Bariatric Betty's Try-it-athlon

My 1st Triathlon "ink"

Wow.  Triathlons are EXHAUSTING.  I know, big shock, right?  I went into this with my eyes open, and with some helpful advice from my husband (a former triathlete).  Paraphrasing here: "Be prepared that when you go from the swimming to the biking you legs feel awful, because your arms have been getting most of the blood flow.  Then when you go from the bike to the run it's even worse, because your legs feel all floppy."  OK, so why did you enjoy doing triathlons again?  No seriously, I was lucky to have his advice, because otherwise I could imagine I might have thought I was having serious neurological issues.  This was a mini-triathlon - I ended up swimming about 1/2 mile in the 15 minute swim, rode 7.75 miles in the 20 minute bike, and ran 2 miles in the 20 minute run.  The run I'm very proud of, because I usually jog an 11 minute mile, so I was really pushing myself to run that fast after the bike and swim!  Even more tiring at times, however, was the mental exercise. 

Backing up - I have not done a lot of athletic competitions in my life, mostly because I've never been very good at them.  Since I had bariatric surgery this has changed - I have a lot more confidence to compete and enjoy it, even if I'm not going to win.  As an overweight child I was on a swimming team, a diving team, and a community league soccer team (no tournaments or chances for ribbons/ medals trophies).  The swim team practice was fun for a while, until we start having our meets.  I loved swimming and getting faster/ better. 

Then came our first big meet.  I was a good distance swimmer, but not particularly fast.  Definitely not one of the superstars of our team.  Still, I hoped to place third or second at some meets that year, and maybe the next year I would be even faster.  I really enjoyed swimming with my friends, and I loved the fact that we got to eat candy Ring Pops in between our races to keep our energy up.  I was supposed to compete in freestyle (the 400 I think) and breaststroke (probably the 200).  I might have been in some team medly races as well, doing free, breast, or backstroke.  The one thing I couldn't master for the life of me was the butterfly.  I understood the principal, but couldn't get the timing/ coordination down. 

So, the meet is about to start and my coach pulls me over.  He wants me to swim the 100 butterfly.  "But Coach, I can't swim butterfly."  "Yes," explained the coach "but one of our guys who was going to swim this race isn't here, and I don't want to leave an empty lane.  And I don't want to tire out my best swimmers by adding another race to their meet."  In other words, because he didn't want to have an empty lane, he was perfectly happy to put me in a race I couldn't even do and not mind tiring me out before the races I had a slim chance of placing in.  Yeah, that worked out well.  I felt humiliated as I fumbled through two lengths of quasi-butterfly, finishing far after everyone else.  And then I was exhausted and came in last for my original races (granted, that might have happened regardless).  Needless to say, swim team was no longer fun.  I had learned how much value the coach placed on me (a negligible place holder) and found going to meets embarrassing and humiliating. 

Fast forward to yesterday when I was swimming in the triathlon.  My first thought as I was starting was actually for the woman sharing the lane with me - she had mentioned she "wasn't much of a swimmer" before we started and seeing her start I realized she was not being falsely modest.  I was worried about her making it through the swim, but luckily we were in a shallow enough lane that she could stand up at any point and be ok.  All of the sudden, I realize that I'm in my first swimming race since that swim team year.  Whoa.  My life is totally different now.  I'm a grown woman, healthy weight, and strong.  Nobody is making me do anything.  I realize I don't have to be competing against anyone in the pool with me - I can compete with myself, trying to do the best I can, which might just be finishing the race.  Then, I realize that I actually am swimming faster than at least a couple of people in the race.  My lane partner, for one.  She has stopped several times and stood up to catch her breath.  And a guy a couple people over.  Huh.  Still, I keep swimming and just try to focus on myself.  My breathing, my stroke, hit the flip turn, glide and kick, my breathing...etc.  And after a minute or two everything settles down.  I'm just swimming laps, like I always do.  And 15 minutes isn't a long swim for me.  I realize that if I take it easy (I don't want to push to hard at swimming since I have two other events to come) I will finish the swim and feel good, this doesn't have to feel stressful.  And suddenly, it's not. 

I finished the swim feeling good.  Got changed quickly and went into the gym where the spinning bikes had been preset to our personalized settings.  Everything felt good.  I haven't been biking or spinning in the last year or so, so this was going to be my weakest event.  Again, I didn't want to wear myself out before the run, so I wasn't going to push myself too hard.  Great news - they had music (140 bpm, good for spinning) and I just got into it.  I was singing along a little, definitely keeping loose while I was riding.  My legs didn't feel bad, so my husband's warning seemed to have been for naught.  I was able to drink 24 ounces while I was biking, so hydration wasn't a problem. You know how I've got no padding left around my tailbone?  Well, that's true for everywhere a spinning bike seat hits, too. ;)  Of course, even when I was morbidly obese those things were still uncomfortable!   Anyway, I held my speed at around 105 rpm, and felt great.  Just started to break a sweat at the end of the 20 minutes.  Then they blew the whistle and I hopped off the bike, looking forward to the run and being able to push myself more.  I took one step, and....

Ohhhhhh boy!  Have you ever been on a boat for hours or days and then stepped on to dry land, only to feel like you're off balance/ the land is moving?  That's the best way I can explain trying to walk after the bike.  My legs felt rubbery, and my hips were all kinds-of-whacked-out.  I only had 5 minutes to get up to the track and I knew I NEEDED to stretch out.

Climbing the stairs to the track, I felt my hamstrings tighten up to the point it hurt.  Yup, gonna be doing stretches until it starts, just hope it loosens up... and it did.  I won't say stretching felt good, it hurt, but I was able to run without pain when the whistle blew.  Now my family started cheering me on - that felt fantastic!  "Go, Mom!"  "You're doing great, honey!" "We're so proud of you!".   My assigned lap-counter even started cheering me on; "You've got this, Becky!".  It's the last event, I don't have to hold anything in reserve, so while I paced myself for the first 18 minutes, for the last 2 minutes I ran as fast as I could.  When the whistle blew I had gone a half of a lap further than I had imagined I could in that amount of time!  Yay, me :) 

It took a minute to catch my breath, and I was sweating!  It's been a while since jogging two miles made me sweat (barring beastly hot weather).  I ate a bite of a banana to make sure I had a little carb boost until lunch time, went home, showered, made lunch and the rested.  My whole body was exhausted for the rest of the day.  My body was still a little sore Monday, but not bad.  I can't wait to find out my overall score/ placement.  Next year, I want to beat it!

This weekend I'm doing the Cleveland Clinic Healthy Solon 5k.  A bunch of the members of my local support group are going to do the 1 mile walk.  I'm so excited that so many of us will be there.  We've even got someone coming in from one of my facebook WLS groups that I've never met in person before.  Eileen, can't wait to meet you!  Pictures to follow (like you didn't guess that, right?)!

Bariatric Betty - broken records

The last week has been a good one.  Thanksgiving went according to plan - I kept things simple and relaxed at our house and everyone had a good time.  We even got some good family pictures!  I really enjoy having my picture taken now, which still strikes me as funny after years of dreading it.  We got to see a lot of family, including one Aunt who is considering weight loss surgery.

My uncle asked me if I would feel comfortable talking about my experience with her.  LOL. Yeah, we don't talk much anymore, so he didn't know the answer to that question.  My main concern was if he or family members were pressuring her to consider surgery since mine has gone so well.  I am HAPPY to talk about my surgery with anyone, and encourage people who are interested, but so many people don't realize that the surgery doesn't solve the problem.  They think "If my loved one just does this, then in a year she'll have lost all this weight and we can go on with our lives with her healthy."  If only it was that easy.

First, you have to understand why you're obese to begin with.  Why do you eat what you eat?  Are you a volume over-eater? Are you a sweets junkie?  Are you a sugared soda or coffee addict?  Are you a carbaholic?  Do you drink alcohol often?  Are you an emotional eater?  When you've been on diets do you "cheat" often?  How active are you, and how active are you willing to be?  Are you trying to hide under your layers of fat - trying to make yourself disappear?  Are you trying to push people away with your size?  These issues have to be identified and addressed before surgery- yes, you can change how much and what you're going to eat, but if the reasons you got this way don't change then any loss will be temporary. 

Then there are the risks of the surgery.  People die.  Other people have serious complications.  Some of us have none (like me) but you can't expect that outcome.  Does your insurance even cover weight loss surgery?  If it does, can you afford your portion of the cost?  Are you prepared to be on a pre-approval medically supervised diet for 3, 6, or even 9 months before you even find out if your insurance will approve your surgery?  Do you have medical records documenting your obesity for several years?  Do you log/ journal your food - every bite?  These are things you will have to do.  There will be ongoing costs after surgery - you will be on supplements for the rest of your life - over the counter supplements that will not be covered by insurance.  Then there are the extra labs and doctor's visit you will need to pay for as well (again, for the rest of your life).

Are you ready for the scrutiny that accompanies the knowledge that you are a WLS patient?  The feeling that people are watching what you're eating (either out of curiosity or concern) all the time.  Sometimes they watch with judgement.  Are you prepared for "bad pouch days" when food gets stuck in the new stomach's stoma and makes you sick?  Can you give up drinking while eating (and for an hour afterword) for the rest of your life?  Can you limit yourself to eaing mostly protein for the rest of your life?  No, you will never eat like "normal" people do.  Yes, sometimes you will be able to fake it, but you will spend a large chunk of time figuring out how you will satisfy your nutritional needs and restrictions every day FOREVER.  Going out to eat requires pre-planning/ homework.  It won't feel fun and like a treat.  Going on vacation bring s similar planning and stress.  Eating at a friend's house can be uncomfortable because of your situation - imagine being allergic to gluten and dairy.  That's an example of how some people have to change their diet post-op - some can't handle wheat products at all but those who can eat it can't have much, and some become lactose intolerant.  There will be no more alcohol.  Your doctor may give you permission to drink a small glass of wine or beer after a year post-op, but most will say "No."  We are at high risk for alcohol related problems because of how our modified bodies metabolize the alcohol.

Family support can mean everything in the chances for your success.  If your spouse is supportive and encouraging it can go a long way.  But does your spouse have a history of sabotaging previous efforts to get healthy?  Encouraging you to cheat "just one little bite" or insisting on having snacks around for him or her that are too tempting for you?  Your new lifestyle will change your family's lifestyle as well, and while it will likely make them healthier they won't always like it.  Many people with rocky relationships see those relationships deteriorate after surgery.   The non WLS patient partner can feel jealous of the attention you get (especially from the opposite sex) and the time you are spending focusing on yourself that you used to spend on them.  If you have problems in your relationship your weight loss will not fix them.  I'm a firm believer that all WLS patients should seek counseling before surgery.  Sometimes couples therapy is also helpful. 

Are you prepared for the ongoing struggle both mentally and physically that will not go away?  This surgery fixes your stomach to a small size, but it does not fix your brain.  90% of our struggle is in our brain.  Sometimes I feel like a broken record talking about it, but it's true.  

Having gatric bypass surgery is one of the best things in my life, but it is not to be done lightly. 

Speaking of broken records, I had a couple this week.  I reached a new "low" on the scale, which is always fun.  My weight is fluctuating up and down +/- 2 pounds these days, but I'm losing about 1 pound a month on average.  My other broken record was a jog I did. 3.3 miles!!!  It felt great, especially because it was on new fallen snow and I felt like celebrating that I didn't fall once!  The adreneline from the fear of falling probably hyped my endorphins up a bit.  My 5k is in 8 days, and I can't wait.  I hope my 12 year old can keep up with me :)
 

Bariatric Betty gets psyched out

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 :) 
 

Lost and found, Bariatric Betty embraces hard stuff

The fitbit is lost, long live the fitbit!  Yes, I lost my second fitbit, and have been trying to manually calculate my steps and calories burned all week - boy did it have me spoiled!  My clip/holder had broken the week before and I had contacted the customer service for a free replacement.  For that week I was clipping the fitbit directly on to my belt loops, bra straps, etc.  And on that last fateful day - I jogged with my dog after clipping it on, and came home to find it gone.  I traveled my path again twice, trying to find it to no avail.  Fitbit had already given me a replacement once for free - it wasn't reasonable to expect them to do it again.  And then a ray of light - they have a new (cheaper!) fitbit - the Fitbit Zip.  It does everything but counting flights of stairs and sleep monitoring.  That's not bad - I don't even use the sleep monitoring function.  And instead of $99 it's only $59.  OK!

So I sent an email to customer support reporting the loss of my fitbit, and on the next business day... it happened.  "We would be happy to send you a complementary replacement..."  No way.   OK, I will once again rave: Fitbit - BEST CUSTOMER SERVICE EVER.  So here is my unsolicited ad - in addition to the newer cheaper Zip, the Fitbit One (which should be out for the holidays) will have all the initial capabilities as the Fitbit Ultra - but it and the Zip will be able to interact wirelessly with Apple devices and soon select Android devices.  No more base with a cord.  Woo-hoo!  I'm just getting a replacement Ultra, but for those of you who might be considering a splurge (or who want to whisper a wish to Santa) - this will be even more amazing.   Here's a link http://www.fitbit.com/one

OK, so my scale is hovering around the same number it has been on for the past 4 weeks; we are in a stall, Houston, we are in a stall.  But, I'm not worried.  I have continued to lower my Body Fat Percentage a little at a time, so I know I'm replacing fat with muscle.   I also got my test results back from my primary care physician and they were ALL NORMAL.  All my supplements are doing their jobs, no deficiancies, no diabetes, nothing wrong :) 

I'm enjoying my job, I really get a lot out of being an elementary school monitor.  Other than basically functioning as a lifeguard/ babysitter in the lunchroom and playground, I get a chance to impact the lives some of the kids.  The kid who are bored and need a challenge - have you tried running around the track - see how fast you can get around it!  Wow - you went around the whole monkey bars by yourself look how strong you have gotten by trying every day!  Watching the girl who just lost a parent find solace in helping a special needs student.  The student that told me his "heart hurt" and the resulting conversation that ended up with a referral to child protection services.  The daily boo-boos that give me a chance to talk about how amazing and strong the human body is, that it's already working on healing itself while we walk to get a band-aid.  Explaining to the children who are sad or mad that their friend doesn't want to be their friend anymore that even friends can have disagreements - that real friends will forgive each other and play together another day.  Talking about being fair and sportsmanlike, about including others, and watching the kids grow.  It's very rewarding.  In another life I think I would love to be a guidance counselor - but in this one I appreciate the chance to help when I can and refer them to someone better qualified when it's beyond my level.  One of my NSV's (non-scale victories) this week was that I was able to run around the playground track with my 1st graders when they asked me to join them - without breaking a sweat.

Dealing with stress seems to be going better - in addition to talking with my husband, I'm choosing to walk or jog more than any other coping mechanism.  Of course, last night I had a mega-wave of PMS hormones triggering some huge irritability.  It was late, and since I was finding myself getting ticked about things that I could see weren't worth getting upset about, I elected to send myself to bed early.  I just announced that I was worn out, and asked my hubby to take over - which he graciously did.  This morning I explained why, and he actually thanked me! 

Earlier this week I realized I was starting to eat progressively more of the delicious caramel calcium chew supplements than I needed every day.  Not good.  After chatting with a reader who was asking MY advice about staying away from temptation I recognized it for what it was - an addictive behavior.  Enjoying something, turning to craving something, turning to increased consumption/ usage... That might sound extreme labeling to those of you who haven't been morbidly obese, but most of us recognize that are our overeating could be classified as addiction.  So, I threw the caramel supplements out.  Bought boring tablets.  Did I overreact?  Not in this case - I know because 1) late that day I thought about pulling them out of the trash (they were in a sealed bag) and 2) because I craved those caramel supplements for the next three days.  Were they going to make me fat again?  No.  They might have led to kidney stones because of the large doses of calcium - that wouldn't be good.  But it's more the fact that I recognize that I can't allow myself to have something that I'm going to "crave" because it grows out of control too easily with me.  Will I ever let myself have treats again?  Yes, but definitely not in my first year, and then it will be a small amount, rare, and not keeping it in my house.   Eating too much of anything is unhealthy.  Even calcium.

Yes, my head is a constant work-in-progress.  But I didn't get morbidly obese because of stellar mental health, and I am definitely earning my improved health.  By making good choices over and over again, I look forward to it not being so difficult some day.  It's not difficult every day now, and I am so grateful I have my pouch to help me! 

 

Bariatric Betty says "no" to brunch, and rape jokes

This last weekend my parents invited us to join them for brunch at their independent living facility.  They reassured me that scrambled eggs would be available, and that the kitchen staff would be happy to prepare an omlet or a veggie patty for me.  They did everything they could to make sure I would be set as a vegetarian post-WLS person that they love.  And it was not fun.  Beyond not fun, I would say that the morning of going there I realized I felt like I was about to do my taxes.  In front of an audience. 

I got irritable that morning, and it only grew when I got an email from my mom letting the whole extended family know that she was going to have my dad take a family picture while we were all there.  Great.  So now I'm hoping I don't get anything stuck in my pouch and have to puke in front of everyone, don't have dumping that leads to explosive diarrhea in front of everyone, and no matter what happens I should plan on being photographed.  I don't know what I would look like in a photo after dumping, and I don't want to find out. 

Before we left I told my husband "This is going to be the last time I accept an invite to go out there for a meal."  Given that he had been sensing my stress and irritability with the situation all morning, it is understandable that his response was "Thank you!" 

I made it though brunch without having to make a run for the bathroom, although there were a couple minutes when it was willpower (go down, dry eggs, go DOWN).  And I looked fine for the picture.  Then I talked to my parents about it and explained that I don't want to make plans to see them or anyone else around meals when it's avoidable.  If it's a matter of me spending a whole day with someone, then obviously I am going to eat with them.  But if it's about spending a few hours together, let's plan BETWEEN meals if we can.  Meals aren't fun social situations for me anymore.  In the best of circumstances they are a time I'm trying to do something I need to do and hope I do it well and don't make myself sick.  On a poorer mental health days they are a time I might feel judged, anxious, tempted, and/ or self-concious. 

My parents took this very well, and understood I didn't want to avoid them or think their brunch/ dining room was bad.  They even suggested we could try doing something less meal-oriented for Christmas/ Hanukkah (I think we'll probably have a serve-yourself buffet in the kitchen instead of a sit-down dinner this year) and Thanksgiving (that one I don't see myself changing).  I don't want to deny my kids or husband chances to have great experiences with family and friends (or myself, for that matter), but having those experiences with me as a stress case definitely lowers if not wipes out the net gain. 

So now on to a more volatile subject.  Rape jokes.  For the past few days I have been reading on www.cnn.com about fallout from a comedian who likes to make vulgar and misogynistic jokes about women.  Apparently he was doing a show and make a joke about someone being raped and when a woman from the audience spoke up and said "That's not funny".  He responded by then making jokes about how funny it would be for multiple men to rape that woman, right then. 

Yesterday I was reading an article written by two women who were talking about why some people are able to find these situations humorous.  They talked about how it is partially because of the perpetuated myth of rape victims "bringing it on themselves" - by how they dressed, by getting drunk, by being in a bad neighborhood, by being alone with someone... That even well-meaning police officers and public officials may inadvertantly contribute to this when they are warning of a serial attacker in a neighborhood and say "Women are advised not to wear tight or revealing clothing, be walking alone..." etc.   That to some men, they twist these words of advice into a judgement that says "if you wear tight or revealing clothing, or walk alone, you are willing to put yourself at risk of being raped".  Never mind that I would be willing to bet that most rape victims aren't wearing tight or revealing clothing at the time of their attack. That some are in fact wearing burqas.  Or onesies.

This concept, of somehow being a willing rape victim, is insane.  Some women will dress in revealing clothing, go out, and look to hook up and have sex.  That is completely UNRELATED to someone wanting to be raped.  Rape is not about sex, it is about violence.  Men who rape are not enjoying sex, they are enjoying hurting someone.  In my opinion, they are less than men because they have lost their humanity.  They are simply violent male mammals.  But people who find rape jokes funny turn this around - they see the women as less than human, as female mammals that can be used to bring them pleasure.  They don't see them as daughters, mothers, sisters and grandmothers. 

Current statistics say that 1 in 6 women in the United States have been attacked.  So this comic probably knows several.  I don't want to challenge him (or even write his name and give him any more audience than he already has).  I would like to challenge the women around him, and everywhere.  If you have been attacked and you are emotionally able to do this - tell the men in your life what that did to you.  The physical pain.  The shattering of your concept of being safe.  The fear that prevented you from having healthy relationship with men for however long.  The fear that may have caused you to be unhealthy - maybe like me you ate yourself into a cocoon that you felt would keep an attacker from picking you (again).  If enough of us share the reality of being attacked, more men will understand there is no humor in it.  Maybe even that comic.

In this train of thought I made a specific choice today.  I usually wear loose fitting tops, partially because most of my clothes are too big at this point, partially because I don't like my chest being defined most of the time.  And hiding my muffin top as well.  :)  But part of the not liking my chest being defined is because of not wanting to be sexualized, or for some twisted person to identify me as a potential target.  Today I thought "I can wear a top that shows my shape and not be a target, so I will."  When I walked my dog two miles around my neighborhood this morning I didn't have makeup on or look super-attractive, but I wore a top that FIT.  And I wasn't scared.  Here's a picture: