Insert GRRRR face here.

Yes, that's right.

I am making a squishy, probably highly unflattering BLERGGGHHH, grrrrrr, blehhhhh face right now.

Why, you ask?

I'm fluffy.  That's why.

Sarah who used to be 320+something pounds would be quite infuriated with 200lb, size-14 Sarah for complaining about her current state of being.  But, while I once was a tight, fit, size-12ish, 200lb lean, mean, dense, muscle, awesome-machine...

Now?  I am 200lbs of less muscle and a lot more wiggle.

Here's the thing.  Life happens.  It is pretty easy to commit to getting super buff and being in full-on-workout-super-mega-beast-mode when you have a part time job, a lot of time on your hands, and a large part of your very humble income is committed to the gym.

"What shall I do on my day(s) off?  Hmm.  Work out for 2 hours.  Oh - friend wants to go for a walk and then work out later, also?  Cool!"  And then I just worked out for almost 4 hours.

This would happen a couple of times a week, along with the more "normal" workouts that were only 1-2 hours.  But let's get real, yo.

Who has 2-4 hours a day to work out when you also work at least 45 hours a week, have a home, have a life, have people you love and want to see, and you need to...oh, you know - SLEEP.  Or eat.  Or, like, actually engage in life.

I don't know how to do it all.  I don't.  I have tried to figure it out, but I really don't know.  And this, my friends, has been the single biggest struggle over the last 2 years.  I should be grateful that I am 200lbs and not 330.  I should enjoy that, while I'm not small, I'm at least still in Curvy Girl Land instead of You're Slowly Killing Yourself Land.

This brings up two huge things that are plaguing my brain of late:

1.  How do you accept where you are?  Others have lovely things to say, especially those who haven't seen you since you lost the initial weight and are so excited for you.  It's strange how, even though they're right, even the loveliest things fall on deaf ears when you aren't succeeding how you feel you should.  It's almost angering.  And, why do I still see myself as a big person?  I don't think other people who've only met me since I've been this physical version of me see me that way.  When is everything good enough?

AAAAAAND two.

I want to be really physically fit again.  How do I do that while committing more realistic amounts of time per day to fitness?  I want to commit 30-75 minutes a day to physical activity.  My knees are in a bit of a state of disarray due to my weight history, so there are a few limitations.  But I want to be STRONG again.  I want to firm up again.  How do I do that knowing full well that I can't be the person who lackadaisically spends her multiple days off per week doing whatever she fancies, part of which happens to be working out for hours on end.

Readers who are fitness types or who have already or are struggling with this - throw a girl some pointers (but please avoid squats and lunges - my knees can't take it).  I really, really need it.  I want it.  Need it, dare I say.  No, no dares.  Definitely need it.

And those of you who are or have struggled with self-perception and trying to find a way to be content with where you're at:  lend me your thoughts.

I know it may seem as though I kid when I seem as though I'm talking with you all, but I really am.  I picture you all chatting right back to me.  I've got quite a soft spot for you, I do.  There are some things that I've experience and am going through that I really hope can help others know what they're getting themselves into when they lose weight.  But also?  I'm a girl who wants to hear from others who've already gone beyond where I am.  This is a conversation - not a lecture.  So let's chat.

Let the Little Victories Commence.

Little Victories, friends.  Little things add up to such big things.

As I've talked about in this here blog many times before, one of the truest of the most true things I can relay to you (even when I'm not doing it myself...) is this:  I will never cease to be repeatedly amazed at the mighty things that can happen when you simply choose to "do."  

Pyramids weren't built in a day, blah blah blah, insert cliche here, etc.  You get it.
(Speaking of pyramids, Fat Archaeology is SO happening again.)

While I most certainly have not been perfect since my last post, here's what I have been:

Honest.

With myself, that is.

Today, I didn't stick to my calorie goal.  But, I logged it.  I put it all in MyFitnessPal and I made sure to burn off what I ate.  My workout today may not make me lighter, but it will make me more fit, and I won't gain anything.  And working out most certainly did one of the things for which I love it the most:  it made me happy.  I ate a cookie, I had a piece of cheese pizza, I drank two Whitsuns with my work team, and I am still happy.  Not beating myself up, not angry about my poor decisions - content.  And even though I didn't stick to my 1500 calories, you know what I still am?

Happy.

Little Victories are so huge.  I have a tendency to concentrate on the very large, overall picture of where I know things need to and can be, and forget that it takes many a little goal to get there.  If we constantly think about the end result without breaking it down into smaller, regular, attainable and realistic goals, we set ourselves up for a feeling of perpetual failure.  I drive myself absolutely nutty and get nothing accomplished.  It feels infinitely better to meet lots of little goals.

If memory serves me, I think I may know a girl who did just this and lost about 130lbs once upon a time...

Here are my goals for the next week:
I will work out 5 times.
I will stick to my calorie goal a minimum of 4 times.
I will make a new, kickass installment of my Sweaty Beats playlist.
I will spend a half hour per day until Saturday tidying my bedroom.  My closet kind of threw up all over...
I must see How to Train Your Dragon 2.  Seriously, though.  It has to happen.

What've you got up your sleeve?  What would you like to tackle over the next little while?  Pick a little victory in your sights, or perhaps you've already had one recently!  Share away, friends.

Fashionably Late-r than ever.

It has been over a year since we've chatted, readers.  I named my blog partly because of the fact that I am very much a late bloomer, and largely because I am almost always late.  Well...  Better late than never.

To try and catch you up with everything my mind, body, and heart have gone through and learned in the last year in one blog post would just be silly.  So where do we start?

The end.  The beginning of the end.  Or, well...  A new beginning.

This blog began when a late bloomer was asked by so many to share her weight loss story - of growth, of struggles, tips, advice, hope, inspiration, defeat, a fair few archaeological discoveries, and a handful of other things that became part of her life changing.  The pounds began to shed.  My mind and body became stronger.  Becoming part of a community of you all who have been, are going, or are about to go through it by sharing through this blog helped me accomplish great things.  It gave me accountability.  It helped me sort through the remarkable chaos that is my brain at times.  It gave me support, goals, and so many people who helped me succeed by becoming a part of my little journey.

But what happens when things aren't so great?

You stop writing in your blog for over a year.
You can't do a single push-up.
You can't plank for 3 minutes anymore.
That pilates video that was too easy now seems impossible.
You don't make healthy meals at home on the regular.
You eat thoughtlessly and have developed a sweet tooth.
Your clothes still fit, but where they once were up against 190lbs of lean, mean, muscle machine, they now slightly cut in to 205lbs of wiggly, wobbly, fluffiness.
You now look like you weigh 205lbs, whereas before, that 190lbs was a toned-up-almost-size-10.
That picture of you 2 years ago when you were healthier and happier than you've ever been is now more difficult to look at than a photo of you from 4 years ago when you could barely work out the logistics of which bathroom stall you'd fit into best.
You forget that you can once again ride roller coasters.
You forget that you can shop in pretty much any store you want, and you own clothes that legitimately fit and have the size Medium in them.
You forget that walking a 5k in less than 40 minutes is the usual.
You forget that you now opt to ride your bike to work, and then go on bike rides for 20 miles like it ain't no thing.
You forget that so many people who worried about you for so long, but loved you as you were, are still happy to see you living life in ways you kept yourself from living before.
You get annoyed that people who know you as you are don't realize where you've come from, but before, looked forward to the day when people didn't know you as you were, but just as you are now.
You forget that you've had so many new experiences that are possible because of how you chose to change your life.
You think you have pretty moments, but don't like yourself as much these days.
You see all the things you didn't do, didn't do as well as you wanted to, or did wrong - and you never think about all the things you did, did well, and did right.
You have the most colorful, varied, brilliant, distinctive, wonderfully ridiculous, perfectly peculiar, absurdly loving bunch of fictional characters that are your real-life friends.
You have little cousins that see you in your bathing suit and say, "Remember when you used to be fat?!"

I am flawed.  I haven't made the best choices.  I've stumbled.

I sometimes feel like a failure.

And then I remember.

I am an intelligent, talented, respected, beautiful person who loves people and is so very fortunate to be loved in return.  I have had my dream jobs.  I've lived in another country.  I have an amazing job at a Michigan craft brewery that has so much potential it's silly, and I work with a cluster of dynamic, passionate, driven, supportive people.  I've had little adventures that you think only happen in the movies, but really happen every day.  I have so much to be thankful for, and so much to look forward to.

I was Sarah Bauman who lost 123lbs, her life changed, then wound up a bit lost.

As of today, I'm Sarah Bauman who's lost zero pounds, is choosing to change her life again, and can see the path off to the left, but just needs to cut through some overgrown shrubbery and will be right back on it.

I'm a late bloomer for life.  Sometimes things take a little while.  But while I have life, I choose to accept that blooming late is better than never.

I'm back.  I've missed you all.  Here we go again.

Balance.

When life gives you a box of chocolates, or some lemons, or a tornado or a big sunny double rainbow - I don't know.  Feed the tornado some lemons while you juggle chocolates trying to explain to one rainbow that the other one just forgot it's not its turn that day.

Life makes just about that much sense.

These last couple of months have been interesting!  I feel as though I've fallen into a trap of apologetic blogger who means well but doesn't post enough, etc.  So, let's just get that out of the way.  Sorry I haven't been posting as diligently as I once did.  But, well, rainbows are fussy and it turns out tornadoes love lemons.  The chocolates?  Well, they looked delicious - but I'm trying to maintain my girlish figure, so I thought I may as well learn to juggle.  With chocolate.  It's been interesting trying to figure out how to balance it all.

Which brings me to today's lesson:

Balance.

How does one obtain this?  Some people just seem to inherently have it.  Others never have it, but they're really good at juggling.  Some people learn it eventually...  Others just don't have it, don't get it, and never will.  I'm not quite sure where I fall on this spectrum, but the last few months have been a lesson in this department - that is for certain.

As I've mentioned before, I don't have a dimmer.  My switch is ON, or it's off...

Kalamazoo State Theatre, Kalamazoo, MI.  My home away from home.

I work at a beautiful, historic, old theatre.  Tucked in little coves along the theatre walls are these fantastic Liberace-esque candelabras.  Until a few years ago, their only light setting was on.  Really, really on.  We wanted to install dimmers so that we could dim the lights during our events to still have that romantic, old-school aesthetic, but we knew that it was going to be quite a tedious and laborious process to get it done.  This place is nearing 90 years old, and changes like this are always quite a feat.  Getting to wiring tucked in walls made of plaster, horse hair, and more is always a bit of a trick.  Every time I sneak into the theatre during a show and see the gentle glow, though, I'm reminded of how very much it was worth it.

I've been trying really hard to install my own dimmer, but apparently it required a couple of meetings, some brainstorming sessions, a cost-analysis, some compromise, and then some difficult rewiring to install this stinking dimmer.  Actually, I'd prefer to not think of it as a dimmer, but more of a...  balancer-thingamadoojob.  Yes, that's much better.

Nearly 90-year-old light control panel.  The
switches next to the tape marked "on" actually
turn on stars and clouds on the theatre ceiling.

I'm quite hard on myself when I'm not as diligent about my food.  I stress out when I have a day that I didn't work out, and I really get perturbed when there are a few days in a week where I don't work out.  But there is so much life happening - meeting people, changing circumstances, fun things that pop up, and more.  I've had so much fun getting out and about, making an effort to be present, do things, have fun with people, enjoy new and old friends.  My role at work has evolved in a wonderful way, bringing along new, interesting challenges, and I am one busy, busy bee.  Finding time for everything I want to make happen in a day is a challenge.

So many interesting, and thankfully, good things are happening.  I've been reminded recently by a few of you outstanding people who I've gotten to know through this blog that, sometimes, it is good and it is necessary to pause, reflect, see how far you've come, and appreciate where you're at.

I'm in the mood to turn the lights on full blast again.  Brighten it up a bit.  But, I suppose adjusting my balancer-thingmadoojob to let life happen every now & then won't kill me.  I may not be as full bore at all times as I have been, but I'm certainly enjoying the glow.

5k and A New Day.

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Sunday.  It should have been a great day.  I should have been really pleased with myself.

Should have...

Last year, my grand ol' city of Kalamazoo became host to a new marathon - Borgess Hospital's Run for the Health of It.  The company I work for decided to sponsor any of us who wanted to get involved, so I decided it'd be a great idea and a great example of my new-found healthy lifestyle to take part.  I had a hard time coming alive that day, but I pushed myself through it and I finished in 52 minutes.  I was disappointed that day because I knew I did over 3 miles regularly in a little less than that, but I was pleased that I'd decided to partake.

It's so interesting looking back.  One year ago, I was about 285lbs and had lost about 30.  I was in better shape and feeling really good about myself.  I walked along with my friend Erin, each of us with our pump-you-up tunes channeling into our brains through one earbud so we could chat along the way.  We huffed it!  We did the math, and we walked an average of 4.13 miles per hour and I was really pleased with the steady pace, even uphill.  It's really weird to think that I did the same thing today as I did a year ago, but about 90lbs lighter, and about 10 minutes faster.  It felt good to improve and feel how far I've come.

But.

After all of that, I couldn't stop thinking about how my lack of diligence has caught up with me and I spent the better part of the day feeling so very disappointed in myself.  I know I've put on a couple of pounds.  I've had a rough month, which is no excuse.  But instead of my exercise enhancing my weight loss, it's helped me juuuuust about break even.  I've realized that if there are easy, yummy things around me, I don't say no very well.  I'm just fine when I can control the foods around me and how they've been prepared.  When I'm not in as much control as I'd like, though, I find myself either eating without even realizing what I've consumed, or almost having an anxiety attack about how what I'm going to do so that I stick within what I know I should consume.  I've had a few awkward moments at restaurants when I pretty much have an anxiety attack over what I'm going to eat because it seems like there isn't anything reasonable for me to eat.  True story.  Ask my Mom.

What am I going to do about this?

I've gotta celebrate!  I've come so far!  I'm perfectly capable of making good choices, but I realize I'm still in a phase where I have to log my calories the majority of the time, because while I am a better eater overall, I still have times where I eat thoughtlessly and end up eating things that I shouldn't.  Work in progress here, people.  Work in progress.  And while this is nauseatingly overused, tomorrow really is a new day.  Today was a new day, too.  What did I do with it?  What shall I do with tomorrow?

I decided that today, I would reboot - get back to my good, ol' healthy eating standards and let my body get back to normal and recover from all of the things it's not used to processing.  I already feel better.

And what surprise awaited me on this day of getting back on the horse?  A phone call from my gym.  I work out regularly at my local Snap Fitness, and they started a weight loss challenge in the beginning of March.  We had to do the final weigh in last Monday, the last day of my gym membership.  I was really sad that I wouldn't be able to afford to keep it up, but it turns out  I will have 3 more months of gym membership.

For free.

Yep - for free.  I won!  Diligence pays off, and just because I may have flubbed up for a while...  Well, I am human, and I mess up sometimes.  Thank God for reminding me, though, that just because I screwed up, it doesn't mean that I am a screw up.

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Goodbye, 200's!

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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.

Jack of Hearts

I’ve always thought of myself as a bit of a “jack of all trades.”  I’m one of those people who’s pretty good at a lot of things, but I’ve never just hunkered down and become great at any one thing in particular.  Over the last few months, I’ve added a few more things to my repertoire. 

Joyful face.

I’ve been doing some work for family friends of ours, and I’ve found it incredibly rewarding.  Need your deck sanded and stained?  I’m on it.  Weedwhacking?  Done.  I’ve painted walls, puttied holes – all kinds of things.  And it’s been great.  While I’m usually dirty, sweaty and busy getting things done, I’m also having some really valuable alone time, listening to full albums of bands I like, and remaining active all day long.  

So today, while sprucing up a bathroom I painted to sounds courtesy of Simon & Garfunkel, I fixed a drawer that couldn't stay in its cabinet. I was really impressed with myself, and very thankful my parents had me help with things like that around the house. 

Then, I thought about how awesome it will be to have my own home eventually, because I’ll be capable of doing so much myself.

And then, I thought about how, at this rate, it’ll be a million years before I even have my own home.

And then, I wondered why I hadn’t ever just decided to work really hard at one thing so I’d have been more successful by now.

And THEN I wondered what on earth it is I’m meant to do…

Should I go back to school?  Should I have been a music teacher? Should I have been a professional musician?  Am I supposed to keep working in music venues?  Should I?  Could I?  Etc., blah blah blah?!?!!? 

Insert mental spiral of 3.9 billion thoughts and questions about my place in this world and what I am meant to dooooo… HERE.

Suddenly, in mid tub-scrub, this thought stopped the frantic spiral abruptly:

You were created to love people, be joyful, and make people happy. 

Christmas Present!

After that, I thought about how I had unknowingly allowed my weight to rob me of my joy and my ability to exude love for others.  I'd had moments of it, but I was too trapped in a mess of discontent and self-loathing to be able to let that side of me flourish.  Once again, I found myself dumbfounded and thankful for another unexpected, wonderful change.

I don’t know which of all trades I will be the biggest jack at.  What I do know, in hindsight, is that I adore humans and I love working with people and ensuring smiles are on faces when I’m done with them.  I sincerely hope that I will always be fortunate enough to have music be an integral part of whatever I do, but at least I know what it is I’m meant to do:  love.

The "D" Word.

Yeah.  The “D” word.  Go ahead – guess which one it is.

Dresses?  Dorky?  Does she mean a swear word?  No, dumby…  Oh -that’s a D-word, too…

Dating.  I hate that word.  When I think of dating, I think of some awkward, lame thing you do for an evening with some person you’ve barely just met, and a bunch of annoying, stupid things and whatnot.  Do I sound like a bratty little teenager?  WELL – you don’t  date anyone properly for, like, 7 years and we’ll see how far you regress.  I haven’t been interested in anyone in a very, very, verylong time.  It’s partly because I just haven’t, but I’m also pretty sure it’s because I’ve been pulling an ostrich, too. 

The idea of "dating" makes me about as comfortable as this video's business-man-by-day-wild-man-by-night, Maurice, and scrawny-wouldn't-have-made-it-as-a-viking Fred.  For lots of reasons.

Before you lose weight, it’s very easy to think, “Gee, golly – when I lose weight, I’ll be one pretty desirable hepcat!  It’ll be so much easier then!  Everything will just magically work out because I’m thinner – HOORAY!”

Well, I very well may be one desirable hepcat.  But this is another side of me I've kept safely hidden behind my steadily deteriorating wall of flubber.  Like many other things I've talked with you guys about, getting back in touch with it causes more of that annoying but liberating self-realization/growth nonsense.  I really am a pro at keeping things away that might hurt my heart.

I’ve never been one of those girls who embraced their size.  There are plenty of beautiful, strong, fantastic women who have.  I have never been comfortable with my physical body.  I’ve always known how to dress well – hide the funny bits and flatter the good ones…  I’ve never been shy, and I’ve always liked the things that are intrinsically me.  At times, I've thought that my personality and "coolness" were great enough to help people overlook my physical shortcomings, but I don't think I've ever really felt that it's possible for me to find love without fixing my exterior. 

Actually, what I really thought was that there was no way I would be able to meet someone great. I would either have to be single, or put up with someone gross enough to settle for me.  So, I’d rather be alone. 

Do I feel this way about people other people?  No.  Do we all say horrible, awful things to ourselves that we would never say to another person?  Abso-freaking-lutely.  The thought of someone saying things like that to a person I care about gives me the instant urge to cause them physical pain.  A couple of times.  But, somehow, it is always perfectly acceptable when trying to fairly, realistically analyze myself. 

So, I suppose I was right.  My exterior did have to change, but not for the destructive reasons I'd convinced myself of, and not to make me worthy of love.  Things at my core had to be shaken, rearranged, and sorted out so that I could be capable of accepting love should it happen to come my way.

So, when will it happen for me?  When will I finally meet someone again?

Who knows?  I look forward to it, but I don't care when.  For now, I am happy learning to love myself little by little.

I. Love. Clothes.

Shopping in Chicago before Christmas, 2004.

I really do love clothes.  Even during my during my misguided phases of poor clothing choices, my love of shopping and clothing has remained steadfast.  I’ve joked many a time in the past that maybe I was meant to be overweight, because if I were skinny, I’d be in serious shopping trouble.  Funnily enough, losing weight has curbed my shopping appetite.  Somewhat.  

Actually, after typing that last sentence, I came to a bit of a realization.  It would seem that my shopping habits have changed quite similarly to my eating habits.  I don’t need to buy whatever I can because it’s all that’s available to me.  Now, I have more options.  Better options! 

I assumed, pre-weightloss, that I’d go hog wild with all the clothing that would be available to me.  Turns out, just the opposite is true.  I think I shopped before with a kind of frenzy, thinking, “I’ve got to get this, because what else can I get?!?!”  Now if I see something I like, that urgency has dissipated greatly because it’s so much easier to find even more things I like. 

The ability to be choosey is much more satisfying than buying a bunch of things simply because I can.

If I could splurge, though, I would.   I’m going to visit my brothers in Chicago this weekend, and you bet your bum I’ll be doing some shopping!  I love the Forever 21 plus size line, so I visit the website often, then hit up the store when I’m in Chicago.  Especially at the rate I shrink out of things these days, I love how trendy-but-non-committal Forever 21 allows me to be.  I won’t be broken-hearted if I spend under $20 on something cool that just lasts me this winter.  I’m pretty fickle when it comes to clothes anyway.  The likelihood of me wearing something a few years in a row is pretty slim.

Here’s a bit of a Pinterest wishlist for this fall, and down below are a few of my favorites from ASOS Curve right now.  What are some of your must-have fall items?  Are you a scarf and jacket addict like me, or what floats your boat?  Comment!  And if you’ve got something awesome to share, you’d better have a link so the rest of us can gawk, too.

   

  

70 Pounds - Gone to the Fishes.

I was hoping that I might hit 70 pounds when I weighed myself this week, but I wasn't planning on it.  I had 2 pounds to go, and couldn't tell if I'd hit my next 10lb benchmark.  Sure enough, I lost 3.2 pounds, which puts me at a total of 71.1 total pounds lost since mid-March.  I'm only 19 pounds away from losing 30 by the time I turn 30 on December 19th!  The funny thing is, I wasn't all that excited about it.  My reaction was more, "Ahhh, yes!  Good.  Now on to 80."  I hadn't thought about a reward of any kind.

The first time I purposely rewarded myself for my weight loss, I’d planned on getting sushi on the way home from church.  But just as I thought it, I was about to pass the Kalamazoo County Fairground and remembered the record & cd expo was happening right that very afternoon.  Sushi smushi – records win every time.  So, I ended up spending quite a bit more than I would have on sushi, but I celebrated in good company.

Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Little Anthony and the Imperials, The Left Banke and more…  It was like Thanksgiving dinner – my ears’ tastebuds were beyond satisfied, bellies full and ready to take a nap while being sung to sleep by Nat King Cole’s “Stardust.” 

Funnily enough, the first thing I thought
when I saw this photo was, "OH MY GOSH -
my wrist and arm look NORMAL!"

This time, however, my belly was literally stuffed (but not too much) with tuna, yellowtail, salmon, and other lovely little bits of cucumber, avocado, cream cheese and asparagus.  With a healthy dose of wasabi, of course.

After treating myself to the records when I hit 40 pounds, I decided that it was much more satisfying rewarding myself with non-edible things.  But, my “Faux Aunt” Peggy texted me Monday and asked if I wanted to get sushi. 

Yes.  Yes I would.  And I did.  And it was delicious and wonderful. 

I guess, of all the edible things you could splurge on, sushi isn’t the guiltiest of pleasures.  Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself…  But, it was fun hanging out with Peggy and having this well-deserved treat.  And, hey – if I can’t reward my progress with a treat after breaking the 70 pounds mark, when will I?  It was one of those times where I had to lighten up, stop overthinking things, and enjoy.

The funny thing is, the next day I woke up and felt different.  I felt lighter, actually.  SO, I weighed myself and I really was lighter.  Two pounds lighter.  It doesn’t count, though – not until my official weekly weigh in on Monday morning. 

The point is, the world does not end because you treat yourself every once in a while.  And I needed some delicious fish and that extra little weigh in on Tuesday morning to remind me of this. 

So, here are some photos to celebrate me having moved on from the hippies, and being forced into disco.  I’ve got leg warmers, spandex and neon headed my way soon…  Just you wait.  

My new size 16 jacket from Mom!
Got it at Sears.  Sears'll surprise you...

Shirt from Old Navy
Already too big!

Size 18 Style & Co jeans from
Macy's. Also loose!

Little Victories

I now understand why laptops got their name.  You can use them on... your... lap.  Remarkable!  

Whatever, No-hands Smug-face...
I can do it now, too.

After my weekly workout date with my dear friend, Lindsey, I wanted to look something up, so I grabbed my laptop, set it on my lap, and googled, or imdb-ed, or whatever-ed away.  I remember being elated a few months ago after realizing I could finally use my laptop on my lap.  When I mentioned this to her, she said, "Hmm, I never would've though of that..."  If you find yourself puzzled by this also, well, let me explain it simply for you: my tummy wanted my lap all to itself and wouldn't allow me to use laptops in their intended state.  I'd either use it at a table, or with some creative rigging to use it in the general lap-type area.  Come to think of it, there are a lot of creative/rigging type things I've done in the past due to my body interfering...

But now?  Ha!  Laptop!

I bet this means the next time I fly I won't have to try and make it appear as though the tray in front of me is comfortably in its resting position when it is, in fact, actually balancing on my belly...

I can not wait until I finally get to test that one out.  

No-Guilt Yum-Yum for Your Tum-Tum

This morning, while deliriously flailing my arms about trying to kill my clock that had just startlingly interrupted a comatose sleep, there was a “BANG-BANG-BANG!!!” on my door.  Then, I heard my roommate’s cheeky four-year-old voice saying, “Hey Saywuhhhhh, wanna go for a walk and get Starrrrbuuuucks?”  I didn’t know what the heck was going on, but some conscious part of me knew that it sounded like a great idea. 

So, today's been a great day thus far; a walk in the rain, Starbucks, and then lunch, all for less than 380 total calories. 

What’d I get at Starbucks? 
Venti Iced Americano with Splenda and 3-4 tablespoons of skim milk.  Total:  45 calories.

Don't fear me!

What’d I eat for lunch? 
Avocado Tuna Salad sandwich and a cup of watermelon.  Total:  333 calories.

Avocado Tuna Salad Ingredients (serves 2):  

1 whole avocado, delightfully squished with a potato masher
2 tablespoons of Kraft Light Miracle Whip (tastes equally good with Light Mayo)
1 can of tuna in water
2 Earthgrains 100% Multi-Grain Thin Bun
10 cucumber slices

Can I make a lunch for fewer calories?  
Yes.  But, I know that I need to incorporate things like avocados that are full of healthy fats, essential vitamins and even more potassium than bananas.  I'm trying to be healthy, not just lose weight.  I love it because it’s a filling, wholesome, balanced lunch.   And it’s just plain yummy.  

Now, it’s workout time.  Hope you’re having a good day, too.

 

Fat Archaeology

Would consider being chased by these if it
meant Jeff Goldbum would save me.

Christmas, 1992: our family had gone to the theatre to see a holiday movie.  On the television screens in the lobby, I saw someone drill a tiny hole into an amber stone, insert a needle, then pull out dino-DNA from a mosquito. 

Blood rushed to my face, adrenalin surged through my body, and I was beside myself insisting we absolutely had to see it.  Of course, I was ecstatic afterwards, despite being terrified that Velociraptors were going to chase me up the stairs and “compies” (Compsognathus) were going to nibble my toes if I let my feet dangle off of my bed.

I wanted so badly to be an Archaeologist and used to daydream about Egyptian ruins, Mayan temples, and most of all, how exciting it would be discovering dinosaurs’ remains. 

After all my dreaming, I’ve finally had a few successful discoveries.  They are as follows:

My collar bones. 
My knees. 
My elbows. 
Some kind of bones in my butt I can feel when I sit flat on the floor…
My ribs.
My knuckles.
I could be mistaken, but I do appear to have shoulders forming.  Will report back when officially confirmed.

Knuckles exposed.

I had no idea there was unfluffy matter underneath that extraneous, uncharted, fatty landscape.  Now, the downside to revealing these bones: less safety padding than there used to be.  It is highly likely that my clumsiness will result in pain due to the lack of natural cushioning.  Nevertheless!  I am happy to be making these discoveries, and have dubbed the discovery process of my body revealing its hidden features “Fat Archaeology.”

If you’ve never been as overweight as I have, this may seem a bit silly.   Well, Fat Archaeology really is a bit silly – but it’s thrilling to see and feel things I never have before.  The weight loss process is so full of little victories every day that no one else may understand.  These little victories (physically, mentally, and spiritually) could happen at any moment.  And while they may seem small, these are by far the most huge and most rewarding victories I have encountered along the way. 

You’re going to see mini-blogs on here regularly entitled “Fat Archaeology” and “Little Victories.”  I would absolutely love to hear about your “Little Victories.”  Feel free to post your unique, odd, embarrassing, thrilling, little victories that pop up out of nowhere on here, or on my facebook page.  

By the way – no, I did not have to look up Compsognathus. 

Life's a Beach.

Today, I was scolded cheekily by a state trooper next to me at the Mattawan, Michigan highway exit for listening to Neil Diamond too loudly. 

This has absolutely nothing to do with anything, but it was awesome and it was absolutely imperative that you know this. 

“A cop scolded you, eh?”

“Yes.  Apparently cops don’t like Neil Diamond singing about women from Kentucky.  THE nerve.  I bet he hates people named Caroline, too…”

But, alas – I digress!  I guess it does fit, because I was listening to Cool 101, my favorite oldies station on the planet, on the way to grab my roommate so we could head off to South Haven for the afternoon.  Michigan summers are sublime, and there’s not much of it left.  So, naturally, we felt it was our duty as Michiganders to go to Lake Michigan today.  With diet green tea and quite a smorgasbord of beef jerky in tow, we did just that. 

The beach has always been, for some reason, a safety zone for me.  Whatever it is about me that I try so desperately to hide the majority of the time seems to fall away as soon as there is water present.  My arms, my thighs, my tummy…  We could all dissect the living daylights out of ourselves, regardless of our size.  But when there is water present – pools, water parks, the beach...  All bets are OFF and it’s swim time. 

Why can’t I apply this reckless abandon more often?  Maybe it’s because the beach is a place where all bets are off for everyone.  Everybody’s vulnerable at the beach, but no one seems to give a hoot.  Bellies jiggle while footballs are thrown and overly-dramatically dove for.  Mistake tramp-stamps from that outrageous high school spring break 10 years ago abound.  And who cares?   Probably no one!  It’s the BEACH! 

I bet even Neil Diamond looks ridiculous at the beach.  Actually, I’m pretty stinkin’ sure Neil Diamond would look ridiculous at the beach…  (Feel free to insert your own outrageous mental picture here.   I’ll save you from mine.)  

I need to let life be a beach more often.  Just, hopefully without the cops getting involved.