14 Days And One Piddly Pound

I decided a few weeks ago (unofficially - seeing as I didn't share it with anyone but my mom) that I wanted to hit 150 pounds of weight loss by the wedding. Seeing as the wedding is two weeks from today and I've just hit 149 as of this morning...I think it's totally do-able! WOOHOO!

After that, it's just 30 pounds to go -- and there's no deadline on that -- it'll come. I know it.

In other news, I've experienced another major "shrink" over the past three weeks. Here are the numbers:

• Down another 1/4 inch in my upper arms (6 inches total loss)
• Shrunk a half inch in my chest (9.5 inches total loss)
• Burned another 1/4 inch in my chest (8.25 inches total loss)
• Lost another half inch in my saddle bags (13.75 inches total loss - clearly, I am a pear!)
• Obliterated a full inch from my belly (16.5 inches of total loss - holy shit!)
• Even lost another half inch in my thighs (14.5 inches of total loss)

The rest of my body is 'unchanged', but all told, I've lost 96.15 total inches since November 2009.

I predict my final stop with the tape measure will tally up somewhere around the 115-125 inch mark, cumulatively...but I am definitely in the homestretch...er, homeshrink!

Now, off to do some pilates/yoga with Ellen Barrett...or maybe some kettlebells.

I Love New York ... Again

When I left New York for a better and simpler life four years ago, I was fat (and I hadn't even gained my last 85 pounds yet), out of shape, a pack a day smoker and in complete denial about all of it.

To say I am a wholly different person today is an understatement...and how I feel when I'm there is too.

When I left, I was done being who I was. I blamed the city for getting me to that low, but it was me who allowed "the city" to take its toll. I allowed work to take precedence over my health. I allowed my laziness to supersede all else. I allowed myself to come last. I let my personal life fall to pieces. I did this.

There are as many lifestyle choices in New York as there are neighborhoods. I chose what I chose, the stereotypical television production behind-the-scenes slob approach, but I could have easily have chosen to do the whole vegan/Bikram/farmer's market/bike lane approach, too. I probably would choose some of that now...and it makes me wonder...not with an ounce of regret, mind you, but wonder...

This weekend, Gabe and I went down to the city for what we called his "Groom's Gift Weekend". We stayed in Midtown (for shame! I know, I know...but we got a great deal on a hotel and it was close to the 7 train) and went to a Mets/Yankees Subway Series game at Citi Field. We ate, we walked, we walked some more and we ate. It was glorious and fun -- and a little bittersweet.

I like New York when I'm feeling good. I wish I had more years there when I did. I wish I had spent less money getting myself fat and more on having fun. (Actually, I wish I'd saved more money...but who doesn't look back on their 20's and say that?) Walking from 40th and 5th to Columbus Circle, through the Park and back was easy and fun. Walking up and down countless subway steps didn't leave me huffing and puffing for breath. Walking every inch of Citi Field was awesome...especially after stopping over at Shake Shack and blowing my diet for the day. I felt alive and invigorated, clear-headed and open to the city like I had back in 2000 when I first moved there and lost a gaggle of weight.

Again, I have no regrets -- all roads I chose led me to where I am now and I am stronger, better and happier for it. Still, I do wonder what my life in New York could have been like had I not chosen Haagen Dasz over a NYSC membership, or a nightly 3-6 Stella Artois over a single Skinny Girl Margarita. There's no doing it over again and there's no use in going down that mental rabbit hole, but I am grateful to have had this past weekend to remind me in a very real way of how far I have come and how far I have to fall should I ever lose my way again.

There Will Always Be 'Fat Days'

Last week was another plateau weight-wise, although I did continue to lose inches and I ate right and exercised like my life depended on it.

However...

I accidentally - or absentmindedly - sabotaged myself by over-consuming a lot of extra wheat. I'm not completely allergic, but I am very sensitive and can only tolerate a nominal amount in my diet. Turns out, a cereal Gabe bought that was labeled as an 'oat' cereal also contained metric butt-tons of wheat. (Dumbass me didn't even bother to read the label - something I usually do!) Add to that the soy sauce I had with a few dinners and the Morningstar Farms Chik'n Patties I had with a few lunches (both of which are hidden wheat sources) and my internal ecosystem went kablooey! At first, I had no idea what had happened to me - and then, after a second day of it, I went all Perry Mason and was horrified at how blind I was to what I was actually eating. 

Ugh.

So, for about five straight days, I've been varying degrees of bloated, fatigued and bleh. Even though I haven't gained a single ounce - and have likely even lost weight once all of this excess water finds its way out of me - I feel so fat, so ugly, so out of shape and so gross. Oh, and it did a number on my skin too. Yay.  

What's really weird is that - even though I'm technically smaller - when I feel like this in my head, what I see in the mirror reflects more of what I'm feeling than actual reality. I'm looking at the same body, only I see a much fatter me. Every imperfection has a spotlight on it and I feel like total crap about myself. 

Fortunately, I have 143 pounds of loss to shore me up and I have been able to rationalize my brain out of the self-loathing vortex (for the most part). I also find that once I've worked out - so long as it's a good session - I feel a lot better psychologically and am less apt to look into the mirror with cellulite-colored glasses. 

I guess there will always be 'fat days', no matter how far down the scale I slide! At least I have plenty of experience in dealing with them and now, I have a closet full of considerably smaller clothing to remind me that it's all in my friggin' head. 

Another Day, Another Dress Exchange

As expected, I had to exchange my cocktail dress ... again. The 14W was just too big...and that's the smallest 'Plus Size' there is.

So, yesterday, I boldly went where my behind hasn't gone since the turn of the century -- to the regular size rack!

Yep, lucky for me, the dress I chose is available in both Plus and Regular sizes. Thank you Calvin Klein.

I figured I'd wind up in a 14 regular. Good enough for me to do the happy dance. Only, they didn't even HAVE a 14 regular. (I called ahead and the saleslady who said they did either lied or sold it to someone else - bitch.)

But they DID have a 12.

Ugh.

I was reluctant to even try it on. I mean, come on, I had purchased an 18 just a few weeks ago and that fit...still, it was my only choice. That, or find another dress entirely.

So, off to the dressing room I trudged.

I'm not going to lie and say it was a picnic to put on. I've still got some shrinking to do in order to make it look 'right' - but holy crap! It fit. I wasn't even wearing Spanx and it zipped all the way up in the back. Hell, I could even breathe in it.

Here's a pic of the original dress, followed by a pic of the regular  dress on a skinnier model. It's basically the same  - only it's much more fitted in the waist. I HAVE A WAIST!

...and I'm a size 12 bride! Well, I'm going to be!

Who'dathunkit?

I also exchanged the 16W Ralph Lauren cocktail dress I got as a backup/honeymoon outfit. Another 12. It's not the same dress, but it's similar, only it's VERY snug, VERY hot pink, V-E-R-Y form-fitting and not quite ready for prime time either...so, off to the gym I go. Elliptical, time to work your ass-shrinking magic!

I don't expect I'll be making any more exchanges and that's actually a big stress reliever for me too. There just aren't any decent seamstresses available at the height of wedding season. I want this dress to be done!

On a quick side note: I've all but banished the color black from my wardrobe. Anyone who knows me and anyone who's ever been supremely heavy will know how big of a milestone this is. I have one black tank top left, a black and white blouse and one black pair of slacks. Everything else is bright red, pink, green, orange, magenta, yellow. It's great to feel confident enough to stand out from the crowd!