A Better Version of Me

My eyes weren’t even open yet. The pain was exquisite. My belly ached with hunger.

Good. That means it’s getting smaller.

My muscles were raw and sore.

Good. They’re getting stronger.

I opened my eyes and peeked at the clock on my Blackberry. 8:45AM. Seven hours. Plenty. It’s doing better than the nine or more. Sleeping, the perfect escape from consciousness. Nobody can get to me in my sleep.

But, I’m sick of it. I’m sick of that life. I’m tired of being stuck in my head with all of this mess. And I’m disgusted with myself and my body.

I am disgusting.

I always have been. At one point, I thought I had excepted and celebrated what I look like. Until, I hit 140lbs.

Most of my jeans were almost too small. A few pairs wouldn’t actually close. I looked in the mirrors at the pounds of flesh I attempted to cram into clothes that were just plain too small.

Sausages have neater packaging than me.

I jiggle and wiggle like jello from every flap and fold. I can feel every inch of my flesh move when I move, and continue moving when I stop. It’s revolting. The idea that I will become obese to the point of immobility, if I don’t get a handle on this, was too much for me.

I choke on the bile that rises in my throat every time I envision my rolls growing into flaps.

I have never wanted to be “skinny”. All that I have ever wanted was to be within the healthy BMI range. I’ve never made it under 25. I have tried, and tried.

Every single diet you can imagine. Crash diets, healthy diets, calorie diets, and portioning diets. No meat, no carbs, not fat, etc. And none of those alone or in any combination was enough.

There is one thing I haven’t tried. Food diary plus exercise diary. Mood charting. A chart for everything in my life imaginable. Because unless I cut it open and dissect it, I may never be able to understand it. I may never understand me.

And I will never have control.

Running. There’s nothing that feels better than that searing fire in my lungs. I am jogging for the first mile, and walking the second. By the last half a mile, I am crawling. Sweat pours down my face, and I am gasping for that one breath that will stop this feeling of dying.

Dying. For one moment, I have a reason to suspect that there’s an external cause for that gnawing sensation I feel at the edges of my soul.

Endorphins. If I can’t cut, and I’m too sad to laugh, then what is a person to do? Run. Period. The ache of the muscles the next day, it’s exquisite. The satisfaction that I am doing well for my body and it hurts is enough for me.

The satisfaction that I completed 5.5 miles in one day. Anticipation of pushing that further. Lulled by the extraordinary exhaustion. Peace and clarity of the mind. And the excitement that I shed 2lbs in a week.

The best part? I am doing this by adopting healthier habits. Smaller portions. Less soda. A person cannot run and smoke at the same time. I have two different trackers for my mood. Sleep. Medication. I can’t control everything. But, that doesn’t mean I can’t monitor it.

I am determined to be a better version of me.

60 thoughts on “A Better Version of Me

  1. I have never been 140 lbs in my adult life.

    In fact, I’ve never even been able to get to the “ideal” weight for my height and build (145 lbs). I’ve come close. Once. It took a lot of work to lose 80 lbs, but calorie tracking was critical. Calories-in versus calories-out is the only thing that has ever worked for me, combined with a rigorous exercise regimen.

    I’ve since put the weight back on all over again. I have lots of excuses and they’re just excuses – work, the weather, hating nearly every form of exercise. I’m very unhappy with the way things are right now. I keep “deciding” that I will mend my ways, but I don’t do it because the reward is so gradual and the immediate discomfort is so punishing. I hope that getting past grad school will give me the push I need to get back to it.

    But I just discovered that a nearby mall now has an indoor skate park and rink. I think I need to dust off my skates…

    • Ideally, I should be around 115-120lbs. I have never been there in my adult life either. I’ve gone as far as 160lbs, outside of a pregnancy.

      My pregnancy stopped me at 166lb, 28lb gain. I was lucky. I think the only reason I was able to keep from skyrocketing was because I had to walk everywhere we went. We didn’t have a car at the time!

      The only thing that got me close was calorie counting. But, the first time I did it, I didn’t know what I do about nutrition. As I’ve been reading, what I did was beyond dangerous. 900 calorie diet, lost 15lbs in two months. This is the only time I will ever say this. Thank god I met my ex, who ate like complete garbage. He stopped me from potentially, unknowingly harming myself.

      Last year at around this time, I was in the midst of a serious hypomanic fit, and getting ready to direct a big children’s production. It has probably the biggest, most stressful thing I’ve done to date. My son was hyperactive. And we had counselors coming in and out of our house all morning. It didn’t afford me a lot of opportunities to sit around and recreationally eat. The circumstances were just right where I was around 128lbs around Easter. 3lbs lower and I would’ve had a 24 BMI, just inside the healthy range.

      115lbs should be the goal, but I’m striving for 120lbs. It’s more feasible. If I’ve been within 10lbs of that, I should bn able to get there if I work hard.

      Oh and by the way, I thought rollerskating was like riding a bike. It’s not. I went skating two Fridays ago, and I got broke!!! I still have giant bruises all over my legs. But, if I had a roller rink in my area, I think I’d go. I used to love to skate!

  2. sometimes monitoring it is a way of controlling it, I know how bad it sucks to gain weight, as mine fluxuates I find every excuse in the book, like its my winter coat, the fact is as I get older my body doesn’t do what it used to and is nowhere near the way it was back in the days where i was like an elastic band, so it’s easier now for me to gain it than to loose it.
    I think I have got to the point where I no longer strive to be the same size I was pre children, nor do I go with the promising myself I will get healthy, stop drinking so much coffee, and start doing that whole exercise thing, because deep down I know that its not going to happen and I am only setting myself up to feel shit house again,
    Just go with the flow honey, you know your own body, your limitations and your mood’s your doing the best thing by monitoring them, and keeping track of how your feeling and when,

    • Here’s the deal. At this point last year, even closer to the time where I was prechildren, I was more than ten punds lighter. I was actually more fit and a more appropriate weight with a toddler.

      There was never a time in my life where I was a healthy weight, with healthy eating habits, and physically fit. Actually, where I’m at now is ten pounds less than I was ten years ago, and 40 more pounds than I could lift.

      I’m in my late twenties, and my body is already rotting. Prediabetic. Pre-heart disease. Most days, I’m complaining of joint pains the same as my 60-something year old parents.

      I had previously resigned myself to the idea that I will always be like this. I’ll have serious healthy problems by 40, just because that was the genetic hand I was dealt. I’ve already had cervical cancer. Why not? I believed that people don’t change, and I had to accept myself as I was.

      That’s until I realized something. I was able to change my entire life through treatment of bipolar disorder and a lot of personal work. DIY therapy. Sure, I’m not fixed, but I never really expected to be.

      I might be able to accept that my body isn’t what it used to be after I’ve finished having my kids, and reverted back to a sedentary lifestyle.

      Until that day, I can’t give up on myself. Giving up on this could be the difference between living until I’m 85 or 65. Women don’t rebound well from heart attacks. My grandmother has had diabetes for 45 years, and I see her practically decaying in front of me. Yeah, she made it to 85, but she spent 40 years in a recliner.

      I don’t want that life. My dad almost died from a heart attack at 50. I want to live to see my grandchildren, and I don’t want to do it in a chair, bed, hooked up to dozens of tubes, and / or gobbling down dozens (more) of pills.

      If I fail, I fail. But, I’ve never kept a food diary before. A person becomes a lot more careful about what they consume when they have to ‘fess up. A 5’1 woman doesn’t need 2,000 calories a day. And almost 600 of that was in soda alone. No freakin wonder I’m prediabetic!

      This was prompted by a lot of things. I mentioned a few already. But, watching my 3 year old son struggling with weight was where I drew the line. How am I going to teach him good habits, unless I lead by example?

  3. I was wondering how you were feeling. I remember how I felt when I had to buy a size bigger the first time. It just couldn’t happen to me, I always had a nice shape no matter what I would eat or how much excersize I would get around to doing. I figured since I had went through two kids and was still small I wouldn’t ever have to worry. But it seemed the next time I got dressed and the next time and so on, I had to keep buying bigger sizes. It fianlly dawned on me that I was obese. Of course it was at the worse time of my life and weight gain wasn’t what was on my mind. But when I realized I was beyond obese, I wondered if it was too late. If I would ever have a normal body again. I regreted letting myself go this far. I mean I was one of those people that would see a really big person and say “shoot me if I ever get that big”. all I wished I could have was the opportunity to go back in time to the day I put on my normal clothes and noticed they were too tight. I have lost a lot since then but I will never be the same. I say all that to say this, a lot of people will try to make you feel better by saying your fine. I’m sure you are fine now, but if it got out of control, no one will be able to stop you from getting worse. Right now is the time to get control of the gaining. While you are still small. I am saying this as a friend. You will have lack of self esteem like you can’t imagine if you let it go much longer. hugs

    • I’ve always been an awful size. I was way too big to borrow clothes from my friends. I’m smaller than that now. I’ve been on the higher and lower end of my size for two years. The height of that was 143lbs in September. My range is about 132lbs-143lbs for my wardrobe. And I’m at the higher end.

      After I noticed my clothes didn’t fit right, I sat around feeling sorry for myself. I really hate the way I look. And I loathed myself for letting it get out of control again. No control, no motivation, and comfort binges. I haven’t reverted to comfort eating in a long, long time.

      I’ve been seeing a lot of weight related things on TV right now. One of the biggest motivators, outside of the ones I’ve already named, was seeing the quality of life for someone who is grossly morbidly obese, meaning BMI of 40 or higher. I don’t want to be there. It’s getting harder to chase my son down.

      It is partially a component of bad self-image. But, more than anything, it’s a revelation in this depression. I’d probably feel a lot better if I didn’t carry this extra weight. Depression might not hit me as hard if I had a little wiggle room with my weight and exercise. I have to stop feeling helpless and hopeless about certain things in my life.

      Like I said before, I might not be able to always help how I feel, or maybe even how I behave. But, I can help myself be healthy by adopting better eating, sleeping, and exercise habits.

        • I wanted everyone to know I’m only 5’1″. Some of the time between 18 and 21, I was only 4’11”. So, when I talk about high weights in 140-160lbs, in proportion, it is high for me. I don’t expect that there are a lot of people in my height range.

          And even if there are, I know how difficult it is to maintain weight and be a petite woman. Five pounds, for me, if often the difference in sizes. Now, when I talk about sizes, I use American Juniors. I am just not shaped for women’s sizes. So, 145lbs is an 11. 135lbs is a 9. And I’ve gotten to loose 7’s at 130lbs.

          That’s the difference. We are all different shapes and sizes, so the numbers are relative. I’m a petite, apple-shaped woman. My waist to hip ratio is small, and probably will continue to be as the weight comes off. It’s the same with my mother.

          But, my mother has almost always managed to stay in a good weight range. Though the rest of the women in my family are morbidly obese, it doesn’t mean that’s just the way it is.

          I am determined to make a change. And while I’m working on me, I’m going to work with my son too. I don’t want him to get caught in the same lifelong struggle if he doesn’t have to.

  4. I totally can relate to the satisfaction of being in control by running and counting each calorie. It’s definitely something I am working on because I can feel the stress it’s causing my mentally and physically.

    Loved your blog. I am now following so I can read more from you. Thank you!

  5. Ugh . . . weight is a touchy subject for me. I’m 5″1′ too, and I don’t even want to mention how much I weigh. It’s that disgusting. I’m disgusting to look at. 😦 I’ve tried lots of things, too. I’ve gotten into exercise routines but after I became used to them I got slightly sick, so I quit. It doesn’t help that I’ve made a habit of turning to food for comfort since I’ve been very young. 😦 It’s possible I have a thyroid problem. I’ll have to get that checked and once I find out the results, go from there.

    I don’t wear junior sizes, though. I could never fit into them. I wear women’s sizes in shirts and petite women’s sizes in pants.

    Gosh, weight is triggering for me. I should shut up now. Good luck with the routine.

    • See, that’s why I’ve been silent and sitting on this for weeks. This is a really touchy subject.

      Believe me, the first day, I thought I was going to be sick when I gor home. It passed. The discomfort for me makes me feel alive.

      Under any other circumstance, I would be in too much pain to keep going. But, after playing with the kids at work, I realized something. The more I moved, the better I felt. I was sleeping better. The hydration feels so good. I’m starting to feel healthier by the day. I see the punds shed, and I am looking better. I’m down 4lbs in a few weeks.

      I’ll keep you guys updated, but not obsessively. Maybe a check in when I meet a serious goal, like a mile in 7 minutes or something.

      • Well, there’s a lot of baggage that’s part of it that I won’t go into. For one, all of my memories of physical activity are mortifying. They do not encourage me. Another is that sometimes I get defiant about my weight and think, why do I have to cater to society’s standards about weight? Of course, that doesn’t apply to the health aspect.

        See, I was sort of describing the reverse of your experience. The first few days of exercising, I felt fantastic. Only later did I feel sick. I started feeling disoriented and dizzy. And I never feel better after exercising, just pathetic because I can barely do anything. I know it takes baby steps, but the pathetic nature of my first step would make anyone, even a couch potato, laugh.

        • You know, my husband and I were just talking about something similar last night. Gym class. The horrors will never leave us. I still cringe every time I have to go in the gym when they are playing dodgeball. Barbaric!

          I bet your metabolism changed, but your eating habits didn’t. So, your sugar was probably bottoming out constantly. I had to go from one light meal and one big meal to two light meals and a snack. I have to eat lighter, so I can regulate my sugar.

          Don’t feel pathetic. I used to when I’d attempt something physically. People always seemed stronger and more agile than me. I don’t like to look like I’m really bad at something.

          But, I had to realize that the people that were stronger and more agile had been at it for years. Some of them, their entire lives. This dawned on me when I had problems holding my 7lb infant son for extended periods of time. I can’t even hold on to 7lbs?! – thought. Pathetic!

          I struggled to pick my son up and carry him for the first year. He was a big kid, weighing in at 27lbs at the end of the first year, and not yet walking. It was at that point, I decided that I needed to get ahead of the curve.

          My son is 50lbs. I have no trouble lifting him, and I can still carry him for short distances. I guess if I were weight training, I could probably do better. But, I think 50lbs for a woman who isn’t training is decent.

          I need to have my body and my mind as fit as possible when I go to enter into my next pregnancy. The likelihood of complication in future pregnancies following the surgery is 10%, as a standard. I don’t want to add any more bad odds in there.

          • Well, I have to eat three meals a day. I can’t go without breakfast or I feel like I’m going to faint all day. Sometimes I can go without dinner, but not always. I’ve always had this thing where I start shaking and feel unable to concentrate when I’m hungry. I know that could be a symptom of hypoglycemia or diabetes, but I don’t think it is because I’ve done it ever since I was a kid, and I did have that stuff checked in high school. I could eat 3 light meals, I guess.

            Perhaps my metablism did change. I like to blame it on the big break. (I like to blame all the crappy things in my life on the big break, lol.) But really, my escalating weight began around the time of the big break. I’ve always been grossly overweight, but not as much as now. Let’s just say I’d thank my lucky stars if I were ever 140 pounds, lol. Now you know why I don’t show pictures of myself. (That, and I don’t want people in real life to be able to identify me, ha. Now I feel a little afraid that anyone who reads this comment would never want to look at my blog because it’s written by a disgustingly fat person.)

            I know that people train to be agile and stuff, but I’m way worse than everyone else still, even those who never train. I read weight loss stories from obese people, people who weighed much more than me, and their very first step. It’s more than I would be able to do. I also have really bad balance. I tried an elliptical once, and I think I would actually enjoy that, but it hurt my knees. I’m not knock-kneed, but my legs aren’t naturally straight, so when they’re forced to be, it kills my knees. Running kills my knees, too.

            When I was in graduate school, some stairs made me winded even though I took them regularly. I don’t think that’s normal. It was noticeable because occasionally I could barely catch my breath.

            Well, I don’t have any plans for pregnancy in the near future, so maybe I’m fine for now.

  6. Hi 🙂

    I got tagged this morning in the Tagging Game part ii and since I have to then tag 11 bloggers I of course had to include you.

    Apologies if you have already done this or are fed up with the game already (it seems that I am behind the times a little with all this)

    But should you wish to play along here are my answers. http://voicesofglass.com/2012/03/26/tagging-game-part-2/

    Kind Regards


  7. Yes, I need to lose a few pounds too. My weight has rocketed to 150 lbs. Never in me life. Argh! I’ve been on the other light end of the scales too though. 102 lbs. I’m 5’4”. And like my mood and the such, my height goes up and down too. It does, I kid not you . Counting the calories did help last year. Managed to come down to 136ish. But blasted, I got hit with some agitated fit, my brains would not work at all. So ate everything in sight again. There was no controlling it.

    So I finally went off on a shopping spree to buy me some clothes three-four sizes up. Everything looked so pretty. Trouble is, I come close to draining the account that was meant for something else. I am stylin now though. Oh geesh, what have I done. So I tried returning some things. Store credit, eh! Did I mention I’m Canadian? EH!

    And I gained the weight because of the drugs, got upset, and then quit. Went funny, and shopped. But at least my clothes fit again. Yes and I visited our local 2nd hand clothing shop Value Village too. But they were not packin the types of winter outerwear to which I was accustomed. You see, my lovely gore-tex ski coat I loved and my winter boots were stolen from my hospital room by some other mentally ill clepto I assume. She was a lovely girl I recall. The manager of the psych unit promised they’d replace it. So I went to the type of place where I could get the equal product, and saw so many other nice things I did not know what to do.

    It is a vicious cycle. And if my coat and boots had not gone missin, I’d of stayed at the 2nd hand store. Made me pissin mad. And if not for the drugs I might have stayed thin. But then I am post menopausal too at the ripe age of 46. I must thank Risperadal for somethin. Maybe it was the menopause that sent me in the 1st place.

    And I know this is a wee bit off topic, but speakin of sheddin things, I have an irishman stuck in mee head. It’s like St. Patty’s day all over again. I haven’t got an ounce of Irish in me. And I’m feelin a wee bit silly to boot. And no, I’ve not been into any silly juice. LOL! Is there a diet for it?

    Oh I’m off to try and finish one of my stories for my writing course. I’m drowning in it.

    Best of Irish luck to you all in the weight loss. I might just get my vacuum out and try my own version of liposuction.

    • It’s funny. One of the factors that qualified me for BP II was the absence of shopping sprees. I explained to the doctor, “Well, I have never had any money to spend.” To which he replied, “It doesn’t matter about how much money you had. Did you ever irresponsibly blow your rent on something?”

      “No.” The fear of being homeless and without utilities was enough. But, he doesn’t understand where I’m coming from. It’s kind of difficult to be loose with money when a person grew up severely impoverished.

      I have the mentality that if I don’t pay for it, no one else is going to. There was never a savings account or a rainy day fund. There was emptying our piggy banks as kids, rolling them ourselves, and spending them on scant amounts of gas and groceries.

      If I go out and spend, I could break myself.

      But, I suppose he phrased it wrong. The better question is, “Have you ever been wild with spending after all the essential bills are paid?” Ab-so-friggin-lutely.

      If I didn’t have someone to check me, I’d spend when I was sad. I’d spend when I was happy. Thank goodness my credit has always been too bad for high limits on my credit cards. I’d have all of the electronic equipment I would ever fancy, and a gorgeous wardrobe, but nothing to eat in my house.

      Speaking of Canada, I hear you guys have legalized brothels now! My husband and I have decided that we’re either going to divorce and “hook a canuck”, or maybe we’ll cross the border legally. That is, if the US will let us.

      I’m from Pittsburgh, so an extremely versatile wardrobe is a must. The weather is wacky. I actually had to go and buy real summer clothes for the first time last year. Once the heat index gets above 90-95F, I’m toast. And once the wind chill gets below 30, I’m a snowcone.

      Anyway, this is how I meant to wrap this up. I don’t have the resources to buy that kind of wardrobe in a spectrum of sizes. That’s one thing that keeps my weight in check. I can’t get above a certain size, or I’ll end up naked.

      If I get below it, I will wear these clothes until they look raggedy hanging off me. And even then, it’s not a big deal. If I get down that far, I’ll just start wearing dish towels, LOL!

  8. Oh, and I’d like to add a few more things.

    I realize this is a serious sore subject and all, but my seriousity is broken.

    So my heart does go out to all of you. I am quite disgusted with myself at times too .

    The rolls lap and slap like the waves on the shore. Some a little and some much more.

    Maybe because of this post and ensuing reply comments, I might join in.

    But then if I do lose a few, my spankin new outfits will longer fit.

    What’s a gal to do?

    • After I had my son, I noticed a sag to my belly that I never had before. Even as round as got, I never had that sag. When I looked in the long mirror in the hospital bathroom, I cried. My stomach was marked and saggy, like a deflated balloon.

      I’ve come to wear the stretch marks with pride. I’m a mother. It’s pretty commonplace. Everyone told me the sag belly would go away. They lied.

      I don’t want people to lie to me about the way I look. My mother is pretty nice about it. She’ll give me a nice little nudge. Right now, we’re both at our high weights. Except, it’s less apparent with her. She has all different sizes.

      My husband and I made a pact. We both struggle with weight. The GF before me let him balloon out to almost 300lbs. One day, he just happened to step on a scale and discover that horrifying number. 296. My husband is 5’7″ BTW.

      So, we both promised. If it starts to get so out of control that it is unappealing anymore, then we’ll say something.

      I know he hasn’t, but only because I know he knows he has no room to talk. He doesn’t want to get called out, so he won’t call me out.

      So, here I am. 4.1 miles into my day. 2.5 as the norm this morning, and another 1.6 to work. If I draw my cards wrong, it’ll be another 1.6 home. 5.7 total. And that’s a typical day!

      • So, does this mean you are walking and the such to work? I thought it was a long trek by bus and all. Anyway, good on you for pulling out all the stops. You will be stronger for it. And remember, muscle weighs more than the lipid, so don’t judge by the scales. But I know you know this, I just had to say it. You have a great goal to work towards, getting pregnant. Bonne chance! And good wishes.

        And as for motherhood, and saggin bellies, my mother never lost her tummy either. She had three of us screamin me-mins by the age of 22. I could not comment on my own belly sagging due to babies for but only in my dreams/nightmares have I ever given birth. It has been a recurring event for the past year. It has been the strangest.

        Say, are you any good at dream interpretation? I have a few ripe ones. Just kidding really! I have a sneaking suspicion what brought it back.

        My mom has made a few comments on my size and eating habits. I’ll be honest, all this chit chat about losing weight and eating more nutritiously did veer me from the stash of homemade cookies in the freezer I have a penchant for baking. I opted for the bag of fresh mini carrots, and a few sticks of celery instead. No added dressings!

        Also, in case you were wondering, Laurie and this Laurabeee are one in the same.

    • Hey, I just heard. It is proven that dark chocolate can aid in weight reduction. Let me at it. That is if the ODing on the stuff does not give you a bad case of the nerves jitters. I guess there are benzos for the that though. I shall try and prove this theory and let you know how I make out with it.

    • Exercise is so important. Most people are so turned off by it, because it’s so hard at first. But seriously, I’ve only been training about three or four days a week, and I’ve made it to about a 6 minute mile or so. On average.

      Diets are usually hell. But, this one isn’t bad. The first couple of days were hard. I had to start breaking myself of recreational eating, emotional eating, and overeating. All I really do is listen to my body, portion, spread light meals and snacks throughout the day, and add more fruits and vegetables.

      I do miss cheeseburgers and pizza though. If I can figure out a recipe for veggie pizza that isn’t a million calories, then maybe I can work it out.

      • Go ahead and let yourself have the exact pizza you want once in a while, and your body won’t even notice the calories because you’re listening to it. They’ll naturally want to come off during the next HOLY SHIT 6 MINUTE MILE…..that’s fast…the best I ever did was an 8. You go mama!

        • I’ve never timed myself. But I used to do 6 miles in just over an hour and a bit. It was usually a combination of speed walking, sprinting, and light walking. So whatever that works out to. Let me see! That would be a 10 minute average. But it has been about 10 years. Hmm, I should time……….naw!

          • I’m clocking 2.5 in 30 minutes, so it’s about 5mph. Probably more like about 4mph when you start to throw things in there like hills and traffic.

            It would stand to reason I could probably manage a five minute mile by that math. But, somehow, it still escapes me. Well, when I’m on the Wii Fit it does. The best I’ve ever done was 1.9 in 10 minutes. Today, my best was 1.79.

            And, I’m paying for it. Every second I stand here and wait for the train.

            • NAH! YA! Thanks for the correction. I’m still green at the writing thing. But I suppose if it were carrots, it would’ve been correct.

      • I have some decent gluten-free recipes and decent replacement spreads. I do a Greek pizza using a pesto base. It has been awhile. Most of the calories are in the cheese and crust and likely in the tomato sauce due to the added sugar I am thinking.

        But I am not home so I am sure there are some online.

        • Yeah, I know about the cheese. It pains me. I love the cheese. But, I do know that white cheese have less calories. So, I’m going to do some research into low fat mozzarella and see if that helps me out any.

          As for gluten free, I could care less what it’s free of, unless we’re talking saturated fat and calories. I need to lay off the bad fats, because my cholesterol is too high. I was naughty. I had Burger King last night. And today, I’m going to put on more mileage to pay for it.

          • The gluten aspect of the bread/crust could be a source of trouble. People, and a number of them have trouble with wheat gluten and don’t even know it. This can cause excessive weight gain. Once off of wheat, a number of them I understand shed their excess quite quickly.

            What blood type are you? Do you know? I don’t go terribly nuts for all the stuff out there like I once did, but I believe there is merit to it. Type O people such as myself do not fair well on wheat products.

            I know about the Burger King. That place was my first true employment for well over four years as a teen. And it plumped me up in a hurry following my commencement.

            The Greek pizza now that I think of it does not qualify as low calorie. The amount of feta cheese I use would have qualified as being equal to a small fry likely. I can make a salad high calorie with all the yum yums I put on it.

            And I’m not sure either on the calories of low fat skim mozzarella.

            So while you are researching, see what comes up for ‘blood type diet’. I know I feel better when I avoid the should not haves. Let me know what you think and what blood type you are.

            • My husband already tried to get me on that. There is a little truth in it. B positive. I should be eating a balanced diet of “good” lean meats, and fruits and veggies. Stay away from dairy.

              Yeah, yeah, I already know. Problem? My husband is A positive. They didn’t type my kid, and one of each of our parents has an O. So, my son could be anything. It would be shopping hell to deal with it like that.

  9. Omg! Stop it woman. You are as paranoid as I am. Do we get an award? I do think it’s a highly developed skill. “Naw” is JUST as correct!!! No correcting here, I promise. At first I didn’t understand the carrots relation. OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. (tiniest script possible but I refuse to pay wordpress for editing the size of my font —-> gnaw.) 🙂

    • Well, okay, perhaps not totally green. And speakin’ of asses, you could say I was just covering mine with the green comment….Still learning!

      And the paranoid thing. I don’t know truly how paranoid you Ms/Mrs./Miss ***kiss*** are but I could hazard an agreement. In part I am not with my man of nearly 24 years because I became convinced he was trying to poison me despite another part of my brain arguing to the contrary. (Long Story)

      I am all up and in for awards. Should it be all golden and statue like you think?

      And finally, I have just given myself a further lesson on gnaw, nah, and nah in the ‘life is a highway’ classroom. I am now ready to sing a song. I have discovered Urban dictionary cannot be fully trusted, however I did have a few chuckles.

      My inability to decipher these combinations there; their; they’re, and hear; here, and on goes the list is a good indication of me being on the cusp of my brain wiring getting a little confused. My driving gets dangerous too. Right signal actually means I am turning left and left = right. Luckily for the motoring public, my pdoc still has not given the okay for the ministry to give back my license.

      And speaking of license………..I really do have to get busy on building my own blog. Sorry Lulu, back to you.

      It’s been fun!

            • Yes, I think I am beginning to understand. Often I would not have thought of some of this stuff on my own. But my mind has gotten triggered by someone’s comment and I’m out of the gate like a race horse.

              I guess that is the beauty of interacting with other humans. We are not meant to go it alone.

            • That’s why they have those sayings like, “No (wo)man is an island” and “It takes a village to raise a child.” I don’t know what society is like up in your neck of the woods, but here in the US, we’re supposed to be self-sufficient individuals or else we show weakness. It’s bull. Our society has gone down the drain because we aren’t living it communally, as we were meant to do. I appreciate personal freedoms and such, and especially the right we have for government not to dictate what those are. But, I would say that I think they’ve taken it a little too far here.

            • Not being that far from the epicenter rat race of Toronto, this neck of the woods does not differ much from your experience. The Greater Toronto Area had a population of 6,054,191 in the 2011 Census.

              You know in part where things are at. Possibly even more than I. I had a reply 3/4 done on the brothel legalization comment you made when my mind completing took a stage left. I had failed to save it proper. And wouldn’t you know, my computer decided to update something and reboot without my permission in the middle of the night.

              Anyway, I’m off. Pdoc appointment soon. Maybe I stand a chance of getting my license back. The local psych unit has not has its doors darkened by my presence in almost two years. That has to say something about my stability.

          • Bah, the dimple passed me genetically and went to my son. One dimple on his right cheek, like my mother and her father. I joke about the power of that particular gene pool. My son has a fifth cousin that resembles him. My third cousin and I have the same voice. I almost mistook hers for mine! It was no surprise to me to find out that the same choral teacher that greatly favored me, favored her too.

            Cut from the same cloth, I tell them. Somehow, we’re all cut from the same cloth.

            • LOL! Or “Lawl”, the new LOL.

              I have no dimples, although if I smile real hard like the Joker, some semblance does form. Would that count?

              Speaking further on dimples, my husband’s cousins inherited dimples on both sides of their cheeks so deep you’d swear they were misplaced belly buttons.

              Yes, you are right on the cloth, eventually if you track back far enough I believe we all land with Adam and Eve as our great……grandparents. And when that fateful or other day does occur, I am going to have a wee chat with them. “What were you all thinkin’?

              At the same time, I’ll be in line to take a number to chit chat with God, “What were YOU thinking? PMS! Menopause! Et Cetera! Bah!

  10. I was thinking about weight gain recently, probably because recently I have experienced some. Now feel free to hate on me, because I have never had weight issues that could not be directly linked to a psych med. But in that context, I had weight issues. And how. Well, you know.

    For the record, BMI calculations are basically garbage, in my opinion. When I was at my very thinnest (ever in my life), I was wearing pants and dresses in size 00, my XS tops were big, my bones stuck out vividly, and I was still considered to have a healthy BMI. Not even slightly underweight. Bullshit.

    I’m glad that you’re approaching this from a positive direction. You are one hell of a determined lady, so I am certain you will make this happen for yourself despite any obstacles or issues. 😉

    • You are considerably taller than I am. I’m not saying you’re a super amazon woman, but I am quite small. I’ve noticed that taller women and shorter men particularly get shafted in terms of what is considered a “healthy BMI”.

      Now, I have a frame of reference for where my weight should be. My mother is smaller than I am. She isn’t rail thin. She does not have the frame for that. However, she is within her healthy BMI and has been for most of my life. It’s pretty accurate when it comes to smaller women, and I won’t end up being skin and bones. It will land me somewhere in the size 5 range.

      The good news, the training was going well. I was healthier and stronger than ever. The bad news? Well, was going well. It seems I have aggravated the surgical wound left over from my surgery four months ago. I didn’t think about it. It’s not as if you can see it. I’ve been feeling fine. So, I never really know what’s going on in there.

      I’m taking a week off to see if I can get it healed, and then I’ll have to start again. I doubt I’ll have to start from the beginning, but it’s going to set me back. Better safe than sorry. I don’t want to damage my parts anymore than they’ve already been damaged.

Any thoughts to contibute?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s