so far, i’m doing ok. sort of. I ended up having to work at my gas station job yesterday, which is always hard in terms of me ending up eating a bagel, bag of chips, a choclate bar and a bottle of pop. But I did pretty good. I only had a bottle of caffeine free diet pepsi (no caffiene makes it gross) and a chocolate and oats fiber one bar. I’m not sure that this fiber one bar was actually all that good for me, but it was 140 calories. when i was done work, instead of getting wendys from across the street like I normally do, I ended up getting a turkey sub from Subway…whole wheat bread. i ate a whole 12 inch though…oh well.
when i jumped on the scale this morning…it was 272!!!! Seriously! I honestly don’t know the last time i was at 273!! my scale actually has a memory function, which i stopped using the same time i stopped using the scale about two years ago. at that time, my lowest recorded memory was 276!! I am very very happy right now. I just checked again (because I’m finding it hard to believe) and I’m at 272.2!! Its very good incentive to continue going to the gym and eating better. I’m starting to feel good about the decisions i’m making.
I’ve been going to the Weight Management Centre that my doctor referred me to. I’ve had two visits with a bariatric educator, seen two doctors, had an exercise stress test, a calorimetre, and every time I’m there they hook up my heart to something too. I’ve had fasting blood tests, and two hour blood sugar tests. All in the last three weeks. I’ve been at the clinic at least two times a week. And I’ve GAINED one pound. And I had excuses. I spent a lot of february with a really bad cold, it’s hard to go grocery shopping when I’m in between pays, I know I’m not eating properly, but am having a really hard time scheduling things.
It’s scary…every time I go in there, they do my blood pressure and kind of flip out a little because it’s monstrously high. And I have to tell them that i might have forgotten to take my pill the last couple days. Which is a lie. I stopped taking it in January, for no reason other than sheer laziness and the fact that it tastes like I’m swallowing gravel.
But today, after my weigh in (277, I started at 276) the doctor looked at me and told me straight out. I’m young, I haven’t lost any weight in the three weeks we’ve started. I’m not really trying yet and she knows. She doesn’t want to put me on medication. I’m young, (22) and she thinks that maybe if I give it a go myself, excercise and diet, that I’ll be able to lower my sugars and get my blood pressure down. I’ve been going to the gym about three times a week, she wants five at least. 30 mins cardio. She doesn’t want to put me on meds, and she doesn’t want me to keep endangering my health when I’m so young.
She seemed concerned and asked me if she scared me, and I answered her honestly. Yes, she scared the crap out of me, but maybe that’s exactly what I need. I can sit and daydream about what it’s going to be like when I’m not obese, but that daydreaming isn’t really getting me anywhere. It’s like when your alarm goes off and you keep hitting snooze…you know that you need to get up but you just want to stay in bed…and then finally, you just turn of the clock and accept that it’s time to get up.
I think I’m finally awake.
And I got home, and was thinking about things, and came to a realization. I have an addiction. I am addicted to food. I always kind of thought that in the back of my head, but today I finally accepted it. I have an addiction. And why would I be putting myself in a position to keep falling off the wagon? I cleaned out all the cupboards in my house, made a shelf for my food, my sister and mom can keep theres on another shelf. All the baking stuff and sweets, are in a high shelf, out of sight, out of mind. I am making a grocery list for monday after work, and I’m only going to get what’s on the list, nothing more.
I will have to talk to my family. I still live at home with my mom and sister, and they are not having the same weight problems that I’ve had all my life. They’ve always been thin, and I don’t think they realize that it’s hard for me to stay in control of what I put in my body when they’re scarfing down marshmallows and swiss cakes. But my mom will probably be pretty understanding, once we’ve actually had the talk.
I had my last hamburger and fries tonight. When I was eating it, I knew it was gonna be my last. I’m going to miss it, but I’m not going to miss having a hard time sleeping, the bad shopping experiences, the heavy feeling that I have right now. I’m starting to feel a lot better now.
It’s been a while since my last post. To be honest, I kind of fell off the wagon. The last couple of weeks have been crazy, first my car died and then I’ve had this nasty nasty cough and cold for the last two weeks. I’ve been to the gym once in the last two weeks. Just haven’t felt good enough to actually get up and go there. But I’m feeling betterish now, and tomorrow I’m going to start going back, no excuses.
When I was at the doctor before Christmas, she told me that she was referring me to a weight loss clinic, and it had been more than a month and I hadn’t heard anything, but then I got a phone call and was scheduled for an appointment yesterday. It was crazy. In a good way. It’s called the Wharton Weight Management Center, and it was kind of overwhelming. They took me in, made me take my shirt off, weighed me (276.4), measured me (height, 175 cm, or 5 ft 9, waist-51 inches, hips-52 inches) My current bmi is 40.82, which is obesity class III. I’m not sure what that means, but I’m sure it’s not good. To lose 10% of my weight would put me at 248.76, which is 27.64 pounds away. They hooked my up to one of those heart monitors, where there’s like, eight sensors stuck around your chest, and they also made me do a breathing test to show my output…but I’m pretty sure that’s not going to be completely accurate because of the huge chest cold that I had. It was weird at this clinic. They take you in, put you out…make you wait for the next person you need to see…sort of like a fat production line. Tests, then the BE, which I can’t remember what it stands for…behavioural educator maybe? Not sure. Then after waiting some more, I finally got to meet doctor Wharton. Big Obama fan too, which is awesome. There’s classes and this clinic obligates you as the patient to commit to yourself and them to making the change. You have to attend classes and meet with the therapists and they’re gonna do an ultrasound and blood tests and stress tests and heart tests. I have at least six appointments before the end of the month, it’s pretty intense. But I think that that will be good. It’s something that I need, and I am actually really excited to start the process….except for the fact that there’s homework involved…that’ll take some getting used to.
Either way, its me starting over again…and I’m excited. Things are looking up. I started being conscious of my weight when I hit 303. Now I’m at 276, almost 30 lbs. And although I can’t really see a difference in my body, numbers don’t lie. I can’t wait until I can say I’ve lost 35, 40, 50 lbs! It’s gonna be awesome.
I’m honestly trying to get into a routine of going to the gym every day, no exceptions. I only started going back on the 29th, had two days in before the gym was closed two days for new years, and then was back again on friday. I wanted to go yesterday, but my car decided to strand me on my way to the gym yesterday and now I need a timing chain.
But I went back today, and was there for two complete hours!
20, 10 mins treadmill = 30 mins total
15, 15, 10 mins elliptical = 40 mins total
I a lot of machine work for my legs and arms, I don’t even know what the machines are called, other than the adductor and abductor.
I also tried the arc trainer, but it was so weird that I had to get off after two minutes.
I have some trainer time that I’ve already paid for, I really should get on that as well, so at least I would know what machines I should be using and make sure that I’m doing it right. I work out in the women’s only section of my gym, and usually it’s nice and quiet and there’s not a lot of people around. But I don’t like to be the fat girl that doesn’t know what she’s doing, so I’m hesitant to try new things.
I also have no attention span whatsoever, apparantly. I can’t do more than 15 minutes on the elliptical without becoming completely bored, so I have to rotate between other things.
I feel really good about the two hours that I put in today. I’m actually really tired right now though. I can’t wait to start to see the results. I’m having a hard time being patient, but this is a change that I want to make for life, so if I have to go slowly, so be it.
I have decided to provide myself with some incentive. When I finally get a body that I think would look good with one, I’m going to get a tattoo. It’s going to be some sort of quote, and I know I have some time to figure it out, but I figured I’d throw in a goal that I can work towards, other than the satisfaction of being healthy and strong. I can’t wait.
So, I guess that this would be my introduction post.
Happy New Year!
A little about myself.
I’m 22, from Ontario Canada, and I have this lovely office job doing consumer affairs work that keeps my life pretty sedentary. The hours aren’t really conducive to having evenings free to get stuff done.
I think I’m getting ahead of myself, I should probably start at the beginning…….
I grew up in and around Hamilton with my mom, dad was pretty much always out of the picture. I was always a big kid, I new that I was bigger than all the other kids I knew, but for some reason, I was never able to see myself as fat. I always told myself, “yeah, I’m bigger, but it’s probably just baby fat, it’ll all go away eventually”. I never jumped on a scale, never knew how big exactly I was. I do remember that when I got my tonsils out at 13, I was 114 kgs. I’m only know converting that to pounds and realizing that it converts to be 251 pounds. I can’t believe that I was that big just going into my teen years.
I’ve always been really comfortable being alone, I’m not one of those people who is absolutely miserable if I’m staying home on a friday night. I was never big into team activities, so the most sports like thing I did in school was the one season that I was on the volleyball team.
As much as I knew that I was fatter than all of my peers, I never felt unhealthy. Other than asthma, I never felt that there was any health issues that would effect me. The asthma stopped before I entered high school, so I pretty much felt that everything was ok, that I was just a big girl.
And of course, when I did get to high school, there was so much drama and angst in my life that I was depressed and had no ambition to do much of anything. At home, it was just me and my mom, and she was usually working to support us. And I know it’s not her fault, but I was never taught that meals are supposed to be nourishment to keep your body going, not a source of comfort but a source of energy.
For a time when I was 17, I moved to Nova Scotia to live with my dad. I knew that I was fat, and it was hard to live with my dad and my brother, both very thin athletic people. As a result, I mostly ate whatever was cooked by my dad, mainly frozen vegetables and pasta. Most of that year that I lived there I was in a depression, sad for the past that I couldn’t change, and upset with choices that I had made for myself. My grama was sick in Ontario, and I had moved four provinces away to avoid everything.
When I came home for summer break, my dad broke the news that he didn’t want me back. Which, to this day, is still so hurtful on so many levels. But I’m starting to accept the fact that I am a better person for the time I spent out there, and if my family in Nova Scotia doesn’t realize how great a person I can be, there missing out.
There’s obviously more to the story than that, but to make it short, I’ve spent the last five years in and out of school, trying to find out what I’m good at.
Physically, my life has become very very sedentary. Unless I can drive to where I’m going, I won’t go there. If I have to go to a convenience store, I’ll make sure that it coincides with a trip to Walmart or a pharmacy or somewhere that I have to take the car to get to. When I was 20, I did buy a scale. I still have the weights entered in the scale from when i first bought it. Two years ago, I was 278 pounds. I did join a gym, but only ended up going for about a month before I dropped into what I guess could be considered a depression that caused me to drop out of school.
So the last couple years of my life have been filled with me eating fast food, with little to no excercise. I would eat out probably about six times a week. McDonald’s, Wendy’s, Burger King. My diet has pretty much consisted of a hamburger a day for way too long.
For a long time I worked in a gas station, and figured that me standing for eight hours a day was a great workout. I’m not sure about that, but I did work up a good endurance just for being able to stand around. When I quit the gas station, I ended up in an office where I currently work, and all I pretty much do is sit for eight hours a day. There’s no reason to leave my desk, I can’t go running to the printer all the time, it’s not very good for the environment.
I went to a wedding of a friend in August. I was then tagged on facebook and was horrified with how I looked. But even though I was unhappy with myself, there really wasn’t any ambition or motivation in me to stop.
A couple of months ago, I stepped on the scale, and it was 303. I couldn’t believe it. I was so unhappy with myself at that point. I still can’t believe that I got that high. I don’t know what my problem was, but even staring at the scale and seeing 303, and looking at myself in the mirror, and being unhappy with myself, I didn’t really start to make any changes. Well, I did make some minor changes, I stopped going to the drive through every day (but still went a lot). Somehow, I ended up dropping weight. I don’t know how. The only excercise I did was hour long walks, but that only lasted for about a week. I was always able to come up with excuses for not excercising, and winter coming on was definately a great excuse.
On December 11, I was told by my doctor that I have type 2 diabetes. She told me to watch what I’m eating, join a gym, and to start losing the weight. Ever since the diagnosis, I’ve been more in tune to my body. Now I understand that when my eyes feel funny, I’ve probably got an elevated blood sugar. Same for when I get sharp pains in my sides. It took me some time to gather up my courage but I started going back to the gym. I’ve only been twice, then haven’t gone the last two days because of new year’s, but I am pretty sure that this is something that I am going to continue to do. Because when I looked at the blood sugar monitor, and it was at seven for the first time right after a work out, and I hadn’t been able to break 10 before that, I felt great. I felt that this was a change that I could do. I was so proud of myself, and really felt like I had accomplished something great for myself. I want to be healthy. I want to be thin, I don’t want to be someone who dies in their 20’s. I want to be able to go to a store and buy something that doesn’t have a couple of XX’s in the size. I am finally at this place where I am visualizing an end to being fat. I am wanting to be a better version of myself, let the thin person I am on the inside show on the outside. I’m not expecting to be a tiny thin person, but what I do know is that I want to be smaller than I am now. For my height, I should be somewhere around or below 145 pounds or something like that. As of today, the scale is telling me that I’m 280. The number that I’m going to focus on is going to be 195. I’m not sure if that’s realistic or not, but I’m definately going to be working towards that. I guess that could be considered my new year’s resolution. 195 lbs and happy.
The gym was closed today, but I’m going to go back tomorrow. I now accept the fact that I can continually make excuses for why not to go, but there is really no good reason for not going when it is only damaging me to stay at home sedentary. I feel good when I’m working out, breathless. Like I’m starting to accomplish something. After only two days, I was sleeping better and feeling better than I had in a long time. I know that excercise can be nothing but good for me, and for me to stay home would only bring my life to an end so much faster. So I’m jumping in, giving it my all, and making my life more complete.
And I finally am getting it. I may be big now, but I’m not planning to stay big for very long!