Ten Things That I Don’t Find Grotesquely Horrible and Abhor About Me

Better late than never! *


After last week’s unbelievable 4.4 pound weight loss (unbelievable and unexpected), we are back up… but only by 1.2 pounds, which puts me at 12.8 pounds to my goal weight.

Recent Sunday Run-day trip.  Because I
wanted to have at least 1 picture…

So, no.  I did not gain back 160 pounds.  I didn’t even gain back 4.4 pounds.  My first two digits didn’t even budge.  Does it hurt?  Yeah, still a little, but the damage was not as bad as my brain thought it would be (considering I probably weighed the crap out of myself and wound up ultimately confusing myself as to what to expect… so I must really work on that bad habit).


However, this post will no longer be about the scale and numbers, as that was not my homework.  This is about those things that the scale does not necessarily tell you… the great things that have occurred, are occurring, and will continue to occur so long as I keep on track.


Without further ado (and in no particular order):




I run.  This, to me, is one of the crazy things that I still do not believe.  This was a habit born from my general desire to take walks when I’m trying to work out a puzzle, am frustrated, am happy, or want to go to downtown Brooklyn for a slice and a comic book (at least, through my 18th year…)  Running, on the other hand, was a thing I avoided like the plague (and a grand topic for another post)… but the funny thing about being outside and being in fresh air was that I wanted to go faster.  And then somehow, I was doing it.  Very slowly, little bits at a time.


Now don’t get me wrong.  I suck at it.  I go very slow.  I’m still trying to build up stamina to run longer.  I will never be a racer.  However, even though it is imperfect… I’m still doing it.  And actually enjoy it.  That’s a big victory to me right there.




I received unsolicited comments on my cooking.  The other day, my food was accused of smelling good, and that made me very happy (especially since it was my Spinach and Artichoke Ziti Bake… though I may also have been very happy because I love that dish and was about to chow down…).  The Husband grumbles about the groceries and the amount of dishes I use, but I think he’s been enjoying it too.  My great desire to taste and try everything has worked well to keep me from feeling deprived… which I’m not!  It’s nice to know there are other things out there to eat aside from pizza, pizza, macaroni and cheese, pizza, bacon, pizza, Doritos, pizza and pizza.


(But I still like pizza.)


I received unsolicited comments on my looks.  I do have folks that will come up to me (especially if they haven’t seen me in months or even years) and tell me that I’m looking great, which is cool since I never feel that way.  


It’s just the way I am… but isn’t everyone, to some extent?


The one example I can think of though that feel great was the other day when I was blathering on to The Husband about… I dunno, something.  Yarn, cooking, knitting, work… some topic.  I looked up at him and noticed he had this strange look on his face… a thoughtful, concentrated look.


“What’s wrong?” I ask, arching an eyebrow at him.


He stared at me a few seconds more.  “You’re beautiful,” he finally said.  He talked about how he liked my hair right then (which I’d though was just frizzy) and how my collar was popped up (I thought this was just my collar being super annoying that day), and that I had some sort of 80s vibe going on (???)… and that I looked really beautiful.  It was something about the way he said it that really touched me… it wasn’t some sort of obligation, but a sudden urge to say I was pretty.  I mention it, though perhaps his perspective may be slightly biased… because I don’t think his comment came from there.  And it made me happy.


I feel fantastic.  This year I learned truly what sickness is (or at least I think I have, I’m sure there is sicker).  For the most part, I feel incredible.  I’ve never felt so healthy and alive… or, rather, my definition of healthy and alive has greatly changed.  I’d been perfectly happy to sit in a chair for 8 hours at work and an additional 6-8 hours at home playing video games… I do find it hard these days to sit still very long at all.  I want to do everything (and, yes, this includes playing video games… just not for 6-8 hour stretches anymore).  I want to run to the top of a mountain and cry out “The Hills are Alive!  … run for your lives?”


Living hills can be scary. 🙂


I have more confidence.  If it seems I will come talk to you more, it is because I do.  It’s hard.  It’s hard for me to even do this… I don’t tend to open up about the true me very often.  I oft times think a lot of the blather you see in my posts is just that… though you may see a tiny seed or spark of true B'<3 here and there.  It's still hard for me… but I think doing this is helping me get out there at least to try to help others if I can.  Also, just in general, I do feel more confident to talk and deal with people.  I think I'll always be an introvert (the last Myers-Briggs test I took had me slightly past the high end of introvert), at least it is a start.


I do, in fact, have a skeletal structure.  I had been excited when I had the merest hint of a collar bone.  It turns out there was a full one there all along.  Sometimes this does freak me out because… well, I’ve never known this, so I often think there’s too much loss going on and people will freak out that I’m starving myself (very untrue, I eat all the time)… but sometimes, I see it and think it is kind of cool.  Just need to make sure that it doesn’t become freaky… build those muscles around it (I guess I should mention here as part of this one that I still have teeny-tiny triceps… yay!)


I own clothing I never thought I’d be able to wear (and some didn’t even enter consideration).  This occurred this past weekend.  I was able to fit into (and therefore purchased) a shirt in a size “S”.  I never owned a size small before, and didn’t think it’d be possible (I only tried it on because it was super cute and did not come in medium).  I am almost afraid to wear it!  


My pant size as well was not a small… but was a size that even a couple of sizes ago I did not think I could get to… and yet, now I own pants in a size I thought was out of reach.  


My thighs are actually smaller.  Don’t get me wrong. I will hate my thighs forever.  Hips hang out on the size and my patootie will follow me around and make fun of me forever, but thighs are the things I get to see all of the time and they just grow and grow and grow, obscuring all else…


… except they don’t.  Even I can’t say they haven’t gotten smaller.  It may be a while yet before my mental image if me catches up with me completely, but I do know that I will still hate my thighs, think them ginormous and accuse them of hatching some plot of adding pizza slices directly to their girth… 


Here is the only compliment they’ll get… they’ve gotten smaller, I can recognize that if I don’t look directly at them… also fitting into those pants I thought I’d never fit into also helps argue that case.


My wedding ring is on my thumb.  This was a victory to my earlier NSV of my ring fitting on my index finger.  I’d gotten the idea from my leader, and while The Husband and I have talked about getting it resized when I’m done (with weight loss, will never be done with weight management nor WeightWatchers), 


I got on the scale today*.  Make that yesterday, for my WeightWatchers weigh-in.  I know… this was not supposed to involve the scale or numbers… but this is an important victory.  I’ve missed 1 weigh-in ever (cruise), I’ve wanted to miss several due to knowing the week would be bad.  This last one was no exception.  


The first day I ever weighed in, I wore jeans and sneakers.  I didn’t wear light pants, nor did I take off my shoes.  I weighed in the heaviest clothes I owned (oh why, oh why?!)  At least I had a way out if I didn’t want to skip and didn’t want to see bad news…


And so yesterday… I got on the scale.  


I did not wear light pants.  


I did not take off my shoes. 


I got on the scale and owned what number they gave back to me.  Not weighing doesn’t change anything.  Ignoring it doesn’t change anything.  Knowing it, recognizing it… that’s the only way to be able to do anything about it.


There we go.  I have blathered and blathered about myself, and recognized that while the numbers may not have been the desired result… I am still seeing results.  They are there, they are tangible… and the rest will fall into place so long as I keep at it.


Speaking of which, still have to work out before work, so take care, and have the good rest of your week!
———————
* I can assure you that the draft was started yesterday (02/16), but time escaped before I could flesh it out.  I could have twice as much time and still not get all I want to get accomplished done.  Just that way.

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