Chronicles of a Late Bloomer

Several astute friends and commenters have tried to help me through this sudden onset of slump. After rocking the scale for so many months, I seem to have derailed a little bit. Is it a coincidence that this crash occured right after I achieved several major goals?

In the past few weeks, I have lost enough weight to be able to claim, proudly, that “I’ve lost over 50 pounds” and “I weigh less than 300.” Both of these claims are more grand and more notable than I’ve ever been able to make before. Some have postulated (wisely) that perhaps I’m experiencing a post-goal let-down. You hear about brides who experience a sense of loss after their wedding day — so much energy, time, and stress has been spent getting ready for the event, and what kind of wedded bliss could possibly rise up to take its place? New mothers often suffer from post-partum depression. There are many instances that could be cited to describe the bitter-sweet and mixed emotions that sometimes accompany the achievement of a long-term and otherwise-happy goal.

And, I’m not immune to that, I don’t think. I worked hard to lose that first 50 pounds. How many hours were spent shopping, preparing meals, and increasing my exercise? Was it fun to cart my lunch to work and my empty dishes back home? And, when I had a financial crisis, I could easily have become a super-couponer and bought highly processed and additive-rich foods on the cheap, but I didn’t. I ate through my freezer full of healthier alternatives, begged and borrowed for fresh fruits and vegetables, and subsisted on free (but high quality) meals at functions, parties, and generous friends’ homes.

I weathered a sad and painful (though, thankfully, not ugly or hurtful) breakup and I did it without resorting to ice cream, for the most part. I re-joined Weight Watchers and shopped around for a leader whose wisdom and word-o-philia are helping me to change some of my mindsets. I’ve suffered for months with pants and shirts which are sizes and sizes too large.

No, losing the first 50 pounds has certainly not been easy.

But, therein lies the rub. Can you spot the word that’s causing me the most grief? I think I can — it’s “first.” I think the mini-depression I’m experiencing is distantly related to goal-letdown. I think it’s sort of like a second cousin to goal-letdown. Maybe we call it goal-fatigue.

Losing 50 pounds has been a dramatic experience for me. It’s been wonderful and exhilarating and totally rock-and-roll. However, in order to achieve my ultimate and long-term goal of BMI normalcy, I’ll have to lose 50 pounds approximately three and a half times. In spite of my achievements, I really am just getting started on this journey. The after-photos on weight loss commercials proudly proclaim “I’ve lost 50 pounds!” because they are finished. 50 pounds, for most people, would be enough. For me, it’s the first in a series of stepping stones that, for one reason or another, feel sort of insignificant right now.

Sure, people who’ve known me for longer than a year are beginning to notice a change in my physical appearance. Coworkers and clients have remarked on my baggy pants and slimmed-down sillhouette. However, new acquaintances, business colleagues, and even potential dates still experience me as very, very fat. They don’t know just how hard I have worked. They don’t know how much smaller I am today than I used to be. When I meet new people in these situations, it’s all I can do to restrain myself from saying, “I’m Mal, and I used to be a lot fatter. I’m working on it, I swear!” I still can’t change my body distinction on my match.com profile, or bump into the next tier of perceived attractiveness for potential dates.

I’m having to adjust my expectations of what it means, for me personally, to have lost 50 pounds. In reality, none of my bulging lumps, bumps, or rolls have gone away. They have become smaller versions of themselves, yes, but they retain their same basic shapes and forms. Close friends who have lived with me through this journey so far have taken to addressing me affectionately. “Hey, Skinny,” they’ll say into my answering machine, or with a clap on the back. “Skinni-ER,” I correct them. I’m not anywhere near thin yet. Just thinn-ER. They remark that my hips are narrow-ER, that my arms are slimm-ER, and that my stomach is flatt-ER. Not narrow, slim, or flat. Just -ER. I have -ER overload.

And, I guess that’s the let-down that I’m experiencing now. 50 pounds seems like such a gargantuan amount to have lost, but it’s just the tip of the iceburg for me. Looking forward feels a bit overwhelming, and major financial and health concerns have only added to that strain.

How can I possibly maintain the focus and energy required to lose 170 pounds, when losing 50 pounds took so much? I feel a little tired, I guess, and I don’t know what to do now. Will I always be an -ER? Is it best to accept that being skinni-ER is achievement enough? How do you combat -ER fatigue?

One positive note from all of this medical drama and the endless lab tests of the past two weeks. As reference, the “normal” range for cholesterol is 125-200, and the preferred range for triglycerides is less than 150.

October, 2006:
My Cholesterol: 211
My Triglycerides: 239

April, 2007:
My Cholesterol: 205
My Triglycerides: 519

Last week, September, 2008:
My Cholesterol: 166
My Triglycerides: 148

Unbelievable. My doctor didn’t even raise an eyebrow at these numbers. Since learning that I fall so squarely into the “normal” range on this one measurement, I feel like that guy in the Cheerios commercial telling every random stranger about his lowered cholesterol.

What can I say? I think it’s awesome.

Celebrating: Living in an era of modern medicine where simple lab work, blood draws, and tests can begin to yield answers when you’re not well.

Grateful for: Let’s not anyone be shocked that my weight is up this week. In addition to everything else going on, I got my period this morning. So, today I’m grateful for perspective. After all, aren’t I the one always preaching about the power of perception? Three weeks ago, I would have been squealing with delight at these numbers. And that’s what I’m grateful for. Knowing that I have the power to put a positive spin on this. Knowing not to let a negative perspective smash my forward momentum. And, so, I am grateful to have a body, to be making peace with it, and to have a good doctor and amazing health insurance.

Starting weight: 354.6 pounds
Last week: 296.8
This week: 301.2
Change this week: +4.4
Total change: -53.4
Next milestone: 60 pounds gone (since I already reached 55 pounds gone)

This week’s mantra: Trust the doctors to figure things out, trust the universe to give you strength, trust your body to respond as you GET BACK TO BASICS.

I’m ready to admit just how low my morale has gotten this week.

Start with my ongoing medical problems (more on that after two ultrasounds and a doctor follow-up visit tomorrow), the fact that I probably have PMS, and large-scale fallout from the financial crisis of a few of weeks ago. I feel wiped out.

And, perhaps that same PMS is contributing a pound or two of bloat, but this morning I weighed in dangerously close to that 300-pound mark that I was so proud of crossing.

I won’t cross it again if I can help it, but I’m still doing some soul-searching about the moment on Saturday morning when, standing in our local 99-cent store, I decided that purchasing two packages of wafer cookies was the thing to do. “They’re not chocolate,” I rationalized, successfully avoiding a cocoa-triggered migraine but not the sugar and trans fat debacle that followed. “They’re in individually-wrapped packages,” I declared to myself, mistakenly believing that it would “slow me down.” And, “They’re so cheap,” felt important when I thought about all of the rice and bean meals I’ve had in the past 3 weeks. When I started to come to my senses, two days later, I did not toss the offending cookies, reasoning, “but it’s been so long since I had any treats, and I feel so very badly…”

The combination of money woes, health anxiety, and pain episodes crashed on Monday morning when I took a tumble in the subway parking lot before work. Beyond the scrapes and bruises, I seem to have heartily injured my lower back and, two nights ago, could not even walk from the stove to the refrigerator in making dinner.

All of this sounds like bitching and complaining, but the fact is that I have been dancing on tight ropes for the past two months and something had to give. I’m only sorry that it was my food resolve, to the tune of splitting an extra large pizza (with double cheese), wolfing down crappy 99-cent store cookies, and consuming very few vegetables to speak of this week. With the pain and injuries, I have not exercised (or even been able to take the stairs at work) and now I feel exhausted. And undernourished. And stuck. And anxious that every single funny little twinge in my torso is going to lead to a pain episode that will land me in the hospital again.

So. Allow me to hereby plant my flag, press my fists indignantly against my hips, and declare, “This is as low as I go.” My project for the next week and a half is to rebuild my morale and keep my darn chin up.

(But not so far up that I trip and fall in public, again.)

Celebrating: Crossing into the 200’s! Defeating the troll under the 300-pound bridge! Achieving my end-of-the-year goal! Call it what you will, I’m under 300 pounds!

Grateful for: I had really wanted to take a picture of my purple toesies framing the 299.8 point. However, I must have hit that point somewhere around Wednesday night after spending all afternoon and evening in the emergency room. Wednesday, I had another pain crisis which resulted in a 7-pound drop only 30 hours later. My doctors seem to think I have stomach acid problems, which leads to such debilitating abdominal pain that I am rendered immobile, speechless, breathless, and lying in a pool of my own sweat on the carpeted floor of my office. I just don’t understand how severe indigestion could be making me lose this weight. I’m sticking with my ovarian cyst theory until proven otherwise. (Note: I don’t “bounce back” from these dramatic weight losses, as though they were pure water weight or some other scale game. No, I lose the outrageous amount of weight in the 2 days following the pain crisis and it never comes back. All I can figure is that a combination of eating right, exercising, and battling the huge, fluid-filled aliens living deep in my torso has spurred me to these current numbers.)

Starting weight: 354.6 pounds
Last week: 300.4
This week: 296.8
Change this week: -3.6
Total change: -57.8
Next milestone: 60 pounds gone

This week’s mantra: Be grateful. Be grateful. Be grateful.

Celebrating: Crossing over from BMI’s “Severly Obese” into just “Obese.” Yay!

Grateful for: I wrote earlier about an increase in [otherwise healthy] carbs and my trepidation over weight fluctuations this week. Well, the mystery seems to have been solved when I experienced another ovarian cyst rupture yesterday at work. Thankfully, this one was only about half as severe and debilitating as the one linked above, and that is what I’m grateful for this week — that I was able to ride it out with my office door locked, get home safely, and rest. (And, heck. Maybe once my body re-absorbs the rest of the cyst fluid, I will have crossed into the two-hundreds!)

Starting weight: 354.6 pounds
Last week: 301.6
This week: 300.4
Change this week: -0.8
Total change: -54.2
Next milestone: 55 pounds gone

This week’s mantra: I’m too close to ease up! TIME TO CROSS 300!

With a recent personal budget crisis and no choice but to become very frugal, I must report that I am now in week 3 of not eating out nor purchasing groceries. I have no doubt that this contributed to my 5+ pound loss in the last week.

Fortunately, I had a few things stockpiled (many of which I had forgotten about) which have seen me through these lean times, including dried beans, frozen veggies, and a $5 grocery store gift card. I’m grateful for the resourcefulness, creativity, and determination which were passed down to me from my farmer grandparents. It’s very tricky, after all, to be broke and try to still eat healthily. They did it by composting and growing their own food. I live in the concrete jungle and am relegated to scraping the bottom of the barrel.

For instance, last weekend as I stared at my cupboards I wondered how I would stretch 2 eggs for an entire week’s worth of breakfasts. I didn’t have milk, fresh fruit, yogurt, or any of my other stand-bys. What I DID have were some quick oats (purchased for a baked gift — I don’t eat quick oats but rather steel-cut) whole wheat flour, and frozen berries. Voila! 2 eggs turns into a week’s worth of whole-grain muffins. Later that evening, I also made homemade crackers (a feat I have accomplished before) to eat with canned tuna and carrots for my week’s lunches.

This represents a dramatic increase in grain-based carbohydrates, which may result in some waffling on the scale this week, though I am quick to note that they are all whole grains. (Heh. I said “waffling.”) However, that might not be this week’s biggest culprit.

No, the true danger for me — Broke Betty — this week is any mention of FREE FOOD. Whether it be a friend’s invitation for Sunday dinner or a coworker’s candy jar (mercifully filled with goodies other than migraine-inducing chocolate), the thing I’m learning about free food is that it doesn’t tend to be very good for me. Also, I tend to overindulge right now because I am panicked about my personal finances and free food is, well, free.

All of this is to say that at my mid-week check-up weigh-in this morning, the scale was up a bit from what it was over the weekend. I’ve still lost more than 50 pounds, but I will be grateful for payday on Friday, an infusion of fresh fruits and vegetables, and a baby step towards peace of mind.

Celebrating: 50 POUNDS GONE!!!

Grateful for: I’m sorry — maybe you didn’t hear me. I’VE LOST OVER 50 POUNDS! (Okay, also I’m grateful to have broken past 40 BMI points.)

Starting weight: 354.6 pounds
Last week: 306.8
This week: 301.6
Change this week: -5.2
Total change: -53.0
Next milestone: 55 pounds gone

This week’s mantra: Hold on tight and enjoy the ride.

How much of my current success with weight-loss efforts is linked to my current financial difficulties? I simply don’t have the funds to eat the way I used to. I am forced to regulate my money and this has assisted me in regulating my food spending and consumption as well.

I want to be clear about something: I was able to really get a handle on my Binge Eating Disorder long before I went broke, but still. It’s pretty hard to get excited about bingeing on beans and rice, or frozen brussel sprouts. The money just isn’t there for eating fancy French desserts and tripling up on supersized meals the way I did in the past.

And, will the lessons that I’ve learned about regulating my eating be able to step in and help me out with my financial life? (Thankfully, I know the principles did overlap for Sally.)

If nothing else, I can attest to this truth: small changes make a big difference. Look at my 1-pound-per-week loss. It’s all added up to something that’s pretty measurable. Hopefully the same will be said of paying off debt, clipping coupons, and trying to get my financial priorities in order. If I ever believed it before, I know it now: the same skill set that can change one part of your life can be applied to other parts and turn you into a great big darn superstar.

It just takes time, patience, and belief.

In my efforts to break past the 300-pound mark without totally freaking out, it occurs to me that I might need to adjust my big-picture goals a bit.

Originally, my goal for evading weight-loss surgery was to weigh under 300 pounds by the end of 2008. There it is again — the big three-oh-oh. With so much riding on those three digits, it’s understandable that my mind and body connection could fabricate a metaphysical traffic jam and, once again, prevent me from crossing into a new century.

Well, yes. My goal was to get there by the end of 2008 but guess what? If my graphs and charts and trend-lines have anything to say about it, I’ll cross that mark by the end of September. For the first time in my life, I am a person who sets and achieves goals. And, the thought of achieving a goal and not knowing where else to go makes me feel very, very uncomfortable.

All of this is to say that to (1) depower the 300-mark and (2) continue sanely along this journey, I am revising my end-of-year goal:

By the end of 2008, I want to weigh 289 pounds or less.

This means that I will have (a) lost approximately 70 pounds and (b) have only 100 pounds left to lose until I cross into my “normal” BMI range.

100 pounds left has a nice ring to it. I think 289 also gives me some leeway in case I need some latitude during the holidays (though, I don’t anticipate needing more than 2 or 3 “free” days and now that I know that chocolate causes my migraines, well… let’s just say it will be a very different holiday season all around). 11 more pounds in 3 months. 4 pounds a month. About 1 pound a week. That’s the course I’ve already been on, and I want to see if I can do it all the way through to the end of the year.

PLUS! Consider this: I am currently a candidate for weight-loss surgery to be paid in full by my insurance because I have over 100 pounds to lose. If I reach 289, I will no longer qualify for that alternative. It will be off the table and I will have nothing to do but acheive my goals the old-fashioned way.