May 17, 2012. That's the day it was when I discovered why the scale had been moving in the wrong direction, despite my efforts. I was enjoying an evening with friends. A small, rather unhealthy sandwich and a half of a beer later, I felt nauseated. That never happened when I was drinking light. Ever. I decided that my mind was probably playing tricks on me, but I would go take a quick test just to be safe. Imagine my surprise when that thing popped up with a positive quicker than the time it took me to pee on the thing. I sat there for a couple seconds staring at it and then bolted out of our apartment to go see my friends that lived in the apartment across the way. I had to come up with some creative way to tell my husband in a flash since everyone was there. Keisha, my neighbor, gave me a onesie she had and some markers to use. Running back into my apartment, I grabbed my 2 year old and locked myself in her room. She and I decorated one of her shirts to say "Guess What Daddy!" Then I sent her out with the pregnancy test carefully wrapped up in the onesie to give to Rich. It took him a minute, but the look on his face and the surprise was absolutely hilarious! It was a great end to a disappointing scale day for us.
A couple days after the positive test, every smell bugged me. I had dark hair showing up on my belly and was sicker than a dog! I didn't experience that with my daughter at all. I had a lot of sciatic pain with her, but other than that it was a relatively easy pregnancy. Not with my son. Right from the start I was nauseated. Puking a few times a day and losing weight fast. I dropped down to 159 by the time I was 16 weeks along. It seems selfish, but I was kind of grateful that I wasn't packing the weight on like the time before. I didn't even start showing until we moved from Texas around 20 weeks. We had to stop and get Maternity clothes before we started the long drive to our new home just because my body chose that moment to start expanding.
During the move, the little bit I was able to eat was unhealthy as ever. Waffles at the hotels for breakfast, Burger King, Chinese food and a few random other fast food places we happened across. At that point I wasn't puking quite as often any more, so it all just stuck to me. I really didn't gain a lot, but I had discovered I could eat again and had a never ending appetite. By the time we got to the new place, I finally had a bit of a bump showing. Most of which I am convinced was just from the food.
A few weeks after arriving at our new home, I was set up with an amazing midwife group. Once they learned how far along I was and how long it had been since my previous appointment, they had me in immediately! I got a surprise ultrasound right there in the office, which made me more excited than ever. What pregnant woman doesn't like to have surprise ultrasounds to see their baby?! Then the scale. That dreaded thing that I hadn't stepped on in weeks because I was scared to see if I had lost more weight. I was even more scared to see if I had gained. They had me step on it. Yep. 165. I gained, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, so I breathed a sigh of relief. They ordered me to have a blood test done and to see an endocrinologist because my sugar levels were slightly higher than they should be. Not super high, but by their standards they were needing monitored. Then began my hell.
The Endo I saw was horrible. She was rude and unprofessional. However, I loved her staff. The nutritionists were amazing and they helped me a lot more than she did. The Endo pretty much told me to stop eating. She had me scared to eat anything at all. The first nutritionist in the office told me everything I should be eating and gave me charts I was to fill out and send back. However, because of the Endocrinologists wording about what she wanted from me, I didn't eat enough. I sent in my charts and sugar levels and they called me in to see them again. So, back I go to see another nutritionist. I took Rich with me because he was more level headed at the time and I was pretty emotional and scared of what they were going to say. I didn't want to hear them say that I needed to eat even less or that I needed to do something completely different than what I was. However, they really didn't. There was another nutritionist there and she actually told me I wasn't eating enough! We explained what the Endo had told me and she told me to ignore that and go enjoy a burger. I'll tell you what, we went straight from that office to pick up a burger and a shake. That was the best thing I had ever tasted in my entire life! Even if it did come back up 15 minutes later!
By the end of my pregnancy, I was having to give myself shots in my sides before bed every night. My fasting sugars, no matter what I did, were always high. Even with the insulin shots. Because of things going on currently, I actually suspect that my sugars were like that before this pregnancy. We'll get to that later though.
The day my son was born, I was 214lbs. I had gained fast in the last several weeks of my pregnancy. Because he was breech and would not turn any further than to go transverse, we agreed that I would have a second C-section instead of my VBAC. Between that news and my weight gain, I was heartbroken. I cried a lot in my last week of pregnancy. Recovery time from a c-section is not fun. I knew I would be stuck down and unable to even get my steps in because of how my body handled the previous one. However, I was up and walking within 24 hours after my 9lb 1oz little guy arrived on the scene. I didn't have to be pushed around in a wheel chair, he wasn't in the PICU or NICU like my daughter was, so there was less traveling around hospitals when I was tired. Recovery the second time was much easier! Even more fantastic was that I was informed that I don't have to have a c-section next time if we decide to have another and my weight dropped down to 180 pretty quick!
June 2, 2013. That's the day I felt well enough to do more than just walk around the house and sleep. With a pre-schooler and a newborn, I hadn't done anything. I was eating cruddy and not sticking to my plan of "doing better." So, I stepped on the scale. 192 lbs. Ok, I can deal with that. I hadn't hit the 200 mark again, so that was a huge plus in my eyes. I worked my butt off! Starting with easier workouts and then moving into HIIT training along with walking and trying to jog a bit. I got down to 160 before Halloween. It felt great! Then I started to waiver a bit with my eating and exercise. Exercising less, eating just a tad more. The holidays and my self control do not mix. By January I had gone back up to 175. I hated that. So I got a gym membership. No more excuses if I am paying for something. I can't waste that money!
From January until August, I was in the gym 5 days a week. During the snowy months, I was also shoveling snow some. Once it warmed up, I was out walking and jogging. My weight fluctuated from 160-170 the entire time. Went on vacation and came back at 172. Worked back down to 160 and went right back to fluctuating. Mentally, it was rough. My measurements stopped moving in August all together and my weight kept fluctuating quite a bit. It's like there was an imaginary line at 160 or something.
Now that we are caught up to here, I can tell you more about the current. December 2014.
In September, I got sick of the fluctuations. I kind of suspected that something could be up because I saw the biggest fluctuations after certain foods. I can seriously gain 3lbs over night and it will take me a couple weeks to work it back off. I started tracking my sugars. After meals look great! My fasting sugars, just like when I was pregnant, are consistently high though. So I made an appointment with my doctor. He ran a few blood tests and confirmed that pre-diabetes is an issue right now. I actually have my first appointment with a dietician this afternoon to discuss what to do now. However, hearing that pre-diabetes is an issue helped me a lot. After all of the studying I have done, I do know a little bit about how to handle it. While it was a hard confirmation for me (I sat down and cried for a bit and had a pity party for about a week), it was a reality check. The bad habits I used to have hurt me in several ways. However, I can still reverse this and get it under control.
Last month I was weighing in at 175 again. So, I did a week long liquid fast/cleanse to get things under control mentally. I allowed protein shakes after working out, chicken broth and those celery and onion soups that seemed so nasty when I was 240lbs and just starting. Granted, I didn't make them using water. I used chicken broth, green onions, celery and a few herbs. I have to have flavor. I can't do taste-less. That week I dropped back down to 167. The following week, I brought back salads and a few other things. Very low carb, but high protein. I gained back 2 pounds the first couple of days and then lost them again. My husband bought me a juicer for our upcoming anniversary that I have been using twice a day to get the added nutrients that I am not getting regularly. My carb levels are ranging from 30-100/day, depending on what juices and such I decide to make each day, my protein levels are up, my bloat is gone and my size 13 jeans are now too big on me.
This past weekend I crossed that imaginary line at 160. Totaling my loss at 82 pounds now, I am a whopping 158lbs and still losing! I am feeling more optimistic about my routine and my sugars are within safer zones. They are actually "normal" more often than not now. A high normal of 96-99, but it's better than the 103-124 they were every day. I found what will work for my body right now. I know another plateau is bound to happen in the future, but I am prepared now for when it does.
I'll end this here, but watch for my updates. I'll be trying to update at least once a week. I'll give different exercises I have done, a routine I made up for myself, recipes I have found and liked as well as links to some of my favorite youtube programs for those that can't afford a gym. I hope that by writing about my journey to get here rather than just starting up writing about where I am at helps someone out there. I am really hoping that I can help be the push that someone else needs to get to where they want to be. Push through the struggles. It is worth it. Not just in the physical aspects, but what getting healthy does for you mentally is absolutely fantastic!
The morning I woke up and realized that I needed to get my life and health under control, it had snowed. Ironic since the snow is pretty cold and miserable, just like I was at the time. My husband was in California going through his pre-deployment training at the time and I was staying with my brother and his family while apartment hunting. I took our daughter outside to experience her first snow and realized that just walking around outside a little bit had put me out of breath. The cold was killing my lungs! I grew up in that kind of weather and never experienced what I currently was. We didn't stay out long at all. At that point, I knew it would benefit me to get healthier. At the time, however, I had no idea how to start. So, I downloaded an app on my phone that told me what to eat and how often. It was a horrible app! I went out and happily bought the fruits and vegetables that it had on it's shopping list. It really didn't last long. The thing wanted me to prepare tasteless soups made from celery and onions. No seasonings, no anything. Just water and very low calorie vegetables. I lasted about a week starving like that before full out binging on McDonalds, Burger King and Taco Bell.
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!
Before I get into too many details of where I am now, let me give you the details of where I have been. I have NEVER been healthy. At least, not since I was a kid. When I was in the 7th grade, I began to become really self conscious about my weight. I had family and acquaintances that would make comments about what I ate and how I had fat rolls. Looking back, I really didn't. At the time, however, it went straight to my head and I stopped eating more than a bite here and there. I became obsessed with salads and my pants size. By the 8th grade, I had gone from a size 4/5 to a size 0, and those hung off of me. In high school, I was a whopping 98 pounds soaking wet. My highest, I believe, was 110 in my senior year. I'd go to school before my parents were even out of bed so I could avoid the kitchen and I would go off campus to walk during lunch hour and not re-appear until after everyone was done eating. I wore long sleeved shirts and baggier items often because they made me feel even smaller. I think subconsciously I knew I had a problem and I was trying to hide it.
After high school, I started binging and purging. My weight yo-yoed between 100 to 125. I ate, but it was rarely healthy. I preferred to enjoy it and then just be rid of it when nobody was looking. I worked two jobs, drank pretty heavily and had a thing for Taco Bell. I ran almost every night after work and kept myself busy just to keep from gaining too much at any one time.
In 2006, I joined the Navy. Left for boot camp in 2007. While there, they noticed my eating habits and had people watching me. I admitted at that point that I had a problem and they sent me to see a counselor. The counselor I saw there didn't really take me seriously. However, my RDC (recruit division commander) asked me if I wanted sent home. I got to 119 pounds by the time I was out of boot camp. While I didn't change my eating too much, I had started eating apples with a lot of peanut butter and keeping it down. Not the healthiest choice, but it got me off of the "send home" list. One of the women I was in boot with actually approached me the day after we graduated and told me I ate too much. She was another one that had an eating disorder, but she was different and didn't hide it at all. She would come straight in and go right to the bathroom to puke after every meal with everyone watching. Literally watching. I think I was the only one that didn't try to crowd around the toilet she would be at. This sounds bad, but I wondered at times if she did it more for attention than having an actual problem. Mainly because of how she handled it. She wasn't bone thin by any means, which really doesn't mean much, but she flaunted it. Like it was something to be proud of. Not that it mattered a whole lot to me as it took the attention off of me.
Shortly after I left boot camp, I ended up hurt. I tore some ligaments and messed up a tendon in my left ankle. My life slowly swirled out of control. Anything I did eat stuck to me. I couldn't get rid of it because I couldn't exercise. I was stuck on crutches, I didn't puke in front of people, if I skipped a meal it was noted and if I happened to try to do any of the above, SOMEONE would notice and say something. I tried to keep meals small and I hobbled around as best as I could. I tried to get rid of the crutches and walk or run more, but someone would always say that I needed to follow doctors orders. Either that or I would be in so much pain that I would immediately regret it. By the time I moved to the next station, I had hit 130 pounds and a depression. I was within a healthy weight range, but all I saw in the mirror was fat. In reality, I suppose that is true. I was what they call a "skinny fat." I didn't eat exactly right and I didn't exercise, so I had more fat to muscle ratio.
At the next station I went to, I met my husband. He thought I was beautiful just the way I was. Made me feel great! I finally lost the crutches and was walking and swimming a lot. For a little while, my depression disappeared. My eating didn't go back to the way it was, but it didn't suddenly become healthy either. I was eating a lot of canned soup, those prepared meals that you heat in the microwave and take out. My husband, boyfriend at the time, deployed. I went through a miscarriage that threw my emotions into a blender. Then I had a surgery to try and fix the ligaments I tore and landed myself right back on crutches. The weight quickly piled on. When he returned from deployment, I was no longer 130 pounds. I was 155 and very noticeably reaching an unhealthy weight range. Within a few months, I went up even more to 174. Then I got pregnant again.
Fast forward to 2009. I got out of the Navy and I had a beautiful little baby girl that summer. Becoming a mom was the most amazing feeling ever! However, I had PPD. I sat around and did nothing. I didn't clean a whole lot, I didn't go out for walks or runs, I didn't eat healthy and I stopped being me. I was a mess. I tried to run and get healthier a couple times, but nothing ever lasted more than a couple weeks. By the time my husband went on his second deployment and I stepped on a scale again, I was 240 pounds. That was late January, early February 2011. That was a slap in the face. I needed to change. This is where my journey to get healthy started.
