Let's get real....

I have not been faithful in keeping up with this blog, but I do have news to report… both good and bad.  Bad news first, cause that always sucks.  I got on the scale this morning (shaking my damn head at myself.  I know better…) and I am officially up 10 pounds.  Now, because I know more about myself and my weight, now more than ever before – I know that is this NOT 10 pounds of fat.  It’s 10 pounds of beer, and sodium, and water weight, and *maybe* even some muscle.  But, the scale is moving the wrong way, and the inches aren’t moving where I want them too.   It has really been a struggle to get back into a routine after my Migraine hiatus.  

After it was all said and done, I had about 8 weeks where I was not working out or eating properly, and I am sure that this has contributed to that ghastly number I saw on the scale this morning.  But, I did what any rational, health obsessed person would do, and I took my measurements.  While they were not where I wanted them to be, they were where I expected them to be.  Over the last few weeks I have been getting better.  I have been hitting the gym.  I have been doing my C25K.  I have been lifting, but I have not been following the NROLFW program the way I was before.  I have just being doing squats and deadlifts and, well, the exercises I LIKED doing.  I have been getting back to eating right, but I am not perfect.  I have slipped more often than not, and this hot weather, and cold beer, and family and neighborhood BBQ’s have made it hard to stay on track.  

Now, when I get into a position like this, I usually hit the internet for inspiration.  I look at MFP and the success stories.  I look at what other programs I could be doing that would produce greater results.  I go to Pintrest and find motivational quotes and pictures… which I have been doing.  But I am feeling inspired today – without the help of digitally enhanced photos, promises of miracle drugs, and homemade body wraps.  Really, you want me to rub what on my belly, and then wrap myself in saran-wrap?!?!  Sorry, but the chapter of my life that included saran-wrap dresses is closed.  That was college, and I was drunk and don’t remember it anyway.  ;) My inspiration came a little closer to home – so to speak.  One person that I look at all the time is my friend Tiffany, from MFP (OnWisconsin84).  She is outspoken, and foul-mouthed, just like me, and she is a TRUE inspiration.  This woman has lost 110 pounds – and did it the right way.  And now, this bitch has abs to DIE for, guns like you wouldn’t believe, and rocks the shit out of a Mohawk.  She still struggles every day.  She LOVES beer, and has mental arguments with herself over Fruity Pebbles.  Sometimes she caves – but she makes it work.  And if she has a bad weekend, it doesn’t send her into a blind eating binge.  She forgets it, and gets back to work.  Back to normal.  

The other driving force in me today is my friend Crystal.  This girl – OMG, I love her.  A little background first;  Crystal sent me a text a while ago (many months ago) and asked me for some advice.  She wanted to start losing weight, and working out, and asked me what I had been doing.  We talked for a LONG time that day, and I told her everything I could think of – starting off with a little piece of wisdom my Heather gave me.  Jillian Michaels – 30 Day Shred.  Crystal lives in Wisconsin, so I really don’t see her or talk to her all that often (She was Heather’s roommate in college, and I met Crystal through Heather).  Last week, she posted some new pictures on FB – and she looked PHENOMENAL.  On Sunday, Heather called to check in.  We did a quick rundown of what had been going on in both our lives.  And I mean QUICK.  She was hung over and sick, and on her way home from an over-night camping trip to see the DMB.  *Jealous*.  So towards the end of the conversation, we started talking about Crystal.  Heather tells me that Crystal has officially met her 50 pounds lost mark!  50 POUNDS!!!  Now this chick – ugh.  If only I had her will power.  She goes to the gym TWICE a day, and packs her own salad to go to a BBQ.  Who does that?  It’s frickin incredible is what that is.   These two women are REAL.  They have good days and bad days.  Tiffany reminds me that it’s okay to have a bowl of Fruity Pebbles once in a while, and that Orange Leaf ice cream may or may not be the devil, but she’s gonna eat it anyway.  And still look FAN-DAMN-TASTIC.  Crystal reminds me that I still have a long way to go – and maybe packing your own salad for a BBQ isn’t such a bad idea.  She works her ass off, and it is paying off in a big (50 POUNDS!!!) way.  

I knew that I had been eating cleaner, and working out more – so the scale confused me this morning.  Instead of diving head first into a plate of Oh-SO-Delicious McDonalds breakfast – I made my protein shake, and went to work.  I figured out that I had not recalculated my BMR or TDEE since the beginning.  Because of my loss (even with the 10 pound gain recorded by the demonic electronic device in my bathroom), my BMR was off by over 300 calories!  Which is GOOD news.  Number one, I have lost enough weight for my body to not need as many calories just to function.  It also explains why I might be gaining a pound or two.  Because of the change in BMR – I wasn’t eating at a deficit.   I have reset my goals on MFP to show the right number of calories I should be eating. 

I have got my plan of action in place.  My iPod is charged, and my headphones are ready.  I have a twitch in my foot because I know I am going to have to wait about 12 hours before I can get home, change and get to the gym to work out.  I know that MY program with produce faster results, if I just stick to it.  It’s time to tighten it up, and get to work.  I realize that this is all part of my journey.  I am learning all the time.  If something isn’t working, it doesn’t mean it’s broken.  Maybe it needs an adjustment, like the idle on a carburetor , or a recharge of the batteries.  In my case, it was both.  The rest period is over.  My batteries are fully charged.  The adjustments to my diet have been made.  Now it’s time to get to work.  131 days until we set sail.  131 days until I will be in the best shape of my life.  

And I can’t wait.  THAT’s real. 

Workout Barbie

My last few days at the Gym have been inspiring.  I NEVER thought I would feel this way.  And it feels GOOD. 

So let’s sum up the last few weeks, before we get to Never Never Land.  I took myself off of all of those crazy medications every doctor and their mother had put me on.  I still take the Beta Blocker (the heart medication), my B2 vitamin, and a Women’s One Daily.  No more Excedrin.  No more pain medication.  And guess what?  No more headaches!  The last headache that was serious enough to put in my headache diary was June 19^th.  That’s 17 days headache FREE.  It took me a while to get back into the swing of things.  I started running at home, although, not much.  I had enough excuses.  It was too hot out.  I’ll do it after the sun goes down.  Eh, I went swimming today – that should be enough.  Then the other day, a light came on in my head.  I am paying a gym membership.  They have treadmills there.  In the air conditioning.  And they have weights.  And DING!  Off to the races I went.  I actually wore shorts, which if you know me, is QUITE an accomplishment in itself.  I cut some sleeves off of an old tee, and made a “lucky” workout tank (It has a shamrock, and the work HOOLIGAN on it). 

Welcome to Never Never Land. 

I walk into the gym, water, weight lifting log, and iPod in hand.  The tanning bed happened to be open, so I went in there first.  Then, It was time for a run.  I started up my C25K app, turned on my favorite running playlist, and hit the pavement.  Or moving belt.  Whatever.  I am on, I don’t know, my 3^rd circuit or so, when she walks in.  Workout Barbie has arrived.  To me, it’s more entertaining to people watch, than to stare at the TV.  No Mr. Trainer, I don’t want the damn remote.  GO AWAY.  So, any-hoo… she makes a lap around the perimeter of the gym, checking to see who’s there.  She finally ends up on an Elliptical machine right in front of me.  I swear, she could not have been on it 5 minutes when that portion of her workout was over.  She dabs the non-existent sweat off her forehead, and heads to find a Swiss Ball.  She starts doing crunches.  Everything she is wearing, from her cute little head band down to her shoelaces matched.  Her hair is perfect.  There is not a smudge in her putty knife applied makeup.  And I think of myself.  I washed my face before I got here.  When I sweat, I sweat.  And my makeup runs.  And my eyeliner ends up halfway down my cheeks, and I end up looking like Gothopotamus.  My red hair is probably frizzy and standing straight up by now.  I am wearing a cut off T-shirt I made at home 45 minutes ago.  I do not look anything like this girl.  And that old familiar pang starts to hit my stomach. 

I wish I was skinnier.  I wish I had a body like hers.  I wish I could come here, and not do any work, and look like that.  I always hated Barbies.  When I was a kid, I used to color her face with markers, and cut all her hair off.  My childhood hatred came rushing back, and I had a brief fantasy about cutting all of this chick’s hair off, and wondered if she would still come to the gym then.  I am interrupted from my lovely daydream by a chime in my ear.  Damnnit!  C25K, week 1, workout 1, Completed.  Moving on….

I grab my weightlifting log, gather all of my necessary weights, and head towards the squat rack.  Workout Barbie has made way to a few other machines, but I haven’t seen her do anything but sit on them, and clean them.  Can’t look at her.  Gotta focus.  Damn this shit is heavy!  I am doing my squats first.  I think briefly about giving up after 2 reps.  My inner Goddess screams at me!!  NOOOOOOOOOO!  Only a few more.  3…2….1…. Are you shitting me?  I just did an entire set of squats with perfect form, at 105 pounds!!!  I am now doing a primal victory scream in my head, as I hold Barbie’s hair above my head like some Indian that just scalped the enemy.  Good stuff.  Next!!!

As I am taking my last 60 second break and chugging water like it’s my job, I see her again.  She is kneeling on a bench, watching herself in the mirror.  She is doing Tricep Kickbacks.  Using her outfit/headband/shoestring matching 3 pound pink Barbie weights.  She is a machine!  I bet she does 100 reps.  She sets her toys – I mean, weights – down, and exhales a long, hard breath.  She again wipes the non-existent sweat off of her forehead.  She fixes the stray hair she sees in the mirror.  Then she does it.  She puts both of her arms up, and flexes.  She is admiring all of her hard work.  Satisfied, she wipes down the bench she was just kneeling on, and leaves.  As she walks by me, she gives me this look.  The look was disdain.  I could see her size me up, and I felt like I could read the thoughts in her head.  It’s the way every skinny girl looks at the fat girl in high school.  I was right back there at the Prom, crying in the bathroom while the other girls posed for pictures and danced with their dates.  The memory is heavy.  Oops.  Nope.  It’s the weight that’s heavy.  I focus, and finish my last set.

It doesn’t hit me until I am in the car.  I light my cigarette, and roll the windows down.  I momentarily catch my reflection in my rearview mirror.  UGH.  The person looking back at me is DISGUSTING.  Her hair is SOAKING wet.  There are actually droplets of sweat, just hanging there, waiting for the weight to build up enough to fall.  Her face is so red she looks like she spent about 3 days too long in the tanning bed.  Her shirt is wet, and honestly, kind of smelly.  A mile down the road, I glance back up, and see sweat still rolling down my face.  I can feel it on my neck, and running down my back.  In that second, I saw her.  I saw the goddess that was yelling at me earlier.  And she looked just like me.  Not future me.  Not skinnier me.  Not a Workout Barbie version of me.  It was just, ME.  In the next second I flash back to my earlier thoughts of Barbie on the elliptical and being so envious of her.  And I think momentarily – someday, she will be that envious of ME.

I get home, and go to take a freezing cold shower.  I strip, and again, look at my reflection in the mirror.  I hesitate, but finally decide to do it.  I lift my arms up, and flex in the mirror just like Barbie did.  My jaw drops in shock.  My arms look better than hers!  I go to a different angle, because I think my eyes are playing tricks on me.  No!  Seriously!  And here comes the primal war cry of scalping Barbie. 

This morning was a repeat of Tuesday.  I’m working my ass off when Barbie (a different one, a brunette) comes strolling in.  She also has cute little colored weights.  They might be 5 pounds.  MIGHT.  She’s doing bicep curls.  And lots of them.  Then the exercise bike as she reads a magazine.  I am deadlifting what I can fairly estimate is her body weight.  I finish, and hit the locker room to shower and get ready for work.  She is touching up her hair and makeup as I haphazardly get dressed.  I worked out too long.  I’m gonna be late.  I hit the highway and about halfway down 75, she’s there looking back at me.  My inner goddess is holding a brown ponytail in her hand. 

Welcome to Never Never Land.  Where I, the Fat Girl can look at Barbie and say – I might weigh twice as much as you do, but my arms look better than yours, and I can deadlift, well, YOU.  For the very first time in my life, I felt prettier than Barbie. 

Oh, and on another note, somehow, while drinking 5 beers yesterday at a cookout, I went over on protein, and was under on everything else!  And I actually ATE all damn day long!   

Holding my scalps high above my head!!!

The Fat Girl

The Fighter...

This was such an inspiration to me today.  I have been really down lately, as all of you know.  I can relate to a lot of these lyrics, and this was just what I needed to hear today.  I have posted the lyrics below for those who are curious, or you can just watch the video... 

Give 'em hell.

<3 - The Fat Girl




Just wakin up in the morning
And the beat well
Quite honest with ya,
I ain't really sleep well
Ya ever feel like your train a thoughts been derailed?
That's when you press on. Lee nails.

Half the population's just waitin to see me fail
Yeah right, you're better off tryina freeze hell
Some of us do it for the females
And others do it for the retails

But I do it for the kids, life through the tower head on
Everytime you fall its only making your chin strong
And I'll be in your corner like Mick baby, til the end
Or when you hear the song from that big lady

Bridge:
Until the referee rings the bell
Until both your eyes start to swell
Until the crowd goes home
What we gonna do ya'll?

Chorus (Ryan Tedder):
Give em hell, turn their heads
Gonna live life til we're dead.
Give me scars, give me pain
Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me
There goes a fighter, there goes a fighter
Here comes a fighter
That's what they'll say to me, say to me
Say to me, this one's a fighter

Verse 2:
And if I can last thirty rounds
There's no reason you should ever have your head down
Six foot five, two hundred and twenty pounds
Hailing from rock bottom, loserville, nothing town
Text book version of the kid going nowhere fast
(From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/g/gym-class-heroes-lyrics/the-fighter-lyrics.html)
And now im yelling kiss my ass,
it's gonna take a couple right hooks a few left jabs
for you to recognize that you really aint got it bad

Bridge:
Until the referee rings the bell
Until both your eyes start to swell
Until the crowd goes home
What we gonna do ya'll?

Chorus (Ryan Tedder):
Give em hell, turn their heads
Gonna live life til we're dead.
Give me scars, give me pain
Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me
There goes a fighter, there goes a fighter
Here comes a fighter
That's what they'll say to me, say to me
Say to me, this one's a fighter

Everybody put yo hands up
What we gonna do? (x7) ya'll

If you fall pick yourself up off the floor (get up)
And when your bones can't take no more
Just remember what you're here for
Cuz I know imma damn sure

Give em hell, turn their heads
Gonna live life til we're dead.
Give me scars, give me pain
Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me
There goes a fighter, there goes a fighter
Here comes a fighter
That's what they'll say to me, say to me
Say to me, this one's a fighter

Till the referee rings the bell
Till both ya eyes start to swell
Till the crowd goes home,
What we gonna do kid?

A Moment of Clarity

I woke up with an attitude today. 

It’s probably due to the lack of sleep last night.  I laid awake most of the night, fighting yet another migraine.  The pain was too intense to sleep.  I was already too far gone to take my actual migraine medicine.  It was too late to take pain medicine – I’d never be able to drive to work in the morning.  I replayed the weekend over and over in my head.  Having to leave Madie’s game early.  Having to sleep while we had Nate.  Missing my Uncle’s Surprise Birthday party.  Having to leave my in-laws early.  Not being able to go shopping.  Having to skip meals because I am nauseous.  Having to spend the only time I have seen my family in 6 months with my ears and eyes covered on the couch.  Matt told me this weekend that he has felt like a Single Dad the last month and a half.  And he’s right.  I have not been there for him, or for our family.  I have been paralyzed by whatever is going on in my head. 

Last night, my dad asked me how I was doing, and if the doctors were going to be able to fix me.  I sighed, and said “I guess so”.  He told me I didn’t sound very confident about that.  He was right.  I’m not confident.  In any of the doctors, or what they are telling me to do.  No one agrees on anything.  They don’t agree on the cause, they don’t agree on medications, and they don’t agree on a treatment plan.  So who am I supposed to listen to?  My family doctor that has no clue about anything?  Yeah, no.  I don’t think so.  The Chiropractor that says massaging my neck and cracking my back will do the trick?  I don’t know.  I saw the x-rays myself, and they do look pretty bad, but what in the hell do I know?  I do know it’s expensive.  $55 dollars a visit, 3 times a week.  For 6 weeks.  That’s $1000 I don’t have.  The neurologist wants me to have an MRI and an MRV done.  Those are two really expensive tests.  Do I really even need them?  I mean, my CT came back clear.  If there was something wrong, wouldn’t it have showed up on the CT scan?  Why do I need two more tests? 

So my mind started wandering off.  (I am going to write this next part the way my mind actually processed all of this last night…) Thinking.  Obsessing.  Wishing I had worked harder in school, so maybe I would have been a doctor, and I could diagnose myself.  I should have finished school anyway.  Damnnit.  But I’m not a doctor.  I’m just me.  And I want to be the old me.  I want to be the me I was a few months ago.  Driven.  Determined.  A good mom.  A fandamntastic wife that my hubby bragged about to his friends.  I’m not, and wasn’t perfect, by any means.  I like cleaning, but I hate cleaning, and having the house wrecked by everyone else, and everyone else waiting for me to clean up.  Then I show them by putting my foot down, and refusing to clean.  Eventually, someone will get sick of the mess and clean up, right?  Nope, that always backfires, and I end up having a whole mess of a house to clean.  I do despise doing laundry.  I HATE it.  And no one else will do it.  So it piles up, and laundry usually gets done when someone says, Um, I don’t have any clean shirts to wear.  I would rather spend my time with my family.  Playing outside.  Chit-chatting with our neighbors.  Gossiping with Matt’s mom.  Going to the gym.  Running with my dogs.  Living my hectic crazy life.    

I know I’m not perfect.  I’m not the perfect wife.  I’m not the perfect (step)mom.  I’m not the perfect employee, or friend, or maid or daughter or sister or anything.  And I am certainly NOT the perfect patient.  But things were pretty good before all this started – not that things are bad now.  I just feel absent in my own life.  What has changed so much between then, and now?

Well, let’s see here.  Before.  Before – I would get up at 5:00am, go to work, come home, workout, go get the kids, make dinner, go to practices or play outside, try to get the house straightened up, or some laundry done, get the kids to bed, spend some time with Matt, watch some tv, and be in bed by 12.  Sleep for 5 hours, rinse  and repeat.  Okay, maybe not enough sleep, but I was exercising every day, eating healthy at least 3 times every day, and still getting “life” things accomplished.  Weed the flower bed, take Madie to soccer, Nate to baseball, dogs to the vet, sweep the floor, fold the clothes that have been in the dryer for 3 days, etc.  I had a LIFE!!!

Now.  Now – I get up at 5, lay very still in my bed and wait to see if my head hurts.  I go to work, wear sunglasses most of the day, and I am still usually sick by lunch at the latest.  I dread my 50 minute drive home looking straight into the sun the whole way.  Then, depending on the day, I either go to an appointment, or go home.  Either way, by the time I get home, I am so sick – all I can do is take my medicines and lay down.  I sleep, usually until about 8 or so.  I get up, try to spend some time with the kids before they go to bed at 9.  By then it’s getting dark outside, the medicine has kicked in, and the symptoms have eased up a bit.  I will do a load of laundry, or try to clean my kitchen, or help Matt with our pool, eat something for the first time all day, and go to bed. 

So what’s the difference? Before I was active – at the time I thought I was lazy – but I see now I was ACTIVE as hell.  At least compared to my life now.  Okay – so I was active.  I ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, a snack or two – all healthy food.  Okay, for the most part.  Whatever.  I wasn’t on any kind of medication.  Just the pill.  Now, I sleep, take medicine, work, take more medicine, sleep more, and have a fucked up diet. 

Now, my non-doctor, I only finished half of college education tells me that there is a pattern here…  I was living a healthier lifestyle a month ago when everything was just fine.  I was active, and I was eating and sleeping normally.  Now, I am eating like shit, sleeping too much, and taking whatever poison a white coat with a rx pad gives me.  And I feel like shit.  ALL.  THE.  TIME. 

Now, maybe this is the drugs talking, or all the sleeping has messed with my head, but I have come to a conclusion. 

Fuck the doctors.  I’m not going back.   At least not for a week or two.  No more medicine.  No more visits.  No more MRIs or MRVs or blahblahblahs.  Let’s just give all the bullshit a break, and try to get back to being me.  I am giving my old routine a try.  I am going to force myself to eat, and eat healthful foods.  I am going to give the sunglasses a break at work, and see if my eyes can get used to the light again.  I am going to relieve some of this god-damnned stress and go for a run.  With my dogs.  I am going to come home tonight and cook and clean for my family.  I am going to swim in my pool with my kids and put them to bed exhausted tonight.  I am going to give my hubby some attention that is long overdue.  And then sink exhausted into my own bed, and do it again tomorrow.  And the day after that.  And the day after that.  And I am going to give my body some time to adjust to being the “old” me.  And if it doesn’t work, and I still have migraines in a week or two – then guess what?  I am no worse off than I am right now.  I will take my vitamins, and I will take my heart medication.  But the rest is being put away for a while.  I have put my life in their hands for long enough, and the only thing that has changed is the amount due in my medical bill file. 

It’s time to do me. 

And amazingly, the second I came to this conclusion, I fell immediately asleep.  I woke up rested, and refreshed, and fingers crossed – I have not had a headache today.  NOT EVEN A HEADACHE!!!  Not ONE migraine symptom.  I ate breakfast, and cancelled my doctor’s appointment.    

Today, my fellow fatties, is Day ONE of NOT having a Migraine.  J

Le Sigh...

I am so depressed.  No, frustrated.  No – Fuck.  I don’t know what the hell I am.  I just know it’s now how I want to be.  It’s not how I want to feel.  I don’t feel like myself, and it gets just a bit worse every day. 

This last month and a half has taken such a toll on me, mentally, emotionally and physically.  I have been having daily headaches since May 3^rd.  44 damned days.  Most days – it’s a full on Migraine, where I cannot function.  I literally get home from work, crawl into the cave I call my bedroom, and hide there until dark.  When I am conscious at home, I have to wear earplugs and sunglasses to keep the sounds and lights at bay.  When I do feel good - I work so hard to catch up on everything else, that I work myself back into another headache.  I am not 100% at work.  I am not 100% at home.  Hell, I don’t think I am even 50% at home.  I am missing soccer and baseball games with my kids.  I am missing quality time with my love.  I am missing working in my yard, and cleaning my house, and swimming with my kids.  I am missing out on a normal life.  I feel useless.  I feel worthless.  I am irritable ALL THE DAMN TIME.  I am going to be lucky if I’m not single by the end of this. 

I have been to my family doctor multiple times.  I have been going to the chiropractor.  I went to the neurologist yesterday.  They all have a different answer.  I have tried multiple medications.  Some work for a day or two, then we are right back to where we started.  My family doctor is clueless.  They literally told me they didn’t know what else they could do for me, prescribed me medication that I am allergic to, and gave me the wrong date for my neuro referral.  The chiropractor says this is all from a car accident I was in two years ago.  He says I injured my hip, and my spine and neck have been overcompensating ever since, causing pinched nerves, which in turn causes the headaches.  I have gone to my appointments faithfully.  The only change is now I have a migraine, AND my neck hurts.  Now the neuro doc says yesterday that my heart rate is too high, put me on heart medication, has scheduled me for an MRI and MRV to make sure I don’t have a blood clot in my head or neck, and told me I was not allowed to take ANY kind of headache medicine more than 2 days a week.  Not even Excedrin.    Thanks, and I’ll see ya in two months.  Thanks Dr. Chang.  I’ll take my heart medicine.  YOU take an English class. 

I have slipped back into a horrible eating pattern that I have got to get a handle on.  My medicines make me nauseous, so I don’t have an appetite.  By the time I crawl out of my cave at 8-9 at night, I have not eaten a thing all day.  So I eat whatever I want.  Or nothing at all.  I am not exercising because I’m not allowed to, which is not helping with the irritability.  I haven’t gained anything, but I’m not losing anything either. 

I’m not getting any better.  I’m not getting any answers.  I’m not getting any skinnier.  The only thing I am getting is plenty of sleep, and a shitload of stress that I’m not allowed to burn off. 

I am in SUCH a funk, I don’t know how to dig myself out. 

Le Sigh. 

Fatgirl. 

Can someone pull this machete out of my head?

Day 28. 

TWENTY. 

EIGHT. 

DAYS. 

How can someone have a migraine for 28 days, you ask?  Good question.  The doctors don't seem to know the answer either.  I finally went to the Chiropractor yesterday to see if they had any insight.  Of course they found something wrong.  Something is wrong with my neck, on the left side, at the base of my skull.  But they aren't positive what it is, and I won't get the results of the EMG or the X-Rays until tomorrow.  In the mean-time, they started me on massage therapy, shot me with a laser, stuck needles in my neck, and called it accupuncture (more like fucking torture), and then wrapped tape around my neck and shoulders and sent me home. 

Guess what?

Now, I have a migraine, AND my neck hurts. 

All I know is, I have 165 days until I leave for my cruise, and 50-60 pounds that I want to lose before I go.  I would have to lose 2 pounds a week STARTING now to lose 50 pounds by the time we set sail. 

I am >thisclose< to saying FUCK the doctors orders - and going running tonight.  And everyday for the next 165 days. 


Oh, and this is my new profile picture everywhere.  This is how I feel 98% of the time. 

Hey Fat Girl.....

Hey.  Fat Girl.

Yes, you. The one pretending to not see me when we cross paths on the running track. The one not even wearing sports gear, breathing heavy. You’re slow, you breathe hard and your efforts at moving forward make you cringe.

You cling shyly to the furthest corridor, sometimes making larger loops on the gravel ring by the track just so you’re not on it. You sweat so much that your hair is all wet. You rarely stay for more than 20 minutes at a time, and you look exhausted when you leave to go back home. You never talk to anyone. I’ve got something I’d like to say to you.

You are awesome.

If you’d look me in the eye only for an instant, you would notice the reverence and respect I have for you. The adventure you have started is tremendous; it leads to a better health, to renewed confidence and to a brand new kind of freedom. The gifts you will receive from running will far exceed the gigantic effort it takes you to show up here, to face your fears and to bravely set yourself in motion, in front of others.

You have already begun your transformation. You no longer accept this physical state of numbness and passivity. You have taken a difficult decision, but one that holds so much promise. Every hard breath you take is actually a tad easier than the one before, and every step is ever so slightly lighter. Each push forward leaves the former person you were in your wake, creating room for an improved version, one that is stronger, healthier and forward-looking, one who knows that anything is possible.

You’re a hero to me. And, if you’d take off the blaring headphones and put your head up for more than a second or two, you would notice that the other runners you cross, the ones that probably make you feel so inadequate, stare in awe at your determination. They, of all people, know best where you are coming from. They heard the resolutions of so many others, who vowed to pick up running and improve their health, “starting next week”. Yet, it is YOU who runs alongside, who digs from deep inside to find the strength to come here, and to come back again.

You are a runner, and no one can take that away from you. You are relentlessly moving forward. You are stronger than even you think, and you are about to be amazed by what you can do. One day, very soon, maybe tomorrow, you’ll step outside and marvel at your capabilities. You will not believe your own body, you will realize that you can do this. And a new horizon will open up for you. You are a true inspiration.

I bow to you.

I stole this from another blog, but it's amazing, and I wanted to keep a copy of it. 

That being said - I really don't have an update.  I am on Day 25 of my Migraine.  I have been ordered by my doctors to do absolutely no strenous exercise untill I have been cleared by the Neurologist.  The problem is, I don't see the Neuro Doc for another two weeks. 

In the meantime, I have bumped my calories back down to a deficit so that I can try to savor what I have already lost, instead of gaining it all back.  So far, so good.  I jumped on the scale yesterday (with Today being June first and all), and I was 212.8.  No gain, so that is good.  I thought I would be at 190 by this point, so I do have some catch up to play once I am cleared by the doctors.  I am overwhelmingly frustrated with all things Health related.  My head, my weight, my freaking medications that they can't seem to figure out.  I am missing out on so much - it's driving me crazy.  Literally.  And I have been pretty irritable lately too.  I probably won't post again until I get news from the Neurologist.  That is, unless you guys want me to post everyday that I have a headache, I went to work, I was nauseous - so I didn't eat, I took migraine medicine that is not working when I got home, and then went to bed.  Because that's been my status update every day for the last 25 days.... 

Yeah, that's what I thought.   

Fat Girl - OUT!