uncool

so, you know how i spent much of last week bleeding from my surgery? lucky me, guess what time of the month it is... by my post-op appointment on the 11th, i will be wishing i'd bought stock in always.

just the way i am

today, i am happy with my body.

i'm up .4 pounds from yesterday, but i don't care. my knees are still too fat to wear my riding boots, but that's okay. i'm still "overweight" by a good 15 pounds, but that's fine by me.

tonight we're going right from work to an alumni weekend event at hub's alma mater. it's a mural tour of the city, followed by a tour of a local brewery and a reception at a local concert venue. i wanted to look nice so... i reached into my closet and grabbed a pretty mauve-ish top and a charcoal gray sweater. and put them on. and knew i looked nice.

have i mentioned that i'm wearing jeans i bought in 2003? when i was at my lowest weight? because i am. in 2003 i wanted to lose 20 more pounds (to hit 135). now, i'd be pretty thrilled to lose 19 more (to hit 140). but i'm CONTENT. this is a good size for me. i look good, i feel good, i rocked the shit out of my spinning class last night. this is good.

yes, of course, the backwings, the cottage cheesey thighs, the goddamn knee fat. but ya know? i'm probably going to wear mostly jeans and 3/4 sleeve tops anyway. i'm fine.


...............


yesterday, independent of one another, two of my friends told me they were proud of me for how far i'd come. two people understand that it's a fight, every day, and not just a case of not drinking soda and parking farther away from the mall.

i'm grateful to both of them, for seeing it.

and i'm proud of me, too.

jumped the weigh-in gun

okay, okay. TODAY is weigh-in day. and TODAY i'm at 159.0. still, no complaints from me. i'm wearing a medium tank, a medium top and gap size 12a jeans from... 2003. a little out of style, a little unflattering, a little reminder of when my life was on a wild upswing (i had be cast as understudy to a fantastic role, my play was being produced, i had lots of loving friends and had lost 30 pounds... and then the shit hit the fan).

so. this is great. i look, well, thin. i feel great. i could stay here, if not for the batwings and thigh lumps, and, hi, a little definition in the calf areas would be swell. if i never intended to wear anything other than jeans and 3/4 sleeve tops, i'd stay here for realsies.

but i'm still pushing. here's what for:

• i really want to lose 4 pounds before may 22. totally doable.
• i definitely need to finally finish c25k by july.
• i'd love to drop another 10 pounds by then and hit the beach feeling really good.
• i need to bring the weight-loss part of my life to a close by september, and i want to be between 135-140 pounds-- another 5-10 pound loss after july's goal.

tonight i have w2, wo2 scheduled. and a half hour walk with my husband. tomorrow i spin and add a 1/2 hour of weights. thursday we're going to an alumni weekend even at BNGS (where my husband did his undergrad): beer. friday i have high hopes that w2, wo3 will keep me from stuffing my face at a jewelry demo. saturday, a morning walk and weight workout should keep my from eating myself to death at a first communion party. SELTZER. srsly.

teamwork

i have to be honest. i don't know how this happened, but i'm 158.6 today.

okay, i have an inkling. we spent the whole weekend together, save about 4 hours when he was at band practice. i felt... weird. rude, almost, eating in front of him. so i only ate when i was really, quite sincerely hungry. HOW F'ING NOVEL! and i ate (mostly) what FELT FOODISH. there was, more than once, ezekiel bread with natural peanut butter and a banana. there were a couple of eggs, some turkey bacon, even a potato shredded and fried, and, yes, a handful of chocolate chips.

but i've been eating low according to calorieking. the lazy weekend days found me coming in at 1000-1200 calories. i dunno, man. i wasn't hungry. i wasn't dizzy or sleepy or headachey. i think... it's okay. especially on days when i lay around.

my husband's loss is hovering around 18 pounds. he's displeased. i can't say i blame him, but he seems to think he could "lose a pound a day just by taking a walk" and skip the calorie restriction. i have to disagree... but i try not to be the know-it-all. i don't think he quite gets how HUGE it is to be losing that much-- we're talking about 10 days here-- he only sees where he wants to be (220) and not how he's going to get there (a pound a day is a solid start, no?).

good morning campers!

so. okay. where the fuck are we??

let's start with me, and then you can feel free to chime in. but you probably won't. 24 followers and many hits a day, but nobody says a damn thing. anyway. me.

• tmi, but, oh, so true. i am bleeding slightly worse than a normal period. but... i don't have my period yet. as far as i know. i'm in a lot of pain, too. this sucks monkey balls.
• tmi some more: i'm constipated because, um, moving, you know, THEM, puts painful pressure on the general region that's bleeding. yes, even if i take something to help.
• that's the last tmi.
  
• i haven't heard the all-clear from my doctor yet. today is a week. this means... it's still remotely possible that i have cancer.
  
• my husband is on a (medically aided) (as in, with medicine) diet and has lost 14 pounds in 6 days. FOURTEEN. can everybody spell jealous? at this rate, which, i expect, will slow down, but STILL, if it doesn't, he will reach his goal weight in about 35 days. motherfucker.
  
• him being on a diet means WE'RE not snacking at night, except for the 1/3 of a cup of ice cream we each have. you read that right: less than a serving. LESS.
• which is awesome for me because i might actually be down to 160 by next weigh in.
• oh, yeah, totally not gonna be 140 for The Wedding, new goal: 155.
• that's 1.25 pounds a week.
  
• doable. even if i can't workout as hard.
  
• also means no way am i going to be 135 in july when i *hope* we'll be going on a fabulous, all-inclusive caribbean vacation. new goal: 145.
• that's 1.5ish pounds a week.
• doable, if i work out.
• new timeline for 135 (or end, in any event): mid-september when we go to mil's for a last pre-grad school hurrah.
• that's about another 1.25 pounds per week.
• OKAY. and. i did my fafsa. (yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay)
• that's about it.

what's new with you?


(ps-- of course i'm all kinds of anxious for no good reason today. that's always why i do bullet posts.)

um, oops.

so, at my husband's insistence yesterday i called my gyn to see when i could exercise again.

a week.

oh... so... not three days?

didja notice my loss??

of course not. because it was .2 pounds. uncool.

w2, wo1... only three (four?) weeks later

i dragged my ass out to the track last night to do week 2, workout 1 of couch to 5k. i don't think i've ever gotten to week 2 before. so, ya know, yay. it was fine. it was easy enough (except all that math) and i got through it. maybe it wasn't the BEST plan given the surgery i had five days ago, but the bleeding had to start sometime, right? RIGHT??

(i'm kidding, of course. the bleeding WAS expected to start any moment. the cramping... well, that i would have preferred to be done with, but it's all inside the expected parameters.)

so. i guess i mentioned here that i'd been smoking? a lotish? i stopped. on friday. i also stopped letting diet soda be a regular part of my life. and i stopped using the "clinical strength" deodorant i'd been using. see a pattern?

dude. i've had two cancer scares in six months. i'm only 26. i'm trying to stop tearing down my body and treat it with a little love.

LEEP

well... that was easy.

here's how it went down. i freaked the fuck out, like, BAD, for about 24 hours. arrived at the surgicenter at 7:45am, freaking the fuck out BAD BAD. got asked about allergies. none. i got taken back, asked about allergies some more. still none. gave a urine sample. that was tough, given i'd already peed and not been able to drink anything, but i managed. told the anestesiologist would be in shortly and to put on the paper gown. he shows up, asks me about allergies. none. i... start crying. my husband gives me tissues, my doctor arrives and wipes my tears. i am not joking. she is that awesome. the anesthesiologist does my iv (my phlebotomist friend says that's why i have a bruise. fuckin, doctors, man. think they can do anything.) and then my doctor says, "here comes the good stuff."

ten seconds later i feel fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. i'm told i repeatedly asked what the street name of that shit was. i don't think that's true. i only remember asking twice.

i got wheeled into the or. i thought, hm, this should be making me freak the motherfuck out. weird. i climb onto the table and scooch until my butt is over the hole...

and then the nurses were talking about shin splints, so i opened my eyes and said, "for shin splints you have to lay a bathtowel on the bathroom floor in front of you, stand on the end and scrunch the towel under your feet with your toes. do it every day for a couple weeks until they feel better then do it a couple times a week. it's about you calves, not your shins."

and they said, "oh, becklette has a cure for shin splints. here, honey, we're just going to put your panties on to hold the pad in place."

then they moved me to a chair, gave me diet coke and peanut butter crackers and brought in my husband.

fin.

still a little wigged out by the time-loss/alien abduction aspect of it all, but, wow. that was easy.

this time tomorrow

this time tomorrow, i'll be unconscious on a table, naked save a paper gown, with strangers wrangling my feet into stirrups so my doctor can use and electrified wire to cut out a chunk of my cervix.

oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

fuck.

heidi montag used to be pretty

the lipo, i get. who doesn't want to be thinner in specific areas while maintaining what (little) curvaceousness she has? but the boobs? how does she sleep? and the face. oh, man, she was PRETTY. not beautiful or striking or exotic or ugly but oddly appealing, she was honest-to-god PRETTY.

my mother asked me yesterday if i was done losing weight. "you weigh what you weighed in high school, right? why would anyone want anything better than that??"

i wasn't thin in high school like you were, mom. besides, my upper body is smaller but my lower body is stubbornly the same size (i think! i'll tell you after my size 31-- nee 12-- jeans arrive from loft tomorrow). i wear an actual medium top now. like, for real for real. i'm getting rid of larges. my husband brought me this dress back from florida in a medium. it could be snugger in the bust.

a medium.

i'm wearing an ann taylor top i bought, oh, maybe two years ago? for less than $10. i had it in two colors in large and loved it, so when it went way on sale i bought the mediums. in three colors. last week, i swear, the large fit. today, though, i'm wearing a medium and it's just right. weird.

i wonder if i'm going to need smalls ever. i'm hoping to get down to 150ish but The Wedding and 140ish by mid-july. shit. i think another 20 pounds might mean another size. never thought of it. balls.

and on the third day i had an omelet

leek soup didn't go quite as planned. of course.

i made & ate it friday night after not eating much in preparation for a deep-tissue massage (not something i want to do on a full stomach). i ate/drank it saturday up until dinner with my uncle. hoagies. and chips. and a piece of shortbread. and two truffles. oops. sunday i had coffee in the morning before going to feed my friends' cats. my plan was to feed the kitties, drink my coffee while watching s4, e5-8 of dexter on demand at their house (with their permission, of course), go home & leek soup, clean, leek soup again and then head back to feed/dexter again. instead? i sat on my butt for seven solid episodes. with a cat on my lap. drinking diet coke.

oh well. i got a lot of my cleaning done when i got home. i ate a broccoli omelet for dinner: 2 eggs, 2 whites, 1 cup chopped broccoli, butter. it was delicious and SORT OF like the fast-breaking meal of lean protein & veg prescribed in the plan. the thing is? i have a ton of leeks & "broth" (leek water) left. i hope my husband likes vichyssoise.

verdict? well... i dunno. i didn't DO IT do it, so i don't want to judge, but it was pretty easy. and, honestly, i *did* drop a couple pounds but leeks are a diuretic, so who knows.

how many pounds? ah, well. it depends on who you ask. according to my home scale, i weigh 161.4 today which is fucking awesome.

according to the scale at the hospital where i just had my pre-admission testing? 158.9. which? oh. em. eff. gee. the one fifties.

of course, reason dictates that i use my home-scale weight for official documentation, but DAMN. 158.9. in jeans, shoes and a sweater. damn.

damn.

trending

i think it's clear to see from the list over there (>>>>>>) that my weight continues to trend downward. not necessarily at the pace i'd prefer, but what are you going to do, right? especially when you're eating leftover green bean casserole 2 meals a day.

my leep is scheduled for next thursday. this morning i dropped my husband off at the airport to visit his family. tonight i have a shopping trip planned. tomorrow: work and a massage! i'm leek souping this weekend, but my uncles will be in town so... it might be more like 3 days but only half-assed. and i'm cat-sitting.

there will be a 5-week spinning class after this one ends (in. two. weeks.) and we're definitely going to take it. LOVE spinning. i'm looking forward to moving into the city so i can take spinning at BNGS's gym five days a week. JUST KIDDING. maybe 2 or 3. can't drop the ball on weight lifting, ya know, or running. oh, wait... where is that running ball?

anyway. still alive. still pretty freaked, though the leep ain't no thing... according to my grandmother who had it almost 50 years ago (before it was LEEP when it was still called a "coning") and my mom who claims that "everyone who's anyone has had that." sometimes i feel like my mom maybe could have provided me with a little more information about lady-business growing up. which is why MY hypothetical daughters will know these things:

1. two methods is better than one
2. he might be carrying something you don't know about (see: mono & hpv)
3. kick, scream, scratch, bite, WHATEVER, if you don't want something to happen to you-- be DONE to you-- fight like hell
4. preventative care is important (2 cancer scares and 4 fillings later i have the message)

::end soapboxing::

also, end blogging. it's too goddamn early.


oh, ps-- i hadn't seen my husband's grandfather since christmas and HE DIDN'T RECOGNIZE ME. score.