My Weekend War

I am stalled at 47lbs lost. People who see me a lot ask if I’m still losing but I haven’t lost anything in about a month or so. That’s not quite to my halfway point and I am getting frustrated. I can’t say that I’m following my plan perfectly or even that it’s not my fault. I’m a cheater. Sometimes it’s something small like a cookie at an open house and sometimes it’s a tad bit bigger like the Golden Corral buffet. All of it. That dessert bar should be illegal. In all seriousness, if cigarettes come with a warning label chocolate pie should too. I know I shouldn’t but I’m a weekender. When Friday comes I’m hungry. Not just hungry, I’m like a zombie…one track mind. Only in my case it isn’t brains I need, it’s fattening food. Strangest thing ever. I think I have an addictive personality. I’ve never been an alcoholic or a drug addict. Well there was a time when some Chinese herb diet pills were my jam. My hand to God I could feel my hair grow and see sounds when I took them. Finally realizing that I shouldn’t need to have the energy of a squirrel on crack, I put them down and never looked back. I’ve been addicted to songs, sports, people, activities, routine and so on. Here’s a good one, I’ve been addicted to make up before. Not wearing it all at once, Tammy Faye Baker style, but owning it. Again, all of it. I wore nearly the same look every day too so that meant I had 35 of the same shade of brown eye shadow in a basket on my bathroom. I owned the same amount of brown eyeliners, nude lip pencils and every shade of nude and pink lipstick you could imagine. They were close to duplicates, but I had them. AHHHHHH my basket of beauty. Good times. But throughout my life my most pure addiction has been food. Sweet, sweet food. I use the denial of it as a punishment on myself for things going wrong and a reward for things going right. I crave sweet, salty…you name it. In my quest to find what won’t make me want to eat so much I believe I’ve found it. Thanks to my friend Kerie, I’m doing kick boxing 2 times a week and a strength class 2 times a week. It’s fun but punishing. The days of looking forward to basketball practice even though I knew there was a chance of running suicides until I puked are long over. I’m starting at level zero. My push ups are against the wall. I can’t do them on the floor yet because my arms have the strength of boneless hams. My burpees are so hideous, I pity the person behind me. Sit ups….ugh. They are hilarious. I have to try not to laugh at myself. I’m there though and fighting through. I am my own thunderstorm and I rain sweat while I’m there, but I’m present. The true bonus is that it’s putting me closer to my bucket list item of punching someone in the face. I know it’s strange, but I’ve never been in a fight. I’ve never even punched my sister in the face. God knows I’ve wanted to but she was always so scrawny I took pity on her.  I was showing my husband a self defense move the other night and cracked him in the jaw with my elbow. I should have felt bad about it and I kind of did because he wasn’t expecting it. Anyone who knows him knows he’s been in fights with tougher people than me so I’m sure he’ll live. The surprise was how cool making that connection was. I’m not saying that I’m going to hit Paul every chance I get, but I bet he’s not so lippy now. BOOM! Here comes the hammer!! Kidding, Paul. What I’m saying is that I’m enjoying it. I like feeling stronger and I love waking up the athlete that’s still in me somewhere. I know that I’m going, because they are awesome and expect me to be there. I also know it will be hard so I’m not as tempted to over eat, because what’s the point of the classes/near death experience if not to make me stronger and healthier? I’ve worked out (counting tonight) 3 days and 4 classes. From nothing to THAT has been a challenge, but so very worth it. The weekend is coming. Friday is right there, so close I can touch it. But now my goal will be to enjoy the weekend and not eat it.

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I got me a swimsuit….

Last Saturday my sister called pretty early in the morning. I sat on the porch listening to the fastest talker this side of the Mississippi. Believe it or not, listening to her talk at the speed of light isn’t as stressful as it may sound. There have been times that the constant speed of her speaking has lulled me right to sleep. Just kidding, it’s the never ending list making she does that knocks me out. Anyway,  she mentions to me that she and her boyfriend are going to spend the day at the pool. I think to myself…hey that sounds nice and I have no plans so I quickly and very smoothly I might add, invite myself. It WORKS! We are going to spend the day laying out and soaking up the sun. Then I remember, I’ve lost 46lbs and my husband has lost 51. We don’t have swimsuits that fit. At this point we are on a mission. We have exactly 1 hour to get out the door and get to Wal-Mart to buy a suit. What I haven’t told you yet is that we are going to a pretty fancy neighborhood pool. The average income is, um, let’s just say really high. This isn’t the pool where Wal-Mart suits will be all the rage. That’s when the anxiety kicks in. OMG!!! I’m going to find a discount swimsuit in around 20 minutes and spend the day at the pool with the ladies who actually make time for the gym and eat well and spend more than $20 bucks on a suit. CRAP! CRAPPITY, CRAP!!

We rush through getting ready at the house and then pull up to get the suits. We make a plan in the car and head in. My husband is to go pick something for himself and I’m going straight to the ladies suits. What a freaking mess!! There are so many to choose from and I don’t even know what size I wear anymore. I decided that I would go with a 16-18 suit. That’s good for me since the last suit I bought was a 24W. I hit the dressing room with about 20 items to try on. I am raining sweat at this point. I put the first few on and it was not good. They fit but pulling a lycra swimsuit on over a sweaty body isn’t something I would recommend. The air in that dressing room was thick with frustration and desperation. It was also cold in the store and I was sweating from swimsuit anxiety so I think I was creating my own weather system. Attention Wal-Mart shoppers, we have a tornado warning in ladies wear. Please watch the skies and take cover immediately. You should know that most of this occurred with my husband dutifully standing in ladies wear holding the suit that it took him 30 seconds to pick out. UGH! After the 12th suit I found one. It’s cute. It fits and the bottom to it doesn’t have a skirt. I consider this a victory.

Off we go to the snotty pool with what I’m assuming will be snotty women. We pull in and my sister takes me to the bathroom so that I can change. I get the suit on and she showers me with compliments. She’s my soulmate so that’s what she does. She knows I’m working hard and she could tell I was anxious. She’s good like that. As we head out into the bright sunlight I have my ah-ha moment. I see women in faded suits, skirted bottoms, cheap suits ( I know this because I had just tried it on at Wal-Mart) and shorts. All the while tugging at them and fidgeting. They were just as body conscious as I was and the majority of them had no reason to be. I had wasted all morning and disturbed the Wal-Mart weather pattern for no reason!! No one was there to judge me and I wasn’t there to judge them. What a relief!! Next time when that nagging voice says, “No, Mindy, people will stare!!” I won’t listen. Shamelessly wear the swimsuit y’all and enjoy your day in the sun!!!

It all started with a mint julep

Let me ‘splain. Last Friday was a big event in our county. It was the Walton Derby. Floral dresses, big hats, high heels and horses. A good time was had by all, I assure you. I was headed to the event as an ambassador for our chamber of commerce but I still wanted to look the part. Having lost 42lbs (58 to go) I decided I would find me a cutie patootie dress and make my hat as huge as possible. I found the dress which with the help of the most ungodly spanx in the tri-county area fit me great. The big win was that I didn’t buy it in the plus size area. I found it in the “regular” size side of the store. A scary place that I haven’t ventured through in quite some time. So, I get the dress and buy every fake flower I can get my hands on and hot glue the hell out of my hat. When I arrived at the event I was feeling pretty fly. Other than having to decide whether to hold my hat on or my dress down in the wind, my look was slick. One delightful woman asked me if I got my hat in the cemetery but I didn’t know her so I thought she just must be special and super lovely. I’m not sure if the sarcasm font is working but please read the previous line with a snarky look on your face. Thanks. Apparently, the drink of the night is a mint julep. Not only did I swear off brown liquor in my 20’s due to an unfortunate incident involving quarters, Jack Daniels and Marlboro Lights, but I also haven’t had sugar in about 12 weeks. I’m not sure if you are aware but those are the 2 main ingredients of a mint julep. Brown liquor and simple syrup (sugar). So I had one, and then another and then somehow I found myself in the bar-b-que line. Then I ate cobbler…COBBLER!!! OHHHHH I didn’t stop there, while fielding compliments and telling folks about my hard work losing my 42lbs I was off the rails as far as eating goes. I kept going for 4 freaking days. I stuffed my face. I’ll repeat that. I stuffed my mother trucking face y’all. I even sunk so low that I bought a box of cookies and a People magazine and sat in the car enjoying the quiet, the cookies and the article on Kate Middleton. Let me just tell you, this was a low 4 days but I felt like I couldn’t stop. This is where it gets interesting. Not that hearing me describe my horrible eating isn’t interesting but you know, gotta keep the story moving. For the first time in my entire life I have come clean about my eating. I came clean to my husband about it. He’s lost well over 40 at this point and he’s such a great guy that I don’t even hate him for losing more than I have. I’m proud. I’m telling y’all coming clean to him about my binge eating was tough. Telling him I have a boyfriend would have been easier. I don’t have one, but if I did, no sweat compared to this shame. I did it though and now I start fresh. As I write this my youngest love is eating a grilled cheese and my oldest pumpkin in eating fried chicken and I want to punch them both in the face and steal their food. I won’t, but the cravings are that real. I’m still on my journey and I know that a lot of you have reached out saying that I’m inspiring you to keep going. Well I’m here to say that I’m glad that I inspire you, but remember I’m human and so are you!! We will stumble and we will fall but we have to always make sure we get back up and get back on track. I’ll weigh again in 2 weeks and hopefully I’ll be losing again by that point. Seriously though, I’m not sorry for the cookies or the mint julep. I learned a great big lesson about humility and my food addiction. Until I write again, remember, hugs not Ho Hos. I promise, I’ll remember too.

Let’s talk about the “S” word…..

I bet y’all were thinking I was going to blog about sex, am I right? You dirty minded rascals! I like you. No the “s” word I’m talking about today is size. Clothing sizes, you sickos! I decided that as a reward and a way to get through the summer with my shrinking body I would get some sundresses. Breezy cute and a maybe a little bit sexy sundresses. So while stalking folks on Facebook I found an ad for some super cheap ones. My first thought was HELL YES!  These are the cutest dresses and the price…can you say blue light special!? I recognize that I should have been alarmed at the price of $3.99 per dress. Yeah, sometimes my small town shows. I went for it. I thought, well let’s see I wear an XL now. That’s a far cry from the 3xl I wore during football season last year. I won’t call it a tent or put myself down about ever needing a shirt that size. Don’t you worry. If the worst thing anyone can ever say about me is that at one point I wore a 3xl then I’m doing ok. I’m aware that I’m sure worse has been said, but I could give a rats ass about what anyone says bout me. That stems from the dog treat incident of 1985.  A delightful little story for another day.  Moving on. I decided that if I go ahead and order an xl it should get me through the summer even if I lose another 20lbs. So I do it. I order 3 $3.99 dresses. That’s right, in my pumpkin head I’m thinking that the world is full of suckers that don’t know where to find the deals. I am magical!! I’ve found the cutest and cheapest clothes ever. Full price paying shoppers don’t have the smarts I have. So I place the order and wait…….

and wait……..

and wait………OH!! DHL Tracking number!

and wait………USPS tracking number. OMG! Customs? From China!!! NOOOOOOO!!!

I don’t say that because, you know…’Merica! I say that because their clothes are TINY! I begin to panic and start doing complicated sizing math in my head. OK, Mindy…you’re in an XL now so if you divide the size of your ass with the circumference of your thighs  and you carry the 2 this will fit. No worries, you should be ok. So I take a little weekend get away with my husband and when I get home there it is my package from China. It’s an envelope. That’s correct. Not a box, but a freaking envelope containing 2 dresses. I ordered 3 so already a problem. I open the envelope and pull out 2 dresses that are as thin as paper. They are tiny. I mean, seriously tiny. I would guess that they are an american medium. All I can think about is the poor Chinese woman who is this skinny and still considered an XL. That’s not me though. I’m a Wal-Mart Xl and I.am. pissed. Then I start too think abut it. Motivation can come in the strangest ways. I know I need a push sometimes and these cheap ass dresses are it.  I now have 2 goal dresses for the low low price of $3.99 each. By next summer I’ll be kicking ass in my paper thin Chinese teeny weeny sun dresses. That’s the best money I’ve spent in a long time.

 

Oh hey y’all!! I’m back!

It’s been a hot minute since I blogged and I promise I have my reasons. Are they good reasons? Nope, probably not. Let’s get updated, shall we? I’m doing well, still a Realtor and working with an amazing local magazine as their account executive. I’m still active in the community, I won’t name everything I’m involved in because it makes me tired. I love every single minute of it though. I have completely changed directions and have decided that I will not be having bariatric surgery. I still see nothing wrong with it but I had no insurance and finally got sick of waking up everyday no thinner than the day before. I’ve been following a pretty solid way of eating and have now lost 37lbs. My goal right now is a loss of 120lbs. So basically I want to lose the same as my 11y/o weighs. That  just might be the last time I type that because that makes it seem like a huge number.

Getting the ball rolling mid January on the weight loss was, how shall I put this? Oh I know, SHITTY it was super duper shitty! I actually met a friend for coffee in the beginning and had to admit that I wasn’t able to carry my check cards around for fear of buying something to eat. That’s a freaking class A addiction. I don’t know if class A addiction is a thing but we’re going with it. Some nights the cravings were so bad I would go to bed at 8pm. I would drink a sprite zero pretend it was a milkshake and go to bed. If you’re planning on following my lead here, that doesn’t work. It’s still Sprite Zero no matter how hard you try and use the force to change it. Yoda would be so ashamed. It started to work though. Not the milk shake part, but the way of eating. The weight started coming off. Not really fast, but a smidge each day. The way I see it, as long as the scale is staying the same or going down I’m doing good. I don’t keep track of how fast I lose. That’s a silly thing to do. When you were gaining did you ever tell a friend “I am ecstatic!!! My ass has grown to the point I can only wear elastic waist pants now and the best part is I did it in only 6 weeks!!!” Hell no you didn’t! I know I didn’t. That weight snuck up on me like my kids trying to steal my last Sprite Zero. Stealthy. So I decided to turn down the heat in the pressure cooker and realize that I will be doing this for the rest of my life. Scary but true.

I know that I will not be able to eat a huge bowl of pasta or that steamy warm loaf of bread that they bring to your table at restaurants. It’s ok y’all, get your hands off the keyboard! I know all of the things you’re going to say….”you can eat anything in moderation. It’s all about portion control, you can’t think like that, you’ll have those things again after you lose the weight. If you deprive yourself you’ll binge.” Let me ‘splain. I am an addict. I am addicted to carbs and all of their glory. I need to treat them like they are heroin. The answer is no. I can’t eat them in moderation. If I could I wouldn’t be here. No I can’t have them after I lose the weight. Addictions don’t just vanish. Yes, I need to deprive myself…would you tell an alcoholic that it’s ok if he drinks again in moderation. No, you’d slap that Coors Light out of his hands faster than my kids run to steal the hot water in the shower. So to borrow a phrase that I hate but can’t stop using…it is what it is. I’ll eat that garbage again never and be just fine.

In other news my husband has nicknamed me saggy britches because even my stretch pants are too big. Precious right? I suppose that’s a better nickname than Flapjack Fanny, which is what my sister called me after an unfortunate incident involving me trying to move a giant branch. Apparently once I fell in the hole trying to throw it, I became the brawny lady that makes the lumberjack’s breakfast. It only took 16 years for that one to go away. Sisters, you can’t kill ’em. Anyway, that’s where I am in life right now and if you don’t mind I’d like to start sharing here again. I hope you’ll be reading.

Keep being you, because you’re beautiful!

Love, Mindy

 

 

Moving forward….again.

I’ve been in a strange place mentally lately. I have had a major life change as far as my career goes. I know I blogged about that before, but daaaang did I ever underestimate the impact that would have on my focus. Funny thing about getting up and going to work everyday, it just kind of takes over everything. I had so much work focus that when it wasn’t there anymore, I had no idea what to do with myself. I ate, a lot. I worked out, none. I stumbled, didn’t do anything that I was advised to do by my nutritionist or my surgeon. I focused on getting out of bed, cleaning the house, doing the laundry and trying to chart my career course. Which left very little time to eat right…what a lame excuse! Just typing that made me cringe. So I went ahead and took a vacation with my family to Oklahoma and Arkansas. We had a fabulous time, seriously it was awesome. But while I was there eating everything that wasn’t nailed down and sweating, no not sweating, raining sweat, I realized something. I can’t wait anymore. I want bariatric surgery and ultimately that is my goal. Let’s face it though, the way I was going to afford the surgery was through my insurance. It was almost 100% covered. I can’t do that now, but I need to lose weight. So here I go. This blog will remain what it has been, a blog about me and weight. That made me cringe a little too. I want the surgery, but I am going to lose weight while I wait to get insurance. It’s tough to change focus, but I have too. So here’s the beginning. I need to start simple. I’ll be eating everything that I usually eat, but cutting the portion in half this week. I’m adding in 20 minutes of walking on the treadmill, every single day. It may seem like a slow start but this is what I need to do to make it long term. You didn’t teach your kid to catch a ball by beaming a 70mph throw at them did you? Please say no. Small steps will lead to big results. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither was this ass. I can do this, and so can you. If you’ve been waiting or wondering….start now. With ME! Now get up, high five whoever is next to you (don’t tell them why, it’s more fun that way) and let’s get going!!!! 

Love, Mindy 

So, this is a challenge….

Some obstacles have come up on my journey. I have left my job of 5 years and am pursuing a new path. I will say this, I am proud of the work that I did there under my previous CEO and I am forever grateful for the personal and professional connections that I have made in my time with the company. I’ll also ad that I am super excited about the career path that I am currently on. In the words of the ever brilliant Forrest Gump “That’s all I’m gonna say about thaaat.”  I really hope you read that in his accent, because that was the font I was using. Now, moving onward an upward.

I really am excited about the career change but make no mistake, Houston, we really do have a problem.  I am now facing 2 tough options. 1. Cobra…H.o.l.y  C.r.a.p. very expensive. 2. Pay cash ($13,000) Yup, that number is correct. For someone that isn’t currently working that might as well be a million. So yeah, it’s a little bit of an issue. The funny part about it is that the insurance companies have you wait months for this surgery in hopes that you change jobs, quit or have a life change that makes you cancel. I wonder how many people would benefit from this procedure if it were treated with the same urgency as any other life saving procedure. That’s what it is, it’s life saving. It isn’t cosmetic, it isn’t the easy way out, it isn’t so I’ll fit in a bikini…it will save my life. PERIOD. Sorry, that’s a hot button for me. I get a little angry, blood pressure goes up an then I have to rub my earlobes and say wooosaaah to calm back down….hold please.

OK, I’m back. So what do I do? I don’t stop. I will continue my journey, I will keep fighting. I will find a way. I will keep with the goal of a November surgery and pay out of pocket for as much as I can for the care that I have to have for preop. A solution will find me. If by chance it doesn’t find me…you know, because there are a lot of Mindys out there…then by God I will hunt down that solution and make it mine! The real point of this is to keep fighting. Fight for yourself. Love yourself so much that no matter what happens NOTHING can break you. You may not need to lose weight, but I know that everyone needs a little more fight in them. Fight to not cut yourself down after you look at a picture of you. You’re beautiful.  Fight to take your t-shirt off at the beach.You’re brave. Fight to get out of a marriage that is terrible. You’re worth it. Fight for a marriage that just needs some compromise. You’re strong.  Fight for YOU and I promise, I’m going to keep on fighting for ME.

Much love and candy sprinkles to all of you,  Mindy

 

 

May is in the Books……

May is done. YAY! You see, this isn’t just me waiting for the glorious day that I have bariatric surgery and miraculously I won’t want to eat anymore. This is a process. Learning and growing. Everyday there’s a task. Every single stinking day. What I’m doing isn’t easy. If it were easy they’d call it “playing with puppies procedure” Because that’s easy and fun! This? No. I do believe what my daily tasks are asking of me is that I am accountable. Finally accountable for my eating, my activity level and my health. I don’t like logging my food. But my parents raised me right and at the heart of it all, I’m not a liar. It seems I only lie to myself and the power company if I forget to pay something. Don’t tell. There are a lot of things that I enjoy, but I don’t enjoy writing down that I ate a burger. I did write it down though. Because this journey is about being honest. Honesty sucks. It does! Nobody really wants brutal honesty. I can’t think of anyone that wants an honest answer to “Does this make me look fat”. What they want is for someone to compliment them and help boost their self esteem. You don’t just fish in rivers, you know. I really wanted to write that I ate a “Small salad with light vinaigrette” By that point though, the damage was done and all that was left was the wrapper and my guilt. Not only do I have to record everything that I eat, but I also have to put down how I’m feeling, who I’m with and what I’m thinking about. I have never in my life put any thought into my feelings when I eat. NEVER. I say I’m an emotional eater because that seems to be something people can relate to. Truth be told, I don’t really think I am. I’m not without emotional scars. We all have them. I’m just not convinced that they are the reason that I’ve hit this point in my health and life. I view them like the scars on my body. They make me who I am. I can’t see me without the scar on the inside of my lip from hitting the back of another basketball players head or without the pinkie that won’t straighten from the ridiculous water slide in Stillwater. To me the emotional scars are the same. They make me..me. Actually tying an emotion to eating has been difficult, but I’m learning. I’m learning a lot. And now May is done and it’s June. That’s one step closer to my surgery and living a healthier life. So see ya later May, don’t let the door hit you in the fanny on your way out! June’s my focus now.

All Hail the Queen of the Crash Diets!

I have a trip coming up. A trip to a land far far away. Let me back up. I moved from Oklahoma to Georgia in 1989. The carefree time of big hair and small acid washed jean skirts. I was 16. This was when long distance calls were expensive and airfare was laughably extravagant. I was also a pretty darned fit 4 sport athlete. Keeping in touch was hard and we were young. Cut to now. Not so fit. I have gone back to Oklahoma quite a bit over the years and each time brought a new crash diet. Sometimes a satisfying deep breath for breakfast, 2 saltines for lunch and another filling deep breath for dinner. The goal was to lose enough weight that I felt good and let my confidence carry me the rest of the way. Keep in mind that I don’t think my friends are shallow enough to care what I weigh. Sure, there was always the chance that I would run into that one turd that for some reason felt I needed to be taken down a peg a time or two. Oh Lord, someone spray some Polo cologne, put on the BreakfastClub and calm me down. Still don’t like him 30 years later…go figure, words really do hurt. Here’s a rundown of the Queen’s crashes. There was the nothing but meat, egg and cheese diet…30lbs gone but 40 gained back. The Chinese herb fiasco..35lbs gone, 50lbs back. The ever amazing diet pill 80lbs gone and 125 back. The divorce diet…50lbs  (plus 300lbs, badabum..thanks folks, I play 2 shows a night! ) off and 60lbs back. I can crash diet like nobody’s business. This is new territory. I’m going to Oklahoma in July and I’m not starving myself first. It’s exciting and terrifying all at the same time. I’m taking the tools that I’m learning and retraining my brain. Food is not my enemy it is my fuel and it is delicious. Except red onions, those are nasty.  I can make small changes and not damage myself further. I have finally learned that crash dieting doesn’t make you healthy it makes you skinny and being skinny is not the goal. Healthy is the goal.

I’m going to remove my crash dieting crown now an throw it away. I won’t be needing it anymore.

Caramel Kisses,  Mindy

 

You’re kidding, RIGHT?

I hit the ground running, with my eyes on the prize! Scheduled my psych eval, physical therapy, nutritional consult and had my consultation visit. I let my husband sit at my feet and watch my doctor mash on a part of my stomach that I do everything in my power to hide. It was like being naked, bending over to touch my toes and then letting him look at the side view of that! That’s a whole lot of nope. I’m logging all food and exercise every day, all day. The prize? Surgery before football season. August to be exact. You may or may not know this about me, but I LOVE football. PeeWee, Middle School, High School and college. I don’t miss games. Sometimes my very loud mouth causes problems, but whatever, I’m passionate y’all!! News came today that I have to be on a physician monitored “diet” for 6 months before my insurance will approve me. On this “diet” if I lose more than 10% of my body weight, you guessed it not approved. So this is how I see it…my insurance company wants me to fail AGAIN. If I succeed I don’t get the surgery which is the help I need to maintain the weight loss. So now we shoot for October. OK…fine…WHAT-EVER! I still won’t miss any games. Anyone who doesn’t want to hear my mouth at football can just suck it up, I’ll be there. I think they don’t know the stubborn ass they’re dealing with. Sorry to have to break it to you insurance company, but you will be spending the money on my surgery.PERIOD. No matter how hard you try to make it on me. I’m learning that there will be good, bad and ugly associated with this process. If this is the bad, I can definitely take it.

Sugar kisses, Mindy