Today is my one year anniversary of successful weight loss. 365 days ago I gave my program a chance (after oodles of tears) and here I am celebrating that it worked! Go me!
I can no longer wear anything “plus sized”. I’ve seen a size 10 after 20 years of 14-16s. I was in a dressing room in Kohl’s with Allie when I put on size 12 pants and they were too big. I yelled out to Justin to find me a size 10. I tried them on and cried. Allie went bolting out of the dressing room to Justin, announcing, “Uh-oh! Mommy’s crying!” I just stood there smiling and crying, and he congratulated me and hugged me. Hello, size ten. I have arrived. Size eight, you better get your shit ready, cuz you’re next!
|One year, 30lbs. and 24inches later! Score!
Justin asked me what happened to it (since it had become a permanent fixture on the stove) and I confessed that I was too scared to cook it and it went bad. So, when we went to the grocery store again, you can only imagine the look I got when I sheepishly put another one in the cart.
“Really? Are you going to actually cook it? Or are you going to panic and let it go bad like the last one? Have you conquered the fear?”
I shot him a ‘screw you’ look and snottily said, “Of course I’m going to cook it this time!” That was bitchy. He had a point.
I did finally cook it after looking it up online and comparing 5 different ways to prepare the damn thing. I chose the method that was most frequently mentioned. Stab the sonofabitch, put it in a baking dish and bake it for an hour. Cut in half, use a fork to pull the “spaghettis” off and voila’! A pasta craving killer.
|Just in case you were wondering what I'm talking about. Ooooooo scary sketty squash!!!
When I first met Justin, I was a “runner”. At least I was trying to be. I had bought all of the cute ensembles, the proper shoes, and the Idiots Guide to Running. I was getting quite good at it until he showed up. I think I went out jogging about 2 times and then decided to just surgically attach myself to his side and do/eat/go along with all things he did/ate/went to.
Little did I know that he was one of those people who could eat EVERYTHING. He was the only person I know who would get into bed, reach over, open the end table and pull out a gallon bag filled with Oreos and NutterButters, a bag of pretzels and a can of Pringles.
Holy hell. That was the beginning of the end. I was no longer a jogger. I was an eater.
That end table no longer has food in it. And Justin has started the program to lose some post-surgical weight. And I went back to running.
Again, starting was scary. I dug out my cute little ensembles (which fit me for the first time in 7 years), bought the proper running shoes, subscribed to Runners World magazine and bought a book for beginner runners to see if anything was new or different.
Then I stared at it. For two weeks. I think I”m going to name this affliction “Squash Syndrome”. That just came to me now. Anyway….
I remember starting the health program and being terrified of the food before it arrived too. What IS that??? Why did I feel such fear over things that were only going to have positive results? It’s ridiculous! God knows I wasn’t afraid of eating an entire cake in 24 hours or afraid of laying in bed for 3 days from depression (it wasn’t pretty). I was fearless in those cases! And there were plenty more of them.
With running they tell you to just put on your shoes and put one foot in front of the other. That’s all. And it’s excellent advice. It pertains to everything we are afraid of. JUST START. The rest will follow.
Facebook is an amazing phenomenon as it can ruin your day or make your day. It can crumble dreams or inspire you. During my Running Squash Syndrome, Facebook managed to inspire me. I kept seeing the same three people posting about running from time to time. Toni, Jessica and Madeleine. Every time I saw them post about running, it made me want to do it. I wanted to be like them! I had been watching for months, but now I was actually making efforts to TRY it! I asked them questions and searched for advice. Ironically, all three said they didn’t feel like they were any good at it and at times they hated running…..and it was the push I needed. They hated it sometimes, yet they kept going. There’s something to be said for that. It means that it provides results that make them feel better. It was totally worth any pain running created. And that’s all I wanted.
I’ve been at this for about a month now. I’ll be honest. It’s effing hard as hell. Little kids seem to have no problem just dashing about for hours. Experienced runners make it look effortless and like they are gliding. It LOOKS easy. But it’s not.
Yet I like it. Within 3 minutes, however, I looking like I’m going to keel over and die. My feet start dragging and my form is reminiscent of an escapee from a mental institution. I’m constantly correcting it. I often imagine that I look like Phoebe on the episode of Friends where Rachel is too embarrassed to run with her.
I have had some nice results. My legs are gaining some nice muscle…… from the knee down. From the knee up, I’ve got a thighmergency. There’s cellulite, flab and jiggling. I had an emergency consultation with my fitness pro neighbor friend, Trish, about how to make this go away. Right away, she gave me the sympathetic, knowing nod and said, “I have many people with this same problem.” And then I mentally inscribed every exercise she mentioned that might help onto my cranium.
|During a stretch, I noticed that my calves were looking snappy. Notice the thighs aren't in the photo!
I’m hoping that this is how it works with running: your body starts to improve from the feet and works its way up. I’ve informed my calves that I’m plenty pleased with their appearance and they need to let my thighs have a turn now. Okay, thighs! You're up! Get crackin’!
On the plus side, I’m no longer gasping for air after 30 seconds. Seriously. If you’ve never tried it, I challenge you to go outside and run down your street for a full minute. I did that with Justin years ago and by the time he reached the stop sign at the end of our block, he was winded and said, “fuck it”. He no longer makes fun of me.
I love when I put on my shoes and get ready to go and Allie says, “Have a good running, Mommy. We will stay here and take a bath while you’re doing it.” I love when I come home a sweaty mess and Allie says, “Mommy, how was your running? You look.... hot.” And that’s not a compliment. She doesn't mean good "hot". It’s a polite observation of how horrible I look.
|Me and Allie in Valentines Day 2013
|Justin, Allie and me Valentines Day 2014
Apparently July 11th is going to be my Resolution Day. Screw New Year’s Eve. Pick a day and go for it. Just start. Every day is a gift, so the day you are in right now is the perfect time to start something new!
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