{A Body That Won't Break}

it's getting so much clearer

2012-02-14T00:00:00.000-06:00

To The Bravest Girl I Know,

How do I start this letter? It's so much easier to write letters to my husband, my family, and our friends. Words are so powerful, but as you well know, you're not very good at believing them when they are directed towards you.

I think that is the first thing to remember. The words you say to others are words that you also need to say to yourself.

It's not that you're more special than another. Or better than anyone else. But you do need to love yourself in order to love others. (I don't say this to be harsh but just to remind you that every person in the world is worthy of love.)

Remember how you felt at church Sunday morning? Truth poured from the pastor's lips and pierced your heart - reminding you (and me) that life is not about the things that so many say it is. Life's about loving others well, building lasting and meaningful relationships with others, and living in such a way that you always point back to the cross.

There are times when do you do this. But as you well know, there are plenty of other times when you don't do this. I think that the reason you (and I) struggle with this is simple: we don't love ourselves enough.

It's a hard thing to balance. How do you love yourself without lifting yourself up above God, above the calling placed on your life? How do you take care of yourself without allowing your life to become solely about you? How do you live your life for others without completely forgetting to take care of yourself as well?

My suggestion is to start with the cross and to remember just how loved you are by a God who willingly went to the cross and died for you. His death was never in vain. Please also remember that. It was done so that you would begin to live life in a way that spoke to others. And that way should also speak to you on a daily basis.

Also remember that God loves you for the person you are. He made you, knitting you together in your mother's womb. The things you don't like about yourself - your amniotic band syndrome for one - are things He created and that set you apart from others. Enjoy those things. Capitalize on those things. Love those things.

While you are remembering the things God loves you for, also remember that everything He has given you is a gift. Nothing belongs to you; it all belongs to Him. I know letting go of control is terrifying, but I truly believe that your life will become more of what it needs to be as you let go or what your expectations are.

God has given you talent, and that talent needs to be used. Don't stop writing - ever. It doesn't matter how many people read or don't read. What matters is that you never give up. When the words won't come, sit at the computer - fingers poised above the keyboard - and wait. The words will always come. And once they do, love them and put them out for the world to read. Yes, you have to be careful with how much you share, but share you must as that is something you were born to do.

You've been through so much in your now twenty-six years of life - sometimes with no one else there to hold your hands and sometimes with a community of people to build you up and wrap their arms around you. And you've always come through.

Life hasn't been what you expected. But that's where all of the beauty comes from as you're living the life God designed for you - not a life that He designed for someone else and then plugged you into when it didn't work out for that someone else. This life is the one you are meant for. Please enjoy it and love it.

And please stop comparing yourself to others. There are so many things you have seen and survived that might have been the end for someone else. But there are also other things that might have been the end for you that others survived.

You are where you are for a very specific reason and purpose. I know you want to understand why and you want to when things are going to "get better," but it is time to let go and to simply live your life and love yourself so that you in turn can love others and show others how to love themselves.

Today is Valentine's Day 2012, and I want you to take a deep breath and let these words sink in. Not necessarily the words I've written to you but the words God has placed in your heart - the words that speak of His truth, His love of you, and His hopes for you. Valentine's Day is about love - not just the romantic kind but all kinds. And today you need to realize how loved you are by God.

Let the breath out, then go look at yourself in the mirror.

You are beautiful. You are wonderfully made. You are a light in a world that is often too dark. You are filled with hope. You are brave. And even though it often seems like things will never improve, they will, and you will survive just as you always have.

Now I want you to take in another deep breath and close your eyes. Think of what you want from this life. Say a prayer that God would continue to guide you. Imagine the faces of the people who you can help, the people you can tell your story too. As you let out this deep breath, open your eyes and start moving.

This is the time for you to live your life out for God and in the process learn how to love yourself the way He first loved you.

Love,
The Girl In The Mirror

(title from "today was a fairytale" by taylor swift)

i'm happy to know you

2012-02-13T06:07:00.000-06:00

I worked until 11:00pm on Friday night, and the first thing I noticed when I stepped inside my house was that it was clean.

We're not the tidiest of couples. Add two shedding dogs into the mix plus a wife (me) who is now working 60 hours a week, and being not so tidy quickly turns into overwhelmingly messy. So to come home to a house cleaned by my husband warmed my heart.

My husband knows exactly what I need - even though I don't always know what I need. He's proven that time and time again.

The clean house was just the start to the weekend he planned for Valentine's Day. He wanted to make sure that I didn't have to worry about a single thing this weekend - allowing me time to relax. The clean house also provided us a chance to continue our Valentine's Day tradition of dinner and a movie.

Valentine's Day 2008

It's a little cliché, but that's how we spent our first Valentine's Day as a couple and then a year later our first Valentine's day as a married couple. We almost didn't have a first Valentine's Day date; he convinced me that I wouldn't see him and I was crushed.

But then he surprised me and showed me that he knew me well and would always find a way to make me feel special.

To read more about our first Valentine's Day and the expectations I had (and then learned to put aside), you'll have to visit Jordy Liz Blogs where I am guest posting for the day!

(title from "paperweight" by joshua radin)

done looking for the critics (week 13)

2012-02-10T07:23:00.000-06:00

This week, I've thought a lot about letters. I've even sent a few out into the universe care of twitter. There's so much left to say - so much I haven't had time to say this week - and I can't form all of it into a blog post, but I can write letters.

Dear Husband,
I'm glad you've found frozen food (steamable Lean Cusinines, anyone?) you can eat when I'm working nights. And I'm even more glad we have family and friends who will feed you homecooked dinners. You've been so supportive with me changing jobs and working two jobs, and I am so grateful for that and for you. Our lengthy phone conversations make me feel even closer to you. Can't wait for an entire weekend with you (and our two demanding dogs).

Dear BootCamp,
You challenge me. And it scares me. I want to challenge myself when I'm not with you (at you? doing you?). But I don't know how to. I'm hoping that my last week with you will be the exact amount of knowledge I need to be able to challenge myself when I'm all alone at the gym. You also hurt - although I don't realize that until the next day. Thank you for reminding me that I'm not yet ready to run a marathon (or even a 5K). Also I hope to find your replacement soon and also hope that you can forgive me for thinking/saying you can be replaced.

Dear Self,
You might be sabotaging yourself. Or maybe you're just upset with the scale and giving into the higher number. Please remember that the scale fluctuates daily. You know what your real weight is. Remember that. And don't be afraid to ask for help if you can't seem to get the scale to go down. The number you see there is not the end all or be all. Also - do more jumping jacks and squats and go run/walk at least two miles today; that's an order. (PS: if you don't make it to the gym, forgive yourself and then do extra miles over the weekend and more squats; that's an order too.)

Dear Weight Watchers,
I've said no nearly every time someone has mentioned my joining you. I've said you were too expensive and that I didn't have time for your meetings. I think, though, I might have to join. I'm worth spending the money and time on after all. If I do become a member (again - we met in high school, remember?), please be nice and gentle.

Dear Husband (who gets 2 letters a la Today's Letters),
I don't know if I was supposed to see it or not, but I noticed a particular book sitting on the dining room table. Thank you, and I promise to act surprised if I am not supposed to know it's there. You listen so well and remember the things I want the most. Thank you for loving me with my love language and being patient with me as I continue to learn how to love you with your love language. (PS: I love revisiting our first dates and can't wait to be your "super hot" wife once I finish losing all this weight! Also thank you for supporting my ever changing hair color. Can't wait to be blonde [again] like I was back when we met in 2008.)

(title from "f*ckin perfect" by pink)

the rest of my life can't compare

2012-02-09T06:39:00.000-06:00

Whenever I go to a work-out class, the instructor begins by reminding everyone to take it to their own level. And so I do - or at least I try to.

It was easier to take it to my own level when my level was as low as it could be. When I walked into zumba for the first time, I knew I couldn't twist or turn as much as the other participants. I knew that just being in the class, standing for an hour, and trying to move was more exercise than I'd had in a very long time. And it was enough.

Now, nearly 10 months later, I can't do just the bare minimum - at least not if I want to burn calories and get fit. So, the question becomes, what can I do?

There are injuries that I've sustained in the past which keep me from some things. Or at least that's what I tell myself and other people. The closer I get to losing 100 pounds and being strong, though, the more I realize that the injuries are healing. The more I see that I can no longer hide behind the past knee surgeries, the past torn ligaments, the past things I used as excuses for why I didn't run or work out.

Boot Camp on Wednesday reminded me of this. We started with a warm-up that included jumping jacks. Taking it to my own level meant I had a choice: I could do the easier jumping jack (moving one leg at a time while moving my arms) or I could push myself and jump up and down - moving my legs in a way they haven't moved since high school. Timidly, I chose to push myself, and as I completed the first jumping jack, I realized that my body moved in a much different way than it had back in April. I realized that I really could do this thing they call exercise.

I didn't do every jumping jack perfectly. My feet didn't lift quite as high off the floor. But I did something I had no idea my body could do.

It didn't just stop there either. I found that I could pull my body all the way up into a fill sit-up with ease. I also found that running wasn't as difficult as it had once been. And those squats I used to be so fearful of? I was starting to enjoy them.

No one can tell me what I can do or can't do. It's up to me to listen to my body and to know just how far I can take it. My squats aren't as deep as some people's, and I do not run quite as quickly as others. But it doesn't matter. I'm not racing anyone but myself.

It's strange - this new body I have. It's a temporary weight, but it's 36 pounds lighter and much stronger than how I started. The capabilities my body has now are so much greater than what it had 10 months ago. And the capabilities will be even greater in another 10 months.

There is every possibility that I could do all those things when I was 36 pounds heavier, but I didn't believe in myself then. I didn't push myself then. But now, I do believe in myself and I love having something to push myself towards. I love telling myself that I really can do all these things and then seeing myself actually do them.

Watching other people helps. At Boot Camp, there are a hundred other people also working out. We're split into three teams based on our capabilities. I'm in the alpha group (AKA the beginners group), and I think that honestly I could have made it into the middle group if I had just pushed myself harder. When we completed the assessment, I didn't think I could do a full sit-up or run more of a mile. I needed this chance to sit back and watch everyone else and realize that I am stronger than I thought. I needed to be reminded that I'm not the same girl I was 10 months and 36 pounds ago. I needed to see other people doing exercises and then think to myself I can do that and then actually do it.

I talked a big game when I first started - mentioning how I wanted to run a marathon. And I do, but when I first said it, I thought it would never be possible. I thought it was a good dream to have but knew my knees wouldn't allow it. But now? Now it's a real possibility. Not today or tomorrow but somewhere in the future.

Nothing is out of reach for me now. Which is amazing and also terrifying. Rather than be scared, I'm going to choose to concentrate on all the amazing possibilities - another thing I never would have done 10 months ago.

(title from "they bring me to you" by joshua radin)

ten feet off the ground

2012-02-08T07:25:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I think losing weight should be easy. Maybe not for everyone but for me. For me it should be easy. I'm young. I don't have children to care for. I can cook whatever I want for dinner. My husband is supportive and pushes me to go to the gym even on the days that I don't want to.

But it isn't easy. It's really hard.

But it's not impossible. It's never impossible.

The Biggest Loser episode Tuesday night touched on the excuse of "I can't do it on my own." Weeks into their journey on the ranch and many of the contestants said that, were their trainer taken from them, they felt like they would fail without guidance. It made me want to reach into the television and shake every contestant because they already have something I don't have: eight hours (at least) a day to dedicate to exercise and meal planning.

The red team (spoiler alert) spent a week in the gym without a trainer telling them what to do. They were responsible for pushing themselves, for creating their work-outs, for making sure they burned every calorie possible. They did everything I am doing on a daily basis.

There are plenty of days when I don't do as well as I should. There are plenty of days when I don't push myself as hard as I should in the gym. Days when I choose something else over going to the gym. Days when I decide it's easier to eat something quick and unhealthy instead of spending the time to chop vegetables and cook a lean meat.

I don't have anything to tell anyone who is just starting out - other than my story. There's no trick to this whole weight loss or healthy living thing that I've found works 100% of the time. Yes, you need to watch what you eat and be active. But how each person does that is different. What I do works for me, most of the time, but it might not work for someone else.

Weight loss is constant. Meals need to always be planned and sometimes replanned. There's a choice to be made every night: sit on the couch at the end of the day or pack lunch and dinner for the next day.

My goal for this week has been to be prepared. I started the week off strong and didn't waiver from my already prepared meals on Monday. But then tonight happened, and my emotions got the best of me.

It would have been easy to say the week was a waste. A part of me wanted to say just that - to curl up on the couch after Community Group and simply watch The Biggest Loser. But hearing all their complaints about how the red team simply couldn't do it without a trainer made me realize how important it is to show myself that I can do this and that I won't let any excuses get in my way.

I'm continuing with food. I finished the baked scallops for lunch Tuesday and ate turkey chili for dinner Monday night. Lunch today will be turkey chili, and I threw together my own variation of Crock Pot Santa Fe Chicken (excluding corn and adding green bell pepper and onion as well as extra diced tomatoes) before slipping into bed last night.

Foods like ice cream, pizza, and fried chicken sandwiches I could eat for days on end. But I grow tired of baked chicken and fish, so my menu needs to constantly adapt. Baking bay scallops over the weekend and changing up the Crock Pot Santa Fe Chicken recipe did just that for me. Not only is the pallet change good but it reminds me that I can (and should) continue to stretch myself in the kitchen.

I think that's one of the reasons weight loss doesn't come easy for me. My love of bad-for-you food currently outweighs my love of good-for-you food. And I have to watch every single morsel of food I put into my mouth. I am constantly calculation how many calories I ate in a day, checking MyFitnessPal to see how many grams of protein I ate, and reminding myself that the ease of some foods is not worth it.

Some people can just watch calories. I'm not one of those people. Some people can spend hours in the gym and lose the weight. I'm not one of those people, either. For me everything has to be in line, so even though I don't have children to tend to, it's still hard for me.

There are times when I let other people's comments about how this is the time of my life to lose the weight get to me. Times when the voice inside my head takes their words and turns those words on me - causing me to wonder what it is that is so wrong with me that I've only lost 36 pounds in a 10 month period.

There is nothing wrong with me. Or with anyone who takes longer to lose the weight. Because as long as you're getting healthy, you're doing what you need to do for you.

Not everyone has the chance to go on The Biggest Loser. I don't - that's for sure. But I also remember that not everyone needs to be on The Biggest Loser to change their lives. I would love the opportunity, but I also love the fact that I am dispelling the excuse of "I can't do this without a trainer" every single day.

Baked Bay Scallops

Ingredients
1 lb. bay scallops (I used a frozen package of small scallops)
2-3 tablespoons of lemon juice (or to taste)
1/2 tablespoon dried rosemary (or to taste)
1/2 tablespoon dried thyme (or to taste)
1-2 tablespoons olive oil
Directions1. Pre-heat oven to 400. If needed, thaw scallops per instructions.
2. Combine all ingredients - mixing well.
3. Bake for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.

(title from "apologize" by onerepublic)

running around my head

2012-02-05T21:50:00.000-06:00

I spent much of last week adjusting to my new normal. But my adjustment period was more than an adjustment - it was a week filled with excuses and poor choices.

I ate fast food several times last week. And I made bad choices every single time - ordering french fries instead of asking for a side salad, getting a fried chicken sandwich instead of a turkey sandwich. When we went out for dinner on Saturday night, I ate lots of bread and polished off a plate of tortellini and alfredo pasta before eating Girl Scout cookies at a friends house.

I recognized what I was doing the entire time - but I didn't stop myself. I even went so far as to point out, at dinner on Saturday, that I recognized the healthy options but chose the unhealthy options because who wants to eat healthy food at a restaurant?

I'm not proud of those days or last week, but I learned (or re-learned actually) a valuable lesson. I am my own worst enemy, and I too easily fall back into old habits.

Real life does not always afford the opportunity to be in control of how something is prepared. Real life sometimes means grabbing dinner from a fast food restaurant, but you can always make a healthy choice.

I regretted my poor decisions every time. And every time I promised myself that it wouldn't happen again. But it did - until tonight.

We ate lunch with my in-laws earlier today. I enjoyed mashed potatoes and a roll along with some roast, and I finished the meal with a delicious, moist cupcake. Every bite was wonderful, but I knew that the evening would not go the way of the rest of the day (which started with breakfast from McDonald's). I was determined to take my newfound knowledge about myself and make a plan for the upcoming week.

I'd gone grocery shopping the week before and filled the refrigerator with fresh produce and meat. The freezer held frozen scallops, frozen mahi mahi, and other frozen meats. And once we were home from lunch, I set about cooking enough food to last me the rest of week. I have ratatouille to eat, grilled mahi mahi (recipe found here), baked scallops (recipe coming this week), and there is a batch of turkey chili (recipe also coming later this week) cooking in the CrockPot currently. There is also chicken thawing so I can make chicken salad and lightly smothered chicken later in the week.

I needed a week of failure. It reminded me of how easily it is to slip back into an unhealthy lifestyle and also reminded me of how far I've come. Because my choices weren't good but they could have been so much worse. And it showed me that I never want to go back to where I used to be.

I don't know how long I can eat a low-carb diet. I don't know if I'll be able to continue to stick with South Beach Diet for the remainder of my weight loss journey. I do know that I will never not eat fast food. I do know that, at some point if the future, I will forget to plan and will be faced with the choice of what to order while in the drive-thru.

When that happens, I will remember the last week - how I felt a few days feeling sick because of what I ate, how I spent a Sunday planning and cooking lunch and dinners. I'll remember the stress already cooked food eliminated from my life and that I didn't let a week of bad choices stop me from continuing on in my journey.

There were other lessons last week, too. Lessons that I'm still working through at the gym as I push myself to go faster on the elliptical. Lessons that I can't wait to really learn and then apply to the remainder of my journey.

(title from "why do i" by joe purdy)

done looking for the critics (week 12)

2012-02-03T07:18:00.000-06:00

I'm still here - just adjusting to a new normal. That's how the next few weeks, maybe in the next month or two, will be.

My new normal includes a 60-hour work week. Right now, it's 20-hours at a part-time job and 40-hours at my current full-time job. In a few weeks, it will be 20-hours at a part-time job and 40-hours at a new full-time job. It sounds crazy to type that out and claim it as my life, but it's there. And I know that it is right where I am supposed to be.

But knowing it is right where I am supposed to be does not make it any easier. In fact, it makes a little more difficult because I can feel myself easing into the transitions and allowing things to take their course rather than planning how I will transition.

I see it the most, right now, with food and water and how those things seem to be slipping away from homecooked dinners and into fast food dinners where I don't make the best choices possible.

I'm not home at dinner time now. I'm driving between two work places and stopping at the healthiest and quickest place I can think of. And every time, I have a choice to make of what I will order. So far I haven't made the healthiest choices. I've had french fries instead of a salad and sourdough bread instead of wheat bread. I don't know why, though. Is it that I miss those foods and am saying to hell with watching every morsel of food? Or is that it's just so much easier to order food the way it comes rather than ask for it to be changed?

And the gym. Right now, I complete my work-outs during my lunch hour and then return to work sweaty and a little stinky. When I start my new full-time job, I may not have that as an option. So, then, when will I have time? I honestly don't know, but I do know that I will make time for the gym.

If I can make time to work two jobs, I can make time for the gym. If I can make time to spend with my husband, I can make time for the gym. There is no excuse for not having time.

And water. I don't drink nearly enough water. I try to, but I don't make it a priority. That needs to change - maybe more than anything. My body is craving it. I feel dehydrated when I wake from a night's rest. Yes, my food choices need some improving, but I've stayed at or below my calorie allotment each day this week. I have't consumed the amount of water I need.

So I know I need to plan much better than I have. There will be little time in the mornings to whip up dinner, and foods cooked in the CrockPot need to be done so the night before so I can take them for lunch, and maybe even dinner. And I need to recommit to myself and to this journey. Because without commitment, I will fail.

The commitment part almost seems more difficult than the planning. I am so tired of having to commit and then recommit. I am exhausted from reminding myself of why I am doing this in the first place. I'm over looking in the mirror, in the midst of zumba or another class, and seeing a girl that still has so long to go.

I'm ready for the journey to be over. I'm ready to know that I actually did it. I'm ready to see the hard work pay off and not just hear from others that it is paying off. I'm ready to be healthy and fit and to be able to tell others that they too can do it (without feeling like a hypocrite).

Right now, I feel like a hypocrite. I feel like a liar for telling people they can do it when I'm hurriedly eating dinner from Chik-Fil-A. I feel like I am somehow failing myself, and everyone else, because I'm not even to the halfway mark.

And yes, I could watch what I eat more and drink more water. I need to do those things. But even doing all of that exceptionally well does not guarantee that the scale will go down or my clothes will feel looser. The body is a tricky thing and sometimes it decides to hold onto the weight while other times the weight seems to fall off. Right now, I feel like my body is holding onto the weight, and refusing to let go, and it's making it difficult for me to remember that all of this is worth it.

I say all of this because it is where I am right now - not because I am giving up. Because I'm not. I know I have come to far to say "screw it" and return to the life I led before. I'm just trying to figure out how it all works together and how to make all of this my new normal.

Because it is my new normal. This weight loss journey doesn't end when the scale shows me I have lost 100 pounds. This weight loss journey ends when my life ends because even after I've lost the weight, I will still fight for my healthiness and fight to keep the weight off.

(title from "f*ckin perfect" by pink)

it's always worth the sacrifice

2012-02-01T07:28:00.000-06:00

Boot Camp started on Monday, and I arrived at the gym at exactly 11:58am - right on time. I got my name tag and joined the other 100 participants - a combination of students and employees. People of all ages. People of all sizes. People of all fitness levels.

The first day was to be a fitness tests. Push ups, crunches/sit-ups, squats, and a mile. There was talk from so many people about how they weren't fast or they weren't strong. And I said to them, reminding both them and myself, that it didn't matter how fast they went or how slow. As long as they were moving, they were passing everyone on the couch.

Many of the people were more fit than they said they were. The people who complained about how slow they would complete the mile ended up finishing much faster than they expected. Most people were faster than I was.

And that's okay. Because I never stopped. And where I was Monday was so much father than I was in April.

I finished a mile in 16 minutes and 22 seconds - walking most of it and doing some interval running. I wasn't the first to finish, but I also wasn't the last. I discovered, too, that I could run more of it if I put my mind to it, and next time I will do just that.

I can do squats. Quite a few of them actually. I know the proper form. In April, I was terrified of hurting myself and refused to do squats. Now I welcome the challenge.

I can do push-ups on my knees. I know they aren't a "full" push-up, but it's still a big deal for me. I made excuses about how I have bad knees in the past, that I couldn't do push-ups, but the truth is that I can.

I could do a full sit-up if I chose to, and I can do more proper crunches now than ever before.

Slowly but surely I am becoming an athlete.

Boot Camp runs until the end of March, but I'll only participate in it through the middle of February as I'm taking on a new position at a new company. Once I am done with boot camp, I plan on taking everything I learn there and applying it to my future work outs.

My life is changing so much, and it's terrifying. It's also incredibly exciting, and I feel so unbelievably blessed to have so many opportunities - within work, within my marriage, and within my healthy living initiative.

10 months ago I never would have expected any of these changes. 10 months ago I would have thoughts all this change was impossible. 10 months ago I wondered if it was even worth the effort. And now here I am.

I want you to know that it is possible - every last bit of it - for me and for you. You just have to stop making excuses and get off the couch. And remember that you are only competing against yourself.

It will take time, but we will all make it to where we want to be.

(title from "play on" by carrie underwood)

run with me through sheets of jungle rain

2012-01-29T20:35:00.001-06:00

I had every intention of taking at least one day off this weekend. At least one day away from the gym - at least one day where I didn't get sweaty and stinky.

I thought my body needed to rest. Life has been moving incredibly quickly, and the pace has no intention of slowing down any time soon. There's a full-time job to work, a husband to care for, two dogs to feed, a part-time job to start working, a novel to write, another 65 pounds to lose, and a blog to update.

Saturday was going to be my day off. I spent the afternoon with my husband, eating sirloin and shrimp at Saltgrass Steakhouse and then meandering through Half Price Books. My plans for the evening included dinner with my college roommate, and so, I decided, there wouldn't be time for working out.

Except I made time.

After Half Price Books and before dinner, I headed to Lane Bryant to spend a $40 gift cheque (IE: free money) and then some while my husband perused Best Buy and Mardel's. When I walked into Lane Bryant, I was confident knowing that I wore a size 16 in pants and a size 14 in shirts. I intended to purchase a pair of black skinny jeans and possibly a shirt or two.

I walked out of the store with a camisole, a zip-up hoodie, a shirt, and socks but no pants. When I tried on the pants, they were too small and too short. I tried on a pair of dress pants, again in a size 16, and again they were the tiniest bit too small. I felt deflated.

The scale shows a loss. My clothes (mainly my shirts) show a loss. People tell me they can see the difference, but my hips are not shrinking at the same pace.

Months ago, I may have given up. I would have wondered why try and dove into a bowl of ice cream. But this time, I let myself be frustrated and sad, and then I squeezed in a hour long work out.

I pounded out two miles on the treadmill, two miles on the stationary bicycle and then spent another 18 minutes doing lower body weights. I felt great after the work out and slipped the feeling into my back pocket - knowing I would need a reminder, at some point, of why I go to the gym.

This afternoon I had the house to myself and spent a tiny bit of time cleaning, some time working on our taxes, and a little more time writing out a grocery list. And then I headed to the gym for another hour long work out.

Spending time alone is how I recharge. I'm an outgoing person and want to be friends with everyone, but I always need time away from everyone. It used to be that I would spend that alone time on the couch - catching up on certain television shows my husband won't watch with me. And while I do still love taking the time to simply rest and let my mind wander while I watch Grey's Anatomy, I also love the feeling of running/walking a mile on the treadmill, being sweaty after a particularly grueling session of the stationary bicycle, and working my muscles until they hurt.

There are plenty of times when I struggle to complete a work-out. During those times, I count down the minutes I have left on the machine and remind myself that I'm almost done. But there are other times when I feel like I could stay at the gym all day long. Saturday and Sunday were days when I felt like I could stay at the gym all day long.

I needed that reminder. I needed to feel that love for exercise again. I needed to hold onto the feeling that working out is a great way for me to spend time with just myself and recharge. Because I know that working out will only get more difficult with how busy life is about to be, but I also know that it needs to be a priority because it is essential for me to take care of me.

It is also essential for me to plan out meals and cook as much as possible over the weekend because I refuse to let my busyness become an excuse for why I stopped losing weight or even gained weight. And that's what I kept in mind while I completed grocery shopping after my super sweaty Sunday work out.

I purchased lots of chicken, a large pack of sirloin steak, sausage and brautwursts, and also plenty of vegetables to make ratatouille as well as enough cauliflower to make several servings of Surprise South Beach Mashed Potatoes.

This diet is definitely not for everyone, and it's also not the easiest thing to always stick to. It annoy my husband that I can't eat everywhere and depresses him (and me!) that eating at a Mexican restaurant means no chips and queso. It also makes splitting a pizza difficult, but it's worth it because it works for me.

Mashed potatoes (or really potatoes of any kind) are one of my favorite things to eat, so substituting them with cauliflower works well. It's not perfect and doesn't taste exactly like mashed potatoes, but this side is perfect alongside grilled turkey brautwurst (which is what I ate it with tonight) or a sirloin steak.

This was my third time to make the recipe, and I've adapted it from the original recipe, which I found in The South Beach Diet book while at my parents house in Texas. It's now good enough to share; so good, in fact, that I got my husband's approval and agreement to eat it again.

Knowing I'm making healthy choices and "whipping" up easy healthy recipes is something I enjoy, too. I feel accomplished spending time in the kitchen, and it serves as another reminder of just how committed I am to being healthy. I just wish the kitchen would clean itself after I cooked.

Surprise South Beach Mashed Potatoes

Ingredients:

1 head of cauliflower chopped and then steamed OR 1 bag of frozen cauliflower florets steamed

1-2 tablespoons I Can't Believe It's Not Butter

3-5 tablespoons of low-fat or non-fat Half & Half

1 garlic clove minced

3/4 cup non fat cheddar cheese (or to taste)

1 tablespoon dried chives

Directions:

1. Steam cauliflower.

2. Puree the cauliflower, I Can't Believe It's Not Butter, Half & Half, garlic, cheese, and chives until smooth. The consistency should be identical to the consistency of mashed potatoes.

3. Season with salt and pepper (optional).

(title from "green apples" by chantal kreviazuk)

done looking for the critics (week 11)

2012-01-27T07:23:00.000-06:00

There are many things I love about the blogging world, and one of those things is interaction. On Thursday, a few questions were asked on one of the blogs I frequent, and I've considered my answer since Thursday morning.

What keeps you motivated? What keeps you inspired? Why do you continue to fight over and over again for your healthiness? Is the reason you started different than the reason you keep fighting?

I thought about my answer for roughly thirty seconds, read through some of the already posted answers, considered everything I've written about on my blog, and then typed out I do it because...
I feel better about myself. I’m less stressed (and less bitchy to be honest) when I’m exercising. I’m healthier. I like seeing the diminishing number on the scale. Once I hit 100 pounds lost, I get a new wardrobe. I deserve to love myself. I want to be the woman God intended me to be – and that means healthy. I know I am not alone. I’m worthy of feeling beautiful. It is time to stop hiding behind the weight and start living my life for all to see.

Those answers are true, but there's more to it than just that. Of course, I didn't realize that until I started "shaking my ass" in zumba at 12:00pm that day. Watching some of the girls in the class, I realized how much I wanted to feel comfortable in workout attire and in a workout class. It reminded me that I don't want to feel like the fat girl any more. I want to feel, and look like and be, the fit girl.

I want to be able to wear cute workout clothes from Lululemon (as well as from Nike and Jillian Michaels line). I want to shop in any store I wish because I know the clothes are likely to fit. I want to be proud of my body and no longer ashamed. But I didn't mention any of those things in my original answer to the question because I was ashamed and didn't want to seem vain.

If vanity were the only reason I was losing weight, I would have quite by now. I might look better than I did when I started in April, but I'm so far from where I want to be that I sometimes wonder if I will ever get there. So I remember the other reasons - that I feel better about myself, that I'm a nicer person, that I'm healthier.

I get comments from people that I look so much better than I did months ago - that the changes are evident. I believe them, but I struggle to see those changes myself. Because I want to be at my ideal weight, wearing clothes from J. Crew and Express and Lululemon - not in the process of getting there.

Still, it's good to be reminded of why I am doing what I am doing. It's good to remember all of the reasons I have to get off of the couch and into the gym. It's necessary to hold onto the reasons I cook dinner instead of stopping at Taco Bell or Wendy's.

Reading the responses to the questions was also inspiring. It reminded me that we all started with a reason to work out and to eat better. Even the cute girls in zumba started with a reason. For all I know, they started where I was: unhealthy and needing a change. And it's essential that I remember that rather than look at everyone else with frustration because they are where I want to be.

I'll get there. Slowly but surely I will get there. And I'll remember that just because the scale doesn't reflect my effort does not mean that my body isn't changing. Muscle takes up less space than fat, and I'd rather be a higher, healthier weight with lean muscle than a lower weight with lots of flab.

Because while it is about the diminishing number on the scale, I have to remember that a 5 pound loss on the scale may look more like a 10 pound loss on my body - especially considering how much more room fat takes versus muscle. Until recently, I didn't really think about that, but now I try to remember it every time I step onto the scale and pass by a mirror.

Eating makes a huge difference in weight loss - a bigger difference than exercise really as you can't out exercise a bad diet, but exercise makes a bigger difference, for me, in every day life.

What does it for you? What keeps you motivated? Why do you continue to fight over and over again for your healthiness?

(title from "f*ckin perfect" by pink)

waiting for this moment to arise

2012-01-25T21:34:00.001-06:00

I spent 45 minutes on the elliptical during my lunch hour and completed a 5k. It wasn't the easiest work out because I struggled mentally. Every muscle in my arms hurt after my strength training work out from Tuesday, and I was exhausted after a Tuesday spent rushing from work to the grocery story to community group and then finally home for a late night dinner.

Napping under my desk sounded like the best way to spend my lunch hour, but I knew I would regret not stepping foot in the gym. So I went.

At first, I told myself I would finish two miles and then switch to the stationary bicycle. But by the time I hit two miles, I felt a shift and knew that I wanted to spend my time sweating on the elliptical and not switching to a less intense work out.

During the 45 minutes on the elliptical, I burned 420 calories according to my heart rate monitor. Had I plugged my weight into the elliptical, it might have said that I burned closer to 500 calories. When I put the time spent on the elliptical into MyFitnessPal, it suggested that I had burned over 600 calories. I trust that my heart rate monitor knows best, so I trust the number that pops up on the screen rather than trusting what the machine or the computer says.

I've done a little research and found that cardio machines are often wrong with the number of calories burned. The elliptical tends to over estimate while the treadmill, and stationary bicycle, under estimate. I've found the same to be true with MyFitnessPal as I generally burn more calories while walking than it says, less calories while on the elliptical, more calories when weight lifting, less calories while on the stationary bicycle, and more calories while swimming.

Knowing this helps me a lot. It reminds me of just how hard I have to work to burn calories. Because I do have to work hard. I don't burn the calories without pushing myself and trying harder each and every day. It also reminds me of just how important watching what I eat is; I don't want to ruin my time in the gym by eating too much food or the wrong foods.

So, you could say my relationship with MyFitnessPal is a love and hate relationship. Just like my relationship with other things is a love and hate relationship.

You see I have a love and hate relationship with my kitchen. I love it because it's mine, and it's the kitchen where I've first learned how to cook and also discovered how much I truly love cooking. But I hate how small it is.

One day I'l look back at our small kitchen with fondness and humor. One day I'll remember how I functioned in our kitchen and realize how thankful I am to have a large kitchen - my dream kitchen. Just like one day I'll look back at my 15 minute mile with fondness and then at my much faster mile with excitement.

The further I get into this process the more time I spend in the kitchen. When I got home from work today, I headed immediately into the kitchen and started cleaning and then moved onto making ratatouille (with melted monterrey jack cheese on it) and grilling sirloin on my 5-in-1 Cuisinart griddle/grill combo. And while I love spending time in the kitchen, I hate how cramped it is (and how I seem to step on at least one dog during the process of cooking).

Having a love and hate relationship could have easily stopped me from pushing on towards my goal in the past. But now I know that the love and hate relationship signals, for me, a balance and also that I am well on my way to doing what I need to do - regardless of how I feel about it.

I feel like I so often repeat myself on this blog and that I mention learning the same lessons over and over. I wonder if I should just not mention the lessons that hit me during the most mundane tasks - especially if I've talked about them before - but the last thing I want to do is leave out anything important.

Spending time doing the things I both love and hate today made me realize that, even though I have a ways to go, I'm so much closer to loving these things than I am to hating them. And by loving these things, I'm so much closer to figuring out who I really am.

I've been myself for 26 years, but it's been the past nine months that have opened me up to the person I want to be and to the person I already am. Without excess weight to hide behind, I'm ready to step out and try new things and celebrate my successes instead of ignoring any positive words I might hear. And I can't wait to see all the other things I learn about myself (and cooking!) over the next nine months.

Eggplant Ratatouille (adapted from this recipe):

Ingredients:

1 medium eggplant, cut into 1" pieces

1/3 cup olive oil

4 garlic cloves, pushed through a press

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary

1/2 teaspoon dried thyme

1 teaspoon black pepper

1 medium zucchini, cut into 1" pieces

2 yellow squash, cut into 1" pieces

1 small tomato, cut into 1/2" pieces

1 small onion, thinly sliced

Directions:

1. Heat oven to 425 F.

2. Remove skin from eggplant.

3. Sprinkle eggplant with salt; place in a colander and let bitter juices drain 20 minutes.

4. Rinse eggplant and pat dry.

5. In a 10 x 15 baking dish, mix oil, garlic, salt, rosemary, thyme, and pepper. Add vegetables (I sliced mine and placed them in the dish as the eggplant drained) and toss to coat evenly with oil mixture.

6. Cover dish with foil and bake 15 minutes. Uncover and cook 30 minutes more, mixing occasionally, until vegetables are tender and browned.

This recipe makes 6-7 servings. Each serving is 1 cup and contains approximately (calculated using MyFitnessPal): 109 calories, 14g carbohydrates, 5g fat, 4g protein, 0g sugar.

For the steak, I used a low sodium montreal steak seasoning mixed with water and olive oil. I let the steak marinate for about 30 minutes and then cooked it on medium-medium high heat for about 15 minutes.

(title from "blackbird" by sarah mclachlan)

no dreams tonight to interrupt

2012-01-24T22:56:00.001-06:00

It seems impossible that just a week ago I was getting ready to head to Texas. It's hard to believe that I've been back in Oklahoma for two full work days so far.

I landed on Sunday afternoon, after a flight filled with turbulence. My husband was rushing to the airport, ready to surprise me with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. My flight landed 15 minutes early, and after getting my luggage from baggage claim, I met him halfway to the parking garage and carried the flowers the rest of the way to the car.

In college, I always wanted someone to pick me up at the airport with flowers or a sign or something equally romantic, but it never happened. Thankfully, it has now.

Also in college, I told everyone that I never wanted to move back to Texas. And at that time, I didn't. I also didn't want to stay in Oklahoma following my graduation from college. Now I would love to move back to Texas.

My main priority right now needs to be health. Spending time in Texas gave me a much needed break from stress, but it also provided me with the opportunity to eat a lot and drink a lot. I loved every moment I spent with my family and enjoyed every glass of wine I drank. But now that I am back in Oklahoma, I'm returning to watching what I eat and adhering to the principles of the South Beach Diet Phase One.

When I'm back in Texas, it's easy. I feel like I fit. There's this sense of loving every bit of the time spent there - rediscovering cities like The Woodlands and Seabrook and imagining myself living there.

The South Beach Diet Phase One is like Texas. I feel like I fit and that it fits me. It's not always easy, but I am rediscovering the foods I can eat and slowly starting to crave some healthy foods rather than just wanting a crispy chicken sandwich from Wendy's or What-A-Burger.

My first craving came on Saturday while I was in Texas. I finished a three-mile walk outside and had a little over an hour to eat lunch and shower before heading to the movies with my parents and aunt. I threw together a mixture of veggies and cut up a piece of grilled salmon to put on top of the salad. It was delicious, and I got another craving for a salad on Monday. While my husband consumed chips and queso for dinner, I ate a Mexican cobb salad.

I purchased all the fixings for a salad on Tuesday when I went to the grocery store, and when I finally sat down to dinner a little after 9:00pm on Tuesday, I did so with a salad that included homemade chicken salad (recipe below).

The recipe calls for 3 cups shredded chicken breasts, but I used two bags of the Tyson diced chicken breast this time around. Next time, I think I would do my best to bake my own chicken and then shred it. I also chopped three stalks of celery and mixed the celery in with the chicken, sour cream, lemon zest, scallions, and parsley. I then served the mixture over romaine lettuce and chopped tomatoes.

It would have been all too easy to grab sushi at the grocery store or stop at Chik-Fil-A for one of their sandwiches. And I thought about doing both those things. The only reason I didn't was that I decided that I needed and wanted to fully commit to eating the way the South Beach Diet instructs.

Phase One is a two-week phase, but the lifestyle of the South Beach Diet is set up in such a way that I can return to Phase One whenever I need to. And since I enjoyed food, cupcakes, and wine while in Texas, I'm sticking with Phase One for another week before reintroducing some fruit and carbohydrates into my diet.

I never really thought I could do this - watch what I eat so closely and eventually begin to prefer healthy food over unhealthy food - just like I never thought I would miss Texas. But the more weight I lose, the more I enjoy the healthy foods and the less I want to eat french fries.

Phase One Friendly Chicken Salad:

Ingredients:

3/4 cup nonfat sour cream

3 scallions, minced

1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh parsley

1/2 teaspoon grated lemon peel

Salt & pepper (to taste)

3 cups shredded cooked chicken breasts (or 12 ounces of already cooked diced chicken breast)

3 stalks of celery, diced (optional)

8 large lettuce leaves

1 roma tomato, diced (optional)

1 cup diced cucumber (optional)

Balsamic vinaigrette dressing (optional)

Directions:

1. In a medium bowl, combine the sour cream, scallions, parsley, lemon peel, and salt and pepper to taste. Toss well to blend.

2. Add the chicken and celery and toss to coat.

3. Serve on a bed of lettuce leaves with tomatoes and cucumber. Drizzle with balsamic vinaigrette dressing.
This recipe makes 4 servings. Each serving contains approximately (calculated using MyFitnessPal): 365 calories, 13g carbohydrates, 27g fat, 24g protein, 9g sugar (does not include cucumber or dressing).

(title from "stay awake" by julia nunes)

done looking for the critics (week 10)

2012-01-21T09:17:00.003-06:00

I flew into Texas earlier in the week. My flight landed early in the morning, and I immediately went to breakfast (really lunch for me given my early flight) with my mom. Then it was shopping and finally the first massage of my life. After that, it was welcoming my aunt's surprise visit and then setting about making, and eventually consuming, dinner (my mom grilled salmon, we made eggplant ratatouille, and also made mashed potatoes out of cauliflower - it was delicious).

The quickness of the trip continued when I made breakfast for my mom (a 2 egg and 3 egg white scramble with a poblano pepper, a green bell pepper, mushrooms, spinach, and feta cheese along with a side of canadian bacon), finished getting ready for the day, and then spent the following afternoon with my mom, my aunt, and my nana where we ate lunch at a Japanese restaurant (I ate a house salad, sashimi with jalapeno and cilantro as an appetizer, and then also a sashimi roll with fish and avocado).

There are some principles I haven't followed for the first two weeks of the South Beach Diet. I mentioned some previously but have added more - like several glasses of wine and a total of one cupcake over the span of two weeks.

I also mentioned before, and will continue to mention, that I refuse to be angry at myself for these things. Because this is real life, and real life is meant to be enjoyed - not just survived.

It all comes down to choice. Sometimes we don't make the perfect choices, but we can still say no to the things we don't really need.

We had a shrimp boil, and I said no to both the potatoes and corn (I eat steamed cauliflower and broccoli instead) but yes to the wine and part of a cupcake. I could easily think that these yeses were a mistake, or I could remind myself that it is not every day that I am in Texas, celebrating my mom's birthday, and that it's okay to enjoy a few glasses of wine - especially since I rarely drink in Oklahoma.

I'm adhering, still, to the principles of mainly carbohydrate and sugar free eating but balancing it with the beauty that life offers in the form of a glass of pinot grigot.

And I am so thankful for this week. It's offered me the chance to look at myself and my life and to see just how far I've come. It's also providing me the chance to realize just how much I enjoy this process of healthy living and thus sharing my experiences.

As I said earlier, my mom surprised me with a hot stone massage. I've always loved the idea of a massage, but I've always been fearful of actually having one. I carry most of my stress in my neck and shoulders, and so I am always tense. Whenever someone tries to rub my shoulders, it tends to hurt because of how much stress I carry and because of how tender I am.

Luckily, the massage was a wonderful experience. It didn't hurt. I felt relaxed the whole time, and I couldn't believe an hour had already passed.

The strange part was that I talked to the masseuse the entire time. Most of the conversation was about exercise, food, and eating healthy. Maybe I should have been quiet and just relaxed, but I felt a little awkward lying face down on the massage table, naked and covered by a sheet, while someone worked on all the kinks in my body. So I talked.

And after the massage ended, once I finally rolled off the table and got dressed, I felt incredibly relaxed as well as incredibly excited that I got to talk to someone about what I've done so far to lose weight.

I tell people that I started this journey at the end of April in 2011 and that I've lost 35 pounds so far. The response is always the same - excitement of my loss and encouragement at how well I have done so far. It's hard for me to accept that response as I often feel like I haven't lost enough weight and quickly enough. But what I realized after the massage was that it doesn't matter how quickly the weight comes off.

I wanted to lose 100 pounds in a year. That's not going to happen. It wouldn't be healthy to lose 65 pounds in three and a half months. But those 100 pounds will come off - maybe in a year and a half or maybe in two years. And as it comes off, I'll be able to continue to share my story and remind people that it is possible to lose weight.

My desire to be on The Biggest Loser or Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition is still present. But I'm now more aware of how important it is for people to see someone "normal" (AKA without a famous trainer, unlimited grocery budget, or environment designed to help weight loss) clawing and crawling and fighting to lose the weight at home.

Because we all deserve to be healthy and happy. And we all have the tools to do it. I just hope that my story somehow gives you the tools to do it; because if I can do it (and I can), then I promise you can too.

If it takes a year, great. If it it takes longer than a year, great. As long as we do it, the time doesn't matter.

(title from "f*ckin perfect" by pink)

all out of reasons to run

2012-01-19T06:03:00.000-06:00

My alarm was set to go off at 3:02am,but at 3:01am, I woke up with a start – worried that somehow I hadmissed the alarm and then, subsequently, missed my flight. There wasa sigh of relief, and then I was out of bed – moving through thehouse and finishing the task of packing, which is my least favoritepart of traveling.

It took me an hour to get dressed, putaway the remaining laundry, pack my suitcase, feed the dogs, forcethe dogs to take their medicine (the peanut butter trick doesn'twork; neither does hiding it in cheese), brew coffee for my husband,and throw my hair up. It was just after 4:00am when we left thehouse, and I was sitting in the airport – waiting to print myboarding pass – before 4:30am.

My flight was scheduled to leave at6:50am, and I knew there wouldn't be time to cook eggs and then eatbreakfast before leaving. In the past, I would have been excitedabout the prospect of eating on the go. It's not really possible toeat healthy, after all, when you are in the midst of traveling. Andif you can enjoy tater tots from Sonic, or a really large blueberrymuffin, you should.

Except this time was different. Thistime I was determined not to just eat what was available to me. So Ibecame the person with a special request, and the restaurant of mychoice obliged.

It wasn't the best breakfast I've everhad. The egg would have tasted better between a plain bagel or twopieces of sourdough bread, but since bread is not an option, I ate itmixed with sauteed bell peppers and onions and sprinkled with (toomuch) cheese.

And there wasn't anything said aboutthe lack of bread. It cost the same as it would have cost to purchasethe whole sandwich (wouldn't it be nice if it was less, though, sinceI ate less food?). But I felt better about what I ate than I wouldhave otherwise. Of course, I did put a little too much half and halfinto my coffee, but really, I'm the sort of person who likes coffeewith my creamer so at least I cut it back some.

A lot of people mention how restrictivethe South Beach Diet is and how they couldn't do it. And it isrestrictive and not the easiest thing in the world. But it's also notimpossible.

Like anything, it comes down to choice.I choose to watch what I eat. I choose to adhere as closely to theplan as I can – though I did have the tiniest sliver of pepperonipizza for dinner Wednesday night. My butternut squash soup justwasn't cutting it.

It would be easy to say that I failedby eating pepperoni pizza Wednesday night. Really, it would have beenbest not to eat it. But by eating the tiniest sliver, I showed myselfthat I can eat some unhealthy things without feeling like I need toeat all of it as I have in the past. After all, it wasn't too longago that I practically refused to share a frozen pizza with myhusband.

I mentioned my little cheats from overthe weekend. And I feel like I need to mention the cheat I hadWednesday night because I don't want anyone to think that I'm goingalong perfectly and without struggle through this two week phase.Because I'm not. I don't know how people can do it perfectly becausesometimes you need that something extra.

And maybe if I hadn't eaten the sliverof pepperoni pizza or the handfuls of popcorn I would have lost 7pounds by now instead of just 5. I don't think it really mattersthough. I feel so much better than I did just a week ago and that'sworth so much more than those two extra pounds.

I also feel more confident in myability to live a healthier lifestyle. After a month of neverstepping foot in a gym and a month of eating more ice cream than Ihad over the past few months, I really wondered if I could actuallymake the change from unhealthy to healthy. I wondered if I would beable to maintain a healthy weight if I ever got down to my goalweight. The past week has shown me that I can say no and still besatisfied with what and how I am eating.

Right now, I'm reading the bookUnlimited by Jillian Michaels. I usually read through books asquickly as I can, but this time, I am slowing down and really lettingher words resonate with me. And they are.

There are so many quoted from her bookthat are applicable. But the one that really makes me think, at leastat this moment in time, is “Understanding how you think aboutyourself and why you react to life the way you do will allow you tochange any behavior, knock out any mental obstacle, and create anyreality you desire.”

I'm definitely learning how I think andwhy I react. I'm taking a hard, hard look at all the reasons I usedto eat so much ice cream and fight over pizza with my husband –even pout if he got to eat more of the pizza than I did. And theunderstanding and realizations have made it much easier to embrace ahealthier lifestyle.

I think that's the point of the SouthBeach Diet, and really any eating plan. It's not about how muchweight I can lose in two weeks. It's about bidding farewell to thefoods that have no real place in your life and then slowly wavinghello to the foods that will fuel you once you learn how to properlyand responsibly consume them.

(title from "catch me" by tony lucca)

like a sun comin' out of a rainy sky

2012-01-18T09:39:00.000-06:00

We walked through the front door of our house after 9:00pm Tuesday night. My first thought was to begin tackling the laundry - both the clothes that needed to be washed and the clean clothes waiting to be folded. I hung my coat up in the closet and then started the short trek to the laundry room.

My husband caught me, already dressed in his sweatpants and ready for bed. He put his arm around my waist and told me that I looked smaller, that he noticed the hard work I've put into watching what I ate for the last week and ensuring that I spend time in the gym.

I needed that. More than I even knew I needed it.

We talked about our Love Languages last night at dinner as a couple. It's easy to name my love language or my husband's love language, but it's hard to put it into action and actually love each other with that language.

One of my love languages is words of affirmation. I want to know that the dinner I cooked tasted good. I want to know that the effort, however much or little, I put into the house is appreciated. I want to know that, when I spend time putting on make-up and straightening my hair, I look pretty.

Hearing him say that I looked smaller spoke so clearly to me and to my heart. Because today has been tough. I'm hungry - so very hungry - but I can't bring myself to eat more lean meat, more vegetables.

Phase One of the South Beach Diet allows for me to eat as much lean protein as I want. There's a lot of freedom in knowing that I can eat as much of certain items, but after a week, I'm tired of eating chicken and fish without any sort of carbohydrate. I miss macaroni and cheese. And I miss ice cream.

But I know this struggle is worth it. Hearing my husband tell me, without any sort of prompting and in the midst of my thinking about all the things I needed to get done around the husband, that my hard work was noticed solidified the knowledge that the struggle and the hunger, because I am hungry most of the time, and the dislike of eggs (which I eat every morning), is more than worth it.

I haven't eaten perfectly over the past week. Friday night, we had dinner with friends, and I ordered a cup of the chicken chili. There was corn in the chili, but I still ate it. I also ate two (large) bites of a chocolate croissant on Friday night. And I've added creamer into my coffee each day I've had coffee.

But I've also had success. I said no to bread at Outback Steakhouse on Saturday night and ate a healthy salad and a lean steak for dinner. On Monday, when we met with friends for lunch, I took the croutons out of the crab bisque and all the apples off the chicken salad I ordered.

The thought of starting any healthy eating program is overwhelming. Because it changes everything. It doesn't change how you eat; it changes how you look at food. In the past, I wanted to enjoy food; I saw it as something to do with friends. I looked at food as a way to handle life. If I had a bad day, I ate to feel better. If I had a good day, I ate to celebrate.

Now I eat to survive. I eat the food that will fuel my body, and for me, a diet of more lean protein does just that. It is imperitive, for anyone wanting to be healthier and lose weight, to find a program that works for you. And there are numerous programs to choose from.

A friend of mine posted a link on Pinterest to a website that discusses different body types and how those body types impact a person's weight loss. Reading through the website showed me that the South Beach Diet works for me because it's something I can stick with and because, according to the site, it fuels my body with what I need to be healthy and get to a healthy weight.

Knowing that, I can't say I haven't thought about other eating plans like Weight Watchers. I even tried it in high school, and it did work for me. I can't say I also haven't thought about plans like NutriSystem, but I've never tried it because it would be far too easy for me to go back into an unhealthy eating pattern as I wouldn't have learned how to eat - I would have just eaten the food delivered to my house.

But I didn't chose either of those plans. I chose the South Beach Diet - again. I chose the plan that would help me to bid farewell to the carbohydrates and sugars. I chose the plan that is retraining me on how much food actually makes me full. I chose the plan that allows me to eat as much as I want, of certain foods, but is helping me to know that I don't really need to eat as much as I thought I did.

Phase One of the South Beach Diet is hard. It's no fun to not eat bread and to not eat sugars. But I'm more afraid of the upcoming phases. I'm afraid because I know that last time I did not do well reintroducing sugars and complex carbs. Last time, I jumped right into those foods and honestly forgot the knowledge I gained from Phase One. I chose whole wheat pasta over white pasta when I could but I ate more of those complex carbs than I really needed to fuel my body.

I also gave up last time. Halfway through the second week of Phase One, I stopped eating only the allowed proteins and vegetables. It became too hard, and I decided that I would no longer try.

But not this time. This time I am not giving up. This time I am holding onto the principles. This time I am remembering just how far I've come and looking at how far I have to go - knowing that the second week of Phase One of the South Beach Diet will help me get to where I need to be.

I will also hold onto the words of affirmations that my husband gave me. Words of affirmation that came exactly when I needed. And I will hold onto how accomplished I feel with 35 pounds lost, as of today.

(title from "let me feel you shine" by david crowder band)

pretty words to say

2012-01-17T12:40:00.000-06:00

This weekend I made mostly good choices. There were a few bad choices, like several handfuls of popcorn on Sunday night while watching Courageous and drinking more Diet Coke and Diet Dr. Pepper than water, but for the most part, I selected my food wisely - eating lots of salads and soups when we went out for dinner - and made it to the gym on Saturday and on Monday.

And that's okay. Because it's a process. And processes take time.

And, as much as I love to see a smaller number on the scale, it's really not about losing weight. It's about gaining knowledge and a new lifestyle.

I lost weight this weekend. But I gained more knowledge. And I really can't wait to share all that I learned during this first week of the South Beach Diet (take three).

(title from "turpentine" by brandi carlile)

done looking for the critics (week 9)

2012-01-12T20:57:00.001-06:00

I wish I could be on The Biggest Loser or Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition. I so wish I could be. But I can't.

There's nothing stopping me from applying other than myself. And maybe the fact that I might not have enough weight to lose.

The thought that if I gained more weight and then tried out has crept into my mind. If I got back to the weight I started at, then maybe, just maybe, I could get on the show. It's backwards thinking since I'm already well on my way to losing 100 pounds.

But there's something about seeing people's stories on television that gets to me. There's this huge part of me that wants nothing more than to be able to put my story out there on television as well. It's not that my story is all that interesting - because really it's no different than most people's. I've had plenty of hurts. Plenty of things have happened that helped me to gain weight. But I've dealt, and am dealing, with those things. I'm peeling back all the reasons I gained so much weight in the first place, and I'm taking a good, long hard look at myself in the mirror. And I'm learning to love myself again.

I'm doing all the things the contestants on The Biggest Loser and Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition do - working out, trying to eat right, sorting through all my issues. And I'm documenting it all here on this blog. But I'm able to filter some of it which isn't possible on television. I'm able to choose what I talk about and what I share. With a television show, it wouldn't be up to me to decide what aired and what didn't. That would be in the hands of the editor and producer.

I think that's part of the reason why I want to be on a show. I want there to be no filter, and honestly, I'm just not brave enough, right now, to take the filter away and talk about every single thing that led to my needing to lose so much weight.

But with television, there wouldn't be a choice. And with television, there would be a trainer and a life coach there with you - available always by phone. With a blog, there's just me and the gym. I have friends I can reach out to, but really it's up to me, and only me, to work through whatever I have to work through. Really it's up to me to succeed.

You can still fail with television. I know that. There was one failure on last season's Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition. And while it hurt me to know that person wasn't able to lose all the weight, it made me respect the show so much for their determination to be honest and really show that one person's year long story.

And, really, with a show like those there is so much support available to you. A home gym provided inside your house and healthy groceries for a year. Do you know what I could, and would, do with those things? Do you know how wonderful it would be to not have to worry about where to buy groceries and how much I am spending? Do you know how great it would be to know that as soon as I got out of bed I would have access to equipment?

I'm sure most people do know. Most people want those things too.

There's a part of me that has really wondered if I could do this. A part of me that thought losing 100 pounds would be impossible. And there's a part of me that, for about a month, made it impossible.

I've always been equally afraid of success and failure. If I fail, then what happens? But if I succeed, where do I go next? A month away from the gym was my way of stopping my success and also ensuring failure.

You see, when you spend months and months working out, it becomes a part of you. If I was angry, I exercised. When I was upset, I spent time on the elliptical. During the times when I was stressed and anxious, I turned to the gym.

And then I stopped. I blamed in on strep throat. And then on exhaustion. Finally on my knee. And instead of handling everything with time in the gym, I stopped handling things.

Stepping back into the gym on Monday was equally wonderful and terrible. I climbed onto the elliptical and finished a work out that rivaled the work outs I did before I stopped going to the gym. And I felt proud. Excited. Alive.

But then Tuesday came, and the time I spent in the gym was horrible. I was on the verge of tears during my time on the elliptical and then on the stationary bicycle. I didn't know why.

It happened again on Wednesday and on Thursday. All of these emotions rising up in me. Memories of how out of place I felt the first time I entered the gym. Memories of all the time I spent not exercising, all the time I spent taking care of everyone else but never myself. Reminders of how scary it is to begin living your life in a completely different manner.

I was on my way home from work on Thursday when it hit me - the reason it was so hard to get into the gym again after a month and the reason I've felt on the verge of tears all week. I took in a deep breath and then I let the tears fall. And I promised myself that, even though I'm not on a television show and even though I don't have what those of television shows have, I would never again let myself fail or come close to failure.

Because, not only can I do this, I am doing this.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

here we go again

2012-01-11T21:33:00.001-06:00

After weeks away from the gym, I was nervous. I've dealt with anxiety over exercising and what other people thought of me, but I overcame much of that anxiety. And then I stopped going to the gym.

I would tell myself that this would be the week that I started exercising again. I always meant it, but until this week, I didn't follow through. There were plenty of ~~reasons~~excuses. One was my knee.

In junior high, I had knee surgery on my left knee, and then the summer before my freshman year of college, I had knee surgery on my right knee. I've dealt with problems with my left knee (my knee cap moving out of place) for years. Spending hours at the gym alleviated many of the problems as I finally began strengthening the tendons and muscles in my knee.

But something happened with my right knee. I thought it was overuse and misuse. I would straighten my right leg, and my knee would pop loudly each time. I would bend my knees, and I would hear bone rubbing on bone. And I cringed every time. I decided I needed rest and used the rest as a reason to not work out. But the problems only got worse.

I finally started moving on Monday, and while my knee isn't fully fixed, it feels much better and is already making less noise. I can only attribute that to the past three days on the elliptical, consuming lots of water, and once again taking glucosamine (along with cranberry extract, fish oil, milk thistle, and a multivitamin).

When I stepped into the gym today, I did so with a mission. My upper body was sore after one day of rowing and yoga abs and then another day of upper body strength training, so I knew that my Wednesday work out would need to concentrate on something other than my arms and core muscles.

I decided to complete 40 minutes on the elliptical - 10 minutes more than what I did on Monday or Tuesday. Just moving on the elliptical wouldn't be enough, so I looked for interval work outs to fit my needs. But I didn't find anything I liked, so I created my own.

I spent the first 10 minutes on the elliptical increasing the incline. I kept my speed around 4mph. Then I completed 10 minutes of intervals. I moved at 4mph for 30 seconds and then increased my speed to somewhere between 5mph and 6mph for 30 seconds and then repeated that routine for 10 minutes. After that, I completed another 10 minutes on the elliptical increasing the incline and then another 5 minutes of intervals. I ended with a 5 minute cool down and then somehow made it back to my office to finish the rest of the work day. I was a sweaty, sore mess, but I loved every minute of it.

My day had the potential of turning out poorly. I was rushed this morning as I had something to take care of before work. Our coffeemaker also malfunctioned, so I left the house without an egg scramble and coffee. But instead of letting that determine my entire day, I made do with breakfast, eating turkey bacon and some cheese, and got my caffeine from somewhere else. And I finished the day without any cheating on phase one of the South Beach Diet.

I had planned on making turkey chili in the CrockPot for dinner, but my rushed morning made that impossible. My back-up plan was to make a taco salad, using lean ground turkey for the meat, but by the time I got home, I no longer wanted anything Mexican. In the past, I would have struggled to figure out what I wanted to eat, but I found a recipe on Pinterest that I knew would work for dinner.

It's only recently that I've truly started to cook, so most likely, I will be unable to take credit (ever) for full recipes. I say that because I want to make sure and give credit where credit is due.

Dinner tonight was lightly smothered chicken, although I smothered it a bit more. That's part of the beauty of the South Beach Diet. I can eat as much as I want of the right foods, and somehow I eat less than I do when I'm just watching what I eat.

I started with 12 ounces of baked chicken breast (the original recipe calls for grilled). The chicken breast was seasoned with Italian Seasonings; I baked it at 375° for 25-30 minutes on Monday. The juices ran clear, and it was not dry at all. I then sliced one green bell pepper, one onion, and 8 ounces of mushrooms. I sauteed all of the vegetables in 1 teaspoon of olive oil.

While the vegetables cooked for about seven minutes (they were still crispy - just like I like them), I smothered the chicken in dijon mustard. The original recipe calls for one tablespoon of dijon mustard, but I used more than that. Once the vegetables were finished cooking, I mixed them in a bowl with oregano, two cloves of minced garlic (the original recipe calls for one), sea salt, and pepper.

I put the vegetables on top of the chicken and then covered the chicken and vegetables with cheese. The original recipe called for mozzarella cheese, but I didn't have any so I used colby jack cheese. I also used more cheese than the original recipe because, well, I can eat lots of cheese. The dish cooked for approximately 10 minutes, just long enough for the cheese to melt and the chicken to be reheated, at 350°.

This is a recipe I will definitely be making again. I ate most of it for dinner, and my husband tried it as well. It's now one of his favorites. Next time I would make less onions as they aren't my favorite and use two bell peppers as well as increase the amount of chicken which would make enough food for two dinners and one lunch at least.

So much today was simple. A simple dinner, a simple work out. But it was what I needed because it showed me that I can do this - even when my morning is rushed and less than ideal. I needed that reminder.

(title from "sort of" by ingrid michaelson)

sometimes you just need a little faith

2012-01-10T22:33:00.001-06:00

My alarm went off at 4:02am on Monday morning, and I stumbled out of bed. My husband is required to be at work by 5am every day, so we get up in the morning together and I help him by making his coffee and putting his lunch together. Normally, I fall back into bed within 15 minutes and am back asleep within another 15 minutes.

Monday was different. Monday was the first day on phase one for the South Beach Diet. Monday was the first day of restarting my journey towards health.

After he left for work, I turned the oven on and set a pack of chicken breasts under a stream of water. My biggest struggle is planning. The South Beach Diet requires planning - especially phase one when there is no bread consumed, no fruit to be eaten, and it is almost impossible to eat processed foods.

That morning I baked tilapia and I tossed chicken, diced tomatoes, and black beans into the CrockPot. While the tilapia cooked, I settled back into bed and started my quiet time.

Weight loss is different for everyone. For me, it's a spiritual matter as much as it is a physical matter. I know that in the past I haven't done well putting my relationship with God, or with myself first, and I decided that this time around I would make sure that my relationship with God came first. Spending the twenty minutes reading my Bible and journaling prepared me for the rest of the day, and I knew that I would and could do it.

For breakfast, I sauteed spinach and then scrambled the spinach into two eggs and one egg white; I then mixed in 1/4 cup Mexican shredded cheese. I also cooked turkey bacon in the microwave. I brewed my coffee and then drank that on the way to work. I took the baked tilapia, sprinkled with Italian seasonings, for lunch and ate that along with a bag of steamed broccoli. Dinner that night was a South Beach Diet friendly adaptation of CrockPot Santa Fe Chicken meaning I skipped the corn and did not make rice to serve along with the chicken. I also made sure to drink almost 70 ounces of water and only one Diet Dr. Pepper. I ended the day with sugar free chocolate mousse from Jell-O.

I had hoped to make it to the gym Monday morning but between cooking, quiet time, and than taking one of our dogs to the vet, I didn't have time. But I knew I would have the lunch hour to spend at the gym. And I did just that.

I spent 30 minutes on the elliptical, 10 minutes on the rowing machine, and then 6 minutes doing yoga abs. By the time my lunch hour ended, I was sweaty, sore, and happy.

Tuesday started the same as Monday except that I went back to bed within 15 minutes of making my husband's coffee, and I then proceeded to hit the snooze button until the last possible moment. Still, I managed to get up, spend time reading my Bible, bake chicken in the oven, and cook breakfast before leaving for work.

My breakfast on Tuesday included sauteed mushrooms and spinach and three scrambled eggs. I left the cheese out of the equation and also ate two pieces of turkey bacon. For lunch, I ate leftover CrockPot Santa Fe Chicken. Dinner included a 5 ounce steak, seasoned with salt, pepper, and cumin, cheesy cauliflower, and steamed green beans. I managed to say "no" to a piece of King Cake and again ended the day with sugar free chocolate mousse from Jell-O.

I had hoped to complete two workouts on Tuesday, but two snoring, cuddly dogs beat going to the gym at 5am. I did squeeze a workout in near the end of the day and completed 30 minutes on the elliptical, 10 minutes on the stationary bicycle, and then 13 minutes of upper arms strength training. I was sweatier than Monday, sorer than Monday, and happier.

It's only been two days and already I feel a million times better. I don't think it's just the exercise, just the food, or just the water. I think doing one thing without the others would be counter productive but doing all three makes me unstoppable.

My biggest struggle is planning as I mentioned before which makes the South Beach Diet more of a challenge, but the South Beach Diet also helps me to understand how to plan out my meals as well as how to plan how I spend my time in the mornings and throughout the day.

I chose the South Beach Diet because of how it causes me to plan. But I also chose the South Beach Diet because it cuts out the food I eat too much of - carbohydrates and sweets.

There are some people who can control their portions. I am not one of those people. I can easily eat an entire pint, or quart, of ice cream in one sitting. I also struggle saying no to bread or tortillas or tortilla chips - especially when there is queso to dip the tortilla and chips in. The last time I started the South Beach Diet I did not do well with reintroducing carbohydrates and sweets into my diet. Instead of starting slow, I rushed into the carbohydrates and sweets - undoing all the good that Phase One had done.

This time around I am looking at the South Beach Diet as a true lifestyle change. This time I am constantly thinking about what I can eat, and what I can't. This time I am seeing the next two weeks as an opportunity instead of fourteen days of restriction to survive. This time I am excited about what will happen after the next two weeks instead of worried about if I will even make it through the next two weeks.

The South Beach Diet isn't for everyone. I'm making it work for me which means that I'm eating a lot of frozen vegetables and that the meals I am making are simple and also ones that my husband can (and will) eat. I'm also ensuring that there are always leftovers because then I can take the leftovers for lunch the next day which makes the mornings easier.

I know that not every day will be as "easy" as the past two days have been. I'm off work for most of next week, and will be spending four days in Texas with my parents. Nothing beats Mexican food in Texas, but I can, and will, say no to nachos and tortillas while I am there. I also struggle more with my eating when I am at home than when I am at work. There are plenty of reasons why I might fail, but I know I won't because I won't let myself.

This - my health - is so much more important that my love of nachos. It is so much more important then anything because this is my life. And it's my time to put my life first.

(title from "the sun will rise" by kelly clarkson)

it sounded familiar in a way

2012-01-08T20:59:00.000-06:00

For six months, I had it all together. I worked out at least five times a week - usually nine. I split my time between two gyms and anticipated sore muscles. I took pleasure and found excitement in counting my calories. I felt accomplished and sure of myself. I determined that nothing would stop me from reaching my goal.

I completed a 5K on Thanksgiving Day, on the elliptical, and loved that I spent the beginning of a holiday dedicated to food exercising. I promised myself that Christmas would be much the same. But it wasn't.

There's no easy way to lose weight. Setbacks happen. Life often gets in the way. And sometimes exercise isn't a priority.

I promised myself that after Christmas I would get back into the groove. I announced that I was starting the South Beach Diet again. And I did - for a day.

I'm struggling right now. And I'm not doing a very good job of planning meals or making my health a priority. I want to do those things - but I haven't.

This weekend has been a lot of ups and downs. We've gone out to dinner, cuddled on the couch, spent time with family, and I went to baby shower. We've talked a lot about the future as well as what is happening right now in our lives. And there's a lot happening.

Being healthy is a part of all that is happening. New opportunities are presenting themselves, and I know that I can't really put all of myself into those new opportunities without being healthy. And I want all of it - the health, the writing, the opportunities, the things that are waiting in the shadows but have not yet made themselves known. I want 2011 to have been the year I began my weight loss journey and 2012 to be the year I finished it.

But I'm scared. It's been so easy to slip back into old habits like drinking diet coke instead of water. It's been so nice to spend my lunch break reading or eating or shopping instead of sweating in a zumba class or on the elliptical. It's become almost second nature to say that I'll just start again next week.

At the beginning of the year, Shay Sorrells posted about the seven biggest mistakes she made after being on The Biggest Loser. Having spent the past few years not watching the show, I watched all of season 8 in a matter of weeks thanks to Netflix, so it felt as though I had just gotten to know Shay. Her story resonated with me as I work in the field of social work, and I've seen or heard many stories similar to hers. I wanted, for my own selfish reasons, for her to be one of the ones who never slipped or struggled.

Reading her post, I recognize myself in almost all of her mistakes. Because I've done and said all of those things. I've allowed myself to convince myself that if someone else says it's okay then it is. I've allowed myself to not push myself and to rest because I just didn't feel like going to the gym.

The thing about her honesty that really got to me was the fact that after she put it all out there, she talked about her goals and what she was going to do to pursue them. I know she's not perfect - none of us are - but being reminded that someone else out there is struggling and fighting through it was exactly what I needed. She was exactly what I needed.

So I am starting again tomorrow.

The plan is the South Beach Diet for the third time (third time's a charm, right?).

The plan is to take my gym bag to work and spend my lunch hour sweating on the elliptical.

The plan is to go to the grocery store tomorrow evening armed with a list and the determination to eat healthy.

The plan is to put my health first so that I can be faithful to what all God is calling me to.

At the end of January, I plan to start a boot camp through the university I work for. I'm excited for the chance to push myself and try new exercises. I can't wait to show myself what I can do. Before then, though, I want to get back into the gym on a daily basis. I want to spend my lunch hour sweating and maybe a few early mornings too.

Starting Monday, I'll be chronicling all of my struggles and successes with exercise here. Because I need to do that for myself. I need to be honest and truly accountable for whatever I do - or don't do - at the gym. I need to keep track of what I eat, how much I eat, when I eat, and why I eat - sharing a few recipes along the way as well. I need to remind myself of how much better I feel when I choose diet coke over water and fresh food over Arby's.

I need to rediscover my love of health. Because that's what my journey is all about. And if I lose weight along the way, even better.

(title from "between the lines" by sara bareilles)

done looking for the critics (week 8)

2012-01-06T12:12:00.000-06:00

I've loved reading for as long as I can remember. As a child, I had my parents read me The Berenstain Bear's Go To School nightly. Around the age of 5, I excitedly told them that I knew how to read and proceeded to "read" every single page. In reality, I recited the story from memory and also knew when to turn the pages, but in my child's mind, I was a genius.

My Nana was a reading specialist, before I was born, in Detroit, and so stories were also important to her. She had my dad read to me, while I was in my mother's womb, and accounts my love of the written word to this. I would have to agree with her as it's apparent that I was born both a writer and a reader.

In college, I (eventually) majored in professional writing. Through the courses in the school of journalism, as well as the English courses I took while a creative writing major, I read a lot. Some were books I enjoyed and wanted to read. Others were not. This onslaught of reading made it quite difficult to read just for pleasure, so I didn't - unless I was on vacation.

The same could be said for writing. I did do some writing for pleasure but most of it was for class and for a grade. I learned so much during my five years of college - not picking a major made it difficult to graduate in four and I probably would have stayed longer if I could have - but I also lost my love for the written word.

It's taken me nearly four years to rediscover it. Four years of really only diving into a book while on vacation. Four years of rewriting and editing the same novel. Four years of writing short stories only when someone gave me a prompt because it was too difficult for me to think of an idea. Four years of simultaneously forgetting everything I learned, remembering everything I learned, and reminding myself that it is okay to need help with writing.

The irony is not lost on me that it took me an entire bachelor's degree to recover from the bachelor's degree I hold. At least this time, no one had to pay for the courses - though there's plenty of bills to pay for real life.

I finished a book last night. The third in The Mortal Instruments series. I couldn't sleep, except for between 11pm and 1am and then again 4am and 6:50am, so I worked on a few things around the house and read. I started the books only a few weeks ago, right after finishing The Hunger Games, and I can't wait to dive into another book.

With every book I read, I feel like I discover something about myself. Sometimes its a new author I love. Other times its content that shows up on the blog. Not every discovery is big or earth shattering, but it's there.

This time I realized how badly I want to be an author. I've mentioned it before on the blog - more in passing than as an actual statement. And then I have gone about my life without diving into life as an author. Because doing that is scary. But I know it's who I am and that the longer I spend not writing the more I will feel adrift.

And I have been adrift the past few weeks. Not exercising. Struggling with what to eat and how to eat. Losing my footing on this journey towards health. It all goes back to defining who I am at the core, and who I am at the core is a writer - whether numerous people read my blog or no one read its; whether I become a best selling author or I'm never published.

The first book I ever wrote was a children's book. It was for an assignment in school. I wrote about a skunk who got trapped in a high school - the high school I ended up attending and graduating from. I illustrated the entire book as well and enjoyed telling of all the skunk's adventures. My mom still has the book.

The second book I really wrote was for class. I had (and still have) half-finished manuscripts and other stories I wrote for fun, but my senior year of college, I completed an entire novel about a girl who goes to China and what happens when she comes back.

Now I'm working on my third book. It's slow, but it's getting there. And maybe, just maybe, third time will be the charm.

I think rediscovering myself as a writer is integral for every aspect of my life - especially the journey of losing (and then maintaining the loss of) 100 pounds. Because if I don't have as firm a grasp as possible on who I am, I doubt the weight loss will be something that sticks.

So I'm on my way. Working diligently on the novel. Thinking about it all the time. Anticipating the next time I can write. Fitting it into my daily schedule, even if for just a few minutes. Just like I will once again do with exercise.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

Note: this post was sponsored in part by Blue Matter Marketing. All opinions and thoughts are my own. For online writing tutoring, please visit www.thewritingfaculty.com - a site that provides assistance and tutoring for writers of all ages and levels.

you'll be all right

2012-01-05T07:30:00.000-06:00

My office was closed on Monday, in honor of the beginning of 2012, and I spent the day at home, curled up on the couch, or asleep in bed. It wasn't the way I wanted to kick off the new year - losing the fight to a cold - but I made the best of it.

Tuesday I struggled to get out of bed. I'd taken Tylenol PM Cold at 9:00pm on Monday and then stumbled into a cold medicine coma. By time I made it to my office on Tuesday, I had the thought that it would have been better for me to stay at home. Just a few short minutes later, I spilled hot coffee down the entire front of my brand new, never before worn white blouse. Instead of wearing a stained shirt for the rest of the day, I took it off, washed it in the sink, and then wore my peacoat over my grey slacks for over half of the day.

I've had high hopes for 2012. Most of my hopes have been for an easier year, for abundant blessings, for all these things I felt 2011 lacked. And it's been hard not to get discouraged by two days of sniffles and two days of things not going according to plan.

When I woke up on Wednesday, I again struggled to get out of bed. The cold medicine coma, snuggling dogs, and comfortable bed were so much more appealing than a shower and blow drying my hair. But I got up, only hitting the snooze button once, and set about getting myself ready for work.

I prayed a lot that morning. My quiet time has been lacking recently. I want so badly to pursue my relationship with God, but I feel overwhelmed by my failures and inconsistencies. When it's been so long since you opened the Bible, knowing where to start is overwhelming and scary.

I couldn't tell you what I prayed for exactly. I'm trying not to ask for things every time I pray. Instead, I want to focus on direction and where God is leading me. There are so many things demanding my attention that I want to make sure I'm giving my attention to the things that deserve it.

Not that I can do that well. It's so easy for me to give into the here and the now. I see pieces of my life that are out of place, things that are broken, and I want to fix them. I place my attention on those items and quickly lose sight of the big picture.

My prayers continued during my 30-minute commute. I would start to ask for something and then stop. I would wonder what was okay to say, to ask for, and what was not okay. And I asked for direction - continued and neverending direction. There was no white light or booming voice during that commute. But I did have one thought that wove itself through all of the other thoughts.

Suffering.

My life is pretty good. I have a husband who loves me, two dogs who love me (one who loves me so much that she is constantly attached to me and I trip over her daily), a family who loves me, and friends that make me laugh. But there are things that aren't what they should be. There are struggles that my husband and I are facing - and have been facing for quite some time. They might not be as difficult as other people's struggles but they are still there - every day - reminding me of my shortcomings and pointing out all the failures I see in my life.

Struggles will always exist. There is no such thing as a perfect life. So how do I go about suffering, and struggling, well.

I thought about that all day. Every conversation I had. It kept coming back to me. How do I suffer well?

I don't. That's the answer. I am terrible at struggling. Instead of praying and finding rest in God, I worry. I overanalyze every situation. I try to think of every possible solution. I also worry about everything that could possibly go wrong.

By the time I got home from work, I was rather downtrodden. And then while I cooked dinner, I looked up at the ceiling in our kitchen and noticed that the already large crack in the ceiling had grown in size - both width and length.

I've mentioned that our house needs work. It still does. I don't know if it will never not need work.

Sometimes I am okay with our house that needs work. Sometimes I am not. Right now, I'm tired of not knowing how (and if) we can fix the house. Right now, I am frustrated and impatient. Right now, I am not suffering well.

We talked about all of this over dinner tonight. Not just suffering but the upcoming year and what it meant for us as a couple. Our discussion made me realize that 2012 might not be the year of abundant blessings. It might not be a year that fixes every problem. And maybe that's for the best.

Although I wanted 2012 to be the year that fixed everything. The year that all these overwhelming worries were taken care of. That's why I was cautiously optimistic about 2012. But now I am optimistic and excited for the growth that will come from 2012.

Our house is where we live. It's a building. We love it, but it's a bit too much for us to handle. And so there is always the possibility that we will have to make the very difficult decision of parting with it. That thought used to terrify me, but now it no longer does. Now I am open to the idea of saying goodbye to this house and moving onto wherever it is God wants us to go. Now I'm not worried about where we call home because I know there will always be a place to call home. It doesn't matter if this one house is the place we always call home or if we move in with other people or rent a different house.

There are so many possibilities awaiting us. And I think 2012 will continue to bring those possibilities - even if they do not look the way we expect them to.

So this is the start for me. The start of suffering well. Tonight it included an honest conversation with my husband, quiet time on the couch reading out of Romans, and continued prayer for direction. Tomorrow it will include more quiet time, more prayer, and time spent with friends.

The rest of 2012 will include prayer, quiet time, and truly seeking God in every aspect of my life. I want to be held accountable for my actions. I want to serve others in whatever way they need. I want to let go of the desires I have for my life and instead fully focus on where God is calling me.

I want 2012 to be the year I grew closer to God, the year I realized who I am in Christ, the year I was able to focus on other people. I want 2012 to be the year I learned what it meant to suffer well. I want 2012 to be the year I let go of my selfish desires, my love of material possessions.

I do not want 2012 to be only a year of abundant blessings. If those happen, I'll be thankful. If they don't, I will remember that if God is for us who can be against us. And I'll remember that out of this suffering will come growth.

After all, there's always next week, next month, and next year to begin again.

(title from "safe and sound" by taylor swift (feat. the civil wars)

counting my blessings (#131-150)

2012-01-04T07:28:00.000-06:00

picture found here.

131. Game nights with friends.
132. How I Met Your Mother.
133. Black glittery nail polish.
134. The hope of a new year.
135. Any combination of black and grey.
136. Headbands.
137. Having courage - even when it seems impossible to do so.
138. Anticipating feedback on the beginning pages of a novel.
139. Tylenol cold medicine.
140. Having people to go the distance with.
141. Trusting in God's perfect timing - even when it's hard.
142. Grocery lists.
143. Remembering that there are always endless possibilities.
144. Gingerbread latte creamer.
145. An upcoming trip back to Texas.
146. Therapeutic emails.
147. Making presents for others.
148. Seeing possibilities in the things that seem like failures.
149. The promise of Joel 2: 25-27.
150. Tony Lucca's music.

leave this broken past behind

2012-01-03T06:05:00.000-06:00

We celebrated the end of 2011 and start of 2012 with friends. There was wine, snack food, and hours of laughter provided by the game Bang. A little after midnight, we packed up, headed home, and fell asleep, cuddled with our dogs by 1:00am. The alarm went off at 8:00am, and we groggily moved out of the bed, through the house and off to church.

Several weeks ago, we started talking about what we wanted out of 2012. It was a conversation that started with our C-Group. Together, my husband and I decided that we wanted to spend more of 2012 in pursuit. Pursuit of each other, pursuit in our friendships, and pursuit in our relationships, both together and individually, with God.

After church, we spent time resting on the couches of my in-law's house, waiting for lunch, and discussing what our individual goals for 2012 are.

The goal we have together ties into our individual goals because, without pursuing each other and God, we won't be able to meet our own goals.

2012 so far hasn't been what I expected or hoped it would be. I know that life doesn't change overnight. It's a matter of making choices, daily, that will help to turn 2012 into what I want it to be. The choice I'm making right now is to be okay with things not going as hoped or expected.

I had plans for this Monday off of work. The plans included a sweaty work out, cleaning the house, cooking dinner, baking cheesecake, reading, and some writing. Instead, I spent the day resting on the couch or sleeping in bed - though I did get cheesecake baked and lots of The Mortal Instruments read.

I texted my mom about my sudden sickness and how I treated myself to homemade macaroni and cheese (my comfort food of choice) that tasted almost as good as hers. Her response was that sometimes sickness is what gets us to slow down when we need it.

And I did need it. My body knows me better than I know myself, and I'm not always good at listening to it. But I am trying. So today, I allowed myself to be sick and rested. I thought about how I've already failed at round two of the South Beach Diet - a culprit of the holidays, being sick, and poor planning.

There is tomorrow to look forward to, and the chance to start over again. I'm not sure I will make it to the gym tomorrow, but I know that I'm going to do my best to get back onto the healthy living train.

That's the beauty of the month of January. It's a month of beginnings. It's a month of making resolutions and not allowing setbacks or mistakes to determine success of failure.

But, really, resolutions should not be meant for just January. I've let it be that in the past years. I've even done that recently - telling myself that it's okay to eat poorly because January is on its way and I can start over then. But starting over is something that should be done whenever it is needed. It should not be reserved solely for the beginning of the year.

That's going to be my theme for 2012. A year of starting over whenever I need to. A year of not giving up or putting things off. A year of pursuing the things that are important to me and to my family. A year of being as honest as I can about my struggles in weight loss, my walk with God, my life with my husband, and anything else I might feel I should share.

This is the year. I've heard that from so many people, and I am so excited to see what that means for all of us. Where it will take us individually and as a whole.

2011 was hard for many of us, but that difficulty, as I've said before, will give us something to compare 2012 to. And even with the difficulty, there was a lot of beauty and wonderful things. I can't wait to see what all beauty and wonder 2012 will hold, and I can't wait to take whatever struggles might come my way and turn them into positives.

My first Monday of 2012 might not have happened the way I planned, but it happened the way it needed to. And now I feel refreshed, rested, and level-headed. I feel like I'm ready to get back into a healthy life and ready to open myself back up without worrying about what others might have to say.

Here's to hoping that your 2012 has started in the way you need - even if it wasn't the way you planned.

(title from "some other time" by tony lucca)

done looking for the critics (week 7)

2011-12-30T12:01:00.000-06:00

Today is the last Friday of 2011.

A large part of me is saying good riddance to 2011 and willing it to leave as quickly as possible. I want to forget much of it and move on to 2012 with the hope that 2012 will be the best year yet.

The thing with hoping for a best year is that you have to have sometime to compare it too. And while I am excited for what is to come, I also know I have so much to be thankful for. 2011 taught me so much about life, love, myself, and writing. 2011 helped me to open myself back up to possibilities and friendships.

I may not remember everything about 2011 but there are some things I never want to forget.

In January, I broke my silence after two months of no words. I struggled with letting go.

In February, I considered where God had led us. I thought about where my heart is. I wrote but not as much as I should have.

In March, I started to count my blessings. I celebrated my husband's 25th birthday. God continued to teach me.

In April, I finished telling the story of us. I won a short story contest. I was pushed out of my comfort zone. I attended the 8046 conference.

In May, I worked out in the morning. I wrote a few of the women in my life letters for Mother's Day. I tried to write every day in May but failed.

In June, I celebrated 15 pounds lost. I thought about just how much can change in a year. I made a list of goals.

In July, I felt stuck. I realized just how hard it is to lose 100 pounds. I continued to struggle with control.

In August, I reconnnected with an old friend. I started the South Beach Diet. I tried to stop comparing my story to other people's stories. I considered the similarities between writing and losing weight.

In September, I revisited the vows my husband and I made. I celebrated three years of marriage. I completed a 5K to raise awareness for suicide prevention.

In October, I started a weekly series. I celebrated six months of weight loss. I wanted to quit but kept going instead. I burned 989 calories in one day.

In November, I made it back into the gym. I celebrated the small things. I won the Steel Ovaries Award.

In December, I opened myself up to 2012. I contemplated what Christmas really means to me. I started to see myself the way others see me. I began a bucket list. I admitted to my lack of time in the gym.

Looking back, I realize just how much good there was in 2011. I see the thread that held it all together. I recognize the lessons I was meant to learn and realize the growth that came form the struggles. I feel God's presence in all of it. And I'm so thankful to have had the chance to look back and remember.

Now it's time to look forward and make 2012 the best year it can possibly be.

What do you remember about 2011?

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

change will always come

2011-12-29T06:14:00.000-06:00

When I married my husband, I also married his lack of cooking skills and his picky eating habits. When my husband married me, he married my dislike of cooking, as well as my claims that I wasn't a good cook, and my sweet tooth.

Our wedding registry had a few kitchen items on it. But truthfully, I was more concerned with comfortable sheets, couch cushions, and other items that would make our home look pretty rather than items that would help feed us.

This year I've become friends with the kitchen. We're not best friends just yet, but I am getting to know the kitchen better. I'm finding that I can chop an onion without crying. I can also follow a recipe quite well and even adjust the ingredients and amounts when warranted. I've even invited friends over with the intention of cooking an entire meal for them.

Every year, my parents ask me to write a letter to Santa Clause. Over the past few years, I've asked mainly for one thing: money. Amazingly, Santa Clause does make money, and so my letters have always been received and responded to.

This year, I asked for lots of things for the kitchen. I wanted pots and pans that matched, knives that actually cut well, and a few other items. Santa Clause, as well as family members, delivered, and I'm now the proud owner of cookware that sparkles.

The items I had before were all usable. And use them I did. I also abused them by letting food dry on them and forgetting to remove them from the hot burners as soon as I was done whipping up whatever masterpiece I had planned for dinner.

Our refrigerator has been bare over the past few days, and so I've only used one new pan once to scramble eggs with cheese and spinach.

Food is the thing I struggle with the most. Although recently the gym and I have been quite distant. Still, I know it all comes back to what I am eating, how much I am eating, and also making sure that I am consuming enough water - not just surviving on coffee and diet coke.

Armed with spices, a new food scale, and more pots and pans than I know what to do with, I'm determined to learn my way around the kitchen, become even closer friends with the art of cooking, and finally begin to understand portion control.

Over the past few months, I've realized that how I eat needs to be a way of life and not just a diet I stick with for a few weeks. I've looked into different eating habits, and I've tried a few. The one that I know works for me is the South Beach Diet.

It's daunting to cut out carbohydrates and sugars. But I know that those are my trigger foods, the items I can (and do) eat endlessly and mindlessly. So starting tomorrow, I am restarting the South Beach Diet.

Last time, I made it one and a half weeks into phase one. It was difficult but not impossible. I learned quite a bit over that time and know that in order to be successful I need to have variety - namely more variety in vegetables and less broccoli.

The past few weeks, ever since Thanksgiving, have been a struggle. I've gained motivation in other aspects of my life but lost the desire to exercise. I've given into the ease of fast food. I've allowed myself to make lots of excuses, and I've enjoyed myself a bit too much.

I know it's going to be hard to make this much needed change. But I also know it won't be impossible - especially since my kitchen is now stocked with pots, pans, and knives that are begging to be used. Maybe I'll get lucky and find lots of good South Beach Diet recipes on Pinterest - a tool I didn't have the first time around.

Here's to eating lots of green vegetables, tons of chicken, string cheese, and eggs every morning for breakfast. And here's to saying goodbye to ice cream, pasta, sushi (but not sashimi), bread and potatoes.

(title from "keep us" by peter bradley adams)

words fall through me

2011-12-28T12:23:00.000-06:00

Last night, I had dinner with friends from church while my husband reconnected with friends from high school. We each needed the nights we had. More than that, though, I think we each needed the nights we had away from each other.

It's hard being married. For a million reasons. And one of those reasons, at least for me, is how our lives combine.

My husband and I didn't go to college together. I grew up in Texas, outside of Houston, and he grew up here in Oklahoma, just minutes away from where we live. We met our senior year of college, and almost instantly it was just the two of us - trying out hardest to fit our lives together and finding that it was nearly impossible to cram years of separateness together.

Four years later, we're still trying to figure it out. And last night, after we both got home at the exact same time, we lay in bed and talked about how we make all of it work.

It would be easier, in some ways, to pick up our life here in Oklahoma and move somewhere entirely new to us both. Somewhere that would force both he and I to make new friends. But the easier way is not always the right way, and we know that, for now, we are called to stay in Oklahoma.

We've talked about making effort a lot lately. Effort in our relationship. Effort in friendships. Effort in ourselves. And last night, as he discussed how it was good and strange to reconnect with people I know from a distance but not close up like he does, he spilled words out that echoed my heart.

The hustle and bustle and loneliness and joy of Christmas is over. But there's a whole new year heading our way, and with that new year comes the chance for change and growth. And knowing that my husband wants the growth I so desperately want makes me feel closer to him than ever before.

It's things like this - that I could say are little but really are big - that give me so much hope about 2012. Because 2011 was hard. Maybe not quite as hard as 2010 (in some ways) but so much harder in others. There were dreams lost and realized in 2011. A lot of growth and a lot of tears. Many questions and not enough answers.

And I know we are not the only ones who struggled in 2011. From what I can tell, it's been more of a difficult year for most. But it's almost through. Just a few more days, and we can officially wave goodbye and then hello to all the possibilities that rest in the change of a single number.

My night wasn't filled with realizations last night. Just quiet moments, good food, conversations, and the feeling washing over me that, as much as I might fight it, God has me right where He wants me.

I'm learning to be okay with where I am. To relish it even. It's not perfect, but never again will it be December 28, 2011. Never again will I have the opportunities set in front of me or the time to spend resting on the couch with my husbamd. Never again will I be 26 with a world of possibility in front of me.

I want to enjoy 2012. Even though there might be difficulty and frustration. Even though it won't be perfect. I want to enjoy it and find beauty in every moment. I want to live my life instead of just taking everything day by day. I want to reflect all this wonderment and beauty and all of these little and big moments.

We've talked a lot about the possibilities and what we want from 2012. There's been mention of my writing, of my husband's writing, of intentionally spending our time, and of doing things now instead of waiting for this or that to be better. The talk is good - great even. It binds us together and puts us on the same page. It gives us things to dream about and hope for.

But talk is also just talk. And there needs to be action along with it. The action is, I think, the scariest part. It's an act of faith. There's no time to look down or to worry. I simply have to get out of the boat and then not look down or worry.

This blog is the first step for me. There's accountability that comes with announcing that I've written more than 6,000 words of my new novel. There's accountability that comes with saying I'm going to be positive and happy and trust God even more in 2012.

With this accountability comes the possibility of people mocking me, laughing at my choices, and questioning my decisions. I know to expect and be prepared for all of these things. As scary as those things are, it's worth it, I think, to live life intentionally and to open yourself up to the possibilities.

So here I am. Open to 2012. Ready for what it will bring. Expecting wonderful things. Excited for growth. Thankful to have another life to share the year with.

(title from "falling slowly" by glen hansard)

i'll return when it's time

2011-12-27T12:00:00.003-06:00

Christmas started on Friday evening. We gathered with Justin's family, on his mom's side, and enjoyed an evening of food, conversation, dirty Santa and catching up with people we had not seen in a year. It's a tradition they've had since before Justin was born, and usually occurs on Christmas Eve. With Christmas on a Sunday this year, his grandmother wanted to make it to church Sunday morning.

One of the traditions I had growing up was attending church on Christmas Eve. The Christmas story was told, and the night would end with singing "Silent Night" by candelight.

Our church held service on Christmas Eve. There wasn't candle light, but there was singing and the sharing of the Christmas story. It was a night that reminded me, again, of what Christmas means to me. It was a night that we walked away from and felt cautiously optimistic.

Many people, myself included, make resolutions the very first day of the new year. But this year, Christmas marked the start of the new year for me. Christmas spoke to me. It reminded me that life starts over every year. It reminded me that some years will be more difficult than others, but there is always a new year coming. And that new year always comes with the promise of hope and love.

I'm choosing hope now. As scary as it is to be optimistic about the upcoming year, I feel that things will change. So much has already been set in motion.

And so, after the Christmas Eve service, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. Christmas itself might not have gone exactly the way I wanted it to - we didn't make it to a Christmas movie - but it was a beautiful and wonderful weekend.

We were so blessed this year by our friends and family. Not just in the way of gifts but in the way of thoughtfulness and in the way of hope and in the way of love.

Many of the gifts we received were gifts we had been wanting and needing, and they're gifts that will continue to give. A 17-piece stainless steel cook set. A beautiful mustard yellow stock pot. A new knife set. An indoor grill/griddle combo. Cookbooks. The chance to dress my kitchen and open my front door to guests.

So much has recently been set in motion. The possibility of extra income. Reconnecting with old friends. The beginnings of a new novel. The decision to pursue others and my dreams. Letting go of many things and opening myself to whatever awaits me this upcoming year. Trusting that God truly does know what is best and reminding myself that I can lean into His plans without fear.

That's what Christmas has been. The day itself as well as the days that proceeded it and the days that came after.

I head back into the real world of work tomorrow. And while I would much rather remain in this land of no work and Christmas, I know that when I head back I will do so with renewed energy, rediscovered hope, and a clean house.

(title from "you've got growin' up to do" by joshua radin)

there really ain't nothing wrong

2011-12-21T07:08:00.000-06:00

There was a time when I loved Christmas. I anticipated running down the stairs and seeing the presents overflowing into the hallway and the living room. My alarm would be set for exactly five minutes before I was allowed to wake my parents and my Nana. We would eat breakfast, sip coffee (once I was old enough and with lots of creamer), and then dive into presents.

My dad was Santa. He would wear a cowboy-esque hat that read "ho ho ho" on it. My brother and I were responsible for handing out the presents to open. And after the living room overflowed with wrapping paper, cards, toys, clothes, and other presents, my mom would set about cooking a delicious dinner.

There were other traditions, too. How we trimmed the tree. What presents we opened on Christmas Eve. Going to church as a family and looking for Santa Clause in the sky.

Being married changes the holidays. It's been four years since I spent Christmas is Texas, pretending to be cold as we sat by the fire. My life collided with my husband's life. And even though my family is hours away, we're lucky enough to be close to his family and be able to celebrate with them.

But it's still hard. For me and for him. Probably for our families too. Because it's not that I don't love my in-laws - I really do (in fact I am amazed by just how lucky we are to have the families we do), but I miss my family and all the things we did for years and years.

So it's balancing act. Because my husband has his traditions too. And we're trying to have traditions for just our family.

One of our traditions, started just last year, is not buying presents for one another. We get so much from our families that it seems almost wasteful to buy presents for one another. So instead, we buy presents for children who need them.

There are over 8000 children in foster care in the state of Oklahoma. And all those children need and deserve Christmas presents. So this year, we did just as we had in 2010, and bought presents for children instead of for each other.

I can't say its easy. There is a part of me that would prefer to spend money on myself or on my husband. But that's not the reason for Christmas. And to think that one gift could light up a child's face on Christmas seems so much more important.

I got to attend a party thrown by a local bank. The bank was a donation site for the Christmas presents, and my heart was filled with joy, probably for the first time this season, when I saw how many presents were under the tree at the party. Especially considering the fact that I knew there would be even more presents delivered before Christmas.

In the future, I hope to have children at our home for Christmas. And my hope is to be able to care for those children who need a stable home until they can go back to their families. If they aren't able to return to their families, my hope is to invite them into ours and to their forever family (if you want to know what a forever family is, please watch this and be prepared to tear up).

The thing about giving gifts for children in foster care is that you will never know who receives the presents or how much they light up. I had the chance once, when I was a social worker, to watch three children open their gifts. I think of that day every year. Their smiles were brighter than any I had ever seen. Remembering that day, remembering those children, it helps me to hold onto the tiniest bit of Christmas spirit.

But I also feel like I am not doing enough. I have such a huge desire to open my home and bring in children and families and to do all these things I have hope to do. Now is not the time, though. There will be a time, sometime in the future, but now is not it.

So I will continue to give gifts for Christmas to the children in foster care. And we will continue on our other traditions - like ~~going~~attempting to go to a movie on Christmas Day just the two of us.

Since Christmas is on a Sunday this year, our church is holding service on 5:30pm on Christmas Eve. And while my parents will be in Texas and I will be in Oklahoma, I'll be able to continue a tradition of attending church on Christmas Eve and maybe spotting Rudolph pulling Santa's sleigh.

I've realized, too, what is important about Christmas. It's not about the gifts or playing Santa Clause. It's about who I spend the time with. It's about remembering the reason for Christmas - for me. It's about looking back at the year with a thankful heart and then looking forward to the next year with a hopeful heart.

I mentioned weeks ago my hope to be in a better spirit this year for the holidays, and I've failed. I've spent more time crying and sad and frustrated than happy. The season is almost over now, but I can spend the next days happy and thankful and celebrating the family I have, the life I have, and the reason for the season.

So from our family of four to you (wherever you might be this season), Merry Christmas, and I hope that you are able to join me in finding the spirit of Christmas and the reason for the season.

(title from "why do i" by joe purdy)

there's a place for us

2011-12-19T21:14:00.000-06:00

For a writer, I don't have the best memory. It's not that I don't remember things. I do - I just remember snapshots rather than complete scenes. I remember the feeling of a moment, the gist of inspirational words, but the exact words escape me.

I think that's why I've always loved fiction and how easy it is to get lost in the world created by the author. Often times it's a mix of reality and fantasy. And even though things don't always go according to plan, there's a light with every misstep and the understanding that everything will work out in the end.

Not every story has a happy ending, but there is always an ending.

Life isn't like that. Life doesn't just end; it continues to breathe and grow - even after the person living the life is gone. Each choice a person makes has a consequence. Those consequences come to the person who made the choice as well as to other people.

If the woman didn't choose to place the baby up for adoption, then the couple wouldn't have adopted the baby. If the couple hadn't adopted the baby, the baby may never have learned how to read at 5. And if the baby hadn't learned how to read at 5, then the baby may never have grown up to be a writer.

And if the writer didn't tell the story of how boy met girl, there would be no inspiring words to curl up with on a rainy day. No funny words to laugh over while stretched out on the beach with a drink in hand. No sentence to dissect in the midst of a sophomore English class. No novel to write a five-page paper over in college.

The story, even though it has a definite ending, continues on because of the author's choice to write the story.

I've always been drawn to fiction because it gives me hope. I've always felt better suited for writing fiction because I didn't have to remember. I could grasp onto the moments in my life and enjoy the murkiness of those memories without having to squint and force the details to come into focus. And I've always loved fiction because I could hide my own realities behind it.

Then I made the choice to start a blog, and suddenly there is no hiding any realities. It is all about showcasing the good and the bad along with the somewhere in between.

Writing a blog is stretching me. It's causing me to look at the world more carefully. I'm taking in the edges and the details along with the whole picture. I'm going back to those little moments and dissecting them, trying to understand why I felt the way I did and what the air felt like and who was present.

There are certain moments that stand out. One was on a bridge. I was in junior high. The church I grew up in was at Conclaves. It was the end of the weekend. Split into our small groups, we wrote notes to one another. Notes of affirmation. Notes that could be pulled out years later and hopefully serve as the beacon of hope through whatever darkness we might be facing in that moment. I don't know the exact words that were written, though I am sure they are hidden somewhere in my bedroom at my parents house, but I remember how they made me feel. I felt inspired and good enough and loved. Three things that are sometimes difficult for a teenage girl to feel no matter how much she hears those things.

The other day I started putting together a bucket list. One of the items on the bucket list was to become an inspiration. While looking at the list earlier today, I found a comment from a friend of mine that read you can mark done on this one too...you have always been an inspiration to me.

Those words took me back to that bridge. And to other moments. Times when people poured into me and told me words of affirmation. Times when I heard that something I said or wrote - something I did - made a difference in someone else's life.

In those other moments, I would take the words, believe them for a moment, and then release them. But this time I held onto the words and thought about them. I considered what they meant. And I wondered what it was about me that made me feel like I shouldn't or couldn't believe the words.

I started wondering about what it is about all of us that makes us all feel that we aren't good enough. I started wondering about what it would be like if we started to see ourselves the way other people saw us.

How different my life would be if I saw myself as an inspiration. How different my life would be if I considered myself a writer. How different my life would be if I saw my dreams as realities and not impossibilities.

I don't have it all figured out (clearly). I'm stumbling and fumbling along in my weight loss journey. Rather than writing a novel, I think about the characters and the plot. And so maybe I'm not the one to spark a revolution for the whole world, but I am the one to spark a revolution for my own life.

So I am going to do the thing I've never been able to do. I'm going to take the words of affirmation, years worth of words of affirmation, and I am going to believe them. I am going to remember how it felt the first time I heard the words. I am going to concentrate on the details and allow them to seep into future memories. I am going to allow the words I once hid away to effect the rest of my life and maybe make their way into someone else's life.

I am going to be the person so many people already see me as.

(title from "romeo & juliet" by edwin mccain)

done looking for the critics (week 6)

2011-12-16T12:35:00.000-06:00

I say that I am on a weight loss journey. And I am. But this journey is about so much more.

It's about figuring out who I am once and for all. It's about sticking with something and not giving up when it gets to be too hard. It's about dreaming and then making those dreams come true.

I don't have a lot to say today. I haven't had much to say this week. Because I've spent time thinking and processing and dreaming and planning.

But I wanted to share something with you all. A few of the items I've added to my bucket list.

Along with my bucket list, I've listed some of the things I've already done.

Life is hard. But it's beautilful. Sometimes we notive the hard things too much and forget how much we have done and how much more we have left to do.

It's time to remember. And for me, it's time to live. 2012 is almost here, and I feel like this is going to be the year for me. What about you? What's on your bucket list? What have you already done?

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

seems like it's been forever

2011-12-14T12:38:00.000-06:00

The truth is that I have not stepped foot into the gym in a week. The girl with not one but two gym memberships hasn't worked out in seven days. The girl who loved going to gym and the endorphins that rushed after a sweaty work out has lost the motivation to run on the elliptical, to lift weights, and to move my body to the beat during zumba.

The worst part of it is that I don't know how to get my motivation back.

I don't think this is only a wall that I'm hitting. I think it's a wall combined with exhaustion combined with a body that needs rest combined with life combined with trying to figure out what works best for me.

You see I haven't gained any weight during my time away from the gym. Time away that began before last Wednesday. Time that began weeks ago when I got sick and then struggled to get back into my routine.

When I stepped on the scale this morning, I prepared myself for a gain in weight. I haven't been wonderful at counting calories or limiting my intake of delicious frozen yogurt and peppermint ice cream. I've eaten more than I have in weeks. And I've started consuming more coffee and diet coke.

But my weight has stayed the same over the past week. And I'm happy for that. But this journey is, at this point in time, a weight loss journey not a weight maintenance journey.

I'm excited about where I am right now on the scale and in the sense of the size of clothes. I'm three sizes smaller than when I started. And I'm close to the weight I was when I got married in 2008.

At the same time, though, I have a ways to go. I've lost 33 pounds so far and about 20 inches. My goal includes losing another 67 pounds and however many inches that works out to. I would say another 40 inches but that seems almost too much.

Knowing that I still have 67 pounds to lose, and no time to just maintain, I realize that it is time for me to step out of hiding and announce my struggles so that I can once again make my way back into the life of healthy.

How to get back into the life of health and exercise is different for everyone. For some people, they can just do it. And while I could be like those people, I know that just doing it won't work long term. Because I always get to a point where I am too tired to just do it.

So it comes down to planning for me. Being a Type-A personality, I am a master of planning in many ways. But most of my plans involve what will happen in the future and not necessarily how to get there. I'm also a person who struggles with focusing on the here and the now as I prefer to focus on what things will be like five and ten years down the road.

My biggest downfall, over the last almost 8 months, has been lack of planning. I've failed to plan out my workouts for the week, meals for the week, snacks for the week. My life is picking up speed in several different areas, and I'm finding my time stretched between different commitments to myself, to work, to friends, and to my family. I want to keep all of those commitments, but I can only do that through lots of planning.

That's how I will spend this week. I'll plan grocery lists for two weeks at a time (and then stick to the lists), exercises for two weeks, snacks and meals, and also how I spend my time. My plan will look different from another person's plan because my life and responsibilities will differ from another's life and responsibilities.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about what 2012 holds. Because I am. I'm at a make it or break it point. I know I never want to go back to where I was in April, but I also know that lack of planning and follow through could easily lead to just that. And I realize that I need accountability in the way of friends, family, and blogging. But accountability doesn't work if I refuse to admit to anyone that I am struggling. Accountability also doesn't work if people do not know what to hold me accountable for.

Along with the planning, I need to focus. That focus needs to be placed back on me and my journey instead of on other people's journeys. I love success stories. They motivate me, but lately I find myself frustrated because I haven't succeeded in the same way another person has or in the same time frame. And that needs to stop - for my healthy and my sanity.

When I see success stories, I forget about the rest of the story. I see where another person is now but not how they got there or where they came from. Even though the might share their struggles I don't realize they are still there in the background because I am too focused on wishing I could be right where they are.

There's no perfect way of getting to a point of losing 100 pounds. And losing 100 pounds isn't going to fix any person's life. The weight isn't the issue; it's a product of the issue.

I've moved past a lot of my struggles - the reasons that I got to a point where I needed to lose 100 pounds. There was a lot of excess baggage I carried for years. Now that it's gone, I feel great, but I also know that more baggage could load itself onto me in the way of pounds if I don't share during the times when I want to do nothing more than eat a huge bowl of macaroni and cheese or pepermint ice cream (or both - not from the same bowl) rather than sweat and move at the gym.

And right now, I would much rather sit on the couch. But I am going to plan out how to not do that. And then I am going to stick to that plan - confessing when I am struggling and celebrating when I am succeeding.

Here's to 33 pounds lost and another 67 left to lose.

(title from "where'd you go" by fort minor feat. holly brooke)

benefits of exercise (a guest post)

2011-12-08T09:13:00.001-06:00

Since starting this blog, I've been approached to host different giveaways as well as to publish articles about different topics. I've said no to every opportunity except for one - this one.

Having suffered from illness (with no real cause or understanding in some cases), I know how important exercise is. I'm still very much in the midst of my journey, but I am finding that all aspects of my life are imroving. It's because of my experiences, and learning on a daily basis how much my body needs exericse, that I'm sharing this information with you today.

Melanie Bowen is a part-time blog contributor at Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance and also has her own personal blog - Milady Knows. She is advocate for natural health and cancer patients. She also assists in social media outreach in her efforts to spread awareness. You can also find Melanie on twitter and facebook. Thank you so much for sharing your information, and passions, with me and my readers, Melanie!

It is a well-known fact that exercise can improve our physical and mental well-being. It burns fat, builds muscle, and makes us look better. That is the reason most of us do it, but exercise isn't just about making us look better; it's about making us feel better as well. There are a number of health benefits to exercise, so it makes sense that it will help those with a chronic or terminal illness feel better and increase life expectancy.

Exercise can help with an abundance of chronic and terminal illnesses such as cancer, diabetes, arthritis, heart disease, depression, and fibromyalgia. Even patients with lung conditions like asthma, bronchitis, emphysema, or mesothelioma can feel physical and psychological improvement when diet and exercise are added to their treatment plan. So what are the physical benefits of exercise?

Other than trimming the waist, exercise helps make us feel better and promote longevity, especially when used alongside a healthy diet. Some physical benefits include lower cholesterol and blood pressure, strengthening of the heart, stress reduction, decreased blood sugar levels, and increased muscle strength. Exercise is also beneficial in the way of increasing energy levels and endurance, raising the body's capability to fight infection, improving sleep patterns, and reducing shortness of breath according to National Jewish Health. Healthy adults who do not exercise usually lack energy, get out of breath easily, have trouble doing simple physical activities, and can be overweight. Add an illness to that and imagine how run down it can make you feel. Failing to exercise can make a chronic or terminal illness worse, in turn making it harder to fight. When exploring and consulting with a doctor for their opinions on overall health and wellness outside of traditional treatment, one should be motivated to start their path of clarity and healing.

Many terminal illnesses, especially cancer treatment, expose patients to radiation and chemicals, causing pain, weakness, nausea, and vomiting. Exercise increases strength, lung function, and overall health, making it easier to conquer the side effects of treatment. Another benefit patients will see is stress and depression relief. Exercise gives them an outlet for all of the negative emotions they are feeling. Getting up and moving around gives them a sense of accomplishment and lets them feel in control. Instead of lying in bed letting the illness get to them, they are taking charge and increasing their body's ability to fight the disease.

Deciding to start an exercise regimen is the first step to improving recovery. Your doctor will know the best thing for your body, and together you can decide what will work for you. You don't have to go to a gym to get the exercise you need either. You can do simple things in your home like walking up and down the hall or stairs, lifting light objects such as soup cans, or following a fitness video. All you need to do is start moving. Before you know it, you will be feeling better, both physically and emotionally.

and i will waste no time

2011-12-07T14:02:00.000-06:00

I graduated college in May 2008. Armed with dreams and a bit of naivity about how the real world works, I was excited for more free time, the freedom to write whatever I wanted, and the knowledge that I would be living in my own apartment and could enjoy as much solitude as I wanted.

Years of education had made me think I didn't have any real free time. I felt that, without papers to write and tests to study for and three jobs to work on top of a full-load of classes, I would have all the time in the world. What I didn't realize then, and what I am starting to realize now, is that I have just as much time now as I did then.

My first year after college I was busy. I moved into an apartment and then moved out of it months later due to busted pipes. I worked a job that required the majority of my time and energy. I planned and executed a wedding in less than four months. Then I settled, or tried to settle, into my first year of marriage. Four months later we bought and moved into a new house.

I didn't really have a lot of free time then. And when I did have any free time, I had no energy to spend on writing or any real desire to write. Five years of writing papers, stories, novels and articles took away all of my desire to write. And then all I really wanted to do was absolutely nothing at all during my free time.

It's been over three years since I graduated college. We'll have lived in our house for three years this coming January. I enjoy writing again. The ideas are slowly trickling back into my head, and I'm responding by writing character profiles and outlines. I struggle with how to spend my free time and wonder how I did it all in college.

Maybe it was the lifestyle of college. Being free and knowing I could skip class whenever I wanted (which never happened - ever). Feeling like all-nighters and choosing friends and fun over an early night of sleep was expected. Knowing I could roll out of bed and head to class or work in a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt. But at that time, I made so much more time for everything than I do now. I chose to put effort and time into classes, into relationships, into writing, and into myself. I might not have made it to the gym each day, but I did at least attempt a work out every so often.

Today, I find myself at multiple crossroads. My job is no longer as consuming. I have time to write. And yet I still prefer to sit on the couch, watch television, and then head to bed early. I make countless excuses about how busy I am and how I just can't do everything. But it's a choice I've made - this choice on how to spend my evenings, my mornings, and my lunch breaks. Even my weekends.

I've spent a lot of time wanting things to change. Wanting to write. Wanting our house to be fixed. Willing and wishing and praying for a way to do it all. And it's a lot to take on, especially when I so desperately want balance in all aspects of my life, but it's all things I need to just take on. It's choices that need to be made of how to spend my time and my money and where to put my energy.

I'm not naive enough to think that I can do everything and do it all well. I know my schedule is more restricted now than it was when I was in college and could work before class, between classes, and then in the evenings. And I have a husband to think about as well as two dogs that want my attention and a house that seems to need to be cleaned daily. But I can do this. I can make the choices that need to be made, the sacrifice of sleep when other things take priority, and the determination/drive to make my life work for me in the way I need it to.

I still spend a lot of time comparing myself to others. And I'm trying to stop. It's a daily struggle and a daily process. This wondering of where I am compared to this person or that. This questioning of why I want some things others don't or why I have no desire to have my own children but really want to adopt or foster. And this wondering of where my life is going, what will happen in the next few months and years, when I will get close to figuring it all out, and why it seems so much is harder than I thought it would be.

And I want the answers to those wonderings. Desperately. They might be out there, too, but I am not finding them with how I am currently living my life.

So I am making choices and decisions that will impact my life. Every choice results in a response - good or bad (sometimes both). I'm prepared for the good, the bad, and the somewhere in between. I know that it might be hard living with the choices and what happens after I decide.. I'll have to be more dilligent with my time and start the day off with even more coffee. And I know it's going to be hard to remain constant with writing, motivated with working out, and determined. But I also know it will be worth it.

And I know I can do it.

Writing this blog has taught me so much. I'm not one to write about the daily ongoings of my life. I'm terrible at taking pictures to post. And I spend my time with friends enjoying the laughter rather than thinking about how it relates to a post or how I might work it into my blog.

But I've found a voice. A voice I didn't know I had. This voice talks about struggles and thoughts and all these things that are a little more serious. But this voice is helping me to peel off my layers and see the beauty in my life. It's given me a deeper understanding of my strengths.

And this voice has reminded me that I really can do anything I set my mind to. It might take me longer than some, but I've still lost 33 pounds. My house might need a lot of work still, but with curtains hung (three years later), it's turning into a home. And I might never be a mother in the traditional sense, but there's a desire there to care for children that I will one day turn into a reality.

I will never share every choice here. Some are more private. And some are harder to describe. But I'm excited right now for all the possibilities I see before me. And for all the doors, that were once sealed shut, opening because of the choices I am making.

(title from "clarity" by john mayer)

celebrating the small things (week 2)

2011-12-06T06:32:00.000-06:00

Show me where to go and what steps to take. Make the path known for my life. Grant me wisdom and discernment to decide how to move forward and when to skip to the side. Those words tumble off my lips and flood my mind to any given day. I consider which way I might skip and if now is the time to step out in faith. I concentrate on the dreams I have - dreams that are not ready to become reality - and lose focus on the here and the now.

It usually happens that I think I know. It feels right. Everything is in line, and yes, this is the direction I need to move.

Suddenly the door that was once open is shut, and there is no window to peak through. So much time was spent considering the possibility and what I knew would happen - what I felt should happen - that I didn't stop to think about how it might not happen.

I know this about myself. This need to plan and understand the possibilities I want to have happen. There's always a fear that by wanting something I will make it so it will not happen. By planning, it's almost as if I am guaranteed to have things go completely the opposite direction.

There's always a bit of light, peaking through the bottom of the door like the cold air slinks into our house through the crack between the front door and the wood floors. Sometimes I see the light and move closer to it, feeling the warmth and understanding that there is always a way. Other times I notice only the cold and forget that God is there in those moments too.

I think I know what He has called me to, and then I wonder at the same time. As much as I plan, there is beauty and grace and hope found in all of these unknowns. And there's a choice. Do I step where I think I should step or do I step into the places I fear - the places that are not a guaranteed success?

The idea came to me last week. Similar to ideas I've had before but this time it held a strength it's never held before. Pictures and moments in a time that doesn't quite exist yet outside of my mind. A story to tell that is no one's story and yet so many people's story.

So I listened. I listened and imagined and thought about what it could mean. This story that needs to be told. This story that found me and knocked on my heart and asked to be told.

After I listened, I sat. My fingers danced over the keys and the words poured onto the page. A summary. Descriptions of characters. An outline as bare as possible. And then a hope that had been extinguished by the cold air suddenly gaining strength from the light that slips through the crack under the door.

Do this for yourself. Think about the words you want to say. The experiences you've had. The children who deserve a voice. The people who should know. And then do something about it.

So I am.

As this one door that was once closed now opens back up, I see the possibilities. Not just here at a computer telling a story that came to me. But in other aspects of my life. An understanding of why so many doors have been closed and some never even opened. An acceptance of this life and an excitement at all the places it might lead.

But I know to be careful. To keep my hands open but my eyes shut. I need to feel how to get there and not to walk the paths I think are right but might really be wrong. It's time to trust and to breathe and to allow these moments in time to turn into more than I could have ever dreamed of.

I am just a vessel. This life of mine will be a wisp of smoke so quickly gone. But this story, and any other stories that might come after it, can live on longer.

i have to want to leave the ground

2011-12-05T07:00:00.001-06:00

I've never been a fast runner. Really I've never been a runner. And in the past that was fine. Planned even. In the past, I had no desire to be a runner.

But now, I do.

When I took PE class, I generally walked the required mile. There was a group of us who would walk and maybe jog some for the benefit of the teachers. None of us had any real desire to run. We were in PE class because it was a required part of our education and not because we chose to be.

Now, upon entering the gym, I am there because I choose to be. Yes, it is a helpful part of my weight loss journey, but I could strictly watch my calories and still lose weight. I did that last week and lost a pound. I go to the gym because I like the endorphins and because sweating up a storm makes me feel better about myself.

I forgot that last week. I gave into the impending winter weather. I allowed myself rest. It helped some, but now it is Monday morning of a new week and I am still tired. I still don't want to go to the gym. So this week, instead of resting, I am going to force myself to finish.

In PE class, your times of completing a mile are compared with the other students (at least they were for me) as well as with the time you took to complete your previous mile. Knowing I would never win against another student allowed me, in my mind, the opportunity not to try.

And while I do compare myself to others in the gym, my time and my effort really only matters for myself. I'm not doing this for a grade or to be able to look at others and say I can run faster than you. I am doing this because I want to be healthy and because I want the joy of saying I finished that mile in my fastest time yet.

More than that, I want to reclaim the joy of just saying that I finished. I want to rediscover the feeling of accomplishment I get after a workout. I want to remember how much I love the gym. And I want to stop allowing my injuries or exhaustion to take over.

Because I am injured. I have a knee that hurts all of the time. And I'm not going to be able to break into a sprint or come in first during a 5k. But right now all that matters is that I try and that I not give up. Right now I need to push through the pain and rehabilitate my knee. I need to stop making excuses and stop allowing things to get in my way.

I need to remember that I will never again be that girl who took 20 minutes to finish a mile. And I need to remember that I will always be the girl who finishes.

(title from "on my way here" by ryan tedder)

done looking for the critics (week 5)

2011-12-02T14:05:00.000-06:00

This week has not been what I wanted or expected. After a weekend of resting, shopping, eating good food, and not worrying about too many things, I had hopes of a week full of energy and hours spent at the gym. I set my alarm every day to go off before 5:30am so I could get in a morning work out.

I turned the alarm off every day and didn't even pretend to consider getting out of bed with the intention of sweating for an hour at the gym.

Each night I've gotten home exhausted. In fact, I've spent the entire day at work exhausted. The coffee I brew in the morning doesn't seem to help. And neither does the caffeine I try to sneak in during the work day.

Maybe I'm not drinking enough water? Or maybe my body is fighting off another infection. Maybe it's because the cold and grey skies are becoming more normal than not in Oklahoma City. I'm not sure. I just know what this week has been a week of missed work-outs, eating macaroni and cheese for dinner, and just trying to make it through the week.

There will always be weeks like this. Sometimes just getting out of bed and making decent food choice is all you can do. Sometimes your body needs a break. And sometimes fitness just isn't a priority.

I've come a good distance in other ways. I have ideas for a novel. I want to write. I've enjoyed snuggling on the couch with my husband. And I am 3/4 of the way through Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins. And I haven't beat myself up too badly for not working out. Because I know there's a reason I feel so sluggish, a reason I just can't seem to muster the energy to even change into my work-out clothes.

So what do you do during these times? Some people would say to push through. Go to the gym any ways. Just get it done. There are times when I agree with that. But right now? Right now this is not something I can push through. Right now I need to just take whatever time my body needs and allow myself to not spend 10 hours in the gym.

Winter has made it's slow descent on Oklahoma. There's a possibility of snow on Monday (which I am praying against), and I've already spent a few mornings in my car waiting for my frosted windows to defrost. I had hoped the cold temperatures wouldn't slow my weight loss, but they have. As much as I want to be healthy, I am fighting the battle to just hibernate through the winter and live in oversized sweaters.

I used to like cold weather. I think it's because I spent so many years living in Houston where there is no (real) cold weather and also because I could and would live in a hooded sweatshirt and Uggs if life allowed. But now the cold is becoming my enemy. It threatens to take my health and my ability to wake up early in the morning and dominate a work out.

This week is not a result of the cold weather. It's a result of my body needing a rest. It's a result of my mind coming to grips with closed doors and with new possibilities. It's a result of me making a choice to not push myself as hard as I have in the past. But I know that this week could very quickly become the normal occurrence for the winter, and that's something I don't want to allow to happen.

I went shopping on Black Friday for one reason and one reason only. All of my clothese were too big. I bought pants and jeans and a few tops (some pictured to the left as I spent most of this week wearing said new clothes and somewhat attempting to style my hair). I'm planning on making these things last me through the winter, and I'm trading my too-big clothes into Daisy Exchange or Plato's Closet once I have time to run some errands. So I simply can not hibernate. I must keep working out and bidding farewell to excess pounds.

This week, even though I've barely stepped foot in the gym, I have felt decently about myself. I spent weeks feeling less than decent. Everything I owned was too big and felt frumpy. I thought I would never get to a point where I felt comfortable enough to shop again. And then I did. While my worth is not found in material possessions, an outfit in which I feel somewhat cute does quite a bit for my confidence. And I needed that.

Feeling decent this week has reminded me that my worth is not found in the number on the scale or the number of miles I complete on the elliptical. It's found on the inside. Similarly feeling decent is not found in my job or the path my life is taking. Those things impact it but they do not define me.

They say change is made on the inside (at least that's what Bob Harper has said on an episode or two of The Biggest Loser). And this week there have been a lot of inside changes. I'm excited to see how they impact my work outs once I get back in the gym, but I am even more excited to see how those changes impact the rest of my life.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

the answer that could never be found

2011-12-01T08:53:00.001-06:00

I've spent a lot of time recently looking inward. Thinking about what I want. And by that I mean what I want from life and also what I want to be in when I "grow up."

As a child, the options are endless. You can want to be a singer, a dancer, an astronaut, a doctor, a vet. Years go by, and eventually the childhood fantasies are meant to end. You find one thing you like, are good at, or can at least stand, and that's what you do - if you're lucky.

There's no college degree for the perfect job. And really there is no perfect job. So many of us spend years going from one job to another looking for fulfillment. It's something that plagues my generation (and me!) maybe more than the older generations. Not that people older than I don't deserve to be happy or to find that fulfillment from a job - they do - but they tend to stick it out better than I do.

This morning I thought about what I would do if time wasn't an issue - if money wasn't an issue. And if fear weren't an issue. I really thought about it. It's a question I've considered a lot, but usually my answers move to the focus of money and how I need more money to do the things I want. And my answers move to how the things I want could make me more money. Or to doing the thing I know I am good at.

I'm the sort of person who collects quotes. I have a whole board on pinterest dedicated to words that matter. There are plaques hung in my house with thoughtful quotes. I have blog posts dedicated to pretty words. I used to have a whole journal of just quotes. But those quotes have just been words for too long. They haven't been truth for me.

I've been vocal about the fact that I concentrate too much on the next phase of my life. I've said that I need to learn how to let go. And I've tried. But I haven't completely released the grasp I have on controlling my life and thus stifling my dreams.

I bought that plaque in California during Spring Break. I was in college and went to Los Angeles to visit my aunt. My dreams were endless then. I didn't have a mortgage or bills or anything to keep me from living my life to the absolute fullest.

I was a writing major in college. I started as a nursing major and then changed to an English major before settling on a degree in professional writing through the journalism college. Many of my hours were spent writing for class and for fun. Short stories, articles, fan fiction at one time, and eventually a novel for a class.

My college apartment was a two-bedroom apartment, and my bedroom walls were painted yellow. I loved sitting on my bed with my back against the wall and MacBook or Dell (depending on the year) in my lap. Hours were spent there with keys on the fingers. Sometimes I moved to the couch in our living room with purple walls and wrote with the television on.

That apartment was home to me. I felt safe and comfortable there. Creativity flowed. I don't know if it was the apartment so much or the freedom that came with college. While I worked three jobs and had a full load of classes, I had time to do whatever I wanted.

They say you make time for the things that are important to you. And I agree in a lot of ways. But how do you make time for all the things that are important? How do you master that balance?

I've been working on balance this week. Less time has been spent in the gym and more time has been spent focused on my diet. My brain has been wracked with blog posts and questions about how I want to spend my time. And I keep coming back to three things: writing, healthy living, and serving.

I miss the girl I was in the college. The one who could balance a social life along with those three jobs and full load of classes - the one who only got one C at OU. The one who had dreams of living in New York City and writing novels and doing all these things because of the love of the written word and the sound of clacking keys not because of any other reason.

I'm become more intune with that girl from college now than I have been in years. I'm letting go of all these expectations that I think I should have and moving away from the order I think my life should take. I'm bidding farewell to comparisons of my life with another person's life and saying hello to who I am and want to be.

Growing up, my dad read me a lot of Dr. Seuss. In fifth grade, he read Oh! The Places You Will Go to my class. I gave him the book with a personalized inscription one year for Christmas because I started to realize just what that book said and meant. I started to realize how badly my parents wished for me to go to all the places I dreamed of.

I've always been allowed to dream and to wander. But I've been the person to squash my dreams and say they aren't possible. I've taken all the wonderful things people have said and denied the truth to them. I've told myself that being an author isn't possible. That I'll never find success the way others have.

But the thing is? It's not about success. It's about doing what I love and loving what I do. That has everything to do with writing and everything to do with weight loss.

The question about how to spend my time is a complicated one. But the answer is oh so simple. Of course the simple answers are sometimes the hardest ones to come by.

I don't know what this realization means for this blog other than I am going to do my best to stop tracking page views, and I am going to just write. If it's too serious for some, then fine. If there isn't enough, fluff. Fine. And if it's not motivation enough, that's okay too. It's not about them; it's about me.

And as far as the rest of my writing, I am just going to do it. I am going to find time to curl up on our purple chair and write with my feet propped on the matching ottomon. With exercise, I am going to seek out inspiration when I need it and jump onto the elliptical or go to a class because I enjoy it not because I need or want to lose weight.

I'm going to start living my life the way I did in college: with no restrictions and with a determination to enjoy every possible minute.

There's a plaque on our living room wall that reads "I don't want to make money. I just want to be wonderful." It's by Marilyn Monroe.

That's what I want. To be wonderful. To live out my dreams. To enjoy every minute. And if the money follows? Even better. But I won't be chasing that money. I'll just be chasing the dreams, the worlds, the wonderful, and all the places I can go.

(title from "let love in" by the goo goo dolls)

you've got the power

2011-11-30T06:35:00.000-06:00

After four days away from the gym, I changed into my work-out clothes today and spent my lunch hour on the elliptical and on the mat doing ab exercises with the CorBall.

Every time I go to the gym, I watch the people around me. What is their heart rate? How fast are they moving on the elliptical? What exercises are they doing? Sometimes I try to incorporate their habits into my work out. Other times I think to myself that they are doing this or that wrong. Every now and then I recognize that they are more fit than I am. Then I store their moves into the back of my mind with the intention of utilizing it once I am more physically able.

The internet allows us to have all information at our fingertips. You simply type something into google.com and suddenly you have endless information available to you. Some of the information is repetitive, and some of the information is anything but helpful. But it's all there.

There's this need and desire I have for things to follow a certain order. I want to know what steps I need to take. How do I achieve fulfillment? How do I go about settling on a career and then moving my way up and through that career? What steps do I need to take in order to successfully lose 100 pounds and then maintain that weight loss?

I could find all of those answers and more with a simple search. I could also walk through the aisles of a bookstore and find a book on every topic. Some of those search results and aisles might yield helpful information. But that's all it is. It's just information.

No one can tell me exactly how to go about losing 100 pounds. There is the idea of cutting calories and increasing activity. And that works. But exactly how much do I cut calories? And how much activity is too much activity?

The answer is different for everyone. Just like the path a life takes is different for everyone.

I find myself at a crossroads almost everyday. It's a crossroads about what I want to do and who I want to be. It's a crossroads of wondering how I should go about standing out or if I should just try to blend in. Sometimes I mention my questions and thoughts to other people. Other times, I remain quiet and pensive.

This evening, I finally moved the laundry off of the washing machine and dryer. I dropped it on the foot of the bed and set about my least favorite chore: folding and putting away the clean (and now wrinkled) clothes. The whole time I considered this need to have a plan. This desire to know exactly what I have to do to lose weight or land my dream job.

There is no plan I can follow directly. Life is not a straight line. It's a series of twists and turns. Every decision impacts where a person goes next. And while I do believe God has certain hopes for us and intentions for our lives, how we land at those points is completely up to us. It's why we have free will. Because He could just make every decision for us and allow us to follow a completely straight path. But He would rather us figure it out on our own.

That in itself is a blessing. Yet I so often turn that blessing into a curse and mutter about how I just want to know what is going to happen next. I just want to know when I will finally figure out exactly what my life is supposed to be.

At 26, I don't need to have it all figured out. I shouldn't have it figured all out. If I did, what would I do with the next 40 or 50 or 60 years left in my life?

It's easy to think about the now. How each decision impacts my current state. It's also easy to ignore the now and think about only the future - how I will do this or that once I reach a certain point in my career or once I have a certain amount of money in my bank account. Really I can't just concentrate on the now or the future. I need to open myself up to both. My life is meant to be lived in the present but with intention because I want the present to lead to an even better future.

And it's not just about me. This life and these decisions. Yes how I treat myself is important, and yes it is my life to live. But I want my life to be so much more than just my life.

Someone might stumble upon my blog with a question about how to lose 100 pounds. Or a statement about wanting to love themselves and feel beautiful. And I would love to give them every ounce of knowledge I have. I would love the opportunity to meet somewhere for coffee, especially a gingerbread latte with Christmas season at hand, and just talk. To hear their story and then also share mine. To understand how our lives interconnect and maybe to help them find their way. But I wouldn't be able to instill any true advice on how to live their lives.

My advice would come from my experience. The advice would be what I had learned on my journey. Maybe it would help for them to know they weren't alone. I know that helps me. But it would just be assistance. It wouldn't be the easy and clear answer they were searching for - the easy and clear answer I hope to find each time I search google.com.

I'm thankful for every result I find on google.com. I think it's imperative that we all share our stories. I think it's a gift to have the internet as a way of connecting and as a reminder what we are never alone in our struggles, our hopes, and our achievements.

But I also know to take everything with a grain of salt. I know that some of my questions will go unanswered. And I know that my life will never follow the exact same path as someone else. But that's a beautiful thing - the fact that we are all so different and yet to so similar.

So, if you ever see me in the gym watching you, just know I am intrigued. Know that your effort inspires my effort. Know that I love that I can get ideas from you. Know that you, and the story you are living, help me get back into the swing of things after four days away from exercise of any kind.

And if you are looking for answers and a clear path, just remember that you are not alone. And those answers? That path? It will all become clear for you in it's own time. And once it does, the wait will have been worth it. A reminder that is just as much for me as it is for you.

(title from "someone still believes in you" by mary beth maziarz)

celebrating the small things (week 1)

2011-11-29T08:20:00.000-06:00

We moved into our house in January 2009. After six months of living in a small, old apartment and listening to our neighbors stomp and yell drunkenly. After a scare when we awoke to a fire burning in a building just feet away from our home. After knowing that many of the people living around us were involved in illegal matters.

It wasn't the house I first fell in love with. It was the second house. Tired of searching and ready to have somewhere to turn into a real home. Feeling like this was it. Big, a good price, nestled in an area that was gaining popularity.

It didn't take long for me to fall out of love with the house. To notice the creaks and the widening cracks. To feel the chill that came in through the windows. To know that we took on so much more than we could handle. And to wonder, for nearly three years, why it was that we felt God allowed us to buy this house that was obviously not something we could take care of.

We're still there. And I still cringe at the creaks. I eye all of the cracks. And I wonder how we will make this work. I pray for God to move. For something to happen. And then I wait. I don't do anything to turn the house into the home. I wave off all the kind things others say about the house. Then I point out the flaws. I talk about everything that is wrong and how I don't know how we will fix it all. I worry. And I don't trust.

I want the house to be the home. But until recently, I haven't wanted to do the work.

The temperature is dipping. We've had a few nights of lows in the 20s already. And I know I can't make it through another winter with the frozen air pushing through the windows and stealing any warmth our central heating unit and little space heaters provide.

So I made a choice. I spent the money and purchased curtains. I hung them first in our bedroom. They don't stop all of the cold air, but they help. And with the green and brown hanging over the windows the room was transformed from a dingy space to a bedroom I felt almost glad to call my own.

With a little extra money in our account, and curtains on sale, I spent much of Sunday hanging more curtains. Covering the windows in the dining room, the living room, and the study. Transforming those three rooms from somehwat decorated rooms to completed rooms.

I notice the cracks still. There's worry over how we will make it all work. And the house is still a bit colder than any of us would like. But it's a start. The beginning of taking the house we've lived in for three years and turning it into a home.

I'm not sure what will happen. If we'll be able to afford putting as much money into it as it needs or not. But I do know that, for now, I can use this home God has given me and find things inside of it to be thankful for.

done looking for the critics (week 4)

2011-11-27T17:28:00.000-06:00

I made a decision to be thankful and grateful and not a Scrooge this holiday season. While it is difficult to not be with my parents, brother, and Nana to eat turducken and laugh around the dining room table, I want to enjoy the traditions I have with my husband and with my in-laws.

The beginning of Thanksgiving Day started with a new tradition. A tradition I decided on all on my own. A sweaty, 85-minute work out. With earbuds in, I completed my very own 5k on the elliptical and then pushed through an upper body strength work out. After the work out, I called my family to wish them a happy Thanksgiving. Then I came home and roasted butternut squash and brussel sprouts. By 1pm, we were at my in-laws ready to eat turkey and all the sides that accompany Thanksgiving.

It was the first holiday I wasn't sad. There's never been a time when I felt anything less than loved and accepted with my in-laws. They've always welcomed me into their family. Even when my husband and I were just dating. They made sure I had family to spend the holidays with and opened their home and traditions to me in case I didn't.

But I've always missed my family and our traditions. I've always struggled with how to combine my traditions with my husbands, and I spent more time wishing for my traditions instead of appreciating the traditions around me.

Not this year. I would have loved to wake up and drink a smoothie with my family before turducken. I would have loved to smell the homemade pumpkin pie my mom makes and eat a few too many of my Nana's potatoes. And I could have spent the day wishing for those things. But I didn't because I know I'll get to experience all of those things again at some point.

Instead I enjoyed the holidays here. I decided there was no time or room for sadness. I refused to do anything but enjoy every moment of the holidays. And I did.

I spent several hours thinking about what I was thankful for. There were the obvious things like food, clothing, shelter, and family. Those are things that not everyone has. I could have easily written a post about the things I was thankful for, and I almost did. But I wanted whatever I said about the holidays to hold as much honesty and emotion as it could.

So I'm thankful for those things. The food we had on the table. The clothes I bought on Black Friday. The family I talked to on the phone, the family I ate Thanksgiving dinner with, the family I shopped with. The house my husband and I live in with it's size and possibilities.

I am also thankful for this journey. It's hard navigating the table and the kitchen during a holiday that food is so much a part of. And I didn't do the best job. I ate too many mashed potatoes and not enough brussel sprouts. I drank too much diet coke and gave into momentary desires of buttery popcorn at the movie theatre. While I spent Thursday morning at the gym, I didn't make it on Friday or Saturday.

That's why it's a journey. If it were a straight path from overweight to in shape, it would be a line to walk and not a journey. A weight loss journey is going to include struggle and mistakes and bruised knees. It is also going to include successes and realizations and big grins. The holiday weekend had those things in it along with the difficulty I had navigating the table.

The holiday weekend also included time spent on the couch watching The Biggest Loser. It wasn't until the current season that I actually started watching the show. I've read books written by former contestants and watched Jillian Michaels' spin-off show. But due to an already full DVR, I had never taken the time to watch the past seasons. Then I discovered that Netflix has all of the past seasons available to watch instantly.

I haven't gone in order of seasons. Instead I've watched the seasons I've heard to be the most inspiring. I started with season 8. And I teared up during almost every episode. I felt connected to Shay due to my field of profession. And to Abby because of her faith. And to Danny because he was from Oklahoma. When the season ended, I wasn't sure what season to watch next. I remembered a tweet a friend sent me about a specific moment in season 11, and I decided that would be the next season.

Watching season 11 was therapeutic for me in many ways. Because I am the contestants. I have the fear of getting hurt that Sarah had. I have the feelings of nothing being good enough that Hannah talked of. And Olivia with her faithful and supportive husband was also me.

In the end, the final three were all female. And they all lost an incredible amount of weight. But what I loved the most was the friendships they shared with each other and how they all said it wasn't about winning the money or losing the most amount of weight. It was about changing on the inside, that change being reflected on the outside, and how they all then have taken that change and allowed it to impact other people. I also loved that they proved people wrong. There were people who said they couldn't and they responded with "yes, I can." And then they did.

I don't know if there is anyone in my life who has said I can't lose the weight. I don't know if there is anyone in my life who thinks I will gain in all back. For all I know, there are people in my life who are waiting for me to fail. But it doesn't matter. Because just like Hannah did, (if they do exist) I am going to prove them wrong. And just like Olivia did, I am going to prove to myself that I can finish.

I may never be on The Biggest Loser. And I won't lose weight as quickly as the contestants. I don't have one of the world's best trainers. My weight loss will not result in $250,000 or $100,000. I can focus on the things I won't have - the things Olivia and Hannah had - or I can think about what I do have and what will happen after my weight loss.

I think my life and my dreams start with losing this weight. I think this journey is the first step to the rest of my life. I think God has placed me in the place I am with a specific purpose. And while I've learned a lot and changed some, I know I haven't fully given into the process. I've held on my wants and desires more than I've opened myself to the opportunities God might be placing in my path.

So I'm choosing thankfulness. It's a choice I have to make daily and sometimes multiple times a day. Because it's easy to be thankful one minute and then feel like everything is crashing down the next. Something will go wrong every day. It might be something small like a speeding ticket or something big like losing a job. And when those things go wrong, I have a choice to turn to God and thank Him for being constant or to forget Him and turn into myself and wonder why this or that is happening to me.

I choose the latter most of the time. I say I won't next time, but I usually do. And it needs to stop. I need to be thankful always. As my husband says, nothing terrible has happened. And it hasn't; God always, always provides a way.

So today, on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, I am thankful for friends, for family, for a roof over my head, for my husband, for our two crazy dogs, for opportunities and closed doors, for weight loss and weight gain, for the The Biggest Loser and the contestants that touched me, and for a God who provides me with eyes to see the things I have to be thankful for.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

there'll come a day

2011-11-23T06:51:00.000-06:00

After a week away from the gym and then a week finding myself back in the gym, I've realized that I need to push myself even harder. I need to not become comfortable with the gym. I need to constantly push myself to run faster, bike harder, and lift heavier.

The gym still intimidates me. When I first started this journey, it terrified me. I felt out of place and as though I would never belong. I wasn't thin or tan or fit or pretty or anything that I thought the other people in the gym were. And even though the gym intimidates me, I am determined to continue to step foot into the gym and continue to ignore the other people at the gym.

When I step foot into the gym, I do it with purpose. My purpose is to sweat, to burn calories, to move as much as I possibly can. It's not to socialize or meet new people. I love having a friend next to me on the elliptical or on the mat because my friends push me to work out harder.

The further I go into this journey to more I see that my work outs need to constantly change. The first work out I completed left me exhausted and sore. As I continued to push myself and spend time in the gym, the soreness disappeared. I enjoyed completing a work out, waking up the next morning with no soreness and getting after it again. I felt like I was getting stronger. And I was, in a lot of ways, but I was also becoming complacent and comfortable.

It's no secret that the body adapts to exercise. The body is smart. It recognizes the movements and becomes comfortable with those movements. And that comfort makes it so that the body stops adapting and stop changing. No amount of exercise, for me at least, can undo the comfort unless the movements are different.

Changing exercise scares me. I'm worried about getting hurt. I'm worried about doing exercises incorrectly. I'm worried about looking like a fool in front of other people who know what they are doing.

Last Wednesday, I took a chance. There was a free boot camp hosted at my place of employment. All you had to do to participate was to bring a canned food. So I borrowed a can of food from a co-worker and headed to boot camp with her.

That day I did things I wasn't sure I could do. I tried new exercises. I spoke up when I couldn't do something and took the instruction on how to modify movements to meet my needs. And I didn't give up.

Months ago, I met with a trainer for a personalized consultation. He wrote down weights for me to complete without really listening to my needs. And he told me that I should do planks and squats. I told him I didn't know what a plank was and that I could not do squats.

He mentioned that I should attend one of his classes and that he would then show me how to do the proper squat as well as teach me how to do a plank. I thought about going, but I never did. I was too scared.

It wasn't just fear of doing squats and possibly getting hurt. There was fear of letting someone in and seeking advice. That sounds odd; after all a trainer's job is to show individuals how to exercise in such a way that gets results and also meets the needs of one person's body.

I've gotten over that fear now. All of those fears. It happened one day in zumba class when the instructor began doing squats in the middle of the class, and I had nothing to but learn how to complete squats with the proper form.

So I did the squats then. And after class was done, I walked out of the gym. My knees never gave out as I feared they would. I completed squats again in other zumba classes, and I spent time doing squats while at the boot camp on Wednesday.

After mentioning my knee injuries to the trainers, they checked on me. Making sure I was okay with the different circuits. Asking how I felt with squats. And I told them I was good that I knew to listen to my body and that I wouldn't push myself too far.

I didn't. I pushed myself and tried new things. I sweated a lot and woke up the next day sore. But I wasn't hurt.

I'm chasing the soreness now. I want to feel my muscles working and strengthening. I want to know, as soon as I wake up the next morning, that I am no longer comfortable with my own work outs.

I am so much more open to exercise now. I'm excited to try different classes and to learn what other things I can do that I didn't think I could. I'm excited to see how I improve at squats. I'm excited to jump on the elliptical throughout the week and run out several miles.

Every time I do a squat and finish a mile, I move further away from the fear and closer to the fit and healthy person I am chasing. Every time I push myself and try something new, I remind myself that this journey is mine for the taking. Every time I complete a work out with shaking arms, as I did today, or wake up sore from the work out the day before, I move further and further away from comfortable.

(title from "the sun will rise" by kelly clarkson)

shine like the stars bright

2011-11-22T06:51:00.001-06:00

When I was a teenager, I had a sticker on my closet door that read I'm not opinionated; I'm just always right. And at that age, I believed that I was. I thought I knew just about everything I needed to know in order to live my life.

I'm no longer that teenager, but I do still struggle with thinking that I know best and that I have all the answers I need to have. Finally, I am beginning to learn that I have close to none of the answers and that while I might have a good idea of what is best, the decisions are so much harder to come to.

As a teenager, I focused more on myself and how each decision impacted my life. I carried that on with me into college and the beginning of our marriage. Because each decision doesn't just impact my life; each decision impacts my husband's life and our future life.

Going to him with questions and with uncertainty is difficult. Because I want to know. I want to explain my reasoning. And I want to hear that I am right. I want that instant gratification, that sigh of relief that comes once you realize everything is going to work out ~~for the best~~the way you want it to.

We've spent quite a bit of time talking recently and dreaming. Wondering where our lives will be in a year and in five years. Trying to understand how to not repeat the same mistakes and how to move forward the way we want to. And it's becoming clear that it's so much harder than I thought it would but also so much more rewarding.

And everything is a decision we are making together. The nights I spend at the gym. The dinners I took. The things we watch on television. Some times the decision is made in his favor; other times the decision is made in my favor. Regardless we are doing our best to make it together and not without one another.

It's a hard thing to go from the mentality of always being right to the mentality of asking what someone else thinks and then actually listening and absorbing their response. And it's a hard thing to go from wanting and needing instant gratification to a place of conversing and thinking and wondering and then waiting for the gratification you hope will come.

At times, I think we actually know what we are doing. At times, I think we are finally where we've been trying to get for the past however long amount of time. At times, the cockiness of my teenage years creeps back into my mind and I think that I know best. Even better than God who so clearly planned for my husband and I to meet and marry.

I am at that point where I could easily give into the cockiness and think that I know best. I am at the point where I want to let go of the plans and give into the wants I have. In the past, I likely would have thrown caution to the wind and given in hoping that things would work themselves back out.

Except I know better. I know better than I did when I was a teenager. I know better than I did when I was newly married. And because I know better, I am making the choice to not let go, not give in, and not throw caution to the wind.

Marriage is important, and it deserves to be treated as such. It's not something to laugh at or to make jokes about. But so many have turned it into just that. I've even turned it into that in the past. There's no such thing as a perfect husband, a perfect wife, or a perfect marriage. Perfect simply does not exist in our world. We're all flawed, and I think realizing that is a step in the right direction. Knowing that you aren't perfect and that you are not always right allows you to open up to another person and have a marriage of compromise.

My husband is so supportive. More so than I probably give him credit for. But isn't that always the way? we struggle to give credit when someone is doing everything they possibly can. For me it is sometimes because I realize how much farther I have to go in order to be as supportive as he is.

The holidays always make me think about marriage and relationships. It's been several years since I celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas with my family. And it's hard. And it has made me more of a scrooge than not. It's tempting to be that Scrooge again this year. To think about all the things I don't have and want. But what if I did the opposite? What if I focused on what I do have instead? What if I say that I have been wrong for acting the way I have? What if I admit that I'm not always right about the holidays?

I'm the only one who can dictate my own actions. I'm the one who lays my head down on my pillow every night. I can have all the support in the world, but it's still up to me.

So I'm making that decision. About the holidays and about compromise and about holding strong to the dreams my husband and I share. I'm further bidding farewell to the girl who thought she was always right and saying hello to the girl who is willing to admit she is wrong. I'm bidding farewell to the Scrooge and saying hello to the opportunities the holiday season brings.

And, finally, I'm working on saying goodbye to the girl of plans. The girl who has to know when everything is going to happen. The girl who doesn't like when things change unexpectedly. And I am saying hello to the girl who welcomes God's plan and purpose - even when it looks different than imagined.

Who are you saying hello and goodbye to?

(title from "this is not the end" by gungor)

pretty words to say

2011-11-21T07:10:00.000-06:00

Sometimes there is no other way to say it than how it has already been said. Sometimes you have to fall so that you can have the strength to get back up. Sometimes you need to cry so that you can have the courage to keep on going. And sometimes all we need is to be reminded that someone went before us.

(title from "turpentine" by brandi carlile)

done looking for the critics (week 3)

2011-11-18T07:09:00.001-06:00

Before I spent a week recovering from strep throat, my work-out schedule was relatively consistent. I averaged 10 hours of exercise a week and spent many days squeezing in two work-outs. I prefer waking up early and getting at least one work-out done. A morning spent on the elliptical and lifting weights also guarantees that I fit strength training into my schedule and helps to determine how the rest of the day will go.

I had hopes of early morning work-outs this week, but a combination of cooler weather, cuddly dogs, and a body that needed rest made those hopes just hopes and not reality.

In the past, I spent Thursday nights at the gym combining cardio, circuit training, and core muscle training. It's one of the nights I take time and go to the gym. While I don't enjoy the great number of other patrons, I love being able to exercise without worrying about time constraints.

I stepped into the gym on Thursday after work. I was a little worried about completing my first second work-out of the day since spending an entire week on the couch, but I pushed past the worry and stepped into the gym.

I'm finding that I love the elliptical. I hope to one day be able to pound out miles on the treadmill, but as it stands now, my knees are a bit too wobbly and sore to do that. So I choose the elliptical. And everytime I climb onto the elliptical, I do it with the intention of finishing three miles. I did just that on Thursday and finished in 40 minutes.

The television was turned to the Travel Channel, and I kept my eyes on two episodes of Man vs. Food while I completed intervals on the elliptical. Some people might enjoy the show. For me, personally, it saddened me. And it caused me to look inward at the relationship I have and used to have with food.

If you aren't familiar with the show, Adam Richman takes on different challenges throughout the show. While I watched, he consumed nine sushi rolls as quickly as possible, attempted to eat five pounds worth of chilli dogs and fries in 20 minutes, and also ate pancakes that were big enough to feed at least ten people. There were other items eaten, but those were the ones that stuck out the most to me.

I kept wondering why. Why would you force yourself to eat so much food in a time constraint? Why would people watch him and cheer for him? Why is there a show like this? Why eat food when you don't really get to enjoy it? I also wondered what. What happened to make someone want to eat so much food and so quickly?

I turned those questions on myself as I huffed and puffed through the three miles. I thought back to all the food I used to eat. I never devoured five pounds worth of chilli dogs and fries, but I used to get every meal from a fast food restaurant. I don't consume nine sushi rolls, but I've been known to finish three all on my own.

My reasons were simple: I didn't love myself. During that time, I didn't see it that way. I saw myself as being busy and stressed and having no other choice. But I always had a choice. I just chose not to take care of myself, not to put myself first, and not the love myself the way I deserved.

The further I travel on this journey the more I love myself. I'm at a point where I now look into the mirror and appreciate what I see. I notice the changes. I might not be at the end of the journey, but I am well on my way.

In the past, I would have looked in the mirror and shrugged. I wore clothes that were nice enough and tried to look presentable. But I never really cared. I figured I was as good as I was going to get. I figured there was nothing else I could do. Trying to improve my health would be too hard. There were too many obstacles. It wasn't worth trying.. I wasn't worth trying.

My body image was not good. My image of myself was not good. I took all the negative things I had ever heard from other people, all the things I wasn't that the media said I should be, and everything I thought of myself, and I listened to it.

Starting this journey, I began the process of shedding all those negative things. I began the process of looking in the mirror and not shrugging. I started to care. And I started to love myself.

Thursday was the first time I looked into the mirror and truly saw the changes. I've noticed them before, but I've always pointed out the flaws and the items that aren't improving. I've always focused on the things that aren't good enough. But when I saw myself in the mirror Thursday, I felt acceptance.

The journey to health begins with a choice. No one else can make a person start to lose weight other than the person who needs to lose weight. After that first choice, every single day is a choice. And I choose to not be a critic of myself.

The more I love myself the easier this journey becomes. There are still temptations. But it's easier to say no. Because no now means I can say yes to other things later. There will be days when I look in the mirror and shrug, but the more I love myself the fewer those days will occur.

Life is short. But it's beautiful. We as people are beautiful too - no matter what the world says. But it is up to us as individuals to love ourselves enough and live out that beauty.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

stand a little taller

2011-11-17T07:23:00.001-06:00

Several weeks ago, I read about the Lady Ball Awards. There was an option to nominate other people or yourself, and I decided to nominate myself for the Steel Ovaries Award. I found out last night that I won the award.

What is the Steel Ovaries Award? The Steel Ovaries Award is in recognition of the most exceptional woman among women. She enriches all womanhood just by showing up. She exhibits aspects of both Brass and Iron Ovaries. The winner of the Steel Ovaries Award is a leader among women. She is proud to be a woman, and proud to be stronger than most men she knows. She has seen adversity and risen above. She endures.

I'm not sure if I'm everything the award boasts, but I do strive to be those things. I strive to endure through whatever comes my way. I want my life, and whatever I am doing in my life, to reflect strength and love and passion.

It's fitting that the winners were announced this week for so many reasons. I needed a reminder of why I am on this journey. They say to get healthy for yourself. And I believe that to be true. I also believe it is a personal decision to share some or any of your journey. Even so, it is nice to be recognized - especially aftr a week of being sick.

Earlier this week, I received an email from my Nana - a woman who embodies the idea of Steel Ovaries in my opinion. I get so much of my strength from her. She reminds me to keep going when I don't want to and believes in me so much more than I could ever believe in myself.

Special people are those who have the ability to share their lives with others. They are honest in word and deed, they are sincere and compassionate, and they always make sure that love is a part of everything. Special people are those who have the ability to give to others and help them with the changes that come their way. They are not afraid of being vulnerable; they believe in their uniqueness and are proud to be who they are. Special people are those who allow themselves the pleasures of being close to others and caring about their happiness. They have come to understand that love is what makes the difference in life. Deanna Beisser

That quote also embodies the sort of person I want to be - the sort of life I want to lead. Our pastor always says that life is short and goes quickly - like a wisp of smoke. And it's true. I want to take the time I have and make it matter.

I love the idea of the Lady Ball Awards because it recognizes strength. They recognize persecerance and womanhood. It's about who a person is - not their status or looks. And it reminds us all, at least to me, how important it is to be true to yourself.

I wouldn't have been able to submit my name for any sort of award without certain people in my life. People like the girls I meet with weekly from our community group. They are more than just a community group. They're true friends - the family you get to choose. People like the women in my family who exude strength - my mom, my Nana, my grandma, my mother-in-law. Those women teach me with every conversation. People like my best friend. She lives far away, but she has been there, in my life, through everything. And I know she will always be there. People like those women who share their stories in books and in blogs. Their words pierce me and inspire me and remind me of why it is I write. All of these women give me strength - whether they know me or not. All of these women make me proud to be a woman. They remind me to endure.

And they give me hope that my story will be able to impact someone else the way they have impacted me.

(title from "what doesn't kill you (stronger)" by kelly clarkson)

it gets better than this

2011-11-15T20:52:00.001-06:00

Leaving the house this morning, I was determined. Determined to have a good day. Determined to eat well. Determined to push myself with an hour work out that would leave me sweaty, stinky, and red-faced.

It started off well with hot green tea and a breakfast sandwich of a fried egg, canadian bacon, and cheese on an english muffin. But it went downhill quickly with an upset stomach and a sudden hit of exhaustion. I hadn't planned well for lunch - meaning I didn't have anything for lunch - which was a by product of being sick for a week and living off of Panera Bread or macaroni and cheese rather than cooking and eating homemade food.

There was a period of time when I strongly considered staying at the office for lunch rather than slipping into capris and a tank top and then heading to the gym. 12:00pm came and went which left me without a class to go to. The minutes ticked by, and at 12:45pm, I made the decision to leave the comfort of my office and head to the gym.

My hope had been that Tuesday would bring two work outs, but I listened to my body and slept in. For a moment, I thought my body was telling me to take Tuesday off entirely, but I realized that it wasn't my body - it was my mind.

A week away from the gym is mentally taxing. It takes approximately twenty-one days to set a habit and a routine, but it only takes a few days, at least for me, to break a habit and routine. Even though the week away from the gym was for my health, it still broke the habit and is making it difficult to get back into the routine.

But I did it. Sweat dripped down my face and soaked the back of my shirt. Three miles on the elliptical in 40 minutes, then 15 minutes spent on the stationary rower, and four minutes of stretching. I huffed and puffed on the elliptical. I focused on the lyrics to the songs on my playlist. I watched the clock on the elliptical and pushed myself to do sprints and intervals. I kept going on the stationary rower even though I was bored after five minutes.

I reminded myself of how far I have come so far. And I reminded myself of just how far I have left to go. It's overwhelming to realize that even though I have lost over 30 pounds I still have roughly 70 pounds left to lose.

Every work out I complete brings me closer to that goal. Every interval I do on the elliptical brings me closer to the goal of being a runner. Every time I push myself I become healthier and more fit.

I do wonder, though, when it will become too easy. When I will become complacent in my work outs. Because it has happened before. And I know it will happen again.

It's one of the reasons I enjoy watching The Biggest Loser. The episodes sometime go on for too long. There's often more product placement than I would like. And I fast forward through parts of it. But the work outs and the transformations continue to inspire me.

I often say "I can't do this" and "I can't do that." I blame the things I can't do on my knees and on my ankles. And I do have to be careful because of those things. But I also have to be careful because it's just me pushing myself on the elliptical and just me selecting which strength training moves to do.

I see where contestants are on The Biggest Loser, and I'm jealous. Jealous of the training and the one-on-one attention. Jealous of the facilities. I have two gym memberships. I have access to different classes, but there's so much I don't have that I wish I did.

So I have a choice. I can be frustrated that I don't have a trainer to count my intervals and increase the speed on the treadmill when they want me to run faster. I can sit on the couch and wish I had made the choice to get healthy earlier and subsequently try out for The Biggest Loser.

Or I can take the amenities available to me and figure out how to push myself.

I choose the latter. Even though figuring out how to push myself terrifies me. Because what happens if I get hurt? What would I do then?

When I finished my work out, my lovely heart rate monitor reminded me of something. I was already pushing myself.

I thought I wasn't. Leaving spin class after 30 minutes on Monday felt like a failure. Lifting weights Monday was hard and made me feel like I had lost all of my strength. But today I realized that the time off from working out made me stronger and healthier - even if it broke the habit and routine.

Do I have to be careful? Yes. Do I have to work out at my own pace and cater things to my knees and ankles? Yes. Does that mean I can't push myself? No.

I don't have the knowledge that a lot of people might. I am not at a place financially where I can spend money on one-on-one training - though I would love that. And I'm not a contestant on The Biggest Loser with a nutritionist and a team of medical professionals to watch all of my injuries.

But I have determination. I have drive. I have a goal. And I have the reminder that this journey matters in my life and in the lives of others.

There is strength in numbers. Getting emails from people asking me questions about heart rate monitors excites me. Seeing replies on twitter or getting new followers makes me throw up my fist in the air out of excitement. Documenting my work outs on Go The Distance and seeing other people's progress reminds me that we can all do this.

I'm still scared. But I'm focusing on the strength I have instead of on the fear I feel. Because focusing on the strength will help me move forward while focusing on fear will keep me in the same place or push me backwards.

And I won't go back. I won't let me habit turn back into a sedentary lifestyle. I'm going to take every setback, including being sick, and use it to propel me forward.

(title from "fearless" by taylor swift)

how hard it is to make it look so easy

2011-11-15T06:29:00.000-06:00

Following a week of being sick, I planned on getting out of bed by 5:00am and heading straight to the gym. I wanted my Monday to start off with thirty minutes on the elliptical and thirty minutes of strength training. But after a restless night's sleep, I chose to change the alarm for 6:25am and cuddle with our two dogs.

Spending my lunch hour at the gym had always been my plan for Monday. I debated getting onto the elliptical then since I missed my chance that morning, but spin class called out to me. And I answered.

I finished thirty minutes of spin class and burned over 300 calories. And then I dismounted and headed for the weights. While I wanted to last the entire hour of spin class, I couldn't do it. I felt too weak, and my heart rate was staying too high - making it quite difficult to breathe.

My hope had been that I would walk back into the gym and be able to do all the things I did before getting sick. But a week away from the gym, a week spent resting on the couch and eating too much frozen yogurt, made that hope fail.

I never thought that a week could so drastically change me, but it did.

I appreciate the strength I have gained so much more now. While I was defeated for a moment, I am now thankful for the time I have spent at the gym so far. And I'm excited to regain my old strength and increase it now that I'm on antibiotics and getting over being so sick it was hard to move.

This is where patience comes in handy. I need to wait and allow things to take their time. I need to accept that things will not always be exactly how I want them to be. But when you are forced to be patient, you tend to learn a lot more. At least that's how it is for me.

I may not have conquered two work outs today, but I left the office and headed straight to the gym at lunch. I may not have made the whole one hour spin class, but I listened to my body and did what was best for me. I may not have been able to lift as much weight, but I still lifted.

After burning over 500 calories, and watching what I ate throughout the day, I enjoyed Mexican food and conversation with my husband and two friends. Instead of ignoring the chips and queso, I enjoyed it but did not ask for more queso. Instead of eating a salad, I stayed with my tried and true chicken quesadillas. It's been months since I ate real Mexican food, and while it probably negated my work out for the day, I walked out of the restaurant with more patience and more gratitude for the fact that I got back into the gym after seven days of being sedentary.

I'm learning just how much of a say I have in my own life. Things will always happen. There will always be responsibilities that need to be met. But it's up to me to decide how to respond to those things that happen. It's up to me to have the right attitude while meeting responsibilities. Just like it was up to me to make it to the gym at least once on Monday.

Just like it will be up to me to make it to the gym at least once today and tomorrow and the next day.

(title from "easy" by rascal flatts & natasha bedingfield)

what i've been chasing

2011-11-13T16:05:00.001-06:00

Sundays are often one of two things. One - a chance to rest and recover from the weekend. Two - a chance to catch up and ready for the upcoming week. After a week of trying to recover from being sick, today has been more of a chance to catch up and ready for the upcoming week. But it has also been so much more than that.

I was stuck in a tailspin of emotions Saturday afternoon. Every few weeks, I seem to find the need to worry about something. My future. What I want to be when I grow up. Our house. Finances. The list goes on and includes items that, really, aren't as important as I make them out to be. But I give into the idea that I need to have everything figured out and that everything needs to happen according to my plan.

This is a common theme in my life. It's something I've struggled with for about as long I can remember. I've sought the next step in my life and how to go about getting to the next step.

I know this is something I need to let go. Though I think I am in control of all these things, the truth is that I am not. And by trying to hold tightly onto the control I don't have, I miss out on many things that are more important.

Church this morning touched on this for me. I felt it first during worship. Having just come from a brunch with our community group, my mind was swimming with thoughts of where God is leading me and how all the places I feel Him leading me make absolutely no sense. They all involve steps that others might question like going back to school and depending on student loans or stepping back into a position I never thought I would again want to. While I considered all of this, and prayed for guidance on where to go, I was reminded of the fact that my life is not necessarily meant to make sense to other people. It's supposed to be different. I'm supposed to stand out from the crowd and live my life in a way that make other people wonder what is so different.

And I don't.

I give into my needs and my wants more than I should. I focus on my success compared with someone else's. I wonder why my life can't look the way I want it to - the way I thought it would. During these moments of clarity, I can see that God is guiding me towards the plan He has for me.

And I want those things He has planned for me. But I want them now - in my timing - and not necessarily when He has them timed.

That's what happened Saturday night. A mess of emotions over our finances and our house and how nothing seems to be getting better in the way of having a large amount of money in our bank account. But if we did have all those things, what would I lack? The answer is simple: a chance to step out in faith and live my life in a way that might seem weird to others. A chance to lay it all out on the line and trust that God knows oh so much better than I do.

It's a season of soul searching. I am sure it will also be a season of waiting and of being patient even though I want to be nothing but impatient. And it is a season of listening to see where my heart lies and what my passions are.

All of this while I am working towards my goal of 100 pounds lost.

I made that goal for myself. For reasons of health and reasons of selfishness. But I am starting to see that this goal is a goal God has had in mind for several years. Because it's now that I am working towards something, sticking with something and not giving up, that I'm really open to hearing what His heart is for my life.

There's a part of me (a HUGE part) that wants this goal of 100 pounds to come quickly. I want to lose it in six months as they do on The Biggest Loser. I want to step onto the scale and hear clapping from people at the five or seven pounds I lost in one week.

But I know it needs to take time. I need the time to say goodbye to those pounds and time to say goodbye to all of those reasons I got to a point where I needed to lose 100 pounds. I need the time to learn how to listen to my body and also how to listen to God. Because, for me at least, those things are intertwined.

The sermon today touched on rescue and redemption. There was talk of caring for the fatherless and the oppressed. Talk of stepping into someone else's brokenness and of staying with me - and of coming back. It pricked at my heart in such a huge way. Talk of foster care and loving those who need it always does.

Because that's where my heart rests. It's the one thing I want to be connected to for the rest of my life. It's a dream my husband and I share - this dream to care for children who don't have anyone to love them in the case of adoption and this dream to care for families who are broken and need help being put together in the case of foster care.

So often I forget this. I force myself to. I push it as far out of my mind as I can because it seems like we will never attain it. There is so much against us that it seems like an impossible dream - like it is something I will always have to stand on the sidelines for.

But I was reminded today, as we drove in the car and discussed the sermon, that God always makes a way. We just need to remember His promises. So that's what I am doing for the rest of this Sunday.

Preparing for the week. Cleaning the house. And resting on His promises and the fact that He will always come through - in His time.

(title from "down" by jason walker)

never run away

2011-11-10T14:00:00.001-06:00

I started this week feeling weak. The weather switched over the weekend, and the temperatures fell for the second time this fall season. And just as it had the first time, it left me with a stuffy and runny nose.

I made the decision to rest. While I wanted to spend my Monday at the gym, I chose to spend it at home and also reading for lunch. I was determined to feel better on Tuesday and make it to the gym, but halfway through the work week, I felt worse and ended up leaving early so that I could spend the rest of the day and evening on the couch.

Wednesday I went to work. I felt less nauseus than I had Tuesday, but my throat started burning. I left the office early again and headed to the doctor instead of straight to the couch. There was blood work, a test for the flu, and a strep test. A little over an hour after arriving, I had my diagnosis (strep throat) and a prescription (penicillin).

I joked with the doctor that growing up I always had strep throat over Thanksgiving or Christmas. And I had. But it had been years since I had strep throat and even more years since I was truly sick on the holidays.

I like to think that my body told me I was sick. My venture home on Tuesday had nothing to do with a sore throat just like my call to the doctor had nothing to do with a sore throat. It was an upset stomach and hurting stomach that left me feeling like I couldn't move. But the diagnosis had nothing to do with my stomach.

There was a small part of me that was angry and frustrated with feeling sick. I went a whole week without stepping foot into the gym. And while I kept track of everything I ate, I didn't do the best at making healthy choices. My choices, instead, were all about comfort and ease.

I ate a lot of Panera Bread, noodles and sauce, and then chicken noodle soup out of a can. I drank water, apple cider, and lots of Sprite. I also consumed more vanilla frozen yogurt in the past several days than I had in the past month. I rested on the couch and watched hours of The Biggest Loser and Felicity from Netflix. I considered writing and reading, but I was too exhausted to do either.

Being home was what I wanted. My office closes for Veteran's Day, so I took it one step further and also asked off for the Thursday before. I had plans of hanging curtains and cleaning baseboards. I was determined to dust windows and vacuum floors. I was even excited to venture into the world of deep cleaning.

After a Thursday on the couch, I hoped I would be up for something on Friday, but it didn't happen. I had high hopes for this beautiful Saturday also, but I think those hopes might just be hopes and not turn into reality.

Every now and then, I need to slow down. I need to spend time doing nothing. But a whole week of slowing down and doing nothing is a bit too much for me.

In the past, this sort of a week would have curtailed my hopes of getting healthy. No matter how far I would have come, I still would have quit. Because taking a week off makes it difficult to get back into the swing of workouts and planning meals.

I know that this time, though, a week a of sickness will not curtail my hopes. It won't stop my efforts or keep me from succeeding.

There are a lot of things I am discontent with in my life. A lot of things that I feel just aren't right. It's not to say that I'm not thankful for much of my life, because I am, but there are certain situations that have remained the same for several years that I feel like should be different. But they aren't. I'm trying to accept that while still working towards bettering my life.

It's like being sick. You take what you have and do with it what you can. That's one of the reasons I watched so many episodes of The Biggest Loser. If I couldn't work out, I wanted to continue to be inspired by the transformation working out can be. I wanted to do everything I could to stop the quitting that would have taken place in the past.

My health is something that is in my control. Getting sick is frustrating and a setback. But it doesn't control my journey. And so I won't let anything keep me from becoming the best me I can be.

Maybe along the way I'll see that other things are also in my control. And maybe I'll be able to document my journey to better those things too.

For now, I'm going to clean some, write some, and rest some more. The four-day weekend wasn't what I planned for, but maybe, in His funny way, God gave me what I needed.

(title from "the reckoning" by needtobreathe)

plant your hope with good seeds

2011-11-07T10:43:00.000-06:00

This weekend was a combination of good and bad, happy and sad. I have so many questions and thoughts, hopes and dreams, desires and needs, prayers floating in my head. I feel like I have come so far. And then I am daunted by how far I have to go.

It's been over 6 months since I took the first step towards the new me. 6 months of running through past hurts and lies. 6 months of turning to other people instead of to food or into myself. 6 months of opening myself up to the world and learning how to let go.

Sometimes I think "I've got this" and "Nothing can stop me." Other times I still want to crawl back under the covers and stay hidden in my house.

I don't know if I'll ever not feel like hiding at least some of the time. I don't know if anyone ever feels like they can face every single day without fear. But if someone does, I'd really like to know how and to tap into that strength.

But no matter how I feel, I know that I have come so far already. Yes there are many more months to go. And yes, I hope to lose another 69.2 pounds. Yes, I still have a lot of dreams to chase. And more dreams to dream.

I'm scared of the dreams I have. Of the knocking I feel on my heart to tell evey ounce of my story. To share all of the things that brought me here. To actually be a writer and finish an entire.

And I'll probably fall and scrape my knees and bloody my hands (again and again), but I will get up every time and keep going. And I'll write the book - no matter how scared I am.

Saturday night.

Monday morning.

After all, I've already lost 29.8 pounds. If I can do that, I am pretty sure I can do just about anything else.

(title from "thistles & weeds" by mumford and sons)

done looking for the critics (week 2)

2011-11-04T08:47:00.000-05:00

Every so often, in the midst of the busyness and the feelings of being not good enough, there is clarity. It might just be for one moment. Or it may be for several moments. And when it happens, when the clouds part and the fog disappears, it is impossible not to notice.

I've had moments of clarity before. Moments of truthful words being spoken. Moments of realizing and grasping how important life is as well as how God is working through all things and using all things to tell a story with my life.

Those moments do not last forever. Eventually the clarity disappears, and we are once again in murky waters. That's why it is so important to write the moments down. To remember the details. Because then we can return to those moments, through our memories, and realize once again that God is working through all things.

For months, I prayed for friendships. College brought close friends, but graduation and marriage and people moving across the country separated us all physically. There were so many times when I felt lonely. Comfort wasn't really an option though my husband did everything he could to bring me whatever comfort he could find. I got to a point where I decided I was not going to have close friends. Where I decided that it would just be me.

I don't remember the last time I prayed for close friendships. But this week I got hit with the realization of answered prayers in the form of friendships. And I understood what our pastor so often talks about. I felt like I was a part of a community, and I've felt lighter and happier and more content and more at peace than I have in months.

Nothing has really changed. Those friendships have been there for quite some time. But I refused to open myself up to them for a lengthy period of time. I pushed away. I built up my walls higher and higher. Sometime between pushing and building, those walls came crumbling down. And for the first time, I don't miss them.

This week I've learned and thought a lot about balance. I took advice and rested more than usual. And in just five days, I've lost over three pounds according to the scale. As excited as I am about the loss on the scale, I am much more excited about the peace I feel. I thought I needed weight loss, but really I needed perspective gained and a moment of clarity.

With this moment of clarity, there is still a question. And that question is where do I go from here? The answer is I am still not sure.

I used to think that there needed to be an answer for every question. I felt like I needed to have it all figured out. Often times, I still feel like I need to have it figured out because it seems like everyone else has it all figured out.

This moment of clarity showed me that no one has it all figured out. That's why we need each other. We learn from one another. Everyone is blessed with a talent and with knowledge. And that talent and knowledge is meant to be shared with other people.

Every person on this earth is born with a purpose. I strongly believe that. Life, then, is the time we spend on earth finding our purpose. Some people's purposes seem bigger than others. But there is no such thing as a bigger purpose than another person. Because we are all important and loved and created.

I struggle with this. I want my purpose to be big and in shining lights. I want to see the impact I have on other lives. And I spend too much time wanting those things and too little time seeing what my life is right now.

That's my goal for this next week. I want balance. And to be present in my current life. I want my purpose to be whatever it is supposed to be. And I want to help others find their purpose.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

so hard to believe it

2011-11-03T09:20:00.000-05:00

I started Monday morning off by stepping onto the scale at the prompting of my heart rate monitor.

I stepped onto the scale a few times over the weekend and had an idea of what the number would be, but I was hopeful that a decent night's sleep would lower the number. It took just a few seconds for those hopes to be dashed.

I've said it before (and will continue to say it for the rest of time). This journey is about so much more than weight loss. But knowing that the journey is about more than weight loss does not remove the sting of watching that number stay the same.

It's a balance. A balance I am still seeking to find. A balance I will likely continue to search for.

Balance is something I struggle with in every aspect of my life. I want so badly to give all of myself to every aspect of my life, but unfortunately, it is not possible to give all of myself to every aspect of life. And so something always falls to the wayside.

I'm not sure how to find the balance right now. Or if I can even find the balance. I've tried to locate balance in the past and strategically place myself somewhere that will allow me to handle every role in my life. But I have always failed.

Life takes over so often. And different things take priority. As life takes over and those different things take priority, balance is often the first thing to go.

When I worked for the state, I gave everything to my job and to the families I worked with. Most weeks involved at least three nights of working past 7:00pm and clocking at least 45 hours. I spent over 50% of my work week driving in a car. Every visit I did lasted at least an hour because every child deserved my full attention. By the time I arrived home, I had nothing left to give.

Then, to make up for those almost two years of focusing just on my job, I tried to focus on church and on my husband. There was no real time left for me to focus on myself, and eventually, I found myself in a place where I was unhealthy and unfit and unmotivated.

I'm at a place right now where most of my time is spent in the gym. I also spend a lot of time grocery shopping and meal planning. When I can, I read about weight loss or watch The Biggest Loser for inspiration. In one week of exercise, I burned over 4000 calories, and yet I lost no weight.

It was on Monday that my trainer said I might be overtraining. And it was on Monday that he suggested I zig-zag my calories (1700 calories one day, 1400 calories two days, 2200 calories one day). He said I was doing all of the right things, but that my body was, essentially, going into starvation mode due to my consuming less calories and burning so many.

To be honest, I wanted to hear nothing that he said. I wanted to continue to push myself past the pain and past the exhaustion. But something clicked on Tuesday night, and I realized that he was right.

I've lost balance. My dedication to this journey has been so strong and so consuming that I have not allowed my body any time to rest. I've watched what I ate so closely on every day of the week, and my body decided it wasn't sure what to do with the exercise and restriction of calories.

Taking my trainer's advice, and also encouraging words from friends, I decided to rest this week. Rather than spend two plus hours at the gym every day, I committed to spending at least 45 minutes a day in the gym. If I felt up to more, then I would do more, but if I didn't, I would spend time at home resting.

In a lot of ways, the week has been hard. I feel like I am slacking or failing by not spending at least two hours in the gym every day. But in other ways, this week has been exactly what I needed. My body aches, especially my knees, and I'm sleeping a lot more than I normally do. It seems like I am catching up on all the rest I did not allow myself for several weeks.

And it's working. The rest and the zig-sag of calories. The advice the trainer gave me and encouragement of friends. All of it is working.

I stepped on the scale this morning and saw a 2.2 pound drop. Not even a week of this attempt at balance has passed, and I've lost over 2 pounds. I'm officially at my lowest weight and have finally surpassed the 25 pounds lost mark.

It took me just over six months, but I've lost 27.2 pounds. My BMI has gone from 38.7 to 34.7.

Now that I have gotten closer to finding balance in my life, I need to figure out how to keep the balance. My time needs to be spent both in the gym and in the grocery store, with my husband, at home and out with friends, and focused on work. Knowing that is one thing, but doing it is something else entirely.

I think there will be a lot of soul searching. A lot of asking the hard questions of myself. A lot of answering those questions. A lot of moving on from those things that, at one point, made me feel like it had to be all or nothing. A lot of moving on from those things that, at one point, made me feel like I wasn't good enough to have everything I wanted.

And as I find that balance, I sincerely hope it will give me more time. More time with my husband. More time to enjoy the blessings God continues to give me. More time to write. More time to dream and then learn how to make those dreams a reality. More time to focus on myself. More time to focus on others and remind them that they, too, are worth the balance.
(title from "the sun will rise" by kelly clarkson)

done looking for the critics (week 1)

2011-10-28T14:19:00.000-05:00

I've been considering this blog a lot recently. I've thought about what I want it to say. Not just in words but in a feeling. I've thought about what I want from it as the creator and writer, as the person living this day to day life. I've also thought about what I want it to be for everyone who stumbles across it and for those who follow it whether through blogger, facebook, or twitter. I've also thought about what I want it to reflect.

There's not one category I can place this blog into. It's about everything. My journey to lose 100 pounds and also my faith. There's been some talk of my writing also. And sometimes I mention my marriage and how we met and fell in love.

I want to continue to share all of these aspects. I want to tell my stories even if no one else reads or identifies with them because they are my stories. And any story that belongs to you deserves to be told. I want to continue with honesty because I think everyone needs to know they are never alone, and I firmly believe the world needs more honesty and vulnerability because that is how we, as people, connect.

And I want this to be a place of inspiration. For myself and for you. ~~Sometimes~~Too often, I struggle with finding the good in any and all situation. Because it is always there. Even if it is buried under a lot of other things, it is there. I know that because I know God is good and that He is always present. But I know it is hard to find in the midst of sickness and in money worries and in everything else that plagues us on this eart.

I think it's especially hard to find the good in the midst of losing weight and gaining health. Because so much of this is dependent on the scale and what the scale says in a number as well as what the scale says about us as people.

I often remind myself and friends that the scale does not dictate who I am or who they are. But I have a hard time remembering that in those moments when I step on and see that the number has not dropped at all. I struggle with that when I try on a size smaller of clothes expecting it to fit only to find that my butt is still too big to squeeze into it. Sometime I struggle with it when I hug my husband and realize again that he is leaner
than I am and wonder if I can ever be as healthy and fit as I want to be.

If I focus only on the scale and on clothes for approval and reminders that I am doing well, I will fail. Because the scale and clothes do not dictate how healthy I am or how I feel. They don't dictate hor healthy you are either. They can be tools if used properly, but they are not the end all and be all of health.

So what is?

For me, it's how hard I am pushing myself. It's seeing how far I have come from just 6 months ago. It's realizing that I can do more than I ever have. It's focusing on those things. It's also letting go of all my old behaviors and tapping into new ones. It's learning (and sticking to) what works for me in the way of a healthy lifestyle.

I want to document those things. Hopefully on a weekly basis. This will be the first week. I don't know what it will look like on a week-to-week basis. It might just be a picture dump. Or maybe a recipe. I might even do a pinterest dump. But whatever it is, it will be honest and it will reflect both what I am learning and struggling with as well as my successes and any failures I might have had.

This week has been up and down. I struggled with cold and allergies. I got not-so-great news from the doctor. As rough as parts of it were, I persevered. I never gave up; I just tried harder.

I focused on what I ate and read the ingredients list. I tracked every single calorie and ounce of water I drank. I started to cut out processed foods and plan what I would eat before arriving at restaurants.

Between Monday and Friday, I burned over 3300 calories in 6 hours and 17 minutes. I spent more time with my heart rate about 136 than I ever have before.

I was told that both my fitness and max performance were improving on more than one occassion which makes me more excited to hit the gym.

I'm proud of myself for where I am. I feel more committed to my health and wellness. I feel like I can push myself more and more each day. I'm no longer even the tiniest bit afraid of failing. Instead, I am excited.

I celebrated six-months of this journey on Wednesday. And it was hard. I was hard on myself. I felt like a failure for having only lost 25 pounds and felt like I should have been at the 50 pound mark by then. I no longer feel this way because I know that I have gained so much in the past 6 months, and what I have gained definitely outweighs the need to lose 50 pounds in six months versus 25 pounds in six months.

The next six month will have their own set of challenges. But I'm not worried because I am going to focus on each day and each week, and eventually it will work out in such a way that I can look back at the next six months and see nothing but success.

Here's to this week and to next week. Here's to not focusing on just the scale but seeing health for what is - an everything in life matters just as equally journey.

I wish every overweight person could step into the body of a fit person for one week, maybe just one day. I think it would be the catalyst for a new resolve. If you could "feel" the end, you would stay the course. Abby Rike, "Working It Out"

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

i'm right here

2011-10-27T06:30:00.000-05:00

Wednesday was my six-month anniversary.

Six months ago, after months of feeling sick and being in constant pain, I learned my liver enzymes were slightly elevated and that I had non-alcoholic fatty liver disease. It wasn't the answer I expected, and other than diet, there was no other information given to me about why my enzymes were elevated. The doctor didn't really know why, and there was no real way of finding out other than having a biopsy. Instead, he decided I should come in once every six months.

So I went back to the doctor on Wednesday.

I was ready. I had lost 25 pounds in six months. The number wasn't as high as I wanted. But I was excited to step onto the scale in the doctor's office and then talk with him about how I had lost 25 pounds.

My first experience with this doctor wasn't the best, but Wednesday made up for the first experience. He told me I was doing great - that I was losing the weight the best way possible. He reminded me that it was better to lose the weight slowly - by diet and exercise - because I was much more likely to keep it off.

I left the doctor's office excited about my weight loss and with a bruised right elbow due to having blood drawn for another test on my liver enzymes. Both the doctor and I expected the levels to be lower. In fact, he even said we would test the enzymes just to see how much they had gone down, and he said he would then have his office call me with the results.

Six hours later, I got the call. My liver enzymes were higher now than they had been six months ago. The doctor wasn't concerned. I wasn't being prescribed any medication. But I felt the weight settle onto me.

I had a choice. I could give into the feelings that nothing I was doing enough. I could give into the thought that counting calories, sweating at the gym, and not eating fast food was no longer worth it. I could see this journey in two ways: the lack of weight lost on the scale and the liver enzymes being elevated. Or I could show everyone wrong and remind my body that no matter what it threw at me I was going to beat this thing and be healthy.

I took about 15 minutes to be upset. And angry. Frustrated. Sad. Worried. And confused. Then, I chose to show everyone wrong and remind my body that I was in control.

I had started the day off with a 30-minute work out on the stationary bicycle and burned 233 calories before even stepping foot into the doctor's office. When I stepped back into the gym that afternoon, I was determined to burn at least 600 calories.

Ninety minutes later, I walked out of the gym having burned 857 calories. Not only that, I walked out of the gym with a new outlook. As much as I loved that I burned 1090 calories for the day, I loved the outlook even more.

When I work out, I need to have music that pushes me and inspires me. Some days I listen to nothing but *N Sync and music by *N Sync members. Other days, I listen to a mix of Britney Spears and Pink. Today, I listened to what used to be my circuit training playlist. Fifteen minutes into my 40 minute elliptical work out, an old song came on. A song that not too many people know called Girl From The Gutter by Kina.

As the words came through my earbuds, I increased my speed and focused my attention on the wall in front of me. Memories of people who had hurt me, things people had said, things I had told myself I could never do rushed through my head. I pushed myself faster and moved my hips and my arms even more. When the song ended, I hit the back button and started it over again.

I still have work to do. I think I will always have some work to do. But I know that I have less work to do now than I did last week.

I'm letting go of the things that have held me back. The fears I have. The worries that sometimes consume me. The reasons I've eaten too much at some points in my life and too little at other times. The excuses I have made and the things I have said I could never do.

Because I can do this. I can lose this weight and keep it off. I can make good choices and correct the damage that has been done to my body. And I will do all of it.

Every day is a choice. A choice on what to eat and how much to eat. A choice to go to the gym and how hard to push myself. A choice to drink water and how much of it to drink. A choice to put myself and my journey first.

Wednesday I made the right choices. And I made a choice not to give up. I'll make the same choice today, tomorrow, the next day, and the next day.

Because I am going to do this. No matter what.

(title from "girl from the gutter" by kina)

pause in life's pleasures

2011-10-24T10:57:00.000-05:00

Several weeks ago, I started to gain back a few pounds. It was a slow gain. So slow that at first I didn't realize it was truly a gain. I thought it was water weight. And maybe it was - at first.

Eventually, I realized it wasn't just water weight. It was real weight. Weight that I gained due to making bad choices and also not pushing myself with exercise. I wanted to believe that it would just fall off, but it didn't. It hung on, and eventually a few pounds turned into five pounds.

I remained quiet about the weight gain for the most part. I didn't want to talk about it or really admit to it. And I wasn't sure how to go about talking about all of the reasons for the weight gain. Because there is always a reason for weight gain; it doesn't just happen - just like weight loss doesn't just happen.

Eventually, I lost a few pounds, but I stayed at the same weight for several weeks. Nothing seemed to be working. And the more nothing work, the more I focused on the weight I couldn't lose. It seemed like a neverending battle.

But the battle is neverending. At some point, it stops. The outcome is, then, either a win or a loss.

Today it was a win. A win in the way of a loss. A three pound loss to be exact. And with that three pound loss, I am officially at my lowest weight since beginning my journey. Excited is an understatement. Even ecstatic is an understatement.

I worked hard for the loss. I counted calories for seven days straight. I thought about everything I ate and made choices that several weeks ago I would have struggled to make - like not having dessert after dinner and also not filling up my bowl or plate a second time.

I realized, though, that the loss isn't because of only the things I did. The loss is because of the support system I have - both in the "real world" and through the interconnected blog world. While the decisions are mine to make, and in many ways weight loss will always be a solo journey, the loss would not have been possible without support. And while I have some restraint, I don't think I have enough restraint or self-control to actually lose weight without anyone else cheering me on.

I need reminders that only other people can give me. Reminders that I need to look at more than just the number on the scale. Reminders that the hard work is not going unnoticed. Reminders that even on the hardest days this is worth it.

And then there are the other reminders. Reminders that don't come from one specific person but reminders that come from God and show me just how loved I am even when I feel the most unloveable. Reminders that open up a new world of dreams. Reminders that awaken parts of my heart that were hardened. Reminders to take in a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. Reminders that it's okay to not be perfect and to not be able to balance everything in one hand.

Reminders that it's okay to put myself first during this season in my life.

Weight gain, for me at least, usually happens as a response to another event. Whether it be an event I was a part of or something someone did to me or just how I feel. I generally turn to (or used to turn to) food. Ice cream. French fries. Pizza. All those foods that aren't exactly healthy.

But the event can also be something I am not even aware of. That's what happened before I said no more in April and began this journey.

I spent almost two years of my life dedicating every waking, and sleeping moment, to other people. To families who were broken. To children who needed a constant. To parents who didn't know where else to turn. To co-workers who were the only ones who understood. Most of those years were spent in the car - traveling the state of Oklahoma and passing through a McDonald's for a quick lunch and a diet coke. And then by the time I got home, I was too tired to cook, and so we either ate out or I threw something frozen into a skillet or a pan or the microwave. And the pounds piled on.

I don't blame the weight gain on the job. People joke that in a job like that you either take up smoking or drinking. I took up neither, but I fell back on the familiar. I could have stopped it. I could have committed to spending time in the gym and packing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch. But I didn't. I just let it happen.

I let it happen because I focused every ounce of my energy on other people. And I helped a lot of people. I think. But I didn't help myself, and that was one of the biggest hinderances.

Now I am focusing on myself. I am doing everything I can to help myself. And it is such a hard thing for me to do because I feel guilty for placing myself above everyone else. I feel like I should be doing more for other people and less for myself. Like I am wasting my time by not being there and volunteering and filling my plate with so many other things.

But I deserve it. I deserve this chance to be healthy and to fully move on from those things that I used to turn to. I deserve to turn the 26 pounds lost so far into 100 pounds lost total.

We all deserve the chance to take care of ourselves.

So what do I do during this time? When I feel guilty for placing myself first, when I feel like I am not doing enough for other people, how do I continue to push myself? I turn to others. I remind myself that I have cheerleaders, and I do what is so hard - I let them in on my feelings.

But what I am finding, more and more, is that people are receptive. People care. People reach back to you when you reach out to them.

And then there's God. God who speaks through a pastor on Sunday morning and stirs up a dream that is too big for me to accomplish on my own. God who shows me that this time in my life right now will help me to get to that dream. God who reminds me that my efforts are not wasted, and God who shows me that by putting myself first I can eventually help others.

God who celebrated my three pound loss and provided me with others to celebrate with.

(title from "hard times" by eastmountainsouth)

a story to tell

2011-10-19T22:20:00.000-05:00

From the start, I knew this would be a journey. I knew there would be ups and downs. I figured there would be moments of weight loss and moments of no weight loss. And I knew that I would have to change my path.

Just like any journey, I had to be ready when I started. Most people don't wake up one morning, decide to travel to Europe and then jump on a plane that day. When there is a trip to Europe, there is planning. Lots of planning. I know; I've done the planning.

And just like any journey, I have had to be flexible. Not everything goes according to plan when traveling. There are missed connections and bus routes that are almost impossible to understand. If you travel with a group, there might be negative relationships. It's up to you to decide whether or not to be flexible. And not being flexible can ruin the entire journey.

With a journey, you have to be ready to push yourself into trying new things - into doing things you never thought you would. When traveling, this can mean trying new foods like the time I tried donkey meat in China. With weight loss, it can mean trying a new class or it could be actually running.

I pushed myself tonight. It wasn't much by a lot of standards, but for me, it was a lot. I didn't give up even though I wanted to. I pushed through the 20-minute mark on the elliptical - the one where I usually decide I am tired and move onto the next thing. I ran right past the 1-mile mark on the elliptical - the one where I decide I've done enough.

I spent over 40 minutes on the elliptical. I ran over three miles. And then I lifted weights.

I could have gone longer on the elliptical. I could have lifted more weights. It was the biggest breakthrough I've had. It showed me just how strong I really am. It reminded me that I have so much farther to go, and it made me so excited for the rest of the journey.

I loved Europe. It was one of the best experiences of my life. As was my time in China. And this weight loss journey I am on? It's just as good.

(title from "gotta figure it out" by erin mccarley)

the great unknown

2011-10-18T14:34:00.000-05:00

Last night, I got home from work at 5:45pm. I started boiling a pot of water and heated up the spaghetti sauce and meatless meatballs. Fifteen minutes later, we sat down at the kitchen table for a dinner of whole wheat cappelini, garden vegetable spaghetti sauce, and meatless meatballs. My husband also made some garlic cheese bread for himself.

With dinner consumed, I settled onto the couch for the rest of the night and alternated between reading Master Your Metabolism and pretending not to watch the season premiere of The Walking Dead. I was exhausted. And I hurt.

I skipped Sunday's work out and thought I would be back to normal by Monday morning, but when my alarm went off Monday, I found it extremely difficult to get out of bed and make it to the gym. My calves were screaming, and my vision was blurrier than normal. But I went, and I finished a 30-minute circuit work-out. I was frustrated with my heart rate remaining below 136 for most of the work out, but I knew just finishing the work out meant something given that it was so hard to get there.

Monday afternoon, I spent my lunch hour swimming laps at the pool and completed 48 laps. Last week, I divided the laps and spent only 20 laps swimming while 22 laps were spent either just kicking or just pulling. This week, 40 of the 48 laps were either freestyle, breast stroke, or back stroke and the other 8 laps were just kicking.

Somewhere between climbing out of the pool and driving home at 5:00pm, my back started to hurt and to spasm. I considered taking the easy way out and stopping somewhere for dinner. Anything sounded good. Subway. Wendy's. McDonald's. Whataburger. I strongly considered taking the easy way out and doing anything but cooking.

Food impacts everything. How I feel. What I weigh. How I work out. My bank account. And the impact food has on everything is the reason I chose to head home, throw together a healthy dinner of spaghetti and then rest on the couch.

I also considered having a glass of wine (or two) with dinner or even after dinner, but I made a commitment to myself that I was going to drink only water this week. And I am sticking with it no matter what.

These little decisions are what will determine how quickly I arrive at my main goal. So much of the time I focus on the big picture and the end result. What my new wardrobe will be like. Running a marathon (I hope). And while it is good to have goals and to focus on those goals, I need to concentrate more on the little steps I need to take in order to get there.

I had a decision to make this morning. Once again, it was a decision that centered around food. When my alarm went off at 5:00am, I could have jumped out of bed and raced to the gym. There would have been cardio and weights followed by stretching, and then I would have raced back home to jump in the shower. I would have tossed eggs onto a pan and fried them on the stov, and I would have packed my lunch for the day. There would have been no thought to dinner, and we likely would have picked someone quick and relatively cheap to eat at for dinner.

But I know food is important. Possibly more important than exercise. I don't want that to be the truth, but it is. So I made the choice to stay in bed a little longer and then get up and spend the morning preparing three-bean turkey chilli. This will make tonight the third night in a row that I will have cooked dinner.

I wish I could eat whatever I wanted, work out 15-20 hours a week, and continue to lose weight. But I've tried that, and it doesn't work. It doesn't even work if I work out more than 20 hours a week and kind of pay attention to what I fuel my body with. So I am making food a priority. And enjoying searching pinterest for new recipes.

Baked Chicken, sauteed cauliflower, and butternut squash. Spaghetti. Turkey and 3-Bean Chilli.

And by cooking dinner most nights, I ensure that I have lunch the next day. I'm depending less and less on pre-packaged frozen dinners. I'm learning how to listen to my body and how to portion food correctly. I still have a ways to go, but I'm getting there. And I know reading books about diet and exercise will help to enrich my knowledge and empower me to continue to make better choices.

So far, my favorite part of Master Your Metabolism is how open Jillian is about her own struggles. With binge eating. With diet coke. With everything. It's reminded me that it is all about the choices we make, and it's reminded me that no one is perfect when it comes to health - not even one of the most famous trainers.

I'm open with my own struggles because I don't know how else to be. Losing weight is not an easy task. Nothing worthwhile is an easy task. So often, though, other people make it look easy, and suddenly you are looking at everyone around you and wondering why life has to be so difficult for you when it doesn't seem to be difficult for anyone else. So having someone be open about their own struggles speaks to me more than anything. It makes me want to be healthy; it helps me to make the choices that are right for mybody.

And the fact that I've lost two pounds already this week helps too.

(title from "keep your eyes open" by needtobreathe)

the time is right

2011-10-17T07:00:00.000-05:00

I wanted to quit Thursday. I blamed it on the fact that there was a different instructor for zumba and on the fact that I couldn't quite get into the zone on the rowing machine or on the bicycle. But placing blame on anything other than myself is futile. It's up to me to make a workout into what I need and want it to be.

Still, I was beyond discouraged. I had done so well sticking to my exercise goals. I didn't want to let go of those goals. But what I quickly learned was that it was my body telling me it needed something other than what I fed it.

The morning started with McDonald's Egg McMuffin and a non-fat caramel mocha. It was the second morning in a row for to me to eat and drink those calories for breakfast. I blamed it on the fact that we were out of eggs at our house and said I was out of time. But it was my choice to wait in the drive-thru and pay for breakfast rather than eating greek yogurt for breakfast and not for a mid-day snack.

I felt like my eating had been under control. I felt like I was making better choices. And I was. Only my better choices were better than what I had made months ago when I might have splurged on two Egg McMuffins.

There's a quote by Jillian Michaels that says "The past doesn't define you, your present does. It's okay to create a vision of the future because it affects your behavior in the "now," but don't dwell on past mistakes. Learn from them and focus those lessons in the moment. That’s where change can really happen."

While I've learned to let go of the past, I am still holding onto the thought process of what I am doing now is much better than what I've done in the past so the weight should just be falling off. After all, I completed a total of nine work outs between Monday morning and Friday afternoon; that should be enough.

But it's not enough. Because how I fuel my body impacts how I work out and how I feel at the end of the day.

So while I wanted to quit, I chose to keep going. I made better choices for lunch the rest of the week. I rushed home and made a healthy dinner for my husband on Thursday, and then I headed to the gym for circuit training with a personal trainer.

a combined 815 calories burned.

I, honestly, do not think I have worked out as hard as I did that afternoon. With someone watching me, telling me how to complete the reps and making sure I kept my heart rate up the whole time, I finished the 30-minutes of circuit training with sweat dripping down my forehead and soaking my back. My legs felt like Jell-O, and I felt accomplished.

I planned to head home but instead went to another class which focused on abs and the back. By the end of the hour long work out, I felt rejuvenated and refreshed. The evening work out surpassed my expectations and made up for the lunch work out that was not.

I no longer wanted to quit. Instead, I wanted to keep going (and going).

Friday morning I had every intention of jumping out of bed at 5:15 and heading to the gym. I wanted to spend time running and walking on the treadmill. I wanted the sweat and achy legs every good morning should start with. But my legs still felt like Jell-O when I woke up. My shoulders and triceps ached. My nose was stuffy. And my body told me it needed more rest.

Maybe it was the fact that I stayed up too late watching Tuesday's episode of The Biggest Loser on my DVR. Or maybe it was that I ate too much ice cream (sugar free!) last night while watching The Biggest Loser. It could have been that after eight work outs in four days my body was just plain exhausted. So I listened. And I cuddled up with the dogs and fell back asleep for another 90 minutes.

When I woke up, I felt refreshed. My legs were a bit more firm, and I was ready to tackle the day. I promised myself that I would make good choices. I promised myself that I would succeed, and I did. I focused on what I ate and how much I ate. I pushed myself at the gym during spin class. I drank nothing but water - including when we went out for dinner.

Most of the weekend was a success as well. I completed over 50 minutes of cardio on Saturday morning. I recognized the bad choices I made (finishing off the sugar free mint chocolate chip ice cream) and promised myself that I would keep from making those same bad choices again. And I decided on a plan to prevent future excursions into the ice cream container - not buying ice cream unless it is already in an individual serving. I ate sushi and drank lots of water before going to the Taylor Swift concert. I allowed myself to take a day off from exercise, allowing my body to heal some, and rewarded my hard work with new workout clothes and two books.

And then I took a picture of myself in my new workout clothes and started to see what others have been telling me that they saw - change.

Comparing my current state of mind now to the state of mind I had on Thursday isn't something I can really do. Because I don't want to return to where I was on Thursday; I want to recognize my current successes and remind myself that I am capable of doing this. And I want to move forward.

So I will.

I will allow myself days off when I need them. I will reward myself with healthy rewards (IE: anything but food). I will take time to see my successes, point them out to other people (which I did with my husband), and remember that there are more successes to come. And when I stumble? Because I will stumble. I will pick myself back up and never give up; I will take the responsibility I need to and then move forward.

(title from "you are here" by needtobreathe)

keeping my hopes unbroken

2011-10-12T11:44:00.000-05:00

After cupcakes and conversation with friends Tuesday night, I came home and stretched out on the couch. I placed an ice pack on each knee, alternating between icing the top of my knee and behind my knee, and didn't move for over an hour. It was after 10pm when I finally got off the couch, dressed and slipped into bed.

I do my best to sleep in the clothes I plan to wear while working out. It helps motivate me to get out of bed when the dreaded alarm blasts, and it generally cuts down on the amount of time I spend getting ready. So I did just that last night. Grey shorts and a bright orange tee-shirt from my time in China.

The alarm went off this morning, and I hit the snooze button three times. I knew I wanted to complete a 30-minute circuit training workout. I planned to shower and change at the gym (and hopefully grab breakfast there because I think they serve bagels and coffee in the morning for members!). Once I finally pulled myself out of bed, there were two dogs to let out, a bedroom floor to sweep, and lunch to make.

I moved a little slower than I should have, but I got it all done. And I got my gym bag packed. Then I remembered that my heart rate monitor strap was hanging in the bathroom drying. So I grabbed it along with all the goodies I would need for a shower at the gym. I was late but still determined to make it to the gym.

And it was at that time that I realized ~~I had left the actual heart rate monitor at my office following yesterday's second work out~~ (I accidentally threw my monitor into the laundry basket along with my dirty clothes. It was later recovered my my fearless roommate while I was at work.)

Frustrated. Late. Discouraged. Tired. Angry. Those emotions quickly raced through my mind as I tossed things out of my gym bag and purse in hopes of being surprised by the monitor. There was no surprise, and it was too late to make the 15 minute drive tot he gym, squeeze in a 30 minute work out, shower, and drive the 40 minutes to my office.

So today is a day of changing plans. Of taking a deep breath and moving workouts around. Of not letting a little hiccup throw me off for the whole day.

There was a time (ahem - only a week or two ago) that something like this would have kept me from even making it to the gym. Because I would have been lazy. I would have been too set on having my lunch break be an actual lunch break at least once during the week. I would have grabbed onto any reason not to make it to the gym.

But now, though annoyed, I can look past the early morning and lack of work out and instead focus on what I will do for the rest of the day. And I can also be thankful for my two gym memberships that allow me to work out near home in the morning, evenings, and weekends or during the work day.

Having missed the morning workout makes me wonder about taking some mornings off. Like this morning. I could have gone back to sleep. I wanted to go back to sleep. And judging by the yawns and cuddles on the couch, I think my dogs also wanted me to go back to sleep. But I stayed awake instead. As tired as I was, I knew I needed to remain in the habit of being up and alert. So even if I do decide to take a morning off from exercise (which I think my knees and abs were secretly grateful for), it seems important for me to get out of bed and at least do something like sit on the couch. Because then my body is awake even if it is not moving.

Having missed the morning workout also reminds me that I need to sometimes change my plans on what kind of work outs I will do. Today I was scheduled for a 30-minute circuit workout and then an hour of water aerobics. But instead, there will be 45 minutes of swimming, sans heart rate monitor, and then cardio with lower body weights alongside a friend. I'm excited for working out with a friend - even though I am a bit scared of pushing myself harder to keep up (which will be a good thing in the end).

Not having the heart rate monitor for the swimming portion of my work out saddens me. I'm excited to track every single calorie burned and to see myself inching closer and closer to burning the number of calories I am supposed to this week (3750) and also spending the allotted time in each zone. I'm really not sure how I went about exercising without this thing. But at least I know I will not allow the lack of the heart rate monitor to be an excuse to not work out.

I also had the opportunity to step on the scale. After slowly gaining a few pounds over the past several weeks, I am now back down to the 25 pounds lost mark. And I'm feeling better. I'm also eating better. I needed a break from counting every calorie and watching everything I ate. And while on that break, I made good choices but still ate more of some things than I should have (like french fries and blizzards/milkshakes from DQ [which we don't have in OK so they were eaten while on vacation in TX and were both smalls!]). Now I want healthier things versus unhealthy things. Now I choose no sugar added ice cream and sugar free bread because I want it not because I have to have it. I'm also starting to make a mean turkey sandwich (today's sandwich can be seen to the left) rather than depending on Subway to make the sandwich for me.

It's the little things in life, and it's what you do with the frustrations of life.

Part of abandoning the all-or-nothing mentality is allowing yourself room for setbacks. We are bound to have lapses on the road to health and wellness, but it is critical that we learn how to handle small failures positively so that we can minimize their long-term destructive effects. One setback is one setback—it is not the end of the world, nor is it the end of your journey toward a better you. Jillian Michaels

(title from "your love is a song" by switchfoot)

the walls we crashed through

2011-10-11T14:57:00.000-05:00

My alarm went off at 5:10 Monday morning. I pressed the snooze button and then rolled out of bed at 5:17am. It was difficult to keep my eyes open, but I stumbled through the house and pulled on shorts, a tee-shirt, and a sweatshirt since it was cold outside.

I arrived at the gym a little after 5:30. My bleary eyes were clear, and I felt ready to tackle a 30-minute circuit workout. One sweaty bra, several ounces of water, and five minutes of stretching later I was done. My forehead was dripping sweat. My heart rate got up to 153 and averaged at 132. I knew I could have pushed myself harder and promised myself that I would - next time.

That afternoon, instead of sitting at a table and eating my sandwich (and then twiddling my thumbs for an hour), I took to the pool for my lunch break.

Swimming is something I love. Being in chlorinated water is like being home for me. I spent several years improving my stroke and racing alongside other swimmers for the Katy Aquatics. There were many times I fought against practice, and eventually, I quit.

My parents were never ones to push. They wanted me to maintain my commitments, but it was always up to me to decide what I would do and to see it through. They supported me in all my endeavors (acting, voice lessons, horseback riding, swimming, etc.), but it was up to me to do the hard work.

There's a part of me that, just like then, wants to quit now. Because it's hard. But unlike then, I refuse to quit. I am going to see this weight loss thing through because I can.

When I stopped swimming, I didn't realize how it would affect everything. I went from being relatively athletic to being overweight. I was never as thin as my friends, and I remember looking at the picture of my in the swimsuit and seeing a chubby girl. What I see now is a girl who had muscles and a different build than many of my friends. At the time, I wanted to win races and compete for a long time, but I stopped, partilally because it seemed like everyone else was so much better and faster than I was.

It doesn't matter how fast I am. I don't have to compete against anyone else. This journey.. this LIFE.. isn't about comparing myself to someone else. It isn't about losing more weight than another woman in my shoes or being better than someone else. It's about losing the weight I have to lose and being better than I have been in the past.

I've heard from many people in my life that I seem so dedicated. That I am doing well. That they are proud of me. That I'm inspiring them to go after the same things I am. And while I appreciate the words, I so often feel like I am none of those things. I so often feel like the girl who loved the chlorinated water but still quit.

I would take it back if I could. I would stick with the swimming. I would have made sure to try out for the team in high school. I wouldn't have settled for just lifeguarding and eaching swim lessons.

But I can't take it back. And it's time that I stop wishing I could take it back or wondering what would have happened if I had stuck with it. All I can do right now is see this thing through and not quit as I have in the past.

Workout #1 and Workout #2 from 10/10/11. 598 calories burned.

I remembered all of this as my alarm went off at 5:00 this morning, and I strongly considered hitting hte snooze buttonand falling back asleep for another hour. Instead of slipping deeper into the covers, I threw both legs off the bed and got up - excited dogs and all.

My workout was a little rushed due to needing to get home and shower before work, but I finished the 52-minute workout sweaty and sore thanks to the 15 minutes of stationary bicycle and 7 minutes of treadmill and then 30 minutes of weights. Looking at my heart rate monitor, I know I need to work on icreasing my heart rate and getting into a different zone as my maximum heart rate was 145 and the average was 130.

The goal I had for the lunchtime workout was to spend the majority of the time in "zone 2." I headed off to zumba and checked my heart rate monitor periodically. I wanted to pump my fist every time I saw I was in the right zone but instead just did my best to complete the steps as close to correctly as possible. And hour later, I found that I had spent just over 50 minutes in "zone 2" with a maximum heart rate of 152 and an average heart rate of 137.

Workout #1 and Workout #2 from 10/11/11. 989 calories burned.

Seeing those numbers (989 calories burned!) inspires me. It makes me want to head right back to the gym after work. But instead I'll spend the night with friends from church - burning calories from laughing. Seeing those numbers also reminds me of just how far I have come - all the way from the girl who quit swimming to the girl who is pushing herself past the point of quitting. And those numbers make me quite excited for tomorrow's work out. 30-minute circuit and water aerobics - here I come!

(title from "long live" by taylor swift)

i ain't lost - just wandering

2011-10-10T07:00:00.000-05:00

I started my weight loss journey with one thought in mind. And that thought was that I would make no excuses.

I did well with no excuses for a few months. There were morning workouts and everyday afternoon workouts in the pool. I tracked almost every morsel of food that I put into my mouth. I weighed myself ~~weekly~~daily and saw a consistent (slow) loss.

I struggled through some of the first months, but I still did something almost every day. There were days when I ate more than I should have, as well as things I shouldn't have, but I continued to track the calories.

I saw a stall in my weight. I found it more difficult to wake up in the morning. I stopped having someone to meet at the gym. And then I stopped going to the gym in the morning. I stopped tracking what I ate. And I started making excuses.

For the past several weeks, I realized that the excuses were getting out of hand. Every night, I set my alarm, and every morning, I woke up with the alarm but made the choice to reset the alarm and fall back into a not so very restful sleep. And every day, I regretted the choice and promised myself that I would wake up the next morning for a workout.

My excuses were vast. No one to go work out with. Dogs who wanted to cuddle in the morning. A late night the day before. The fact that I could go work out after work or during lunch. Needing a break. Letting my muscles rest.

In moderation, those things are good. There does need to be rest. Some mornings it is okay to feed my soul by cuddling with the dogs instead of lifting weights and sweating through my sports bra. But when the reasons for not working out overpower the number of workouts in a week, there is a problem.

I saw the problem, but I didn't see a solution. I wanted motivation that just wasn't coming. I also wanted it to be easy, but it wasn't easy. It was really hard.

But that's the point. If exercise and weight loss were easy, then no one would sit on the couch and contemplate heading into the gym instead of actually heading into the gym. Because it's hard, a person has to make a daily choice to exercise and an hourly choice to eat well and eat for the right reasons.

Armed with a week off work, a pair of new shoes, and a new heart rate monitor, I am back into the game of making no more excuses.

It started on Friday. I left for the gym and concentrated through a 30-minute circuit work-out. And then, on Saturday, I dropped my husband off at the golf course and then made my way to the gym. A little over an hour later, I was sweaty and had burned off almost 600 calories. I felt invigorated and excited to be back at the gym. Sunday morning came, and I promised myself I would make it to the gym that day - whether in the early hours of the day or later in the day.

It didn't happen this morning, and when the afternoon rolled around, the skies continued to drop several inches of rain and partially flood the roadways. The easy thing would have been to said it wasn't safe to drive. The easy thing would have been to change into a sweatshirt and cuddle up on the couch. But I didn't want to do the easy thing.

So I started by putting my shorts and tee-shirt on. Then I slipped my feet into my new shoes and jogged out into the rain. I took the drive slowly, but I made it to the gym. Nothing was going to hold me back.

The heart rate monitor I received tracks my workouts. It also suggests how many hours a week I should spend exercising in order to lose weight, and it informs me of what "zone" I am in as well as how much time I need to spend in each zone every week to meet my goals. It's like a personal trainer but without all the yelling.

I wore it on Saturday, and I wore it on Sunday. And already I don't know what I did without it. Seeing the number of calories I've burned as well as knowing what my average heart rate is inspires me and makes me want to push myself more. I'm able to let go of the handrail on the treadmill and actually run for part of my cardio work out.

Now, I want to make a workout plan and stick to it. Now, I am excited for pressing the "train" button on my heart rate monitor and then pushing myself to run for a whole minute and then walk and then run again for a whole minute. I lose seeing my heart rate get above 158 and knowing that I did it on my own without someone pushing me and forcing me to work off the pounds.

And then, when I sit down to eat, I want to make better choices. I don't want to eat something greasy and fried just for the sake of eating something greasy and fried. There are moments when I will make the decision to have pizza for dinner, and those moments are okay as long as they are just moments and not every single day of the week happenings.

So what is my plan? I want to work out once every day for the next few weeks. But if a work out doesn't happen one day, I want to be okay with that. And I want to work out for the sake of working out - not to make up for the poor choices I made earlier in the day (as I've had a tendency to do). I know that food plays just as much, if nor more of, a role as exercise does. But I also know that the more I exercise the better I will eat. So I will start with time spent in the gym, and I will finish with better choices in the kitchen.

My exercise plan is as follows:

Is it ambitious? Yes. Impossible? No.

This time it is up to me. There will be no one to meet at the gym in the mornings. No one to decide when I complete each work out. No one except for me. And as much as I want that assistance, that accountability, I know that this journey is a solo journey and every decision comes down to me.

I'll either succeed because of my hard work and determination. ~~Or I will fail.~~ No one else can make me do it. And while it's a difficult realization to come to, I'm excited that no one else will be able to take credit for my success.

(title from "hometown glory" by adele)