By The Numbers...And The Other Numbers...

I asked my husband last week - when I was "having a day" - to look at photos taken of me from the last time I weighed what I do now and to tell me if I look the same. He said flatly, "No. Absolutely not." 

Incredulous - because numbers do not lie and my body dysmorphia is absolutely bananas - I insisted that I must look that way...because that's what I weigh!

But he insisted, "You do NOT look like that. Not at all. Your body, your face, none of it. You do NOT look like that."

I wanted to believe him - I really, really did. But...the guy loves me...so, he's as blind as I am. 

Right? 

Then I remembered I keep meticulous measurements and have been since 2009 - I measure myself with each weekly weigh in (arms, waist, hips, legs, bust, etc). With this information, I'd surely be able to prove him wrong...and proceed to wallow in self-pity for a while. 

But he was right! 

With the exception of my hips and calves that are only slightly larger, today's measurements align with a 30 pound lighter me from the last go-round. 

It's a lot different losing with a fitter body than with a flabby body. Glad I kept the records. It truly is about more than just pounds!!!!

I don't know how this stands to tamp down my body dysmorphia - at all - cause it's really more of a mindf**** than not...but at least it's a good one this time!  

Oh, and I am officially down 40 -- and a LOT more than that if you're counting back from the very beginning of this journey...but I'm not willing to share how much just yet. 

Ain't gettin' to 50 before vacation next Friday...but whatever. It'll be waiting to go when I return. 

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.