Residual self-doubt

A good 98% of the time now, I have killer self-esteem.  I love how I have changed and I have learned to love my body.  I mean, sure... I wish I didn't have the fat that's still here and I know I'll never have a perfect body, but I love it.  I think it looks pretty good as I get more in shape and closer to the way God created my body to look.

I wish I knew as a teenager that I had a great body.  Not a great body like a swimsuit model, or one that makes men drool as they are unable to avert their eyes, but a great body in a healthy, great musculature, awesome build type of way.  I'm strong.  I'm built like an athlete, or a farmer.  My body was made to work hard and take care of people.  And I have an awesome butt.  It's true.  I don't even care, I would tell that to the Pope if I met him.  That's how much I love my butt.  Even when I was super fat, it was still a good butt!

I walk around with an air of confidence these days that gets me a lot of attention from guys, which I really appreciate, because I didn't have that for so long.  I don't mean to be conceited or vain or wrapped up in looks.  I am none of those things.  I know I'm not a supermodel.  I think a lot of it is about my general confidence and not even what I look like. 

But I truly enjoy being admired after being the girl that no one paid any attention to in that way for more than ten years.  That can really destroy a girl's spirits.  For realz.  It made me question my worth.  I know how hilarious I am, that I'm a great friend and will give all I have to the people I love, and that I make the people around me happier.  I also know that everything that I am comes from God and my worth is wrapped up in Him.  But when all I ever wanted was to get married and no guy could see past my exterior to all of the inner awesome, you can bet that none of that seemed to matter much after a while.

And sometimes that feeling comes back to haunt me. 

The other day, a friend said she wanted to set me up with someone, and my immediate thought was, "he probably won't like me because I'm too fat."  It popped into my head before I could even think about it for two seconds.  It was automatic.  It felt crappy.  I wanted to hit that thought over the head with a mallet like it was a whack-a-mole.

I forced myself to stop thinking it.  And then I vowed to re-lose the pounds I gained over the summer that are making me feel self-conscious.

I lost 5 this week.

I bought a cute dress at Target for $17, and I love it so much, but I'm not as happy about it as I should be because I know it would be so much cuter if I was twenty pounds lighter.  And I was twenty pounds lighter not too long ago, so it feels like a fresh wound.

I took a picture in the dress though, because I wanted to have a before and after picture in it.

The dress has POCKETS!!!!!

I can't wait for the after picture.

What happens when you blow it?

I haven't written since the 4th of July.  That's over three months.

If I'm not writing, I'm not doing well, period. 

I just don't want to disappoint people.  I want people to be motivated by my success, not sucked down with me when I'm sinking.

And I sank for a while.  Pretty badly.

I thought I was over my compulsive over-eating, but it appears that there may always be triggers.

So, here it is: I am a compulsive over-eater.  And I'm ashamed.  But I am also human, and full of weaknesses, and if I have learned anything at all, it is that some things are impossible without the awesome power of God.  So when I'm doing really well and I have all this self-control and I'm not being tempted by food, I start to feel invincible, like I can just do this on my own, and I forget to rely on God. 

And then stuff starts to fall apart, and before I know it, my sister has a baby and I spend time taking care of her and her kids and definitely don't have time to eat well, which leads to "well, I'm gonna be driving 3 hours, I need to stay awake in the car... Cheetos and M&Ms and soda will do the trick!"  But those are trigger foods and once I start, I buy them often.  And then my friend Jen comes to visit and we eat a bunch of junk food.  And then I start a new job and there is a bottomless pit of candy and bagels and food, food, food, and I have been poor for so long and unable to eat without worrying about where the money will come from to buy my groceries, so I go a little crazy and eat more food than I need.  And then I start school again and my schedule is so busy that I definitely don't have time to go to the gym.  And then I have re-gained 20 pounds.

I just want to crawl into a hole and cry.

I did put the breaks on about a month or so ago, and the gaining stopped.  I even lost a little of what I had gained.  But I am not at the place yet where I have kicked it back into gear fully.  I have better control, but I need that power of God to do this for me.  And I need a less-full schedule so that I have time to go to the gym.

But having two jobs plus trying to launch my photography business, writing for the school newspaper and for a magazine article writing class, plus copy editing the paper is like having two full time jobs, and I barely have time to sleep.  I am so exhausted all the time... something else that takes a toll on my weight.

I told my cousin I gained 20 pounds back and she said I don't look like I gained that much, but I definitely see and feel it.  And I hate it.  I feel like such a failure.  And I no longer feel comfortable in my skin. 

At least I know what to do about it though.  And I'm still in decent shape, despite the lack of workouts.  A few weeks ago, I was covering a football game for the paper when the visiting team had their lockers ransacked and robbed.  You can imagine the riot that started to break out, and my news friends and I covered the story without missing a beat.  There was a point in the night where we were getting a statement from the sheriff, and he got a call saying that there was another fight in the lower lot.  He took off in his car, and we ran after him on foot.  I thought for sure I would be the first to stop, but I never ran out of breath.  My body still wants to be active.  And so do I.

So now it's time for some pictures.  These aren't pictures I'm excited to put up.  But this is the story of my journey, which unfortunately includes setbacks.

In my scrubs at work, feeling uncomfortable with myself.

Definitely a fuller face.

Aww, look how cute!  A baby sheep!  And also rolls of fat reclaiming my midsection.  Ewe

  So now that I've admitted it out loud, or at least in writing, it's time to turn this thing back around and seek that help I know I need that only God can give.  Because this struggle is not what my life is about, and it's getting in the way.

Thanks to my mom and Costco

You know what rules?  Costco.  You know why?  Because my mom and God said so!  Okay, so maybe God didn't say that Costco rules, but that's the phrase I used to win arguments when I was a kid.  My mom would never support anything that God disagreed with, so if she said it, it HAD to be right.  Who can argue with THAT logic? 

I wasn't trying to be manipulative.  I was just stating facts.

This is a fact: my mom loooooooves Costco.  Once, when I was 19 and my friend Jane and I got jobs together doing customer service for AT&T, we were filling out all the paperwork with a bunch of other hirees and the form asked for our parents' address.  Jane leaned over, pointed at that question on mine and whispered, "you should put Costco."

Fast forward two years, and my friend Kelli and I were giving everyone we knew ridiculous nicknames.  She and I combined are Christmas, but with a lisp, so it's actually Krithmith.  We gave out names like Fireplace, Brick, Fence and Birthday.  Take a wild guess at  what we named my mom.

Yep.  My mom was Costco.

You can't really blame the woman... Costco has great deals on everything you could possibly imagine, except diapers.  They sell them, but they're no cheaper there than anywhere else.  I don't even know why I know that, but I do.  Besides, my mom doesn't have any babies, and her grandbabies wear cloth diapers, so that non-savings item doesn't even affect her.  Why am I talking about diapers?  Maybe I should stop writing in the middle of the night when I should be sleeping.  Haha, yeah right.  That'll never happen.

As Nacho Libre would say, anyhwaaaaysss...

My sister had a baby last week, and my parents drove out to be with her and help out for a month or so.  On the way up to San Luis Obispo where my sister lives, they stopped in LA and spent a few days with their other children.  And they brought gifts.

I got an exercise shirt, from Costco of course, and a pair of Jeep brand shoes which may or may not be from Costco.  I'm really not sure. 

When I went up to be with my sister for the birth and recovery time in the hospital, we all went to Costco and my mom bought me some new exercise pants!  They are reversible and have a little hidden pocket in the waistband.  The prices are great, at $13 for the shirt and $17 for the pants.  That is quite a bit lower than the clothes I've been finding when looking for good workout clothes.

Before the new Costco pants, I only had one pair of pants that I liked to work out in.  I have bigger pairs from my fatter days, but I hate wearing those when I'm working out because I honestly just feel like I'm jiggling all over the place, which is a rotten feeling.  I need to wear the size that fits properly, which right now is a large.  Another rotten feeling is being poor and not being able to buy good workout pants because at other places they're $25-$40. 

Today I went to the gym and realized I was wearing all three of the items my mom bought for me.

Thanks for the new workout clothes, mom!  I'll be using them double time because I didn't work out at all the whole week I was taking care of my sister post-c-section and now I'm looking bloated.  Nothing some new gym clothes and time at 24-Hour Fitness can't cure!

The story of a mile

I've never been a runner.  Yes, I have participated in two 5ks this year, and I plan to do plenty more, but don't mistake that as a sign that I'm a runner.  I'm not.

When I was a kid, for P.E. we used to go down to the park at my dad's job with another homeschool family, the Dills.  There was a nice running trail with stops along the way for different areas of exercise.  I enjoyed the exercise stations but when it was time to run I always hated it.  I did, however, have a pretty major crush on Adam, the Dill boy who was my age, and when he took my arm and pulled me around the track, I was happy to acquiesce!  Sure, I'd run if it meant time with Adam!  But without the motivation of a cutie to run with, oh heck no!

When I was at school in Germany, my good friend and roommate Joy used to drag me out of bed when it was still dark and crack the running whip as I complained of my impending death during a very cold and dark torture session.  She was a runner and I adore her, and I needed exercise, so when we discussed running together it seemed like a good idea, but when it came down to it, I admire the determination it took on her part to get me going!  She also got me to do early morning aerobics and many other crazy things I never would have attempted on my own.  If you know me at all, you know just what an accomplishment that is... not only because she made me run, but getting me out of bed in the early morning is no easy task!  But Joy has always been able to motivate me like no other.  She rules.

Obviously lately I have been more into fitness, and I genuinely want to be a runner.  I want to love it.  I plan to do a half marathon someday, and run the entire way.  In my head it sounds glorious.  In reality, I can't run for more than a minute without stopping to walk.  As soon as I start running I think, "Why did this seem appealing?"

That happened this afternoon when I decided to see how far I could jog around the block.  One lap around is slightly more than half a mile, and a few times in the past I have alternated running and walking, but I have never run for more than thirty seconds.  Wimp.  I set out thinking I would run half the block, walk the other half and be done with it. 

I didn't even get that far.  I jogged all of 0.15 miles, to the end of my street, turned the corner and walked the 0.09 miles that makes up one short end of my block.  Then I started to jog again, thinking I'd see if I could make it the full 0.22 miles of the next street before having to turn the corner again, but I really didn't see it happening. 

But then my mindset changed.  Why stop?  I needed to just push myself a little and I knew I could do it.  When I got to the end of that street and turned the corner, I knew I could keep jogging because that street is only the length of three houses.  I would stop there. 

But then I pushed a little further, because there were only five more houses until I got home.  For sure I could make it home!  I had only planned to go around the block once and I would have run more than half of it, which is pretty good! 

Something kept pushing me though, and instead of turning in at my driveway, I kept going.  I made it to the end of my street again and forced myself to finish the last little bit.  Then I walked the rest of the way home. 

I jogged one full lap around my block: 0.57 miles!  I guarantee that is the farthest I have run in one shot since Adam Dill pulled me around the track at Hughes Aircraft when I was 12.  I know it's nothing, but it feels like a huge accomplishment for me!

Ooh, and I also got to wear my workout wristband for the first time!  It has a pocket for ID on one side, and a zipper pocket for keys on the other. I bought it at Victoria's Secret right after I did the Color Run in order to get a Color Run tank top for $5.  We had to buy something in their VSX exercise line, and I didn't want to spend $50 on running pants.

All decked out and sweaty post-run

That says runner.  It may not be true yet, but it will be.

Ooh, I need to put on some mascara.

This is the tank top I got for $5.  I wanted to wear it now and take a picture so I have a comparison shot for later on when I'm an actual runner and weigh less.  Before and after shots are fun!

I feel good right now, with that run out of the way.  I just have one question though: why does running produce so much saliva?  I probably spat 32 times during that run, one for every year of my life!  Hahaha. <--- dork.

You win some, you lose some

I lost the second Diet Bet I signed up for.  I only lost four pounds instead of the nine I needed to lose in order to win.  I was just too busy with final projects and finals to sleep much for a few weeks, and not getting enough sleep REALLY messes with my body.  Also, what with not having enough time to sleep and all, you can bet that I didn't spend a single minute at the gym.

It's okay to not meet your goals sometimes, as long as you're not back-tracking and you stay focused.  Sometimes life legitimately gets in the way, but it's important not to let a short hang-up turn into an extended period of laziness and gluttony.  It's amazing how quickly it can go there.

It's easy, when I see a little spike in numbers on the scale, to get discouraged and go into a mindset of "well I already gained a few pounds, I might as well eat this bag of M&Ms... quart of ice cream... vat of macaroni and cheese... olympic swimming pool full of whipped cream..." or whatever seems tempting at the time.  Okay, most of that was grossly exaggerated.  Except the M&Ms.  I truly cannot stomach an entire quart of ice cream anymore although there was a day... let's not talk about that.

Actually, yes.  Let's talk about that. Because...

I have a very tall friend who is truly amazing and wonderful and I can't wait for her to find an amazing man to marry and be nerdy with.  She, however, is afraid it will never happen because she thinks she's taller than every man ever.  While I understand her desire for a taller man so that she can feel small and protected, it's just kind of a crazy thing to worry about!  Besides the fact that there are obviously plenty of tall men out there, to convince her that height truly doesn't matter, I frequently tell her the story of my also-tall sister, who swore up and down that she would never marry a guy who is shorter than she is.  And then she met her husband.  He is a few inches shorter than she is, and she genuinely doesn't care.  It just doesn't matter!

So we're talking about my sister the other night, and I say, "would you like to see pictures of them?  Would that make you feel better?"  She exuberantly claimed that she would indeed like to see some evidence of a happy oddly-heighted couple, and I went to Facebook to track some down.  I ended up in a photo album from their wedding rehearsal and while showing her proof that height does not hinder happiness, I found a picture of myself that I had blocked from my memory.  It was not tagged because I didn't want anyone to see it at the time, which is ironic, because I am now going to post it here for all to see.

I commented on it and my mom saw the comment and told me that I look downright skinny in this picture compared to some that she has, and she asked if I wanted them.  In the midst of cringing at the thought, I told her to send them.  I wrote a post a while back with pictures of me from before, but since most of my pictures are in storage, and there aren't a whole lot of digital pictures from back then, the pictures in that post don't really show just how huge I used to be.

Not only do I want to be completely transparent and show exactly what I used to look like and what is possible with hard work and self-control, I also think it's important to keep these reminders for just the kind of situation I am facing now: having lost my footing just a little bit while being tied up with end-of-school busy-ness and forcing myself to power through and not give in to the dark side.  One look at these pictures is enough to send me running to the gym.  In fact, that's where I'm going as soon as I finish writing this.

So here is a picture from the day my nephew Eli was born, March 15, 2010, and then a slew of horribly embarrassing pictures from earlier years.

 

There is hardcore cringing going on right now.  But I also know that now I look like this:

In this picture, by the way, I am wearing a newsprint skirt that I bought for the Media Arts Banquet at Pierce College, where I am copy editor of the newspaper the Roundup.  I got it on ebay for $1.99 and it is size Large.  That's all it said.  Large.  Which could have meant anything.  I took a small gamble and it totally paid off, and it's my new favorite skirt!

Anyway...

I regret decisions that I made for years and years that kept me fat and miserable.  I look back and I wonder how I let myself waste so many years.  It makes me sad.  All I ever thought I wanted was to be married with kids, and I totally sabotaged myself because of my state of mind.  My twenties are gone, and I spent a majority of that time lost and depressed.  I was not the person I am today.  And yet, it's amazing what God can do with all the ugly and messy and dirty that I turned my life into.

My story is helping inspire a handful of people to get healthy and that makes the whole experience... maybe not worth it, but it makes it beautiful.  It gives it a purpose when I saw only despair.  And it gives me a purpose I wouldn't have had otherwise.  I want to inspire people.  I want to let people know that if I can do it, literally anyone can.  And I want people to know that they are worth it.  They are valuable and they deserve more than the miserable state in which they are stuck.

Food is a crutch for so many, and it masks the real issues that each person struggles with deep down.  It was when I finally let go and let God heal my inner junk that my outer world started to change as well.   Today, I am joyful, confident, and full of direction for my life, which is amazing.  My exact journey is what I had to go through to get to where I am, and I would not switch places with anyone in the world if i was given that option.

Colors

My last name is Noah.  I love when people find out that fact, and I say to them, "Yeah, I'm a direct descendant of Noah!"

"REALLY???  That's SO COOL!"

I have gotten that response so many times, and it never gets old.  I crack up just as much every time.  People are so gullible!  Then I remind them that God wiped out the earth with the flood, except for Noah, his three sons, their wives and that boat load of animals: we are ALL direct descendants of Noah.  I just happen to have the coolest last name.  Someday when I get married and change my last name, I would love to name one of my kids Noah so I don't miss it so much.

Because of my name, I feel a sense of ownership of the rainbow.  Maybe that's a little bit ridiculous, but a large part of who I am is made up of ridiculousness, and the amount of laughter and joy that I bring to those in my life can attest for the value of ridiculousness.  I refuse to relinquish my right to ridiculousness.  And apparently I also appreciate a little alliteration.

In my journey to health and a lower and more appealing body weight, challenges are important to me.  I ran my first 5k on my birthday two months ago, and immediately signed up for the Color Run because how could I NOT????  It's full of the rainbow!  It's MY RACE!!!

This run took place yesterday in Irvine, and my friend Rocio and I drove down and participated in the madness.  It was crazy!!!  There were thousands and thousands of people there.  There was a race at 8 a.m. and another at 12:30.  When I signed up, the 8:00 race was already sold out, so we had to do the one in the horrible heat of the afternoon.

Traffic was nuts.  We allowed a lot of extra time to get there and stand in line for our t-shirts and wristbands, but we spent most of that time idling in a giant line of cars.  Here we are excited to get there and get going:

 This sign made us way too happy:

There were so many people there, so we parked about half a mile away from the start/finish lines and the registration tents.  We had to go pick up our stuff, then go back to the car to ditch the stuff, then back to the start line.  We had already walked a mile and a half by the time we started the race!  It was a good warm up.  But it was also hot and even with the sunscreen that I made sure to put on, before the race even started, I wasn't looking quite as Scandinavian as my roots would have you believe I am.

Check out the tan I got!

The run itself was harder than I anticipated, but the color part was incredible!  My goal originally was to beat my time from my birthday 5k.  I didn't.  The time was almost exactly the same, but I am actually quite happy with that fact, and this is why: my first 5k was two months ago, at 9 a.m., on a course with trees and shade.  In other words, it was probably twenty degrees cooler.  Heat saps energy and slows me down in a big way, so matching my time from last time while running in the extreme afternoon heat with no shade and on asphalt is perfectly okay with me.

Going through each color station and getting attacked with a cloud of colored cornstarch was so much fun!  There were people there to supply us with all the high-5s we could possibly want.  I like a good high-5.  Maybe not from my brother-in-law, who tries to smack your hand off and leaves it tingling for days afterward, but from pretty much anyone else in the world.

By the time we reached the finish line, my fingers felt like sausages.  I was pretty dehydrated.  But I felt great.  I was happy.  And full of color.

Here we are in all our colorful glory:

And the back.  Rocio was totally sassing that Police officer:

 

Back in the car after it was all over, we covered the seats with towels so I wouldn't get color all over me every time I get in my car for the next couple weeks.  And Rocio makes sure to look ever so beautiful for the camera.  Haha.  It's tough to get a picture of this girl really smiling.  She may be even more ridiculous than I am.

For Cookie Monster, "C" may be for cookie, but for me, "C" is for Color Run!

Haha.   I'm a dork.  And I can't wait for my next 5k!!!  One of these days I'll be able to run the whole way!

No time to eat... well

Whenever some skinny girl giggles and says, "I just forgot to eat!" I pretty much just want to punch her in the face.

However, a few times in my life, I have been so extraordinarily busy that I legitimately forgot to eat.  I went all day, rushing around from one thing to another, barely having time to breathe, and food just slipped right through the cracks.  My sister's wedding was one of those days.  I realized at about 5 p.m. that I hadn't eaten a single thing all day, and suddenly I was ravenously hungry. 

But other than extreme cases like that, I ALWAYS remember to eat.  And there is always time.  However, there is not always time to eat well.  Too often, especially during the school year when I am swamped with classes, homework, regular work, church stuff, and playing with the babies in my life, I don't take the time to prepare healthful meals and snacks.  This just leads to eating whatever is quick, which isn't always the best choice.  You know what's really quick?  Pizza from Little Ceasar's.  And it's only $5 for a whole pizza.  Yeah.  I've had way too much pizza in the last couple weeks.  I'm not proud of it.  I've also eaten lots of Subway sandwiches, which is an excellent choice, but I can't have that for lunch and dinner every single day.  I mean, I could, but I think that would get old pretty quickly.

Tonight I was feeling kind of gross, and I was craving salad, so I made one.  I immediately felt better after eating it, and as soon as I'm done writing this I'm gonna go to the gym, which I haven't done in a couple weeks.  My body literally craves healthful food and exercise.  It's the weirdest thing, but I love it!  I need to really take the time to make sure my body is getting what it needs.  I'm actually really shocked that I haven't gained five pounds back in the last couple weeks, but I haven't.  And I have 16 days to lose nine pounds for the diet bet I'm in right now.  I can do this.  I need to do this. 

For motivation, I tried on the size 16 jeans that I have sitting on my shelf waiting to wear, but instead of motivating me, it just made me feel like I'll never get there.  Why are my 18s getting loose, and there's still such a long way to go to get into those 16s??  Good thing I wear a lot of dresses.  I hate wearing baggy pants.  I'm no gangsta!

I have tight shorts on under the pants.  That is not my skin showing.  If it was, this picture would be way inappropriate.  But it's not.  Because that's not my skin.  Also, that face I'm making cracks me up.

I'm gonna try the pants on again when I weigh 215 and not before, because I don't want to get discouraged.

Time to go kick my butt at the gym!

Momentum

I start two new challenges this week, and while I'm excited and SOOOO ready to reach my next mini-goal (to be under 200), I would be lying if I were to claim that I'm not a little bit scared that I won't be able to keep up this momentum.

Right now I feel amazing and I don't want that feeling to go away, but so often I lose track of how I want to feel, and I get lead astray by that horrible force known as "the dark side"... or junk food.  It's pretty much interchangeable.

Today at church I wore my Easter dress that I posted comparison pictures of in my last post and I felt like a million bucks, even though the dress only cost me $8.  After church I was talking to my "little brother" Rey, who knows all about my determination to lose weight and get in shape, and he said, "You're looking great!"  Slight pause... "You KNOW you're looking great!"  YEAH I DO!!!  Haha!  I love that I leave a trail of confidence wherever I go.

I know that who I am is not about what I look like.  No matter what size I've been, I've always been a person who loves deeply, is an amazing friend, will do anything for anyone, is good at EVERYTHING, has wisdom, is smart and has a KILLER sense of humor.  I have never lacked in friends and the people in my life love me.  It's important to know who you are.

But when I was heavier, I was so uncomfortable and embarrassed about the way I looked that I hid behind that exterior.  It became a handicap to my happiness.  It clouded all the facts about who I am and kind of took over my life.  No one projected that onto me.  I did it myself.  During that period of my life, I blamed my singleness on the fact that I was fat, and my assumption that guys are shallow.  I was convinced that no one would ever like me because of how I looked.  But that isn't true at all.  Guys didn't want to date me because I was putting out the vibes that I was miserable and not worth it.  That is 100% my fault.

I let the way I felt about my exterior stand in the way of my happiness for almost ten years.  I let it  consume me and bring me down.  I believe in a God who created me the way I am for a reason and with a purpose, but I let the lies of the enemy into my head and I believed that I was worthless and not fit to be loved.  I let that mindset hold me back from being effective in the purpose and the life that God has given me.  And I'm angry about it.  But there is no good in holding onto the past, so instead of wallowing in the wasted time, I plan to use what I went through and the things I learned for good.  I want to inspire and help as many people as I can with issues of self esteem.

Look at my face in this picture.  I look uncomfortable.  Maybe it's not obvious to those who don't know me, but that's not a natural smile.  I should be having fun, but all I was thinking about was what this picture would look like and how fat I was.  And this wasn't even me at my biggest!  I will never let this happen again.  Nothing should be able to steal my joy.

 
Tomorrow I start a new diet bet, and today I submitted my weigh-in picture.  Here it is:

I need to lose 9 pounds in the next 4 weeks to win this bet, but I plan to lose 12.  Three pounds a week is a totally reasonable goal!

I won!!!

The Diet Bet is over, and I have won, despite very poor self control during the first two weeks.  In fact, by Easter, which capped off those weeks, I had gained two pounds from my initial weigh in.  When I drove to Tucson the following day to spend a week in a city where my mindset is stuck on weight gain because of old associations from living there during my fat miserable period of life, I was afraid that this diet bet would be a bust and I would lose my $25 buy in.  But then I used that fear to my advantage and kicked it into high gear.

What resulted in my determination was a loss of 12 pounds in two weeks, and it didn't even feel like I was killing myself to do it.  I was watching what I ate, but not to a super-strict regimented degree, and I was exercising moderately.  I was more consistent with keeping track of my calorie intake and burn each day with MyFitnessPal (where my name is FitnessyKate if you would like to be friends), and that always keeps me on track really well.

I'm still waiting to hear how much money I won from the $63,000 diet bet pot, but as soon as I have the credits, I will be putting another $25 or so into a new bet and starting all over again.  What great motivation to lose 4% of my body weight each month!  At that rate plus a few pounds more, I will be under 200 pounds in two months.  I have been waiting for that moment for a long time, and it is gonna be a BIG deal.  The last time I was under 200 pounds was 14 years ago.  14 YEARS!!!  I feel like I should throw a party when that moment comes.  Or have a ceremony or something.  I could take 130 pounds of something to symbolize all the weight I will have lost up to that point and carry it to a fire and toss it in and watch it burn as a I do a crazy dance around the flames.  Someone would definitely need to film that and we could make it into a documentary.  Maybe it will become the new thing to do at parties for giant amounts of weight lost.  Or in the loony bin, where I will no doubt end up if anyone witnesses these crazy antics.  What?  I can't stop the madness.  It's an integral part of who I am.  And I like me.

So on that note, it's time for some pictures.  I have put together some before and after pictures, also known as "Who Wore It Better: Weight Loss Edition".

First off, we have my diet bet weigh-in and weigh-out pictures.

After seeing the difference in those pictures, I realized that I could probably see a difference in the dress I wore on Easter:

 I was right. So then I took a sideways shot just for good measure.

 I wonder what it will look like next month after I lose another ten pounds!  Stay tuned, I'll post more pictures then!

Who's that girl?

Yesterday I went to Disneyland with my amazing friend Andreawesome.  (Andrea + awesome = Andreawesome)

In order to do so, I had to skip my Geography Lab class, but Thursdays we always just work in our lab groups and then turn in a lab each week.  I have just one lab partner, and we trade off printing out the lab, then we fill it out together or divide and conquer, whichever method makes more sense according to the time we have available.  It was my turn to print out the lab, so I printed out and completed it the night before and made arrangements to meet my partner by the mail room where we often see each other on Thursdays after our morning classes get out, and give her the lab so she could turn it in.

I got there early and was sitting with my legs crossed (like a lady, not kid-style) on a big cement slab waiting for her, when I noticed the windows to the mail room.  They are tinted pretty darkly and make an acceptable mirror.  What I saw looking back at me was a girl with crossed legs, in the same outfit I was wearing, but she was THIN.  I stared at her, knowing full well that it was me, but not really believing it.  Was this a trick mirror window?  When I sit down, I feel like a meatball with arms and legs, but the girl in the mirror had a defined waist, and not a hint of meatball anywhere!

Okay, so curvy is a more accurate descriptor than thin.  But curvy in the best and true sense of the word, not what some people used to try to tell me I was to make 300 pounds sound better.  That wasn't curvy, that was just round.

I didn't take a picture of my reflection, so I just drew a little picture of what I saw:

In real life, I'm still more meaty than that, but I did what I could with the drawing.  My sister is the artist in the family, not me.

I was telling Andreawesome later at Disneyland about this experience and how I still feel really fat, and I don't have a realistic view of myself.  This is kinda funny because at the other end, when the numbers were rapidly climbing upward on the scale, I still felt as thin as I had been in high school.  But then I would see pictures of myself and all of that would be shattered. 

Eventually I started feeling fat, and now that I'm not so huge anymore, it is still a constant surprise when I see the evidence of my smaller size in pictures or reflections.  I feel bigger now than I remember feeling when I was 19, but at that time I was wearing a size 20, and right now I'm in an 18.  The mind is a crazy thing.  I wonder if I'll ever just feel the actual size that I am??

The one aspect that I do see accurately is my face.  I know if I'm doing poorly in my eating when my face doesn't feel thin, and for the last couple months until about two weeks ago, I was feeling and seeing the pudge in my face.  I feel so self-conscience when I know I have a noticeable double chin, so I love seeing pictures where my face looks thin, like this one from Disneyland with Andreawesome:

Also, this picture just rules because we're wearing Nerd crowns that I made for us. 

Because of the Diet Bet (see previous post) that is coming to an end this Monday, I have really cracked down in the last couple weeks and I've lost 10 pounds since April 1.  As soon as this bet is over, I'm gonna enter another one to keep me motivated and give me an incentive to continue to lose 4% of my weight each month. 

I still have around 10 pounds to lose to get back down to where my weight was at its lowest early last year.  I saw that number only once on the scale, and then it went back up a bit and leveled, so I shouldn't even really count it, but I do.  It is my first goal to get back to that number, my second goal to hit 199, and my third goal to get to 180.  From there, we'll see how I look and feel, and I'll decide if I want to continue to lose.  I don't have a firm end number in my head, although I say I'm shooting for 160.  Really, I have no idea what that will look like.  What I'm really aiming for is healthy.

And in the meantime, I am enjoying fitting into smaller and smaller sizes than I could previously wear.  Newest dress, size 15-17.  Purchased on the way home from Disneyland.

Hey, there's that girl in the mirror again!