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25 March 2014

Weigh-in: 175.0 lb lost so far: 110.0 lb still to go: 0 lb Diet followed reasonably well

24 March 2014

Monday Afternoon - March 24th and ... it's HERE... my bike is HERE! I feel as if I am 8 years old again (which, if memory serves, was the last year I got a gift that wasn't underwear or socks for my birthday). I don't think my last new CAR was this exciting. Then again, maybe I haven't bought my LAST new car yet.

Yesterday was not one of my better days for ATF; it began with another 2am security (false) alarm tri-athalon (I think one more and I win a set of steak knives - thrown AT my forehead by the security crew) followed by waking again and misreading the clock beside my bed as 6:15. By the time I figured out it was really only 3:30 I was already in the living room drinking coffee so I stayed up. And in Bellawood a weird science time thing happens where 'more hours awake calculates to more hours to eat which leads to body going crazy wanting more'.

So, the shopping list now contains 'a: enormous digital clock' and 'b: small sledgehammer to knock self out, or at least knock teeth out' should that happen again.

I won't deny some of it wasn't emotional. I'm recognizing where Sunday used to be my absolute favorite day of the week it is currently (and I plan for that to be temporary) my saddest. It was the day I could divide my time and energy between being Cutty's wife ((more than caretaker trying to fit time in with him in while running the shop)) resting, my yard, and other little 'to be done' lists. But now, the tasks and back yard maintenance are being done in the evenings or during the day as I have all the freaking free time in the world and I find myself at loose ends on Sunday. And, yeah, lonely. Sad. Depressed. Pathetic.

I get it. I've been reading much about this process; how it often takes months for the grief and reality to really set in and I know it's natural. There are plenty of things I can PLAN just to 'keep busy' - church, events, calendars, but that has been my M.O. for the past few months and I found myself growing weary of the obligations. The schedule. Just one more 'living life by a clock, is everyone on time, will the weather interfere, no spontaneity, etc'. I can hear the bell ringing for me so I am paying attention in order to find a balance between 'enjoying' my day and 'fulfilling my appointments'.

I also think I may have unlocked another window to my crazy house this morning as I realized reading journals and perspectives that part of my barrier, my 'thinking thing holding me back from daily happiness' is that I am at, have been at, that same place in weight of the women, well, let me be correct here, men and women both, whom I've begrudged and scoffed at so much of my life: the 'if I could just lose 10 more pounds' stage. It was a reminder seed planted on Yo's journal that had me sorting thru memories like one of those calendar page flippy things in movies.

I recall when I first joined here I'd read journals of people wanting to lose that 'last 10 pounds' or struggling to take off that 2lbs they gained over the holidays.

I'd started this time at nearly 300lbs and would think things like 'seriously? If *I* only weighed 120lbs you'd have to SEDATE me to quiet the laughter and joy. I'd probably have 120 tattood on my FOREHEAD if I ever reached that weight again.'

And then I met another wonderful person who weighed only 100lbs and still wasn't happy with it either. These were clearly members who've never truly struggled with a lifetime of morbid obesity. As time passed, I met more. Some with 2lbs to goal, some with 200lbs to goal.

All of us with the same agenda just different starting points.

And, as more time passed and I followed the stories, I learned how much harder it is to lose 5lbs than 50lbs. And how much easier it is to gain 5lbs than lose 5lbs. How much harder it is to maintain a goal weight without the thrill of the 'downward roller coaster' of loss. Just get up every day and do it right; then get up the next day and do it again. That, and more.

The daily stories, journals, non-scale victories, triumphs over eating disorders, recognition on nutrition and open thinking to new ideas helped me learn to love food again as well as recognize how much more important it is to truly love myself unconditionally 'today' - not contingent upon a scale or tag in the waist of jeans.

Most of days, I get it. And many days I wondered if I was trying to 'fake it til I make it' accepting myself at this weight for nearly nine months now. Some days I wonder if I'm rationalizing or compromising by not pushing thru to reach my goal. Harder, more, faster.

But today in one of those random 'blinks of awareness' I recognized I'm at the place I'd begrudged so many others for so many years though. So, I guess, maybe the Universe just has me paying my dues for now ... one bite, one day at a time.

Thanks for visiting me. It's closing time and I am OUTTA here! Should I get run over and killed on my bike ride today please have a nice memorial for me. Serve chocolate chip cookies. Thanks.


24 March 2014

22 March 2014

Saturday evening - second journal - and I’m looking around for the marker to check another item off my bucket list: I gave blood today. I’ve tried several times in the past but was rejected because of being anemic - even this time I made it by the skin of my teeth. The minimum level is 12.5; mine was 13.3. So after submitting this journal I’ll be interwebbing to understand iron and see if it has any bearing on my weight. Maybe if I had more iron my metabolism would take off, hmmm?

Regarding the camel; the guy wasn’t offering rides so I didn’t ask nor did I think to get a photo, sorry. It was the first time for me to even be close enough to a real one in life to touch and I was so overwhelmed by it’s size and beauty that didn’t think to do a selfie. Or a duo. Or whatever you call it when you use your cell phone to take a photo of yourself with a Camel.

My ankle held so I was able to go to the downtown event and one of the local vineyards was having a wine tasting event. They had an adult tricycle there on loan to the vineyard for hauling and it was courtesy of the very bike store I’ve been trying to visit in The City so….. PERFECT. The vineyard let me try it and Mushy rode in the basket just fine. I was so excited I called the bike guy and he’s delivering me one tomorrow. In metallic green. I’m as pumped as I hope those tires will be. I know I won’t be getting my speed or distance anywhere near Heather or Glen but I’m really looking forward to riding around town early mornings or late evenings when the traffic is less.

Of course, they wanted to take a photo of Mushy in the basket and all I could think was ‘please don’t get my butt in the shot’. I swear … bappity bap to me for such thoughts when I’m having a good time.

I picked up a beautiful vintage summer purse from one of the downtown thrift stores and a pair of white capris from the boutique. And I took the grandson’s to a Crawfish Boil; their first ever. The oldest is definitely his Mother’s Son (Blondie) - approaches everything new as if he’s a contestant on ‘Fear Factor’. So I just let him eat the corn, potato and sausage. Of course, the youngest grandson called him a wimp and had to show him up by digging in and matching me ‘tail for tail’ especially when I told him sucking the head would make him smarter. It was fun.

Other interesting statistics at the Blood Bank: my B/P was 93/60 and pulse was 60. This was after all of the walking and very salty crawfish. Not bad at all. After that we came home because it was getting really chilly; curled up in the living room and I beat them both in a game of Monopoly on the PS3. Yes, I’m that kind of Nana: ruthless. Can’t call me bloodless anymore though - today proved without a doubt I have more than ice water running thru my veins. In fact, they had a hard time getting it to stop flowing. In a few days I’ll be able to go to their website and determine my blood type - I’ve never known - as well as get a cholesterol reading. Yay me.

ATF - a couple of chinks in the rails today. I’d had tuna for lunch when I brought Mushy back home; she was pooped. So the crawfish was ‘eating when not hungry’ but it isn’t something we have in these parts very often. All in all it wasn’t the RDI pusher as much as the cheese & biscuit was when I got back home. But the lady advised me to eat a ‘hearty meal’. So there, it was for the good of the blood bank.

And that’s about it for my day. I think I’ll go soak my ankle in the spa tub and settle down for the evening. Going for my 5th night of Mastering Team Bella through the Midnight Munching Madness.

Have a good evening.

Biker Bella

22 March 2014

Good Saturday Morning - March 22nd. I’ve downgraded my initial self diagnosis to a level 1 sprain. No discoloration and I was able to bear weight on it without use of the cane yesterday afternoon despite the swelling.

After another evening in the zero gravity position on the bed most of the swelling is down and walking is pain free. I am holding good thoughts it remains so as there is a downtown event going on this weekend I want to attend. I just completed my second ‘air alphabet’ range of motion therapy. The letter’s “O” and “Q” were the hardest.

The opportunity to see, pet and feed a carrot to a camel was a result of a ‘Feed’ vendor being at the Business Showcase. I refrained if asking if Purina actually produced Camel-Chow.

But no, I didn’t ride the camel. The sprain resulted from trying to ‘walk and talk’ in dressy high heels. At the FairGrounds. Go head and ‘duh’ me. Knock yourself out. I didn’t envision we’d have to park in the back forty but am grateful it was end of the day not beginning.

ATF yesterday was much better and as Yolanda has given me a ‘pass’ on the ‘midnight munching’ ruling for the convalescent snacking until 3am I will now chalk up my fourth night in a row sans madness.

I’ve never hidden the fact that I have a dozen conversations going on in my head at any given time. When I sat off the security alarm at 2am this morning as I let Mushy go potty the conversation played like a sports commentary between Gifford and Meredith:

“Well, Don, there is an extra level of difficulty involved in this move. She’s still trying to get the residual chemicals of pain meds out of her system and just isn’t thinking very clearly.”

“Right you are, Frank. So here we see her limping up to the control panel and squinting to see the numeric pad to quiet the alarm. And THERE goes the house phone … more limping to reach it in time. Nope, missed it.”

“So, do you think she’ll get the cell phone in time to stop the security company from sending the police? Let’s watch..”

“She DOES. Whew, that was a close one. So she’s fully awake, Mushy’s back in the house. Doors locked, alarm reset. Like most things in this game, it all comes down to this next move. Will she get a good drink of water and just go back to bed? This is usually where it all falls apart for this veteran player of the Midnight Munching Madness.”

“She DID IT! The panel judges are smiling as they tally up their scores. I’m predicting 10’s all across the board…”

Yeah, I agree… lock me up, I’m nuts. But I went back to bed and didn’t detour into the kitchen. Yay me. Gold Medal. Stanley Cup. Game Ball.

Thank you for stopping to visit me. Wishing you a wonderful Saturday wherever you are today.


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