Thanks for caring.

I’m here, and I’m still kicking… Although just barely.

As I sit writing this, the three draft posts I’ve been working on over the course of the past several months seem to be mocking me.

A lot has happened—some good things, some not so good things.

As many of you guessed, my weight is, indeed, up, but I haven’t regained everything, and that’s what’s important.

On Friday, I had planned on writing an update post, but then my world shifted on its axis… and now I feel more lost than ever.

One of my oldest and dearest friends took his own life on Friday morning, and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again. The world feels darker now, and things that once seemed important don’t seem important at all now.

Thank you for caring about me. The little comments and emails I’ve received have made me smile.

I owe it to you to be here, and I’m sorry I haven’t been.

I’ll be back soon. Right now I just need to figure out how to cope and move on with my life—in more ways than one.

rachaelxoxo

250.8 (Bring on the tears!)

Last Posted Weight: 246.6 lbs.
Weigh-in #92 Weight: 248.4 lbs.
Weekly Change: +1.8 lbs.
Weigh-in #93 Weight: 248.6 lbs.
Weekly Change: +0.2 lbs.
Weigh-in #94 Weight: 250.8 lbs.
Weekly Change: +2.2 lbs.
Total Weight Lost: 67.4 lbs.

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Whelp, it’s happened: I have—officially—done what I swore I’d never do again: I’m back above 250 lbs.

Friday was a sad day.

My coworker and friend, Sade, always weighs me; I like to joke that she’s my good luck charm because my biggest and most memorable weight loss milestones have always happened at her scale. She’s been traveling the past two Fridays, though, so I haven’t been able to weigh-in with her…

This last Friday, I did my own weigh-in at work for the first time ever… And it took some serious restraint not to fudge the numbers or strip off articles of clothing just so I could see that 5 disappear… But, alas, I owned up to my mistakes.

Because there have been some mistakes made, definitely.

June has been tough—really tough. I’ve been working anywhere from 5-7 days per week at Weight Watchers, and as you all know, I’m also in school… and it’s hard. I’m doing awesome in my clinical phonetics course (I have a solid A and a good understanding of the subject), but I’m floundering in my speech science (read: anatomy and physiology) course. On my first a+p exam, I got a low B… and I worked hard for that. I took my second exam yesterday, and I did really poorly: I got a C- (it was a D+ until my professor—miraculously—gave me a point back for a question that was wrongly docked during auto-grading).

My stress levels have been through the roof…

The only thing that’s allowed me to keep my head above water is the shadowing/interning I’ve done with some local speech-language pathologists here in the city. Last time I wrote, I mentioned that one of my member friends at Weight Watchers passed my name along to some of her former colleagues, and, since then, so many awesome opportunities have fallen into my lap . I’ve gotten to do and see some really incredible things, and I get so much joy from being elbows deep in the clinical world.

For the first time in my life, I feel like something that I’m struggling with is actually going to pan out and be worth it if I stick it out. I’ve mentioned my failed attempt at (and my subsequent dropping-out of) nursing school a time or two here on the blog, and I’ve candidly mentioned, too, that I sometimes have those same lingering “it’s time to quit while you’re ahead” thoughts about my weight loss journey, too.

But not this… Not graduate school and the career that I can now see so clearly on the horizon. For this, I will struggle.

The struggling comes with a price, though, it seems…

I’ve been eating a lot of convenience food because I just can’t seem to manage my time well enough to do much else these days. My once incredibly well thought out, home-cooked breakfasts have now morphed into microwaved breakfast sandwiches or burritos alongside a (hopefully non-moldy) piece of fruit… which I eat on my lap as I’m driving to work in the mornings… or at my desk in between weighing in members.

My car is a disaster. I was horrified yesterday when I noticed that my backseat had become a graveyard for (literally) over a dozen stray Dunkin’ Donuts, Starbucks, and Carino coffee cups. Somehow I’ve become a regular at three separate coffee shops… The baristas all know my name and my go-to orders (which, you’ll be happy to know, are all some form of black coffee loaded up with either soy or almond milk and sometimes a little sugar-free crap tossed in for good measure, too—all very point-friendly, I promise!).

I also rarely cook anymore. I either grab the most point-friendly take out option I can, or I end up making a salad or a sandwich for dinner. Sometimes I’ll quickly cook some eggs and toast if I’m really in the mood for something hot for dinner, but actually taking the time to look up recipes, plan a meal, cook it, and then eat it? Yeah. Not so much.

In short, the train has completely derailed at this point.

My Weight Watchers leader, Stephanie, always preaches that the key to this whole journey is not ridding yourself of the tools that helped lead to your success.

…I have totally and completely abandoned all of my tools.

Do I still track honestly, every single day, no matter what?  No. Do I still sit down and plan my meals for the week? No. Do I still set weekly goals? No. Do I still go to a Weight Watchers meeting every single week (as a member)? No.

My eating isn’t terrible… really! I’m not eating the way I used to when I was grossly overweight. When I do track, my tracker looks pretty good, and 9 times out of 10, I manage to stay within my daily/weekly points… But if I’m super honest with myself (and all of you), I’ll admit that I know I’m still not doing well. When I was really losing weight, I was hardly ever eating out—almost all of my food was home-cooked. Dessert? Sometimes, sure, but not on a regular basis (like I’m doing now). Back in the heyday of my weight loss success, I was really, really good about picking and choosing what was “worth it.” Now? Not so much.

Bad day at work? School? Anatomy and physiology homework making you go crosseyed? There’s no harm in a 15-point cupcake… as long as you track it!

In short, the quality of food I’m choosing is really, really poor… And I know that. I also know that I can’t outrun my fork… So poor food choices all the time, even in the “correct” quantity, are not going to benefit me.

These are things I know; I’m not living in denial… But my life is seriously shifting right now… And it’s quite a learning curve.

It turns out that nothing is quite like you expect it to be… (Whod’a thunk it, right? …I sound super 23 here, don’t I?) I expected my weight loss journey to go one way, and it’s definitely, definitely not lived up to my expectations. I also expected that graduating at the top of my class as an undergrad meant I’d also have it easy in graduate school, and that, too, is definitely not the case…

Oh well. So goes life!

I have to find a way to cope.

Weight Watchers is sending me to Chicago in about two weeks, so, preferably, I need to pull it together before then… Here’s hoping!

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Speaking of Chicago… If you’re following me on Instagram, then you know that a couple of weeks ago, I finally met Amber in person!

Coolest thing ever? Meeting my blogging friends in real life! Amber was visiting Denver with her boyfriend and her family, and she (thoughtfully!) decided to look me up! We met up at Cheesman Park and then, eventually, took our little chat back to where she was staying. We hung out all afternoon and had a really, really great time!

We had such a good time, in fact, that when I’m in Chicago in a couple of weeks, she and her boyfriend are planning to swing by my hotel when I’m not working/training so that we can grab a beer!

I seriously hope to do more of this at some point. Over the past (almost!) two years, so many of you guys have become such a big part of my life—you’ve become real, genuine friends… So in the (hopefully) not-so-distant future, I would really, really, really love to do a meet-up!

 

I hope you’re all doing well. Drop me a line and tell me about your summer!

Until next time,

Eat well. Be well.

rachaelxoxo

Funny.

Fun·ny
/ˈfənē/
adjective
     1. causing laughter or amusement; humorous
     2. difficult to explain or understand; strange

 

 

If my health and weight loss journey has taught me anything thus far, it’s that life is funny.

Sometimes it’s funny in the humorous way, and sometimes it’s funny in the strange way; regardless, I don’t think it ever really stops being funny.

When I first started this journey, I wrote a long blog entry about why I’m a binge eater. I talked about how, for me, “indulging” in a binge is about satiating a need for control—about how it was borne as a direct result of my chaotic, restrictive childhood and adolescence, and how as I grew older, it became a crutch when, time and time again, my life began to feel like a derailing train.

Back in those early days of Weight Watchers, that desire for control was satiated by my meticulous measuring and weighing and counting and tracking and planning. The thing that I loved about Weight Watchers was that it afforded me that outlet I needed—the counting that the program required gave me that same rush of adrenaline that binging did.

For 10 months, that discipline and dedication I approached my Weight Watchers plan with forced the monster to lie dormant; for 10 months, I didn’t binge even once.

But then… one day the program just wasn’t enough anymore… one day, the adrenaline stopped running through my veins, and the urge to binge pulled me under and I stopped struggling—I didn’t even bother to try to keep my head above the water.

Because that’s the thing about eating disorders and addictions—sometimes no matter how hard you try, they pull you back… Sometimes that rush of adrenaline that you know is waiting for you on the other side is too hard to resist… Sometimes that fleeting feeling of a grasp of control is just too alluring…

I never really recovered from that first post-Weight Watchers binge. Since then, the number of benders I’ve gone on and the number of days and nights I’ve spent in a punishing state of food toxicity have been far too many to remember, let alone count.

Life’s funny that way…

On Tuesday night, I went out on my second date with Connor.

All day long I was in a tizzy; something was off, but I couldn’t figure out what. My best friend could feel the shift in my energy just via text message, so not long before I left for my date, she gave me a call to make sure I was alright.

I told her I wasn’t.

“I don’t know… I don’t know…. I don’t know what’s wrong. But it’s something.”

I wasn’t excited. There wasn’t even a sliver of excitement pulsing through my veins.

I got there early, and for about 10 minutes I seriously contemplated turning around and driving back home—I seriously contemplated standing him up.

But I didn’t.

He arrived right on time and gave me a hug. We walked into the restaurant and sat down at one of those half booth, half table contraptions. I asked him how his day was. I didn’t pay attention to his answer.

I started to people watch. I caught the eye of the working class, blue collar guy next to me at his own half booth, half table contraption, and I checked out his tattoos. He checked out mine. Then I caught myself thinking about how handsome he was. I smiled and looked back at Connor.

I asked dumb questions to try to ease the awkward tension floating through the air that I had managed to carry in with me. I noticed suddenly that he was left handed and made a joke about lefties being geniuses. He assured me that that was a myth.

I constantly found my mind wandering to other things. I felt like I was in the wrong place at the wrong time… My skin was crawling and I could hardly sit still.

I wanted to go home.

Instead we went to see a movie.

We sat in the very back of the theatre, and I kept my hands to myself. I alternated between watching the film (because Keanu is so funny!) and trying to collect my thoughts and “find my center.” I was glad that the movie left no more room for conversation; I’d struggled enough with that at dinner.

By the time the movie ended, I had come up with my excuses… two truths and a lie: someone from work texted me—they need me to sub tomorrow, even though it’s my day off, so I’ll need to get home…. It’s my mother’s birthday on Friday…. Mother’s Day is on Sunday…

Home. Home. Home.

He drove me back to the deserted lot where my car was parked, and I made awkward conversation for a few minutes before pretending to check a non-existent text message and then skillfully remind him that the job that I love so much required my presence early in the morning, so it was time for me to move out.

I said I’d come around to his side of the car to give him a hug goodbye—I figured that if I leaned over to hug him in the car, the chances of an awkward, unwanted goodbye kiss would be much higher.

Foiled again.

When a boy wants to kiss you, he’s going to kiss you whether it’s in the comfort of his own car or underneath a flickering streetlight in an upscale neighborhood.

Bad Katy Perry and Taylor Swift songs were looping through my brain.

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

I waited until he pulled out of his parking space before I barreled out of the parking lot, hastily opening the carry-out box I’d haphazardly thrown on the passenger side floorboard of my car earlier with one hand. I shoved the half plate remnants of my greasy, overpriced, whole-day’s-worth-of-points Chinese food down my throat by the fistful.

I pulled onto the dimly lit toll road, and with a gentle push on the gas peddle of my little two-door sports car with the turbocharged 2.4 L four-cylinder engine, I hit 105 in less than a minute, and I said a silent prayer that the Colorado State Patrol wasn’t waiting up ahead to nail me.

Then I started to cry.

I wondered aloud if I was damaged goods. I found myself quoting Rizzo’s famous “defective typewriter” line from Grease, then I began to hysterically laugh at the idea that I was using a euphemism for pregnancy to describe the torturous thoughts pulling me down into this quicksand of hysteria.

I thought about every nice thing this 21-year-old guy has done for me during the short time I’ve known him. I thought about every carefully constructed text that voiced his concern. I thought about every door he held for me, every chair he pulled out, and every chance he took when he told me little personal details about his life—especially the ones that he voiced somewhat reluctantly.

I thought about the fact that he had somehow managed to quickly become a constant in my daily routine thanks to the continuous stream of text messages we’ve been exchanging for nearly a month now.

I thought about the woman who, after one simple interaction, saw something in me that she thought was good enough for her oldest child—her very first baby… The woman who I’d learned from her son was a strict disciplinarian and a tough nut to crack… The woman who was a reflection of the young man who didn’t focus on my weight or my struggles or my very obvious blue collar upbringing.

Then I started to think of the boys of yesteryear…

The boys on the schoolyard playground that taunted me with nicknames like Tractor and Bulldozer…

The boys that cruelly singled me out in gym class simply because I garnered sympathy from our gym teacher—a man who showed me extreme amounts of kindness because he knew I was too heavy to keep up with my peers…

The very first boy I gave a piece of my heart to, the boy who I fell in love with at 13 and didn’t stop loving until I was 20, the boy who always said that I was perfect and that he hoped to someday find a girl just like me—just not me…

The first couple of guys I ever really “dated,” the guys who never commented on my weight, yet they each refused to take me out in public, out into the real world where people could see me…

The random guys on the street that cracked jokes about my weight, that felt entitled to say cruel things to a stranger that they’d never seen or spoken a word to before…

Every guy that ever slighted me or ignored my advances or made me feel like I was nothing, like I was worthless just because I wasn’t “conventionally pretty…”

Then I thought about the words I’d jokingly uttered to a male friend several weeks ago when he asked me what the deal was with women’s stereotypical attraction to the “bad boy”—what my personal attraction to that kind of guy was: “maybe I just need someone to push me in the mud.”

It was at that moment I started to wonder if I would ever be able to be in a relationship with someone who didn’t treat me poorly—someone who didn’t either openly acknowledge the flaws that I, myself, spend every waking moment focusing on or, at the very least, someone who would indirectly acknowledge them by treating me accordingly—by regaling me to the confines of the privacy of dimly lit bedrooms.

I pulled into my driveway completely unsure of how I managed to get home without wrapping my car around a lamp post or a telephone pole.

I wiped away my mascara-laden tears so I could read the text message Connor sent. “I had a great time. I can’t wait to see you again.” 

I tripped up my front steps in my haste to get to the refrigerator. Once inside, I started rummaging around for the most fattening, high calorie thing I could find, and then I remembered what was sitting in the back of my freezer, hiding behind all of my frozen fruits and vegetables, behind all of the meals I’d painstakingly planned, prepped, cooked, and froze for easy access to healthy food: an unopened pint of coconut chocolate almond gelato.

I shoved my arm to the back of my freezer and pulled it out, victorious. Then I shot off a series of rambling text messages to my closest girlfriends, alerting each of them to the fact that my night had turned terribly, terribly sour terribly, terribly fast.

As I laid on my kitchen floor, spooning the gelato into my mouth so quickly that I couldn’t even taste it, I let that all too familiar feeling of the train running off the tracks that had started to take me down right after Connor kissed me (and I shoved a thousand calories worth of Chinese food into my mouth) completely consume me.

As that binge-related adrenaline began to pump through my veins, I started to wonder how I was going to tell this boy who’d been nothing but sweet, kind, caring, and considerate to me that I had absolutely no romantic interest in him… and that that was probably because he was just too nice to me. I wondered how on earth I was going to force myself to do the same thing to him that every other guy I’d ever even remotely romantically cared for had done to me: force him into the friendzone, feed him a line that’s most likely going to upset him, and live with the fact that I turned down a perfect catch for absolutely no good reason—for something stupid and superficial.

Funny how things work out, isn’t it?

Funny how everything comes full circle.

Funny, funny, funny, funny.

 

rachaelxoxo

241.2 (again, again, again…)

Hello, hello, hello!

How are you, my friends?

Look here! It’s a Friday, and I’m ready to write! It’s been awhile since I’ve managed to be on time, but I’m here today!

Alas, I don’t come bearing good news, however. Unfortunately, my weight is up again this week:

Last Week’s Weight: 239.6 lbs.
Current Weight: 241.2 lbs.
Weekly Change: +1.6 lbs.
Total Weight Lost: 77 lbs.

I am frustrated, to say the least. I’ve been plateaued for months, and by months, I mean nearly an entire year. My weight, sadly, hasn’t really changed since August of 2015. Since then, I’ve just been juggling the same few pounds. Some of this time I’ve spent extremely dedicated, while other parts of this period have been spent knee deep in deep dish and pints of Tonight Dough.

Funny, isn’t it, that for years on end I ate like crap and ballooned up like a beluga wale, yet these days I can pretty much do what I want and just maintain my weight…

It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Go figure.

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On Fridays, I now have the pleasure of working the very meeting that I lost all of my weight (thus far) attending. It’s a pretty incredible experience to go from the heart of the meeting to the sidelines. It’s incredible to see all of the people that I’ve grown to know and love over the past 19 months hop on my scale and look at me as though I have all of the answers to life’s greatest mysteries.

That’s the thing about working for Weight Watchers: once they put you on the other side of the scale and give you that shiny name tag, things change, and they change pretty drastically. When I’m working a meeting, members don’t look at me and see the excess weight that still lingers on my frame; members look at me and see someone who knows what they’re doing—at least seemingly better than they themselves do—and they look to me for help, guidance, and understanding. They could honestly care less about the number I see on the scale each week—to them, that’s not significant whatsoever.

That’s why it’s so easy to get lost in the shuffle.

As much as I love my job, I miss being part of the group. I miss sitting down for a meeting, participating, and collecting my thoughts. I miss being on the receiving end of the help, guidance, and understanding… I miss just being a member.

Stephanie, who has been my leader throughout this process (and who is now one of my absolute favorite co-workers) knew today, I think, that I needed some extra help—that I needed to slip back into my old shoes and just be a member.

After my shift ended, I stayed back just to chat with her. We sat down with a plan guide and I told her how frustrated I was feeling and how stagnate my life felt. I told her that sometimes I feel guilty standing at the scale, preaching to our members that it’s so important to go “Beyond the Scale” and celebrate our non weight-related victories when that, personally, feels hollow to me.

Do I feel better? Yes! Do I look better and smaller? Yes! Do my clothes fit better? Yes! Am I more physically fit? Yes!

But when the scale still says 241 lbs. in spite of all of that, those other victories don’t feel as good anymore.

It’s a tough tightrope to walk.

Stephanie, over time, has become a little concerned about my plateau. Today she even asked if maybe I had some unknown medical issues rearing their ugly head. My response? Who knows.

Because Stephanie is the wonderful woman she is, though, this week she and I devised an eating plan that we’re going to try together. That’s what makes Stephanie such an incredible leader—she won’t tell any of her members to do or try something that she, herself, won’t do or try, too.

This week, we’ve decided to cut out all processed foods—nothing sugar free, fat free, or chemical-laden… nothing that’s not a whole food, and nothing that’s not as natural as we can possibly get our hands on.

I’m not sure if this is going to work, but at this point, anything is worth a try.

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Two weeks ago, I was completing some training for Weight Watchers in a town about 45 or so minutes away from my home. The meeting I was working at uses an iPad-based weigh-in system, and it was my first go around with it (hence why I needed the training).

One of the women who came to my scale wanted to re-enroll in the program, and as I fumbled around on the unfamiliar system, she was kind and patient with me. She started talking to me in an attempt to take away the obvious anxiety I felt as I watched the line of customers build up and stretch out the door behind her in response to my extremely evident deer in the headlights green-ness.

As I tried to work to re-enroll her, she told me that she reached Lifetime status back in the early ’90s (around when I was born), and how now, more than 20 years later, she’d put all of her weight (and then some) back on. She waxed poetically that she’d likely never again see her former goal weight.

She was 23 back then, and she said that she joined Weight Watchers, originally, because she needed to fit into her wedding dress. I offhandedly mentioned that I, too, was 23, and that maybe one day I’d know the pressure of having to shimmy into a gorgeous gown, too—but that that would likely be in the distant future since I didn’t even have a boyfriend, let alone a fiancé.

After a couple of deep breaths, a little more idle conversation, and a lot more fumbling, I managed to get her situated and re-enrolled, and she left me with nothing more than a charming smile and a big thank you.

Like many of my other member encounters, this was an experience I filed away pretty quickly. Meeting nice people is a wonderful part of my day, but it’s not something I tend to dwell on…

Until this past Tuesday morning anyway, when I was back at the same location to finish up my training after a week-long break.

Immediately upon arrival, I was handed a note addressed to me with a woman’s name and telephone number on it.

“What’s this?” I asked my co-worker in complete confusion.

“This woman has been looking for you!” She whisper-yelled. “She asked us last week if we would give her your phone number, but of course we couldn’t do that… So instead, she left us hers!”

I immediately scrambled to recall who this woman could possibly be. Was there a problem? Did she have a complaint? Did I have any type of conversation that could possibly have needed a follow-up?

“You’re sure she’s looking for me?” I asked. “What for?”

With a huge smile, my co-worker then leaned over to tell me that the woman said that I was “so nice and so cute” and that she was looking for me because—wait for it—she wanted to set me up with her son!

At this point I literally laughed out loud. “Me?” I asked incredulously. “You’re sure this woman was talking about me?”

“Oh yes,” my co-worker replied. “She was definitely talking about you.”

Now I’m more confused than ever. I have no idea who this could possibly be until—wait… “Is she blonde?” I asked somewhat suspiciously.

“Yes!” Another co-worker chimed in from across the room. “She’s blonde!”

“The wedding dress woman,” I said quietly. “I’ll bet my next paycheck it’s her. Huh.”

Turns out, I was right—that’s exactly who it was… And after the meeting, she approached me and asked about the note. When I said that I did, indeed, receive it, she spent 10 or so minutes trying her best to convince me that she wasn’t crazy (although, admittedly, she realized that she certainly seemed crazy), and she went on and on about how nice I was.

“I went home and told my son about you,” she said. “I mentioned that I met this really nice, really cute girl at Weight Watchers… I didn’t tell him how much weight you’ve lost or anything personal… I just said that I liked your aura.”

Something about this woman weirdly put me at ease, so I just smiled and nodded right along with her.

“I know dating is such a personal thing,” she continued, “so if you’re not interested or if you do go out with him and it doesn’t work out, I won’t be offended, and if I see you at a meeting, it won’t be weird… The thing is, I just wanted my son to have a chance with a nice girl… I just wanted him to have a chance.”

Before I really realized what I was doing, I’d written down my full name, email address, and phone number on a paper name tag and pushed it in her direction.

“I don’t live in this part of town,” I whispered shyly. “I live in Denver… Is that OK?”

“That’s OK!” She replied eagerly. “This is great! I’ll give him your number and you guys can text and set something up!”

I smiled and nodded my head, and as she walked away, my co-workers both started giggling.

I just sat there quietly for a minute and tried to remember what in the world I’d said to this woman two weeks prior to have made such an impression, but I couldn’t recall anything in particular.

I did my best to put the strange encounter out of mind and simply finish up the day as normally as possible without any expectations of what was to come. By the time I made it out to my car a little later, though, I had a text message waiting for me… Apparently this guy inherited his mother’s eagerness—which was, weirdly, kind of charming.

Connor and I have a date this week… And I’m the perfect mixture of both nervous and excited about it.

His newly 21 status makes him about 2-and-a-half years younger than me, but that thought bothers me more than it bothers him (I think his exact words were that the fact that I’m turning 24 this year “doesn’t matter”).

This whole thing is a complete oddity for people of our generation because, thanks to his mom, this is a blind date.

We’ve only sent text messages back and forth so far; neither one of us knows what the other one looks like, sounds like, whatever…

If anything, this should make a great story, right?

Stay tuned….

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I hope you’ve all had a lovely week.

Eat well. Be well.

rachaelxoxo

I’m not dead!

Holy guacamole, guys… It’s been over a month!

Anybody still out there?

I have a litany of I’m sorrys ready for you, but I don’t expect you really want to hear ’em.

I’ve gotten a little sloppy and irregular with the blog—at least compared to when I first started this little writing adventure—and I know you guys have noticed because I get emails from time to time stating such.

But life is busy, you know? A lot has happened in the last month or so—some good things, and some not-so-good things.

My weight during this period has, as usual, been up and down… and up and down!

But I’m still truckin’ right along… I’m still trying, and I can still see that light at the end of the tunnel that signals the end of this losing process and the start of a new facet of the journey—aka, maintaining a healthy weight for the rest of my life!

But, alas, we aren’t quite there yet. I’ve still got poundage to lose, so I’ve definitely not made it to the end of this particular road just yet.

So, with that said, before I give you a quick rundown of what I’ve been up to while I’ve been away, here are my weight stats:

Weigh-in #77 (aka, my last posted weight): 240 lbs.
Weigh-in #78: 241.4 lbs.
Weigh-in #79: 239.6 lbs.
Weigh-in #80: 237.8 lbs.
Weigh-in #81: 238.6 lbs.
Weigh-in #82: 240.8 lbs.
Weigh-in #83: 239.6 lbs.

Can anybody say yikes?!

Once I finally make it out of the 230s, I am vowing to never end up back here. This decade has been unusually cruel to me! It’s like some deathly sand trap that I just can’t escape from… It’s a major bummer!

But, still, I’m determined to get out of here… I just have to figure out how!

Let’s see how this week goes, shall we?!

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Now… on to bigger and better things!

Here are some of the really cool things that have happened to me since I’ve been away:

1) On March 6, 2016, I did 5K number 5: That Dam Run! It was my best time ever—and I do mean ever! By the time my Fitbit let me know I’d hit the 2 mile mark, I was only out for just over 30 minutes! Yes—you read that correctly… I did 2 miles in about 30 minutes’ time… meaning I was doing 15 minute miles! Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep it going through to the end because I was totally wiped out, but, still, I finished that race way beyond my wildest expectations:

Overall place: 419th (out of 461)
Age division place: 49th (out of 55)
Gender division place: 269 (out of 304)
Time: 52 minutes, 52 seconds 

2) I was offered (and accepted!) admission into the prerequisites/leveling program I applied to at the University of Colorado! In my last blog, I mentioned that I was incredibly anxious about my application, but, thankfully, that was all for naught. I beat out several other highly qualified candidates and was accepted into the cohort, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. This is an incredible opportunity, and it’s a major stepping stone towards achieving my dreams. Things are looking up!

3) I started working for Weight Watchers! This one isn’t actually quite so new, but I figured it was time to stop dropping hints and beating around the bush with this and just tell you all my good news! I actually had my first interview with the company on December 15th, 2015, and I was hired not long after. They let me loose into the meeting rooms (for the most part) a couple of months ago, but I’m still not entirely done with my training. I’m working as both a meeting leader and a receptionist, and while they’ve fully handed over the reception reigns, the leader handoff hasn’t been quite so easy. There’s a lot that goes into being a Weight Watchers leader (more than I think you’d probably guess), and I still have to attend a big training conference with other new leaders out of state before I’m going to be entrusted to go completely solo with my own members and my own teams. It’s a lot of responsibility for this 23-year-old, but, honestly, I love it!

As is the case with any company, there’s always office drama and weird office politics and whatnot, but at the end of the day, I love my job. I love getting to meet so many incredible people, I love to hear the stories behind weight loss and connect with members on a personal level, and I love, more than anything, that I get to “pay it forward.” Weight Watchers saved my life, and it gave me the hope that I needed in order to fix what was horribly, horribly broken in the depths of my soul… and that, truly, is why I took a job with this company. I felt like I needed to give something back to the entity that gave me back my life, and I felt, too, like I needed to reach out to people looking for honest-to-goodness help—especially those like me, those that need to lose way more than your average 20-30 lbs.

4) I’ve been getting smaller even though the scale has been doing this awful roller coaster impersonation! Look at me, look at me!

So yeah. That about covers all of the “good” in my life this past month!

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Which means, unfortunately, that it’s time to get to the not-so-good things…

My dad took a really terrible tumble down a flight of stairs after slipping on some black ice at work when a blizzard hit us a couple of weeks ago, and he was hurt pretty badly. He’s already had the first of two surgeries and will now be laid up until at least the end of June, and when I say laid up, I truly mean laid up—he’s not allowed to get out of bed except to use the bathroom or go to doctor/surgical appointments, and even then he can’t put any weight on his badly mangled leg… he has to use crutches (sparingly) or the scooter that workman’s comp sent him.

I’ve been helping out the best I can, and it’s been stressful. There’s been a lot of comfort/emotional eating occurring as a result of that, and I’ve also been eating a lot of quick and easy food, too—meaning I’ve become somewhat of a regular (again) at crappy fast food joints, convenience stores, and the frozen food aisle at my local grocery store.

My dear friend Betty (whom I’ve written about on the blog several times), is also in bad shape. The doctors have said that, at this point, we need to accept the fact that the Hodgkin’s Lymphoma is going to win this well fought battle… And that’s been a hard pill to swallow. I’m trying my best to just follow Betty’s lead with this, but it’s just a really, really sad situation all around. However, it’s Betty’s choice how she wants to spend the remainder of her life, and since she’s decided that now we need to focus on quality of life versus longevity, I have some reckoning to do.

On top of all of that, my childhood best friend of 20 years is about a month-and-a-half away from delivering her first child, and her family is, unfortunately, not providing her with all of the love and support that’s needed during this major upheaval. Because of that, I’ve promised to help her in absolutely any way that I can because, well, what else do you do when someone you’ve experienced literally all of life’s twists and turns with needs you? This, too, is a big bucket of added stress, but it is what it is. Sometimes life can break your heart in ways that you never quite imagined were possible… I guess that’s just all part of growing up.

So yeah… Easy to see why my weight has been fluctuating, huh? Life’s been quite a doozy.

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Today I went to Sam’s Club with my mom (since she and my dad have a membership and I don’t) and got a ton of healthy stuff—including more fresh fruit than I might be capable of actually eating before it spoils… but I’m going to make a valiant effort! I’m really determined to see a decent loss this week, so my plan is to amp up my fruit and veggie consumption like nobody’s business. I still have high hopes of getting out of the 200s by the time 2016 is finished, but I really need to get back on the losing train if I have any real shot at doing it.

I also need to get better about blogging, so that’s part of the plan, too. The more I write down my thoughts and reconcile what’s going on in life in this manner, the better I seem to do, overall, with my health and weight loss journey. I really need to hold myself extra, extra, extra accountable again, and I know from experience that a good way to go about doing that is to blog regularly… so expect to start hearing from me a bit more again here, and also expect me to start popping back up on your pages, too!

I hope you’re all doing well! Drop me a line and let me know how things are going.

Until next time,

Eat well. Be well.

rachaelxoxo

 

 

 

240 (sigh)

Starting Weight: 318.2 lbs.
Weight Last Week: 239 lbs.
Current Weight: 240 lbs.
Weekly Change: + 1 lb.
Total Weight Lost: 78.2 lbs.

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Hello, hello, hello!

I’m late (which tends to happen quite often these days!),  and I’m sorry.

Life is rough. Life is busy! But life is good.

I gained a pound last Friday, and, the truth is, it was warranted.

I increased my exercise big time. Weight Watchers doles out FitPoints to members daily (these are “extra” points awarded for moving more and for doing purposeful exercise), and after taking a quick assessment on the Weight Watchers mobile app or on the Weight Watchers webpage, they assign you a weekly “goal” that you’re supposed to strive to hit.

After taking my assessment, Weight Watchers set my goal to 30 FitPoints per week.

Last week, I earned 96.

That’s all fine and dandy, and it definitely is something I’m super proud of… But the thing is, I earned those points while I was desperately trying to “outrun my fork,” so to speak.

Last week, I demolished my daily points each and every day, blew through all 42 of my weeklies, and managed to scarf down every last FitPoint I earned, too… and I still ended the week at -9.

Yikes.

So I knew I was going to gain… But the thing is, it was still a really good week overall. I only made poor choices on two days last week. Yes, the choices were exceedingly poor, but it was only two days. The other five were stellar.

I also tracked every last bite, lick, and taste I took, hence why I knew that I ended the week in the negatives.

I threw everything I had into my exercise, and I worked damn hard.

And I felt good about it—even those two poorly executed days.

Life happens.

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This week, I’ve thrown myself even more into exercise.

The miles my Nikes have seen these past few days are making them weep.

My dog has actually given up on me; he’s tired of being out on the trail with me. The past few days, we’ve only made it about half of my planned distance before he quits and I actually have to take him home and then go back out on my own.

I’ve earned over 130 FitPoints so far this week… but I, again, blew through my weeklies… And my tracking hasn’t been quite as honest.

Today, after I spent over an hour out on a trail alone being literally bowled over by the horrendous wind, I went home and ate two giant, delicious dark chocolate cookies… And I didn’t track one single bite.

I looked at the 120+ FitPoints I had in my arsenal and said… Screw it. I earned it. I worked for these cookies.

I enjoyed every bite.

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I have a lot going on these days.

Within the next few weeks, I’m going to be hearing back from the University of Colorado about my application to the prerequisites/leveling program I applied to.

If I don’t get in, grad school won’t be an option… I’ll either have to bulk up my résumé and try again in a year, or I’ll have to reevaluate my life and see if there’s something else I want to pursue.

I go back and forth with myself about this daily… When I earned my Bachelor’s, I graduated summa cum laude and with distinction. I wrote an honors thesis that actually pertains to this field of study I’m trying to work my way into, and that gives me an “edge” over at least some of the competition since this isn’t something every undergraduate partakes in. The two professors I asked to write my letters of recommendation wrote me glowing reviews… And, to top it off, my GPA is well above the program’s requirement…

So I should get in, right?

I’m reeling, somewhat, from an argument I had with my dad a few weeks ago. He told me that my undergraduate degree was worthless and that I should never have studied something that required more education than a Bachelor’s.

He wants me to get my teaching certificate and be done with it—but I have no desire to teach, and I also have no desire to let my father plan my life for me when, truth be told, he didn’t do that great of a job planning his own.

I’m worried that if I don’t get into this program, I’ll have to listen to him say I told you so.

Sometimes I worry into a box of chocolates. And then I exercise until near collapse.

I need to find a balance and find a new way to handle stress.

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My new job (that I can’t wait to tell you all about soon!) is sending me on a business trip in April, and I’ll admit, free and clear, that my new obsession with exercise is related to that.

I’m worried about fitting into an airplane seat… And being comfortable… And not being a bother to other passengers because I’m too big.

I’m also worried about what I’m going to be walking into once I arrive at my destination. I don’t want to have to explain my weight or appearance to anyone… And once I let the cat out of the bag and tell you all about my new job, you’ll understand, I think, why this is such a serious concern for me.

I want to be down about 10-12 lbs., if possible, by the time I leave for my business trip.

If I can stop trying to outrun my fork, I think this is doable.

I just have to pull it together.

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I hope you’re all doing well.

If there are any lurkers out there, drop me a line… There are several of you out there that I am desperately missing and wondering about… If you’ve “fallen off the wagon” or whatever, that doesn’t matter to me… I’d just like to know how you are. Write me an email (you can do that here) if you don’t feel like commenting… Lately, several of you have been doing that, and I’m very appreciative!

I wish you a wonderful week. I’ll try my best to write on Friday… If not, I’ll be back to write this weekend!

Until next time,

Eat well. Be well.

rachaelxoxo

 

 

 

 

 

241.4

 

Starting Weight: 318.2 lbs.
Weight Last Week: 240.8 lbs.
Current Weight: 241.4 lbs.
Weekly Change: +0.6 lbs.
Total Weight Lost: 76.8 lbs.

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Hi, friends.

Whelp—another week, another gain.

I’m really beginning to hate this mantra!

Take a quick gander at just how long I’ve been playing this game:

Weigh-in #48: 08/07/2015 — 242.8 lbs. (weekly change = –2.6 lbs.)
Weigh-in #49: 08/14/2015 — 241.8 lbs. (weekly change = –1.0 lbs.)
Weigh-in #50: 08/21/2015 — 243.4 lbs. (weekly change = +1.6 lbs.)
Weigh-in #51: 08/28/2015 — 241.8 lbs. (weekly change = –1.6 lbs.)

Weigh-in #52: 09/04/2015 — 239.6 lbs. (weekly change = –2.2 lbs.)
Weigh-in #53: 09/11/2015 — 238.8 lbs. (weekly change = –0.8 lbs.)
Weigh-in #54: 09/18/2015 — 241.2 lbs. (weekly change = +2.4 lbs.)
Weigh-in #55: 09/25/2015 — 240.8 lbs. (weekly change = –0.4 lbs.)

Weigh-in #56: 10/02/2015 — 240.8 lbs. (weekly change =   0.0 lbs.)
Weigh-in #57: 10/09/2015 — 240.2 lbs. (weekly change = –0.6 lbs.)
Weigh-in #58: 10/16/2015 — 240.4 lbs. (weekly change = +0.2 lbs.)
Weigh-in #59: 10/23/2015 — 239.0 lbs. (weekly change = –1.4 lbs.)
Weigh-in #60: 10/30/2015 — 237.2 lbs. (weekly change = –1.8 lbs.)

Weigh-in #61: 11/06/2015 — 236.6 lbs. (weekly change = –0.6 lbs.)
Weigh-in #62: 11/13/2015 — 238.6 lbs. (weekly change = +2.0 lbs.)
Weigh-in #63: 11/20/2015 — 242.4 lbs. (weekly change = +3.8 lbs.)
Weigh-in #64: 11/27/2015 — 238.0 lbs. (weekly change = –4.4 lbs.)

Weigh-in #65: 12/04/2015 — 241.2 lbs. (weekly change = +3.2 lbs.)
Weigh-in #66: 12/11/2015 — 240.8 lbs. (weekly change = –0.4 lbs.)
Weigh-in #67: 12/18/2015 — 241.4 lbs. (weekly change = +0.6 lbs.)

 

In the grand scheme of things, I guess I’m kind of, sort of doing “OK.” As of this instant, I haven’t truly “fallen off the wagon” or “gone off the rails.” Subconsciously, I know my limits—it’s very obvious that I know exactly what I can “get away with” in order to keep yo-yoing these couple of pounds to, essentially, maintain my weight.

If I’m honest and I really and truly think about my weight loss journey over the course of these past 15 months, I know that I’ve lost a lot of my gusto in these latter days—I know that I’m no longer trying as hard as I used to try… or being as careful as I used to be.

For example… Last Friday, I went out for linner (lunch/dinner) with my dad to a Vietnamese restaurant and ordered a shrimp spring roll with peanut sauce and Bun Tom Nuong (a bowl of vermicelli rice noodles topped with marinated grilled shrimp, fresh lettuce, sliced cucumber, carrots, crushed peanuts, and special house dressing)—and I devoured all of it.

The next day after my college graduation, my family took me out to the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company for lunch, and I had some fried calamari, a fried shrimp po’boy, half an order of French fries, and two rum-based mixed drinks called Lava Chillers that were probably most closely comparable to a Mudslide.

The rest of the week, I sort of just ate what I wanted—within my limits, of course.

Some days I tracked, some days I didn’t.

Some days I followed PointsPlus, some days I tried really hard to follow the new SmartPoints program.

Some days I watched my sugar intake, some days I let the bag of Planters Turtle Sundae trail mix get the best of me.

The thing is… I’m just tired—tired of counting everything, tired of always having to be so damn careful, and tired of never actually getting the chance to enjoy my food anymore!

And if you look at my weigh-ins for the past couple of months, I think it’s pretty obvious just how tired I am.

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My favorite thing about Weight Watchers has always been the freedom it’s afforded. Weight Watchers’ selling point used to be that you could “eat whatever you wanted” and still lose weight, and that has always, always, always appealed to me.

Because here’s the thing—there are some things I’m just not willing to give up, and that’s the truth of the matter.

If someone told me, for example, that I could lengthen my life by 5 whole years if I never had another slice of pizza, I wouldn’t budge—I’d continue to eat pizza in varying frequencies, and at the end of my life, I’d be content with my decision… truly.

I know that that really makes me sound like the addict that I am, but what can I say? I’m not throwing away all of life’s pleasures just to be skinny—I’m not.

Am I willing to make changes? You bet’cha. Am I willing to clean up my diet—eat more fruits and veggies, stay away from mammals as far as protein consumption goes, and work to make sure my plates are balanced? Without a doubt! What about even occasionally working in some exercise? Absolutely!

But am I willing to give up all of my favorite foods or stop eating cake on my birthday or refuse to eat at certain restaurants because they don’t really have plan-friendly things? No. No, I am not willing to do that.

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Before I turned to Weight Watchers, I was prepped and ready to get gastric surgery. I had lost all hope that I was going to be able to do this myself, and I thought that the only real way for me to get my weight under control would be to have some sort of limiting, physical mechanism that would literally prevent me from continuing to eat the way that I was eating.

However, the more research I started to do about gastric intervention, the more convinced I became that that wasn’t the right choice for me.

As most of you know, I am in my early twenties—I was only 21-years-old at the time I was researching gastric surgeries—and to limit myself that drastically, to make it so that I would never have even the slightest chance at being “normal” ever again in my life, seemed absolutely crazy to me.

No more this, no more that; you have to eat this, then that; liquids here, protein there; yada, yada, yada.

At 21 (and even now, a week before turning 23), that didn’t appeal to me; basically the last thing I wanted was to give food that much control over my life…

When you’re addicted to food (as I am) and when you have an eating disorder (as I do), food controls your life, without a doubt… But, as far as I’m concerned, addiction and eating disorders are things that can be beaten, controlled, and worked around with enough time, patience, and diligence—gastric surgery and all that that entails food-wise isn’t something that’s to be “worked around,” though… gastric surgery is the end all, be all, and there’s not a lot of wiggle room there… and I’m a person that needs wiggle room.

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Which brings me to SmartPoints and Weight Watchers’ desire to go Beyond the Scale…

This new program is not my cuppa tea—and I’m so very, very disappointed that that’s the case.

I will say this first, though: I absolutely, positively love the idea of going Beyond the Scale because that’s the one thing that I always thought Weight Watchers needed to work on—celebrating those Non-Scale Victories that are such an awesome, motivating, rewarding part of all health and weight loss journeys.

So, for that, I’m grateful because I think that that is, without a doubt, a step in the right direction…

But SmartPoints? Oh man…

The general idea behind SmartPoints is to eat little to no added sugar or saturated fats and, instead, increase your protein intake big time.

Items high in fat or sugar that were once reasonable point-wise are now sky high, impossible options. Items super high in protein that were once hard to fit into your day because of their point total are now next to nothing: case in point, a whole pound of cooked shrimp is now just 7 SmartPoints.

On PointsPlus, everyone had the same number of extra weekly points: 49. Now, each person’s weeklies are individually calculated, and we’re all all over the board.

On the PointsPlus program, I got 39 points per day, plus 49 extra points per week. Now on SmartPoints, I get 41 points per day, plus 42 extra points per week.

I know, I know—you’re probably thinking, Rachael, your points are great! This doesn’t affect you!

Wrong.

Almost everything I used to eat daily has doubled, if not tripled, in point values. My coffee went from 3PPV to 6SPV; my yogurt went from 4PPV to 8-12SPV, depending upon the flavor; my 1% milk went from 3PPV to 4SPV, my almond milk from 3PPV to 6SPV; and don’t even get me started on my cereal or my oatmeal.

Yesterday I had 1 cup—8 ounces—of cinnamon eggnog for a whopping 17SPV. My Planters Turtle Sundae trail mix? 20SPV for a measly 3 oz.

I’m feeling deprived because of these changes, and I’m jonesing for sugar.

The days when I really do try to follow SmartPoints, I’ve found myself so, so hungry. And if I “indulge,” half my day is wiped out in the blink of an eye.

It’s hard, and it’s frustrating… And it makes me feel like I’m on a diet.

Instead of planning how to live my life, SmartPoints makes me feel like I’m just planning how to drop the weight; it doesn’t feel sustainable, and it doesn’t feel realistic.

In my heart of hearts, I know that I won’t be able to do this forever—I don’t have the will, drive, or desire, and I’m not alone. There’s chatter coming from every direction—at the meetings, out in the blogosphere, on social media, and even within the Weight Watchers staff… This is too much, it’s too restrictive, and it’s much harder to navigate.

I’ll admit that I am being a massive downer and that I’m spewing a lot of negativity right now, but this is me being completely honest with you: I don’t like the new plan so far—I just don’t.

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Right now, I’ve done two full days of really on-track SmartPoints eating, and while I’m proud of myself for giving the program my all, I’m disappointed in how I’m feeling: as I’m writing this, my stomach is growling incessantly—something I’ve found to be a constant problem.

I’ve overloaded myself with protein, and it’s doing nothing for me other than making me crave a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a big, greasy pizza.

I’m willing to give this a try for the week—to put forth my all and stick to the SmartPoints plan like glue… But as for the long run, I’m not sure exactly what I’m going to do. If this isn’t something I can make work for the rest of my life, then, unfortunately, I may have to try something else that will work because that is what I am most concerned with—finding a dietary plan that’s sustainable.

I am hoping more than anything that Weight Watchers is something I can continue to navigate, though… Because I truly do owe them my life.

So here’s to hoping.

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I hope you’ve all had a wonderful week.

I’ll be back with a weigh-in update on Thursday since Friday is Christmas Day and Weight Watchers will be closed.

I hope that the days leading up to the holiday are wonderful for each of you!

Eat well. Be well.

rachaelxoxo

 

 

 

242.4 … and an Apology and Thanksgiving Ramblings!

Starting Weight: 318.2 lbs.
Last Posted Weight: 236.6 lbs.
Weigh-in #62 Weight: 238.6 lbs.
Weekly Change: +2 lbs.
Weigh-in #63 Weight: 242.4 lbs.
Weekly Change: +3.8 lbs.
Total Weight Lost: 75.8 lbs.

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Hello, my dear friends, and happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans!

I don’t want to ramble on too much about my weight because, honestly, that’s not what I want to focus on today, of all days, but I owe you an update (and an apology!) after leaving you hanging for two weeks, so here it is, plain and simple: I messed up.

That’s pretty apparent, I think, from the aforementioned weight stats.

This is, obviously, not the first time I’ve gained a couple of pounds; all you have to do is take a gander at my weigh-in page and you’ll see that I’ve had my fair share of small gains over the course of the past almost-15-months.

But this? This was the result of excessive binging.

Last week, when I managed to gain almost 4 lbs., I went absolutely, positively off the rails. I ate whatever I wanted, and that’s no exaggeration. I ate fast food whenever I wanted; one day I even had it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I had ice cream bars, ice cream cake, candy bars, Diet Coke, donuts, chips—you name it, I probably ate it.

And although it’s not a good excuse, here’s why I did what I did:

My dog, Charlie Brown, has been very, very sick. He’s been in and out of the hospital due to something called hemorrhagic gastroenteritis (which I think I mentioned, somewhat briefly, in my last post). I thought he’d recovered, but almost as soon as I ran out of his allotted amount of medication and started to ween him back onto his dry kibble, things took a turn for the worse and we ended up having to start all over.

I racked up over $2,000 worth of vet bills, plus there is the added expense of now having to indefinitely buy prescription food for him that’s running about $100 per month… Not to mention the fact that I’m in the final weeks of my undergraduate career and am preparing for finals and graduation within the next two weeks, too… So I was (am?) stressed, to say the least.

And I got tired of counting—of having to try so hard to keep things together. I am addicted to food, and I have an eating disorder that I am trying so, so hard to recover from… and when I went on this bender last week, all I could think was, “I missed this so much, and this is way, way, way too enjoyable.”  I imagine that how I felt last week is exactly how a drug addict would feel after being sober for a decent amount of time and then, stupidly, allowing themselves to take a hit. It was a dangerous sort of pleasure… I knew I was in a world of trouble, but I just kept going; I was too far gone, at that point, to stop myself.

The point is: I still struggle… and I will probably struggle for the rest of my life. I almost think these days are more difficult than the beginning of my journey, honestly… But it’s hard to tell.

I’m up about 6 lbs. right now, but this week has been a pretty good one, so I’m hopeful that the scale will show something in my favor tomorrow.

Even though it’s hard to do, I know that it’s essential that I move on from these past two weeks. What happened, happened. I can’t move forward if I’m looking backwards, and I can’t move forward if I continue to beat myself up and belittle everything else that I’ve done to get me to this point—which, by the way, is still nearly 76 lbs. lighter than I was just 15 months ago.

Which is still a huge accomplishment.

So that’s all I have to say about that.

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Today is Thanksgiving here in the states, and, so far, mine hasn’t made the top five.

It’s hard to be the only one in your family who really and truly cares about health—which is a bummer if your family is like mine, meaning the majority of them are overweight/obese.

My dad threw his portion of my lightened up party potatoes in the trash, complained about my open-faced, healthy honey apple pie, and bated me into a heated conversation about my life-long struggle with my weight (which, apparently, he played no part in—please note my sarcasm here).

I have to come to terms with the fact that my family is never going to take their health seriously—that’s just the sad fact of the matter. My uncle (the one staying with me) is a diabetic, and he makes absolutely no attempt to control that or change his diet to improve his health, and he also finds time to argue with me at every turn about what is and is not healthy. My dad is pushing 300 lbs. and looks like he could have a heart attack at any moment, and all the man does is eat; he eats when he’s bored, he eats when something is “just too good to pass up,” he eats even when he doesn’t really like something—that’s just who he is.

My mother is, surprisingly, pretty supportive, but she’s not crazy about my healthy food either (and if she eats something she doesn’t like, she has no problem letting me know)… However, she never makes comments about my weight, and she never baits me with food or criticizes my choices. She’s pretty mum about it all, and she tells my dad to knock it off if he starts to get out of hand with the whole issue, so I think she probably agrees with me on some level but just refuses to say it aloud herself—probably because it’s simply easier to stay silent.

But it’s hard for me. I am headstrong and sensitive, and I don’t respond well to criticism—whereas criticism motivates some people because they have this “I’m going to prove you wrong!” attitude, for me it’s different… I carry those comments with me forever, and they always plant a seed of doubt.

But oh well.

This Thanksgiving, I have so much to be thankful for.

This time last year, I weighed in on Black Friday at 288.4 lbs. I’d lost a grand total of 29.8 lbs. on my health journey at that point, and I still looked huge—no one aside from my dear friend, Scott, noticed that I’d lost any weight.

My first weigh-in of November this year (before I messed up) saw me at my lowest adult weight of 236.6 lbs.—which means, even with my 6 lb. gain, I still weigh around 50 lbs. less this year than I did last year!

My sweet Charlie Brown seems to be on the mend, so his puppy kisses and snuggles that are the very best part of each and every one of my days are things I will, hopefully, get to continue to enjoy for years to come.

Some of my incredible friends started a GoFundMe page that raised over $1,400 to help me with Charlie’s veterinary bills.

I am graduating summa cum laude from the University of Colorado in 16 days, and yes—that does make me hotter by one degree, in case you were wondering!

I have a roof over my head, food on my table, and people that love me.

So why do I bother complaining? And why do I let the negativity get to me?

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I hope you’re all doing well and that you had wonderful, happy, joyous Thanksgiving celebrations.

I’ll be back tomorrow with this week’s weigh-in results.

Eat well. Be well.

rachaelxoxo

 

 

241.2

Starting Weight: 318.2 lbs.
Last Weigh-in Weight: 239.6 lbs.
Last Week’s Weight: 238.8 lbs.
Weekly Change: –0.8 lbs.
Current Weight: 241.2 lbs.
Weekly Change: +2.4 lbs.
Total Weight Lost: 77 lbs.

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Hi, friends.

Is anybody out there?!

My blog has recently gone quiet, as have the blogs of many of my fellow weight loss companions. Have you all been having the same sorts of problems as me? Have you lost your motivation? Have you run out of encouraging words to spew?

These last few months have been really, really hard—maybe the hardest of my entire life. Since the first week of May, I’ve been on an up and down roller coaster with my weight, and I’ve definitely lost my way somewhat. I am stumbling much more these days than I was in the early days, and it’s pretty terrifying. I’ve lost much of my gusto—much of my will and determination that was so plentiful in the beginning…

And, to top it off, I haven’t felt much like blogging.

Truthfully, I haven’t felt much like doing anything that’s really beneficial to my health and wellbeing.

The things that were so incredibly beneficial to me in the beginning of my journey have almost totally fallen to the wayside… And I’m truthfully not sure how to turn this around. I feel like I’m trapped on a sinking ship (the same analogy I used two weeks ago), and a big part of me just wants to go down without a fight.

I’m tired.

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Last week was my rebirthday—my one year anniversary with Weight Watchers. I didn’t manage to lose a full 80 lbs., but I came pretty darn close at 79.4 lbs. lost.

It was a happy day, and I felt good about my success.

I shared my success story with Weight Watchers Colorado, and more than 300 people reached out to me via social media to talk about my progress. It was incredibly inspiring, and it made me feel good about myself.

Not good enough to starve off several major binges—binges that led to me blowing through all 49 of my weeklies and ending up taking me into the negatives—but still good, I guess.

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This last week was horrible. It was, by far, my worst week on Weight Watchers to date. I ate 13 PPV ice cream treats that went untracked. Seafood salad that was loaded with mayo. A restaurant tuna melt that was the size of my face, which I washed down with a margarita. Pizza. Pasta. Chocolate. Half a package of Oreo thins. An entire loaf of garlic bread with a PPV of about 23. The list goes on.

I knew exactly what I was doing, and I had absolutely no regard for my own wellbeing whatsoever.

It’s a miracle that I only gained 2.4 lbs. this week; I was expecting several more pounds due to the sodium alone.

I wasn’t embarrassed or upset by what I’d done until this morning when I went to weigh-in at Weight Watchers. The staff was expecting me to hit 80 lbs. down today, and I think they were just as disappointed, if not more so, than I was that I had a gain. When my leader, Stephanie, asked me what was different about this week, I made up a story because I was too embarrassed to cop to the fact that after all of my nonsensical spewing of inspiration the week before to Weight Watchers Colorado, I went on a bender to end all benders.

It was horrifying, and my thoughts turned fairly dark at the meeting.

I expressed my concerns and vented my problems to my peers, and while their words were nice and as supportive as always, for the first time they weren’t helpful at all. Nothing that was said today was enough to pull me out of my funk.

I’ve managed to get that far off the beaten path, I guess.

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Yesterday I went to the Denver Art Museum to see their latest exhibit, “In Bloom,” and it was wonderful. I had an amazing time, and I found myself very, very happy to be there. It was great “me time.” I love art—viewing it and creating it—so art shows are a lot of fun for me.

The day was perfect except for one thing: I had trouble walking.

As I trekked multiple floors of the museum and walked in and out of rooms and up and down stairs, I was sweating and huffing and puffing and I actually had to sit down and rest several different times. I spent the majority of the day there at the museum, and I figure that in between all of my resting and stops to actually view the artwork, I walked for a good two hours.

But it was hard work.

It’s obvious that I’ve really let myself get out of shape again, even though I’ve still continued to lose weight.

I need to work on this, but, again, I’ve lost the motivation.

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The reality of the situation is, I’ve been doing this for a full year now, and I’ve hit an emotional plateau. I’ve said from the get-go that having my mind right is an equally important part of this process, and my mind checked out months ago.

I’m not ready to quit just yet, but I am incredibly frustrated and discouraged.

I feel angry and upset with myself, but I’m going to continue on anyway.

Words of wisdom and encouragement are of no help to me right now. The only one who can help me is me, and I need to figure out how to get back on track and pull my life together again.

It’s going to be hard, but it’s something I’ve got to do.

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I hope you’re all doing well. I miss our interactions, and I miss reading your blogs. If you’re out there, drop me a line and let me know how you are. Are you struggling like me?

Eat well. Be well.

rachaelxoxo