So yesterday I took a day off from writing and exercise, after a small series of unfortunate events (like being at the wrong address) we finally signed the papers and are homeowners. I felt such a huge sigh of relief overtake me and all the stress just subsided. So now and probably for the next year, my main focus will be paying off all the bills and continuing to work out and get in shape. 

I'm excited and feel like after all these years, the old man and I are on a good path forward financially. I didn't go off plan food wise, I did great, maybe a little too much salt. I'm noticing as I get older that a meal with high sodium really affects my water retention, so I have to keep an eye on that. 

I don't think I'm going to make my first five pound goal tomorrow, I was hoping to but I just think so with the TOM lingering on, I just don't think it's gonna happen. I do need to get a measuring tape so on weeks when the scale isn't moving, maybe the measurements are better so I can see progress on a different level. 

Till tomorrow. :)

Stepping outside this morning, with the puppies in tow, I was relieved to have a cool breeze engulf my skin. It has been an usually hot summer here with 101 days reaching over the 90 degree mark and so I was delighted to feel fall finally arriving. Being a transplanted Yankee, I find the summers here beautiful, enjoyable, and hard on my body. When you over 40 and massively overweight, the heat and humidity of the southern summer season can feel as it is pushing you one foot closer to the grave.
For three months, one of the hardest things I do is walk up the 15 stairs to get in our front door, I'm exhausted by the time I get to the top.

But Fall is the time of change, the time when nature slows down to prepare itself for a long well deserved rest. This year it is a time for me to change also. A time to breathe in the autumn air while walking, a time to begin working in the backyard getting it ready to transform so next spring I can do yoga out on the back porch, a time to soak in all the beauty life has to offer and see the beauty in myself as well.

Tomorrow we close on the house, after 25 years of marriage we are the one things we've never been before...homeowners. It brings me a sense of calm well being. To have a space that belongs to us and that we can transform into anything we want to is amazing. It reflects how I see myself at this moment....as a blank canvas that I can turn into anything I want to as long as I'm committed to the hard work it requires.

After work I have to stop and get some salad for dinner, I'm going to pop into Hobby Lobby and grab a measuring tape and get my hips and waist measurements. Will post those tomorrow....Till then

They say dreams are an extension of our subconscious mind, I'm not exactly sure how true that is. I do believe, if we ponder on our dreams, both good and bad, there is much self examination to be had if we choose to divulge into our own thoughts. Last night, I had a dream I'm sure most married people have had at one time or another, the one where they see their spouse cheating. It's a thought I'd had many times over my marriage, varying from one degree to another. When I was younger and the kids were small, it was a terrifying fear, but as I've gotten older, I've realized you truly have no control over what another person does. You make not like it but that's a reality.

What I found most interesting this morning  was that as I glanced over at my husband as he soundly lay sleeping, I wasn't upset about the sex. In fact in my dream and afterward, that aspect of absorbing the affair left me unfazed, what bothered me is what has always bothered me about the concept....it's the betrayal. I have been married for a long time, eternity actually in comparison to most marriages today and my husband has never been an easy man. He's always been a good man but never an easy one. He's demanding, esoteric, and can be quick with the cruel side of his tongue. He talks more than he listens, is quick to judge, and can berate unrelentlessly when he feels his motives are misconstrued. I love and accept him for who he is but at times his personality can make it extremely difficult to connect deeper parts of myself to him because it feels more like combat than communication. I, for my part, am no saint but for the purpose of this writing, I will leave that for another day.

Accepting people for who they are and all the paradoxes and difficulties in between makes the circumstance of a betrayal all the much more damaging and if it were to happen in my case, irreversible. Besides my dad and my sons, my spouse is the only other man in my life I've ever trusted and believed in. Embracing fear is a vital step in achieving success when transforming your body. You don't know what it's like on the other side. Everyone that's accomplished their weight loss goals says it changes you but until you walk the path, you don't know what will happen to you, how it will change you. I do have fear on what would happen, how this will change me, change my relationship with my spouse. I am afraid of what is coming but I'm more afraid on missing the next 20 years because my body just got tired of being fat and quit. I have to accept the responsibility of being the master of my own existence. I have to walk into the darkness.

I've only watched 10 minutes of the TV show The Biggest Loser and even that was too long of my life quite frankly. They show a bit of a back story on this woman before she gets on the scale where she is talking about her weight, commenting on how she is learning to eat better, mixed in the flashes of her exercising like she's some sort of crazed athletic maniac. Her whole team is surrounding her, waiting with baited breath to find out just how great is loss will be, the pressure builds...did she loose 3...maybe 5 pounds this week? She steps atop the scale and then the number displays....she's gained 2.2 pounds......Gasps can be heard by all, you can see in her eyes the sheer devastation.....and here's me screaming at the television, "OMG are you freaking serious....maybe it's her time of the month, did anyone think of that or take that into account? You know the whole being a woman thing?" The answer is no, they never do.

We are taught on our weight loss journey that losing weight is what matters, seeing that smaller and smaller number on the scale reinforces the progress we are (or should be) making and when we don't achieve a loss of number....we are failures. We haven't exercised enough or eaten correctly that week and so now we are just a group of big, stupid, pathetic losers.

I think that success should be measured a multitude of ways and just because you are stagnant in one area for a while, that doesn't mean you are failing. The scale doesn't tell the whole story, it never has, regardless of whether the number is moving up or down. And as women, we have extra struggles in regards to just how our body functions. The key is accepting this, embracing it, and continuing to move forward without letting the number derail your progress.

The defeatist mindset becomes engrained into a fat person's way of thinking and self-definition, especially in the United States. Fat people are not viewed on a whole as successful, smart, or attractive. Funny and jolly are the only stereotypes that are accepted and embraced throughout society, heaven help you if you don't fit in that box. So when you gain weight through natural means, it negates nothing, you still struggle with feelings of failure which leave your spirit battered and beaten.

So these moments in the journey are ones we have to fight through, claw through, bleed through. These are the moments that hurt, that leave scars, that cause pain. These moments try to break us, crush us, cheat us out of the success we've already achieved. These are the moments that make us human and eventually will make us heroes.

Today has already been a bit of a struggle with my eating....BUT I accept that today is challenging and embrace that difficulty. Stupid period is due on Tuesday so for a few days before I'll feel like I'm starving all the time. This is one of the worst times where in the past I would shovel giant spoonfuls of peanut butter in my face and I haven't had any cravings for that at all. In fact, I have two jars of natural PB that I haven't even touched, they are just sitting up in the cabinet. 

Since my morning was a bit rough, I will put in extra exercise today. Accountability isn't easy but it's necessary to change my pattern of thinking. 

So today I commit to do:

30 mins upper body cardio/weights - COMPLETE
10 min arm weight blitz - COMPLETE
30 mins WFC abs - COMPLETE
20 mins boxing - COMPLETE
30 min yoga -COMPLETE

I will update by midnight on the status of all objectives.

UPDATE: I did it. I'm exhausted but I did it. So that extra piece of pizza wasn't worth it. I will think twice next time. 

Took weight this morning and very happy 314.8, this is on top of me not getting a good nights rest, eating dinner pretty late, and my tom is due in three days, so I was very relieved to see that number on the scale this morning. 

Will spend the weekend getting the house back to flawless shape, getting in a wee bit of painting, and getting ahead on my weekly exercise. Today I'm feeling very good, my mind is in a very positive state and I'm noticing little changes in my body where I'm not struggling as much with movement. 

Today is a good day.

We got the approval for the house yesterday and as long as everything goes well, we close next Thursday. I'm so excited just be able to breathe and relax and have this phase of our life evolve. I feel a sense of quiet well-being.

I have two items of "goal" clothing. While technically they both fit now, they aren't as comfortable and free wheeling as I would like. First is what I refer to as my Morticia Adams Dracula shirt, my goal is to wear it on Halloween. My second is a shirt I call my turkey fan. I'm looking to wear that the day before Thanksgiving.

I'm debating joining the Y this month, there is no joining fee but I'm not sure financially if we can yet. I'd love to get back in the water, I just don't know if I'm ready.

Weigh day is tomorrow. Looking for maybe two rounds of yoga tonight and then a wonderful sleep in Saturday morning. Need to get a new extended measuring tape today so I can take measurements and I also have a health list I need to fill:

1. New heart monitor
2. yoga strap
3 boxing gloves that fit
4.swim suit
5. swim goggles
6. Jinx Monsoon beach towel

Will get prices over the weekend and see what I can do.
First goal is 10 pounds down....already have a non-food reward for myself picked out.

Till the morning

So last night I decide to get in a full, well rounded evening of exercise. I start with Wii Gold's Gym Cardio Dance. I love the Wii for exercise, I have several games that I find fun yet challenging. My console is starting to have issues with freezing, not booting up, or not recognizing the remotes. but so far I've been able to keep it going. It makes me sad they don't make them anymore. Nintendo should have promoted it as an affordable option to a home gym, especially for the morbidly obese. It gets you moving and though I realize for the physically fit or gym rats, it's not enough; for truly fat people it can be a life-saver. It gets you off the sofa and it's done in the privacy of your own home.

When you are morbidly obese, you already are struggling with intense self perception issues. I realize there are some people who say they truly love being super fat, it doesn't bother them, they can do what other people do and maybe for them, that's a true statement. For me however, that would be a complete and utter line of bullshit. How does struggling to move make you feel great about yourself? You can't fit in booths at restaurants, using a normal size bathroom stall is a struggle, and of course there is always the stairs.....
When it's difficult to do normal everyday things, it's not easy to just suck up your embarrassment and head down and join the local gym. I'm not saying it's not necessary, I'm saying it's not easy. It's extremely intimidating to only do half a mile on the treadmill while being surrounded by people pumping out a ten mile run like it's nothing.

I have to admit that if I felt good about myself and who I am, I wouldn't be here in the first place. I realize everyone has issues, some people are addicted to drugs, some to gambling, some to sex and money, and some to food. My issue with food is deeply rooted in feelings of guilt, shame, anger, survival, and security. What a cluster fuck that is, but I'm grateful that I'm to the point where I can finally be bold enough to write it down and look at the words in all their obscene glory.

As I get to about the 22 minute mark in my 30 minute Cardio Dance work out, I start to ache a bit. My ankles and my knees weren't liking this anymore, it was cute the first half of the workout but now parts of my body were definitely not happy. So I just slowed down a little bit and probably lost some of my form, but I kept moving and I made it through. I did the cool down on the floor but at that point, that was a small detail and I wasn't going to beat myself up over that. I then found a floor exercise weight routine for the arms and chest from some SUPER Australian lady on youtube (thank heaven for people that put exercise routines on the internet for FREE, I think that should make you one step closer to sainthood). I finished with Candlelight Yoga by Sara Ivanhoe.

I crawled off the floor but I made it. I was exhausted but I made it. I find after 12 days of eating right and exercising, I'm sleeping better, my mood is happier, my muscles aren't aching as bad, and some of my skirts feel a wee bit looser. I wonder why I have so much trouble hanging on to and embracing this feeling of well-being. Am I waiting for it to be an illusion? Do I feel I just don't deserve the fluidity of movement? What does being anchored gain me, what does it give me? I need to figure that out so I can cut the cord.

When I close my eyes, I envision my new life and it is beautiful. NOT perfect, but beautiful.
We own the house we live in...instead of just renting it. The backyard finally has a fence and I'm able to play with my puppies and watch them run around like crazy while I do yoga on the back porch. I see the walls painted the colors I've chosen, the new windows open while the fall breeze flows through the house. As the fall changes into winter, I decorate the house inside and out for Christmas. It is breathtaking.

One by one, all the pieces of clothes sitting in my closet waiting for me to fit into again come off the hangers and onto my body. The UTC basketball jersey my daughter got me two years ago, the gypsy dress I wore when my brother in law got married, the blue fluffy fleece Eeyore hoodie, my various size jeans, my jean skort, and finally the white flowered blue Little House on the Prairie dress I got married in.

Each decision that I make, both negative and positive, both intentional and unconsciously determine my ability to transform the dream into reality. To be cognizant of one's choices, quite frankly is taxing. You just can't throw caution to the wind and see what may, those days are over because when left to your own devices, you choose poorly.

ARGH.....

But what you get at the end of the journey, after mastering the struggles, after embracing the demons....is peace. I will always have to stay on target when it comes to my weight, I will always have to make exercise a priority in my life. But to have freedom of movement, to walk up the stairs, to walk down the stairs, to not feel weighed down to the universe. To cross my legs, to do the yoga pose thread the needle or tree without falling over. To stretch and be mobile and agile.

This is what health is, not a specific size or weight. Just to present in your body and enjoy the movement. I close my eyes again and I see the future...and it is......mine.

If I were to think about all the binge eating I've done over the years, the food probably equates to eating everything served on the average American's Thanksgiving Day table x 200. I can't even calculate the calorie count but still, I did it because it brought me things I felt I couldn't get anywhere else. I remember as a kid, getting up in the middle of the night and sneaking breaded veal patties out of the freezer and cooking them in the microwave at 2 o'clock in the morning. I would smoother them in cheese and mayo and slap them between two pieces of bread. It was hot and delicious and tasted amazing, even now the memory is making me smile. And why? because it was something I was forbidden to do. It was my screw off to the world.

See, I love my mother very much but we are extremely different people. Growing up, my mother had a vain streak in her a mile wide, though even to this day, I doubt she'd ever admit it. She was always dressed to the nine's, every hair in place, makeup done perfectly, and on Sunday for church, out came the high heels and the fur coat. She was the epitome of style and virtue. Even when I was young, I thought it was pretentious, we were a blue collar family. 

She would monitor what we ate, my brother and I. If she made cookies for dessert...three was the limit. No more, we could never have any more than three so as I got older, I made sure I always found the biggest three in the batch. I think it pissed her off, which brought me silent joy. I remember as a kid, my grandfather (her father) telling me I should loose weight, I was fucking SEVEN. My mom never defended me, she told him she was "working on it". I remember thinking I must be a worthless piece of crap. That feeling stayed with me for quite a long time.


I didn't figure out till I was in sixth grade, that I had been molested. We spent some time every summer with the best friends of my parents. I loved them very much, I called them Aunt and Uncle. They had six children, two girls and four boys. The second oldest boy was 9 years my senior, meaning when I was five, he was 14. He was my first case of "puppy love" and everyone thought it was so cute. It ended up being a relationship that would warp my perception of myself and men for decades to follow. I remember him on top of me in the barn, in his room, in the camper. I remember wanting to stop and then him telling me it was ok, he did this with Kim. I idolized Kim who was a neighbor of theirs', I wanted to grow up and be just like her so this can't be wrong because Kim did it.
Every summer for 5 years, this was my life. And then, one day, his brother caught him having sex with me in the cubbyhole under my brother's desk. I was 10, he was 19. I just remember the two of them having words, a lot of whispered anger. I remember his brother telling me not to worry, he'd make sure that never happened again, and it never did.
The damage however was already done.

Late fall of that same year they called all the girls into the gym at my school to have the "talk" about periods, how they worked, why they happened, why they didn't happen. I had not had my period up until this point, I remember walking home convinced I was pregnant. I was terrified about not only what it would mean to me, but about what it would mean for him. I got home and spent the next 2 hours in the neighbors back yard slamming my stomach against a fence railing where we had removed the chain link so we could pretend to be gymnasts on the bottom of the uneven bars. I didn't want to be pregnant so I knew if I got my period I wasn't so I just kept beating my body against the metal again and again and again.


My mother spent years thinking he was a great Christian boy, attractive, athletic, fun.
I think eating was a way of silently giving her the middle finger, as if to say, "oh I'm sorry and I letting you down by not being thin and beautiful" She couldn't pretend I was something she wanted me to be because you can't hide fat. By being fat, she had to acknowledge there was a problem. Eating was the only thing I had control over to upset the apple cart. and scream out for help.
When I look back at pictures now, I see that after the first summer being with him, my weight jumped over the next school year quite a bit. Each summer with him added more weight, maybe I was hoping he find me as disappointing as mom did with each pound I gained and find me unattractive and stop.

The summer between my seventh and eighth grade year, we didn't go to Indiana and they didn't come to Illinois. That was the first time I felt free, I spent the hot months of the season working out and got in the best shape of my life. I felt amazing. I've been looking to regain that sense of wellness I had that summer for the past 30 years.

This was a great weekend. Friday after work, I had the husband pick up some Firehouse Subs for dinner after hopping online to do some quick research. I picked from the under 500 calorie sandwich section and went with a turkey and cranberry. It was pretty good and I enjoyed the fact I could investigate the food before I ordered. I really don't eat out all that much. One, it's expensive. Two, I have no control over what is happening with the food and for me, that is quite important since I have had allergic reactions in the past. And three, it tends to tear up my stomach if I eat out more than two times in a row.

But if you are willing to do a little research in the upfront, you'll find, especially in the age of the internet, nutrition information is easily accessible for many eateries. It is interesting that most people will do incessant research concerning the purchase of a car or television or phone BUT aren't one bit interested into discovering what composes the items they devour and run through their system. Are we so conditioned to mindless acceptance when it comes to industrialized food that we blindly trust that whatever is out there really won't add to our waistline or deteriorate our health?

How is it we have become so complacent? I remember when I was younger, fresh fruits and vegetables were relatively inexpensive, junk food was pricey. You could get an apple for a quarter but twinkies were fifty cents but now that has flipped gears. With the exception of bananas, fruit is quite expensive in the budget of average Americans. I only can buy cherries once a year because I can't afford 6.99 a pound weekly during the cherry season but I read constantly how beneficial they are to the body. Why the HELL is this a reality? And see, this is where my mind begins to wander off and believe in the possibility of a giant conspiracy, I'm just saying.

Not too long ago, relatively speaking, being fat or obese was seen as a status symbol. There was even a "Fat Man's Club" which catered only to the portly man who could afford such luxuries as abundant food. To be obese was to be rich and powerful because almost everyone else was thin, poor, and weak. Being fat made you part of an elite group, in fact, skinny men tried to stuff their shirts and trousers to be seen as someone who had achieved success. Mind you, how do you fake a double chin? I imagine all these desperate men walking about with fat bellies and skinny faces wondering why no one was buying it.

So you flash forward to modern times and it's exactly the opposite. Most Americans can not afford organic fruits and vegetables and if you happen to be someone with kids who is on food stamps, holy shit, you're nutritionally fucked. Between being pressed for time or money, the average blue collar family struggles to get meals high in fiber and vitamins and low in salt and sugar. The next time you go to the grocery store allow yourself some extra time and wander through the frozen "family" entrée section paying particular attention to Stouffers. Turn over a box of Salisbury Steak or Grandma's Chicken and Vegetable Rice  and discover the sodium level. Once you do, we'll talk. Ridiculous is all I have to say. Do you think Paul Bulcke, the CEO of Nestle (which owns Stouffers) fed that to his own kids as they grew up? I doubt it.
So we eat crappy food, feed our kids crappy food and then wonder why everyone in the family is on three to four medications.

What a mess, and as obese people, let's get real, we've contributed to this vortex of crap. I shovel food in my face because I'm looking for a quick fix to feel better, I'm looking for an easy answer to cover up the emotional or mental issue I am having instead of dealing with it and working it through. I've helped to create the overall gluten that is hurting the most vulnerable amongst us. A few years ago, California did a study estimating that between restaurants, farms, and grocery stores almost six billion ton of food gets thrown away each year...just in California. Many businesses are so afraid of getting sued over food, they throw it in the trash bin instead of donating it. WTF? This is insane.

So starting this week, I will use $10 of my grocery budget to purchase healthy items for our local food pantry. I know it's not a lot but it's a step in the right direction in changing my relationship with food. I have to work to have food not own me, I need to own it and dictate where I want it to go and what I want it to do. I am not its servant, I am its boss!!!

Today I've decided to do something I have NEVER done before. I posting pictures of myself at the current weight of 315.8. I took them today while shopping for clothes at Catherines. I'm planning on returning there on November 6th to shop for another outfit. I will take 2 more pictures then. 

what do I think of when I see these photos? Blobby Jelly. I think why is my husband still with me. I think how can my poor body move, it has so much to carry on only a 5 foot 2 frame. I think how did I let myself get this bad and neglect my health so much. 
I think how fun it will be to see myself get smaller and healthier. I think how much more limber and vibrant I'll be. I think how I need to bring color in my wardrobe. I think I can do this, I think it will be awesome to see myself evolve. 

Only have a bit to post today, I usually write while I'm at work, in between customers.
Took a weight this morning and I'm down to 315.8. I'm happy with that, not extreme which is good. I need to work on seeing any loss at great, staying the course as positive, and a setback as only a small bump in the road.
Wanted to take measurements but I can't find the tape so I'll have to wait on that till I can either find it or buy another one. 
Cash is tight right now...we are hopefully closing on the house we currently rent in the next week or so. 
I am going to enjoy the weekend but not with FOOD, with life. :)

Today, I'm not sure what to write about. I wish my relationship with food was simple. I'm hungry, I eat healthy items, I'm full, I'm done. But food for me is like a drug.

You feel bad, you do a line of coke, you feel better by feeling nothing.
You feel bad, you shoot some heroin or smoke some weed, you feel better by being numb to your emotions.
You feel bad, you drink till you'll drunk as skunk, more often then not make an ass out of yourself, but good news is....you were too drunk to remember so after you sober up, most is well.

Setting aside addiction, your body can survive without drugs and alcohol. But food, you NEED food or you'll die. So how do you successfully manage this mess when you can't just walk away?
I like food because it makes me feel better, like a warm blanket right out of the dryer on a crisp autumn afternoon. I like food because it doesn't question me or berate me or judge me.
I do things that an addict does; I shovel spoonful's of peanut butter  in my mouth and pretty much eat an entire day's of calories in five minutes. I'll buy a box of donuts and eat the entire thing on the way home, throw the box in the neighbors trash, and then eat dinner with the family pretending the donut episode ever happened.I can polish off an entire bag of anything Reese's by myself, I don't know maybe Reese's are drugs. I think that may be a possibility.

I think my binge times might be a cover for anxiety. I feel like I have no control over the events happening in my life so I eat. I didn't really think I had anxiety till this year. After an episode with blurry vision that turned quickly into what I thought was a stroke or heart attack, a trip to the doctor and a full work up showed I'm healthy. I am fat as hell but my blood pressure is good, my cholesterol is good, I DON'T have diabetes, I have anxiety. I wanted to have diabetes, isn't that insane? I wanted it to be anything other than my mind but lo and behold, my brain doesn't work right. Damn.... I should of been happy that I still have a chance to get my body healthy without having to carry some excess baggage but I was just numb.

Anxiety feels like it was all for naught. When I was younger I was diagnosed as a manic depressive, of course back 30 years ago the meaning was a little different than now. And to feel like I had just went in one giant circle is frustrating. I want to cry but I can't, I want to scream but I'm silent. I just want something different. I want a different me. I want the me I dream about and look forward to. I want to change my life, I want to find out why.

There is no denying, that in the end, when you strip away everything, you are the only person who stands responsible for getting here. You can look to outside influences, blame history or projection, you can say that had situations been different...different choices would have been made. You can claim time was short, money was scarce, support was weaning. And for the most part, you can convince yourself even on the best of days, all these things are true, and they might be as a matter of fact, BUT they negate nothing.

Why? Because in the end, your muscles are still sore, you body is still aching, and your health is still deteriorating. These are facts. You feel them every time you move, you breath, and you exert. At 43, my body feels more like 57 and what's most frustrating, is that I know better. I know how wonderful I feel after months of consistent yoga, or when I swim for an hour or make it up the hill trudging through the rain. Those things nourish my mind and body and spirit in ways that food can not and has never been able to. I feel fulfilled and accomplished and whole. So why do I stop? Why do I disengage from actions that HELP me? What the hell is wrong with me that causes me to keep sabotaging my own well being? 

Divulging into my own pathology is terrifying but there is a reason (or several reasons) I keep undermining my own success and accomplishments. To get the problem to a workable level, I must determine the underlying issues and include them into the entire equation. Continuing to miss pieces does not allow me to complete the puzzle, I can not get out of the madhouse until I start to make a comprehensive map to the door. 

So let's begin by discussing what being fat gains me, and make no mistake, it does provide me with aspects I feel are vital to my survival. I am cute, not drop dead model gorgeous, I don't have an appearance that stops traffic, I am not Helen of Troy beautiful, but when I'm slimmer I'm quite a cutie pie. I have a great personality, I'm fun, I love to laugh, I'm compassionate and understanding, and people genuinely like to be around me. When I'm heavy, none of these things bother me. I engage with strangers willingly and freely and am told quite often how I have a beautiful personality. I feel comfortable with each interaction I have. I feel safe.

But when I start to lose weight and transcend over from what I see as a fat happy person to a more attractive, desirable woman, as soon as the first comment comes or a stranger asks me out to dinner, I freak out. I just don't mean being uncomfortable and weirded out. I'm talking a full-fledged PTSD meltdown. I go from feeling in control to completely vulnerable and exposed. I feel weak and controlled. I question everyone's intent and over-analyze their verbiage. I don't want any other man than my husband of 25 years, I love him, I adore him (even though sometimes I want to kill him or make him lose his ability to speak for a few hours), so why can't people just continue to address me with no hint of sexuality. I don't want the comments, I despise that kind of attention, and I start to hate people.

Why do I do this? I'm a survivor of sexual assault and someone who doesn't want to be seen as a creature of someone else's sexual desire. I don't want to ever have to go through that again...EVER. I'm at a point in my life where it doesn't define me and I'm not embarrassed to talk about it if someone asks, I just don't want to have to go back to all that pain. So I've traded this heartache for that agony but as is turns out, they both suck eggs pretty hard and if I don't figure out how to make it all work together, they are each gonna put me in the grave collectively. And then he wins, without having done anything to me in years, the bastard wins and he victimizes me all over again. Shit. 

You wake up one day and you're in your early forties and you're like...what the hell? When did this happen? It seems like yesterday that I was 20 years old, married with two babies, and looking to get in shape and get my health together. I had a plan, I had time. But somehow life got in the way and I took care of everyone else but me. Damn it....
Today I'm 43, the babies are both in grad school, I'm still married to the same man who was crazy enough to marry me all those years ago, and looking to get in shape and get my health together....wtf Faith, seriously? Except now I need a plan that works and time is ticking by faster than ever.
I'm sure over the span of this journey I'll divulge into what brought me here and the pathology of my own self image but today, I'm just not up for that.
Today it's about the movement, or lack thereof. Today it's about sore muscles and tired joints. Today it's about getting old and wanting to live long enough to see my grandkids and be fit enough to play with them.
Right now I weigh 318 and at 5 foot 2, I'm a fat little butterball.
My first goal is to lose 50 pounds, breaking it down into 2 phases.
The first phase is from now to December 24. I love Christmas, it's my favorite time of the year so I'm going to work on a gift for me, my health!!!
And then the second phase will run from New years to my birthday in April.
What does 50 pounds mean? It means more flexibility, being able to make it up the stairs easily (we have 15 stairs just to get into our house), better sleep, 200 pounds of pressure OFF my knees, and better sex.....oh that's what I want more than anything actually (he he).
I'm starting with exercise goals where several different components are broken down by numbers, I can't assign days individually because sometimes the body isn't willing to cooperate, this way I have the flexibility to make different choices. My ultimate exercise goal is to get back in the water, I love being in the pool. Nothing makes me as happy as swimming. In the water I feel free, in all aspects, mentally, spiritually, emotionally. The water is comforting and fluid, quiet and engaging. I get such a burst of energy and overall well being after I'm in the water.
But for now I am focusing on flexibility with yoga and strength with weights.
I will take a weight on Sat with first time measurements.