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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