The mind is a very powerful weapon, no doubt about it. This last week was a good reminder of that.
First, I had a moment of clarity on Tuesday. I went to step on the scale like I usually do most days, and had to turn it right side up first. The kids and dog had flipped it over the night before. I waited a minute for it to recalibrate and then stepped on. 142.3 pounds! Whoa. That meant I had lost over 100 pounds from my highest! I lost over 100 pounds! Whoa. I really didn't expect that. Especially since I was 146 yesterday... wait. I was 146 yesterday. OK, occasionally I have a couple pounds of water weight that come off/ go on in 24 hours, but 4 pounds difference??? I stepped of and let it recalibrate again. 147.2. Huh. Recalibrate again. 147.2. Darn. So apparently it didn't recalibrate after I turned it over the first time and that was a big ol' "Psych!" from the universe. But you know what, it wasn't that bad. I've been telling myself that losing a solid hundred would be cool, but that I'm very happy with my 97 pound lost, and if I lose more it's bonus. The great thing was, I proved to myself that I'm not selling myself a lie. I felt proud before I stepped on the scale that morning, and I felt proud after I found out the first reading was wrong. Slight less excited about blogging this week - that was going to be a fun post title - but I wasn't upset. Yay! My head is still screwed on right.
Wednesday I ran 3.1 miles in the afternoon to continue to prepare for the 5k Jingle Bell Run I will be running December 9th in Cleveland. I'm so excited about running my first 5k, and feel good that actually jogging the whole thing is something I can handle (barring the unforseen, that is). I'm jogging at least 3 miles twice a week now, and shorter distances a couple other time a week. So far my hip/ bursitis isn't bad.
Thursday was a rough day. My job as a monitor at the elementary school has changed a bit. I work with an autistic kindergartener one-on-one for the first half now, and then the third grade classes for the second half. I miss working with the whole group of kindergartners and first graders, but I do enjoy helping my charge. Most times. Not Thursday. Thursday was a full blown tantrum-all-day kind of day. I really feel for him. He's very bright - a kindergartner who can read at what I would say is a 1-2 grade level. But he just started speaking a year ago and his articulation/ intelligibilty is pretty poor. That makes things very frustrating because many times people can't understand him and that can lead to tantrums. Add to that his sensory integration issues - getting over stimulated by noise, light, textures... the poor guy has a lot to deal with. His mind is constantly getting in the way of him learning and enjoying his peers. That doesn't excuse tantrums, but helps me let go of my frustration in dealing with them. It's my job to help him handle situations so that 1) he can avoid getting so frustrated that he loses control and 2) help him learn how to take control of himself and cope with challenges. By the end of my time with him I helped him write an apology note to the people he upset throwing things around, and he apologized to me as well.
Thursday night I was working on frosting my famous candy cane cookies. I started baking them earlier this week and haven't struggled with sneaking cookie dough or anything. But that night was a different situation. You see, the candy cane cookies get dipped in a peppermint glaze and then sprinkled with red sugar stripes. The problem is that when you dip 100 cookies, you get glaze on your fingers over and over again. And a couple of times I licked my fingers. And then a couple more. I finally stopped myself and stopped glazing for the night. I didn't eat enough to make me dump, but I craved that sugar! Not good.
First victory - I stopped glazing when I realized what I was doing. Second victory - I logged the glaze on my food diary. For those of you who started reading recently, I had a horrible moment of self-realization back in my pre-op days when I found myself lying on the food diary. To myself. Who was the ONLY ONE who would be reading my food log. Seriously, how warped is that? I didn't want to say I ate a cookie, so I had recorded 1 apple, 1 biscuit/ roll, and 1 tablespoon of butter. Lying to myself was a real low. I had already turned in my food log for approval for surgery, and there was nobody to impress... It was a real eye-opener of how warped my mind could be. But not this time. I logged it!
Final victory - I told my husband about my poor choice and the next day I finished glazing the cookies without making the same mistakes. I invited my kids and then my husband to come in the kitchen with me while I did it so I knew I had accountability other than myself. I needed to talk to my husband anyway - and he was worried about my slipping up the night before and wanting to be supportive, so it worked out well for both of us.
I'm not perfect - and never will be, but I will continue to succeed because I HAVE TO. This is a committment I have made to myself and my family. I will remain healthy. My kids and husband are willing to live with less (or no) cookies if neccesary, and I am thankful for their support.
Our mind can be our best defense and our worst enemy. And for those friends who read this blog and have not had weight loss surgery, that is why those of us who are surgically altered tend to get militant about how we're eating and our routines - because we know that we have tendencies to get out of control, and we've already risked our life to get healthy. That little bit of sugar made me crave sugar for the next 4 days. So I won't be sending care packages of cookies to my out of town friends this year because I'm not making as much as I used to. But I know you love me anyway :)
First, I had a moment of clarity on Tuesday. I went to step on the scale like I usually do most days, and had to turn it right side up first. The kids and dog had flipped it over the night before. I waited a minute for it to recalibrate and then stepped on. 142.3 pounds! Whoa. That meant I had lost over 100 pounds from my highest! I lost over 100 pounds! Whoa. I really didn't expect that. Especially since I was 146 yesterday... wait. I was 146 yesterday. OK, occasionally I have a couple pounds of water weight that come off/ go on in 24 hours, but 4 pounds difference??? I stepped of and let it recalibrate again. 147.2. Huh. Recalibrate again. 147.2. Darn. So apparently it didn't recalibrate after I turned it over the first time and that was a big ol' "Psych!" from the universe. But you know what, it wasn't that bad. I've been telling myself that losing a solid hundred would be cool, but that I'm very happy with my 97 pound lost, and if I lose more it's bonus. The great thing was, I proved to myself that I'm not selling myself a lie. I felt proud before I stepped on the scale that morning, and I felt proud after I found out the first reading was wrong. Slight less excited about blogging this week - that was going to be a fun post title - but I wasn't upset. Yay! My head is still screwed on right.
Wednesday I ran 3.1 miles in the afternoon to continue to prepare for the 5k Jingle Bell Run I will be running December 9th in Cleveland. I'm so excited about running my first 5k, and feel good that actually jogging the whole thing is something I can handle (barring the unforseen, that is). I'm jogging at least 3 miles twice a week now, and shorter distances a couple other time a week. So far my hip/ bursitis isn't bad.
Thursday was a rough day. My job as a monitor at the elementary school has changed a bit. I work with an autistic kindergartener one-on-one for the first half now, and then the third grade classes for the second half. I miss working with the whole group of kindergartners and first graders, but I do enjoy helping my charge. Most times. Not Thursday. Thursday was a full blown tantrum-all-day kind of day. I really feel for him. He's very bright - a kindergartner who can read at what I would say is a 1-2 grade level. But he just started speaking a year ago and his articulation/ intelligibilty is pretty poor. That makes things very frustrating because many times people can't understand him and that can lead to tantrums. Add to that his sensory integration issues - getting over stimulated by noise, light, textures... the poor guy has a lot to deal with. His mind is constantly getting in the way of him learning and enjoying his peers. That doesn't excuse tantrums, but helps me let go of my frustration in dealing with them. It's my job to help him handle situations so that 1) he can avoid getting so frustrated that he loses control and 2) help him learn how to take control of himself and cope with challenges. By the end of my time with him I helped him write an apology note to the people he upset throwing things around, and he apologized to me as well.
Thursday night I was working on frosting my famous candy cane cookies. I started baking them earlier this week and haven't struggled with sneaking cookie dough or anything. But that night was a different situation. You see, the candy cane cookies get dipped in a peppermint glaze and then sprinkled with red sugar stripes. The problem is that when you dip 100 cookies, you get glaze on your fingers over and over again. And a couple of times I licked my fingers. And then a couple more. I finally stopped myself and stopped glazing for the night. I didn't eat enough to make me dump, but I craved that sugar! Not good.
First victory - I stopped glazing when I realized what I was doing. Second victory - I logged the glaze on my food diary. For those of you who started reading recently, I had a horrible moment of self-realization back in my pre-op days when I found myself lying on the food diary. To myself. Who was the ONLY ONE who would be reading my food log. Seriously, how warped is that? I didn't want to say I ate a cookie, so I had recorded 1 apple, 1 biscuit/ roll, and 1 tablespoon of butter. Lying to myself was a real low. I had already turned in my food log for approval for surgery, and there was nobody to impress... It was a real eye-opener of how warped my mind could be. But not this time. I logged it!
Final victory - I told my husband about my poor choice and the next day I finished glazing the cookies without making the same mistakes. I invited my kids and then my husband to come in the kitchen with me while I did it so I knew I had accountability other than myself. I needed to talk to my husband anyway - and he was worried about my slipping up the night before and wanting to be supportive, so it worked out well for both of us.
I'm not perfect - and never will be, but I will continue to succeed because I HAVE TO. This is a committment I have made to myself and my family. I will remain healthy. My kids and husband are willing to live with less (or no) cookies if neccesary, and I am thankful for their support.
Our mind can be our best defense and our worst enemy. And for those friends who read this blog and have not had weight loss surgery, that is why those of us who are surgically altered tend to get militant about how we're eating and our routines - because we know that we have tendencies to get out of control, and we've already risked our life to get healthy. That little bit of sugar made me crave sugar for the next 4 days. So I won't be sending care packages of cookies to my out of town friends this year because I'm not making as much as I used to. But I know you love me anyway :)
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