Lame Brain

The Sick got a hold of me & wouldn’t let go.  Then one kid got sick.  Then the other.  Then I pretty much lost my mind.

Literally.  The serotonin is completely absent from my brain. At least that’s how it feels.  Lame. Brain.

I’ve felt like this before. I know what causes it, pretty much.  SAD is part of the problem, which I can only do so much about.  My grief from losing Dad and all that drama is still hanging in my head.  On top of that, the leftover estate stuff is weighing me down.  I go through long periods where I don’t take time for myself, like to exercise or cook healthy meals.  I have stress at work, bickering children, a stinky dog, laundry piled to the ceiling…. there’s just a lot to deplete the happy brain chemicals, ya know?

I know how to fix it, mostly.  I fix it the lazy way with food.  We all know the consequences of that. I do feel better for a while. Ice cream and cookies take the edge off, just like any other drug addict’s weapon of choice. But there’s always the come down, which is guilt laden and serotonin sucking. 

And so the cycle goes, on an endless loop until I finally get so sick of it that I’m forced to pull myself out of the muck. Or, sometimes, someone else pulls me out. 

Tonight my husband told me, bless him, that he can’t handle me like this anymore.  He’s been nothing but supportive to me—he didn’t say it in a hurtful way. Here’s how it went down:  I was sitting in the recliner, watching the kids be silly together, and I was enjoying their banter but I felt empty inside.  My husband knows how I work better than anyone else, and I’m a pretty open book.  And he asked me what was wrong…. the usual, I said.  I can’t workout. I want to eat so I can get numb.  I can’t stand myself anymore.  I hate myself like this.

And he said, it’s not your fault.  You should feel no guilt.  No guilt, Laura.  What happened to you this past year is not your fault.  But I should have been stronger, I said.  But I should have been able to handle it better.  No buts or shoulds, Laura. And no guilt.  Just do whatever you need to do to feel better, whatever you need, just do it, he said.

So, first thing, we are working out a schedule where I can get to work three days a week at 8:30 (which I’ve been horrible about for months—getting to work after 10 or 11, very bad for my mental state—and my work that needs to be done) and go to yoga the other two days a week and get to the office around 11:30.  It will be a start at least.  A built in time just for ME. 

I’m still listening to the CD’s by Karly, but I’ve not done the work in the workbook.  The acceptance CD, the second time I listened to it, was a big AHA moment.  I don’t do acceptance.  I deny.  Denial is my happy place, the “Think Happy Stuff” shop says on a t-shirt.  And that is so true of me.  I’ve been in denial my whole life.  About lots & lots.  And I can’t accept the bad stuff, or the good stuff.  I guess there’s magical thinking in there, and a lot of other psychological issues I ought to pay $150 an hour to get figured out.  But anyway, I realized that simply working on acceptance might be a HUGE deal for me, if I can figure out HOW to do it.  I’ve got the workbook by me.  It’s next, after the blog. 

At least it’s February 3rd and the sun is almost still bright at 5 p.m.  Closer and closer every day to spring.  Something to look forward to.

Sick of being sick

Sunday afternoon I felt the beginnings of a cold, but pushed it aside & went to yoga anyway, hoping to sweat it out.

Yeah, that didn’t work.

Monday I felt pretty crummy.  And I felt wrung out & sore & tired.  By Tuesday I was really feeling sick, by Wednesday I also had pink eye (it’s going around like crazy, kids & adults alike), and today I’m coughing and more congested but also have a dried out nose because of my nightly dose of Mucinex.

Needless to say, my new found love of yoga has been put on hold.  I’ve also been comforting myself with comfort food, because it’s the only thing I have to make me feel better that doesn’t require any energy.  Which I have none of (or, for preposition nazi’s, “Of which I have none.”)

My house is a mess, laundry is piled up, I’m behind at work, the kids’ both need baths, and I have nothing left to give any body.  My husband is working hard at work, and studying for his CFP test which he takes in March (that’s an extra 20 hours work a week right now).  So he’s not able to pick up much slack.

My mom came & got Luke today so at least he’s going to get proper attention (he’s been sick, too… he came with me to the office yesterday afternoon, & was such a trooper).  Mom retired last week (YAY!!) so she is keeping him tonight & bringing him home tomorrow afternoon.  Thankfully Sophie is doing OK, but now that I’ve typed that I’m sure she’ll come down with something.

So.  Healthy life interrupted.  But it’s only temporary.  I will eventually feel better.  I will eventually find the right track & get back on it, come hell or high water.

Until then, I’m going to pick up my daughter, head home, bemoan my disaster of a kitchen, make myself a cup of hot tea, and lay down & rest.  It’s the best I can do.  For now.

Yoga (175.0)

First, read this when you can. It speaks to me so deeply & helps me understand that what happened to me in 2009-2010 (the 30 pound weight gain) does not mean there's something wrong with me or I'm a failure or I can't get fit & healthy again. It helps to read it from someone else who's been there & writes books & "has it all together."

I wanted to write quickly about yoga. I've taken yoga off & on over the past 10 years, so I know most of the terms & positioning--enough that I'm not a total newbie anyway. But it's been quite a while and I'm packing extra pounds, so I didn't know how I'd do.

Saturday morning was super hard. This is hot yoga, which (if you're not familiar with this) means the studio is 101 degrees. You start sweating before you even move. It's a shock at first, then you get used to it--sort of. It sounds odd, but it is very cleansing for the body. And humbling. You can't wear heavy clothes in there to cover up any body fat, or you'll be way too hot. I knew in advance what to wear & what to expect from the heat.

I didn't know if I'd be able to do the whole 90 minutes or not. I sort of did. I stayed the whole time, but after about an hour we started warrior poses & I felt like I was going to throw up. I also felt light headed several times like I was going to pass out. I pushed through when I could, but when it was too much, I just sat or laid down & let it pass, then I got back at it. Another girl did the same thing, so that made me feel better.

Sunday afternoon was better. I only felt like I was going to throw up at the very end of class, & I never felt light headed during class (I think that's a morning exercise thing I have--used to happen to me when I was in my early 20s & sometimes lifted weights in the mornings). I have great balance & know how to keep my core tight to steady myself, so holding strong standing poses made me feel great. The instructor was very helpful too, on hints to improve each pose.

It was only two days of yoga, and I can't wait to go back for more. I almost started crying yesterday afternoon, when we were holding a pose a long time & it was a struggle to stay in position, but be damned if I was going to fall out of it. So I didn't. And it pushed me mentally more than anything. Tears started to well, I let them come for a brief second, then I pushed them back down. I wasn't in the mood for crying, but subconsciously I guess I needed to.

I'm hoping to run this afternoon...it's going to be 40 degrees today! A cloudy 40, but nonetheless, hopefully I'll be outside for about 45 minutes before picking up the kids.

Last week I exercised 6 days. I'm down 4 pounds since last Tuesday's rock bottom bottom. And look how much I've blogged! :D

My food was better, not perfect. I still have sugar issues--going to for a while, as I work through Karly Pitman's CD's and workbook. But I'm definitely more mindful of what I put in my shopping cart & my mouth. And I'm working on acceptance, self-care, and making time for exercise.



I have to replace the sugar endorphins with something. A good solid sweat seems to be my best option.

Sunday

Since Tuesday I've exercised 4 times-- two days of 30 minutes treadmill, one day 60 minutes treadmill, and yesterday 90 minute hot yoga class. Today I'm going to another yoga class at 3 pm.

Sundays I am usually a slug. I believe in God's commandment to rest--it's good to rest. But it's not helpful for me to be a lazy sloth of a human being and then feel worse at night and on Monday morning. So I'm trying something new today and hope it helps.

One of the CDs by Karly talks about being a highly sensitive person. I've known a long time I am highly sensitive. To other people's emotions, to others' needs, to sounds and smells and light, to group dynamics, to weather changes, even to the oppression of the intense negative energy in a WalMart. (I know this might sound weird--but if you're sensitive it might sound very familiar.)

I haven't heard someone talk about sensitivity like Karly has. It's so helpful to know I'm not alone.

More soon. I'm off to my yoga class.

What's next...

No weight today. Had Mexican with my friend Debra last night--we did well and split an order and didn't even finish the chip basket. I think I had like 8 or 9 chips. One chicken enchilada. And no margarita! That was the test, right there.

So, I was really bloated this morning and didn't feel the sadistic pull of the scale. So I skipped it.

Another snow day and day off school today. So tired of this white stuff. I didn't have a bad morning--it was quiet and lazy, which was nice.

Oh! And last night (Wednesday) I got home around 7:50 with the kids after their weekly church group program, and I got on the treadmill. I told the kids to get dressed for bed, got their snacks out, and told everyone I'd be on the TM for 35 minutes and would be unavailable. I walked only, but enough to sweat. I watched my show while walking so I didn't have the guilt with the pleasure. I was done at 8:50, and it felt amazing to have DONE IT instead of just talk or think about it. A short simple walk but what a payoff.

But today, I was more slothful. I had a couple hours computer work to do at home then took the kids with me to the office around 3 pm. I did eat some cookies this afternoon. It wasn't a binge, but it was sugar.

Tonight I left the office at 6 pm. Mark took the kids home and I got my hair cut and ran to Target. Nothing like getting your hair did to feel better. It helped to have a couple hours alone.

Which sort if segues to my title today. I'm going to do something different with my exercise. I've printed the schedule, outlined some times that will work, found some workout clothes, and dragged my old mat and bag out from under the bed.

Yoga. There's a hot yoga place between Luke's daycare and my office. I could run to it from work, it's that close. The class times aren't great, but I'm going to make some work. They are 90 minutes long!! I am planning on a class this weekend and then figuring out a schedule with Mark next week. I think he'll work with me on the business hours classes if I do my work at other times. Yoga is great for runners. The studio moved to this location about a year ago. It's been singing a siren song to me ever since. I took classes from them years ago, and I know the original studio owner (she sold the place a while back, but she still teaches). The parking lot is always full and they have 5 or 6 classes a day, and 3 classes each weekend day. So it's a good place.

With luck I'll be starting a yoga practice very soon.

Athlete Inside (176.6)

I made it to the gym yesterday. I left work at 3:10, which is crazy early (I had an appointment at 4:15 so I had to workout early), but I was NOT not going to workout yesterday. My husband is my boss. He knows what's going on with me. He wants me to work out as much as I want to work out. (& yes, I know how very fortunate & blessed I am to have his support.)

I only had 35 minutes. I hit the treadmill. I walked a few minutes to warm up, cranked up Third Day's album "Move" on my iPod, and started running. It's amazing what good music can do in your head to make your body move. This Third Day album has some rockin' tunes, & the message is meaningful, too.

I ran & ran & ran. I walked when I needed to, but mostly I ran.

I could feel her--that inner athlete fighting & screaming & begging to get out.

"I am a runner," she said. "Why have you left me in here for so long? I've missed you," she said. And then she finished off with "Now, get your ass moving & keep it moving so I don't have to beat the crap out of you."

I will be having a date with her again soon.

I finished with 3 minutes of abs & then stretching. I walked out of the gym feeling like I could conquer the world. The feeling pretty much kept me sane the rest of the night. I ate a good dinner. I didn't binge last night. I lost 2.4 pounds this morning.

All because of one 35 minute workout. Which happened because I blogged about it, & said I would.

That workout is the first of many, many, many more to come.

(I'm going to try the weight in the title thing again. We'll see how it goes. I think it helps when I'm losing, though. Accountability & all that. .

I changed the look of the blog a bit. Rearranged some elements on the side; updated my profile. I moved my blog history to the top....coincidence I blogged the most in 2008 AND was the fittest in my life? I. think. not.)

Rock bottom... bottom

Apparently rock bottom was, in fact, not the bottom.

Friday night we went out with a group of friends & had a great time. I was feeling that Friday "high" the Western world gets the day before the weekend. I've felt down so much lately, & feeling UP was heady. We went to a local pizza place, & I had two drinks, & felt giddy. I laughed & had fun. I ate breadsticks & pizza, just like everyone else.

The next day, I felt rotten. I ate too much all day Saturday, and felt the sugar affects in my mood & my bloated body. And the SAD impact was horrible.

Saturday night we took the kids to play indoor golf, & my size 16 jeans weren't loose. They fit. I'd just washed & dried them, so they were doing that "fresh from the dryer, tighter than usual" thing, but still. I started crying & had to stop myself because we were getting ready to leave. I felt horrible all night, but had to make myself have fun because it was our family time. And I love, love, love my husband & my kids. But I don't love myself right now. So I was faking it a good part of the night.

Sunday I could not get out of bed. Sunday morning I felt crushed under the weight (no pun intended) of it all.

I teach Sunday School to the 2 & 3 year olds (which I love doing--they are precious, fun kiddos) and I couldn't make myself get out of bed to do something I love & see children I love.

I wanted to crawl in a hole & stay there until... until.... well, I guess until the sun came out or I melted away to next to nothing. I guess I didn't think about the "until" very much. I just wanted a deep dark hole to crawl in and stay in.

So I did. My husband let me stay home Sunday morning & taught my class for me. Whether or not this was love or enabling, I don't know. But he knows me well enough to know when I say I can't, I can't.

I stayed in bed most of the day. I slept, I watched TV. I ate. I came out in the evening to hang out with Mark & the kids & watch football & eat dinner from Papa Johns (more breadsticks, more pizza).

Then Monday was MLK Day & the stock market was closed, so we stayed home from work. I felt better yesterday morning. I didn't need a hole to crawl in at least. I slept late, but when I got up I was productive. I did laundry & cleaned the kitchen. I also got a bath & walked on the treadmill for 30 minutes, and stretched & did some crunches. Then we took the kids to the children's museum, and we all had fun together. I ate better. No pizza, ha. I wasn't perfect but I did keep the junk food out at least.

Last night I did more laundry (it. never. ends.) and watched some TV. I cleaned out my workout clothes drawer & packed away my size Mediums to make room for my size Larges. I got my weights out from under the bed & did some arm work. I haven't done that in ages. It felt good. At least it was SOMETHING.

This morning, I thought I better weigh because I hadn't in a while. I had already had my coffee & breakfast, and I normally only weigh "empty" (which I know Vickie has a strong opinion against, & I'm sure she's right--empty doesn't paint the real picture for most of Us).

So I wasn't empty. But I sure didn't eat an 8 pound breakfast.

I weighed 179.0

That, ladies, is the precipice for me. 180 is beyond what I can wrap my head around. It's The Weight that I hit when I'd been on prozac in my mid-twenties & gained 40 pounds in one year--the weight that made me miserable for a decade. The weight that I swore I'd never see again.

And now I'm one freaking pound away from it.

I felt so helpless & hopeless this morning. More "why am I like this?" and "how am I ever going to lose this weight?" and "where's that hole I can crawl back into?"

But, it does help to write out the past four days & SEE what I ate & how I behaved. So I can SEE the WHY behind 179 pounds.

It's not pretty. No wonder I gained weight. TV, Pizza, Sloth. That would put weight on Twiggy.

So. I have no idea where that leaves me, other than I'm not giving up. I need to go to the thrift store & buy some size 14 clothes. I have nothing to wear, but I'm not spending a lot of money on clothing I don't plan to be in for long. I need to stop watching so darn much TV (I'm hooked on Battlestar Gallactica on Netflix Ondemand--it's like a novel you can't put down). I need to find the "magic" from 2007 that gave me the consistency I needed to lose 50 pounds in 7 months. I need to get my head out of this self-inflicted hole in the ground & DO something about this.

Today, that means blogging. And hopefully going to the gym at 3 p.m. today. Then, finding the next step & the next & the next.

I'll be here again soon. It's my lifeline right now. I've tied a knot & I'm holding on. I don't want to fall any further.

Untitled Thursday

I've been listening to the CD's I got from Karly Randolph Pitman, that I received as part of her Growing Human Kindness program. Holy cow. Powerful stuff. I'm listening in the car & not getting to do all the workbook exercises yet. I'm learning more about my sugar addiction and food issues than I ever have.

I feel like I've had the "SHOULD" information on how to lose weight for years--what I should be doing to get healthy & stop bingeing. With her program, I fee like I'm finally getting some of the answers to why I haven't been able to Just Do It.

It's late & I don't have much time, so I won't go into the details right now. But I will tell you that I've learned that when I was running, I wasn't just burning calories and keeping my weight off. I was filling a deep need I have for many things--serotonin, self-love, and me-time, for starters. When I stopped running, my needs didn't go away; I just started taking care of them with food again.

I guess this might not be revolutionary on the surface. What IS revolutionary, for me, is hearing someone put into words the EXACT things I say to myself & think to myself every day.

Just this morning, I was lying on my bathroom floor, crying & having a mini-breakdown (yeah, my SAD is in high gear right now) and I kept saying to myself, "why am I so broken? why can't I fix this? why do I have to feel like this?" A couple of hours later, after I'd pulled myself together & gotten ready for work, I was in the car listening to her CD, and she used the words "broken, fixed, & why" over & over in the same context I was feeling them this morning--and she had remarkable things to say about WHY I'M NOT BROKEN. I can't really express it clearly. But it was powerful. And I want to learn more.

She also talks about why sugar cravings build & build until they are unstoppable. Which is what happened to me last night. I've been doing well. Weighed 171.8 yesterday morning. Staying away from junk food. Not eating at night. Then last night, after several unmet needs got pushed down & awful season affective disorder feelings washed over & through me, I just gave in. It was a release. It felt wonderful just to let go.

Then, of course, 15 minutes later I felt remorse & cried & got mad at myself. But thankfully, something's sinking in because I didn't continue to eat in the middle of night, and this morning I went right back to a healthy breakfast. Today my food has been okay, too. And I don't feel the urge to eat sugar. Not at the moment anyway.

And right now, I'm cherishing those moments.

I cannot express how much I need winter to be over. Anybody on the East coast surely feels the same, only about ten times as much, I'm sure, with all the snow you've gotten. Every day closer to March 1st is a day closer to freedom for me. The sky was still light at 5 p.m. tonight. A sign of better days to come.

Victories

Thank you all for your encouragement. It means so much to me & lifted me up this week.

It's pretty interesting what happens when you stop filling your body with sugar to get numb, and start listening to yourself instead.

Wednesday night I could physically feel the compulsion to EAT after the kids were in bed & the house was quiet & it was just me and the kitchen. I walked from the family room/kitchen with my hot tea & Kindle in hand, into my bedroom, and the compulsion STOPPED. Stopped dead. I had been off sugary junk for two days, so I didn't feel a sugar craving from just having eaten sugar. It was a Pavlov's response craving, a conditioned routine. I knew this happened already--have even blogged about it--but I hadn't *felt it* in my bones before. The startling change that happened when I got into my bed with my tea and book--the need to eat was just gone.

Then last night, I had PMS really bad. It was Luke's gymnastics night, so we got home at 7 p.m. & I still needed to cook dinner & do the usual routine. I was grouchy & tired. I didn't get to workout like I'd planned to after work. I felt crummy. Normally I'd have grabbed some kind of sugary food or an alcoholic beverage to chill out. But, I thought about the self-care that Karly talks about, and that's what I did instead. I cooked a good healthy meal & sat down & ate it. I did allow myself some frozen cool whip as soon as I finished dinner (which was protein & veggies)--this is sugar, I realize, and I know it's potentially dangerous ground, but it was not ice cream (which is what I really wanted), I ate it with a lot of protein, and it stopped the PMS cravings. I had about 20 grams of sugar. It didn't push me into a binge. I didn't eat anything else all night.

I asked the kids to unload the dishwasher. I asked Mark to help them get ready for bed. I cleaned the dishes but left the rest of the kitchen kind of a mess--I was too tired to clean up any more. I got the kids settled down quickly. Mark was having a bad night too, and he had claimed the bedroom already with his TV show, so I was on the couch in the family room. I knew this could be binge triggering but I sat & listened to myself--I felt no cravings, no pulls for more sugar comfort. I laid down at 9:30 p.m. with my Kindle to read but I just kept my eyes closed & prayed & meditated, and fell asleep.

My husband woke me up at 11:30 p.m. to come to bed, which irritated me because I was really sleeping well, but I didn't eat (which I would have done in the past) and just went to bed & back to sleep.

Sorry for the minute detail--just felt like I wanted to write out how a night went that could have ended in disaster, but didn't.

The Big Victories this week are these:
*Ate breakfast every morning, at home
*Ate healthy snacks at work
*Ate lunch at work, of homemade healthy food--NO fast food or restaurant meals. This is a HUGE deal for me.
*Ate healthy dinners that were low or no carb (and again, no fast food or restaurant meals)
*NO night eating at all. None. Another huge deal.
*Exercised (3 miles walk/run) outside in 32 degree weather, and loved it.
*Wrote everything down--food, feelings, weight.
*Weighed 175.6 on Monday-- weighed 172.6 today.

I've got a list of goals/rewards for myself--both scale & non-scale related--that I am hoping will spur me on.

Have a great weekend. Hopefully I'll be around here more often now. I sure need this. It helps a lot to share.

Rock Bottom

I hit it. On Monday, January 3rd, 2011.

We'd had a wonderful weekend away as a family in Nashville, TN, celebrating the new year downtown & then spending the weekend at the fabulous Opryland Hotel. I couldn't wear my Levi's that I brought with me--how'd they get so tight?--so I was stuck in one pair of jeans & one pair of dress pants that require Spanx pantyhose. I was wearing a coat a lot of the time, so I wasn't really hyper aware of my clothing. I just tried to ignore it. I didn't bother bringing a swim suit for the pool. Mark took the kids swimming while I cleaned up the room on the last day of our stay. I'd planned that before we even left home.

Then Monday morning, when it was time for work, I tried on some dress pants that I'd worn a couple weeks before--I'd been wearing the same stretchy jeans pretty much every day for the few days I worked at the office over the holidays, so I hadn't put on these dress pants for at least 2 weeks--and I could zip them & pull them up, but they looked horrible. And my back fat was BACK, in force. And my shirts didn't cover anything up.

I was desperate. Size 12s are the biggest size I have. But I can't wear my 12s. What do I do?

The unthinkable.

From the dark, untouched and unloved back of the closet, I pulled out "The Before" jeans.

The size 16s that my size 8 body used to prance around in and say "look how big these jeans are! Wow, I can't believe I used to wear these humongous things." Those jeans.

They fit. Well, they are big on me, but not that big. They are comfortable on my body, but they made me sick to my stomach.

I walked around all day Monday in a fog. A post-vacation fog, because I'd had two really great weeks with my kids and husband, and a depressed "how did I let this happen to ME?" fog.

Before the New Year I had already realized I was in big trouble & I needed to DO something for real this time. We went to see "True Grit" the Tuesday before Christmas, and there is a scene where Jeff Bridges as Rooster Cogburn is passed out on a cot in the backroom of a Chinese man's shop. Mattie Ross comes in to get Rooster to help her avenge her father's murder, but Rooster is worthless, hungover from his alcohol binge the night before. She's disgusted with him, tells him she'd believed all the stories of his true grit, but all he showed her was what a drunkard he was.

That scene, for some God given reason, hit me in the gut--I am Rooster Cogburn.

Oh, there's talk that I'm a half-marathon runner & I lost 55 pounds a few years ago, and I am an inspiration to many women just like me. I play with my kids in pools & the backyard, and I'm comfortable and happy in social situations. My husband thinks I'm sexy and I love to shop for cute clothes. I'm pretty, normal, and fit in with the fit moms at the pool in the summer time.

But the harsh reality is--I'm a sugar addict. I've been binging on sugar for the past year or so, and it's caught up with me. On more than one occasion I've snapped at my kids because I was deep in the sugar & wanted to stay there, but they insisted on needing my attention so I got angry at them. The day I yelled at Sophie for something stupid, and made her upset for two hours while I slept in my bedroom because I was "tired" but I was really sleeping off a sugar coma--that day was the tipping point. I didn't know it was the tipping point, because I hadn't seen "True Grit" yet.

But when I saw that scene in the movie just a few days after my sugar-rage, I knew deep in my bones I have a serious problem.

I've danced around this before. The Potatoes Not Prozac book. The Crack the Fat Loss Code diet. SouthBeach. Atkins. Any time I eat like those diets say to eat, I feel better. I look better. I lose weight.

Before New Year's weekend, I searched online for something else. Something that could help me FIX what's wrong with me, not just another diet.

I found this book online & downloaded it so I can read it on my Kindle. I also ordered her workbook & CD's on Becoming Binge Free. I found Jill's name (of the Sassy Pear) in the Introduction of the workbook, as a friend & fellow blogger of the author, so I knew I must be on the right track, 'cause Jill & I are like peas & carrots. :-)

And since Monday I've been journaling my food, my weight, my emotions. I've been eating sugar free since Monday night. I'm eating some fruit, some carbs, but I'm being very careful to watch how the carbs make me feel. Do they create sugar cravings after I eat them? So far I'm doing OK.

And I walked/ran outside yesterday for the first time since my Dad's funeral. It was brisk and the sun was setting in a blue sky, and when I ran, I felt free.

I know this isn't a GO PERFECT OR GO HOME deal. I'm going to fail. But I will just start again.

It's January. Gosh darn it, there's a reason people make resolutions & feel like there's a clean slate at the beginning of the year. Because December sucks the life out of you, that's why. If you can't declare New Life in January, you might as well lay down & die with the dried out Christmas trees.

I'm not lying down to die. Nope. I'm back on the horse, yet again. One more time. Maybe it will stick this time a little longer than the last. I hope so. I'm ready to get the old new me back again.

December is HARD

This has been an extremely rough month.

My SAD has kicked in, despite the 1200 mg of calcium/day & (semi) regular use of my SAD light at work. My hormones are also crazy--I get majorly weepy & down for days at a time, usually a couple of times a month. Stinkin' hormones.

I know that I'm obviously grieving my Dad's death, too. Even though I didn't spend many Christmases with him the past 10 years, this time of year is still really hard.

I have plenty of good and joyful times, especially with the kids. But I've had lots & lots of break down & sob moments, out of nowhere usually.

And my weight is doing the opposite of what I want it to. Ha, I talk about it like it's something out of my control. Like my scale or my body has a mind of its own.

It feels that way, a lot of times. Like in the early days of my blog, when I complained how I had no idea WHY I do the things I do. I don't want to eat cookies at 2 am, but I do. I don't want to eat ice cream when I'm not hungry, but I do.

I joined Weight Watchers a couple of weeks ago, trying to force myself to get on a plan. And I got on a plan. For a week. Then I fell off. Now I'm back on.

It's not sticking yet, but I'm not giving up. I walked on the treadmill tonight for the first time in ages. I even was able to jog for 2 minutes straight at 5.5 mph (did this several times). I did 4 miles in 62 minutes. That is slow for me (well, the thinner me) but it's better than 0 miles in 0 minutes.

I'm not giving up. I don't know why I do the things I do when I don't want to do them. Neither did the Apostle Paul. He talks about this exact thing in the Bible. He didn't give up, & he didn't beat himself up & call himself a loser or hate himself over his affliction. I guess I shouldn't either.

The rest of the month is going to hopefully be OK. The big stuff is done--our Christmas cards are out (I sent out almost 200), our office open house is over & was a success, our client gifts have been ordered & delivered, two family Christmases are done, gifts are all bought, and I'm off work starting this afternoon until after Christmas.

I still have to wrap all the kids' and Mark's gifts, but I'm hoping to get a lot of that done tomorrow when Mom takes the kids to her house for the night. And we have Christmas eve at church (Sophie & I are singing in the choir) and Christmas day at Mark's sister's house.

The next time I post will probably be in 2011. Here's praying it's a better year all around.

A very Merry Christmas & Happy New Year to you & your family!!!

Thank you all for your kindnesses and for sticking with my blog this year. A girl couldn't ask for better cyber friends than all of YOU.

December 1st, Not January 2nd

So.... I'm still alive. It's been crazy around here-- just like your life, I'm sure. I've been sick, the kids have been sick, we hosted Thanksgiving, and it's fourth quarter. Whew! Lots & lots & lots going on.

I had one great workout week at the gym the week of 11/15, and then NADA. Between the holiday and health issues (I've had a killer virus for 7 days now, and Luke is still sick too) I haven't been back.

But. I had to buy size 12 clothes at JC Penney (luckily BIG sales on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving) so I had something to wear for the colder weather. And it's been a big eye opener for me. I don't want to be a size 12. More than that, I don't want to be a size 14.

After Thanksgiving I weighed 172 pounds. UGH! That's way way way more than I thought I'd be again. It can't go any farther than that. It just can't.

So I'm trying again. I'm really, really trying. I hate the word TRY, though. It inherently has failure baked in. Like Yoda, I believe in DO or DO NOT... there is no TRY. But regardless of the word I use for it, I'm making the mental effort again.

I just don't want to be one of those people who start a diet or exercise program on January 2nd. Because that's also laden with failure-vibes.

I want to be a regular at the gym the entire month of December. Or if not the gym, on my treadmill at home (yeah, um, we have a treadmill for the first time ever & what do I do? I gain 20 pounds in a year).

So that's what's up with me. Going into the busiest time of the year, & I'm hoping to get back in the gym & start eating right again.

I'm watching The Biggest Loser episodes online for inspiration. Those people are amazing.

I hope you all had a happy Thanksgiving & have a joy-filled holiday season.

Good week

I'm doing ok this week. I joined a cheap gym last week, Fitness 19. Have you heard of this chain of gyms? I paid a one time joining fee and then pay $9 a month with no contract. And it's a great facility. No frills, but all the equipment and nice and bright and new.

My focus is weight lifting. I need to build muscle and I like being strong. I've missed my muscles! I went once last week, on Friday when I joined. This week I went 3 times and did weights (Monday I also did 2 miles on the treadmill), about 30 minutes of weights and 10 minutes of TM each time to warm up. Also stretching after for a few minutes. I got one more day in of 30 minutes run/walking. Four days of sweating. Not bad.

And I'm already feeling stronger.

I had one really great night of saying no to night eating, and I felt great the next morning. Next time I want a bowl of cereal at 11 pm, I'm going to remember that feeling. The rest of my nights were half ok and half horrible. I'm shooting for more good than bad nights next week.

Tomorrow we are going to dad's house to start packing his stuff. Not going to be fun, but it will be okay. It's already been 6 weeks since he died. Hard to believe it's gone by so fast.

Kids are great. Luke turned 5 last Saturday. He had a fun party. Sophie is doing so well in school. We keep the bad foods out of her body, she stays migraine free. It's amazing.

We are hosting Mark's family for turkey day, which will be work but fun. He's got a great family.

Next week, my goal is weights and cardio, 3 times each.

I don't know why I used "great" so much in this post. Tired and lazy tonight, I guess.

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One small change--a success. One big change--in the works.

I've been wanting to post for days, but of course there's been no time. I can't believe how packed my hours are, & how little I get to do for ME.

I'm sure I'm not the only one. Heh.

I made one change last week, as several of you suggested--baby steps. I had been in a horrible habit the last couple months of getting a Starbucks latte every morning on the way to work. This is a horrible habit because it's: (a) expensive, (b) exacerbates my bad habit of not eating breakfast at home, and (c) a lot of unnecessary calories. I get skim milk, but the pumpkin spice is not sugar free and a grande has over 200 calories.

My sister equated the cost of my almost-$5 a day latte habit with smoking a pack of cigarettes every day, which actually made me feel better about the cost. There are millions of people who don't think twice about spending $35 a week on cigarettes. Why should I feel guilty about spending that on my guilty pleasure?

But it was also just as addictive as cigarettes (almost anyway). I'd tried to stop myself going every day several times, but somehow my car just found its way in the drive-thru.

So last week, I decided I'd eat breakfast at home every morning, & I'd brew a second cup of coffee to take with me in the car to work (I have a one-cup at a time coffee maker, since I'm the only coffee drinker in my house--I LOVE my Keurig). And I did it. I had a latte on Friday, which is my plan now, to have one a week. And my breakfast has been a toasted English muffin, egg in the microwave, & a slice of cheese...tasty, quick & easy, with protein & enough fat to be very filling.

The habit is sticking so far.

My next baby-step item to tackle is a biggie--no night eating. I'm still plagued by that Pavlov's response of "it's late, I'm tired & feeling down, I'll eat a bowl of cereal and a few cookies." It's usually not a binge, but 500-600 calories at 11 pm every single night is going to add pounds to my body, and undo any good I've accomplished during the day.

I managed to drink hot tea last night while doing laundry & watching election returns with Mark. I still wasn't asleep at midnight, but I stayed in bed and gritted my teeth when the urge came. But, then at 2:30 am, when insomnia hit (which doesn't happen often, but it does happen occasionally), I hit the pantry. It was too late to take a xanax--even .25 mg puts me out for hours. So I filled up on sleep-inducing carbs.

I felt awful when I woke up this morning. That sand paper in the mouth, puffy fingers, achy belly yuckiness that always, always follows sleeping after eating. I don't know why this is such a hard habit to break.

But I KNOW it's breakable. Many of you have done it. I've done it before. It's going to take some time for it to stick (21 days minimum, right?), and some practice on using other things to substitute for food.

No exercise for over a week. I carried my gym bag in & out of the office last week three times, and not once had time to go running/walking. I brought it in yesterday--same deal. I'm hoping today will break that streak. The park where I usually run was calling my name as I drove by it this morning.

I am signing up today for the Indianapolis Mini Marathon next May. It's the 100 year anniversary of the 500 race, so it should be a cool year to run the Mini. It will be my 6th half marathon. Maybe my 7th, if I decide to also run Evansville's SIC half marathon in April. The only way I run consistently is to train for races. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Vickie, no Halloween party this year. Mark was out of town on business over Halloween. The kids missed him, but we went trick or treating with my sister & niece, so it was OK. I'm glad we didn't have to dress up. Halloween costumes for adults run really small. I'd never have fit into anything this year.

Remember who you are

In high school I attended a Senior honors banquet before graduation, and there was a speaker who gave one of the only memorable speeches I've heard at that sort of thing. What has stuck with me over 20 years is his main point--remember who you are. I can't remember all his examples, but I remember the sentiment.

Yesterday you all made me feel for the first time in a long time like I really could get back to my fit, thin self. All this year, I've been on this slippery slope that has seemed hopeless and endless. You've had front row seats for the train wreck that was my life at times. And yet you all see in me what I obviously haven't been able to see in myself.

The me I am meant to be. The me I worked hard to create. The me I can still be.

I just need to remember that me, and I know I can get her back.

Remember who you are.

In my dark times, I remember the me I don't want to be, the obese me I started to become after only two years of marriage and six months on prozac (which causes some people to gain weight unexplainedly, but my doctor didn't know that in 1997), and I feel the helplessness wash over me.

Those 13 years of obesity pull and tug and drag me down sometimes. Like at night, when I'm all alone in our kitchen/family room (this is the real reason for America's obesity epidemic....all our houses are now built with the kitchen and family rooms combined, so family time = food, and tv time = food, and conversation = food, and kitchen = family room). That's when the siren song of cookies and milk and cereal and ice cream and little powdered donuts (sarcasm font--they're for the kids, really they are--sarcasm font) call me to that wretched island of false comfort. The sirens always lead to despair, and a promise that "tomorrow I'll finally get on a plan and I won't eat like this anymore."

I need to remember the me who knows how to get fit & thin, and then remember to forget the me who was obese for 13 years.

I need to remember the me I can be. The me I want to be. And will yet become.

Remember who you are.

2006 all over again

In lots of ways life is much, much easier now--the pain of watching Dad suffer is gone, my sister is back to work today and seems to be keeping it together, the drama is (mostly) gone, and the end of this year-long insanity is very near. We still have the usual estate stuff to do, but I am relatively certain that's going to go smoothly. As long as his wife (yes, he stayed married to her so she could have his VA benefits) stays five hours away & doesn't stir up trouble, we could have a fairly calm ending to 2010.

So why is my Fat Head in 2006 mode? Way back when this blog started, I was in that "I wanna lose weight but I can't make myself stick to a plan. I'm helpless around food. I'm out of control and can't stop myself."

I guess it's because when we're at our weakest points in life, we revert back to what we know. What I know is how to comfort myself with food. And I still need comforting.

But just like in 2006, I'm supremely unhappy with the results of my comforting efforts. My size 12s are tight. My bras are cutting off my circulation. My back fat rolls have returned. I can't wear my dress pumps because my feet have filled with fat just big enough that I get blisters on my heels.

I know what I need to do. And I've been here before. I want to get healthy & thin again. But I can't find the "want to enough" in me yet.

Maybe I'll try to make time to reread my own blog, instead of searching the web for "how to lose weight in your 40s" (which yields nothing helpful).

I have a pile of size 8 fall clothes on the floor of my den. It's killing me to have to pack them away & stuff them under my bed until "one day" I can wear them again.

I looked at one of my favorite Ann Taylor Loft dresses Saturday, and was shocked at how skinny it looked. When I wore that dress, I felt good about myself, but I never felt skinny. Obviously, 2 years and 20 gained-pounds later, I realize I was delusional. I looked great. Just because I wasn't a size 4 or size 6 doesn't mean I wasn't skinny. I was.

I hope I can find my way back into that dress again. Someday very soon.

What's next

The funeral went well. No drama from dad's wife, which was a big relief.

I pretty much feel numb. It's really bizarre. We've been through so much the past year.

I ran the half Sunday and it was wonderful. Kate helped me so much. I'd have walk the last 7 miles without her. As it was, we ran until 10.5ish miles, walked 2.5, then ran the last stretch to the finish. We finished in just under 3 hours. I didn't injure anything and I felt ok the days after.

I'm still amazed by my body, that it can do what I do with it even without proper training. Kate and I were joking about how in 10 years we're gonna look back at these "glory days of our 40s" and long for them.

So we've a ton of stuff to do for dad's estate. That's my area, so it will keep me busy. But that's ok. I'm just praying we don't have anymore drama.

My food was not so great the past week, but I didn't gain much. It's time, though, for me to get back to a plan and start working toward taking care of myself the way I deserve. Again.

Thank you all for your condolences and kind thoughts.




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It's on

I'm running tomorrow. My dear niece in law and friend Kate drove down from Indy for the funeral visitation, and to run the race with me. So I have an accountability partner and I'm not going to bail. It's a good thing.

My running clothes and gear are laid out and ready. Just gotta sleep well and get up on time, and pray nothing falls apart on my body on those 13.1 miles.

Then the hard stuff starts. But at least I'll be able to tell myself I did it, because I can.


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RIP Daddy

My dad passed away this morning, at 6:50 am, the exact same time the sun was rising.

I'd like to think there's some God Poetry in that.

He was really non responsive yesterday, my sister told me last night. I almost went to see him around 11 pm last night, but it had been such a long day & I was just beat so I didn't.

Turns out, that was okay. My uncle Phil went to stay with Dad last night (& the night before). He didn't have to be there--he felt that Dad was very near the end and he wanted to be there. This is the uncle who spent Monday through Friday, every single night, with my Dad for nine straight months. Most nights my Dad wouldn't sleep, & my uncle often only got 2 or 3 hours of sleep before he had to leave for work at 5 a.m. And he wanted to be with my Dad the past two nights, even though he didn't have to be there. My uncle is an amazing man, & a true believer in Christ's sacrificing love poured out for others.

Uncle Phil called me at 5:30 this morning, telling me the nurse said to call the family in because Dad's vitals had gone down dramatically. I got there by 6. He was peaceful, sleeping, non responsive. They say he could hear us. I hope so. Nothing but love surrounded him for those last hours of his life.

My mom (who's been divorced from him for almost 12 years) got to the hospice center just before he passed. Mom told him she was there, that it was okay, to run to the angels. My sister took the oxygen tube from under Dad's nose then (the nurse had asked her to), and my dad took his last breath. I think he may have been waiting for Mom. I don't know for sure, but regardless, he finally let completely go after she spoke to him.

I can't express how hard this is. Wanting his pain to end for so long, so that our pain could end too. Now, he's no longer in pain and has a new body and is completely healed, body & soul. His pain has ended, and ours will too, eventually.

But right now it's crushing me.

Like it's supposed to.

He was a pain in the ass. But he was still my Dad.


The funeral stuff is Sunday & Monday. Lots to do before then. I don't know yet if I'm going to still do the half Sunday or not. It starts at 7; I'll be home by 10:30 at the latest. Have to be at the funeral home at noon. It's gonna be a push if I do the race.

But a huge part of me wants to run the thing, BECAUSE I FREAKING CAN. My body works. It's a gift. I should darn well use it.

I hope I make the right choice Sunday morning.

Thanks to you all for your love & support this past year. It has meant a lot, knowing you are virtually supporting me.

xoxox
L

Hospice and Half Marathon

I've been meaning to blog for a week. Sorry it has been so long.

We moved Dad to a hospice center on Monday. It's a 7 bed facility that's more like a 5 star hotel than anything else. The nurses are the best at helping people in the last weeks of their lives, with pain management and rest.

It wasn't easy but it went ok. He has been in his wheelchair 24/7 for the past year. Yesterday they moved him in a gurney on an ambulance and put him in a big comfy hospital air bed at the center. No option of his wheelchair anymore. The nurses are managing his meds, and he's sleeping finally. Dad has not slept a real nights sleep in 2 plus months. The fear of not waking up kept him awake and kept him from resting fully. But even he can't resist the medication from the hospice nurses.

Hopefully his peace will be our peace. I already feel a big relief, knowing his needs are being taken care of without us needing to be there. He isn't eating any more, since this weekend. He will probably sleep more than anything now. Since he can't use his computer anymore, that's what he needs to do anyway.

It's only been 2 days, not even 2 full days, so we'll see how it goes. But there's no doubt we are near the end. He still has a lot of body mass and his vitals are good, even though he's down to 1/3 of one lung functioning, so he will be with us a while longer, they think.

The half marathon is Sunday. I've not trained properly but I have increased my miles the past few weeks. And with cooler temps it's much easier to run longer distances. I don't plan to finish faster than 2:45, maybe 3 hours. It's going to be a gorgeous day Sunday, so I'm just planning to enjoy the journey of 13.1 miles.

We're all healthy, so that's helpful.

The year is flying to a close, isn't it? Luke will be 5 in a month. It's hard to believe.


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Cooking, eating, running

I know this isn't a big deal for a lot of you. But it is for this overwhelmed working mom.

I didn't eat restaurant food once this week. I did rely on several frozen meals and frozen veggies, but anything is better than drive-thru. No fast food for me!!

I have been cooking, too. I rediscovered Roni's food blog greenlitebites.com, and I am in love. I have made a lot of her recipes the past few weeks, and not one has been a dud. The raspberry stuffed peaches are divine. I just had the chick pea/cilantro/feta salad, and it was fabulous.

There are so many great things about her recipes. Not too many ingredients. Serving size for 4 or less (I don't need a lot of leftovers). Quick and easy to prepare. Nutritional data included. Comments from readers with their tips and tricks. And they are yummy and healthy.

I don't know why she doesn't have a cookbook yet. I just hope she never stops writing new recipes.

I've run 3 times this week-- yay! Long run of 7 miles planned for tomorrow. Hopefully I can do it.

It's been a good week.

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Jinx....not

I don't want to jinx myself, but I'm doing OK on the food front. I wasn't, and I'd gained some more, but I've been doing better and I feel better. The pounds are creeping down. I don't feel food crazy.

But I hate to even whisper about doing well, because of the jinx factor. It's been inevitable lately...I blog about how well things are going, and the next day I fall apart.

I just want to be consistent. Consistency was key in 2007 and 2008. That's what I need to find again.

I haven't been running according to my plan for the 10/10/10 half marathon. It's so frustrating. I have a treadmill so there's no excuse other than at the end of the day after I get home with the kids, I'm spent and have no energy to even put my running shoes on (by far the hardest part of working out is just getting dressed for it). I did 4.25 miles on Saturday morning, but that was it last week. So far this week I've done 0 miles.

Mark left for Philadelphia for work last Friday. He gets home late tonight. Sophie had a dizzy spell and a stomach virus (vomiting for 12 hours, poor kid) on Saturday, and the dizzy hasn't left yet. She missed school yesterday and today. It's her first spell since April, and it's not horrible. She can walk and do things, she just can't move quickly or bend down, and school is too much of a challenge for her. She can't think if her head is spinning inside. I think orange juice may have helped set this one off; it's the only migraine trigger she had more of in the days prior to the migraine. She's not had problems with it before, but she's not a big OJ drinker. That plus a virus plus a weather change on Saturday & Sunday must have been enough. I just don't know why it takes so long for them to go away, even with migraine abortive meds.

Dad is slowly declining. He's having more trouble breathing, is having more pain, is having more trouble moving his fingers to use his joystick mouse to communicate. We are hoping the hospice nurse allows him to go to the hospice center soon. I'm praying every day his suffering, and ours, ends sooner than later.

All in all, I'm doing OK. I just hope the universe doesn't hunt me down & put a pox on me for uttering that out loud.

I'm here

So sorry. It's been very busy with work, kids, dad drama, funerals (two in 4 days for men from church), and trying to just keep it together.

No slowing down over the next week or so, so no real update for a while.

But I'm here. Same stuff, endless days of it.

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Run Laura Run

Do you all know that movie, "Run Lola Run"? It's a foreign movie that stars the girl who plays Jason Bourne's girlfriend. It's been ages since I've seen it, and I couldn't tell you the plot, but I do remember it was super cool.

Well, if my life were a movie this week, I'd call it Run Laura Run.

After my meltdown post last week, I went through another "I can't take it anymore" dealies. Instead of printing a new diet plan, I signed up for a couple of races. I'd been planning on running a half in October but hadn't made it official (read: paid money) yet. And I really like Race for the Cure 5k's (and t-shirts) so I signed up for that one too.

I've run 3 times since Monday. I use the term run with qualifiers--walk a few minutes, run a few minutes, repeat.

But! Tonight I actually Ran, for really reals. It was cooler than any weather I've run in since January. There was no sun, since it was almost 8. And I guess the couple times a week I have been running/walking is starting to make a difference.

So I headed out and ran 12 minute miles, only walking to cross traffic and a small break at mile two. I did 30 minutes, 2.5 miles, because that's all I had time for. But it was the best 2.5 miles I've had in months.

I realized the other day that any time I post that I can't take it and I'm starting a new plan, I've screwed it up a few days later. Conversely, I post that my life is shit, and I get my shit together. What the heck is that about? Guess I better end this with "blah blah I can't take this anymore blah."

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Not great. Same old story!

I feel like a broken record lately, singing the same tired refrain. I'm not happy with the way things are, I try to change, I fail, I try again, I fail, I try again, blah blah blah.

So the latest attempt lasted all of three days. I'm back in the "life's not changing any time soon, so learn to live with who you are now and change later." Honestly, is being a size 12 the end of the world?

No. But when you were almost a 6 two years ago, it sucks.

More than once the thought has crossed my mind that getting to a toned and fit 146 in the summer of 2008 was a horrible thing. I was in the neighborhood of that weight for a few months, and they were glorious. I loved my body, as much as I could love a still imperfect body, and I felt confident and kick ass. I had great clothes. I looked fabulous in pictures and my hairstylist's mirror.

But I remember the summer of 2007 when I went from a 14 to a 12, and wore a belt for the first time in years and bought a bathing suit. And felt great about how I was shaping up. I was more toned then, but if I still had the clothes from 2007 (I gave them away in 2008--dumb move) I know they'd fit.

Now, I have the old mind set of The Me from our original Amazon blog days in 2006. I just can't get it together, can't string enough days together to get some momentum. When I think I can finally do it, life comes up and bitch slaps me back down.

It's really quite annoying.

But. Life moves on. I bought size 12s. I can pass for "average" still. Not obese, "just" overweight. I can still run (and did, yesterday, 3 miles in 40 minutes), albeit only a few minutes at a time. I'm not buying boxes of powdered donuts and eating them all in one night. It could be worse.

I fully expect that, eventually, I WILL conquer this weight battle again. Some days are better than others. The weather changing for the cooler will make a big difference in my ability and desire to run/walk. When my dad passes away and I've gone through the proper therapy, I will have space in my head to think about myself again.

For now, things are too messy. Joy is fleeting. My dad's the one with ALS, but the rest of us live with a cancer of pain and guilt and sorrow and fear that's taken deep roots over the past year. And it's not taking our lives, but it's draining the life out of us nonetheless.

Dad's 3rd week in the nursing home is not going well. The first 2 weeks he had lots of family all the time, except at night. My sister's trying to pull away a bit, spending fewer hours and letting the staff take care of more of his needs. Well, dad doesn't like it--who would?--and he's making things more difficult for everyone.

I had a big project for church last week and didn't have time to see him for the whole week. I finally made it last night and he was horrible to me. As in, I left the nursing home sobbing. I called my sister and she's a great help because she understands him better than I do. He's angry and hates the place. He needs someone to blame for being there, and I expected it to be me. I just didn't know what form the blame would come in or when. I wasn't prepared. If it weren't for my faith in God I don't know if I'd go back to see him. I need heaven's power of forgiveness.

I told him I had to leave (it was 7:45 pm, I'd been there almost 90 minutes), hugged his shoulders goodbye, said I love you--and he shook his head no. As in, no you don't love me. I questioned him several times and it's what he meant. My uncle was there too, so he witnessed it. It was devastating. I didn't know how to respond. You can't have a conversation with him. It takes 30 minutes for him to type one short sentence. I told him he really didn't want to go there, what if he died and that's the last thing he says to me. I said it's not my fault you're here. He'd already typed "I hate this place" so I knew where his mind was. I said to type whatever his grievance was with me, and Crystal could read it to me the next day. I said more, but that's the gist. I left at 8 pm and cried my eyes out all the way home.

My sister said he does whatever he has to to make people stay with him. He sure did it the hard way with me. My sister and two uncles laid into him. He texted me an apology. I'll go see him in a few days. Who knows what awaits next time.

There's so much more to all this but you've gotten enough for one post. You're all so great to stick with me. It seems like it's never gonna end. But it has to eventually, right? This is only temporary. I keep telling myself that. But lately I'm having a hard time believing it.


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Day 1. Again.

Thank you all so much for your supportive & kind words. You gave me exactly what I needed. What awesome, amazing friends you all are.

The rest of this week has continued to go well for Dad, and for my sister. We have a new hospice nurse (because we moved from one county to another, and the nurses don't cross counties because of the miles involved) and this nurse (who is a man) has experience with ALS patients. He's really been a God send, because he knows more about what will make Dad comfortable and what can help deal with his body's changing needs. The nurse told my sister yesterday that the bottom half of Dad's lungs are no longer working, and he'll be surprised if Dad makes it another 3 months.

The nursing director at the nursing home said they've had ALS patients before, but they never get to this advanced stage--they die before they get this bad. But, I think because Dad has lived in his wheelchair for the past 10 months--always in a semi-vertical position--he's been able to continue breathing because there hasn't been pressure on his lungs. ALS patients usually die because of respiratory failure; when Dad is reclined in his wheelchair all the way back, he can't breathe. His lungs will fail completely, eventually, regardless of whether he's horizontal or vertical. It sounds like such an awful way to die. Knowing Dad, he's going to make it as difficult as possible for himself & for us.

But. Things are letting up a bit with him, I guess. At least for now.

Yesterday I declared I'VE HAD IT, once again. I made up my mind, again, to get back on a plan, again. So I went grocery shopping last night and bought the foods I need to do the Wendy Chant plan, only I'm going to try her new one "Conquer the Fat Loss Code." It doesn't have that awful carb deplete week. The last 3 weeks are tougher than the first 5 weeks. This first week has enough carbs that it doesn't make you want to collapse from carb fatigue (if you know her plan.....the first 2 weeks are -- 2 carb downs, 1 carb up, 2 carb downs, 1 carb up, & 1 baseline). I'm sure I won't drop 5 pounds in one week like I would on the "Crack the Fat Loss Code" plan, but that's OK. I have more than 5 pounds to lose anyway. I weighed a mushy 165.4 this morning.

Day 1 is today--yes, a Friday, which is bizarre, but I am done with the "I'll start tomorrow" BS. I just can't take it anymore.

I hope I remember that feeling tonight at 10 pm when the munchies kick in.

If I can be consistent, start running and doing some weights work, by the time the weather cools off around here I could be back in my size 10s & 8s. That would be a lovely, awesome, fabulous place to be.

Dad's ok. Me? Not so great

So Monday went better than any of us could have dreamed. Dad is adjusting just fine to the nursing home. So far anyway. He's eating more than ever--every meal they've served so far. He's still had family with him all day - it's only day 2 - but no one at night. And my sister doesn't have the stress of running his household and doing everything, and I think that's helping everyone.

I was there yesterday and today until 8 pm. Monday I got there at 2, when he arrived in the wheel chair van the VA sent to pick him up. Today I set up his Internet with a Verizon hotspot wireless thingy. I was there 3 hours tonight. Not planing on visiting tomorrow because Sophie has voice lessons, and I need a night off.

Today I was in a terrible depression. I can't explain it really. I'm glad dad is doing well and not shutting down. But I'm afraid he could live like this for many months or even years. I don't know if I can handle that. It's still so hard to deal with it all.

And I'm angry with him. He's seen what his care needs have done to my sister and uncle. Yet he let them feel guilty and grovel over the nursing home. He was supposed to have 6-12 months. This is month 11 and I see no end in sight. I know he can't control when he dies but I feel like there was an expectation that's now blown out of the water, and he has fought to stay alive, preferring a paralyzed existance to heaven.

Which is a big issue for him, I think. He says he believes, but I think he has just enough faith to slide under the pearly gates. Of course, lots of people are afraid of dying. I don't blame him for that.

I blame him for putting himself first before everyone else for the past year. Like his illness has given him carte blanch to treat so many people like crap, and take advatage, and not give in return.

I feel horribly guilty about felling and thinking all of this.

The past 10 months I've not made myself a prioprity. At all. And now I'm in tight size 12s and dropping to the floor in front of my closet this morning, in tears because I'm terrified I'm going to be the girl who lost a bunch of weight and 3 years later is Fat Again.

I just can't go there. I can't.

I talked with Mark about it today. He said he'd support my time to exercise. He understands and thinks I'm being too hard on myself (I am). But I'm still afraid of the speed train to obesity that I'm on.

It's only been 2 days and my involvement with dad hasn't decreased yet. It will though, hopefully. The emotonal issues that are a big part of my eating problems aren't going anywhere. How am I going to fix myself this time? I don't know yet. I just don't know.


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Tough times ahead

My dad is going to the nursing home on Monday, August 2nd. The hospice chaplain and other family members thought we should tell him as early as possible. I thought we should tell him the day of or the day before at the earliest. But that isn't what they wanted, so we told him last Saturday. At least I got rid of the crushing guilt I had been carrying around, not being able to tell my sister when it was going to happen.

It's going to be a rough week ahead.

"Runnin' Down a Dream"

I ran 3 times last week, just like my half marathon plan told me to.

Tuesday, 3 miles, 40:56
Thursday, 3 miles, 40:30
Sunday, 3 miles, 36:45

I shaved over a minute per mile off my pace. And it was hot & humid Sunday afternoon, and my asthma is still acting up after I run a mile in this heat. (I only use an albuterol inhaler. I need to go back to my doctor & get something more.)

By the time the cooler weather gets here, I'm sure to be back to my normal running self, in the 11 min/mile range.

The title today is brought to you by Tom Petty. I can run to the beat of that song for a short bit, & it puts me at a 9ish min/mile pace, which is super fast for me and I can't hold it long. But yesterday I let myself run to pace with the song, twice, for as long as I could, and it helped get my time to 12:15 min. miles.

I think getting 3 runs under my belt (even though I use the word "run" loosely here.... the first two runs were walking with some running thrown in) is a big mental hurdle for me. I actually packed my gym bag this morning with plans to leave work at 4 & run 3 miles, even though it's not on my training schedule. Like Forrest Gump, I just wanna run.

Even though the feel-like temperature is 100 degrees. Ick.

When I saw people running this morning on the way to work, I didn't have to envy them. Because I am one of them again. Finally.

Goals

This week marks 13 weeks from the next half marathon in our town. I've run the last 2, and I sure as heck don't want to miss the race on 10/10/10. I totally want a t-shirt with that super cool date.

So, that means I've got to get BUSY. And I ran/walked 3 miles yesterday, and put myself one step closer to my goal. I've got about 10 million more steps to get there, but it all starts with one.

I'd also like to lose 13 pounds in 13 weeks. It sure would make the race easier to run under 150 than at 161. Plus, I need to fit into my fall clothes. That, or go shopping for size 12 pants and I SO am not looking forward to that possibilty. When I stopped running I gained weight. Running again = lose weight? It better!

Goals are good. Now I just have to be consistent and stick2it.

Dad update: we are going to put dad in a nursing home the first week of August. My uncle (who spends the night with him through the week) thinks sooner is better than later. Between running short on funds (VA pays for nursing home so we will not have that cost to bear), caregiver fatigue, and his increasing medical care needs, it's time.

We can't tell my sister because she can't not share the info with dad. And we can't tell dad because it will make him an angry mess until the day he has to leave his house. Let me tell you, this has been a hellish week, carrying the knowledge around and not being able to tell anyone but my husband (no one from my family reads my blog, so it won't get to my sister from here).

It would be a huge blessing if he would pass in the next few weeks, but that's not likely to happen. His appetite is back and he has sort of plateaued. He's going to hate it so much, but we don't have a choice. I visited the home and it was nice, as far as those things go. It didn't smell bad, which is a big deal. And they'll give him a private room. The grounds are really nice, and he can have his special hospital bed the VA bought him (which he's never used) and he can have his fancy wheelchair (where he stays, by his choice, 24/7).

He'll probably not want to even see me after the move, since I'm the one "responsible" for him leaving his home. I handle the finances--had to break the news we are almost out of money and can't support the ridiculous cost of 24/7 care any longer. I and my uncle made the decision. Dad is going to need someone to blame. It's likely to be me. I guess we'll see.


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Not easy

Life is nuts right now and has been the past couple weeks. All but Sophie had the stomach flu. Thankfully that seems to be over.

But the big stuff going on involves my dad. My sister's leave may not be approved and if it isn't my dad will likely go to a nursing home. And while this will be hard, it will be a relief too.

Getting dad to agree to it is another matter all together.

Nothing is set yet, but it's going to be a rough time for a while. Every day is one step closer to this being over.

I weighed 159 this morning. Could be worse.


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Photo update

It's been a looonnngggg time since I've posted a picture of myself, for obvious reasons. Who posts anti-progress pictures?

But, I got my crappy camera replaced with a refurbed camera (thank you Panasonic warranty), and I thought, oh well what the hell.

So, for your viewing pleasure (HA!). Here I am. Weight, 162 (yeah, yeah, I know). Size 12 shorts (Levi's), size Large shirt (American Living, JC Penney). I don't like my hair this short, by the way. My girl got a little scissors happy on Tuesday night. It grows fast, so no biggie.

Food's not been great, but could be worse. I finally used my treadmill yesterday. Did 50 minutes on it, & ran 14 of those minutes. I've printed a half marathon training plan. I really, really, really want to do Evansville's half on 10/10/10. I mean, I totally need that t-shirt--10/10/10.... how cool. It's just over 17 weeks away.

Completely doable, as long as I don't. freaking. quit.

Enjoy your weekend, friends. It's hotter than hades here, supposed to be over 95* for the next week. And it's only June.

158.2 - Not so perfect

First the good stuff.

I've worked out 3 times already this week. Sunday, Mark & I did a Body Pump class at the gym. Oh. My. Gosh. There is nothing I can do with my body that empowers me more than lifting weights. I love that class. I wish I could take it 3 days a week. If only it would fit into my schedule.

Then Monday, I walked & ran FOUR MILES! It's VBS week, & so I have had my nights to myself. It was a gorgeous evening, the humidity hadn't set in yet. I mostly walked the first mile with only a few bouts of running. I think my time was just over 14 minutes. Then the more I moved the more I wanted to run, and by the time I'd hit my fourth mile my pace was down to the 13 minute range, which, at this point, is really good for me. I was running .3-.5 mile at a time with .1-.2 mile walk breaks in between. For the first time in a very, very long time, I felt like a runner again.

Then Tuesday, I could barely walk, my legs were so shredded. Tuesday night after I'd dropped off the kids, I went to the gym & walked a slow mile on the treadmill, then stretched for about 30 minutes, did 15 pushups (on my toes, 100-Push-Up-Challenge style-- 5 pushups, rest one minute, repeat 2 more times), then walked another mile. I figured I could work out some lactic acid, and it seemed to help. I was much less sore on Wednesday.

I'm planning on hitting the treadmill at home after work today and will shoot for at least 30 minutes, maybe more if there's time.

Now, the not so great stuff, on the diet front. I've been on a roller coaster the past two weeks. I had some "fun" weekends which meant I totally fell off track on The Perfect Plan. The week after Memorial Day I couldn't get there to weigh in--they are only open on M-W-F. And this week has been insane, too. Mark left on Wednesday at 5:30 a.m. for Philadelphia for a business trip, and I haven't been over to weigh in this week either. Plus, I've gained a couple of pounds. The last time I weighed in I gained .4 pounds & the girl made me feel like a criminal for eating cake on my daughter's birthday. So, yeah, not so motivated to officially weigh in.

Plus--and I'm trying not to make this an "excuse," it just is what it is--I don't think The Perfect Plan is going to work for me. For several reasons.

First, there's just too much food on this plan. For example, I stuck to it for 5 days and then had 2 days where I fudged a couple of times but mostly ate OK. I gained that week & could FEEL that I wasn't losing weight. In the past--and by "past" I mean when I was on LA Weight Loss in 2007--I could stick to the plan all week, have a few splurges on the weekend, and still lose weight because the plan doesn't allow for a lot of calories each day. That worked very well for me.

Second, there's no room for convenience foods on TPP. I'm not saying I want to eat a frozen meal every day. No way. But I need some flexibility. There is none with TPP. Also, the recipes are complicated! I'm not that great a cook & have little time or interest in making elaborate recipes. If it takes more than one pan, I'm probably not going to make it. I have gotten a few really great food ideas from the diet that I'm still going to use, so it's not been a total waste.

Third, I don't know HOW I had time to weigh in 3 times a week in 2007 with LAWL. I guess it just wasn't as busy at work, & I (and my husband) felt the urgency of my need to lose weight when I was over 200 pounds. Now, work is the priority more than a weigh in. I would love to go back to the days when I could leave the office for 45 minutes 3 times a week, but it's just not realistic right now.

Fourth, the cost is going to be prohibitive. I signed up for 6 weeks, and I'm going to have to sign up for another 6 in a week or so if I continue, and I just don't have the cash right now.

So.... does all this mean I've just given up on The Diet? No, no, no. I have been in search of a new perfect plan (will the search ever end?) and I think I've found it.

Did you know you could buy diet plans on eBay? I found the LAWL plan there for $12. The whole plan, for every weight level, is there. There are the guidelines, the diet diary, the food exchange lists, even some recipes. Yesterday I made myself a diary book with my copy machine, paper cutter, and stapler. It's just like the old days in 2007--little circles to fill in when I have a food group. Two LA Lite bars--which I'm currently substituting with Luna Protein bars--which satisfy my chocolate cravings. Flexibility for treats & eating out & frozen meals. I can't help but feel like I've come full circle, back to the plan that I KNOW I can do & have had success with.

I realize I've been on/off/on/off this plan or that plan. I don't know why I can't just find one & stick to it. Obviously, though, I'm not unique or the diet industry wouldn't be the multi-gazillion dollar industry that it is. I guess the important thing is that I haven't given up. Right? Right?

I had been back up to over 161 again. I stuck to the plan yesterday fairly easily. I love filling in those little circles. And it paid off with a quick loss this morning. With some exercise and some controlled fun food times this weekend, I should be off to a good start.

If I fall off the wagon, at least I've got plenty of practice climbing back on.

156.8 -- Summer's Here

2 pounds in two weeks. Better than a gain, but not what I'm looking for. I've got to step it up a notch this week. And stay on plan over the weekend. Weekends can undo a week of good work. And what's the point of that?

I haven't been exercising. That has to change.

The good news is we have a summer membership at our old gym, the one with the great pool and exercise classes. It's the gym where I learned to love running and Body Pump. And where I built some killer arms in 60 days.

So starting June 1 I have no excuses. Plus, I'll have to wear a swimsuit soon. Is there anything more powerfully motivating to getting in shape than that?

School's out and summer' here. Time to take advantage of the next 3 months and get these 15-20 pounds off for really reals.

Vickie, on the cake leftovers-- the first one we had a tad left, and I had one more slice at home after her party. And felt like crap after. The one on her birthday we had quite a bit left over, and I left it for the restaurant staff. No way was it coming back to my house!

GG, thanks for the body bug idea. I'll have to look into that.

Thank you all for commenting. It feels good to be back.

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157.2 - All or Nothing

I've been struggling this week with the whole all or nothing thing. You know, the self talk of "I ate a piece of cake, so I might as well eat whatever else I want because I've blown it today. I'll just start over tomorrow."

Almost every day I've had something to eat that I shouldn't have. I've had to decide--am I going to let it derail me? Or am I going to soldier on like I didn't stray?

Some days have been better than others.

Saturday was nuts. It started off well--I ran week 1, day 3 of C25k. Then we had Sophie's birthday party Saturday at noon, then she had a Brownie outing from 4:30 - 8:30 pm (I actually took a nap for a couple of hours, but it was a carb-induced food coma resulting from leftover birthday cake).

Saturday night I helped my sister with my Dad for his overnight care. I got there around 10:30 p.m. We didn't lie down to try to sleep until 3 a.m. It's just the way Dad is. He doesn't operate according to anyone's clock but his own. Saturday night I ate pretty poorly. But, hell, having a quarter of a pumpkin pie at 2 a.m. at my Dad's was frankly the least amount of damage I could have done. My sister keeps his house stocked with packaged sugar bombs. At least I chose one based off a fruit.

I barely slept--my bed was a split-rocker love seat, so it was too short & had a hard line running horizontally across the middle of my body. We were back up at 7:30 taking care of Dad again. I was obviously exhausted, and when I got home around noon I was pretty much good for nothing. I don't remember what I ate Sunday--nothing horrible and I think I stayed on plan the best I could. But I was a slug.

This week has been a challenge, too. We've had something every night--Monday a visit with an out of town friend, yesterday was Sophie's birthday at her favorite restaurant (and of course she got another cake). Today I had a work lunch and only ate a small portion of the linguine that came with the chicken breast, but I did have about half the lemon pie that was sitting on the table when we arrived (next to the salad plates.... irony of ironies).

I could have thrown in the towel for the entire week, I guess. I haven't lost any more weight, but I know I'm holding onto salt (we did eat Japanese hibachi last night, & even though I didn't order the fried rice, I did eat the grilled veggies & chicken & used the dipping sauces, and, oh yeah, had a piece of my 9 year old's birthday cake). And it would be a lot worse had I said screw it & started eating oreos at night again.

So, instead, I'm eating my 2 cups of raw veggies now, and not going to freak because I can't be perfect in the face of LIFE. I'm going to celebrate birthdays with my family & have a piece of cake. I'm going to eat what's served to me at a networking business lunch with 300 other women that I paid $14 for. I'm going to eat pie when I'm helping to take care of my dying father. I loved Jill's post on this issue. It makes me feel not so alone.

My waist line is shrinking more slowly than I'd like. But at least for this week, I found the middle ground between all or nothing.

156.4 - Sharing the good stuff

Yes, I know it's a shocker. Here I am just a few days after a post, posting again.

Funny, it's easier to get on here when I'm doing well.

Also? No one but you guys cares about what I'm eating or how much I'm exercising. I've found that over the last 6 months while I've been sedentary & a slave to food, the last thing I want to read about on Facebook (which is my primary social media venue & how I stay connected to a lot of you... if you're not my friend yet but want to be, email me your name & city & I'll send you a friend request) is how great someone else's life is. If I'm in a crappy mood or my life feels like it's falling apart, I have a hard time dealing with all the "I'm so blessed! I love my husband! My kids are brilliant! My life is so great! The sky is blue in my world even when it's raining!" Blah blah blah.

I'm in no way saying that these happy things shouldn't be shared on Facebook. They should. It makes people feel good to share their joy, and it's MY PROBLEM, not theirs, when I get all bah humbug in the face of someone else's good fortune. Hell, I've posted more than my share of blue-sky updates.

But, being in the curmudgeon camp has taught me something--a lot of people on FB don't give a shit that I'm on a new diet plan & am having a great week. A lot of people, probably the majority of them actually, are struggling & unhappy & their dark sides get the best of them when they read a bunch of "Happy Happy Joy Joy" on Facebook.

All that to say--I know that I can come HERE and spread the joy and you all will be nothing but welcoming and pat-me-on-the-back supportive.

So, onto the good stuff. I lost 3.5 pounds during my first week on The Perfect Plan. I haven't felt hungry or deprived at all. I've had a few cravings & slipped a couple of times (darn golden Oreos), but my slips have been minor (3 cookies in a week and a half is nothing). I'm eating more veggies & fruits than I ever have on any diet. I'm eating nothing at all processed, which I find to be frankly amazing. I got the recipes Wednesday (the first week they only give you two--one for the best ranch dressing ever & one for muffins that you get twice a day) and there are a lot that will be fun to make & fabulously delicious. I can't wait to make my grocery list & start cooking.

And, icing on the cake, I've done 2 days of the Couch to 5K program this week. There's a great iPod app for C25K that makes it way easy to do this training program. I am totally psyched about it. To put things in perspective: the first time I did C25K was in 2007 and I weighed 195 pounds. I did the beginning weeks' running portions at 4.5 mph! Wednesday on Week 1 Day 2 I ran all 9 running legs at 6.0 mph. That's a ten minute mile! The running legs are only 60 seconds but the pace wasn't hard until the last two legs, so I think 6.0 is a sweet spot right now.

I'm already noticing a difference in climbing the stairs at work (I have about 40 pounds of crap I carry with me every morning--I kid you not.... 4 bags minimum... my purse, my "everything else" tote bag, my laptop, and my lunch with water bottle. It's a lot of crap). And I just don't feel as weak as I was feeling, even though I haven't started lifting weights yet (Vickie, I totally am going to set my weights by the couch & start lifting at night while watching TV. What a great idea).

I don't know why it's finally clicking now. I hope I can stay in this groove for a long time. Knowing I have a place to go to be accountable for my food choices & weigh ins make a big difference. I feel hopeful & motivated again. Getting the sugar & carbs out of my life also gets rid of the endless cycle of cravings and self flagellation.

That's the scoop today. The sun is shining outside my window today, but the sky in my world was already back to clear blue. At least for today.

Oh, and my weight in the title is my Shout Out to 2007--the Year of the Big Loss. Here's to 2010--the Year of the Final Loss.

The Perfect Plan

So I made it to the new diet place last Monday. It's called The Perfect Plan. I can weigh in 3 times a week if I want to. They provide recipes (which I need since I'm not a natural cook) and a food plan. It's the usual weight loss plan--but stricter in that there's no red meat and little fat, and I can have 5-7 fruits a day (only one high sugar fruit like bananas a day). Lots of veggies. Also can have eggs, light yogurt, and cottage cheese. No other cheese though. At least that's the plan for now.

I started last Wednesday and miracle of miracles, I'm doing great. I've been on plan a full week and strayed only on Saturday when we went to the movie with popcorn and chocolate. Knowing I have to be accountable to a weigh in is what I need to stay on track. I've even stopped eating at night. Getting the refined carbs out is a huge deal and gets rid of cravings.

It's only one week but it's a solid start.

Now the next thing I have to do is lift weights. Seriously, my body is getting weak and creaky and sore and I've only been 40 for a month. I'm not exagerating either.

No new news on my dad.

Sophie turns 9 next week. The years are flying by.



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Starting Over

My hard drive on my laptop died last month. I got the blue screen of death one night while booting up to watch "The Office" on Netflix, and my beloved "C:" never was to be seen again.

Of course, I've been meaning for months to back the thing up. Even put an external drive into my cart at Sam's only to remove it after saying to no one in particular (because I was by myself, but that never stops me from talking while shopping)-- "I don't want to spend $100 today."

If only some fortune teller had been walking by to warn me I was making a huge mistake. Now I'm way over $100 in costs for the computer guy to have removed the old & put in a new hard drive. He is also trying to recover the data on my old drive, but it's a monumental task because (a) the drive was encrypted because it's also my work computer, and apparently decrypting the data is not easy to do, and (b) the darn drive stopped spinning altogether.

There's a lot of precious data on that drive. Pictures and videos of the kids, mostly. But there's one thing in particular that's dear to my heart. The excel spreadsheet that chronicles my weight loss & running journey from 2007 through 2009.

It's. Just. Gone. (for now anyway....hopefully my guy can bring it back to life through some miracle)

That spreadsheet was my accountability partner for 3 years. It's got my highest weight and my lowest weight. It's got the first time I ran a full mile without stopping. It's got my four Half Marathons and the training (or lack thereof, for the one I ran last October) I did for each one. Until last fall and the crisis with my Dad hit, I was in that spreadsheet almost every day.

Yesterday, on a sunny, breezy, 80 degree Monday, I decided I was finally going to walk/run outside again. The last time I used my Garmin to run outside was in January, in the bitter cold, when I was still planning on running the April marathon.

Since then, I've done some walking/jogging on our treadmill and have walked a couple times with a friend outside, but my beloved trips around the park with just me, Garmy, and my Shuffle have been absent from my life since last fall.

And so, on my walk yesterday--walking with intermittent running thrown in, because I'm WAY too out of shape to run much yet--while I was thinking my thoughts, it dawned on me that I lost my spreadsheet in the Great Hard Drive Crash of 2010. I realized that I would have to start all over again. Which is what I'm having to do with the rest of my fitness life, so I suppose it's fitting that I start over with a new spreadsheet.

I only did 30 minutes, 2.3 miles. I felt great the first 5 minutes, and then after I'd run for one minute it was obvious just how out of shape I am. My sports bra was so tight it was uncomfortable. My skin is so loose (no muscle tone) that it itched from the bouncing and the blood coming to the surface. My knees hurt. My lungs hurt. My heart hurt.

It's frightening how fast I've lost what I worked so hard for from 2007 - 2009. No, I don't weigh 209 pounds like I did in February 2007. But I do weigh almost 160 pounds, and I have next to no muscle tone in my arms, legs, stomach, and butt. And I am having similar kinds of food struggles as I did in my past--eating for comfort, eating in secret, eating at night.

I've tried off & on all year to get myself straightened out. It's not worked, obviously. I know I have a lot going on in my life, but honestly there's no reason to continue like this. My dad's situation isn't getting any worse for me personally, and I can't keep using him as an excuse for failure.

If only I had LA Weight Loss again. That kind of guidance, support, and accountability in my day to day life really makes a difference for me. I found an Evansville center called The Perfect Plan which sounds like it might be helpful. I left a voicemail for them to call me back--the fact I had to leave a voicemail makes me doubt them, though. If they aren't it, I'll keep looking. I'm not going to let this go any farther than it already has.

For today, I'm taking it one meal at a time. I'm going to walk/run again this afternoon. I posted a blog entry today. I had protein with breakfast & lunch. I'm trying to talk myself back from the ledge with "It's OK! It's happens to everyone sometimes. You've done it before, you can do it again." But it's still really hard to face facts, which now include the nasty reality that I'm no longer in my 30s.

So that's the scoop. Lots of work to do. I've done it before. I can do it again.

****
Update on my Dad: He's slowly declining. We did get him to agree to hospice, which means we won't be doing a feeding tube at all. We already had palliative care, and the level of care hasn't changed that much since we added hospice. But knowing we have hospice in place for when he's in the final stages is comforting.

When those final stages are likely to happen is anyone's guess. One week, he won't eat and won't have a BM, and the next he's back to eating and digesting. His circulation is still very poor. His breathing is weaker. He sleeps for days, but then he's awake for days. He does have a lot of body fat to keep him alive if he doesn't eat, but he is starting to burn through it. His upper body is wasting away; his lower body is swollen from fluid retention; his middle body is distended and swollen. His urine production is way down and his knuckles and fingernails have a blue hue. His BP was down to 112/60 last week. It's quite possible he's with us all summer.

He's still being very demanding at times and can be a big jerk most days. I haven't "spoken" with him for almost a month. I visited on Sunday, but he was asleep the whole time I was there. My sister is there 4 or more days a week and she and I talk every day, so she keeps me in the loop. He can still move a pencil around a letter board to talk, but my sister says he's losing control of his right hand too, so we don't know how much longer he will be able to communicate. He has an expensive eye-gaze machine (thanks to the VA) that allows his eyes to choose letters to talk, but he won't use it (it won't work with his glasses on, and he won't use it with them off--I don't know why, b/c he can see the letters with them off).

It's heartbreaking to see him like he is. It's just as hard to think he's going to be gone soon, even though I wish for everyone's sake--especially his--he'd let go & pass on. But he can't or won't. Eventually this will be over, but it may be months and months yet. We just don't know.