Shifting My Focus

Hello again. It's been a while. Let me start by saying that this blog post has been on my mind for a few weeks now, but I've held it in and isolated myself because I figured that people don't want to hear about the tough sides of weight loss, only the successes. At least, that is what I would prefer to share. Also, by nature I am usually able to find the funny side of even some of the most difficult experiences. Not so much this time. I really can't find a reason to laugh these days about the rut I am stuck in. Also, I really struggle to articulate my experience with weight loss...or weight gain...or weight maintain, which is where I am currently, even though I'd rather not be. Truthfully, I've been afraid to share my experience for a while now, questioning whether or not I'm just making excuses for myself, lacking motivation, or going through a lazy phrase. The reality is, though, that I've been trying to lose weight for years. Sometimes I've been successful, sometimes I haven't been. Either way, it has to some degree occupied my thoughts everyday for as long as I can remember.

So, this post might not be as pretty as I'd like it to be, but there are some little gems I plan on sharing. These are some things that have become very clear to me about my weight loss successes and failures. I recognize that this might not apply to everyone's experience, but, who knows? It might to some.

First of all, I've noticed that the only way we measure physical success is based on just that, the physical. If you lose weight, you're successful. If you don't, you're obviously doing it wrong...eating too many calories, eating gluten, eating refined sugar, not managing your portions, blah, blah, blah. In other words, skinny = healthy. I recognize these as some of my beliefs, some with which I am constantly at war. I find the pendulum swinging between that extreme, to the other extreme, the idea that the physical is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is personality. I don't think that either of these ideas is completely true. For one, success can be measured in many ways when it comes to the body; and two, the physical shouldn't matter to others. But, it SHOULD matter to me! I DO want to feel good, and look good. And naturally, my body really does want those things, too.

I've desperately wanted to just jump on this fitness bandwagon...the lose 100 lbs. in a year bandwagon, count calories, detox, gluten-free, refined sugar-free, dairy free, low carb, raw foods, you name it! I've tried all of these things, by the way, and some of them multiple times, and not all of them at the same time (don't worry). For a while, I'm successful, I'm focused. For a while, I feel a boost of confidence as the weight comes falling off, I buy new clothes, I smile more, men come out of the woodworks, I'm complimented constantly about how good and energetic I look (where are those compliments when I'm not at my best???). I look better, I feel better, and life is grand. After all, it feels great to be successful! And I swear EVERY friggin' time that I'll never go back to how I was. I'll never emotional/stress eat, I'll never "let myself go" to that extreme ever again. Yet somehow the weight loss never sticks.

What I have realized each time I've shed the pounds is this: I'm just as discouraged about my lack of success with weight loss and fear of not being able to lose weight (it can be debilitating), as I am about shedding the pounds, and fearing that I won't be able to maintain it. And I have NEVER been able to maintain it long term. I basically feel screwed on either side. That is why I'm afraid to begin again. Fear of failure...not being able to muster the will power to stay gluten-free for a lifetime, etc., fear of success for a short while, followed by failure on the other end. It's a tough spot to be in. It feels hopeless.

The thought that rings true to me now, and what I know from experience, is that being overweight is a symptom. It is a symptom of imbalance on the inside. That could be hormone imbalance, poor digestion, or some other medical-related issue. For a lot of us, though, the "inside" that I'm referring to is emotional/mental.

I know myself well enough now to openly admit that I'm not always the best at coping emotionally and mentally with the stresses and difficulties of life. Mine certainly haven't been more than the average person. We all have our fair share of difficult experiences - death, sickness, stresses of work, school, relationships, fear of the unknown, feelings of inadequacy. These experiences aren't always, but are sometimes, VERY traumatic, and often in unforeseen ways. They leave an imprint. I know that they have left their mark on me...sometimes in ways that seem beyond repair. With this realization, that my weight is a symptom, I am shifting my focus to something less daunting, something that feels good, something focused on healing, and something NOT focused so much on behavioral changes. Focusing on behaviors is like putting a band-aid on an internal issue. For a while, it will appear to heal, only to reopen under the right pressure. The thing is, life will continue to present challenges, many of which I will not be able to control. I don't want my weight loss to occur simply because life's circumstances are good and because I feel empowered momentarily. That type of success for me in the past has been brief. My goal? I must learn to cope with whatever life throws at me in a way that is healthy and beneficial. In essence, I need to take control of my health for different reasons than because of what I see in the mirror. I must come to recognize the past as a blessing, as a learning experience, and then let it go, and move on. I must accept that there is pain, but that there is also joy, and that's part of the experience, too. What I long for more than weight loss, more than rock hard abs, more than anything, is to feel content on the inside. I feel it in waves, and I welcome it with open arms, but I find myself cycling back through the same old garbage as before.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think that weight loss is meant to be this hard. Yes, it is definitely work, but surely there is meant to be joy in it too. Right now, I'm just not feeling the joy as I struggle to count calories or create ridiculous restrictions for myself. So why torture myself?!?! Do I want to be healthy and happy? Absolutely! Am I where I need to be yet? No! But I'll get there a different route, that I'm sure of.

What I feel deep down in my soul is that when change happens on the inside, THEN the outside reflects how we truly feel about the world and ourselves.

I had an experience a few years back that I have been reflecting on for weeks now. I remember setting some really prestigious goals for myself at a certain period of my life. I worked, and worked, and worked. Being my own worst critic, I couldn't see my progress, I felt like I wasn't succeeding. I didn't give up (even though I really just wanted to give those goals the middle finger). I remember shifting my focus to something else...something that, at the time, felt more attainable. AND it just FELT better. It didn't make me miserable. Rather than focusing so much on where I was lacking, I rather acknowledged it, and then decided to focus more on doing things that made me feel good about life, things that helped me to feel successful. Several months later, I paused one day and suddenly realized that I was accomplishing the goals I had long since put out of my mind, NOT being I was obsessively worrying about them (focusing on the behavior), but because I had shifted my mind to something more meaningful and lasting, something that felt rewarding, and that reduced stress, and boosted my confidence. In other words, fix the internal issues, and the external will follow. This makes more and more sense to me, as I contemplate it.

So, yes, I am on a fitness journey this year. But not by the usual definition. I don't feel like doing another behavior-focused program. I know that others will have lasting success doing a raw foods diet, gluten-free, but at the moment, its not for me. If something is meant to become part of my lifestyle, then surely it should be a joyful process, rather than something that turns me into a royal grumpy pants, that wants to eat everything in sight, and is barely hanging on for dear life. For me, that's not living in the moment...that's a binge session waiting to happen (and it will). Here's what I am doing instead to help me get to the right place on the inside.

1) I've been waking up every morning 30 minutes early before work and reading something uplifting, something that gets me thinking, something that I like. I've found this time for reflection to be really valuable. It helps me start of the day feeling like I can check something off my list, and it gets the creative juices flowing.

2) Exercise really does bring me joy and makes me feel good. I'm changing the way I look at exercise, though. In the past, I have sometimes made myself do certain types of exercise because I wanted to look a certain way, or envied a certain type of athlete. It can be miserable making yourself do a certain type of exercise that naturally you just suck at. So why do it, then?! I'm good at swimming, and I love it. So that's what I'm doing. It makes me feel good on the inside and on the outside, and provides lots of good contemplation time. I also find that I think more positive thoughts when I'm doing it, because I know I can. I need that right now. My plan is to add yoga to my exercise routine soon, and I'm excited to see how that goes for me this time around!

3) A couple of principles have really empowered me lately. First, no one else can do this for me. It is up to me. Even though I might feel powerless, the choice is still mine. I can act, and I can change. Second, this is MY journey, and its okay if it doesn't look like anyone else's. Third, its not a race, so I need to pace myself and be patient and forgiving. Fourth, food is NOT protection!!!

4) I am trying to practice mindfulness: by a) being more mindful of how I use my time, and get rid of silly distractions, b) being mindful of how I feel in different situations, c) being mindful of what I'm doing in the moment, rather than thinking ahead to the future, or mulling over the past, and d) being mindful of my actions, such as my tendency to be in autopilot mode when I do certain tasks.

5) Journal writing is something I've been good at in the past, and is something that I would like to start doing again. For me, it's like exhaling after I've been holding my breath for too long. It provides so much insight and relief. I should really start this again...

6) I am eating pretty healthy, with the occasional slip-up. I'm just trying not to freak out over food these days. That mindset is really detrimental to me.

7) I have an ongoing list of little projects that I'm working on. Some of these are crafts, and others involve organizing a certain part of house. What I like is that these things are meaningful and help me feel successful when I can cross them off my list. Also, I've noticed that creating something new or improving a talent, helps me to feel more confident about myself. It reminds me that I've got some useful skills.

8) As often as possible, I am trying to make time for people that I love, people that I can REALLY laugh with, people that REALLY know me, people that remind me that I'll be ok, and I'll make it (Mandy, Maureen, and many others!!!)

9) This mindset is really important: I acknowledge that I have to face my challenges, rather than act like they aren't there, and confront the thoughts that sometimes creep in. I have to be open to where the journey leads, and I have to be open to trying new things.

10) I love essential oils! I use them everyday for different things such as stress, anxiety, fatigue. A few years back I probably wouldn't have been open to trying them out, but my experiences have taught me try new things...and what do you know? They've worked great and have been really fun and interesting to research.

11) Lastly (this actually should probably be #1), I am working to strengthen my relationship with God. I can't do this alone, and realize each day that I need his help. I know that he is the one that can get me to where I should be as long as I make him a part of this.

Does anyone have any other ideas or recommendations?

You know, I do think that this year will be good for me. Hard, but good.  I'm having to retrain my brain to focus less on the physical. It's so hard because of comments I hear daily, or things I see on Facebook or on TV. Right now, truthfully, it's even hard for me to hear about the body image goals and successes of others because I habitually begin the comparison to myself. By their measuring stick, I'm failing. I've cried about that a lot lately. And then I stop and remind myself that my goal is different, but that I'm on a good path. It's going to take me a little while, but I'll get there.

On "Racing"

Racing day.  Again.  Last week Maureen and I "wogged" a 5k to support a local pre-school.  Maureen's competitive spirit led the charge as we worked to finish not-dead-last.  Today Maureen, Leigh and I participated in the Art Tudhoe 10K in Shelburne, Vermont.  Perk?  The route was beautiful,  running parallel to Lake Champlain amidst peak leaf peeping season.  Drawback? The route was intended for running.   

Have I mentioned that I'm not a runner, that this is my second  road "race" (the first being last week), that school-day nightmares are dredged whenever running is involved?  Well, let me mention that now.  Any person who was overweight in elementary and/or high school will have a small place reserved in mental hell for their time served in Physical Education. 

I remember, for example, hanging from the bar for dear life in a failed attempt to do one, measly pull-up.  I remember "running" the bi-yearly mile, sucking in life-giving breath as Mr. Braves waited, stopwatch in hand.  On that merciless gravel track I thanked God first that I could still breath and second that my classmates had crossed the finish line eons ago and already turned into the locker room.  I could go on, but let's just say my past with organized exercise is, well,  jaded. 

You can imagine my feelings then  as Leigh and I slowly pulled in and parked before the mob of svelte runners who were warming up, stretching and securing fanny packs with mini-water bottles  holstered to their waists.  I wanted Leigh to reverse her gears and speed out of the nightmare I had tactfully and intentionally avoided for years.   I would of happily run in that moment.  Away. 

But, alas, this was to be our third challenge.  So when one of the runners mistook Leigh and I, who were speaking to each other in low whispers, as the ladies manning the water cooler (for who could imagine these two well-built women had racing numbers neatly pinned under their sweatshirts), I knew we were pegged. 

Maureen arrived soon after.  A word about Maureen.  In our  1312 (one year, three friends, twelve challenges) threesome, Maureen is her own animal.  She's set the bar.  The girl's nearly lost fifty pounds.  And speaking of pounds, she pounds the pavement every day pushing her double stroller with a fiery fierceness reserved for warriors and mothers of more than one toddler.  Spoiler alert: Maureen ran all 6.2 miles.  RAN IT!  The girl is a phenom! 

But back to Leigh and I.  We ran it too.  We ran the first 1/8th of a mile and the last 1/8th of a mile.  In-between?  Oh, just the usual:  shin-splints, hip aches, foot discomfort, fever blisters…through the rain we trudged on.  Sometimes we lost ourselves in conversation.  At one point, all the runners reached the three mile mark, turned around, and passed us, heading with determination to the finish line before them, behind us.  One-by-one, we watched them run with masks of determination.  One-by-one they passed us in the opposite direction until there were no more.  There we were.  Two women and a muddied racing route.  Oh, and the racing staff who wrung out their shirts, wiped their brows, and kicked at puddles waiting for us, the caboose, to reach the 3 mile marker, pivot and trudge back 3 miles to the finish.  They were kind though, that staff.  They offered us water.   And when we told the one on the bike who thought all the racers had reached the three mile marker and turned back for the finish line - that was until he stumbled up on us - we'd gladly turn back before the 3 mile marker so he'd not have to wait, he encouraged us.

"No," he said kindly, "you've got to do it all otherwise you'll regret it."  Clearly he didn't know us.  But do-it-all we did.  In fact, after we hit the 3 mile and turned back, we were followed by the kind man on the bike and the man in the car taking down all the racing signs.  So there Leigh and I walked in all our glory with a cavalcade following behind us, occasionally coaxing us, "to the right please," whenever we veered too far to the road's middle.

We laughed, we chatted, we walked, we complained: therapy.  And nearly two hours later we jogged.  We actually jogged to the finish.  Leigh had, what she later described, as a Forest Gump moment.  Imagine it with me for a moment: Forest Gump is a child.  Boys are throwing rocks.  Jenny is yelling, "Run, Forest, Run."  He runs like a rooster, his legs straight and unyielding, his braces holding them hostage when low-and-behold the braces defect and fall bolt-by-bolt to the wayside.  And then Forest runs.  Oh does he run.  In like manner, Leigh and I began laboring awkwardly until our bodies took over and we hit some otherworldly stride.   We ran.  We ran right to the finish line, the staff following us up the rear, Maureen and a few staffers cheering us on.  Cue Chariots of Fire…slow the tempo a bit more.  There.  That's right.

Maureen, Leigh and I bracing for the 10K

We finished!  Do you hear me?  We finished! Then and there Maureen, Leigh and I walked by the winners circle, where medals dangled from athletic necks and settled cozily upon athletic chests.  En route to our cars, we paused just for a moment to recognize our achievements.  Maureen ran the 10k in 1 hour and 14 minutes.  Leigh and I finished the 10k (phew).  There may have been a couple tears.  There was probably some shameless group-aggrandizement.  But there is no doubt that three women made giant strides on a little rainy route today on the shores of Lake Champlain.   For me, some childhood insecurities were overcome.  Today I moved as one body - though I was certainly the slow and nearly palsied appendage -  toward a finish line.  I completed the race, if that's what we want to call it, with two of my best friends among seasoned athletes who have trained for these moments all their life.  I wasn't alone today beating a graveled track watching a wearied phys ed. teacher squint against the sun.  Today I was a racer among other racers.  Today I was just another number in a sea of numbers, and it felt…good!

"Here Here" to challenge #3

Lunch Bundles Give Away

Recently we reached out to a local Vermont company, Lunch Bundles, because we wanted to tell them how much we love their product, and how much they are helping us achieve our goals. I LOVE the "Decker" and the "Powerfood" packs. This is such an awesome company, and you can read more about them here.

They were so excited to be a part of our journey and donate some of their products to our followers.  Packed with super foods and 10-16grams of protein, they are just plain yummy! I eat them all the time- and my daughter loves them too! Lunch Bundles has donated a Superpack (6 Lunch Bundles) and an absolutely adorable insulated lunch tote to the winner of this give away. This is an Instagram Giveaway, so you need to have an instagram account to qualify.  Here are the rules:

1. Make sure you are following Maureen on Instagram @fitvermontmama AND also follow Lunch Bundles @lunchbundles

2. Share this giveaway picture with the hashtag #fitvermontmama so I can see!

3. Winner will be announced Monday  October 6th! @lunchbundles will mail their product directly to you and you can enjoy some yummy, healthy food!

We are so grateful for the support we receive on our journey. Thank you all so much!

Realistic Expectations: Losing Weight

I jokingly texted Mandy a picture of my filthy kitchen the other day and told her that the title of my next blog post would be "Realistic Expectations"... Apparently, I am a woman of my word.

Let me keep it real. My house is MESSY. At any given moment there are 3-4 loads of laundry that need to be done, dishes in the sink, crushed goldfish crackers in the carpet, and toys everywhere. It is just not as clean as I would like it to be. But things have changed for me in the past few months. Those 2 hours that I might have spent tidying up the house each morning, are now used pushing a double stroller and sweating my butt off (literally). That extra energy that I might have put into deep cleaning the bathroom, or doing the dishes has been sucked up into planning and preparing healthful meals for me and my family. My time and energy is invested in something other than keeping my house clean. So it is not always very clean. 

THIS IS SOMETIMES VERY HARD FOR ME TO ACCEPT. 

After a day of experimenting with new recipes, cooking for a get together, and feeding my family, I was exhausted and went to bed with the kitchen looking like this. No, really, I did- and I slept like a baby. The next morning, I took this picture, cried a little,  and then ignored it and went out and did 4 miles. Then, I got home, got the kids happy and situated, and finally began tackling the kitchen. That is the reality of losing weight. At least, that is my reality. 

But my expectations need to be realistic. I am not super woman. I do not want to resent my family when they make messes. I do not want to use precious late night sleep time scrubbing my kitchen floor. So I do the best I can,  pray that my friends, family, and people who stop by, will forgive me and not judge me for the mess, and move forward. 

Stop punishing myself for not being perfect. 

This is perhaps the biggest lesson I have learned during this weight loss journey. Self- acceptance and self-love. I am not a perfect person. So I am not going to be perfect when it comes to losing weight. But I can try, everyday. But some mornings, I wake up, and all I want to do is eat everything in sight. Let me emphasize: EVERYTHING IN SIGHT. 

I have had a lot of people asking me what I have been eating, how have I been successful in losing weight so quickly? Its not one thing. Its lots of things, I think. 

Here are some of my thoughts about the REALITY of losing weight:

I eat mostly whole foods- lean meats, veggies, fruits, some dairy, nuts/seeds. I try to keep my caloric intake less than 2,000 a day, but most of the time I think I am between 1800-2000. I have days where I watch my carbs ( I might do that for 2-3 days in a row) and then I have total cheat days where I eat what I want. 

I am listening really closely to my body, and just being really disciplined about whatever I am doing. I pay attention to how I feel in the morning. Some mornings, I wake up, and I know that eating is not going to be an issue that day. I know that I am not going to want to eat everything in sight, and I will make good choices, and not be tempted by everything. And then some mornings I wake up and I know that I am going to STRUGGLE all day with wanting to eat EVERYTHING. On those days where I know that I will struggle, I count calories. I eat whatever it is that I want, but I cannot go above 2,000 calories. On days when I have all the will power in the world, I eat super clean , whole foods, and don't stress about calories, because I know I will be ok... I am having a day today where I want everything. So I am watching calories.

 Deviled eggs. So simple, so delicious, and a great source of protein. 

Beet and cabbage Asian slaw with sauteed shrimp.

Sweet potato buns. Salmon burger with sweet potato and sauteed peppers. 

I know that is SUPER ambiguous. But it is what I am doing. Just learning to listen to my body, and detach emotionally from food. Its a process. And it takes a lot of effort. I always feel like for me, losing weight is like a part time job. I have to be slightly obsessed-- in the sense that I have to think about it a lot, and plan, and talk about it, and pay attention, etc. I am not obsessive in an unhealthy way, I just dedicate A LOT of time and energy to it. Its hard because that feels so wrong. But you know what- I am so much happier and have more energy to give to my kids, and so it all works out. They are happy and healthy, and have a mom who feels happy and confident. I think that is better than having a stressed out depressed mom who feels really bad about herself. I was mentally ready to make it a HUGE priority. It won't always be that way...I know I will hit my goal weight and then be able to relax and go into maintenance mode, and learn what that means to me. But I know that this is what I will focus on in a big way for the next year. And I am ok with that.

Here are some things I eat/snack on:

I make sweet potatoes a lot-- pictured above, i posted the recipe on my instagram my fave way to eat them ( @fitvermontmama) string cheese carrots and hummus tzaziki on everything almonds dark chocolate gluten free crackers- like rice crackers...but these are a treat

I try really, really hard not to eat wheat or gluten. It makes me feel sick when I do. I am learning so much about how to cook and bake without it, and that has been really fun and exciting.

I had a LOT of weight to lose. And I know as I get smaller, I will have to work harder to get the weight off. so I might have to change things up again and again. I am ok with that. This is a process and the most important thing is to just keep trying every day. If I do that, I will learn what works, and I will see more and more success. Healthy living is like anything else- I have to practice it, if I want to do better.

I am now 45lbs down!! So close to 50lbs! I can't wait to get there!

My husband is also an incredibly huge support. He helps with the cooking, he watches the kids if I want to exercise at night, he does chores and dishes after a long day at work, he listens to me talk constantly about what I have achieved, my goals, the .2 lbs I lost, everything. He is my biggest cheerleader, and that makes a huge difference for me. He sees how happy this is making me, and is so supportive. I am so grateful for him. 

The REALITY is, I just keep trying, everyday. I just keep learning, everyday. I refuse to give up. The most important thing I am learning is, if I make a bad food choice and GORGE myself, I just get over it. I don't punish myself, I don't binge for 5 days (which is what I have done for the past 4 years because I have felt so guilty about gaining so much weight), and I just move on. That has been the biggest change, and I think why I have been so successful. Because I make mistakes ALL THE TIME. But I just forgive myself and keep trying.

My realistic expectation is that I am not perfect, and so my weight loss journey will NOT be perfect. And accepting that has made all the difference in the world.

And my house can stay messy. For now.

On the Closet (you know the one):

A few things have changed over the last forty-seven days.  Firstly, I've parted ways with refined sugar, wheat, and dairy.  Secondly, I've longed a little each day for refined sugar, wheat, and dairy.  Thirdly, I've lost, and don't especially care to find, 15 pounds!

And so I've been trying on all the clothes in my closet that are out of style and too small.  The ones I've been storing, pushed against the wall on that most unreachable shelf.  That's why my closet resembles a diva's.  Clothes are strewn in colorful piles, dresses hang precariously by one shoulder, and shoes (the impractical ones I can barely balance on) lie listless on the floor in compromising angles. 

Why do we do this to ourselves?  Why do we cling to the clothes that grow tighter around our burgeoning bellies until the buttons, strained, become weapons of mass destruction?  Maybe we've popped open the tent and pushed the polls through, but none of us ever intends to hammer the stakes into the undulating lush ground of Fatsville.  We're just visiting.  Fly by night.  Round trip.  But when we arrive, we're tired, hungry, and just want to nap for a bit. 

I've been napping for years.  Not because I'm lazy.  Let's throw that stereotype out the window.  Because I hurl myself into my work.  Because I have three kids under five.  Because I eat when I'm tired.  Because I'm always tired.   Because the food industry cons the FDA into approving addictive substances (ie: sugar).  Because nothing I try ever works.  Because the U.S. is a culture where high-fat foods and low activity is the number one lifestyle.  Because I live in this culture. 

But in the depths of my closet there is hope.  

My closet is disheveled.  It smells slightly mildewed (from a load that was in the washing machine a day too long).  It's dark and deep.  But in that closet there is a pair of jeans.  The pair flung in the unreachable corner in a moment of haste years ago.  That pair of jeans fits.  Halleluiah.   The turbulent flight back from Fatsville is panning out.  15 pounds.  Gone. 

On plus size shopping:

Third grade.  That was the first year shopping for clothes became, let's say, challenging. 

 Plus size clothing for girls and women has come a long way.  And still, it hasn't come that far.  I remember looking for jeans that would fit my waist.  They tended to be size "Misses."  There I'd stand, feet in the denim's knee section, six inches of Jean trailing on the floor. 

                "We can hem these," my mom would say optimistically as she rolled the pants up and turned me toward the mirror.  Ahhh, the horrors.  There I stood short and portly, the stunning physique of a cheerful garden gnome.

                Somehow I survived one fashion horror after another during those early years simply by being a Vermonter.  I've known plenty of transplants who've settled in Vermont only to be appalled at the State's general lack of fashion sense.  But because the prom queen wore sweat pants, her hair barely brushed into a sustainable ponytail, we were all safe.  There was no point of reference.  Except for Teen and Seventeen Magazine.  Ah, I spent hours reading through the pages, pouring over the "Nightmare(s) of the Month," which inevitably chronicled the events leading to an unsuspecting pre-teen starting her period clad in white from head-to-toe, something straight out of a Freddy Krueger flick.  It was there I saw skinny girls flashing dazzling smiles sporting leggings and slouch socks;  leotards snug under denim overalls; tartan skirts, knee socks  and sporty converse sneakers.  Oh, and then there was the prom issue.  One word: puffy sleeves. Don't even get me started.

                But when I headed to Penney's with my mom it was always the same.

                "We can hem these."

                Blink, blink.

            When stores began adding plus sized clothing to their collection the outcome was, well, dismal.  While cute styles hung on the size 0-12 racks, the "Womens" rack was a startling raucous combination of bead work, rhinestones, ruffles and feathers - well, maybe not feathers, but think garish .  There was, to be fair,  the occasional Golden Girls-esque pants suit for the active retiree, but that was about it.  It was in those days that I became a scavenger.  I 'd find tees that could be stretched, elastic waist bands that could be hidden, and denim that could be de-be-dazzled.  It was a gift.  It still is a gift.

                The first month of the 1312 challenge is drawing to a close.   I haven't eaten sugar, flour, or dairy for twenty-eight days, my self-determined eating plan (http://whole30.com/).  Maureen is an animal with her Bob Revolution Duallie.  Leigh is forging ahead with exercise and prescribed  vitamins and supplements.  We're doing this. 

                As for the future of fashion?  When I fit into the 0-12 rack, I'm wearing every fashion I was ever denied, beginning with a great pair of jeans, no hemming necessary.

Happy Feet, Strong Legs

We had so much fun doing our challenge that we decided to do it again the following week. We even improved upon our time and did it about 15 minutes faster than the first time. Yahoo! We are all just chugging along on our individual fitness endeavors. Maureen got up the gumption to run intervals on her 4 mile walk this week. Mandy has been getting up at 6:30 AM to get her workout in, and Leigh is being a crazy pants and hiking the Ledges again this evening. Awesome!

We thought you would enjoy a video of us huffing and puffing on the way up...

Aren't we charming when we exercise?

And why not post 2 incredibly ridiculous pictures of Maureen leaping for joy once we reached the top? 

Ain't no shame in my game!

And in a moment of fitness love, we "gracefully" staged this picture of our feet over-looking Addison County. These are happy feet, and strong legs that are carrying us along on this journey.

Challenge #2 

 We have had a lot of interest from local community members, and people not so local, to join our monthly challenges. We are thrilled that others want to challenge themselves and improve their physical fitness!!  So we will be opening up our challenges each month to anyone who wants to join. Challenge #2 is a swimming challenge. We will be gathering at Mt. Abe high school pool on Saturday September 13th at 9am to swim a mile. We will play some rocking music and swim as much of that mile as we can in an hour. Please join us! If you have questions, feel free to email fitvermontmama@gmail.com.

I may not be ____, but I am ___.

I often find that with the beginning of any journey, I am prone to reflect on the past for a bit. I have had a flood of memories wash over me these last few days. Most of them I usually avoid discussing in causal conversation for obvious reasons. Some of them are funny, some of them not so much. Either way, as my friend Mandy stated, this journey that my friends and I are on is real and raw. In all honesty, it has been painful.

I was cognoscente at an early age that I was bigger than other kids. Starting at about the age of 6, I began to pack on the pounds. When I was 10 and expressed some worry about my weight to one of my friends, she said that I just had a lot of "baby fat" and shouldn't worry too much. Nice try, Jenny! Jenny was trying to be nice, but I knew better. Another memory that I am now able to laugh about...I remember discovering with excitement, a freshly baked pie in the kitchen one day sometime during Middle School. As I approached it with great joy, anxiously determining if I would go for a big or bigger slice, suddenly my younger (then, profoundly obnoxious) brother jumped out from around the corner with his hands held together as if he were holding a gun, and yelled, "Step away from the pie!!!" I was mortified. Utter shame and embarrassment. What followed is unclear, but I'm fairly certain he got what he had coming.

During Elementary and Middle School, what I lacked in physical appearance, I made up for in other ways. I was funny, and friendly, and learned to sniff out people's true intentions from a mile away. I managed to snag a few great friends along the way.

The thing that truly saved me through Middle School and High School is that I decided to join a swim team. I had always loved the water, so my parents encouraged me to try out for a local club team. From the second I stepped foot in the water, I knew I had found my natural habitat. I was hooked! I swam competitively from age 12-19. I never truly got my weight under control during those years, most likely due to the excessive (and intentional) carb-loading. I remained on the more plump side; however, swimming made me very strong and boosted my confidence because, as it turned out, I was REALLY good at it. While I wanted to be thin, it wasn't something that brought me a lot of grief during those years because I was so active. In fact, I would go so far as to say that I prided myself on my swimming abilities in spite of my weight. All too often, I would stand on the block prior to a big race and look out at the crowd of people. More often then not, I interpreted their gazes to mean that I didn't stand a chance next to all of the slim, female versions of Michael Phelps. Boy did I show them! I managed to prove them wrong, time and time again.

The emotional burden I feel from being overweight has increased with time. For the past decade, my focus has primarily been my education and now my career. I have had a successful career, but what do I truly have to show for it? I'll answer that...a tire around my waist and a ridiculous amount of stress. I'm in my early 30's, unmarried, with no children, so I spend the vast majority of my time working. About 3 years ago, I decided that I needed a change, so through proper nutrition and exercise, I lost about 70 lbs. I looked great, and felt great, but couldn't seem to get rid of the fat girl in my head, the one that is prone to emotionally overeat. Several really difficult experiences ensued, including the suicide of a close friend, a really bad break-up, and other disappointments that eventually resulted in my not being able to hold it together. Something had to give...so it was my weight. The fat girl in my head won. Since then, I have worked off and on to get my weight under control. I have tried so many things...P90X, detox, gluten-free, sugar-free. I'm really good at all of these things for usually 2-3 months, but then burn out usually. It has been so frustrating!!!

It has finally dawned on me. How can I change my behavior on the outside, if I don't quite have it together on the inside? And that right there, folks, is why I have yet to have lasting results! I recognize that I am currently stuck in some very negative thought patterns, patterns that I desperately want to break. I have to and I need to if I am going to change my lifestyle. These thoughts are impeding me from seeing myself for who I truly am now, and what I can become in the future.

So, here is what I have to say to those negative thoughts...

1) I may not have super skinny, petite legs, BUT I DO have some pretty amazing calves. And guess what...they're entirely genetic. No calf-raises needed here! I would post a picture, but I need to shave my legs. For now, I will leave it to the imagination.

2) I may not be the person that you want to see in a racing swimsuit, BUT I AM definitely the person you want to have with around if you are a) drowning, b) lost at sea, c) pretty much doing anything in water.

3) I may not be thin, BUT I AM strong (see what I did to that medicine ball above). I may have put the weight back on, but I've seen what is underneath this layer (or multiple layers) of chub before, and it is a lot of muscle! I'm excited to see it again!

4) I may not fit the world's standard of beauty, BUT I AM a good, honest person that has wonderful friends and family. I have a great life that brings me joy. What more could a person ask for, really?

5) I may not be "there" yet, BUT I AM trying. And little by little I am succeeding as I make small, but consistent changes.

How often we define ourselves by saying, "I am..." or "I am not..." These are powerful statements and can truly impact our attitudes and ultimately our decisions. I DEEPLY know that what we do on the outside is merely a reflection of what is going on in the inside. That is a bit daunting to me at times, but I'm personally exhausted of the "band-aid" approach to weight-loss. It's not lasting. And I want lasting. Who's with me?!?!

Now, I've given you a few of my "I may not be ____, but I am ___" statements. What are yours???

Why This Isn't Another "Monday"

Diet starts Monday. The ultimate excuse to eat whatever I want. A phrase I have often used as I guiltily shove my face with all my favorite eats. My husband has heard me say it a million times.  I would look at him and say,

"Ok, I better enjoy this treat now, because on Monday everything will be different. I won't be eating any of this. I mean it this time. This is my last Hoo-rah!" 

The first 15 times I did that my husband lovingly said "You got this honey! Good for you. Monday will be great! Whatever makes you happy!" My sweet husband, who loves me, and loves my body through thick and thin, through all shapes and sizes, just wants me to be happy. And has been supportive of my countless weight loss endeavors. One Saturday a few months ago as I was guiltily and unhappily chattering away to him about my health plans for "Monday" while simultaneously shoving a donut in my mouth, he looked at me and said " One last Hoo-rah, eh?" He meant it as a loving joke. I saw the truth. And I was mortified. Something needed to change. I needed to stop waiting for Monday to change my life. 

I have been living the past 4 years on one long "last Hoo-rah". Sure, I have honestly made real attempts to cold turkey (pun intended) my way out of poor health choices. And my heart really has been in the right place. So why wasn't I successful? 

I was a chubby child and teenager. Like Mandy, I was funny, witty, friendly and cheerful. I had lots of friends and was happy. I didn't know what a calorie was until I was 17 years old. The summer before my senior year of high school I worked part time in the business office of our local YMCA. The ladies in the business office were doing the latest popular diet- low carb, high fat. Honestly, at 230lbs as a teenager, I was really just motivated because what they were eating looked good. I had never really thought about losing weight. They were eating pepperoni and cheese and sugar free jello with cool whip. Yes please! So I jumped in. I lost 35lbs in 2 months. I began learning about health and fitness and started running and exercising while watching calories for the rest of the year. I lost 70lbs my senior year of high school. I stayed between 160-180lbs for about 9 years. I worked out hard, hiking and running (I even ran a marathon in 2009!!)  and ate healthy foods. I was diligent and worked hard to stay trim. But I had fun and ate ice cream and pizza in moderation. I had found some balance- but still had to be committed to my health.  When I got married in 2010, I had a foot injury which prevented me from exercising for several months. I had just graduated college and I was working long hours while my husband finished his last year of school, and quite frankly, I got lazy. Four years and 2 babies later, I've gained 100lbs, and at 270lbs I was 30-40lbs heavier than I had ever been in my life.  I was crushed. I had really poor self esteem for the first time in my life. I couldn't believe after years of maintaining weight loss, I had gained so much weight.

Halfway through my pregnancy with my second child, who is now 8 weeks old, something changed within me. I had the "no more Mondays" epiphany.  I realized that as a wife, and a mom, my self-destructive-waiting-for-Monday emotional eating, was not working for me. Not at all. 

I began making small changes in April of this year. Because I was pregnant it was easy for me to do things in moderation. Drink water instead of juice or milk. Eat carrots instead of chips.  Go for short walks. Stuff like that. Then in early summer Mandy, Leigh, and I began the process of making our 1-3-12 brainchild a reality. At the end of July this year, 6 weeks postpartum, I started walking more and more in preparation for our first challenge. I started really watching what I was eating. I have lost 30lbs. It feels great. So how do I keep up this momentum? How do we stay committed when we know that we have a significant amount of weight to lose, and it is going to take months, or years? 

Vegetables, people. 

5 miles!!! It doesn't take long to change-- I have been shocked at how strong my body is becoming. 

Last week, after 3 weeks of great choices, exercise, and a super positive attitude I felt the familiar "you deserve to eat that brownie" demon taunting and tempting me. It had been a hard week- my husband was working long hours, the baby wasn't sleeping well at night, I was stressed and tired. I was scared of failing and not achieving my goals- AND  I was scared of being successful!l I wanted to eat food to comfort my emotions. Let me clarify: I wanted to SNARF my stress, anxiety, and fear. Allow me to be even more specific: I wanted to 'Las Vegas Buffet'  my way through every single darn feeling. After two days of poor choices, I sobbed to my husband that I was failing yet again at all my goals. I wanted to throw in the towel. I felt so defeated. My husband, my cheerleader, my best friend, the most logical and analytical man I know, reassured me that all was not lost.

He told me to think of my progress in terms of green and red. He asked me to imagine the past month as a calendar. For every day that I made good choices and exercised put a big green X. For those days where I could have done better put a big red X. As I visualized that he asked how many green and how many red X's. I realized that I had 3 weeks of green and 2 measly days of red. I quickly realized that I did not want to continue sabotaging all of my hard work just because I didn't do as well as I wanted for two days. Imagine that. Self-sabotage was not only illogical, it was downright dumb. 

Can I just tell you, this was a total breakthrough for me?!? This is what it means to change your "lifestyle". This is what it means to stop living for "Monday". This is real accountability. This is REAL LIFE. Good days, bad days, and everything in between. There is no excuse good enough to not make my health a top priority. I am sick of excuses. I am sick of Monday. 

Mandy, Leigh, and I are gearing up for a year of good health. 12 challenges. This is such an adventure! We are excited. It is going to take hard work- and a lot of motivation and determination. And when we make mistakes, we have to realize that all is not lost. And we have to be honest with ourselves. And we HAVE to love ourselves. And perhaps that is our biggest challenge. Self-love. Do we love ourselves enough to eat good food everyday, and be active and exercise? Do we love ourselves enough to realize this isn't deprivation or punishment? We are setting ourselves free of our addiction to unhealthy lifestyle choices. And it feels AWESOME. And it feels HARD. And it feels SCARY. But mostly it feels AWESOME!!! 

So here's to no more "Mondays"!! Who's with us?!?

1 Year. 3 Friends. 12 Challenges.

OR

On beginning the weight-loss journey…again

Maybe it was Jake Sedano, some local kid one year my senior, yelling, "Hey, thunder-thighs," as I pedaled my bike south on north street, sweat dripping from my hairline.  Or my grandmother, a skilled seamstress, pulling measuring tape around my torso, quietly shaking her head as she cut out  tissue paper extensions to add to each pattern piece.  Maybe it was my friend's mother pulling me aside conspiratorially, begging me to diet.  Maybe it was one of these moment, I can't be sure.  But I do know that before I turned ten I was sure of two things:  I was big.  Big was bad.

Every moment thereafter was colored by these two revelations.  I was smart, so that helped.  Fat and smart is okay.  Fat and funny is okay, too.  So I was smart.  Sometimes I was funny.  And so I had friends.  The girls weren't threatened by me, and I was a pal to the boys.  Plus, I was connected to all the cute girls.  A pal with benefits.

But this isn't about high school.  I mean,  I'm thirty-five.  I've graduated!  It's just that anyone who has struggled with weight (or anything for that matter) knows that the struggle is played out on the stage of those formative years.  Since then, I've been working to redraft my very own logical fallacy: I am big.  Big is bad. Therefore, I am bad.

And so I stare down the barrel of the gun once again.   Like I said, I'm thirty-five.  I have three girls under the age of five.  I have a husband.  A good one.  I have an advanced degree, a great job, a couple dogs, a cat, a handful of chickens.  And I have weight bearing down on me.  I've tried every cleanse, every fitness app, every popular diet.  So why will this attempt at weight-loss be different?  Because this time "I" am "we".

Who are "we"?  I've known Maureen now for two years and Leigh less than one.  We met at church.  More specifically, we met as a group for the first time by the church piano, hymnals clutched in hands.  We were slotted to sing none other than the upbeat traditional Christmas carol "In the Bleak Midwinter."  And though we practiced feverishly - laughing at the caged, closeted Diva in us all - the song proved prophetic: the Sunday we were scheduled to perform arrived in a deep bank of impassable snow.  But that carol became the platform upon which our friendship was forged.

And now, "I" am "we".  Three strong.  All with varying backgrounds.  All in our thirties.  All overweight.  All with the same goal: To find and secure good health.  This, therefore, is the plan:  We have one year to make significant health gains in our life on and off the scale.  Each month we create a physical challenge.  This month we hiked a local peak.  Next month, we'll swim laps for a determined period of time and distance.  The month after that?  Who knows!  Each month's challenge will be a little harder than the one before.  1.3.12.  One year.  Three friends. Twelve challenges.

 And how will this end?  We don't know, but as one writer writes, "The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on."  So here goes nothing.  The handle has been turned.