Ready, set, RESET!

Oh hey! Remember me? I sure remember a me that I want to get back to. Here's a quick recap:

I lost a bunch of weight and documented here for all to be motivated by. It held me accountable. I loved it. I got down to 215 pounds.

In 2013 I started working at a veterinarian office with pretty endless sweets on the weekends. At first I resisted, but it started to get me.

In 2014 I quit trying altogether in favor of grief eating. I gained a ton of weight back.

In 2016 my then-fiance and I were on a reality weight-loss show and I gained a bunch of muscle and lost a lot of fat before our wedding.

The first year of marriage was very stressful and I once again abandoned all progress to deal the way I know I shouldn't but I do anyway: stress-eating.

And I'm back to 271 pounds, and I feel gross and my body moves like an old woman, and I don't like how I look in anything, and I'm just uncomfortable all the time.

Tim has had so much self-control in the last month or so, and he lost 18 pounds in the weeks before we went to South Africa in the beginning of August. He gained 5 back while we were there, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had actually lost a few pounds! I've been having a hard time coming up with any motivation to really put in the effort to lose weight again, but something in seeing no weight gain on a trip I thought had certainly added more pounds gave me that little kick I needed!

Tim and I have been going to bed early (10pm), and this morning I woke up at 6. I *almost* got out of bed and went to the gym, but I decided to be lazy. I don't know why, other than just bad habits and self-sabotage, but I made up for it tonight when we were trying to come up with something to do before bed that wouldn't keep us up until midnight, because we're really trying to stay on this new schedule and start getting enough sleep.

Tim had suggested going to a movie earlier in the day, but I vetoed that idea when I realized we would go to bed after midnight for a movie I didn't even care about. T-Mobile Tuesday was giving us $2 apiece for Baskin Robbins, but I nixed that idea because last time we did that, Tim was mad at himself afterward for eating ice cream and sabotaging himself. So I suggested a walk.

We took 20 minutes to walk around our block, which is 1.09 miles if you include one cul-de-sac, which we did. We are committing to walking together 5 evenings a week, and I'm really looking forward to some consistency. My gym workouts have been few and far between lately.

I'm feeling motivated, but even if the motivation goes away, I am committing to this. To myself. To my husband and our future children. To my life.

After our walk tonight

The Color Run strikes again

Three times I have signed up for the Color Run.  Three times upon signing up for the Color Run, I have sworn that I would be able to run the whole thing.  Three times I have failed.  But I'm not giving up.

Last weekend, Rocio and I braved the early early early early morning and headed to Dodger Stadium, where we fogged (fake jogged... it's totally a real thing) our way through a 3.1 mile course dotted with five stations of colored cornstarch that transformed our white shirts into a mash-up of different hues.

And this time there were hills.

The first two color runs we did were completely flat courses, but not Dodger Stadium.  Straight out of the gate, we were headed uphill, and my already unimpressive endurance was cut down dramatically by the onslaught of a mountain tall enough to intimidate even the hikiest of hikers.  Okay, that might be a little bit of an exaggeration.  Or maybe even entirely false.  Okay, so really it's just a normal hill, not even as steep as my driveway (which is crazy steep, for the record.), but when I get winded walking up hills, you can bet that running sure isn't gonna happen.

And then, once we had gone downhill for a little bit, there were all these switchbacks, making us go back up.  So I just stuck to the fogging on the downhill segments and trudged my way up on the torture uphill portions.  It was a pretty good system.  It got me to the end at least.

Since there had to be hills, I was extra grateful for the clouds that made the sun less brutal.  Our first color run was miserably hot.  I would do hills with cloud cover over a straight course in mid-afternoon under an unrelenting sun any day!

Oh, and I've lost 5 pounds since my last blog post. HALLELUJAH!

I WILL fully run a 5K soon.

The relaunch of Fitness K8

Nothing says TIME TO LOSE WEIGHT like ordering your wedding dress a size smaller than you currently wear.  That's exactly what I did, and I have 184 days to make it fit.  I also ordered a bridesmaid dress a size smaller than I currently wear, and I have a little less than two months to fit into that one!  Time to get back to the gym!

It turns out that I cope poorly with grief, and while dealing with the loss of my closest uncle last year, I gained 30 pounds.  Previous to that, I had put 20 pounds back on when my life got ultra busy and I was working at a place that bombarded me with food and lured my inner glutton out of hiding every single weekend.

You can imagine how defeated I feel, losing almost half of the progress I made before.  But if I sit around lamenting the current state of my body and wallowing in self-pity, nothing will ever improve.  Instead of talking about how much better I used to feel and look, I'm gonna get up and take myself back to that place.  If I lose a mere two pounds each week for the next 26 weeks until my wedding, I will be back at my lowest weight in the losing process.  Then I'll have to have that dress altered to be quite a bit smaller.

Here are some things I realize that are different about me from the last time I weighed what I do now:

1) I actually really like myself.
2) I even like and appreciate my body, regardless of the fact that it's not in the shape I want it to be.
3) There is no pressure to change myself so that any guy will be attracted to me.  I scored the best man while I was much fatter than I would like to be, and he's attracted to me even now.
4) I've lost weight before and I know what my body is capable of.
5) I know that I like to exercise and eat healthfully.

This time I believe that I deserve to look great.  I know that I'm worth it.  I don't feel bad putting myself first anymore.  I am worthy of the love I have from Tim, and I am worth the effort it takes to get healthy again.

With those things in mind, there's nothing stopping me from conquering this new challenge.

And here are the pictures I'm using for my "before" pictures. Stay tuned for the journey!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Fitness K8 or bust!

Alright.  My season of gluttony is officially over.  I'm sick of feeling like a sausage in all of my clothes and even in my skin.

Right now I'm wearing workout clothes because I went to the gym for the first time in months, and I wore the gym clothes all day because I knew I would be about 80 million times more likely to force myself to go if I was already dressed for it.  So on one hand that was smart, but on the other hand, the shirt I'm wearing is a tube top with another shirt over it, and the top of the tube is tiiiiiiiiiiight.  My armpit areas are in pain from the top of this shirt.

This is not good.  And I have no idea how I let this happen.  Why is it so easy to get out of good habits that make you feel amazing, and you practically have to move Heaven and Earth to reinstate those habits?  It literally takes an act of God, at least for me.  Because when I'm not relying on Him, I sink pretty low.

This is how my niece Lilly and I feel about my lack of self control:

I mean, I still look okay.  I haven't gone back up to my epic proportions from the dark years.  And apparently I like to take selfies with my right hand on my hip.  But I am missing my smaller self, and I wasn't even close to my goal yet.

So I have some new goals.  I want to lose 50 pounds in 100 days.  That's about 15 pounds a month, which is totally doable at my size.  I am going back to the gym and I have enlisted a friend to meet me there a couple times a week.  I'm also gonna be doing Blogilates (a free online personal trainer who is really great and posts new videos all the time and comes up with a workout calendar each month) videos every day.  I'm getting back to limiting my portions and not eating as many sugars and breads.  I don't cut anything out completely, but I know what should be limited.  I just need to listen to my body.  Right now I feel full pretty much all the time, and it doesn't feel good.

I don't want my face to look like this anymore:

I miss when it looked like this:

And in 3 months, it will again.  Adios to feeling gross!

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.

Tickets to the gun show

Are you intimidated by my guns?



Yeah, I didn't think so. Mostly right now it's just embarrassing flab and not sleek showy biceps. Not that I want to be a body builder or anything, but I would like to have nicer arms. Toned arms. Arms that make grown men cry and women weep with bitter jealousy.

Not really.

What I really want is to not be embarrassed by my arm flab when I wear a wedding dress someday. Do you know how many pictures of me there will be? I don't want to hate them all. I want to be toned and look nice. Not that I'm planning this wedding, although I would like to. God has not yet brought me to the man He created me for. I am waiting, sort of patiently. Sometimes not so patiently. Although not so impatiently as to say yes to someone I would like to marry but I know is not God's plan for me. Sorry, I'm just kinda sad right now.

Being a Noah, I was born to be muscular. It's in our DNA. This brought me a lot of grief as a teen before I figured out that not everyone has the same build, and my body is not meant to fit in size 6 jeans. If I was nothing more than skin and bones, even THOSE would not fit into a size 6. I'm built like a softball player, and I'm totally fine with that now. But I'm also living with the repercussions of getting extremely fat, and now I have all sorts of flab that just ads to my already bulky frame. And I hate sleeves. If it were up to me, I would go sleeveless all the time. Hence the recent arm workouts.

I know it's not good to work out the same set of muscles every day, because they need time to heal, so I'm doing weight training with my arms every couple days. I'm hoping that at some point, I'll be able to see results, although right now my attempts just seem futile. But this time I'm gonna stick with it and not give up after a few workouts, like I have in the past. I'm going for lovely arms.

Aside from this new arm goal, I'm also getting back into being disciplined about losing weight in general. I did lose some last year before gaining some back during the Season of Temptation, but overall I am only ten pounds down from this time last year. Not good. I did maintain pretty well, but I'm feeling sluggish and gross, so it's time to kick my butt and drop some more weight. I still want to lose 70 pounds, and to help get me to that ultimate goal, I have joined not one, but TWO weight loss challenges/competitions.

The first is really just a challenge to lose 10% of my body weight in ten weeks, but there is a prize if I do so, and if my story is picked to be shared, I get an even bigger prize. I like prizes! I have to take a before and after picture for this challenge, so here is my before:



The second is a competition with the same group against whom I competed last year. This one has a cash prize for first and second place, and the goal is to lose the highest percentage. My friend Sullia beat me last year by just a little, and this year I seek retribution. She is going down. There will be much trash talking in the coming months, but it's really just because we love each other and both do much better with a little healthy competition. But I'm gonna win. That is happening.

Actually, for those of you needing some competition to get you motivated, this one starts on Sunday, and I encourage you to join. It goes for 12 weeks, and there is a buy-in of $10, with the first place winner receiving 2/3 of the money and second place receiving 1/3. I met some really good friends in this group last year, and it was so helpful in keeping me on track. If you want in, let me know and I'll get you hooked up. But I will beat you. Just know that

Downsizing

Downsizing one's wardrobe is a complicated matter. Especially when one is aware that one will be in one's current size only temporarily before further downsizing is required, and one does not have massive amounts of money to spend on clothing.

Okay, enough with that ridiculous formality. Winter is here, and I am facing an interesting dilemma. All of my jackets and sweatshirts, with the exception of my very thin pink one that I bought and flaunted in this post: Out with the old, are hilariously big on me. I keep this huge pink snow jacket in my car for emergency coldness, and had to bring it out the other day when my aunt and I were having a garage sale and freezing our butts off. It was a 3X, and really looked quite comical. I should have taken a picture, but I didn't. I think I need to go hunting around at the Salvation Army and the Goodwill for some cute used jacket that I can spend a minimal amount of money on and then do the same thing when I need a new one next winter, until I am the size I want to be, and then I'll splurge and spend money on something I know I'll be able to wear until it's unwearable.

I have, however, been thinking about investing in a good new sweatshirt that will maybe fit me snugly now and then be a decent looseness in the future. I've been eyeballing different sweatshirts here and there, but on Friday at Disneyland, I found the one. I had a coupon for 20% off, and they have a Jack Skellington sweatshirt that I had admired for quite some time, so I was able to save some money on something I love! My friend Andrea (whom I call Andreawesome... because she IS!) has the same sweatshirt, and wore it that day, so when I bought mine that night, we matched. I might be a dork, but I still think it's fun to match with my friends sometimes.



I love my new sweatshirt, but the best part of it is the size. I used to have to buy men's sweatshirts in XXL. Well, this is also a men's sweatshirt, because that was all they had, but the size? A SMALL!!!! I was expecting to fit into the Large, and when that was too big, I tried on the Medium. I was a bit incredulous that even that one had some room in it, so I tried on the small, and then I tried on a different small just to be sure. But it fit! Small was the right size!

I am fully aware that I am not a size small in women's clothing. I am also 100% content with the fact that my body will never be a women's size small. My build is large and muscular, and I am perfectly fine with that. It's not about comparing myself to other women and what sizes their bodies are. I look only at myself: the way I looked in the past, the size I know my own body to be capable of achieving, and the way I feel. I know that I still have a lot to lose, and I will work on losing it until it's gone, but I am happy with my body for now. And every pound I lose makes me feel better, which is the real goal anyway!

Maybe it's better that nobody loves me

Valentine's Day just passed, and I heard people talking about having all this candy lying around and being tempted by it. I didn't have that problem because nobody loves me.

I suppose that's not entirely true, but I like to pretend I'm all sad and lonely to get attention. Hahaha just kidding. I know that so many people love me, it's not even funny. I have the best family ever, and they all love me a ton. And as my mother once said, "Katie has more friends than a rich man giving out free breakfast at IHOP." It's true. The difference between the rich man and me, though, is that I'm not buying anyone breakfast at IHOP or anywhere, because I'm as broke as they come! No one could ever accuse me of buying my friends. People just love me because I'm so pretty. Hahahahaha!!! Just kidding again. But really, I have a million friends, and I know they love me, and I love them. The people who love me are a huge part of why my life is so great.

But somehow I have never been on the receiving end of the chocolate, roses, and general mushiness that make February 14th what it is. I think that for the longest time, it was because I was so uncomfortable with my body, that my identity was wrapped up in being fat and I didn't think any guy could ever like me... like THAT. So I put up the friend persona and then lamented yearly that I was alone and nobody loved me on Valentine's Day.

This year was different, though. While I still have a lot of weight to lose (68 pounds to be exact), I have realized that "the fat girl" is not who I am. I have a TON to offer somebody, and besides all my inner qualities that rock, I'm looking pretty good on the outside these days too! I feel conceited because I look in the mirror so much, but I can't help it: I look like a new person and I'm not used to seeing this pretty girl. My sweet friends tell me that I was always pretty, but when I looked in the mirror, all I could see was the fat. It's hard to ignore, and incredibly painful.

On Valentine's Day, there was a knock on the door as I was getting ready for school in the morning. I was in the middle of putting on deodorant, so I went to the door with the stick still in my hand. It was my cousin Alex, her arms full of all those things a girl could ask for on a day devoted to love, and while the words that came out of my mouth were, "Nice. You're holding flowers and a balloon, and I'm holding deodorant," there were actually no bitter thoughts in my mind. It was a funny scenario, and I said the obvious joke, but immediately, I was aware that I was thankful to be single this year. I couldn't be happier to have escaped the guy I thought I would be with, and I'm not afraid that I will be alone for the rest of my life, so a Valentine's Day on which I am single is no longer a source of pain. It's just another day, and one that I am confident I will get to celebrate with an amazing man in the future. And the fact that I have never been able to celebrate one before will make it all the better when I finally have someone. And we'll go out on a date, and I will look amazing and thin. But just like the fat, those things will not be what define me. First and foremost, I am a child of God, and I am fearfully and wonderfully made. God has gifted me with a lot of talent, a fantastic sense of humor, and a big heart capable of loving unconditionally. And that's just a little bit of who I am.

So at the end of that day, I didn't have any candy lying around tempting me. I did, however, go to a church service where all the ladies were given roses. I had my flowers after all!

Let's talk about my butt

I hope this isn't awkward for anyone... I mean, everybody has one. My family may be a little too free on the subject, which means I grew up with constant B.A.ing and comments about someone else's butt being my face and vice versa, but it's just who we are, and I love us.

My butt has always been very flat. It has also consistently through my lifetime been hard as a rock, as my cousin Alex likes to tell strangers and guys that I think are cute, so that's nice and embarrassing, but it's also true. Even when I got fat, sure my hips got wider, but the flatness of my buttox was a constant.

Until recently.

I think the elliptical machine has magical butt-shaping powers, because lately I've been noticing a new lifted curvy aspect to mine. I've caught myself feeling my new and improved gluteus maximus more than once in public, and I wonder how many people have been a witness to that seemingly odd phenomenon. I don't really care though. I'm too excited about my new derier! <-- I totally don't know how to spell anything in French but you all know what I'm saying there. Don't be a French spelling snob.

On Monday I was on the phone with my best friend Kelli, who lives in Nebraska now, and knows the former shape of my tush all too well. So I told her about the changes, and she wanted to see a picture so she could tell me if I was correct, or if I was delusional. The thing is, I was on my way to school, so it's not like I could find a place with any privacy in which to take this picture. So I told her I'd try. During my first class break of the evening, I went to the bathroom and waited until it was all clear, dropped trou (the underwear stayed on), turned sideways and snapped a shot of the curves in the mirror. Then I re-clothed myself just in time for the door to open. I felt a little like I was walking on the wild side. Maybe that seems too tame to be the wild side, but for me it was. So I sent the wild heiny picture to Kelli for assessment. Sure enough, she also saw the changes! So I sent it to my sister. Then I showed it to my aunt when I got home, sent it to my cousin Meredith later on, my mom's cousin Amy early this morning, and showed it to Alex today! All of those people backed up my claim of a more shapely rear, and left me wondering if THAT many people being familiar with my butt is really a good thing.

I almost want to post the picture here, but I don't approve of inappropriate content on my blog. Besides, I don't want to make anyone jealous. Haha!

Thanksgiving didn't kill me: A post from the gym

I was a little worried about Thanksgiving. All that delicious food taunting me all weekend certainly held the potential to completely derail me and all the progress I've made, and I wasn't taking the threat lightly. I am not willing to let food overpower me any longer.

You should have seen my turkey plate: I was pretty proud of my self control. I didn't leave anything out (besides the green beans, which you couldn't pay me to eat), but took small servings of everything. So small were the servings that I could see plate in between each item. I actually didn't think it would be enough food, but my stomach is considerably smaller than it used to be, and I have to get used to eating a lot less. I keep taking too much food these days because I can't eat as much as I used to! I don't finish the excess either, which is hard for me. But on Thursday, the small amount of food I took was the perfect amount! The rest of the weekend wasn't bad foodwise... I didn't eat as much salad as I would have liked, and I ate more bread than I usually do, but I kept the servings small and included exercise in each day.

Most importantly, a weekend away from my usual routine didn't ruin my mindset. In the past, I have been on track for a time until something throws me off and gets me back into the comfort of the old lifestyle... You know, the lifestyle that makes me miserable. But this time was different. I came home today with a need to go to the gym. I could feel the call of the elliptical echoing in my very soul. And my desire to eat healthfully is off the charts!

It was great seeing friends in Tucson this weekend and being encouraged by the comments on my progress! Next time I visit, there will be even less of me!

I never thought I'd say this: but I love the gym!!

A miracle has occurred: I have actually been enjoying the gym and looking forward to going! I've been using the elliptical machine for the last several days in a row, and I really love it. The first time I tried the elliptical, several years ago, I was sore for a solid week, so I thought that would also be the case this time around. I was wrong, though, proving that I am in better shape now than I was back then. That is an obvious fact, but I never get tired of realizing it. Sometimes I'm just going about my daily activities, and something will be physically easier to do, or I won't be as smooshed when trying to fit into a space that was previously tight, and I will be excited once again at the reminder that this problem that has been such a huge issue for so much of my life is decreasing. Maybe soon it will be gone altogether!

A surprise about the elliptical is how sore my chest muscles are! I know my arms participate while I'm on this machine, but it doesn't seem like holding the handle bars as they swing forward and back would do anything productive. My aching upper body muscles would have me believe otherwise, however. And hey, I'm not gonna complain that I'm working out more of my body without even realizing it. It's not painful while I'm doing it, just after. What's weird, though, is that my thighs aren't sore after, but during the workout they burn with the fire of a thousand suns. Not really. I just wanted to be dramatic there. They do burn, but it's more like a small campfire, or even a trash can fire, if you like a little danger. Which I don't.

Something that helps distract from the fire in my muscles is that I've been using my workout times as an opportunity to pray. It's amazing what prayer can do to take my focus off of my body: while praying, I honestly don't feel the pain. The sweat dripping into my eyes is a different story, but given a choice between sweat and torture, I'd take sweat any day! I go through prayer requests like a champion prayer warrior, so if you've got any, shoot 'em my way and I'll be happy to add you to the list.

Tonight I took some goofy pictures of myself in a state of blood, sweat and tears. Wait, no. Only sweat. And also, a "before the sweat" shot. The contrast is sort of funny. I like how different I can look at different times throughout a day. It's like I'm a whole other person! Word! Anyway, here they are:


Before the sweat.


It's blurry, but it's an action shot, so it works.


I have an amazing gift for making faces. I get it from my mother. She rules.


Can you see my sweat? That's attractive.


How do I have friends?? Honestly.

Welcome back, collar bones!

Something fantastic about losing weight is getting body parts back that I had forgotten about. I remember the day my waist came back. I had truly taken on the shape of the earth with a head, legs, and arms for several years, and then one day there was a little indent around my equator. It wasn't much of an indent, but it was there, and I was ecstatic!

The other day I was checking out my waist in the bathroom mirror when I noticed something else new about myself. Collar bones!!! I wasn't even sucking in! They were just hanging out on my neck/shoulder area! How fantastic is that??



I'm gonna enjoy these beautiful clavicles as they embark on their journey of becoming more defined, and help them along with all this hard work I'm undertaking. The more little rewards I get, the easier it becomes. And I am three pounds down toward my next goal. Thirty-seven to go!

I wonder what other pleasant surprises await me!!