What should give... What should give...

This weeks challenge is to give up something that is unhealthy. Initially I thought of all of the fat-loaded, calorie ridden foods out there. Oh how I love doughnuts, fries and candy! Instead this challenge inspired both lent and life in general.

I'm a fretter you see. I stress, over think, grate my teeth and scream in my head so much that I make myself nauseous on a semi regular basis. Jenn has told me on more than one occasion to, "Quit! You're not allowed to do that here," meaning to drive myself crazy with the racing thoughts that keep me up late into the night. I am usually the poke'ee you see.

I tend to let every little comment get under my skin. The verbal equivalent of a bot fly then festers and grows and patiently waits until I'm horizontal desperately trying to rest and recover. At this time one single little cut erupts into a room sized moth that beats me about the head and face until about an hour before my alarm goes off. It could be any random expression that I take a little more personal than intended, or something I forgot or am trying not to forget. This moth haunts me until I am so frustrated that I hate. I hate that i still am thinking about it. I hate that I can't sleep because I'm thinking that I'm thinking I can't sleep. I understand that the last sentence is awkward; a true insomniac could read it like a child's book.

So I'm giving up hate. Not just hate, I'm giving up the stress and the victim dance. To be the poker instead of the pokee. For 40 days, the drama is not mine. I will say what's on my mind and not hide behind a smile, regretting that I didn't stick up for myself. When something gets under my skin I won't get mad, I will take a deep breath, wait the 90 seconds it takes to let the adrenalin slow down and say to myself, "I never did really mind the little things," and go on with my life. I hope that this will lead to less stress eating and less binge wine drinking. It's worth a try at least.

Competitor!

I got a restart. Most of it I attribute to prayer, “Dear God, please don’t let these 21 year old girls beat me.” I CAN’T lose to skinny girls in their early 20’s. While running with PFC Christopherson, I'm thinking, 'I sped up, how is it that I can still hear her behind me?' but what I say is, "You better get up here!" They push me, I push them and recent push has landed me right back at the 19:10 2 mile run. I thought it would take a few more months to take a minute off my run. Woot Woot! My goal is back down to 17:30 by April.

When I started running with Justine in November, I just knew that with my gluttony and general laziness, I’d lost over a minute on my run. I was sad and used it as an excuse on our 3.1 mile run. As we ran we got slower and slower, then we stopped running all together.

The girls continued to fail their Run. Sad. So, through their misery, Lt Seckel pushed them into agreeing to run/work out 3 days a week with him. When he got busy, or was running late, I’d fill in for him. Tho I dislike waking up that early, I do enjoy our running time. It’s my time to one-on-one with soldiers; they push me relentlessly, I push them, and learn a little about what’s going on in their lives.

Mostly, I feel competitive again. Not overly competitive. Let’s not get crazy, I have no aspirations to wrestle SGT McNitt again, but I feel good and want to do more. If only the more I wanted to do would be cleaning around my house. Sigh…

167 today; It’s better than 168 :) and much better than 186! This week SGT Mace, Lt Seckel and I started a competition: First to lose 24 pounds. Winner gets to pick the punishment. I’m thinking… Pedicures at a an actual shop, and I get to pick the mail color. :) I’ll update you on our progress. Sorry it's so disorganized; it's past my bedtime so I was pressed. Better one next time. Promises

But I know I have a great smile...

I have the worlds best friends. I seriously count myself incredibly lucky to have such warm, loving and concerned people in my life. I’ve been stumped lately as far as blogging. I’ve had an idea rolling around in my head, I just am not sure how to get it out. I started out strong, then I got a message from Mason Tidwell. I haven’t heard from him since deployment, but he sent me the following message:

“I'm kinda worried about you. You should let yourself be happy. Maybe i don't have the whole story but you seem a little to hung up on weight. Focus more on being healthy and let your body do the rest. P.S. Obsessing over food or avoiding food is not healthy.

All my best,

Mason”

I love Tidwell! I never thought of my battle with weight as being unhealthy or obsessive until now. I know that when I’m thinner I feel more competitive in life; I actually feel more self conscious the closer I get to my goal weight. At 180-200 lbs, I can dance, wear tight clothing, and not really care how I look to other people. The psychiatrists of the world might take that statement and say, “You don’t think you are worthy to be admired, so you give up and block societal judgements.” That’s right, I took psychology. Maybe that is true.

There is only one way to put this out there so… At 169, I’m running better and easier. My face looks younger in the mirror and I feel better. I’m more aware of my butt jiggling in my running pants, and see the roll of fat above my knees as a constant reminder that genetically there is nothing I can do about stumpy legs. When people comment on how much weight I’ve lost, 17 pounds so far, I say thank you and feel the need to explain that I’m only “half-way there.” Or perhaps I just finally care again.

Tidwell’s message really made me look at my eating and diet differently. The fact remains that like an alcoholic or a drug abuser, I have an unhealthy addiction to food. I get a certain “high” with eating on these binge days. I’ve hallucinated before on the chocolate carmel fondue at the melting pot. I’ve hidden snacks and deserts, I’ve cried because I can’t have anymore, and I’ve eaten a full meal before a dinner date so my friends think I’m eating healthy. I have sat down and eaten $40 worth of junk food in one sitting and I’ve ordered a large pizza and breadsticks and downed it all on a lonely Friday night or twelve. I eat because I’m happy, sad, mad, embarrassed, in pain, without pain, heartbroken or enter ANY other emotion here. I over-eat and will clean my plate no matter how much is on it. Until I find an outlet for that kind of eating, I’m destined to play this weight roller coaster for eternity.

I started round number two of the Hcg Diet today. I still have the goal of 150 pounds. I’m running with my soldiers three times a week and taking vitamins so that I’m getting the vitamins and minerals that my body needs. I have until I’m 150, to find a way to maintain a healthy weight and balance. I think I’m going to try out protein shakes, and yogurt… hmmm any suggestions? I’ve taken nutrition, I know that you don’t need to eat more than the size of your palm, moderation and blah blah. How do you compete with addiction? That is the true question.

Cheater, Cheater, Pumpkin Eater

Today is January 11^th and I have been on this crazy diet since the 2^nd; VLCD since the 4^th. Today I am -13 pounds. I almost cried when I stepped on the scale and went to get Melissa to confirm my weight.

I think this diet is really about teaching yourself to be anorexic. Skinny girls everywhere are celebrating the suffering of a fat girl. I use the scale as a weapon to combat hunger. When I am really craving something other than 100 grams of low-fat meat or a cup of vegetables, I step on the scale to remind myself I’m still pounds away from my goal weight and making amazing progress. Most of all, it’s only 28 days… you can do anything for 28 days, right?

This weekend was truly a test of my endurance. It was drill and after we promoted our new 1sg, we, as leaders, went to Perkins to eat breakfast and run soldier by soldier discussing issues, flags, and concerns. There were pancakes, omelets, and bacon galore. It was a non-diet heaven. I pushed around my 2 egg white omelet and cup of baked tomatoes that I am sure had a moderate amount of our waitresses spit in it as my ordering went like this:

“Can you bring me an apple sliced up?”

“No Ma’am, we don’t actually have apples.”

“Ok can you bring me a side of any steamed vegetables, with no butter on them.”

“Um Ma’am, our vegetables come pre packaged, already buttered.”

“Ok, go on to the next one and I’ll find something on here I can eat on this dang diet.”

I tipped her like a Rockefeller regardless of the amount of tampering that was potentially done.

We went to lunch at Rockies on Saturday to discuss the possibility of training at my sisters place in May. Mmmmm Rockies, the hall of fame of the lard fried food. I had a bowl of ice-burg lettuce and chicken, but I pretended it was their club sandwich and fries smothered with fry sauce.

Tammy brought my favorite 7 layer brownies that have been taunting me from the kitchen. I regret telling her before, “If I can’t be thin, I’ll fatten my friends.” There are times that I think I am eating nonstop, and others where I consider drinking a diet soda really fast so the carbonation will bloat my belly. Today at lunch with my sister and my mom, I had three bites of Applebee’s chocolate meltdown. I did however wait until one of them broke the center open; if I’m going to cheat, I’m going for the good stuff.

Nine days down, 19 days to go. Running is already easier, and I can fit back into my medium scrubs without them bursting at the seams. Till next week, “nothing tastes as good as thin feels!” said between grated teeth.

Untitled because I can't decide on Pygmy's and a funny anecdote about the overfed

What I wouldn’t give to be a starving pygmy in New Guinea. Ok, besides the risk of disease, annoying flys and having to give up my dogs, those lucky ducks get rice. Oh how I wish I could have a something, anything white, carb-loaded and deliciously tasty right now. Not that I would trade the extra 35 pounds I gained in 18 months, or the aching in my knees when I run for a single gram of carbohydrates. Usually after 18 months and 35 pounds normal people have a 6 month old child. Mmmmm, but check with me next week, I may just take that offer.
I understand that these “crash diets” are unsustainable, ridiculously restrictive and miserable to everyone around me currently eating chocolate. Oooooh, or that delightfully devilish ice cream cake my boss brought to the office today. I avoided the break room for most of the day and when I HAD to walk past the cake, I avoided eye contact at all cost. I know that if I can just get the first 20 pounds off, it’s all downhill from there.
It seems an unfair exchange: eat what I want V/S look like I want. At the basis, they are both really about what I want, but one means giving up the other. This struggle started in the second grade. I was aware that I was the chunky kid at Melba elementary, and was painfully shy because of it. My boyfriend through 7th grade wrote in my yearbook, “Leah, hope you shrink your butt. Love GW.” It wasn’t until my Junior year that I realized there was something I could do about it. I was down to 129, and in complete awe of the scale in the store room of the Albertson’s I worked at. Granted, a majority of the weight lost had to do with the fact that mom and I could only afford cereal, milk and toilet paper, and that I spent a lot of time throwing freight and chasing carts in 90 degree weather, but all the same I was 129 pounds! I have a million excuses for each and every time I put the weight back in but you know what they say about excuses right?
(HAHAHAHA!!! This next section is not allowed to be read by mom, or Jenn. Kindly skip to the next Paragraph.) In my early twenties, I tried my hand at bulimia. Three weeks into it, while throwing up, I burst a blood vessel in my left eye and couldn't see for about 30 minutes. Worse, my sclera filled with blood, so I wore a bright red eye like a scarlet letter for everybody to see. I was horrified to think that one single person might think that I’m the idiot that couldn't even throw up right. I was however, ecstatic when my vision returned and promised that I would never purposely vomit again. During nursing school I learned that stomach acid can eat away at your teeth resulting in loss of pearly whites. I’m so fortunate that I lost my vision for 30 minutes and generally sucked at bulimia.
Recently I read that Kate moss said, “Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.” I know that it was supposed to be a deep thought that really hits home with the fat and overfed, but my first thought was, “What a pretentious B*.” How dare someone with 2 % body fat make any comments about food. I thought this while reading people magazine in the tub, and eating a bowl of peanut butter mixed with my sisters sangria jam with a spoon When I looked down at the bowl, and my naked body in the background, I felt sad. This is not how I want to look and, I certainly don’t want to be one of those overweight snobs that thinks everything is everyone else's problem. January 3rd this became my new motivational chant.
I know I’m not completely disgusting, and I won’t be a contestant on the biggest loser anytime soon. I pass height/weight when taped for the army standard, but I’m embarrassed that my boyfriend weighs less than me. Again, it’s time to be healthy. I am so fortunate to have fantastic friends and family who want to be healthy too. Tho I won’t broadcast my starting weight taken 3 days ago, I will tell you my progress.
I’m doing the HCG diet. My best friend Bethany and Annie Torres both look amazing after doing it, and well, what the hell. Hell being the operative word. For two days I shoved everything in my mouth until I wanted to vomit for 24 hours strait. They suggest all of the foods you are going to miss during the VLCD (very low calorie diet) days. For the next 28 days, I am restricted to a 500 calorie diet with very strict food choices, all the while putting these little drops of weird tasting, clear fluid under my tongue 10 times a day. I’m on day 5 of the diet, day 3 of the VLCD and I’m STARVING! Bethany is the only one I’ve told this to so far. Everyone else thinks I’m doing fantastically, “I barely remember when it’s time to eat.” I also made the mistake of starting right before my period when chocolate craving are at their peak, but I’m hanging in there. I wanted to cry and almost took a cheater day when Tammy brought in the cake, but then I stepped on the scale and was -4 pounds. Wow, only 31 pounds to go. So in 3 days I lost 4 pounds… huh, at this rate it’s on like Donkey Kong!
Oh and I looked up Papua New Guinea on Wikipedia. The people don’t look starving or unhappy. They have a rainforest, cool animals, wood through various body parts, but I didn't see any Nato rice being dropped in. Most of all they look healthy. I take back everything I said in the first paragraph. I would delete the intro, but I listened to Larry the Cable guy while running tonight and the thought of trading my cooshy life for a third world country over 35 pounds is just so...sigh chocolaty