On July 23rd, I was jolted. A life altering jolt.
I went to the doctor for a yearly physical…those are fun. What’s really fun is when your doctor takes a look at you, looks at your chart and states “I’m concerned about your weight, I’m concerned about your blood pressure, I’m concerned you’re pre-diabetic and I’m concerned about your history with heart disease…”
Fast forward two weeks, I’m back, for grueling results…I’m heavier than I have ever been, my resting blood pressure is too high, my cholesterol is outta sight, I’m severely anemic and I AM pre-diabetic. I was/wasn’t ready for this. She sternly looked at me and said, “you need to fix this NOW, there’s no other option.”
She put me on a gluten free, 1,000 calorie per day diet. Clean eating, she called it. She gave me a diet plan and some God-awful protein that I am to drink each day.
Our air was out, so our dear friends WarriorGirl and DynaHusband were letting us bunk with them…I realized, standing in their living room, I had hit.a.wall. I stood in their living room, looking at my wife and decided it was time to be accountable.
For the first time in six years, I broke down and told my wife my darkest secret….I told her what I weigh. What that horrible, shameful number was…she told me she loved me.
WarriorGirl walked in, I told her all of it, except the shameful number through my tears. I look up, shocked at my response to being a fat girl and said “I’m so sorry!!!! You fucking beat cancer, I’m whining because I ate too much Taco Bell…I’m a shit.” She looked at me, said “I beat it, now I am here for you.”
The daughter has told me everyday I needed it that I can do this…that she knows I can…she inspires me with her words. The notion of my grandchildren to come and her honest words, drives me forward.
The Boy, telling me how pretty I am, how his face shows worry when I stumble…when he wants to have breakfast with me and worries that I can find something to eat at McDonalds. (not easy, but I make it work)…that I can lead by example, drives me forward.
The wife, who offers me “treats” I say no, she smiles and tells me how proud she is. She will tell anyone she is proud of me. The dream of growing old with her, watching our grandchildren and living our dream…drives me forward.
Now, six weeks later, I can honestly say, I love my doctor. I love my sweet friends. I love my family. I love my life.
Six weeks ago, I started clean eating, reaaaaallly clean. No bread, no pasta, very little dairy and no refined sugar. Clean proteins, veggies, fruits and nuts/oils. And that horrible protein drink. Every day, without fail, within 15 minutes of waking up, I have drank 12 ounces of terrible protein and 18 ounces of water and a handful of vitamins, or tiny blood pressure pill and the arthritis medicine. Every day….rain or shine.
Now, six weeks later, I can honestly say, I am down 21 pounds…3 1/2 inches….and from what I can gather, one to two sizes.
I no longer have headaches, my knee is 10 billion percent better, I have more energy, my blood pressure is completely normal.
First time I went for a check up, my doctor was thrilled, she smiled, we joked…she was proud of me. It felt awesome.
No one can see it yet. I can. I see it in photos. I see it in my clothes…it’s much like a deck chair blowing off the Titanic to everyone else, but I’m beginning to notice. My food falls in my lap, not stopping at my chest. I can see my lap. We are talking gym memberships. I don’t recognize myself.
I worried it was going to be too expensive to eat right, that our grocery bill was going to explode. It hasn’t. We’ve adjusted and cook more…I eat less, so my portions are way smaller, I haven’t had seconds in 6 weeks. I can’t finish the servings my doctor has set in place for me.
I tell you this because I have to continue to hold myself accountable. I do this because I feel inspired, I feel like a new person.
For the first time, in 25 years…I feel proud of me.
For the first time, in 25 years…I love me.
Whew….that’s a mouthful.
My friends, my family, worry about where we go eat. I have learned to be a spontaneous eater…in a good way. I can find something everywhere we go. My tastes are changing. I’m more adventurous with food now, I mix things I would have never mixed before, I create salads and dishes of good stuff, from my imagination and they work. I’m excited about food, in the best way.
The wife and the boy don’t eat everything like I do….there are still chips and burgers and sugary stuff the house, but it doesn’t interest me.
And let me be fair…my system has changed…I can’t eat greasy. I can’t eat junk food or bread…it upsets my digestive system to the point the two times I have, I’ve ended up in bed, miserable.
I honestly don’t miss it. Crazy, huh?
I dream about burgers….I miss queso. Thanksgiving oughta be interesting, but I am up for that challenge.
The Stae Fair is weeks ahead of me and I have already stated, I will wreck my system for a corny dog…don’t judge me. It’s fucking Fletcher’s.
Here’s a side story…I share a lot of my life with my staff…we are a small gang of misfits…but…I shared my new diet…we had a potluck as we are prone to for any occasion…these wonderful women, followed my food plan and planned a potluck around me…for another persons birthday….on my clean eating!!!! They continue to make sure I eat right, go to restaurants I can eat at and bring me lunches I can eat. They are the goods.
I guess the moral of this story is…trust those you love. They will hold you up. They will hold you accountable. They will love you through it. Believe in you, reach for the dreams and love yourself. A lot.
I go to the doctor next week for another check up…I am no longer dreading it.
Just watch me shrink.