So far, so good (or...Hey, I made it a whole day!)

I'm getting back on track.  I've found my mojo.  The force is with me.  I've got air in my tires and wind at my back.  However you want to put the cliche, I'm feeling much more motivated now to do what I need to in order to break through my weight loss stall.

My biggest hurdles are always planning and being accountable.  So this morning I woke up and started my day out right with some Eggface-approved chocolate mini-muffins (YUM!).  If you haven't visited her blog, do yourself a favor and click on the button in the right margin of my blog.  She has great tips and recipes for those of us needing the help (ie.  everyone I've ever met who's had weight loss surgery).  She's even doing a vitamin giveaway on her site right now (although I shouldn't tell you so that I have better odds of winning).  By the way, with a little adaptation, her recipes even work at high altitude!  I made her chocolate mini muffins 3-ways:  a dot of creamy peanut butter in the middle for some, a sprinkling of Black Onyx cocoa powder (the kind that makes Oreos so darkly delicious) and instant coffee crystals for others, and a CocoaRoast almond for the last set.  I think the peanut butter and mocha ones were the best.

Then I made a BBQ chicken "pizza" for lunch, which consisted of a low-carb tortilla (I use the Fat Flush Plan tortillas, despite the appalling name) topped with a little mix of pizza sauce and BBQ sauce, pieces of roasted chicken, and a sprinkle of pizza cheese.  YUM! 

For dinner, I made chili.  Taking inspiration from Eggface, I just made it up as I went.  I put a pot roast in the crockpot with some blended-up salsa, chicken broth, and a bunch of chili spices I bought at a fair.  I added a can of black beans about halfway through, shredded the meat and added it back in, sprinkles in a teaspoon of coffee crystals, and let it stay on warm until I was ready to eat.  Yes, that sound you hear is me patting myself on the back for being so clever.

I still have 1-2 meals left for the day...I average about 5 meals per day, but sometimes on the weekend time gets away from me and I don't get them all in.  But the chili was so good that I may have some more of that.

Basically the quality of what I'm eating is much better, but that is just half the battle.  What I'm really worried about is the quantity of food.  I've never been great about measuring and it appears to be catching up to me.  I could have eaten 1/2 cup of chili, but forced myself to stop at 1/3 cup.  I know that if you haven't had surgery that sounds ridiculously small, but from someone who was only able to eat 1 tablespoon at a time only 10 short months ago, it's a lot.  And at the point I am, I should still only be able to eat 1/4 cup to 1/3 cup.  I'm hoping that with a week or two of restricting myself to 1/4 cup that my stomach may re-shrink.  Or I'll get so hungry that I gnaw off someone's arm during a budget meeting.  One or the other, really. 

Now that my cold seems to be on the downhill side, it means getting back to the gym tomorrow night.  I'm dreading the inevitable "January Crowd" of people who start out the year working out and drop out by March.  To make it even worse, the 24 Hour Fitness that is on my way home is closed for renovations, so all the other centers are that much more crowded.  It'll be like shopping at Loeman's the day after Christmas.  Or Wal-Mart the day after Thanksgiving.  I'm anticipating shoving, pushing, and a small amount of bloodshed.  That way anything that actually does happen is a bit of a denoument.

I hope your year is starting out well too.  Here's to staying on track...

I'm a star! And a role model! (be very afraid...)

This Thursday night,my surgeon held a bariatric seminar, which he requires all of his pre-op patients to attend.  He talks about his background (Dr. Michael Snyder of Rose Medical in Denver, also the inventor of the Full Bars you may have seen on late-night TV), the different surgical options, and what each one entails.  I was invited to be one of the speakers on the panel of post-ops, who tell their story and answer questions.

This was really exciting, because:
1.  They thought of me as a post-op success story (so far...)
b.  They realized how articulate and charming I am
3.  It's a great way to remind myself of where I was, and where I am now

It was a wonderful experience.  I got to see my surgeon while standing vertically, instead of lying down and drugged up.  I wish I'd had a chance to talk to him, but he got a call into the ER and had to leave early.  I would have liked to see if he still recognizes me, or if remembers that it's me whose new pouch was swollen shut for 7 days (and that he told me if it went one more day that he would have taken me back to surgery--which he's never had to do).

The biggest thing is remembering what it was like for me to attend the very same seminar, back in November of 2009.  I remember that I was worried about how far I would have to walk before I could sit down, because I was in so much pain.  I remember being too timid to ask any questions, or talk to any of the post-op panel.  I remember trying hard not to cry as I listened to him speak, and as he reignited the hope that I could have a life again.

So that's what I told everyone on Thursday.  I brought my before picture, and heard someone ask, "Which one is that?" because they weren't sure who on the panel the pictures belonged to.  I introduced myself, told them what kind of surgery I had, when I had it, and how much I've lost (down 130 now, which is only 15 pounds shy of what my mother weighs).  I told them the best thing about the surgery was getting my life back--being able to do things, go out, walk as much as I want, and all without pain.  I told them that the worst thing is the routine and planning--I'm not naturally good at either and have to work on it every day. 

What I didn't tell them was that I've only lost 5 pounds in the last month, and am worried about how I might not lose more.  Or that I will gain it all back again.  Or that I still cannot control myself around bread, but sweets now hold very little appeal to me.  I didn't tell them that I used to order pizza 2-3 times per week, and that I haven't had real pizza since the last night I was allowed to eat before surgery.  I didn't tell them about the strange comments I get while losing weight, or that I get mad when I get judgmental looks for being fat (I assume) and that I really want to shout, "You think I'm fat NOW?  You should have seen me in January!"  I also didn't share that I'm so anxious to get to a size 16 or less, so that I can shop at normal-sized clothing stores (I'm still around a size 22, since all my weight is in my midsection).  And what if I never get there?

And I don't know if it was right of me to leave that part out.  Because I wanted to know that sort of stuff as a pre-op.  I just didn't know how to ask anymore than I knew how to say it this time around.  Such a long way I've come, and yet such a long way to go...

Pizza, my nemesis

The last meal I ate before prepping for weight loss surgery was pizza--about half a pie.  At my heaviest and most depressed I had pizza ordered in at least once and sometimes 3 times a week.  Even before I gained 200 lbs, my "sweet sixteen" party consisted of pizza, and a cake that looked just like--you guessed it--pizza.  So yeah, you can say I have a problem with it.  And I just learned that my old nemesis is rearing it's ugly, cheese-covered head.

Here's what's going down.  Tomorrow I am going to a "lunch-and-learn" seminar on asphalt (this is NOT the exciting part).  I should explain.  Somehow I became our company's "Facilities Manager" in addition to "HR Guru of General HR Stuff"  (known in other circle as an HR Generalist).  I also have discovered that I am our "Safety Manager" (little did they know I'm the clutziest one out there), "Event Planner", "Front Reception Manager", "Chair Wrangler", and probably a million other things I don't even know I'm supposed to be doing.  That's how non-profits work.  Anyhoo, as the "Facilities Manager" I have to find a solution to our parking lot potholes, which may or may not house the body of Jimmy Hoffa at the bottom--they are so deep I can only speculate.  My point is that I'm going to this silly thing against my will, and I'm going to have to have a coffee enema to stay awake during the "learn" portion.

So, back to the "lunch" portion of the day.  Knowing that I have some peculiarities as far as food goes right now, I called them to get details on the lunch to see if I should just bring my own.  That's right--I'm stylin', I'm proactive, I'm losing weight and feelin' good, and I'm taking care of business.  Her response to me?  "I think we'll probably just order pizza."  (insert record scratch noise, followed by crickets). 

Now I know that I could probably eat 1/2 a piece, or even just the sauce, cheese, and toppings off a whole piece.  But I don't think I'm ready to open that door.  Hell, even just typing "sauce" "cheese" and "toppings" in the same sentence has me foaming at the mouth.  I know that there is going to be a whole lot more time where I will have to fight the food from hell, and maybe I should wait as long as possible before getting into the ring with it.  This is the sensible thing to do, right?

Folks, I am scared of this food.  I am scared silly.  What if the smell is too tempting?  What if I eat it and get sick?  Or worse, what if I eat it and I don't get sick?  People with normal relationships to food probably don't even know what I'm talking about.  The rest of you are probably shuddering with your own food fear issues.

So tell me, what do you worry about?  What makes you lose control?  I'll show you mine if you show me yours.

I'll update you tomorrow on how it goes.  Unless the beast gets the best of me.  Wish me luck...