What's the dumbest/most useless/funniest item I spent money on during this lifestyle journey?
I am a total SUCKER for marketing.
Fun pictures, great promises, time-saver, one-of-a-kind? I'm willing to give it a shot. I mean — what the heck! I have made some great discoveries over the years; lipsticks, shoes, stores, hotels — lots of great, fun gems uncovered because I'm a sucker for marketing.
But as you would expect, not all of my choices/investments work out… In fact a few of them REALLY didn't work out.
And while some would argue that my biggest folly to date is probably the 'P EZ; A Travel Urinal'… I personally think that my biggest mistake was 'The Boobypack'.
'The Boobypack; a fanny pack for your rack'.
But I just HAD to try it!
I am known (sadly) for using my bra as a purse. It's a genetic thing, I'm fairly sure.
So to find a bra, advertised as a sports bra, with zippered POCKETS and built with the intention of carrying stuff?!!
I had to try it. It was going to solve ALL of my problems. This is what I had been searching for!
I picked a great color. They had friendly customer service. Lots of promising details in pockets and support and wearability.
Then it arrived in the mail. I pulled it out of the box.
It was cute! I loved the color.
The bra was made of t-shirt-like material. It didn't control anything, even when I was walking. Slowly. With my arms crossed.
The straps were tiny and very stretchy. NOT designed to do any real work. It was cute. That's it. Cute in the sports bra world isn't really very helpful.
The pockets are oddly shaped and didn't hold much.
Zippers started at the BACK of the bra. To put something in the pocket near the right underarm area you had to reach your left hand alllllll the way behind your right shoulder blade and pull the zipper BACK toward your front. I couldn't manage the zippers by myself if the bra was on — so whatever was in the pockets was just going to have to stay there until I took the bra off. Not helpful.
Uh… No bottom band to support and catch the girls. So… Well… Do I need to explain more?
So? Why didn't I return it? Well… Even after trying it on and assessing all of this — I was SURE it was going to hold up better than it looked. I was sure of it. It had pockets. It had to work!
So I took it out for an easy run.
After about 7 miserable minutes of running 'totally free', I conceded defeat. This bra was not going to work. Even with pockets. I doubled back, walking, to my car. Corrected my mistake and then went back out for a run.
Totally irritated (literally and figuratively) I left the bra on the top of the trunk of the car in the hopes that someone would steal it. Or use it as wilderness TP. Or a bird would fly off with it.
No such luck. I still have it.
So the Boobypack has been my top failure.
I HATE running. So, how did you learn to love running?!
Jeff and I, North Face, December 2014. Those smiles? Genuine.
I get asked this question a bunch. As we near the end of January — resolutions being put to the test — I get asked with increasing urgency.
I answer their statement/question with a question.
I really want to know WHY they think they have to love running specifically.
The truth is maybe they won't love running. It is not for everyone. And that's OK.
The REAL issue is not running anyway.
The key to healthy, sustainable success is to fall in love with SOME physical activity that you will consistently make time in your day to do. Something active, fun, rewarding and friend-based or solitude-giving. You may love swimming or hiking or cycling or walking or Zumba.
It does not have to be running. It just has to be something. 🙂 THAT is the secret.
Being active is what I fell in love with and what really changed my life.
Sometimes people really do want to know how to learn to love running specifically.
I can tell you how I got started. And we have to start with my mindset.
Even then, only RUN if I didn't stand a fighting chance.
One day about 3 years ago I realized that I would quickly and flippantly tell everyone that I hated running. Someone eventually challenged me about exactly WHY I hated it. What specifically did I not enjoy?
The truth that grudgingly emerged was that I had NEVER, ever actually tried running.
I've been overweight my entire life.
Overweight people who try to run get made fun of (brutally so. Google it if you doubt me) and they look pathetically ridiculous.
I am not just 'overweight', I am morbidly obese. I am fat.
And if I tell people I hate running — they'll assume I have tried it and I am just choosing not to run.
It's a rough process to realize and acknowledge something really ugly, weak about yourself.
Running for me sucked at the start. Let's just get that out of the way. It was physically painful. Mentally exhausting. I was 230 pounds or so.
But I promised myself that this time I would give it a really solid effort and at least get PAST the fear to a personally informed opinion.
I pulled a beginners running plan off the internet, wore the best compression gear I could afford, made time for running each day, set mini-goals, told some friends.
I wholeheartedly, honestly tried running.
It was SLOW and painful at the start. In an earlier blog I detailed how I literally started by running across a driveway on my daily walk. That's all I could handle. I kept working to build distance and time.
I struggled. Not gonna lie.
I would sweat so heavily – any time of year – I was drenched. My face would turn an alarming beet red and people would ask if I was OK. I would be red-faced and sweating for HOURS after working out. My feet, legs and hips would hurt for days after an attempt. There were mean catcalls made out of car windows. My appetite went through the roof and I had to REALLY watch my food consumption to keep the scale creeping downward. I had to invest in better shoes, bras and specialty compression gear.
I kind of fell for it.
I kept trying. And learning. And meeting great people. And running further.
My 'love' for running was obviously NOT a love at first sight kind of thing.
It was a 2+ year process of stubbornly not giving up.
So the key to learning to 'love' running, as far as I am concerned???
There are legit physical issues that prevent people from running. I get that. I'm not here to ask you to do something you physically should not be doing.
But I am going to ask a much bigger question. The question I had to ask myself.
For me running was something I feared. That's why I thought I hated it.
I didn't hate running. I was scared of being made fun of. I was afraid I would look dumb. I was paralyzed by where/how to even start. I was terrified that people would pity me or mock me or be disgusted by me.
I was afraid of something I had never tried.
Once I tried it — really, truly gave it an honest effort — it began to change my life.
That first step is ALWAYS the hardest… But it was so, so worth braving it.
Running has changed my life. And there is no doubt that it is part of what saved my life.
I remember calling Wade about a year into this journey when I hit a really rough patch.
Pissed off despair would be an accurate description of my emotional state. He had seen it several times.
"You're not just doing this for today. You know that.
Your work will show up on the scale next week or the week after if you keep at it.
And maybe the weight gain is just because you need to s*&%.
I have the benefit of some distance, perspective and without a DOUBT, I have a certain amount of selective memory about this whole lifestyle journey I have been on.
When I think about WHY I hung in when things got crappy (pun intended) it was largely because I had some strategies that I used to get through the rough and trying times.
2. Goals. Once I signed up for my first race/event I was not going to waste the money by not being ready. Signing up for a race/event gives me something aspirational and fun to focus on. Then taking the additional step of telling some friends or the entire world of Facebook (depending on your bravery) ups the accountability factor.
And I can SEE the difference.
I know what I had to do to get to this point.
I'm having a great time, randomly ran into Hannah and Jeff in the middle of the forest while we were all enjoying an activity I never even knew existed 3 years ago. Trail running?! Who knew?!
Before, during and after pictures remind me that even if I am not where I want to be, I have still made undeniable, positive progress. Big or small. Progress, is progress.
Incentives, goals, strategies, trusted friends.
So, please TELL me what incentives you have lined up, or the goals you have set or what a friend has done to keep you focused and positive.
I would really, truly LOVE to hear your stories! Really!
Even 'good' pictures from when I was my heaviest were super hard to find.
When you weigh 350+ pounds you do not willingly pose for the camera. It's much easier to live without having to face iron-clad proof that you are or were ever really that big.
You learn to avoid the camera at all costs. If someone actually manages to get a picture of you and you have the ability, you GET RID OF IT.
You're so obese that your arms can not physically lay at your side.
How soft, puffy and round everything looks.
How your clothes don't fit. Fat rolls with fabric clinging to them. Seams busting open. Buttons being seriously tested.
How much of the picture frame you take up.
Blink. Don't have to do anything dramatic or try to run from the photographer. No one will use a picture if your eyes aren't open.
Become a photographer. Built-in reason to NOT be in pictures. I carried my camera everywhere.
So, you can see, I had trouble finding pictures from when I was at my heaviest.
My mom had squirreled some away.
I literally sat on the floor cringing as I looked through them. Feeling some intense shame and embarassment.
I did not want to admit that I now had these pictures. I didn't want anyone else to see them.
I had told Spencer I couldn't find any pictures – which was totally true at first.
I considered telling him I still couldn't find any.
But I can't lie to Spencer.
AND in looking at the pictures and debating about hiding them or denying their existence… I realized something. I realized that I needed to stop being so freaking mean to myself.
The fact is, I was morbidly obese for most of my adult life.
I can hate that fact all I want, but it doesn't change it.
Hiding or denying the fat me doesn't mean she never existed.
The current me needs to quit trying to beat the crap out of the former me. How's that for a boxing match?
These pictures tell some of my greatest stories and experiences and they showcase some of the best people of my life.
I have amazing, crazy, beautiful, loving family and friends. We have traveled and laughed and loved through great times and tough times and really bad hair styles. We have weathered storms and wrecked havoc.
The pictures simply show that I have been spoiled with a GREAT and full life.
My days of dodging the camera are officially over.
I have some stories left to create and a life to live. 🙂 NO matter what I look like.
My mom has been gone almost 5 years and in that squirreled away stack of pictures there were a lot of her smiling mug greeting me.
My mom never shied away from the camera. Was she perfectly thin and thrilled with her body. No.
Did she love her life and everyone in it? YES.
That's all I see when I look at those pictures of her.
Her hands that held each of us when we desperately needed her and those same hands that were her best utensil in the kitchen. Her blue, kind eyes that were ALWAYS smiling. The smirk that meant she was about to dish out some fantastic pun.
I absolutely see her wheelchair and painfully crooked feet and legs. But I see them with the understanding and pride that they NEVER stopped her from living her life and loving her people.
I see the fierce and pure joy she had for being alive to be a part of her husband, daughters and grandkids lives. The hugs and laughs and jokes and purely happy times. That's WHAT I see.
Don't shy away from the camera because you don't like how you look today.
Pictures help tell the story of your life. And your role in the life of others.
No matter how you look today — it IS part of your story. OWN IT.
Those who love you will look at snapshots in the future and see you with their eyes, but most importantly they will see you with their heart.
My friend Wendie and I were having coffee last week. Chattering excitedly about the EPIC plans all of our friends have for 2015.
I asked her for some honest feedback on this whole adventure of blogging.
'You have been writing about the fun stuff, the happiness, the A-Z success, the highlights.
You really need to talk about the ugly, hard stuff, the sad stuff, the things that make people quit and give up.
She said I should consider talk about the stuff NO ONE WANTS to really talk about… Not even just the embarrassing stuff, which usually makes for at least a great story or laugh at some point.
She said to tackle the DAILY GRIND. The things that easily erode away confidence. Or stop you in your tracks if you have to battle it too many times. The things that fatigue you or plant nagging self-doubt.
This is the stuff that I battled intently, intensely and consistently this time around.
This is also the exact listing of where I was derailed in EVERY past attempt I made on a 'diet' or exercise regime.
I was NOT going to talk about my fat rolls and bulk and weight and the problems they were causing when I tried to exercise, with anyone. Chafing, motion control, infections, back strains. I suffered in embarrassed and humiliated silence for a VERY long time. Shame. Deep shame.
Life felt unfair. Going to bed hungry, feeling overwhelmed and alone. Usually a little pissed off that 'normal people' could eat whatever they wanted. Meanwhile I was a freaking air fern that could gain weight by SMELLING cookies baking.
Type 2 Diabetes. TRYING to get off of insulin. Having to add more back in. Endless finger sticks. Lows that made me an unbearable, cranky, bratty turd. Trying to eat the right thing at the right time and not be over calories for the day.
Being so sore from exercising that I literally thought something was broken or ruined.
Going to social events and choosing NOT to eat what everyone else was eating. And then trying HARD not to look awkward or sad or out of sorts.
Wanting to quit. Feeling overwhelmed. Knowing there was NO END IN SIGHT. Ever. These habits had to be 'for life'.
Food was spot on. Measured and counted everything. Exercised every single day. Drank water. Good blood sugars. I did everything I was supposed to be doing. Scale said I was UP. *Insert scream of rage/despair here*.
Scale dictating my mood and my feelings of success. I would become a thundercloud of despair because I was up half or a full pound on any given day.
I know I am NOT alone in my listing of 'sucky' things… I've talked to too many people.
Please… Tell me what's missing from my list that is on your list? What is the crap in the middle of your journey?
And once we know what were facing and struggling against… How do we fight back and WIN?
I promised Wendie that we would get conversations started about battling the crap in the middle.
Running my first 5K in 2013.
This past week a woman I have met a few times confronted me for details.
She wants to run a Disney Half Marathon and has never run before. She LOVES Disney and is using that for motivation to get started on some lifestyle changes.
She asked me how to get started running.
It started with driveways and telephone poles.
I had been walking with focus and intent for several months and was working on walking faster and longer distances. I'd walked several 10K's at that point.
I live in the farm country. From our farm to the stop sign is 2.43 miles round trip. Five houses on the road, one annoying dog, some railroad tracks. The roads are usually empty.
When I finally decided I wanted to learn how to run, I picked a short distance and gave it a shot. I planned to jog between two telephone poles on our road.
I made it across the width of our neighbors driveway.
Those telephone poles suddenly seemed MILES and miles apart.
I jogged the driveway and then I walked to the stop sign. And when I got back to our neighbors driveway I forced myself to jog back across.
The next few days and weeks I forced myself to add a few running steps each day.
By the next month I was struggling, but I was jogging between those freaking telephone poles.
I had a huge grin on my face.
That question really offended me at first.
I had moments of wondering what in the hell I was doing. For sure. No doubt.
Do NOT forget that I wanted, was working very hard to create, a whole new lifestyle. And I was being chased by diabetes. I was in a very real race for MY LIFE. You could say I was motivated.
The fact that it took me a month to hit my initial goal of jogging between telephone poles? I saw it as victory that I didn't give up, NOT discouraged with the time it took to get to that goal.
But then I didn't stop with the telephone poles. I kept looking for new landmarks.
I remember the first time I ran all the way to the stop sign.
And then the time I ran to the stop sign and BACK.
I just kept picking landmarks and made a game out of pushing myself to get there as fast and best I could.
Those first physical steps were really, truly that small.
I have 10 pounds of loose skin along for this run.
When you weigh a lot (392 pounds) and lose a lot of weight (230 pounds), you wind up with excess skin.
In my case, it was almost all belly skin.
Skin is elastic, but NOT that elastic. Especially when it was stretched out for 20+ years.
Turns out that loose skin is actually a big problem and not just because of how it looks.
My belly flap of skin hung to the top of my thighs.
Loose skin develops its own inertia which means I had to become an expert in compression gear if I wanted to do anything other than stand upright or walk casually. 🙂 Tanks, shorts, girdles, ace bandages, Spanx. You name it. It was a daily task to figure out how to stay active and keep the loose skin from hurting me.
I was developing arthritis in my spine from the skin pulling on my lower back.
I had chronic infections and abrasions on the loose skin of my belly.
I tried every potion, cream, gizmo I could in hopes that the skin would magically shrink back.
FINALLY my sister drug me to a cosmetic surgeon. He gently told me NOTHING would make the skin retract. The only cure was removal. The surgery was a tough one.
I talked to my family and friends to make sure they were supportive. I saved every penny. Talked to other patients who had done the surgery.
Asked Spencer to help me get as fit as possible. I kept being told fitness was tied to good healing and a quicker recovery.
On 11/20/13 I had a procedure called a 'Full Body Lift'.
It was an 8 hour surgery. I have a 360 degree scar that goes around my waist at the 'bikini' line. They also rebuilt the abdominal wall as part of the surgery.
They removed just shy of 10 pounds of excess skin.
I had over a thousand stitches in my abdominal wall, which now has 4 vertical 'pleats'. I had internal stitches the circumference of my hip line and then the incision was glued externally. I had stitches in my newly crafted belly button. They repaired 3 hernias.
They cut the skin at the pelvic/hip line and all the skin covering my ribs and upper belly, waist and back basically got pulled down – tight. I am REALLY simplifying it, but you get the idea.
He built me a fake belly button.
My hips and the incision line are STILL totally numb well over a year later. I am told the feeling may never return.
I had 3 drains on the incision line for several weeks. Yup. It was as UNCOMFORTABLE and hard to manage, as you would imagine. It was a great day when those suckers got pulled out.
I have to be honest. In the early phases of healing from this surgery I was SURE I had made a horrible, terrible mistake… It was simply a brutal experience. No other way to explain it. Pain like I had never had to deal with. Right after surgery I may or may not have texted a few friends asking them to come kill me… Maybe. I'm glad none of them listened.
I had a flawless recovery. A few minor infections – but nothing major. The doc kept telling me it was because I had a healthy diet, perfectly controlled blood sugar and had taken the time to get in shape for the surgery.
This surgery has a high complication rate and is known for difficult, prolonged healing because of the 360 degree incision.
I could not even begin to imagine that kind of FREEDOM!!! NOT having all this excess skin? Not having to worry about compression gear and infections and chafing and a belly flap of skin beating me to death? Just throwing on basic gear and going for a RUN?!?
It was an incredible feeling to run with nothing but the basics. Just because I FINALLY could.
To say that this surgery changed my life is an understatement.
Nowadays? I and my fake belly button are free to just grab my favorite running clothes and a pair of shoes and GO run… Anytime. Anywhere.