about the diet industry.  In general, it’s mostly a lie.  If you flip through any magazine in the grocery store line, you’re almost guaranteed to see some ads for losing 10 lbs within a week. Or you’ll see words like “easy”, “fast” and “simple”.

Here’s the truth, it ain’t easy.  There is nothing easy about losing weight.

Because here is weight loss in a nutshell: eat less and move more!

Period.

I read recently on a blog a method that the writer was using to lose weight. She had lost 135 lbs and has kept it off so I figured she knows what she’s talking about.  Her basic theory is find a calorie range that you can eat daily and that doesn’t make you suffer with hunger pangs and allows that you are consuming less that you are burning just by living and exercise.  She recommends finding your BMR and working toward a healthy number.  I searched Google and found a couple sites that you just type your numbers in and it’ll tell you. Beware though, it’s scary.

She goes on to do a math calculation that makes a ton of sense to me. Once you’ve figured out your BMR based on your current daily activity “consider eating 250 calories less than that per day. If you also try to burn an additional 250 calories through exercise each day, you will be eating at a deficit of 500 calories daily- this kind of deficit leads to 1 pound of weight loss in a week’s time (1lb= 3500 calories, so 7 days of burning 500 calories creates 1lb of loss).”

Did you see that? A light bulb went off over my head.

Eating less is only one part of the equation of course. Moving more is a big part of the whole plan.  Finding something you enjoy doing for an exercise and do it.  Do it more!  Do it consistently and do it more often. 

This, friends, is straightforward. Tried and true.

Ignore the magazines.  Ignore the hype they promise.  It is not easy. Weight loss will never be “easy”, “simple”, or “fast”.  You will never be able to “indulge” the way they promise.  If you want it, you will have to put in some serious effort. And sometimes all that effort doesn’t pay off the way you expect it should.  But don’t be discouraged.  Just by making that little step to eat less and move more, you’re already doing something great.



I can only speak about my own weight loss, because, let’s face it, it’ll be different for each of us. Our amount to lose, our age and our environment will dictate the weight loss journey being different.  When I started this journey in January I was motivated by health and a little by fear.  I was afraid my health would decline increasingly and I’d eventually be poking myself every day with a needle full of insulin.  I was also fearful that if I didn’t make a change I’d be 300lbs in a matter of months.  I’d just continue to get bigger and bigger until bigger eclipsed biggest – I couldn’t risk getting to that point. I had to make a change. I really had no choice – it had to happen.

My first month I was extremely motivated and enthusiastic.  Everything was a challenge and every one of them I embraced and tackled without hesitation.  I wanted this … badly. 

Focused, determined, eyes narrowed, head down, I went for it. I didn’t pause to really think about the long road ahead. I had a goal – 20lbs by March 31^st.  I could surely make it.

What I didn’t expect was how hard it would be? 10 years ago losing weight was way easier.  In my 40’s losing weight is more of a challenge.  My first weeks I saw weight loss that I wasn’t necessarily happy with. I expected bigger numbers each week. But I didn’t let it deter me.  I made the connection that I was older and anything that was increasing my weight was progress to me.

But then, after I’d been at it for a while, I started to slow. In progress, in patience. The vigilance, the exercise- they wore on me. Newness evaporated and I began to feel bored with the whole process. I shuddered when reality reminded me , “Um, well gosh, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but… you’re going to have to keep at this for another 12-18 months. Give or take forever.”

What happened next, just after I silently called myself a quitter, a loser, all manner of bad names, was a simple enough thought:

Oh, it’s just going to suck for a while.

Yes, that. Just that. A heady dose of reality.

It was a revelation. Because for once, I realized that weight loss wouldn’t be like taking up running as a new hobby, and it certainly wouldn’t come with a map or course directions. It would be like a marathon, where miles 10-20 just purely, uncompromisingly suck.

Once I said this to myself, everything seemed clearer.  I recognized the distance, the real strength that I’d have to maintain. I recognized that I probably wouldn’t like it. But I knew, that at the end of the journey it will have been all worth it.

I’ve allowed myself “free” days and know the reality is that my social life revolves around food.  I don’t find anything wrong with that, and it will most likely continue to be that way.  There have been times, dozens upon dozens, when I wanted a bag of Doritos. When I wanted to sit on my couch and eat and eat and eat to my favorite TV shows. When I didn’t want anything to do with willpower or her cousin moderation. When I didn’t want one scoop of ice cream when I knew Ben & Jerry offered pints.

There’s just no denying the hard parts. The 4:30pms when you’re midway between lunch and dinner and no amount of fruit will ever satisfy like bag of chips. The afternoons when you’re setting the pace on the elliptical and your legs feel leaden. The look of the small portion on your dinner plate – and wanting to maybe make two dinners. The times in the coffee shop that you smell a just-baked muffin and you sigh realizing, unfortunately, that you can’t eat three, hot, with butter. The times when sheet cake is splayed in front of you and you know that ‘just a sliver’ won’t cut it.

These are the minutes, the hours, when I need to brace myself and just ride it out. Because, really- how you act when times are just peachy is nothing compared to how you act when times are rotten. The peachy times don’t say as much, anyway, about your strength or your determination. These moments where you feel your weakest, when you’re absolutely certain that you’d rather give up than keep going- they’re going to come.

Perhaps if all who wrote about health and weight loss acknowledged that it would be hard as hell, we’d have a more realistic approach. We wouldn’t sprint out of the gate because we’d not want to run out of steam midway. We wouldn’t swear off food groups because we’d realize that life feels less full when we take things away.

I wonder if we went into the journey knowing the side effects, the hardships and hurdles- if we wouldn’t feel a bit more prepared. More apprehensive, maybe, but prepared. I wonder if we’d be kinder to ourselves and others, knowing that it’s difficult, it’s long, and it can feel unforgiving.

If it were ever easy, we’d be there by now. We wouldn’t start and stop and start again. We’d be content and living on easy street.

If there was no struggle, no strain, we wouldn’t feel so accomplished at the end. We couldn’t be so proud. It’d feel less special. So there’s merit to pointing out the hard parts. Weight loss will come with equal parts struggle and strength. And each will change along the way. You’ll know that it doesn’t stay hard forever. You’ll also know to buckle down when those hard parts come, sure that relief always follows. You’ll know that I felt it too, and that it gets better.

I have .8lbs to my first goal.  I’m so close and so determined this week to push through this .8lbs.  I’ll celebrate slightly this weekend, and Monday morning I’ll start my second 20lbs goal.