These Dreams Go On When I Close My Eyes

I had the worst nightmare last night. In my dreams I'm usually at my pre-baby, hotness, weight and I basically kick ass. I've been in control of my dreams for many years now thanks to my love affair with the Nightmare on Elm Street series. Yes, you can control your dreams. Yes, it takes a LOT of practice. Yes, most of the time I just go with it and don't try and control anything. Last night was crazy. In my dreams I was super fat (not just my current fat, which is pretty fat) and my husbands ex-girlfriend (my stepson's mother) showed up and she was super skinny (which she is not now and has never been). If that alone wasn't bad enough, the dream took the usual course of my husband leaving me for her, then the apocalypse (am I the only one who dreams about the apocalypse on a regular basis?) and then I die because I'm too fat and out of shape to survive the harsh post-Ap living conditions. It was by far the worst dream I've had in a LONG time. I couldn't even think of controlling it because I was too flabbergasted by my extreme fatness. In response I took my husband to the gym tonight and possibly pushed myself too far. I know I pushed myself too hard during my cardio because it took me forever to catch my breath (can we say anaerobic workout?) but I won't know until tomorrow if I worked my legs and abs too hard. It's a fair bet that I did because I did the workout that my trainer showed me and then added some hamstring curls, calf raises, adductor, and abductor exercises. I stretched really good this time so hopefully I will be able to walk tomorrow. The worst part was when my husband asked me why I was pushing myself so hard and he didn't buy the excuse I gave him. He needled the dream out of me (damned soul mates and their ability to see right through you!) and then felt the need to prove to me how much he loved ME and not HER. That was fun. I'm scheduled to work the next three days and I just know I'm not going to be working all three days because it's a holiday and we are ridiculously overstaffed so I will make it back on whatever day I'm flexed. I hope everyone out there is well and feeling the warm fuzzies I am sending out to you. Be good my dear friends and if you can't be good, then be good at it!

The Beautiful People

I want to say thank you for the encouraging comments I got on my last post about work. Business has picked up a little bit and I've been able to actually go in and work my scheduled hours this week. My paycheck today was even two hundred dollars more than I had anticipated with the lack of hours so I'm relieved about that. I haven't posted in a week because I've been really busy between work and going to the gym with my husband. It's SO great to be working out again, and even more so with my husband. Now he actually gets a little down if he comes home and realizes we don't have enough time to go to the gym before I go to work or if the childcare is closed and we have no babysitter. It's a really nice feeling. Last night I had a patient who was in because of their COPD (they were still smoking so we had a little chat about that and I convinced them it was REALLY time to quit. For real.) Anyway, this patient was a very large person (about four hundred pounds) and we got to talking about things they could do to help improve their overall health and naturally diet came up. They said, "Oh I've got that covered. My doctor put me on a low-carb diet and so far I've lost 170 pounds." O. M. G. I was very impressed and I said as much. I told them that I too was on a doctor approved low-carb diet and was shooting for a loss of about the same amount. They were very encouraging and told me they were sure I could do it because, "You're a very intelligent and determined young lady. And if I can lose that much, anyone can." Now I'm sure it will be just a bit tougher to lose that much since I started from a lower weight but I know I can do it. That patient has no idea how inspiring they are to me. People like that are who I look to for encouragement to keep going. People who understand my battle. People who have really been there. People who aren't just ten or twenty pounds overweight, but who really understand what it's like to be in my place. Those people are beautiful to me, no matter what they look like.

It Worked and I'm Stressed

For the love of all things Holy, make it stop! I knew my legs would hurt (hurt is really an understatement) today but my abs are killing me. Thank God for ibuprofen 600s. Yesterday I wasn't sure that the workout even touched my abs. Obviously it did. Ye-ouch! Oh, but it is such sweet pain. Now if I could just get some more sleep before work tonight life would be even more grand. I'll just put the kettle on and make some Sleepytime. A couple of cups of that should relax me enough to sleep. Hopefully. I'm so stressed right now because my hospital has had a low census for the last three weeks and they've been calling people off every night. I've been called off twice in the last two weeks which has really taken a chunk out of my check. I'm supposed to work tonight and tomorrow and I'm VERY worried that they'll call me off. I have no vacation time so I'm not getting paid to be called off. I can't afford to be called off. I'm rambling I know. Pray for me. I need to work. What I need is a freak ice storm to come in and cause about ten or fifteen people to fall and break a hip or a shoulder or anything really. Ugh! Winter is usually the busiest time for hospitals. Maybe I should switch hospitals. *sigh* I'd hate to do that but let's face it....I need to take care of my family and myself.

Jello Legs

I had my first session with a personal trainer, EVER, today. I was so not looking forward to it because I've seen other fat people who sign up for sessions and get totally treated like garbage by the trainers. Unfortunately most trainers don't want to work with fat people (you know..the one's who REALLY need their help) and you can tell by their attitudes and expressions. Before I got to the gym I prayed that this trainer wouldn't be like that and (as usual) God delivered. Jeremiah LOOKED like your typical personal trainer. He was moderately good looking, very built, and full of energy. I thought, "Oh great, this is going to be the longest hour of my life." Then we started talking and he seemed very interested in my fitness background and very pleased that I was not only willing to work but that I was an Iron Sister (tm) as well. He even said, "It's so great that you aren't like the typical girls who come in here; who think the way to results are cardio, cardio, cardio, and  are resistant to hitting the weights." Uh, no. My parents were bodybuilders and long distance runners. I LOVE to pump me some iron. He then outlined a workout schedule and we talked about my goals. He took me through a leg and ab workout that I can do completely at home with the exception of one exercise and  it totally kicked my butt. I had forgotten how much I could sweat from resistance training. Throughout the session he was very encouraging and praised my effort and form. When I left the gym my legs felt like jello and I was on a post-workout endorphin high. I even discussed with him possible signing up for regular sessions. They're terribly expensive but the once a week plan seems do-able (after Christmas of course) and hopefully I can work it into the budget. Either way, I'm glad I met him because he proved to me that trainers who care about us fat chicks aren't just on television.

On another subject, I just couldn't handle the diet change my husband wanted. I had to go back to my low-carb eating. I gave it three days but I was miserable, bloated, and exhausted the entire time. I never felt like I was getting enough protein and the calorie restriction left me starving. The first day I went back to my "normal" eating was like heaven. I was so happy and even though I only ate about 300 more calories than with the "icky" eating, I never felt hungry or bloated or tired. It was awesome. It just goes to show, there isn't a one size fits all way of eating. For me and my body, the answer to health is carb control. For others it's calorie control. For others still it's fat control. For others it's points. Whatever works for YOU is what is the right way of eating for YOU. Don't ever let anyone make you feel bad about your choice. If God didn't make us different, it'd be a very boring world to live in.

Biting Bullets and Making Compromises

I've been complaining to my husband for awhile now that I want to get a weight bench and expand our free weights because I LOVE pumping iron. I know that the common view of gorgeous is rail thin but I find that completely unattractive. I think the fitness and figure competitors like Jennifer Nicole Lee, Jamie Eason, and Tosca Reno are the most beautiful women in the world. They are the epitome of health. Strong, confident, and still sporting some curves. Before my children came into being, this was the path I was on. My husband and I were workout partners in our early days of dating, when I was in firefighting school, and he's been mentioning getting a Bowflex. After pricing different setups I told him I should just bite the bullet and join a gym because then I could have ALL the equipment at a fraction of the cost. He kind of poo-poo'ed it and so I let it go. Then yesterday he presents me with a card for my key chain and a new iPod classic. The card was a membership card to a gym. He bought me a gym membership and an iPod for Christmas! I thought it was too good to be true...then came the catch. He's tired of eating low-carb and wants me to try calorie counting instead. I was flabbergasted. We'd been down this road before. Calorie counting drives me crazy and leaves too much room for binge triggers. So we compromised. I said we'd switch to Eating Clean and then I wouldn't really need to count calories and he'd get a bit of (whole grain) pasta. We'll see how this goes. I'll keep you updated. As for now, I can't get to the gym until Tuesday but I have a free personal training session scheduled for Tuesday morning. In the immortal words of Mario, "Here we go!"

New...Years Resolutions, Or Something Like That

I don't make New Years Resolutions. Haven't for years. I learned long ago that I am crap at sticking to them. I am, however, rather fond of lists. I make them constantly. My lists at work are the only way I get anything done so I've actually made a hard copy of my favorite list and I photocopy it for each patient, each night. I wanted to make a list of goals and rewards for my healthy journey but I got stuck at the rewards! (Seriously! Who can't think of things to give themselves?!? I'm such a freak.) I know what my ultimate-end-of-the-line-uber gift will be. I will give myself the gift of a lower body lift and a brachioplasty (if necessary). I need some suggestions for mini goals. Maybe some of you out in cyberspace will help. Here's my goal list:

• Lose 20 lbs (293)
• Lose 40 lbs (273)
• Lose 60 lbs (253)
• Lose 80 lbs (233)
• Lose 100 lbs (213)
• Lose 110 lbs (203)
• Lose 120 lbs (193)
• Lose 130 lbs (183)
• Lose 140 lbs (173) - This is actually how much I weighed when I was last wearing a loose size 10 so I will treat myself with a shopping spree.
• Lose 150 lbs (163)
• Lose 160 lbs (153)
• Lose 170 lbs (143)
• Lose 180 lbs (133)
• Lose 185 lbs ( 128) - Ultimate-end-of-the-line-uber gift (tm)

I also have a fitness goals list, but I think reaching those goals is a reward in and of itself. Here's that list:

•   Lose enough weight to get the okay from my orthopedic specialist to start running again (253 lb)

• Run 5K (this will be the first one I have RUN in ten years)
• Run 8K
• Run 10K
• Train for and finish half-marathon (walk/run combo is acceptable but running preferred)
• Train for and finish a marathon (preferably one of the Rock and Rolls, but if I haven't made it to California yet I 'd like to do the Cincinnati Flying Pig)
• Bench-press 140lb (I haven't been able to do this since I was in firefighting school)
• Dumbbell curl 25's
• Squat 250lb
• Do 25 military pushups
• Do 10 pull ups
• Get average mile pace to < 9min/mile (I'm not hung up on running super fast but this is what I was running when I ran cross country so I think it's a nice starter goal) 

Okay so those are the goals. I've also decided to do the whole "weigh in and take a picture of the scale" bit that seems to be popular. It's a good idea, and really it keeps you honest.  I'm not sure if I will do the picture part every week or bi-weekly but I will figure that out by next week.

Down with the Sickness

I have been quite out of sorts the last five days or so. You know that feeling when you're not really sick-sick but you feel like you're coming down with something? That's been me. I didn't have to worry about eating poorly on Thanksgiving because I was scheduled to work and my husband took the boys to his step-dad's family dinner. I ended up getting a call when I was half-way to work and they told me I HAD to be flexed/on-call because the hospital bed census was down. (Quick explanation: bed census=number of patients currently admitted. Low bed census=need for fewer nurses.) Although I usually don't mind being flexed (would YOU mind your job calling and saying, "Hey, want to get paid to stay home tonight and NOT get in trouble for it or have to make up some lame excuse for calling in?") I DID mind that night. Spending Thanksgiving alone was not my idea of a good time. Plus I missed out on the bonus money. (Insert frowny face of your choice here) The next night I went in to work and ended up being sent home after six hours for the same reason. Note to self: find job at busier hospital when move to California. By then Black Friday was in full swing and I did not want to deal with the crazies so I went home to let the hardcore shoppers get their 42" tvs for $238 at Wal-Mart. Later that morning I did go out with the boys and the husband but it wasn't for gift buying. I just wanted to take advantage of the sales to get some necessities. I took the boys to Burlington to get their winter gear (Two 3-in-1 system jackets, two pair waterproof gloves, two fleece-lined winter hats, and one pair of Addicted jeans = $130. Thank you very much.) Then I took my husband out to the too-tall-and-muscled-for-regular-clothing-stores store, he's 6'6" and worked construction before he became a chef, and picked him up two shirts and two pairs of jeans for buy one get one free. Then I went to Lame Bryant and got a nice pair of jeans for %50 off. They're a bit dressier than I usually wear but I have Christmas concerts and pageants coming up and my kids refuse to let me wear my scrubs to them. It's raining here today so even though I'm feeling better I don't foresee me doing much aside from running out to escape the children briefly and pick up the new copy of Interweave Knits. I might go to church with the hubs and kids this morning since I missed last night but we'll see. That's a long story.

I Watch Workout Shows

Okay I admit it. I watch workout shows on TV and don't do the workouts. Loser, I know, but hear me out. I've been "on a diet" as long as I can remember. I didn't need to be until after two pregnancies, but my mom was a very overweight child, who became a very overweight teenager, who's parents tried to make up for their horrendous parenting with horses, cars, and lots of food. Then they were embarrassed by my mom's weight so they signed for her to have an earlier, less severe version of a gastric bypass, and she lost a ton of weight. She'd already met my dad who was blown away by her beauty (and my mom has ALWAYS been abso-friggin-loutely GORGEOUS), and after three weeks of dating he decided that he would not re-up for a new tour in the Army, but would instead marry mom, go to college, and go back in the Army as an officer. So that's what's he did, but I digress. In the midst of all this goodness my mom was completely miserable over her weight and since she was underage, my grandparents had to signed for her surgery. After her surgery she married my dad and has been on a diet for the last thirty-three years. My earliest memory related to my weight was when I was in kindergarten. I was supposed to play a bumblebee in the school play and I told my mom I didn't want to because I thought the costume made me look fat. I did NOT have a weight problem as a child. In fact I was on the scrawny side until puberty gave me some curves. My mom thought it was cute that I was concerned about my weight (don't blame her, she didn't know any better). She never realized that her constant obsession with HER weight and HER constantly being on whatever diet was in fashion at the time, translated to ME being obsessed with MY weight and being on whatever diet was in fashion at the time. Consequently I've been on every diet that there was ever an infomercial for, really popular book for, Oprah toted, or that ever appeared on Phil Donahue (remember him?!?). Even in my rebellious teenage years when I decided that I wasn't going to obsess over my weight and conform to society's idea of "beauty" (translation= wild hair colors, piercings, tattoos, and really funky clothes) I secretly obsessed over my weight. I ditched hanging out and partying with my anti-establishment friends, washed off all that goth makeup, took out the piercings, pulled the purple hair up under my Nike running hat, threw on my Asics, and hit the treadmill or the gym. I never worried about running into them there because, let's face it, there'd be snow in Hell before they'd even think about working out. Oddly enough, my mom would frequently join me in my workouts and I was okay with this. Another thing we did was watch workout shows together. We never did the workouts. Just watched. Usually it was just motivation to us both to stay on our diets and stick to our workouts, but it was also time we spent laughing together (c'mon, most of them are funny to watch) and we didn't have to be the bitchy teenage daughter and the domineering mother. Today I got up, turned on the TV and soon found myself watching Gilead. I told myself it was only because he was on before A Baby Story, but I know that's bunk. I wanted that extra motivation for my workout this morning, and later I'm going to call my mom and we'll laugh about me watching it. My mom has always had to battle her weight, even with the surgery and recently got back down to a healthy weight and a normal BMI after losing over seventy pounds in a year. She's my best motivator and my biggest fan. Every pound I lose is important to her and she loves to cheer me on. I also told her that I'm not moving to California until I reach a healthy weight so she has LOTS of motivation to cheer me on. My treadmill is fixed again so my plan today is pretty simple. I'm going to do a couple of miles on the treadmill. Do my stretching routine. Do a simple upper body weight routine.  Then I will probably knit, nap, knit some more and eat healthy. Sounds like a pretty good day to me!

Idle Hands

While this blog is not meant to be only a weight loss blog, I have found that like most people my weight and my journey to slim down and get healthy impacts every area of my life. It takes me longer to get going in the morning (well, morning for ME, which is afternoon for everyone else). The decision to go out is more involved because I struggle with what to wear that will minimize the appearance of how big I am. Work is harder for me because I have to do the same stuff as everyone else and do it carrying around an extra 175 pounds. My co-workers don't care that I get tired more easily or that by halfway through the shift my back is aching. They just care that I get my work done so they're not doing their work plus mine, and there is nothing wrong with that. My weight is not their fault, nor should it be their responsibility. Being a good mom is harder because I can't keep up with my kids. I just don't have the energy, even after losing some weight. My marriage is affected because I constantly feel like I'm unattractive and therefore feel like I could lose my husband to someone thinner and prettier at any moment (though he repeatedly and vehemently denies this). He has told me he wants me to lose weight because I'm not healthy and he's been honest about finding me more attractive at my pre-baby weight, though at the same time he is afraid I want to lose too much and will be too skinny. Men, go figure. I believe I have finally gotten the whole mindless eating thing under control by just keeping my hands and mind busy. I used to just read all the time, but I've found that reading alone is too conducive to eating. Now I do things that can multitask. Like knitting. I've been a knitter for five years and I'm fairly accomplished. I've fair-isled. I've intarsia-ed. I've felted. I've steeked. I've designed and knit sweaters, socks, hats, and mittens. I have a lovely stash that continues to grow. I love my knitting. I now pair my knitting with audiobooks and podcasts and have found that I can go hours without eating as long as I have plenty of Diet Cherry Coke and water. About four and a half years ago I learned how to spin and now have not one but two spinning wheels. Spinning is great too. Between the two you'd think I'd never get bored, but after a lot of either I need a break (and my hands do too!) so my brother introduced me to World of Warcraft, an online game that allows me to keep my hands busy and also have some human interaction since it's multiplayer.  People make fun of people who do all of those things because of common misconceptions but they've been a life saver for me. Your whole day can't be just about what you're going to eat and when you will work out. You work out, you eat right, and then you (well, I) have to find ways to amuse yourself that don't involve a lot of driving around (my husband has the car most of the time), eating, or watching TV.  My house stays fairly clean because I'm a veritable Nazi about the kids picking up after themselves and since they're old enough, they contribute to the household by doing things like light vacuuming, doing the dishes, and folding and putting away their laundry. So that's what I do to keep myself busy. Moral of the story? Meh, I don't have one. I just had to keep my hands busy.

Arrrgh

Arrrgh. That's how I feel because my treadmill STILL is not fixed! Boo! I have not had a workout in a week because of this. Yes, I have workout videos but they do not motivate me or satisfy my need to sweat like my treadmill. I have a long and deep friendship with my treadmill. I don't think of it as a "dreadmill" because it offers me it's soothing hum of stress relief and weight loss whenever I want it. I never have to worry about the weather, my clothing, or the time of day. Maybe I don't mind the treadmill's monotony because I'm not training for a race and I've been a runner for a LONG time (regardless of the pounds I've put on and my not-so-steady running/walking schedule). I don't get bored because once my body gets past the initial "settling in" part of the run, my mind is free to go all stream of consciousness and sort through whatever needs to be sorted. Without talking to a single person or settling on a specific plan of action, this streaming is ridiculously helpful in relaxing me. I usually listen to music but I'll be honest, sometimes I get through half my playlist before I realize the music's on. So I've backed my hubs into the proverbial corner and threatened the withholding of sex if my buddy's not fixed PRONTO. I predict it will be fixed tomorrow. ;-p

So Tired

Today I woke up exhausted. I slept long enough. It wasn't solid sleep because I woke up every few hours, but that's pretty standard for me and when I wake up it's usually just to roll over and I go right back to sleep. I love sleep. I love TO sleep. I am one of those people who could spend a rainy day sleeping and not feel a bit guilty about it. But I digress. I woke up exhausted and not in the mood to get up and get going AT ALL. I don't have a work out planned for today or tomorrow because I have to work so that's at least one thing I don't have to get motivated for. I know when I get going I will actually have more energy but on days like today it's really hard. Does anybody else have this problem?

Strive for...Something

So I have this pet peeve with well meaning people who, after they find out I'm on a mission to get healthy, ask me how much weight I want to lose and then balk when I tell them. Well, YOU asked. Sometimes it's followed up with, "I'm sure you can do it." More often than not I get, "Don't you think that's a bit much to lose?" or "I wouldn't set myself up for failure like that." Uh...thanks. Wasn't planning on it. I know they don't realize what they're doing, but I want to smack them. My goal weight is 125lbs. I currently weigh 300lbs. My starting weight was 312. I'm 5'5in tall and I actually have a small frame (no getting away with saying I'm 'big boned' because at 312 I still only wore a size 7 ring and a size 8 shoe) so according to the insurance charts, 125 is my "perfect" weight. That being said, I am NOT hung up on the number. I'm a nurse for goodness sakes. I know all about body composition and fat distribution, and let's not forget that I'm going to have some excess skin when it's all said and done. I say 125 because it gives me a nice, concrete goal to work towards. I will most likely settle at around 135-140 because I like having muscles and when I was a size 10 last, I weighed 175lbs. I'm not going to feel like a failure if the scale never says 125 while I'm on it. There are people who can make goals like, "I just want to feel better" or "I want to be comfortable in my body" and that's enough for them. I have those goals along with "I want to wear a size 4 jeans" and "I want to wear size small Koi scrubs" because I am someone who NEEDS concrete goals. When I ran cross country I had days when the coach would say to us, "Go run until you think you've run far enough and then come back." Those days sucked for me. I was never able to relax and focus on the run because I was constantly worrying if I'd run far enough. Tell me to go run five miles and do four splits, and I'm happy. Tell me to lose enough weight to make me happy and I'll fail. Tell me to shoot for losing 175lbs and if I get close I'll be satisfied. I know it's a little OCD and Type A (which I'm not, really), but it works for me. I never make fun of other peoples goals or assume they will fail because they aren't concrete or they're terribly different from mine, because as long as they work for that individual they're good goals.

A No Good Very Bad Day

Really!?! That's what I've been wanting to scream at the top of my lungs ALL DAY. For starters I had to be up at the ball crack of dawn to take my dad to the airport so he could fly back to California (where I SHOULD live because that's where the rest of my family has migrated to), and because they had a two hour delay, I had to take both my boys with me (I had already dropped my husband off at work). The airport is a forty-five minute drive from my house and I was two thirds of the way home when I started hearing a loud grinding sound coming from my car. Not one to trifle with strange car sounds, I pulled over immediately and found that my tire was blown out. No, not just flat, there was a huge gaping hole the size of a half dollar in the OUTER layer of the tire. Fix-a-flat was SO NOT going to help this one. I called my husband and told him to which I get the response, "Well what are you going to do?" *blink, blink* "Uh...I just called you. THAT's what I'm going to do." Now I've never been the damsel in distress type. I was raised in a military household by a man who STILL can't talk about what he did while he was in the Army because those missions are still classified, and well, he didn't raise some cry-baby little pansy who can't figure out how to use a jack and a tire iron. I know how to change a tire and I've done it multiple times. The problem was that my husband had removed the jack and tire iron from the boot to make room for groceries and he'd forgotten to put them back. After reminding him of this fact (as sweetly as I was able to manage at that moment) he informed me that I'd have to "hang tight" because he wasn't able to get away from work for "a bit." Well alright then. I didn't really have much choice now did I? Had we been in California I could have just called my mom or my brother and one of them would have been able to come and help, but since I'm still stuck in Ohio I was screwed. All my former close friends disappeared during the time I was working two and sometimes three jobs while going to school full-time trying to get my degree. My husbands family? Busy. Although his youngest sister was willing to call around and see if she could borrow someones car to make the two hour (one way) trek up to help. He told her thanks, but we'd make do otherwise. So there I was, sitting on the side of a back country road, with a blown out tire, two very bored and fidgety boys, and now I had to pee. Since I knew it was going to be awhile I packed up the boys, locked up the car, and began to hoof it to the nearest place with a bathroom. We made it to a gas station with a minimum amount of complaining from the boys (really, I'm the overweight, out of shape one, and they play soccer and they're the ones complaining about a forty-five minute walk? unreal) and thank God, it had a public restroom. After that we walked a bit farther and found a Burger King. By this time I had heard from my husband that he wasn't even close to being able to leave so I bought the boys some lunch and myself a soda and we waited. And waited. And waited some more, until finally my darling arrived and we were rescued. At least, somewhat.  One hour and two hundred dollars (OMG! REALLY!?! ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME?!?) later we had a new tire mounted and we arrived safely back home. I was very strong through the whole thing and avoided the temptation to eat poorly but when we got home I did what any normal person would do...I locked myself in my room, screamed into my pillow for a bit, and then cried a little. Then I logged on to World of Warcraft and took out some frustration on the game. I would have gotten on the treadmill and walked, but my husband needs to tighten the belt because it was sticking a bit the last time I was on it. As a result of today, we have decided as a family that we will be pushing the move to California a little faster than originally planned because I have had ENOUGH of this shit. Thanks for letting me vent internet friends. I hope this hasn't turned you off from my blog. I promise I'm all better now.

I'll Never Weigh 589lbs

I'll be honest...I've been in a slump lately. I get that way from time to time and when I do my general attitude is, "Screw it." Then Sunday night the slump went away and I was all set to set my mind back to working out and eating right. I packed my lunch, went to work, and three hours later I was ready to scream and head for the vending machine. Thankfully I got a call from the ER that I was getting an admission so the vending machine had to wait. When my patient got up to the floor I was glad I'd waited. My patient weighed 589lb (267kg) and had every complication that you can possibly have (almost) from obesity. It took six people, including me, to transfer the patient from the ER gurney to the bed and then it took me another hour to get the patient settled and medicated (including the anti-fungal powder I had to apply to each of the patient's skin folds because they were all red and irritated due to the yeast infections in each one). After all that I had to call a special company and order a different bed because the patient didn't fit into the largest bariatric bed that the hospital had. It was two hours before the bed was delivered and then another six person move. The whole time I was thinking, "Thank you God for showing me yet another reason I just HAVE to stay the course." I know it's a far stretch, and I would think I would never let it get that far, but that could be me if I don't take care of it now. So I stayed on track. Two hours later another severely obese patient stopped breathing and I was running around grabbing stuff, throwing stuff out of their room to allow for all the people and trying to get my compressions on their chest deep enough to actually pump their heart, which is really difficult on a five hundred pound person. They stopped breathing because they threw a clot that went to their lungs. They had clots because they were so big that they didn't move around enough. It was a giant flashing sign, "Hey! You need to make sure you think about THIS when you're tempted!"  I went home absolutely exhausted but with a renewed sense of determination and motivation. Last night was trick or treat in my town and my husband, dad, and I took the boys around for an hour and forty minutes. I didn't eat a single piece of candy. =)

Sometimes Impalement Really Is the Answer

So I've mentioned in a previous post that my husband is a chef. This is good and bad. The good thing is that when I print off a fabulous new recipe to try, he whips it up without batting an eye and it turns out perfectly. He's also quick to whip me up an omelet or other healthy low-carb something or other if he hears the I'm-about-to-cheat phrase of, "I'm starving." He also watches me like a hawk when it comes to eating regularly. One of the benefits of doing a healthy low-carb diet is that I'm not hungry very often and when I'm hungry enough to say, "I'm starving" it's usually been several hours since my last meal (this happens most often after a long night of work). It's not unusual for him to ask me when I ate last, several times a day. This is all wonderful, but marriage to a chef has some serious drawbacks. The obvious is that he's a chef and has only made one dish, in thirteen years, that I didn't like. He's very creative too and often will come home with a take out box of one of his "inventions" and say, "You've got to taste this!" I hate to hurt his feelings but lately I've been having to say, "No honey. Not even one bite." We've talked about it a bit and I pretty much told him that while I adore his cooking, it's not healthy for me. At least not his usual cooking. So he's promised not to bring anything too tempting home. Which brings me to a really important point. When you're in a relationship and trying to lose weight and get healthy, it is IMPERATIVE that your partner be supportive. Without that support you will most certainly feel like your journey is that much longer, lonelier, and more difficult. I feel very blessed that my husband was so open to helping me because I know others who have faced loads of resistance from their partners.  Usually this resistance is fear of change on the part of the partner, but in some cases it's just that the partner is an ass. I have, however, devised an almost foolproof was to tell the difference. If it's a case of fear of change, as you become more fabulous and healthy, the fear of change will usually become pride in your accomplishments. If it's a case of being an ass, as you become more fabulous and healthy, the desire to impale them on the nearest pointy object will increase proportionally.

I'm Not Gone

Been awhile huh? Lol. Sorry, but it's been busy for me and finding the time to blog has had to be worked into the schedule along with the rest of my crazy life. My Anniversary weekend was SO AWESOME. We had such a blast at the Creation Museum. Then we got back and I had to work the next two days. On a quiet night at work I can find time to blog but Monday and Tuesday were anything but quiet. Those days are always big surgery days and as you can imagine, post-op patients are very needy. I have been humming along though. The weather here has been rainy and cold but I love the fall weather and the cold gives me an excuse to wear my new Creation Museum hoodie. I have done really well with packing my lunch...until tonight! I still need to work on my water intake. It's not a matter of a lack of good water, the water/ice machines dispenses purified water, it's just a matter of breaking my addiction to soda. I have a serious addiction to diet soda.  I don't even think it's the caffeine. I think I'm addicted to the chemicals in the soda. I can stop drinking caffeine and aside from a mild headache have no problems.If I try to give up the diet soda though...I'm a raging beast. This alone is enough to tell me that I absolutely must get rid of the soda, but it's going to be tricky. I have to try a step down method. I'm replacing the diet soda with water a little bit at a time. I'm hoping to be off it completely in a year. On a lovely lighter note (pun intended), I went to the uniform store to buy new uniform pants and the cashier made me feel so great. I bought two pair of pants and when I went to checkout, she told me I'd pick up the wrong size. I told her that I usually bought my pants a size or two big because I liked them loose and comfy. She said, "A size or two is one thing but these are WAY too big for you." It made me smile because they were only two sizes bigger than my starting pant size. Yay me!!

The Voices Told Me To

I need a vacation. I'm not sure what the heck is going on but this last week has just sucked! My patients have all been (literally) crazy and there is a reason I am NOT a psych nurse. I. Don't. Do. Crazy. Well, let me amend that. I like the ones that are so crazy they wear tinfoil hats to protect their brains from alien mind control waves, or truly believe they are the Queen of Sheba, or they stay huddled in a corner because the voices tell them too. I like them because I know they REALLY need my help. The kind of crazy I can't handle is the drug-seeking, IV drug abusing, belligerent and verbally abusive to the staff kind of crazy. They usually have some real reason to be there, but they don't want to listen  to us or try to get better. They just want us to wait on them and give them drugs. I'm not stereotyping IV drug abusers either. I've had many patients who were former abusers and they were great patients. I didn't get in this buisness to push drugs. I'm a healer. It's who I was born to be. It's all I've ever wanted to be. I'm the shoulder to cry on and the one who gives hugs when there's nothing anyone can say to make it better. It's really rough when I try to help and it goes in one ear and out the other. HOWEVER, in spite of this lousy week I have been strong in the face of temptation (and not just my video), and I even got a work out or two in. Hallelujah!

I will be taking a mini-vacation this weekend. It's my anniversary on Sunday so my husband booked a romance package at the Ashley Quarters Hotel in Florence, KY and we will be sans ninos for two days and one night. We will also be visiting the Creation Museum, which we've wanted to do for SO long now. I am super excited. Not to worry, I will not be going crazy with the food stuffs. I will have a little bit of a treat on our actual anniversary, but since we will have spent the day walking for miles around the museum (literally, it's HUGE and there are botanical gardens with mile long paths) it won't be too terrible. Also, the hotel has a fitness center and I've packed workout gear.

Something to Snicker at

When you're working on losing weight, life can be tough. All you think about is your weight, your chosen diet plan, and your workouts.  I was driving to pick up my husband from work tonight and one of my favorite songs came on. As I was listening to it, the idea for a video came into my head and I just started giggling. Never is there a time in your life that you need something to snicker at than when you're walking the "thin" line. Feel free to link, share, steal, or just plain groan at my FIRST ever YouTube video.

Pictures

Today is awesome. Yes it is. For starters I was able to get some decent sleep, which can really make a difference in how the day goes. Then my husband and I went out to lunch. (I, ahem, sleep til noon on my days off.) I had a wonderful low carb lunch and then went to tan.

This is my favorite bed. It's an Ergoline and it's huge(!) which means lots of space even for my ginormous butt.

And before anyone goes and gets all preachy on me about the sins of tanning, stop. I started tanning because a couple of months ago my doctor ran a bunch of blood tests and found a couple of major issues, one of which was a serious Vitamin D deficiency. I work nights and even though I try to get outside on my days off, apparently I don't expose enough skin (seriously...would you want to see me expose more skin? No, you wouldn't). After talking for a few minutes about the other stuff - vitamin B12 deficiency and hypothyroidism - he suggested that visiting the tanning bed a couple days a week would be a good way for me to get my Vitamin D. "Don't go crazy and try to get super dark because then you're in skin cancer country," were his exact words. Then he told me that my vitamin deficiencies are contributing to my anxiety and seasonal affective disorder. He also told me, and this was VERY interesting, that obesity causes most of the Vitamin D deficiency in developed nations because Vitamin D is a fat soluble vitamin and fat cells like to suck it out of the bloodstream and store it where it cannot be utilized by the body. Interesting. So my husband and I talked about it and he drove me to the tanning salon where they hooked me up with a package and now I'm two shades darker and my vitamin levels are up. Win-win. I'm still having trouble remembering to take my thyroid medicine and my vitamins so my husband told me today that he's buying me a pill organizer (yes, like the older folks use) to help me remember to take my pills. I protested that since I only take a thyroid pill and vitamins, I don't need an "organizer." He made his point by explaining it wasn't for organization, just a visual reminder to take them and also a way to let me know if I've actually taken something already as I have a tendency to ask myself (out loud) if I've taken my pills today. Okay honey, you win, I'll use the old folks way.

After lunch my husband agreed to take some "Before" pictures of me since I got my awesome new digital camera and for whatever reason that is infinitely easier for him to work than the camera on my phone. So here they are! (And this is quite the step for me, posting them into the blogosphere, as I am very self-conscious about my looks.)

So this is me. Wt 304. Ht 5'5".

This shirt is a 24/26 and these jeans are size 26T because I like my jeans long.

Baby got back.

I hate how you can't tell that I have high cheekbones because my face is so round now. But I smile just the same because I'm happy about the journey I'm on and where it's taking me.

Rough Patch

So it's been a rough patch the last couple of days. Life. Work. Everything. My eating has been fine but I haven't been able to work out and that's been bumming me out. I hear people complain all the time about how they don't have time to work out and usually they're full of crap. I normally have plenty of time to work out. I work twelve hour shifts at the hospital so I only work three days a week. I also work nights so I have the treadmill all to myself and the free weights all to myself. My office is my workout room and I don't worry about waking anyone because once I close the door the noise is pretty much gone. I don't work out on the days I work because anyone who works twelve hour shifts will tell you that on work days you go to work, you go home, you sleep. That's pretty much it. Well this last few days has been hell at work. In the last two nights I've had to: call security to remove a visitor who was threatening a patient, call family to come in at two in the morning because a patient was completely off their rocker and throwing a fit, deal with the constant whining of two drug abusers who kept calling out for their pain medicine five minutes after I'd just given it to them, and help work a Code. At home I've been dealing with end of soccer season tournaments and two boys who absolutely refuse to do their chores and a husband who is coming down with what I had. I am confident that the next few days will be better. For now I will breathe and go make dinner.

What Doesn't Kill You

I am all better! Well, okay, I'm still fat...but I'm totally over my (killer) cold! I swear that nurses can survive Ebola, Dengue Fever, and even the Plague but the common cold has taken out most of my unit. Now life can get back to normal. I hate being sick. Absolutely loathe it. I've never liked being told I can't do something and when I'm sick I feel like my body is telling me I can't do ANYTHING. Super frustrating. So now that I'm all better I will be hitting the treadmill tonight. I'm looking forward to it and that is proof right there that being sick does something evil to my head. I've been thinking that there has got to be a good training program for walking that will help me to work toward my goal of running again. I know that I can't run until I lose a certain amount of weight (on orders from my orthopedics doc who has been treating me since I was eighteen), but I would like to be working on my pace and endurance nonetheless. It has to be flexible since my schedule is kind of wonky and I don't work out on days when I work (not at this point in my journey anyway), but since I only work three days a week, it shouldn't be too difficult to find one.

My guys showing their love for boobies before the Crew game on Sunday. This picture amazes me because my husband is 6'6" and my boys are only 11 and 8 years old. I gave birth to giants.

DC tried to play dirty but my boys won just the same.

My Crew

Oh and I got a new camera! Yay! Now I don't have to take all my pictures with my phone. I still prefer my 35mm SLR for "real" photography, but it's nice to have a digital for my everyday point and shoot stuff.

Soapbox and Sniffles

I wish I could blog about how much better I feel and how I've been able to workout the last two days but...I'm still sick. I did, however, eat much better for the past two days. I honestly feel that I must blame the Crew game for my not feeling better. Sitting out in the cold (freezing!) air for three hours while jumping up and down yelling at the refs and cheering my team to victory (2-1), seemed to be a bit too much for my system to take. When I got home I crashed. Then I had to get up and try to stay up so I could sleep in the morning (I work 7p -7a) and my body was like WTH woman! On the bright side, I got a call that I won the drawing for the Crew game jersey! They're going to mail it to me since I live two hours away. Anyway I AM starting to feel a bit better, and that's even with a crazy busy night at work. I am also proud to report that I am doing great with avoiding the snacks at work. I've been bringing my own snacks to work and keeping a box of tea in my locker so I don't feel tempted to ruin everything. It is hard, but I am determined to lose the weight. I hate being fat. The thing I hate the most is that, as a nurse, people don't take me seriously. Never mind that I was a fit and athletic firefighter and EMT. Never mind that I played soccer all through school and started running cross country at ten years old. Nope. The fact that I'm fat now is all anybody sees. If I offer someone advice on weight lifting or running, their eyes roll. If I counsel someone on their diet, I get the "Uh-huh, you should take your own advice," look. I wish I could carry around pictures of me from thirteen years ago so when they gave me the looks of disbelief I could shove the photos in their overly critical, judgmental faces and say, "See! You jackass! I wasn't always this way so wipe that stupid look off your face!" The hardest part of being fat isn't the before part. It isn't the after part. It's the during part. It's the part where you've been working out, eating right and you're losing weight, but it's only a couple of pounds a week and it's not really noticeable to anyone yet. You're feeling good about yourself and thinking, "Hell yeah. I can do this. This is going so great." Then you get smacked in the face by one of those judgmental asshats. Maybe you're treating yourself to a mani/pedi because you reached your fifteen pound loss goal. You're in the salon and really enjoying yourself. Then some chick gives you the once over followed by one of those many looks, and all of a sudden your great day is gone. Some random stranger who doesn't have the sense God gave a hamster decides they know all about you just because you're overweight/obese. It would be so easy to say you should just shrug it off and not let them get you down, but we all know how that goes. I wish I could wave a wand over each of these people and let them be fat for a few days. Maybe then they'd get their head out of their ass and have a little compassion. Don't get me wrong. There is a difference between being compassionate and accepting a bunch of excuses. I don't tolerate excuses. I know why I'm fat and I know how I'm getting to be not fat. I also know that I am not omniscient and because of that I don't look at people and cast judgement. Take a good look at yourself. We all have something that someone else considers a flaw.

I Wave my Geek Flag

This post will contain very little about my weight loss progress because I am (still) sick and haven't been able to work out for the past week. As far as my diet, well I'm sick and I am terrible about eating healthy when I feel like crap. I just don't. I haven't gone off the deep end or anything. I didn't binge. I did, however, indulge in the home made bread and chili that my chef husband made me yesterday. (Yes he really is a chef and yes it is extremely difficult to lose weight with a chef for a husband. But he really tries to help.) For right now I am focused on resting and getting better because I have a Crew game tomorrow and I don't want to feel like crap for it. The Columbus Crew is our very own major league soccer (football) team here in Ohio. They are a decent team and I'm taking the boys to see them play D.C. United tomorrow. I'm expecting a win since D.C. has been not having a good season. Anyhoo, I expect I'll feel decent tomorrow because I basically slept today and took Dayquil. The one thing I am doing is dyeing my hair back to my natural color. Turns out my husband isn't fond of the chestnut color even though I used to dye my hair that color back in school. I quote, "I used to like it but I think blonde is more sophisticated and you are nothing if not sophisticated." *blink, blink* When the hell did I become sophisticated? Perhaps I am sophisticated in certain situations but on the whole, not so much. So I think I will share just a bit about myself to make up for having nothing exciting weight-loss wise to report.

• I have mentioned I am a nurse, and I am. I have my bachelors in nursing which I actually just got in December of 2010. Before becoming a nurse I was (in order) an EMT/Firefighter, a Medical Assistant, and an Allergy/ENT nurse. Then I worked as a phlebotomist in a very busy ER for almost three years. I hated my job as a phlebotomist but I enjoyed being back in the emergency setting. I work as an Orthopedic/Trauma nurse now but my goal is to eventually get back to the ER. It's my passion. In about five years I will be going to medical school and I would like to be an Orthopedic/Trauma surgeon who works mainly in the ER. Yes, you may ask me medical questions and I will try my best to answer them however, I am not a doctor so my answers are based on my experience and the extent of my training. 
• I am a knitter, a hand-spinner (with two spinning wheels), and I dye my own yarn/fiber. It is very relaxing. I think it is nothing like yoga and I hate it when people call it the "new yoga." 
• I make my own soap. I enjoy the technical aspect of soap making but moreover I LOVE stuff that smells good and isn't full of preservatives and chemicals. I do not sell my soap but I do give it away all the time. (I will never be able to use it all. Ever.)
• I play the flute. Really well. I played all through school and I absolutely love the damn thing. 
• I am a music whore. I listen to (almost) everything. I don't have a favorite band but among my top are: Breaking Benjamin, Disturbed, Skillet, Three Days Grace, Linkin Park, Creed, Lady Antebellum, Daughtry, and The Band Perry. I love classical and rock the most. I do listen to rap but only Eminem and what I like to call rock/rap (like Hollywood Undead).
• I minored in photography in college. No I am not a professional photographer, but I'm not far off. I also prefer 35mm film to digital. I love working in the darkroom and the creative process that takes place there. 
• I love pit bulls. I have one named Shylo and she is the Best Dog EVER. Pit bulls have a very bad rap and I am all about educating the public on these awesome dogs. 
• I love tattoos. LOVE. THEM. I have to put mine in easily covered places because of my profession but I do have a small rose on my thumb that I love. I am a firm believer that tattoos should be art and not graffiti. Think before you ink is my motto. And go to a reputable artist dammit, it's f--king permanent. 
• I am a very compassionate person but I have ZERO bullshit tolerance. I do not accept flimsy excuses. For anything. The truth may hurt but I think if more people heard it more often, we'd get things straightened out faster. 
• I am not a big tv watcher but I love movies. I have never watched Survivor, Big Brother or any other ridiculous reality tv show. I have watched the Biggest Loser and I liked it but I don't mind if I miss it. I do watch Chopped, and Hell's Kitchen with my husband on the nights I'm off if it's on. I really enjoyed the first three seasons of Sons of Anarchy but I usually work Tuesdays nights so I tend to watch the whole season on dvd after it's over.

So that's a bit about me. Not too bad I hope. At least you know a bit about who I am instead of just another fat chick losing weight.

My thumb tattoo. Yes, those are my real nails. I'm not allowed to have acrylics in the hospital.

In Which I Hike and Narrowly Avoid Death by Lightning

Woke up still sick but I thought, "Well hell, I can be sick at home or be sick out enjoying this GORGEOUS day." I chose option B. My husband and I went to "our" trails and hiked for a little over an hour.

This was the view of my favorite trail. Back when I was running I used to LOVE to run on this.

 I figured that since all the kids were in school and the parents at work, we'd have the trails to ourselves (which I prefer). Uh, no. Some LARGE group decided that today was a good day to bring about fifty people to my little state park. >.<  It was okay. They weren't serious hikers so once I got about half a mile into the trail it was clear.

This was the view from the bridge at the 1.5 mile point. My husband and I took a break here to listen to the water run and watch the leaves drift down to the water. It was so peaceful.

I had planned to take it easy on the trail since I still am not feeling well but once I got going I threw that idea out with about a gallon of sweat. Once we got back to the car I paid for it. I was so wiped and I was having a hard time breathing thanks to all the congestion and lung gunk. After we got home I ended up laying down for about an hour. That's all I could rest for though because my boys had soccer tonight. My oldest, Noah, had a game that was going to decide if they had to go to tournament or not. It was a shut out victory for them (3-0).

Noah is in blue. Shortly after this shot he recovered the ball from the green team and kicked it almost all the way to the goal. He's got one hell of a leg on him.

The boys got both coaches with the water jugs. =)

My Noah (right before he took the water jug and dumped it over his coach).

Malachi is a power striker and right after this picture he took that ball straight to the goal.

Sorry. I'm a very proud mother.
So I got a good workout in and my boys dominated on the field. Thankfully Noah's game ended before the light rain coming down turned into the crazy ass storm that's going on right now. Oh well, that's Ohio for you. If you don't like the weather, wait a minute...it'll change. 

I Hate Being Sick

Well I was hoping to be able to post about another workout that went great but....I've been sick as a dog for the last couple of days. It started three days ago but the first day wasn't too bad so that's when I got back on the treadmill. Then it got really bad. I went to work Monday and Tuesday night because I really dislike calling in sick, even when I am (though last night would have been a great night to call in because my husband took my boys to a soccer game at my university and they said it was a GREAT game. My team won of course.) I felt really bad for my patients. Most of them didn't have to see me blowing my nose a hundred times or hear me sneezing just as often, but a few did and they were more concerned about me than they were about themselves. It was awful but I toughed it out through both nights and now I'm completely wiped. Any ideas I had about working out today went into the bin with the first dozen tissues. The good news is I believe tomorrow will be better and I will be able to get at least a moderate workout in.

I Entertain the Cat

Just got finished walking on the treadmill for thirty five minutes. I'm not going to post how fast or how far I went because I'm feeling very proud of myself for working out and that would make me feel rather pathetic. If I want to feel pathetic I can browse my old running logs from my fire school days and have a good cry at how far I've fallen. For now, I will beam with the holy light of accomplishment. I am drenched in sweat and high on endorphins. I have to work the next two night so I don't know if I will be able to get a workout in but I will definitely try as they do help me sleep more soundly. I have NO problems falling asleep about an hour after a workout as long as I follow it up with a nice hot shower.  SN: during my workout my cat Chloe got on the windowsill, put her two front paws on the treadmill and look at me, saying quite clearly, "What the HELL are you doing?" It was most amusing. If I could have gotten a picture of it, it would be my picture on Facebook right now.

Cough, Sniffle, Wheeze

Woke up to more ickiness. Why does this only happen on my days off? (Granted I only work three days a week so that leaves a lot of days off to get sick, but still.) However, I am DETERMINED  to get a work out in today. So much so that I am actually trying to figure out how to move my music playlists from my iPod to my phone since my iPod is glitchy and I can only hear out of one ear when listening to it. I may just settle for Pandora by phone. Regardless I cannot let all the work my darling and I did last night go to waste. Plus, let's face it, it'll entertain my cat.

Sanctuary Un-Earthed

So I did what I said I would. After my husband got home from work we got to work on my disaster of an office. It's SO awesome now. I have my sanctuary back. My office contains my treadmill, weights, spinning wheels, fiber/yarn stash, my books, my computer/printer and my cat. It's the one place I can go and lock myself into and have that all important thing that adults need so greatly...silence.

This is the view from the door. My desk, bookcase, treadmill, and Chloe's bed.

My "new" bookcase. See those first three shelves? Nursing textbooks, knitting, spinning, and soap making books. I throw in some fiction books at the bottom for Chloe to peruse.

This is where the rest of my fiction books, my fiber stash and various exercise implements are now arranged. That brown and black thing? It's holding most of my yarn stash.

I love my new sanctuary. Most of all, I love that I have NO EXCUSES not to exercise now.

Rambling

Today has been very weird, sort of. I woke up to get ready for the boys soccer games and I noticed that my mouth was sore and my gums and tongue were swollen on the left side. Totally weird. I do have food allergies and my husband did put onions (one of my two allergies) in the lasagna last night (it was our "cheat" meal) but he had sauteed them really well and that usually makes it easier on me since my allergy is more of a sensitivity really (and I know because I was an allergy nurse for four years). Apparently not. So I haven't really felt well and I've been sleeping a lot but now I'm up and I have to work on my office tonight after my husband gets home. He bought me a bookshelf a month ago because the closet shelves in the office won't support the weight of all my books and they're all over the floor of my office, making walking in the office difficult and using the treadmill impossible. He put it together and it's ready to go. I just need to put the books on it. I told him I would probably need help with that though because my back has been hurting me a lot lately. It's a combination of  all the weight of my belly and the stress I put on it at work. It's a catch 22 really. I need to use the treadmill to lose the belly weight but my back hurts when I lift the books trying to get to the treadmill. Just fyi, these aren't paperbacks either. They're all my nursing textbooks (yes I kept them and yes I have looked at them since I graduated). I know I'm whining and making excuses. I will get it done and post a picture of how nice it all looks. My husband might not like it though because I will be taking my computer in the office so I can have Pandora up while I work. Hehehehe. No Facebook for him. Well this was a bunch of rambling wasn't it? =)

Healthy is as Healthy Does

People lose weight on a bunch of different programs. Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, you know the rest, and the ever popular calorie counting. Those don't work for me. The only thing that has ever worked for me has been Atkins (low-carb). I already ate tons of vegetables and chicken so nixing the bread and pasta (that made me feel like shit after eating it anyway) just seemed natural. I knew I was addicted to carbs. One look at me and I've got Pre-Diabetic tattooed across my forehead. I wish I could post a picture to prove it but my husband is technically incompetent and incapable of taking a photograph so you'll just have to trust me. I got the usual flack from the usual people (you know, the ones who haven't done their research and simply regurgitate the nutritional crap they learned in health class or their basic college nutrition class), but it didn't take long for me to convince them. When my family physician gave the thumbs up it really shut them up. I'm not saying Atkins is the way everyone needs to go. Healthy eating comes in many disguises. My usual day includes a lot of veggies (steamed or uncooked, occasionally stir-fried, never deep-fried), lean beef, chicken, and a little bit of cheese. I get my carbs from my veggies. I also do a lot of soups (because I LOVES me some soup).  My cholesterol is down. My blood pressure is totally normal now. And most importantly...I'm losing weight. Steadily losing weight. From around my belly (you know, the really-awful-going-to-kill-you, belly fat). My skin in clear. I'm using less sleeping medicine. The plan is working. I'm looking forward to hitting that sixty pound mark so I can safely start running again. For now I'm walking. This is really hard for me because my instinct, and my muscle memory, is telling me to run but I have to tell myself that it's just not time yet. *Sigh*  I will get there. I will get there. I will get there.

Work is Not Good for Healthy Eating. At Least, Not Where I Work.

Like most fat chicks I have triggers that when, um, triggered cause me to basically inhale any form of readily available food within walking distance. Generally speaking this involves carbohydrates and refined sugars. My number one avoid-at-all-possible-costs-because-I'm-heading-straight-for-the-cookies-if-it-happens is fatigue. Good ole fashion run of the mill tiredness. Long nights at work are the worst. I'm an orthopedics nurse and sometimes I go five or six hours before I sit down even once. You'd think this would contribute to my weight loss but given that my number two trigger is stress...not so much. Work is a deadly combination for my good eating habits. Anyone who's ever worked at a hospital can tell you that most nursing stations are also snack spots. On any given night there's chips, M&Ms, cookies, candy, pretty much whatever you want, available for the taking. You get the point. Tired + Stress = No willpower. I'm thankful that I only work three days a week because if I had to work five, I'd NEVER get my act together.

Oh, and I've forgiven my husband. He meant well and I love him dearly.

My Husband Sucks

So today was the first day since I got back on track that I weighed myself and I've lost 5.2lbs. That's a good start! I'm past the sugar cravings and headaches. Now I'm just pissed at my husband. Not for anything directly related to my eating plan, but for bringing my stepson over for the weekend. His presence always means chaos will ensue. The two boys are enough to handle on a daily basis but a third? When I'm trying to get through the first week? NOT helpful. He knew I'd be pissed and I am. So screw him. On a not-so-bitchy note I colored my hair for the first time in four years. Normally my hair is this completely boring, nondescript shade of dark blonde. Now it is a medium chestnut color. I feel inspired by fall. 

Mmmmm...Queso.

It's been three days back on track and I'm feeling good. Today was the toughest so far and tomorrow will be worse but after that I'll be sugar free and all will be well. I have no energy today because I worked the last three days. I love that I only work three days a week. I do not love working all three back to back. It's exhausting. Twelve hour shifts are great for getting work done but don't allow time for spending time with family or getting any exercise outside of work. My husband has decided that he is also going to change his diet with me. He has about fifty pounds to lose and though he looks great, because he's so tall and broad that you can't really tell he's carry much extra weight, his back is really bothering him. It was also really cold today. Well, cold for me. I have hypothyroidism so I am very sensitive to cold. (And you thought fat chicks were hot all the time.) We were at the soccer fields for the boys' games and we nearly froze our ample tails off. Rude as this may sound, I was looking around and found that I was glad to see that I wasn't the fattest of the soccer moms. Then my husband took us to Applebees for dinner and I had a salad, some classic bone-in wings, and grilled chicken in spicy queso blanco (that's spanish for "white cheese," in case you didn't know). It was delicious and totaled about 15 net carbs so I'm good for the day now. Tomorrow will be the first day I weigh myself since getting back on track and I'm looking forward to seeing how much I've lost.

Whats with that title anyway?

Why Fluffy you ask? Well it's simple really. According to Gabriel Iglesias' Six Levels of Fat (TM), I am level Fluffy. It's just a much nicer way of saying I'm a fat ass. I'm not bitter about it. It's not anyone's fault but my own. Thirteen years ago I was a healthy weight. I ran three to five miles a day and I lifted weights on a regular basis. I was pretty hot, and I do say so myself. Then I got pregnant and at around month seven all hell broke loose. Fast forward two babies, one marriage, three moves, six years of college, and one nursing license later and I'm a big fat cow. Four years ago I lost seventy pounds and was doing great. Then school got really intense and over four years I gained it all back plus some. So now I'm completely shocked when I look at myself because I no longer recognize the girl in the mirror. My face is fat. My feet are fat. My hands are fat. I even think my ears look fat! It's a problem. My husband says I'm beautiful no matter what but let's face it, he's full of shit. My kids say I'm not fat but let's face it, they're also full of shit. I'm done with this fat crap. I don't go to church anymore because I'm afraid that everyone's looking at me and thinking, "Wow, she really let herself go." I feel guilty counseling my patients on diet, exercise, and healthy living when I look like, well, me. All the other nurses on my unit are at a healthy weight with one exception and though they would never say it, they want me to lose weight too. It would make me a better nurse. It would make me a better mom and frankly I would just be happier not having to worry how I look in my clothes. I'm not even worried about the saggy skin stuff. I'm saving up money now for the lower body lift and boob lift I'm going to need. What I'm really looking forward to is running again. It's impossible for me at my current weight but after dropping about seventy pounds I'll progress from walking to running and be back to my old running schedule in no time.