First, the "Yay, me!" stuff. I just got back from a brisk lunchtime walk with a friend in the chilly Seattle sunshine. We are congratulating ourselves on our new activity-based, as opposed to the longstanding food-based, friendship, haha. A baby step, yes, but I did a) take note of the sunny day and b) ask her if she wanted to go for a walk instead of sitting in the lobby yakking, as we usually do. (This, in itself, is quite a change from our pre-surgery habit of walking over to another building and buying lunch. When I started my pre-op diet, my buddy took a vow of a protein shake lunch as a sign of solidarity.)
Also, I cooked tonight's dinner (soft tacos - easy) before work this morning and pre-arranged with my daughter for her to re-heat them when I call, after I've picked up the boys from daycare. We will eat in the car on the way to the YMCA to work out! This is a major feat, as their dad and I have a late afternoon doctor appointment (consult) for my youngest today. Normally, I would say NO WAY I could work in a trip to the YMCA. However, this morning I thought about it and thought if I really, really want to be successful at this, I'll need to find ways to challenge my expectations of what I can handle with the kids in the evening. It will be tough, but do-able. And I really, really want to be successful.
My weight loss is, um, non-existent. I cannot explain to you how frustrating that is given I am taking in practically no calories, and haven't for a month. It is foolish to get stressed out over this, however! What's the point? And, really, when I say that I have lost 21 pounds in January...well, that is nothing to sneeze at! It's just...well, I haven't lost a darn thing since those 14 pounds dropped off immediately after surgery. So seeing the scale at the same - NO! Not even the same!! Seeing the scale at 1-4 pounds more than my lowest? Well, it stinks. *
*Coming back to add - I am closing in on the lower number again. After spiking from a low of 241 to 244.5, this morning the scale was back to 242, after a week or more of lingering on the higher end. I have a feeling the scale is about to start cooperating.
It's all a mind game, though. Must be fluid, maybe from the surgery, must be my poor freaked out metabolism hanging onto every ounce, something. However, it cannot last! I am patient, and I will prevail. (Okay, I am not actually patient, but I will ultimately prevail.)
The happy flip-side of that is that while the scale is not budging, my body is changing! JUST LAST TUESDAY (I had to go back in search of my original post, to see when it really was)
Hmm - you know what? I don't have to qualify pictures of myself. :) I am trying to get better at just loving me and being happy for me, without qualification or reservation.* I am wearing jeans that I stopped wearing probably two years ago, and I feel pretty damn good about it.
*If I get too good at loving me without qualification or reservation - well, just tell me to shut the hell up, haha.
A little bit on the flip side of this post. It's not bad - I decided yesterday that I wouldn't exactly characterize it as "buyer's remorse." Because, in fact,
I am experiencing exactly what I expected, and exactly what I choose for myself.
Yesterday was sort of a grouchy post-op diet day for me. I was hungry, and I am tired of foods that I know will not give me a stomach ache, and I am tired of guessing which foods will not. Actually, I kind of hit this wall where I just didn't want to *think* about what I was eating anymore. I was hungry, and I wanted...FOOD. Moreover, I was hungry *and* thirsty, and I wanted to sit down at a restaurant and order food and beverage and enjoy them both. ROAR!
Fortunately for me, I have a pretty good sense of practicality and pragmatism. So, since this surgery is not reversible, and I will, in fact, live out my days with 85% less stomach - well, I'm not going to waste any effort second-guessing the decision. Practical and pragmatic.
Unfortunately, I also have a good dose of self-indulgent and whiny. :) I've taken the liberty of graphing out my state of mind yesterday, and you can see the scales barely tipped in my favor:
No, I won't play the recriminations game. Instead, I put on my didn't-fit-a-week-ago jeans, and I banished my these-were-the-only-pants-that-fit-and-the-next-time-I-want-to-see-them-is-when-I-can-fit-all-of-me-into-one-leg jeans to the top shelf of the closet. I dutifully ate my two ounces of cottage cheese and went to bed happily, looking forward to a brighter future now that I've taken a hard turn off the very bad path that I was on.
*The author was not compensated by the National Association of