“As we work to create light for others, we naturally light our own way.” ― Mary Anne Radmacher

Tonight I had a friend come over who is grieving in a way that I hope I never have to experience.  Her life, as she knows it, is over and she has to pick up the pieces and carry on.  And she will.  She is stronger than she knows.

We have been having many conversations over the last few weeks.  I have tried hard not to give advice but instead to listen, ask questions and listen some more.  I have said, "I am so sorry." many times when I feel like there is nothing else I can say.  Hugs, kind words and my friendship is really all I have to offer.

Tonight, though, we talked a little about me and something that continues to challenge and frustrate me.    I haven't written about my weight struggles for awhile now but that doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about it.  I have slowly over the last 18 months undone some of the hard work I did.  I have a lot of feelings about it that I could write about for awhile, but honestly, I mostly feel ashamed and embarrassed that I have done this to myself.

I am not sure what happened.  I wish I could pinpoint how I derailed myself.  This problem is nothing compared to my friend's problem, but it is still a problem. I do know that if I don't do something soon to turn it around that the few clothes that still fit, won't for long.  

So, I have a plan.  For tomorrow.  I am not looking any more forward than that.  Tomorrow, I will make a plan for the next day.  And I am going to try and follow that pattern for awhile. 

My friend...you know who you are...thank you.  One day at a time seems like a good plan.  We are probably both stronger than we know, but luckily, we have each other to remind ourselves when we forget.  

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. -Albert Enstein

Einstein was a genius right?  So it stands to reason that perhaps when one finds themselves doing the same thing over and over there is a choice to be made...either become insane or do something different.  

I am NOT a mental health expert but I think that I might have been just at the edge of insanity but thanks to my puzzle making and my ever-patient husband my mental health crisis as been averted for now.  

And what is the source of the near insanity you ask?  Weight loss.  It is no secret how much of a struggle my journey has been pretty much this whole year.  But I continued to trudge to Weight Watcher meetings, stepping up to the scale and putting it all out there.  I have clapped for who knows how many 5 pound stars, none of them mine.  I continued to track one day and not the next.  I would walk everyday during the week until it started a 10 day rainy streak. (I am a fair weather exerciser.)  And the result?  Bouncing up and down like the yo-yo Taelin loves to fling around and sometimes smacks into walls.  (I am admitting to feeling like I have smacked into a wall.)

So then....a change needs to happen.  It has been brewing for awhile.  There are a lot of things that aren't working for me anymore so I need to stop doing them.  There was a lot of internal struggle (A LOT), some tears and a few hugs doled out by Joe but I have reached a few decisions.

First of all, I have changed my Weight Watcher subscription.  Instead of the monthly pass which includes the online support, the meetings with the leader and other members and weekly weigh-in, I have switched to an on-line version only.  I am still track my food and my weight and have the support of the online community.

With the money I have saved ($25 a month), I have joined a locally owned gym.  It is nothing fancy but it has equipment and classes and clearly isn't catering to the die hard fitness folks.  I have some friends that have been going there for awhile.  It has a in house daycare, which again isn't anything fancy, but just today I took a 1 hour step class while Taelin played kitchen, puzzles and watched a Mickey Mouse show.  She was happy, I was happy (but sore) and after an hour we went about our day home together.

I ran into my Weight Watcher leader on Black Friday randomly just days after I have changed by subscription.  It was awkward because I felt like I needed to explain myself, especially after the email she had sent me the week before.  (I hadn't been to a meeting in three weeks.)  I imagine that there will be a few more awkward conversations with people as I change the way I am trying to become healthy.  I have to keep telling myself I am not quitting.  I am not going to meetings anymore nor am I relying on a scale in a center to keep me motivated (which quite frankly wasn't working anyway) but I am not quitting.  I am changing what I am doing because what I was doing wasn't working.  I am going to become healthy.

I guess we will see how it works out.  I am not sure how much I am going to update with my journey.  I am sure it will make an appearance but quite frankly I need to take a step back from thinking that external pressures like a weigh-in or a blog post is going to influence my decisions.  I don't like that on this blog, when you look at the label cloud on the left hand side, "weight loss" is one of the most used labels.  Weight loss isn't who I am.  I am a wife and a mother, a sister and a daughter.  I am a teacher, a mentor, a reader, a writer, a learner.  I love to cook and take pictures, go out with my friends and laugh until it hurts. There are things that excite me, scare me, calm me, inspire me.  I am more than weight loss.

Here is to not going insane.  

Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts. ~Winston Churchill

I have dreamed about writing this blog post....for a long while. I never really got very far into writing it in my dream, but I imagined myself sitting down to write it, and it is finally here.

I am proud to say that at my weigh-in tonight, I lost 3 pounds.  And with that loss, I officially have lost a total of 100 pounds.

It has not been easy.  It has been a humbling, and at times, a humiliating journey.  There have been times I have wanted to give up.  There are times I did give up.   If you had asked me 2 1/2 years ago if I was going to be able to do it, I would have probably said, "Doubtful."  But somewhere, somehow, I found the courage and the strength to keep going.  I have beat myself and forgiven myself more than I can even remember.  But I did it....and I am not done yet.

But before I get too far ahead of myself, I want to celebrate a little.

I have lost 100 pounds.  It is crazy to think that I probably wouldn't be able to actually carry a 100 pound weight very far, but that I was carrying that every single day on my body.

I have lost 100 pounds.  And I have lost the hurt and shame I felt when I carried that 100 pounds with me.

I have lost 100 pounds.  It is easier to see myself; not just in the mirror but the what is really in my heart.

I have lost 100 pounds and it feels amazing.

"The miracle isn't that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start." -John Bingham

Today, in between shucking more than 100 ears of corn, I decided to go for a run.  You know, like a put-on-tennis-shoes-and-go-faster-than-walking kind of a run.  Anyone that really knows me knows that never have I uttered the words, "I'm going to go for a run." That being said, those exact words came out of my mouth on purpose.

I have been thinking about starting running for awhile.  I have a few friends that run and they can't get enough of it.  I have looked into the Couch to 5K program a couple of times online..even going as far as to download an app for my phone, but have never started.  Finally, the other day I just decided that this weekend was going to be the weekend.

I decided I probably needed some new shoes since the last pair I got were over 2 years old.  While I was at it, I asked a friend for a good recommendation for sports bras to help support the girls.  I braved the local running store downtown and walked away a couple of hundred dollars poorer, but with a refreshing feeling that I might just be able to do it.  

And I did.  The Couch to 5K program is set out to help a person ease into it.  Today was week one, day one and I had a 5 minute walking warm up, with then 8 alternating 60 second run and 90 minute walk.  I stretched really well before I went outside with my wicking shirt and pants, and listening closely to Delores (the name of the lady that lives in my phone).  I ran when I was supposed to run and walked when I was supposed to walk. I didn't really feel like I was out of breath at any point nor did I want to quit.  How very strange.

We will see what the next few days brings, but I am excited at the possibilities of finding a new way to exercise. I am keeping hopeful and am lucky that I have Joe to not only encourage me to run, but is willing to juggle schedules to make it happen.  I am still in a bit of disbelief..I ran today.  On purpose.  And nothing was chasing me.

"...and when you exhale, release the thoughts and feelings that do not serve you..." ~My yoga instructor

Hi.  My name is Jodie and I can be my own worst enemy.

They (who ever "they" are) say that the first step in overcoming a problem, is admitting you have one.  The above statement, I guess, is my admission.  

I think we all have that little voice in our head.  I seem to have several.  One is really sarcastic...I mean really sarcastic.  That particular voice likes to spend more time than reasonable on stating the obvious, mostly on things around me that I find annoying.  I kind of like that voice, but would be embarrassed if all of the sudden someone walked by me with a super-power that made it so everyone else could hear it.  I suppose that means I should probably work on quieting that voice. (That voice just spoke up...and I am not telling you what it said.)  

Another voice, one I like much less than the previous one, sounds an awful lot like my mother (a coincidence I am sure).  And unlike the previous voice that focuses it's attention on the outside, this voice focuses much more on me.  In general, it is the voice that tells me I am not good enough, I am not smart enough and people don't like me. Who knew I had Stuart Smalley's biggest naysayer living in my head? I am sure we all have a voice like this inside of ourselves to varying degrees.

The last voice, is a fairly recent addition to the jumbled mess.  At this point, I can only describe it best as a whisper.  It's main job seems to mainly be to tell the previous voices to kindly shut up.  I like this voice and would like it to get louder.  I have been trying to encourage this voice more but it wasn't until I was sitting in yoga one Saturday morning that it was clearly defined for me.

We were working on breathing techniques and meditation.  When I first started taking yoga, I was mostly looking for an exercise that I wouldn't hate and didn't realize that there were things, like breathing techniques and meditation, that would help with other parts of my well-being.  Anyway, we were sitting there and the instructor said something that for some reason switched something in my brain.  She said, "...and when you exhale, release the thoughts and feelings that do not serve you..."

Brilliant.

I know that I have heard and read more than my fair share of Oprah-like advice about letting go of things and quieting the voices in my head.  I know that all that negative self-talk about weight loss, or work, or friendships, or...or....or....or needs to stop.  I know that too many times I have sabotaged myself with my own voices.  But for some reason, on that day, in that moment there was some clarity for me.

Since that day, the whispered voice is gaining some ground.  And instead of filling my brain with more words, all I hear is "Breath. Serve yourself."  It is enough to stop the other voices and reframe my thinking.  There have been little reminders since then that have shown me how important it is to do this. They truthfully have probably always been there, I am just more likely to notice them now.

They say that old habits die hard. The upside?  Old habits can die.  I would imagine the same could be said for old voices.

Hiking the M...it wasn't pretty, but I did it!

This is the view that I saw on a Saturday morning, not too long ago, as I stood at the bottom of Mt. Sentinel in Missoula.  For those of you that might not know, Mt. Sentinel is the mountain that borders the University of Montana and is also home of the big "M" that can be seen for miles around.  The "M" is 620 feet up from where I took this picture.  In my six years living in Missoula, I never once climbed to the "M".

There were a couple different reasons for that.  First of all, I was pretty much terrified when I first arrived at college...and by "first arrived" I mean my whole entire first year.  I don't remember specifically what my reasoning was, but I am sure that it had something to do about how it was unsafe.  Then after a few years, it was just something I would have admitted to not doing.  I mean, who had not been up to the "M" by their junior year?

By my junior year, I had been lucky enough to have spent two summers at back home in Shelby, where it was pointed out in a constant reminder how much weight I had gained.  For the record, it was hardly anything...the typical freshman 15.  But by the time I started my junior year of college (which was when I met some of my dearest friends and my husband) I was convinced that I was huge and fat and there wasn't any physical way I would actually make it up to the "M" without going into cardiac arrest before the first switchback.  From there, I stopped even considering it and when Joe and I left Missoula in the fall of 2000, I left without having climbed the "M".  So, when I was making my list I decided that enough was enough.  I was going to climb that damn mountain.

In my trip preparations, I had talked to my friend Chris about my must-do's when in Missoula.  Unlike the last time I was there when my list of must-do's was nothing but a long list of restaurants I wanted to go to, this time I only had two things: weigh-in and hike the "M".  Chris, being the awesome person he is, offered to go with me.  So, the day before Joe, Taelin and I were supposed to fly back to Oregon, I left Taelin and Joe sleeping soundly, put on my tennis shoes, climbed in Chris' car and stood at the bottom of this mountain.

Let me just say that I made it up there.  Let me also say that it was hard for me....really hard.  Some of the switchbacks were so steep that I had to stop often because my legs were burning or my heart was pounding or I was out of breath...okay, in reality, most of the time when I stopped it was because of ALL of those things at the same time.  Nevertheless, I made it.  It was a good thing that Chris was there.  I don't think I would have kept going if it weren't for him.  And he might not know this (if I had to bet I would bet he does) but there were a couple times that after stopping, resting and starting again there were a few tears on my part because I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to do it.  But I did...and here is the proof.

And, other than being able to say that I had done it and checking it off the list...here was my reward....

Spoons (and my opinion of anything closely related to chicken salad)

It was the first day after school was done and the sun was shining.  Taelin had one last day in daycare until she was home with me for the summer and I had cleaned the house a bunch the night before so that I could truly have a day to myself.  What a gift!

With all the possibilities a day to myself had to offer, I knew lunch out with a friend was at the top of the list.  Once landing on a time, our attention turned to a much more significant question of "where"?  A few favorites were thrown out as ideas, as was a little bistro (I think it is safe to call it a bistro) called Spoons.  Since I had been neglecting my blog for so long, I jumped at the chance to go somewhere new and off to Spoons we went.

We got there before the lunch rush, but for some reason I felt the need to rush when trying to decide what to order.  A bad idea when somewhere new.  As we stood at the counter, I scanned the menu looking for something that wasn't going to be completely unhealthy. I saw...bed of lettuce, shredded chicken, dried cranberries, celery, pecans, dressing...perfect.  A salad, with chicken...just hold the pecans, dressing on the side. Good choice made.

Except that when I went to order and asked for no pecans and the dressing on the side the guy taking my order said, "We can't really because is it all mixed in."  At this point, I should have said, "Oh, ok...let me take a look again" and let the person behind me order.  But I didn't....in an attempt to not be a problem, hold up the line, and look like a picky idiot I just said, "Oh...okay, no problem."  I ordered an iced tea to drink and my friend and I headed outside to sit at a table.

My friend and I launched quickly into a conversation, trying to catch up since the last time we had seen each other and I had almost forgotten what I order until the waiter came outside.  Then I saw it.  A huge pile of chicken salad on top of some lettuce.  You know, the kind of chicken salad that just is a bunch of ingredients that separately are good but are ruined by being all smashed together only to be stuck together by some unidentified gooey something, usually something mayonnaise based. (If you haven't guessed by now, this is where my opinion of chicken salad comes in.)

Needless to say, I tried it but I couldn't really enjoy it.  I had no idea how to even go about calculating the Weight Watcher points because I had no way of knowing how much of anything was in the chicken salad.  I picked around it, ate some of it along with the lettuce but all in all was hungry in the end.  I can't blame this on Spoons at all, it was all my fault.  I will say that after this experience, I remember that I really dislike going to places that aren't fast food but still have you order at the counter.  If a restaurant has any kind of a menu at all that is not order-by-number, I need a chance to look at.  Still not their fault.

Luckily, my lunch companion more than made up for my own ordering mistake.  The good conversation and friendship was really what I was looking for.  She really enjoyed her sandwich which had pesto and mozzarella..and maybe tomatoes?!?  I am going to have to go back with her again and do things a little differently.

So my lesson learned from this....grab a menu and step aside.  Read CAREFULLY.  Don't worry about who is waiting on you or for you. (this last one is easier said than done).

Yoga Translated Is Actually "Sore Muscles"...just so you know

It is no secret to anyone that knows me even a little that exercise is not my thing.  When I was a kid my legs and feet were all jacked up which made me the kid that couldn't run or skip.  I often found myself standing alone when teams were being picked for whatever barbaric game we had to play in gym...Red Rover and dodgeball were my least favorites.  I wasn't good at it so why on earth would I do more of it?  As some kids played sports, like baseball and basketball, I read and played the piano.

Reading and playing piano were great things to do, but they certainly didn't help keep my body healthy in terms of exercise.  As I gained weight, it became more difficult to do anything without pain so then I just didn't, which had it's own consequences.  I have tried lots of things...walking I can do, but to be honest it is kind of boring unless I am walking with a friend which isn't always possible.  I tried Tae Bo when it first came out and I kind of liked it but again, I hurt too much afterwards.  And one time, I glanced in the mirror and realized how much of an idiot I looked like and that was the end of Tae Bo.  Gyms have collected my money without really needed to serve me because I stopped showing up after awhile.  I could go on and on...my point is, I haven't found something I like.

Back in college, Joe took a yoga class because the Dr. had suggested that it would help his back.  He had injured it (playing paintball I think) and it had been causing him some trouble ever since.  He had enjoyed it but hadn't really stuck with it long term.  I remembering thinking at the time that maybe that would be something I could do without hurting and looking like an idiot.  So when I was making my list, I decided to take yoga class.  I finally landed on a Saturday morning class. It was a beginners level 1 class taught by the woman that started the yoga place.

Because I am a planner, I decided to Google "what to expect yoga class".  Bad idea.  The first article I open up leads with, "You may have some anxiety about your first yoga class, but what to wear shouldn't create extra anxiety."  WHAT!?!  Up until that point, I hadn't even thought I was supposed to anxious about the class, let alone what I was going to wear. But guess what, I was now.  So, I read some more to find out the proper attire and went off the to the store to get what I needed, including a yoga mat.

I had what I needed and Saturday morning I left Joe and Taelin on the couch watching Dora the Explorer and went off the class.  Joe was probably so thankful that the class had finally come because he was tired of listening to me get all weird and strange about the whole thing.  As I was driving, I thought about all the things that I had figured could go wrong.  Here is just a little sampling...  "What if I get in behind a really hairy guy with short shorts?"  "What if I get so relaxed I fart?"  "What if I lose my balance and fall over, creating a domino effect for everyone in the class?"  Can you see why Joe was probably just glad to have me go already?

I finally pull up to the yoga place (I am sure there is a name for it) and parked my car and went in.  First thing I find out is that the lady who does the beginners class is gone for the morning and Josef will be subbing.    I tell the lady that I was a yoga virgin and don't have a clue.  I decided to not share my whole "virgin" analogy I had created in my head and just nicely ask for help.  She sends me off with a couple of yoga blocks that look like bricks, 2 blankets, and what can best be described as a belt.  Umm...it was at this point that I decided completely abandon the virgin analogy, for what is hopefully obvious reasons.

I roll my mat out and just start watching everyone else, hoping that I won't be the only clueless one.  And then in walks Josef.  I want to say for the record that stereotypes are too often used to judge when there is more to the picture.  With that said, Josef walks in and he looks like every male yoga instructor I have even seen in a movie or read about in a book.  He had long gray hair pulled back in a ponytail and a thick German accent.  He was wearing a bright yellow shirt (which my research had said was a no-no) and those wind pants that people wore all the time in the '80's.  All I kept thinking was..."Oh god.  Please leave the pants on.  Please don't let their be tiny short shorts underneath.  Please leave your pants on."  Looking back now I don't know why the heck I cared, but I did.  Luckily, Josef left his pants on and turned on some soft music and began telling me all about how I haven't ever really breathed until then.

The class was only supposed to be about an hour, but two hours later I walked out of the building to my car feeling the most relaxed I have in ages.  I certainly stretched muscles I didn't know I had and I couldn't do it all, but that was okay.  It was truly a beginners class and I was concentrating so hard on what I was trying to do that I didn't even notice anyone else...which means that nobody was probably noticing me either. I am really, really sore today, the day after the class, but I made it through and am even thinking about going back, which is saying something.

I am no longer a yoga virgin.  I didn't fall over and I didn't fart.  Everyone kept their pants on. Yoga success.  Oooommmmmm......