I’m in a rut. I have been for a few weeks, which is why I haven’t written. I started this blog as a way to discuss my struggles through weightloss, life, infertility, and such, and yet I have not had the desire to write as I have been going through things. I don’t plan to divulge them all here, nor do I say this to attempt to gain sympathy. Instead, this remains an outlet for me, and I hope those of you who are going through different life challenges can feel less alone through me writing about them.

I know I wrote about the scale a few posts back, as well as not letting it dictate my day or mood. Honestly, the scale is being painstakingly honest with me right now. Food has not been good. Fitness has been less than stellar. As a result, the scale is currently up. I don’t want it to keep going up, yet here I am, not doing things to improve the chances of its downward motion. Little man got his first nap today in almost a week, and I had all the plans in the world to workout while he was sleeping. Know what I did instead? Watched 2 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy. (See my blog post where I wrote about why I workout first thing in the morning….)

I know that most of the things I am currently struggling and waiting on answers for will come in a relatively short period of time, yet the wait seems to drag on and on.

As I am not currently feeling motivated to change what I am eating, I’m going to jump on the latest trend and try intermittent fasting(IF). For those of you who don’t know what it is, basically you limit your food consumption to 8 hours a day. So in my case, I plan to have my first meal be lunch around 11:30am, and I will finish dinner by 7:30pm. There’s all sorts of science and rationale behind people doing it, but honestly that’s not why I am doing it. I’m doing it because I need a change.

While I know when I follow my own rules, my body generally obeys and will start dropping. The problem is I am completely unmotivated right now. I need a stronger “why”, and I don’t know what that is right now. For the first time in my life, I think I would be okay remaining around the weight I am. Sure, I wouldn’t mind dropping some more, but I’m fairly confident I can sustain this weight.

My challenge is getting the drive to see if I can push past this mark. I just don’t know if I want it enough. I have been essentially trying to lose weight for the majority of my life, and at times it just gets exhausting trying so hard. At the same time, I have learned that if I don’t do anything, the weight will pile back on with zero effort. I know some of it’s water weight, but the scale is up 6 pounds from a week ago.

So I’m going to try something new. We’ll see how it goes. I’ve been nervous about doing it, as when I’m working out hard in the mornings, I’m generally pretty famished afterwards. At the same time, it’s a pretty easy shift for me, and I’ve always done well with strict boundaries. I’ve lost a ton of weight doing Atkins’ because it forces you to cut out specific foods. My problem with it is that once I reintroduce those foods, I lose my mind every time and end up gaining back a bunch.

I’m not expecting this to help me get out of my current rut, but I’m going to keep moving forward. I’d love any of your feedback about experiences with IF, working through ruts, anything at all. Just taking this life thing one day at a time.

I bought this hoodie while at my alma mater Murray State (go Racers!) at a homecoming probably 6 years ago. I didn’t love how it looked, but there weren’t a ton of cute options that came in 3X (at least not in my price bracket). It was a just little big, but it fit pretty much as hoodies should.

Fast forward 5 or 6 months, I had my surgery, and the weight started dropping. I continued to wear this same hoodie every time I went to the gym when the weather required it. I then wore it after I got pregnant all the way through my pregnancy. And now, as I’ve surpassed my lowest weight, I continue to wear it. Nearly every time I have left the house to go to the gym since starting this journey, I have worn it.

So I realize I’ve written more about this one article of clothing than many of you may have cared to read, but obviously I’m talking about more than a hoodie. I have a few articles of clothing left from when I was 140 pounds heavier. I got rid of several things the first time I lost the weight, much to my chagrin after regaining. This remains one of the only clothing articles that remains in regular circulation.

Every time I put on this hoodie, I look in the mirror and can remember where I started. I remember the girl who was too embarrassed to go to the gym, and instead did zumba Wii dances until she got the courage to attend a live class. I remember later conquering that fear, starting to attend the gym first a few days a week, later 5-6 days, and some days going twice. I remember feeling the comfort of it as I outgrew my other clothes through regain, knowing it would always be there for me. Now, I wear it and feel slim, proud of my accomplishments, and mostly grateful that my body decided to start losing weight again after a couple years battling a plateau.

I still have a pair of the largest pair of pants I own, and it is double the size of my current favorite pair of jeans. The hoodie is 3-4 sizes larger than the majority of tops in my closet now.

I think it’s important that we value the journey, and while it’s important we don’t dwell in the past, we can look at things from it and remind ourselves as to how far we’ve come. I’m not sure what my next goal will be, but I will likely be wearing this hoodie as I attempt to figure it out!

Trigger warning, especially for the gents.

Today was day 29 of my cycle. As I’ve mentioned before, my main motivation for having weightloss surgery initially, as well as getting the weight off again, has been in hopes of pregnancy. I have been averaging closer to 25 days, and the last time I went 28 days was June of 2018. I did take a home pregnancy test yesterday, which read negative, and I believed it. Finally, this morning, Aunt Flo has arrived, confirming that thought. (Though not before another dream of a positive test.)

I am doing my best to stay numb to this. We are only on month 3 of “trying” again after a long hiatus. We had previously tried for a year and a half, and I promised myself that I wouldn’t wrap so many of my thoughts and emotions around it this time around. The break was really good for me, and so far I’ve been better.

But it’s just hard. It’s frustrating. I remember twice in our last attempts being a little late and being convinced I was pregnant. Fortunately, I did not feel so convinced this time around and thereby am not as crushed.

Ever since we started trying, I have had a plan as to how to let my husband know that I am expecting. Every time I think there’s a chance, I mentally start figuring out the logistics of how to do that. It’s silly, I know. But it is what it is.

I promised to be open and transparent with this blog, and so that’s what I’m doing. I know I am blessed beyond measure. I have so many friends who have struggled with infertility just to get pregnant once, who endure countless tests, injections, hormones, etc. I have been fortunate to never have had a miscarriage. I have a beautiful healthy son.

Yet it’s still hard. I have a circle of friends from church who have all struggled with getting pregnant with number 2, and I just got word that the last one passed the first trimester mark. I absolutely celebrate with them. I am overjoyed for them. It’s just hard to not feel left behind.

It’s been a stressful month, which I’m sure has contributed to my tardiness. I know we’re not that far into the “trying” game this time around, and it takes an average 6 months to a year. I know these things in my head. I just need to transfer them from my head to my heart.

I don’t have any suggestions to others going through the same thing. I just write this so that you know you aren’t alone. Secondary infertility is a term I didn’t know existed until recently. I know there are avenues through which we can go to get help when we’re ready for it. Until then, I’m going to make the most of today. I have a much needed lunch date with a dear mentor of mine who I haven’t seen in over a year. I have a beautiful life, the sun is shining, and today is another day!

 

I have never been the person to choose fitness. I was a band/choir/theater kid growing up. My worst grade was in PE. The combination of being overweight and out of shape kept me from wanting to do physical activities. I always enjoyed dance as activity, but most other things, not so much. So if you’d have told me as a kid that one day I would choose to wake up at 5:35am to exercise, I would’ve laughed at you. Yet here I am.

I have found that the only way I can either lose weight or not gain when I eat less than perfect is to exercise almost every day. Between work and raising a toddler, the only way I can make this happen is by doing it first thing in the morning, before the boy wakes up.

I have to make the decision before I go to bed. I know when I’m going to wake up and what I’m going to do. If I decide to do it then, I don’t have the resolve to talk myself out of it when I wake up. I find it incredibly hard if I don’t get it in to have the motivation to do it later in the day. I am very skilled at talking myself out of a workout.

I’ve mentioned before that an object in motion stays in motion, and the same goes for people. By starting the day with that workout, I am more inclined to make more active choices throughout the day. I’m not always perfect in my eating, but I tend to eat better when I’ve already exercised.

When it comes to fitness, I have a few pieces of advice.

1. Find something you don’t hate to do. If you enjoy it, that’s even better! Dance/Zumba/Jazzercise has always been my first choice of activity. It’s fun and the time passes quickly. Generally you can scale it back if you’re a beginner or bump it up if you’re more in shape. I’m also big into lifting weights. Running, HIIT, other activities that make me feel like death are NOT things I enjoy. If you hate the workout, you’re not going to stick with it.

2. Schedule your workout and make it a priority in your day. Everyone has the same amount of time in the day, it’s just a matter of how we budget it. I choose to exercise rather than get an extra hour of sleep. I do love sleep, but the benefits of working out outweigh that for me. If it’s on your calendar, you are less likely to skip it than if you just think you might exercise sometime later. Later never comes, trust me.

3. Just start doing something more than you are doing now. Working out 6 days a week if you’re doing nothing can be intimidating. Start with three days. Don’t know what to do? Start with walking. Take the stairs. Choose the furthest parking spot from the store. Hop on YouTube and do some yoga. Find a fitness app and get some ideas. Once you start moving, you’ll gradually find yourself wanting to do more.

4. Get some accountability. I love having a workout buddy, but a lot of times I lean on them and if they bail, I will skip my workout. Instead, my gym offers free monthly weigh ins and measurements. This is really important to me, as often the inches or body fat percentage will move when the scale doesn’t. Plus having someone else do it gives me more motivation to make good choices.

Remember it takes 18 days to make a habit. It will be a challenge at first, but once you get started, you won’t look back. Find a way this week to up your fitness game!  You won’t regret it. 

(Note: I started writing this a couple weeks ago and life took over, so I’m just now publishing this!)

This past Saturday night, my hubby and I got to experience a much-needed date night for the first time in eons. A couple months ago, I bought a “little black dress” that has been sitting in my closet ever since, waiting for an occasion. I bought it apprehensively, not having ever had the confidence to wear something like it before. I’m a dress with leggings kind of person. I can’t remember the last time I wore nylons (maybe high school swing choir??). Hubs was with me when I bought it and talked me into the purchase, so there ya go.

Fast forward to Saturday afternoon. My mom and I run to the store to purchase said nylons, and I told her how much I’d wanted a pair of red shoes to go with it. We head off to Payless, and I was bummed at first to have no luck. Though as I was trying on shoes, something bizarre was happening. Every shoe I tried on in my usual size (as in the same size since I was 13 years old), were too big. My mom said she wondered if I needed to go down a size, and I thought surely not. We grabbed the foot measurer thingy, and sure enough my feet had dropped over a size. Who knew you could lose weight in your feet!

Just so happened that there was a pair of cute red heels in the size down, and they fit! Head home, and I pull out the black dress and start to get ready. Pantyhose are every bit as uncomfortable as I remember them! I’m also not a person who wears heels, and they may have freaked my son out just a little bit.

So, why am I writing a whole post about wearing a black dress on a date night? As someone who has spent most of her life avoiding wearing form fitting clothes, this was an incredibly challenging experience to me. I also always hated dresses growing up for several reasons…crossing my legs has gotten easier and more comfortable, but I remember being in a middle school play picture and really struggling to do it.

I’m thankful for how far I’ve come, and I don’t think I’ll ever be “done” with this battle. I’m not sure I’ll ever stop seeing the person on the left, yet I’m terrified to get back to that point. No matter, I just gotta remember I’m still a work in progress both on the outside and in.

The scale and I have had a rocky relationship ever since I was young. I remember going to different weight loss groups and closing my eyes when it came time to weigh in because I was too terrified of what it would say. I have also found that when I go long periods of time without checking the scale, the number can jump up anywhere from 30 to 50 pounds. (Never found it to go the other direction!)

With that said, I weigh daily. I have an obsessive personality, as I’m sure many of you do. When I focus on something, I have trouble thinking about anything else. Thus weighing daily is something I have to do for my own sanity. Here are things to note:

First off, the scale lies. Yes, it gives you a number of how much you weigh that day at that time, but it doesn’t tell you several other things. It doesn’t tell you how much water you are retaining. Did you know the more you drink, the less you retain? So when I go a day or two and don’t get enough fluids in, the scale will be up, sometimes as much as 3-5 pounds overnight.

Another thing the scale doesn’t tell you is how much muscle mass you have. People will say muscle weighs more than fat, but that’s not true. A pound of fat weighs as much as a pound of muscle, but it takes up more space as it’s less dense. If you’re lifting weights or doing other things to build muscle, the scale will likely go up. While I’m about the same weight I was before I had my son, I’m not quite as lean. At the time, I’d been working out 6 days a week for over a year. I’m working out hard again, but it’s taking time to catch up.

Yet another thing to account for is that the scale will change for ladies according to the time of the month. At two different times every month, the scale will go up for me. Sometimes a lot, sometimes a little, but it generally will even out after the fact, and sometimes have a major drop out of no where.

So when I weigh daily, I have all of those things in mind. I don’t get excited about a drop or depressed by a gain. I don’t even believe the number to be true until it’s lasted for at least 3-4 days.

Weighing daily is a way to keep myself accountable. I will see a difference when I eat poorly, and it will serve as a deterrent for me at times from making bad choices. I also have an ingrained fear of gaining again, and so I have developed it as part of my routine.

In order to weigh daily, I follow the same ritual. I do it first thing in the morning, after I use the restroom, and completely in the buff. Food, drink, human waste…all these things affect your weight. My weight can fluctuate as much as 5 pounds from first thing in the morning to later in the day.

Weighing daily isn’t for the faint of heart. If you’re obsessed with being a certain number or losing so many pounds a week/month, it’s going to drive you crazy. Weighing weekly or monthly is a much more accurate idea of progress than daily, and if that’s still too much for you, being aware of how your clothes feel can be a better method of measurement still.

If it’s going to ruin your day if the scale goes up, don’t weigh daily. The scale will go up some days…see the points mentioned above. It’s also not healthy to weigh multiple times a day. As long as you consume food and drink or do any form of exercise, the scale will change.

The scale isn’t a bad thing in and of itself and shouldn’t define us. Non-scale victories are a much better measurement, and I’ll talk about those in another post. You have to know yourself well enough to know if it’s a good idea or bad idea for you to weigh frequently. And that’s all I’ve got to say about that!

Last night, I told my husband that I had a experienced the strangest thing all day yesterday. Somehow, I was utterly untempted by any of the junk food I had been surrounded by for the week. I didn’t feel like eating much in general, and the choices I made were overall really good. I cooked white turkey chili for lunch and chicken fajitas for dinner.

Enter today. I can’t say that mentally I wanted all the food, but yet I ate it. I indulged in things that really didn’t bring me that much enjoyment. Yet all I wanted to do was eat. I can blame part of it on hunger, coupled with wanting food quickly rather than taking the effort to prepare the food that would actually be good for me. I don’t even know what switched in my brain from yesterday to today.

This morning, my husband and I went to our first Zumba class in a long time, which was a lot of fun and got me a good workout. I still ate all the junk after this, but once the little man’s naptime rolled around, I decided to make up the workout I had skipped to Zumba, doubling it up.

Part of me did the second workout to counteract the junk I had been eating. Part of me did it because I’m on day 56 of Beachbody’s 80 Day Obsession, and I didn’t want to get behind on my workouts. Another part of me just did it because I knew I’d feel better having done it.

I’ve had a quite a few people tell me how much they appreciated me being transparent about my struggles. I started this blog to not only help motivate others, but also as a form of accountability.

In the end, I know the scale will likely be up a bit tomorrow, but I’m not going to lose sleep over it. I know a lot of the eating I did was out of a combination of boredom and emotions. I’m not going to beat myself up over the choices I made today, I’m just going to do the best I can tomorrow.

Some of you may have heard that my grandmother took a spill on the ice this past weekend. She dislocated her hip, but thankfully it’s been put back in place and she is doing much better.

With that said, my mother (who normally watches my son), needs to take care of her mommy. I have been able to work half days, and then bring him over to my grandma’s house and tag team with my mom to watch our youngest and eldest family members.

My grandmother’s house is what you expect all grandmother’s houses to be…filled floor to ceiling with junk food. Cookies, chips, muffins, candies, cakes, you name it, Grandma has it.

I have found the only times I can adequately fend off all the junk is when I am low carbing. I understand mentally when I’m in ketosis, that one cheat is enough to completely reset how your body works. Thus, I am not as tempted to cheat. With that said, I know I can’t live low carb. Once I quit, I lose my mind. Every. Single. Time. No matter how much I try to plan to “be good” after reintegrating carbs, I always go overboard and eat all the junk.

I currently live a hybrid of Weight Watchers, South Beach, and just clean eating. I generally avoid carbs, though I don’t omit them all together. I’ll substitute green beans for pasta a lot of times, as well as cauliflower rice instead of grains. With that said, I don’t outright prohibit myself from eating anything.

This is where the struggle of food addiction comes into play. It’s hard for me to have just a little bit, just a taste, just a couple bites. Once I have one, I want all. It’s taken me a long time to come to terms with the fact I do actually have an addiction, and the hardest thing about it is that it’s something I can’t quit cold turkey. (That’s called anorexia…)

In efforts to combat my temptations this week, I’m setting some ground rules. I’m not allowing myself even one chip or cookie…There’s no just eating one chip for me…they are one of my biggest weaknesses. I’ve also stocked the house with healthy alternatives. Instead of sweets, I have strawberries with Splenda. Instead of chips and dip, I have cucumbers with fat free ranch or carrots and hummus. For a crunch, I have some dried chickpeas. I might even splurge and do some stovetop popcorn.

The more junk I eat, the more I crave it. The opposite is also true. Today, I can honestly say I haven’t felt the pull to eat the junk. I’m not hungry, and if I get hungry, I have some good options. If I get munchy, I have some good options too.

Everyone has their own challenges. Smoking, drinking, drugs…I’m fortunate that none of those have ever been a struggle for me. Food has always been my Achilles heel. I’ve also been ashamed of it, so this is the first I’ve really “spoken” openly about it. At the same time, I feel there is value in sharing your story in letting others know they aren’t alone.

There will be seasons when I am better able to manage my cravings, and there will be seasons when I fail and eat all the junk. The faster I can maneuver out of the latter, the kinder I will be to my body and quicker I will get back to being at peace within my own skin. Just taking it a day at a time!

I am not a person that feels like any food should be off limits, but I also know when I need to put boundaries on myself. I will continue to deal with this struggle my whole life, but I’m grateful that I’ve finally found a way of eating that I can live with doing. I just know if I stop working, I’ll blink and have an extra hundred pounds on me.

Pictures. It seems has an emotion when it comes to having them taken. It’s our way of documenting the world around us and attempting to remember something that brought us joy. This morning my son wanted me to carry him around the house, as he pointed out what he saw in each picture. His excitement was palpable.

So many times I see posts of people who have lost weight, with a then and now photo side by side. They talk about the person then as being sad, unhealthy, basically a lesser person, where the person now has confidence, strength, and health.

I have always been a healthy person. I haven’t made the greatest food choices, and obviously obesity is a health issue, however, other than my weight, everything has been pretty perfect. When I was heavier, I was just that. Sure, my weight was always there, something either in the back or front of my mind at most times, but it didn’t keep me from living my life or traveling to see the world.

As someone who has yo-yoed in weight so much of my life, it would be easy to only look at and share the “thinner” pictures and delete the “fat” ones. The problem is that I only have been around this weight twice ever in my life, the first time when I was maybe 12 years old, and the other was a little less than 4 years ago when I got pregnant with Elliot. Some of my best memories were made when I weighed 100 pounds more than I do now, including a good chunk of college. I weighed a little more than 30 pounds more than this when I got married, 70 pounds more when I did my senior recital…you get the idea.

Obviously, I didn’t love weighing 140 pounds more than I do now, or else I wouldn’t have had the surgery. However, that didn’t mean I didn’t love my life. Before my surgery, I had just moved back home for the first time in over 10 years when I thought I would never get to do so. I’d secured an amazing job doing what I love, and I was able to live close to family.

We need to find peace within ourselves as we are. Everyone is beautiful in his or her own way, and I think that gets masked in our perception of what we are supposed to look like based on Hollywood, our friends, and society in general.

Last night, I took this picture with my sister. We had just completed one of our first workouts together. We did not get along growing up for a variety of reasons, but time and distance has brought us closer together. She’s always been the thin, fit and active one, and fitness has always been a chore for me. When I told her I might want to share it on my blog, she didn’t now how she felt about it, but I ultimately pulled her around (I think??). 🙂

Having our pictures taken is not about being perfect, flawless, showing our most amazing self. It’s about capturing the moment. Looking back at that picture, I will smile knowing that we had just completed a brutal leg workout, even though we were both sleep deprived and I was crazy sore.

Let’s stop trying to be perfect and instead try to be real. Maybe only then we can start changing what society things is beautiful.

I’ve been having a low day.  I know everybody does, but it still catches me off guard sometimes.  It’s not that I don’t have reasons to be low, I just hate letting the circumstances affect my day.

The morning started with “Aunt Flo” coming to town.  That in and of itself is not a reason for ruining your day, but this is the first month my husband and I started trying again to get pregnant, so every period is a little stab.  We tried for nearly a year and a half before taking a break, and I promised myself to not let it absorb my thoughts this time around as it did then.  The break was very good for my psyche, but I can’t help but feel like I’m back where I was in the grind of it.

This is the first time we’ve tried that I’ve been back at (below) the weight I was when I got pregnant with Elliot, so in some ways, this is the test I have been waiting for.  During the entire time we tried before, the nagging thought in my brain was that I was heavier, and until I got back down, I didn’t want to bother going to seek fertility help.

I know statistically at my age, I only have a one in five chance of getting pregnant each month, so it would take time regardless.  I also am aware that several things affect fertility, not least of all stress.  We find out either this week or next whether or not my husband will be offered a full time position where he has been contracted, so that’s been weighing heavily on both of us.

I continued through the rest of my day, and I had some stressors at church this morning – nothing out of my ability, but enough to keep my head off all morning.  It’s Super Bowl Sunday, and we have no plans.  It’s not that we care about the game, but each year this seems to be the day that we’re reminded of our incredibly limited social circle.  I try to be grateful for what we have, but it’s hard to not feel that loneliness and isolation creep back in on days like this.   

After lunch and battling to get the little man to stay in his room, I laid down for a nap.  After laying there for an hour, it didn’t come, so I decided to do what I normally do when I can’t sleep anymore…grab a workout.

It’s amazing what that half hour has done for my entire being.  I’m still tired.  I’m still a little sad.  I’m still a bit out of it.  But I feel strong.  The time flew by, and I’m glad I did it. 

I am now sitting on my amazing porch on the most gorgeous day we have had in months, doing something I love to do that I haven’t done in years…writing down my thoughts.  I’m not sure when these will be shared, but simply getting them out of my head onto the page is helping me work through things. 

I plan on being pretty transparent in this blog.  I really don’t have anything to hide.  I’ve felt both unashamedly happy and utterly depressed at different points in my life, and I figure it all evens out in the end.  Regardless, I never know when what I am struggling with might resonate with someone else, and it might even help validate the challenges you are going through.

Either way, I’m going to get back to writing one way or another.