You heard me right. Liquid diet. I am starting a liquid diet. High protein, low carb. Words like ketosis pop up.
Let me back up.
I signed up for a medical weight loss program. 800 calories a day to start. Yep. 800. 4 meal replacements, each with 27 grams of protein. Those who are farther in to the program say the next few days are going to suck ass. I have to track EVERYTHING. I go to weekly group exercise and and counseling sessions. I have one on one appointments with dieticians. I weigh in, I have to show compliance. I also had to drop a nice chunk of change on the whole thing too. It wasn't cheap but based on other programs, it could certainly have been more expensive.
In group tonight, the topic was hunger and cravings. Someone said that she wants to eat donuts when someone has them at work, not because she's craving the donut, but because she craves the social interaction that goes with eating the donut. Same thing with a glass of wine. When she hangs out with girlfriends and because she's craving that social experience, she drinks. She then said that her friends encourage her to have a glass of wine, all the while knowing that she is on a program limiting her intake of carbs. Which brings me to my next point.
My Mother. Ugh, my Mother. She was visiting and helping us out with childcare while our sitter was on vaca for a few days. I decided to start the liquid thing while she was here because, well if I didn't, she would stuff me with noodles and potatoes and corn and all sorts of fried, or as she says, "sauteed", yummy goodness. I try to tell her that when you flour it and use that much oil, it's fried. She doesn't believe me. She's skeptical. Of everything. Or am I skeptical of her skepticism? I used to think it was just my Dad that could push my buttons but since I don't have a relationship with him, no big deal. But over the years I have become all too aware of how good a job my Mom does when it comes to pushing my buttons. I would also like to add that on the SECOND day of my liquid diet, she asked me to pick up McDonald's for her. Not even lying. I had my head out the window because the smell of fries was driving me that insane.
Back to the diet. I need to lose weight, I need to get healthy, I need to learn how to eat. I'm 3 weeks in and have lost about 9-10 lbs. I try not to weigh myself every day because it fluctuates so much but that's a losing battle. I'm starting to incorporate real food, but each meal that I have is very similar to what I would get from a shake. I had a lunch last week with 21g of protein, 5 carbs and I was totally satisfied after. It was shocking that I was able to go to a lunch buffet and keep my calorie intake so low. I was so proud of myself. I will say that since I've started the diet, I've been slacking on the exercise side of things, expecting the calorie reduction to take care of the weight loss. I know if I exercise, it will come off faster and I will feel even better than I'm currently feeling. Note to anyone starting a plan, don't slack on the exercise! Healthy eating will only get you halfway there.
One thing is for sure in all of this, I truly feel this is the first time in my life that I've started a weight loss program and I really feel like I have all the tools I need to succeed. I'm actually learning something this time around. It's a pretty great feeling.
Showing posts with label weight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weight. Show all posts
Monday, August 13, 2012
Monday, July 16, 2012
The Elephant in the Room
What could possibly be the elephant in the room? Yeah, that would be me.
At well over 200 lbs, I am the heaviest I have ever been in my life. Hell, I haven't seen below 200 since shortly after my first child was born. I went back to Jenny Craig, lost some weight, didn't learn crap and gained it all back. And then some. After my second was born, I tried Weight Watchers. We had meetings at the office. I could track using a handy dandy app on my phone. It would be so easy, right? WRONG! I seriously got so sick of looking at food and instead of seeing a piece of pizza, I would see a big 9 in my head. BTW, Papa John's pizza is so not worth 9 WW points. Ick.
This weight has been, well, weighing on me. I don't want to put on a bathing suit. Chasing after 2 small children is becoming a challenge. My cholesterol and glucose levels are up. And let's not forget impact on my marriage. I don't want to be naked in front of my husband because I'm ashamed of my body, which of course means I don't feel sexy which means no sexy time for Mommy and Daddy. While I do believe that "sexy" is subject to interpretation, I just don't have the confidence in myself to pull off anything close to sexy. I'm not shooting for swimsuit model here people, I just want to be comfortable in my skin. While our intimate life has seen a recent rejuvenation and I'm starting to feel a little better in my skin, there are times I feel like that fleeting moment of confidence is fake and I will never get it back.
My weight has been an issue my entire life. I was never the skinny girl at the pool when I was a kid. I always felt like I was too big to try out for cheerleading or anything else. I mean, who wants a 160# fat girl as part of the pyramid when they could have a perky, petite blond who weighed 110? I was always surprised when a boy liked me because I felt like I wasn't attractive. I can't blame my Mother or anyone else for this. Nobody gave me a complex about my weight growing up. Well, maybe life in general did? I mean, Barbie was likely the first offender, with her shiny blond hair, itty bitty waist, D cup boobs and perfectly waxed pubic area.
I have this old picture of me at a girlfriend's slumber party, it must be around 5th grade or so. We are in the front yard and we made a pyramid. When I look at that picture, I don't see the fun that I was having, I have zero memories of that night, all I see the big girl on the bottom because of course she can't get on someone else's back. All the other girls are laughing and smiling and seem to ooze natural beauty, I often wonder how I even got invited to that party. I hadn't even hit puberty people. No boobs, no period, and yet I felt like I was less than these other girls. Some of this might go back to my horribly dysfunctional relationship with my Dad but that needs a whole other blog to document.
Next week I start a medical weight loss program. 800 calories a day. Group counseling, regular meetings with dieticians, group exercise, MEAL REPLACEMENTS, pedometer, journaling, the whole nine yards. Did I mention meal replacements? Like shakes and pudding and bars and such. I can go with 100% meal replacements or I can do a mix. I worry that a mix will hinder my success and kill my motivation, but I worry that 800 calories a day will make me Queen Bitch Supreme. I had to be medically cleared to participate so labs and EKG are all good to go. My MD is supportive and has even offered some prescription appetite suppressants if I feels it's getting to rough. The husband, well, lets just say he's seen me make some half-baked attempts at weight loss before so he's going to have to wait and see. In the meantime I've been walking at least 3-4 times a week, we got a treadmill to use on those insanely hot days (like today) and while I'm not seeing major improvement on the scale, the fact that my lab work has improved and I don't have the same muscle aches after walks as I did a month ago show that it's working.
So that's the elephant in the room, Me. Hopefully at the end of all this, I can play Zumba on the Wii and not shake the entire house. Wouldn't that be nice?
At well over 200 lbs, I am the heaviest I have ever been in my life. Hell, I haven't seen below 200 since shortly after my first child was born. I went back to Jenny Craig, lost some weight, didn't learn crap and gained it all back. And then some. After my second was born, I tried Weight Watchers. We had meetings at the office. I could track using a handy dandy app on my phone. It would be so easy, right? WRONG! I seriously got so sick of looking at food and instead of seeing a piece of pizza, I would see a big 9 in my head. BTW, Papa John's pizza is so not worth 9 WW points. Ick.
This weight has been, well, weighing on me. I don't want to put on a bathing suit. Chasing after 2 small children is becoming a challenge. My cholesterol and glucose levels are up. And let's not forget impact on my marriage. I don't want to be naked in front of my husband because I'm ashamed of my body, which of course means I don't feel sexy which means no sexy time for Mommy and Daddy. While I do believe that "sexy" is subject to interpretation, I just don't have the confidence in myself to pull off anything close to sexy. I'm not shooting for swimsuit model here people, I just want to be comfortable in my skin. While our intimate life has seen a recent rejuvenation and I'm starting to feel a little better in my skin, there are times I feel like that fleeting moment of confidence is fake and I will never get it back.
My weight has been an issue my entire life. I was never the skinny girl at the pool when I was a kid. I always felt like I was too big to try out for cheerleading or anything else. I mean, who wants a 160# fat girl as part of the pyramid when they could have a perky, petite blond who weighed 110? I was always surprised when a boy liked me because I felt like I wasn't attractive. I can't blame my Mother or anyone else for this. Nobody gave me a complex about my weight growing up. Well, maybe life in general did? I mean, Barbie was likely the first offender, with her shiny blond hair, itty bitty waist, D cup boobs and perfectly waxed pubic area.
I have this old picture of me at a girlfriend's slumber party, it must be around 5th grade or so. We are in the front yard and we made a pyramid. When I look at that picture, I don't see the fun that I was having, I have zero memories of that night, all I see the big girl on the bottom because of course she can't get on someone else's back. All the other girls are laughing and smiling and seem to ooze natural beauty, I often wonder how I even got invited to that party. I hadn't even hit puberty people. No boobs, no period, and yet I felt like I was less than these other girls. Some of this might go back to my horribly dysfunctional relationship with my Dad but that needs a whole other blog to document.
Next week I start a medical weight loss program. 800 calories a day. Group counseling, regular meetings with dieticians, group exercise, MEAL REPLACEMENTS, pedometer, journaling, the whole nine yards. Did I mention meal replacements? Like shakes and pudding and bars and such. I can go with 100% meal replacements or I can do a mix. I worry that a mix will hinder my success and kill my motivation, but I worry that 800 calories a day will make me Queen Bitch Supreme. I had to be medically cleared to participate so labs and EKG are all good to go. My MD is supportive and has even offered some prescription appetite suppressants if I feels it's getting to rough. The husband, well, lets just say he's seen me make some half-baked attempts at weight loss before so he's going to have to wait and see. In the meantime I've been walking at least 3-4 times a week, we got a treadmill to use on those insanely hot days (like today) and while I'm not seeing major improvement on the scale, the fact that my lab work has improved and I don't have the same muscle aches after walks as I did a month ago show that it's working.
So that's the elephant in the room, Me. Hopefully at the end of all this, I can play Zumba on the Wii and not shake the entire house. Wouldn't that be nice?
Friday, July 13, 2012
Why Now?
I'm in trouble. My marriage is in trouble. My family is in danger of falling apart. I have to do something.
I will start with my marriage. Things weren't good. I say they weren't good, not "aren't good" because they are improving. Like every wife, I wish he would see what needs to be done around the house. And like every husband, he wishes I would put out daily. Over time, resentment and anger build and before you know it, we're two strangers, living under the same roof. Sharing a bed but feeling miles apart. Intimacy felt forced and obligatory. The passion we once had was gone. My husband had talked separation a couple times but I felt that separation over something as insignificant as sex was ridiculous. I could put out a 2-3 times a week. Right? I mean, who doesn't love scheduled, passionate-less sex?
Part of me wishes I had the financial ability and the balls to just get up and leave. But I have children. We are a family. I'm not one to advocate staying with someone when you're miserable because your children will just pick up on that and it's a bad situation all around. But I love him. When we're apart, it's like a part of me is missing. I think my husband has just lost the woman he fell in love with and is wondering where she went. Over the past 11+ years I have allowed things like weight gain, financial responsibilities, work and such get in the way. They weigh on my mind, they distract me from my family, from my husband, from myself, from God.
I want to use this blog to document my journey. The journey to the person I know that I am. I feel her, in there hiding, but she's afraid to come out. Maybe it's the extra 70-80 lbs I've been dragging around that keeps her hidden. Maybe she's quieted under the pressure of motherhood because other priorities have taken over. Maybe it's the depression I've battled with off and on over the years. Or maybe it's because Christ has kept her there, leading me on a journey, only for her to come out now, to help me when I need it most.
No matter the reason, she's fighting to get out and I'm going to do whatever I can to help her. I owe her. I owe my husband. I owe my family. I owe it to Christ.
I will start with my marriage. Things weren't good. I say they weren't good, not "aren't good" because they are improving. Like every wife, I wish he would see what needs to be done around the house. And like every husband, he wishes I would put out daily. Over time, resentment and anger build and before you know it, we're two strangers, living under the same roof. Sharing a bed but feeling miles apart. Intimacy felt forced and obligatory. The passion we once had was gone. My husband had talked separation a couple times but I felt that separation over something as insignificant as sex was ridiculous. I could put out a 2-3 times a week. Right? I mean, who doesn't love scheduled, passionate-less sex?
Part of me wishes I had the financial ability and the balls to just get up and leave. But I have children. We are a family. I'm not one to advocate staying with someone when you're miserable because your children will just pick up on that and it's a bad situation all around. But I love him. When we're apart, it's like a part of me is missing. I think my husband has just lost the woman he fell in love with and is wondering where she went. Over the past 11+ years I have allowed things like weight gain, financial responsibilities, work and such get in the way. They weigh on my mind, they distract me from my family, from my husband, from myself, from God.
I want to use this blog to document my journey. The journey to the person I know that I am. I feel her, in there hiding, but she's afraid to come out. Maybe it's the extra 70-80 lbs I've been dragging around that keeps her hidden. Maybe she's quieted under the pressure of motherhood because other priorities have taken over. Maybe it's the depression I've battled with off and on over the years. Or maybe it's because Christ has kept her there, leading me on a journey, only for her to come out now, to help me when I need it most.
No matter the reason, she's fighting to get out and I'm going to do whatever I can to help her. I owe her. I owe my husband. I owe my family. I owe it to Christ.
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