I would run 100 miles...

... and I would run 100 more. Just to be the one who ran 100 miles to fall down at your door...

Since I started tracking my mileage on Daily Mile, I've run 100 miles.

I swear, just check out the nifty widget over there on the right.

If that isn't motivating, I don't know what is.

*Apologies to the Proclaimers for changing the lyrics to their song. They put on what was by far one of the best concerts I've ever seen. Only thing that would have made it better was not having the creepy blind date along... Good thing Scottish accents make up for most everything.

When the Universe Makes Its Will Know Via Cake

In my mind, I was writing this great post today about how I've fallen off the wagon on the whole no sugar thing, but that I was recommitting myself, you know, starting tomorrow. It was going to be today, but then I remembered that ice cream cake in the freezer at work. Hrm, I needed a piece of cake first, like a last hurrah.

The freezer at work, works much better than my freezer at home. That sucker was hard. I should have stopped then. That should have been my sign when I couldn't get my knife through it. I kept going however.

The piece of cake released, the knife went flying, right in to my left index finger. One look and I knew. I had cut through the superficial layers of skin and I was just about at the point where I could have inflicted serious damage.

I'm a klutz. I know my injuries. I could let it go, but it would take a long time to heal and there would be infection risk. It would also hurt a lot more. Or, I could suck it up and get it glued shut. No Urgent Care downtown by work, but there is an ER. The busiest ER in the state. The place the National Guard sends its medics for training because they see that level of trauma. I walked down to HCMC with a coworker. He was sent along to make sure I didn't pass out on the way. No, it wasn't that bad, it was a safety precaution.

I got in line, let a couple of people that were in much worse shape than I was go ahead of me, and two hours later I got my super glue (dermabond), steri-strips, and a discharge notice about giving people the finger.

Then I went back to work and ate the piece of cake that caused all the trouble.

I know I'm a sugar addict, and yes, I am using that word correctly. It is a compulsion, and it can be serious. All joking about my little cut aside, I know there is a problem here. I'm still trying to figure out how I want to deal with it. I know I have an appointment with my Dr. in two weeks where I will be able to ask more about what my options are. Perhaps it means some more serious therapy. However, the waiting lists for places that offer that are long. Perhaps it means something OA, but I am not sure I am ready for that yet.

I've made it past the first hurdle. The one that dealt with my sedentary life. It takes work for me to not want to run every single day. Those rest days are hard to take off. I know I can deal with this. I know I can get past it. I am just not so sure how that is going to happen right now.

When Retail Therapy Goes Badly

Open letters to an evening of shopping.

Dear Schuler Shoes,

Yes, I know that it was 10 minutes before you closed, but some of us work and like putting our kids to bed. I came in knowing exactly what I wanted. You didn't need to act so annoyed. Also, sort of disappointed that you didn't have my size. You're one of the only places in town that carries them. You didn't even offer to see if you had them at another store. I was willing to spend the extra 40 bucks to buy them from a local store, but you lost that sale. Likely any future ones as well.

Sincerely,
Big Foot just ordered off of Amazon.

Dear Dick's Sporting Goods,

Yeah, totally happy you had a nice lightweight hat for me to use for running. Absolutely disappointed that you didn't carry any women's socks above a size 10. Men's socks are OK, but can be wide. If I am going to spend money on the good running socks, they had better fit me.

Sincerely,
Big Foot Again, still looking for the socks

Dear REI,

I pink puffy heart you. I ordered a couple of pairs of shorts online earlier this week (including plus size, so awesome you carry workout clothes for real women), and I took the chance today to try them on. I cannot wait until mine get here. Almost bought another pair. (holding out on buying more than the minimum until I lose more) Keep up the good work.

Sincerely,
Fat girls need wicking fabrics too

Dear Thighs,

You know, I guess I could have been OK not seeing you in your current state. That whole lack of a mirror thing was sort of working for me. However, I must say, given that your current saggy look is due to my losing weight, I can't be too upset. We're getting there. Thank you for putting up with being shoved in tight compression shorts and running skorts. The skorts definitely were better, but we're not quite out of the chaffing woods yet. Soon. However, even if you're not there by fall, I'm still putting you in tights.

Sincerely,
Cottage cheese doesn't even begin to explain it...

I Kicked Week 5 and Lived to Tell

So, Week 5 is done. In the seven or so weeks I've been doing this, nothing has scared me as much as that first really long run. Nothing.

I read ahead when I was on week 3 and thought about giving up on the spot.

However, I now own Week 5.

I jogged, very slowly, for 1.37 miles.

Let me put that another way. I ran over a mile, at an under 15 min/mile pace. (14:35 to be exact)

Then I limped home like the big baby that I am. For longer runs, my foot cramps up, my knee starts getting weak, and it is all I can do to make it through the full 3 mile route.

Good thing that I don't run again until Saturday and that Week 6 starts out slow.

I will be getting some insoles until my new shoes show up, hopefully that helps out a little. By the time I get to Week 7 (OMG, no slowing down at all) I should have new shoes in my hot little hands (please don't let me down Amazon.com)

While I'm Doing the C25K - Episode 2

Five minutes isn't seeming like so long anymore.

You know, now that I'm on the uber budget, I should put together a wish list for running supplies. What should I put on it? It would help me have goals to save for.

More singlets. This thing is damn comfy to run in. But I'm sweating like a hog and I really should wash them every day now.

Some more sports bras, see reasons above. Glad I found the Moving Comfort one, but I wonder if it will work without underwire.

That reminds me, I really need to save up for some new bras in general.

I wonder if Nike still makes wicking undies. Cotton is just not going to cut it when it is ninety degrees out. *

I should blog about how happy I am to have lost enough weight to be able to find cute underwear cheap. No longer forced to shop at Lane Bryant.

OK, back to the list.

New shoes. My older motion control shoes are helping out the knee. Damn I hate that the little snot at the New Balance store was right. At least I can order online now.

I need a haircut. That is a running supply right. I wonder if I can afford to keep going to my regular person. If I had to go to the Institute it would suck. Trainees hate curly hair.

Maybe I should get a lighter weight hat like that chick that just passed me again. The canvas is going to get hot too.

I wonder if I will ever be comfortable in those short running shorts.

I will never be comfortable in that unitard thing she is wearing. OMG.

I'm going to be the dork that goes to the grocery store in her workout clothes tonight. To hell with it.

Monday is 8 minutes. I'm scared.

* Yeah, if you have always worn technical running shorts, you won't get this. The fitness pants I run in, no liner. However, I did find these from Title Nine. They are now on the list.

** I have no idea if it will work, but I am thinking about moving my work schedule and trying to get out when A is getting ready for work. That would be around 5:30. AM. I don't do well for exercise then, but I think it would help my overall goals of weight loss to start the day exercising. We'll see if it lasts longer than my Shred at 5:30 plan. (two weeks was all I made it then)

The Bee's (slightly tweaked) Knees

Dear Week 3,

I just can't quit you.

Sincerely,

A. Sprout


I've sort of been half assing (it is a word, I swear) participation in Liz's challenge, but I'm making it official.

Week 3 kicked my behind, or well, my knee, all over the place. Friday, it started hurting a little. Saturday, I ran again because I needed to get one more Week 3 in. Sunday, any time I left it bent or stood on it for too long, it was killing me. I still had to mow the lawn however, so I powered through. When giving M a bath on Sunday before bed, all of that kneeling on the hard bathroom floor did me in. I spent some quality time with Dr. Google and determined that I had runner's knee. Common, but you know, consult a professional.

One thing that I've learned is that all of the normal rules don't always apply when you're doing fitness activities and obese. I bet those little stick figure like people would have issues if they carried around a 60 pound backpack while gleefully jogging down the path too. (bitter, who me? ) Before I ever considered C25K, I spent close to a year walking and building endurance. I dropped 30 pounds. I can't even imagine doing this when I weighed 260. You have to listen closely to your body when you have this much extra stress on it. When they say consult a Dr. before beginning, they mean it.

So, yesterday, even though I was pretty sure I knew what the issues and solutions were, I went to see a Physical Therapist. I want to be in this for the long haul. Getting hurt and having to stop is not an option I want to even consider.

The good news is, Dr. Google was mostly right and it is a common issue with easy solutions. The therapist, and her assistant, were supportive and encouraging. (part of the reason I went with a female PT) They were able to easily identify the issue and give me information on what I needed to do next.

I am very lucky. I don't have to get a referral to see a PT. I went right to the subject matter expert (SME if you're really a geek) and didn't waste any time not training.

I'm repeating Week 3 again because my lungs just don't feel up to going beyond 3 minutes. However, last night (4th time on Week 3 workout) I started to feel like I was breaking through. I was recovering faster and not ending the interval completely out of breath. Tonight, a nice little walk trying to beat the rain. Tomorrow I'm back at it again with another Week 3.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go stand on my tiptoes, do a mime routine with a wall and invisible chair, and lunge a little. I love PT homework, really I do.

Wake-Up Call

I have PCOS. I am insulin resistant. I'm still obese. (BMI of 33.9) All of those things add up to the one thing about it that honestly drives me the most crazy.

I have hair on my face like a fifteen year old boy.

In April of 2007, with a just born M. I look like I could use a shave. Also, damn I didn't realize how bad the edema was from the pre eclampsia. Look at my hands!

For the last year I've been taking a medication that blocks some of the DHT that causes the hair growth. DHT is dihydrotestosterone. Too much if you're a woman, and you grow facial hair. Too much if you're a guy, and you lose your hair. Fun stuff. The medication, spironolactone is actually a diuretic used to treat high blood pressure. I've just been abusing it for its side effect. I don't take the full allowed dose, so the plan was for me to up the dose, if everything checked out.

This last Saturday I went in to my Dr. office for some routine bloodwork. Spironolactone can cause high potassium, which can cause heart problems, so one of the tests that I have done with some regularity is to check for high potassium. I'm not an easy blood draw, but I have never had it go so badly they couldn't get enough blood to do my tests. Until Saturday. I ran in to what has to be the worst and most obnoxious phlebotomist ever. She absolutely destroyed my one good vein, and made another four holes in the process of trying to get something out of me. The good news, she got enough of a dribble for them to do my fasting tests. Bad news, my potassium was high enough for the Dr. to call me somewhat panicked about it.

Since a stressful blood draw can cause your potassium to get out of whack (endorphins and adreneline FTW!), I requested a retest. I specifically tried to make sure that someone else would do my blood draw. I took time off from work so that I could get in as soon as possible (today), and I drove the 45 minutes from my house to their office.

Only to be greeted by the same vein mangler again. Guess who was the only tech available.

I lost it. I screamed and cried all the way home. I called in sick to work because I could not stop crying. If I can't get that test redone, which would now require missing more work just to possibly have the same result, my only option is to stop the medication, and watch the hair come back.

I have spent most of today trying to find information about options. I have IM'd my husband trying to talk myself down off of this ledge. I joke about the hair, but the reality is that it bothers me. Bothers me like I don't feel like a real woman with all of this hair. If I laser it off, it will grow new follicles. The other medication choices I have are out of reach financially. I'm doomed to have to grow it out to a length that can be plucked or waxed regularly, and I'm telling you, those mothereffers grow fast.

There is another choice however. One that I think scares me almost as much as a life spent both overly hairy and fat.

Diet and exercise. Like, lots of it. No sugar, no bad carbs, no junk food, no fast food. Just an hour or more of intense exercise five times a week and an immaculate diet. On the plus side, I would be able to eat all of those potassium rich foods I have had to avoid because of the drugs. On the down side, it would seem that now is the time to confront my demons regarding self worth, and food addiction. Sweet! I've been maintaining my weight, which is great. I've also been able to exercise more than I have since I was in high school. The real story however is that I have yet to completely deal with my bad relationship with food.

At least there would be shopping still, because the idea is that I would get myself down to a healthy weight, and quickly. Now if the Dr. would just call me back so I could run this all by her, I would go out for a run. That would be better than trying to forget there is chocolate sorbet in the freezer.

Side note: If by chance, my German heritage is also partly to blame for the hair, then once I am much much thinner, I could get zapped in the face for a nice sum of money. Awesome huh? Also, this site, though pushing supplements (that I might look in to, with the help from a naturopath), has a lot of good information.

Here to There

This lovely post is inspired by the inspiring Heather. Talking about being fat is hard. No matter what kind of person you are, your life and your values are judged by the size of your waist. No matter how open minded you are, I would bet that just about everyone has judged someone else for what they perceive is their relationship with food. There are people that think we shouldn't get health insurance because it is our fault we are fat. There are people who don't understand who fortunate genetics have been to them. There are also people like Heather who are willing to talk about something that too often isn't talked about. So this is for Heather.

Doing the Shred, or any exercise, when you're obese is hard. If you work out, consider doing it while carrying around your 32 pound toddler. Wouldn't be easy would it? Now consider trying to do it with three of them. That is what it is like to exercise when you're obese. (for this example, we're going with what I was overweight by when I started, around 100 pounds)

Your knees, while admirably (maybe) supporting the weight you carry, do not like extra impact. Your lungs, while hopefully successfully supplying your body with oxygen, likely don't have much extra capacity for things like jumping jacks or butt kicks. It feels incredibly defeating to realize that you can't do the things that seem to come so easily to other people. It can make you want to give up.

I was really lucky when I started doing the Shred. While I have never been awesome when it comes to cardio, I knew that my body was capable of doing a lot. Granted, I was twenty-three the last time I really made it do anything, but I knew I had it in me. The thing I learned very quickly is that you have to start somewhere when going from here to there. It is a path of small steps, especially to start with.

For my knees, I started taking glucosomine. I'm not sure if it did anything to help, but even if it was all in my head, it was worth it. I also took every low impact modification on the Shred that I could. I replaced higher impact cardio exercises with the low impact ones when I just could do it. (god I love punches) I almost immediately went out and got new shoes. I realized I couldn't do some of the abs stuff because of my flabby stomach, so I repeated the exercises I could do when it came to the ones I couldn't (I still do that some). I stuck with it long enough to see that the third time was easier than the second time that was easier than the first time.

I got a good sports bra (well, I had one, but had never used it). I got mine from Title 9. They have great options for the big boobed, or just floppy boobed. If you aren't getting hit in the face by your boobs, exercise is a lot more fun. I also got good wicking pants. For me, I could do XXL from Target. If larger than that, I found a great site in JMS.

When it came to walking and eventually running, it wasn't any different. I started walking half a mile at a time. That is like five blocks. That is nothing to people who are remotely in shape. However, it was huge for me. Every few days I pushed myself farther. I pushed myself faster.

The most important thing I did was get myself a cheering squad. I participated in the Shredheads. Real life, online, it doesn't matter. I have nearly completely given up, but I didn't because I had the support of a community. Last fall was hard, and I quit for awhile, but I am back here, getting up at 5:30 in the morning (two days and counting) because I know that when it gets hard, there will be people here to help me.

So that explains the burning feeling.

Another week of next to no writing, but at least this time I know why. I finally figured it out.

Back in September during my regular visit to the endocrinologist, I got a new prescription. Metformin. It should help with my insulin resistance, and thus help with my weight loss. They start you off slowly, working up to a pretty large dose. For me, the payoff is not having the afternoon snackies when my blood sugar and hormone levels get all out of whack. Well, it would be if I didn't feel like puking all the time. I'm only at three quarters of the max dose and already I want to die. Horrible cramps, nausea, and a general lack of will to do anything.

Here's hoping that it goes away eventually. Since I figured it out, and finally went and looked it up, I have a few things I can try to make it better. Cross your fingers and hope that they work, will ya? Otherwise, I'm back to dealing with fighting off the urge to eat all of the chocolate at 2 PM.

No matter what, I promise this week to be better about writing. I have so much I want to write about. I still haven't posted about my applesauce making, my holiday gift making, or the fact that my two and a half year old seems to be giving up her naps. (dammit) Oh yeah, and I'm joining a gym. Woo hoo!

Did you know it is ridiculously close to Christmas? So much to make, so little time.

Happy Monday tomorrow!

The Little Black Dress (and Red Patent Shoes)

So, the Target dress didn't end up being all that I hoped it would be. A will always give me an honest opinion, and while it may have been nice if I had kept losing weight, the reality was that this going on two week cold is still kicking my butt and it just wasn't right.

So, while he got a haircut and went on his own shopping excursion to Macy's, I packed up M and braved JCPenney. Their plus sized stuff all looked a little frumpy online, but I was hoping I could squeeze in to a size 16. I was impressed. They had a whole LBD section that gave me a lot to chose from so I could find the right thing for both my body and event. I ultimately went with this dress. I also got a backup dress that was safer, just in case.

A and I met back at home and compared (he also got an outfit and a spare) and he agreed that I had found the dress I had been looking for. Add to it a pair of Spanx high waist tights (yahoo!), and the fact that they still had the killer red patent peep toes at Nordstrom Rack and I found the perfect outfit.

The only downside, I could NOT find any of my makeup before we left. I am not a makeup person at all, but I can pull off a pretty good smokey eye when the occasion calls for it. Lip gloss is better than nothing, right? Too bad I always forget to reapply.



The picture really doesn't do it justice. I got compliments from everyone, including a bridesmaid who I didn't even know. (I knew none of the wedding party other than the bride, so there was nothing in it for them) It was the end of the night, we were about to go, I ate the cake, and I forgot to make sure that all of my little pleats were smoothed out before A snapped this. (thus the really dorky looking lighter black line) I guess that means it just barely fit. I just figure that means I will get to wear it more than once.

I can't thank Susan enough for encouraging me to take this kind of a chance. She helped me have the confidence to know that I could pull off this kind of a shape.

Now I just to get over this darn cold so I can get on with my goal of losing (a very petite) cheerleader. 56 or so pounds left to go.

I was not compensated in any way by the companies mentioned above. They likely have no idea who I am and didn't even ask that I write about them.

She has Style, She has Grace

Ok, not so much with the Grace, but I'm working on the style thing.

When I shared a cab from the hotel to Midway with Susan at the end of BlogHer, I had absolutely no idea who she was. It wasn't until I got home, wrote my post BlogHer post and then all of a sudden started getting a lot of traffic from her site that I looked up what she writes. I do believe that she may have changed my life, just a little.

Before BlogHer I was struggling with defining what my style was. I never seemed to achieve that level of comfort that some larger women have. I was never comfortable with the weight I was at after M was born. I would see women much larger than I was and their confidence made them glow. They always looked so put together. I always felt like I looked like a mess. A sloppy fat mess.

It wasn't until I started losing weight this spring that I felt comfortable enough to being to care about how put together I looked. Getting ready for BlogHer was my first real attempt at putting myself together. I knew I would be meeting some of my favorite bloggers. I knew that their style would but stunning. I tried to up my game. I did OK, but I was discouraged. I am thirty-two. I'm not a young adult any more, but I'm hardly an old woman. I had a hard time finding a style that was age appropriate. Then I met Susan and read what Susan writes. Susan has a style that looks positively effortless. She got her shoes complimented by Tim Gunn!

Inspired by Susan, and a dress code at work that got a LOT more strict, I've been trying to define my personal style. As I've lost weight I've had to buy a lot more clothes, and I'm trying to make sure that I make an investment not just in the items that I buy, but in their ability to define who I am through my style. Here is what I've learned. I hope Susan is proud.

• Cardigan sweaters are my new best friend. They're an easy way to dress up something plain. They can be very slimming (contrary to what I had always thought). I can wear them in to work, but take them off when I'm being physical and moving equipment.

• I will never be as funky as the teenager who once wore tie died leggings and velvet mini skirts. No matter how much I try to convince myself, it just isn't going to happen. I will think I can do it, and then never wear what I buy.

• Shoes are the exception. My feet from having M means I have needed to replace a lot of shoes. I can pull off a far more funky shoe than I thought I could. Susan is directly responsible for that. I would have never fallen in love with the cool flat if it hadn't been for her. I would never have gotten my birthday present shoes. I still didn't get the red patent peep toe, but I may change my mind about that.

• There is no substitute for proper fit. I feel better and more confident if my clothes fit. Contrary to what some in the business world may believe, I don't think it is about power suits and high heels. It is about how much you like yourself in what you are wearing. A good fitting pair of jeans and a great top beats a suit that doesn't fit any day. If your clothes are too big, at least stow them away. Better yet, donate them for a tax deduction. (six bags to Salvation Army on Saturday, four more ready to go already)

• I can't do woven shirts or jackets. My arms are still proportionally too large for the rest of me. If my shirt/jacket is too tight in the arms, I feel confined and like I want to crawl under my desk and hide. I do a decent amount of physical labor in my job. I need to be able to move. I would kill for a structured jacket that fit me, but I have yet to find one that fits my small boobs, broad shoulders and huge arms. That is why I now love the cardigan sweater.

I have a wedding to go to on Saturday, and like any good social media girl I went to Twitter for help. Which I got, from Susan. She suggested a little black dress. It was harder to find than I thought (I have a relatively low price point, since I plan on losing the next 55 pounds I need to), but I finally found one this last week at Target. Apparently requiring all of their downtown staff to dress up while no longer having the benefit of a high end retailer in their portfolio has meant that they now stock pretty snappy stuff, at least downtown. I couldn't pull the trigger on the wild shoes, since this is my boss's wedding, but I did find a nice purple cashmere wrap. MY hair will be simple, and pulled back, so I can show off some fabulous earrings (I still have to find). Thanks Susan.

I will always be a fat girl.

I've been wondering if I was leaving my girls behind, what with all of this healthy living and loss of a toddler (cannot even believe that what I've lost is more than what my daughter weighs) on my part. I've been worried that I was abandoning a group that has been good to me.

Fat girls bond over limit clothing choices, Lane Bryant not making a-line skirts (pencil skirts not flattering people), big boobs, discrimination for our size and how much we hate being where we are. We encourage each other to leave the club behind. Nothing beats going in to your favorite fat girl store and realizing little there fits any more and having the sales people who have seen your progress cheer you on. Skinny girls may criticize your food choices or your cellulite, but fat girls love you for who you are, in good times and in bad.

I've realized I'm not leaving them however. No matter how much weight I lose, no matter how shapely my calves are (and they're looking good), I won't forget where I've been. I will look past a person's size to see who they really are and I will speak out when others don't. I will share what I've gone through, because everyone should know that anyone can do it. Even if I never lost another pound, I know that I've accomplished so much.

Apparently I've been glowing lately. People at work have commented about my weight loss. The woman at the Gap who saw me just a few weeks ago trying on the new fits of jeans and being disappointed that they didn't fit, saw me today own a pair of khaki's. She and I shared tips for healthy meals and encouraged each other. Knowing that how I'm feeling on the inside shows on the outside is just one more push to keep going. The other thing that helps is everyone's encouragement here. I've never been one for meetings, but I have always felt at home in a digital world. It doesn't surprise me that this is the place that has helped it all finally work for me. I want to thank everyone who encourages me. You make me not want to let you down, and I know that I would not be losing weight if it weren't for the Shredheads, Julie, Christina and everyone else. Thank you, really, I mean it.

I am a changed woman! (sort of)

First, some things you need to know:

1. My over eating happens when I'm stressed. Without a doubt, that is the part that is hardest for me to control.

2. I've been on the happy pills for a little over two weeks. I may start to notice some effects now, but by no means have they totally kicked in.

3. I've been relatively faithful in journaling my food for over two weeks. I take one day a week off so I don't have to care where I go out to eat, and I took off a couple off days for my birthday so I could eat some damn cake. So far, I've managed to lose over five pounds by exercising more and eating better.

Today was a massively stressful day. I have now joined that club of parents that no one tells you about when you're childless. That club for parents of a majorly, painfully, maybe hemorrhoid causing constipated toddler. I was up part of the night and ended up coming in to work two hours late because of it. I am also in the middle of a major release at work. Never fails to cause some kind of drama that I need to respond to on top of little sleep and being late.

This would have been the perfect excuse for me to eat like a pig before. Not huge portions, just all of that happy comfort food that isn't remotely good for you. Burritos, ice cream, pasta salad with mayo dressing. Today I had every intention of letting lose and eating what I wanted. I went off in search of something really really bad. But then, I couldn't do it. I couldn't just pig out. None of the bad stuff sounded good. Eating a lot sounded horrible.

I'm apparently a changed woman. I ended up getting a light pasta salad (vinaigrette) and a small, mayo free sandwich (which I only at half of, the rest for dinner) so still not awesome, but certainly not the kind of food I would have gotten before. I did get myself a sweet treat, but I took all day to eat it and gave some of it away.

Who knew? I certainly didn't. Now I'm off to risk getting soaked just because I need to exercise.

Is it Tuesday already?

I've lost 5.6 pounds in the last two weeks. I'm now closer to 200 than 250. Woo hoo! I am a mere 27 pounds away from being merely overweight and not obese. Double woo hoo!! Hoping to get there by Christmas so I can justify asking for Gap giftcards from everyone.

I've been breaking in two pairs of shoes, I have three more to go. I have feet covered in blisters and Band-Aids. In case you are wondering, Hello Kitty Band-Aids (Care Bears work too) are the best for padding the blister, but not getting stuck and bunching up and falling off when wearing leather shoes without stocking or socks. Hannah Montana and Pooh are not good enough.

Having my pants shortened was so worth it. Hello cute flats with more pants options.

Speaking of feet, M's toes are nearly peeking off the end of her sandals. Thank goodness it is nearly the end of the warm weather. I'm going to try to hold out another two weeks, since I have at least one pair of actual shoes a size larger, and then take her shoe shopping. At this rate, she'll be in adult size shoes by the time she's in Kindergarten. Are kids like puppies where they grow in to their feet?

It was chilly this morning, like fall chilly, and I was scrambling to find a sweater for M. Maybe I should get those out and make sure they're available.

I went through my closet on Sunday and found three more pairs of pants that fit me now. I have more in the next size down, but I think that is as small as I have. The jeans I have that are smaller, will not work. I had horrid taste in washes as little as 5 years ago. Eeegads.

We want to be able to go and enjoy some of the end of summer activities around here, but M's potty issues had threatened to get in the way. I ordered a Potette today. I hope she'll go in it. Would you all hope a little for me. I need cheese curds and a Pronto Pup.

Mirrors and Self Image

Yesterday I read this amazing post from Julie @ The Mom Slant (formerly MotherGooseMouse, you really should go check out her new site) and it really got me thinking.

As an adult, I have never purchased, nor installed, a full length mirror. Unless it came with the apartment, I have never seemed to need to see all of me at once. Which may explain a little of how I got where I currently am. Well, maybe not, but you never know.

In my office building, in addition to the bathroom mirror that makes me look amazing, there is also a large bank of mirrors on the first floor. I don't go there very often, choosing to enter the building via skyway instead. Today though I found myself walking past the mirrors and taking a good look at myself. I realized that since the last time I paid any attention, a lot had changed.

I liked what I saw.

Other people may see the flabby tummy, the sagging boobs (though I hope I have a good enough bra they don't see that), the recovering stretch marks. I see the thirty pounds I lost. Five to ten pounds on someone with twenty to lose can seem like a lot, but it is hard to see when you have one hundred to lose. Thirty you can see.

My face is thinner, my neck more graceful again, I think I may have lost a chin (I hope). I see somebody worth investing in. I'm putting an effort in to my work clothes (hard when you need to be professional and still crawl under desks). It is time to care enough about how I look to be willing to look at myself in the mirror every morning. It is time to see when the clothes are getting baggy and I need to get new ones that fit better. It is time to see all of the chins go away. It is time to enjoy the gray hair I've earned. It is time to give a damn.

Now I just have to find somewhere to put it.

Confessions of a fat girl.

I am sitting in my office, having had a rough day caused by a visit to the Dr. Well, and a toddler. When does TWO not have an effect on my day.

I have in my office a prescription for a weight loss pill. Not the nice newer one that has less side effects, because that one costs a whopping 138/month and I just don't have that kind of change laying around. This is a prescription for Phentermine. Well, not a prescription, I actually shelled out the 30 bucks for the pills themselves.

I'm still not sure if I want to take it. I can't find any information on it written by women I would seem to care anything about. I'm terrified of screwing with my already screwed up brain just to move this whole weight loss thing more forward. I'm writing about it here because someone needs to.

I am tempted. I am tempted because I am slow in losing weight (though every month since last October I have lost at least something). I am tempted because I snack out of control some days. Sure, meals may be healthy, but this window between 2 and 4 it all goes to hell. I am tempted because I live in a house with a person who is not the best influence on my eating. Not that I blame him, he just doesn't make it easy some days.

I also have in my house a bottle of antidepressants. I really should have kept track of which ones made me fidget to bad I wore a hole in my sheets with my feet (scratchy heels?). I'm pretty sure it is not that one.

I'm scared as hell about not being able to do this without the serious intervention. Have I mentioned that?

Today the nutritionist confirmed what I already knew. I know how to eat right. I just lose it on the execution. She did give me some good info that will help sorting out the labels and brands to find the best choice. She also gave me a new online tool that should replace the WW site and spits out all kinds of awesome graphs and charts and makes my geek side silly happy.

For now though, I think the pills stay in that drawer, high up in the book shelf. They say it can form habits and with a family history like mine, for now, I don't feel like risking it.

I did the 30 Day Shred tonight. My arms shook so bad I had a hard time drinking a glass of water when I was done. Today I added up my calories on the new site (will share if I end up really loving it) and I came in right where I should. I can do this. I can make this work. Just me and the bottle of antidepressants.

Dr. Fatty and Getting Back on the Shred

Tomorrow I go back to my new Endocrinologist (we shall call him Dr. Fatty since he specializes in treating the obese, which I am). It is not an appointment I am looking forward to. It also includes a meeting with a nutritionist. A meeting I need to bring my "doesn't love my healthy cooking" husband to.

Dr. Fatty and I exchanged emails shortly before BlogHer because my wonderful insurance denied two of the prescriptions he gave me. The first being for something to block the type of hormone that causes me to look like Teen Wolf. Apparently since it is an off label application of a prostate shrinker they think as a woman I just don't need it. It sort of makes me want to mail photos of me un-medicated after having not waxed for three months to them until they give it to me. I did ask him about laser removal to resolve the issue so he dropped the bomb on me that it would just keep coming back. Awesome. I'll be joining the sideshow as the bearded lady as soon as I hit menopause for sure now.

The second comes with a lot more emotional baggage. It was a prescription for a weight loss drug. While I have been (very slowly) successful in my weight loss since I weaned M back in October (18 months I nursed her, it is World Breastfeeding Week, supporting a nursing mom), it really wouldn't hurt me at all to kick it up and get to a healthy weight a little bit faster.

We didn't talk a lot about my diet but he knows that I know how to eat the right stuff, and I'm sure he knows what I didn't say. I don't always get it right. I can eat a sensible breakfast, a decent lunch, plan for a great dinner, and it all falls apart somewhere right after lunch to around 3 PM. No lunch ever seems big enough to hold off the snackies. Then there is the stress eating. I don't even want to think about what I was eating right before BlogHer what with the sick kid and impending social disaster. All of it relates to my emotional health on some level. So when they denied my prescription for the latest and greatest weight loss drug, I had a nice sigh of relief. Then I asked for an anti-depressant instead.

Which he sort of hedged around.

I'm not looking forward to having to say to someone with years and years of schooling that I'm not too keen about taking a stimulant that has been known to have less than great side effects (the not as new drug that my insurance will cover or I can pay for myself). Instead I'd like to balance my brain chemistry and see if that makes working out more effective (instead of making me so tired I want to cry all day) and helps me eat less.

Think happy courage thoughts for me tomorrow maybe?

I will at least be able to go in to the appointment knowing that I will be back on the Shredded saddle again this month. I enjoyed my time off. The biking was fun, but they did tear apart my whole trail right when I thought I was nearly over my near accident. So I need to get back in to something a little more intense than my gossiping walks with Kristen. Just to keep me in line, I've got a partner for the month.

Oh, and if you're ever wondering what kind of motivation could make me want to subject myself to Jillian Michaels again, seeing how hot Kristen Chase and the rest of the Shredheads looked at BlogHer should keep me going down to a size 12 at least.

Consult with your Dr. before beginning

Writing about it sort of got lost in the flu scare, but I had my first appointment with my new endocrinologist on Wednesday afternoon. It was by far one of the most informative, comforting and terrifying Dr. appointments I have ever had.

I got a diagnosis, a Power Point presentation (which makes the geek part of me super happy) on just what my body is/could be doing, a lot of blood drawn, and the beginnings of a plan. I'm still processing it all.

The Dr. I saw is the head of an obesity & endocrinology clinic. Someone who has seen that traditional practices do a poor job of treating the whole patient, especially patients with weight/endocrine issues. I am obese, but instead of just looking at me and going "you should do something about that" and saying my overall tests were OK, it was treated this time like a disease, with causes, and treatments. Based on my old blood work, my symptoms (hair growth, blood sugar issues long ago, insulin issues now, weight, girly issues), I also got a diagnosis of PCOS.

The plan is to take a look at some new tests (hormones, Vitamin D levels, sugar levels, cholesterol), make sure the source of all of this isn't something else, and then treat the obesity and the insulin resistance. I have to see a nutritionist, go to some food related classes, and see the Dr. on a regular basis.

I'm scared, super scared, of what he could tell me. I'm scared of taking drugs to help with weight loss, I'm terrified that it won't work, I'm worried A won't be willing to help me make diet changes (though I'm relatively sure that when I see the nutritionist, she'll see I'm already eating pretty well), and well, I'm just plain afraid. This is new, this is different, this is change, and I'm not always so good with change.

My next appointment is in a couple of weeks. Until then I am trying to tell myself that I am not alone. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't feel like I had support. I am doing this to make sure that I am healthy, and here for my daughter as long as possible. So I can remind her about the hell she is putting me through with potty training.

I'm a bad Hot By BlogHer....

So I went and sort of nagged Christina (my BlogHer roomie) about Hot By BlogHer, and then haven't really done any of the challenges or kept up. I've just been a little overwhelmed. Especially when my weight loss didn't happen quite the way I planned initially.

As of today, I've lost 10 pounds from when I started in March with the Shredheads. It isn't much in weight, but I've made up with it in overall change in my body. More muscle, better clothes fitting. I feel so much better than when I started. I'm continuing my regular exercise, and I'm also keeping up (most days) with eating better. I will go to BlogHer more confident than I was, and really, that is what being HOT is all about.

I still have a long way to go. My weight is still obese, my skin is still going to take time to recover from all of these changes. However, I don't feel like I'll be back sliding at all. I'm confident enough that when I cleaned up the laundry area, I put all the larger sizes in bags to pass on to other friends. There is something about this time that feels different. This weight isn't coming off quickly, it isn't a fad diet, it just small changes that I know I can maintain. I'm hoping when I see my new endocrinologist tomorrow that they agree that I'm taking that right steps. I hope that they can help me find the right tools so I never deal with Type 2 Diabetes.

I feel like I've written this post before, and maybe I have, but I need to remind myself that this is working, that this feels good, but there are still days when I doubt myself.

Of course, I can also look at this great dress I found for BlogHer. Ignore the flash in the window, this was the best shot of the dress. It will look even better with the Spanx I got. I decided not to try them on for the try on photo, they terrify the dog. How did I not believe that they were worth the price before, they totally work, but that is another post.

I am not full of ...

Tonight I was going to skip exercise. I skipped last night because we were out with A's brother's family celebrating M's birthday. (I had dessert, it was a beautiful thing) I'm also maybe possibly coming down with a cold, so I figured I'd earned some rest.

Then this little voice in my head was like,

Seriously? You're seriously going to make that excuse? You can do a silly little walk. It isn't raining. It is pretty nice, and you're going to make some lame ass excuse about being a little sick. Do you not remember that you found even MORE clothes in the closet that fit you now? You're not that far away from the entire size 16 collection of really cool clothes. Get up off of your ass and go for a fucking walk.

So I did, and then just to prove to the little voice in my head that I am not full of it, and I am becoming a changed woman, I decided to start my version of the Couch to 5K and run part of my walk. Two mile walk, I did 30 second (or so, I've timed it before and it is around 2 blocks so that is what I did) jogs 5 times.

I may not be losing much weight, but this change that has happened with me exercise wise is weird. I have no idea where it comes from most days. Maybe I should have listened to the voices earlier. Granted, I think they used to say, "Eat the cookie, it's only one cookie." repeatedly.