One month

[kagarigen]

It's September 23rd, which means it's been one month since I had that horrible, informative, epiphan-tastic visit to the doctor's.  I have no idea what I weigh right now - I feel like I've lost a lot of weight, like I've made a lot of progress.  I can measure my progress in so many terms:

• my clothes all fit so much more loosely now.  There are jeans in my closet that I could barely close before that I might be able to wear this week, and I have completely retired my last size 20 trousers because I'm afraid they'll fall off in an embarrassing fashion if I wear them. 
  
• I feel - and I think that I look - much less puffy.  My watch is now loose around my wrist, and I could zip up those ankle boots a few weeks ago.  Last night while I was brushing my teeth I noticed that there was something different around my neck; I stared and stared, and then I realized that I could just see the ghost of a collarbone under my skin.
• exercise: I made a commitment to myself to be more active, and I think I've kept it.  I never allow myself to go two days in a row without using my exercise bike, and I've walked to work and back every weekday.  I haven't taken an elevator at all, when I used to take it up to my office on the second floor - I even walked up to the fifth floor of the law building this week to drop off a paper (and the prof wasn't even in his office... grr).  I can feel myself getting stronger, fitter: I can use level 8 on the bike instead of level 5; the walk doesn't kill me.  I still get red in the face, but I recover so much more quickly... I like that.
• I've started a piggy bank.  I used to buy a lot of junk food and delivery, and it would be so easy to slip back into that again.  But I'm tired of being this big, and I also can't afford it... so whenever I'm really, really tempted to order a pizza or buy a bag of chips or something, I just go and put a dollar or two in the jar on my dresser.  I started doing this two weeks ago when I was exhausted from a long day and didn't want to cook; I almost picked up the phone to order a pizza, but then I stopped myself.  I put two dollars - about a tenth of what I would have spent - on the dresser to remind myself that I need to make better choices, and it worked.  Now I have twelve dollars up there.  I've decided to save up for a treat for myself - maybe a really nice haircut at a pricey salon or something.  Hmm...
• My wicked sugar cravings have gone.  It took about a week, and all I could think about was chocolate.  I stuck it out, and now I rarely feel tempted.  Ooooh, except now I've thought about chocolate and I really want some.  Grrr.
• resting heart rate: 64, baby!  I never had very bad stats - fine blood pressure and so forth.  But I'm clearly getting fitter.

I have had a lot of slip-ups, most of which stem from my desire to hide all this from the people that know me.  I don't want to admit that I'm trying to change myself... maybe because I don't want to admit that I think there's anything wrong with me.  My dream is for someone to look over at me some day and say "why, Karen!  You're tiny!  Have you been losing weight?"  And then I'll smile modestly and say "a little... I've lost seventy-five pounds so far.  I've got more to go, though!"  Because then I don't have to talk about it until I know I've been at least partially successful... I don't want to talk about it now and then fail; I don't want my coworkers to say "she was trying to lose weight a while ago, I don't know what happened to that".  So I try to hide it, which means that I try to blend in - have a beer, or go out for burritos, or eat junk food at the football party.  Blending in stuff.

Being open about wanting to loose weight and the things I need to do to do that was one of the things I've done wrong before.  I've never kept a journal before... I've never been in a community before.  I think it's making a big difference this time - it's keeping my honest, it's keeping me accountable.  I still haven't talked about it with my family, or my boyfriend.  I'm hoping that I've made enough progress by November when he comes to visit that his jaw will drop when I pick him up at the airport.  And then I'll make even more progress, and my family will notice when I see them at Christmas.  Once again, I won't have to talk about it until I know it's working, and no one will know if I fail.

All in all, I'm pretty proud of myself.

Pay day soon - I'm getting a scale.  The cheque comes Friday, so Saturday morning will be weigh-day.  I think I'll just get something basic and forget about fat percentages and so on - fiddly things get broken easily in my world.  I can't wait to weigh myself... I'm hoping to lose between one to two pounds per week, so if I'm down five pounds next Saturday I'll be over the moon.  I don't want to get my hopes up - if I haven't lost that much I hope I'm able to keep it all in perspective.  If I've lost more, well... I'm not even going to let myself think that.  My goal for Saturday is 243, and that's that.