I can fly.

By the seat of my pants.

Over the first big hump and giant fall on a rollercoaster.

Off a diving board.

Through my favorite online shops in .2 seconds flat and pinterest the heck out of them.

Through 2lbs of raw green beans in 30 minutes flat.

And out the side of a mother-loving plane 13,000 feet up.

People...

So much has been up in the air.  My living situation, my job changing yet again, plus all the magic, random, greatness summer throws at you 794 times a week; all of these have made for a few months of so very much uncertainty, and a scrambling-frazzled-slightly-kookoo Sarah.  It's all I've talked about!  Because: it's true.  

In the midst of a run a while back, I got a call from one of my nearest & dearest who was having a rough evening due to some general douchebaggery that she had, unfortunately, experienced.  After calming down my inner rage-monster (don't mess with my loves, and don't keep me from working out - I go green and play with SUV's like they're Tonka Trucks), I met up with my friend, and a pretty grand opportunity arose.

Her:  "Wanna go skydiving?"

Me:  Instant elation, mental image of running and jumping out of a plane at full bore, intense desire to do it immediately.  And then I used my word(s)...

"YES!!!!!!!!!"

I've never had an intense desire to skydive, but as soon as this opportunity presented itself, it was done.  I was smitten with the idea.  I could not wait until the moment I got to jump out of a plane, and this mental video clip, of sorts, just kept replaying in my mind of me sprinting unreservedly out of a plane with the biggest grin on my face ever.  It was done.

As soon as we got there, I saw this guy.  He was nutty.  He was loud, hilarious, rough around the edges, and looked like he'd be a whole lot of fun and/or trouble.  So, when I heard him say, "ALL RIGHT - which one of you's SARAH?!" I was pleased.

I kept waiting for the moment when I'd get nervous or have second thoughts, but it never happened.  They even had to make us wait to resolve an issue with the plane, and that made me even more excited.

Fast forward past some coffee, great tunes, and watching others make it back to planet earth a few times to me, dangling out in mid-air, strapped to the chest of Crazy Todd.  My eyes are closed, yes, but it was a moment of happiness, I assure you.  

The butterflies that accompanied the initial drop were unreal. That moment of dropping straight down, feet first, was one of the greatest feelings I have ever experienced.  Falling.  Just falling...

I've felt a bit like I've been falling all summer - having jumped off of something with no bottom in sight, no person strapped to my back ready to pull the cord for me, and a frenzied, flailing, rather ungraceful fall.  I've been so concerned with seeing what I'm about to come careening down into, that I've neglected taking in the view of all the great things that have happened along the way.

Before I jumped, I had a chat with another one of the divers who worked there.  He asked how I was feeling about it, and I let him know that at this point, my only emotion was thrilled anticipation.  He gave me some great advice: no matter what, do not look down.  It wasn't that it's scary to look down, but he said, "Why bother staring at the ground, when all of the good stuff is straight ahead?"

So I took his advice.  I checked out the landscape a few times, but I spent what felt like an hour watching the skyline.  I watched as I grew closer to the clouds and then blew right through them.  I watched as the skyline faded into a slightly lighter blue.  And I smiled.  I smiled so much my face hurt when it was over.

Was it scary?!

What about the whole you-could-die thing?

Why?

No.
I didn't think of that...  I really didn't.  There was a pro stuck to my back, and all I wanted to do was run and jump and fly.
Why not?  

It was so quiet.
It was so peaceful.
It was magical.
It was absolute bliss.

The combination of being out of control yet completely at peace with the moment was just...  Correct.  I can't think of another word.  It was right.

Learning to be at peace with where you're at is something that I've been trying to learn for a long time.  During one of the key moments in my life, totally disconcerted and depressed with life as it was, my Dad told me, "Sarah.  You will not be able to progress until you are at peace with where you're at."

This is something that has come to mind more times than I can possibly recollect, and has been a bigger lesson than what I could have imagined.

So, what now?  Instead of feeling as though life is currently an ungraceful, frenzied, frightening fall with nothing but uncertainty and an impending rocky abyss awaiting to meet me, I'm going look ahead.  I'm going to remind myself that while I may be in mid free-fall, I need to take in the view and appreciate everything that's going on right in front of me.

I gave myself some time this summer to take a break and remember what it's like to live without being so overly control-freaked-out that I missed out on life.  I ate things I shouldn't have.  I drank things I shouldn't have.  I went places and did things at the drop of a hat.  While it was great, I've also been guilt-ridden the whole entire way. We'll talk more about this soon.  But, what do I have because of my giving in a bit?  Some amazing memories and life lessons, including learning to realize that the difference between falling and flying is as simple as putting my chin up.



Even if my face looks like this:

PS - Don't even pretend you haven't used "Pinterest" as a verb, too.  

Goodbye, 200's!

Tweet

On a work-out date night with
my friend, Lindsey.

I was prepared for my weigh-in Tuesday morning.  It is a huge time of transition, and I must admit – I lost control the last couple of weeks.  I worked out hard, but I am hugely aggravated that, in a mentally and emotionally difficult time, I allowed myself to be comforted by indulging in food.  Well – and a few pretty magical craft beers.

I actually left the 200’s the week prior, but I didn’t want to commit to it because I knew that I’d messed it up.  I was certain.  So, I braced myself, stood on the scale, and to my complete surprise, I saw these numbers:

197.7

ONE HUNDRED ninety seven pointseven pounds…

I’m really not in the 200’s anymore…  My weight really starts with a 1…  Can you even remember the last time you were in the 1’s?  The smallest weight I can remember is 216.  You are really, really for real in the 1’s, Sarah.  You’re really still there.  That sounds…  Normal…

Things are changing; so many things both in and out of my control.  And while there are many different ways these things have manifested, I realized it all boils down to this: 

I am finally okay with being me.

“Why is this a problem?” you ask?  Because more than being content and confident in myself, I have this little voice inside my head telling me to “know my place.” 

“You can’t say you’re pretty, or go for that, or try this, or think great things are possible for you – be humble,” I hear from some cruel, bossy place within me.  That is not humility. That is confusion, doubt, and fear rearing their ugly head. There has been a big, mean battle within me, and I seem to pull no punches.

No more.  I’m done with the 200’s, and I’m done with this battle.

Eat my shorts, 200's.  I kick and I punch.

Here is what has begun to sink in over the last couple of weeks:

I am a beautiful, loveable, smart, confident person who absolutely adores people and life, and has a good head on her shoulders.  I have no reason to doubt myself.  I have no reason to not stick to my guns.  I have no reason to cower.  I have no reason to feel unworthy.  I never used to be this way, I never should have begun, and I am finished with it.  

Moving into the 100’s, I’ve got to tell you – it’s an interesting time.  It’s a little scary.  And sometimes it’s hard.  And sometimes I freak out a little bit because I’m in a transition between who I was for a while, who I am, and who I’m becoming.  

I like who I’m becoming.

From top left to bottom right:  Me at about 320lbs in January 2011, me at over 300lbs in March of 2011, then
me at 60, 70, 80, 90lbs, and 100lbs lost!

If you'd like to catch up on the big milestones since I've started this here blog, feel free to check these out!

Sixty, Shimxty: Another 10lb Benchmark Smashed.
70lbs - Gone To The Fishes.
81lbs Get The Boot.
30's, Here I Come: Gained a year, and lost 90lbs.
Lost 101 Pounds and Found Myself.

Readers, have you already gone through some of these changes or find yourself in an interesting time of transition, yourself?  I would really love to hear from you.  How are you doing?  How did you get through it?  What advice can you give the rest of us, or what advice do you need from others?  There’s a pretty great group of you out there with invaluable life experience, so let’s share.