A few days after my failed attempt at "eating healthy," I had a few too many glasses of wine with my sister in law. I talked her into going out for a walk "like we did when I was younger." I hadn't really been walking in forever. I preferred to sit my fat butt down to play games on my phone or browse Facebook. As we were walking up the path to go back in the house, I stepped down just right with my bad ankle and fell. While I normally would have caught myself, the alcohol threw off my reaction time. I hit hard. The next morning I woke up unable to walk very far. I was in a lot of pain.
After about a week of pain, I called the doctor and made an appointment. While at the doctors office, I got acquainted with the scale. 240 pounds. All I could think was that it couldn't be possible. There was no way I had let myself go that much! I knew I was fat, but 240 pounds fat? That couldn't be right. Unfortunately for me, it was. The doctor walked in and poked my hip, making me jump about five feet in the air and tear up. She said she needed x-rays and to head over to the hospital across the highway. Once I returned, she told me that from my ankle injury and the way I have had to counter my weight while walking, I had hurt my hips. I now had bursitis. I knew that was the nice way of saying that I needed to lose some weight because it was hurting my body. She gave me some muscle relaxers and sent me on my way with instructions to follow up a week later.
At my follow up, I talked to her about how the muscle relaxers were not something I was going to continue taking. They actually caused me to sleep for three days straight. Then I talked to her about my weight and how I wanted to change it. She suggested I walk at least 6,000 steps each day to start and then gave me a list of "safe" foods that I could select off of various menus when I ate out. I was set up to talk to someone that specialized in nutrition. I don't know if it was my depression and my insecurities at the time, but I felt like she thought I was wasting her time. That made me feel a little more determined to get my health in order.
The nutritionist I saw wasn't much better than the doctor. She was nice, but I got that "time wasting away" vibe from her as well. She had the little chart with the plate out and told me about what I should be eating. Talked to me about cleanses and fasts when I brought them up and told me to track my calories. I was supposed to take in around 2200 calories a day. More than your average person is supposed to, but for my height, weight and what I had been taking in, it was a start to cut back what I normally would take in. I was given a chart that listed different fruits and vegetables that told me what was ok to have more often and which I should have less often. We talked about lean meats and how often those should be consumed as well as my sugar and oil intake. I left there more confused than I was when I walked in. However, I did start tracking my diet.
In the beginning, it was hard. I was meeting up with my friends and going out for walks and hikes between apartment searching. If I couldn't be outside, we'd just go to Goodwill, Walmart or one of the malls in the neighboring cities and walk around. Felt less like exercise when I was pairing it with something I enjoyed. I got in late every night, which I knew annoyed my brother, because I would drive to one of the cities and then I would have to stop for dinner on the way home. Usually Subway or the Salad bar where my best friends husband worked. The more I walked, the easier it got. However, food seemed to still be in my way. It was hard packing healthy choices with a toddler. Even harder making them when I would stop to eat. I'll admit I didn't always choose wisely.
Once I got into my own apartment, I felt a little bit more relieved. I wasn't disturbing anyone with my coming and going. I picked up some Jillian Michaels DVD's and bounced around doing her workouts. I was cooking more at home and spending time researching more about health. Still going out for my hikes and long walks with my friends, I kept myself busy. It started to become easier and easier to move around without feeling like I was dying.
I stumbled across some information one day while I was looking for some new recipes. It was a study about weight training and how your metabolism benefited from building muscle. That perked my interest quite a bit. So, being curious, I did more reading on it and forgot about my recipe search. Then a couple days later I got brave and went to sign up at the woman's fitness center I did kickboxing at as a teenager. They had a kids room, which was perfect, and I saw a trainer there that introduced me to each machine they had. She explained what each machine was used for and then took me to the weight rack and showed me several things I could do with the various tools they had. There were weighted balls, kettle bells, dumbbells, some weird ball that was cut in half and I never revisited (a BOSU ball) and yoga balls. She showed me different ways to do squats, ab exercises, how to warm up and stretch properly and a few other movements. Then she took my weight and measurements. At that point, I was down to around 210 I believe. My body fat percentage was way high and my measurements were embarrassing. She put it in a file for me to grab and log reps and new measurements in. I never touched it. Not once did I ever walk over to that file box and pull it out. I wish I had that paper so I knew what all of my measurements were now.
Between the gym, my walks and hikes, working out at home in the evenings with Jillian Michaels and how I had changed up my eating habits, I had lost 60lbs by June. I claim I started in January/February time frame, but in reality, I didn't see the doctor until shortly before my birthday in March. So, from then until June, I was down to 180lbs! I had to re-visit my doctor for my annual check up. I had someone new, but when they looked at my chart and noted the weight, they were very impressed. It helped me a lot to hear someone say that I was doing good! My friends had been telling me that already, but I just shrugged it off as them being nice. I was getting fat comments from other people I knew still, so I was still uncomfortable. However, the doctor made me feel good enough that I went out and bought new pants. I had still been wearing Maternity pants and sweat pants for the most part at that point. Last I knew, I was a size 24 in women's. I knew those didn't fit anymore because once they got too big, I gave them to Goodwill. I was extremely surprised when the majority of what I grabbed was too big! I wandered over to the juniors section and pulled a 17 off of the rack expecting to still be too big to fit. One of my best friends had come with me and celebrated with me when I walked out of the dressing room to announce that the pants fit me perfect! Less than 6 months and I was down 7 pant sizes! I couldn't believe it!
At that point I hit a plateau. The scale wasn't budging. I was more than frustrated. I did even more research and changed up my routine. Lifted heavier, walked more, added an extra bed time routine... it wasn't working. I tried adding shakes into my diet. They worked at first. Then I gained the weight back plus some the second I went off of them. So I swore off those. I tried pills. The side effects were awful! I'm not going to go into details, but a pair of my favorite jeans were forever stained orange and my friends thought it was absolutely hilarious! Don't use pills. If you do, for God's sake! DO NOT FART! It's dangerous! I tried those ridiculous It Works wraps that kept being advertised to me. Not only were they crazy expensive with everything you should have along with the wrap, they didn't work. I think I lost maybe two inches off of them, which came back fairly quick. I drank the water and followed all the directions. Not only was I out money, my hopes had been dashed of getting any smaller.
Through all the pills, shakes, wraps and crash diet tips, I managed to come through the plateau. I kept pushing and had added supplements into my routine that I had been reading up on. Taking in protein after heavy workouts, taking the proper vitamins, cutting phases that I had read up on and changing up how many fruits I had been taking in as well as when I ate them. By the time February rolled around and I went to pick my husband up to head to our new duty station, I was back down to 160 pounds! I looked great, I felt healthier and my depression was completely gone. I was back to being me!
It was a fairly long drive down to California to pick him up, but I did good with my eating. I got my daughter her happy meals while I selected salads and pulled off the breaded chicken. Once we were in California, we stayed there for about a week with friends. My husband, Rich, introduced me to Carne Asada fries and a few other tasty California goodies. It was kind of like a mini vacation, so I allowed myself to indulge. Promising myself that I would watch it closer and get back to working out steadily once we got to Texas.
After California, we took the long way to the new station. We stopped at the Grand Canyon, which I was really sick during, and drove up to visit his family and pick up our second vehicle. There were a lot of unhealthy options made on that trip. I had the "it's ok, I will do better tomorrow" mentality, which didn't happen until our household goods were dropped off by the movers. Once in Texas, the first thing I did was jump on the scale to see just how bad I had been. I had gained 12 pounds in a month. Ouch. It was ok though. I accepted it and knew what I needed to do. The apartments we had moved into came with a small fitness center and a pool. While the pool was great, the fitness center was less than amusing. The only thing in there that worked was the treadmill. The bike was useable, but you couldn't do anything with the settings on it as the face had been broken. However, I made do with what I had. I managed to do a few things at home, cook healthy meals for the family, swim often and run when I could.
Here is where I started feeling really proud of myself! When I was discharged from the Navy, it was because the surgery they did to repair my ankle did not help. I was still in pain whenever I walked for more than just a couple minutes and running was a joke. While I had tried running, I didn't get far before I was actually walking. That depressed me because running had been one of my favorite things before I left home. It was my way of unwinding after working at a Casino with screaming children and loud machines all day. When I got on the treadmill at the apartment, I was able to only last about 30 seconds at a fairly slow jog. I worked my way up from that with determination and hit 10 minutes!
I was dropping the weight back off with the added cardio and feeling excellent about myself! I made it back down to about 164 when my weight leveled out and started packing on again. Frustrated, I started looking at what I was eating closer and changing up my meals during the day. What I didn't realize was that I was holding a lot of water weight. That's just how my body works with hormone changes. After a couple of weeks, I was back up to 172 and really peeved. Then it all clicked one night when a group of our friends were over. I was sipping on my occasional drink and snacking on a not so healthy sandwich since I had pretty much given up hope at that point when I started to feel sick. I was pregnant with my son.
I'll write the rest of how I got to where I am right now soon. I feel like I have written more of a book than a blog! lol Here is a picture of where I was on our drive from California to Texas as well as one comparing where I was to where I am right now!
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