Running through the Snow ...

Today's run started in a flurry, literally. Light snow was falling as I began my 8-mile run. It was pretty while it lasted, as was the red-breasted hawk who stopped along the ICC path for a rest while I was running by.

It was one of a host of new experiences this year. Like going to ICE yesterday and being able to get down to floor level to go down the two-story ice slide with no difficulty whatsoever. And being able to straddle a fence and slip right over the other side in one fluid motion. Both were firsts for me.

On Tuesday, a former coworker visited work. His first word was, "Wow!" Followed by "Why did you change?" He asked if there was a boyfriend, his assumption as to why I would change so drastically. I told him it was a decision to stop being the way I was; I was tired of being overweight and didn't want to stay in the same place with the lack of mobility and limited enjoyment of life it involved.

On Wednesday, I was surrounded by a group of women who knew me from years ago. Their questions were more along the lines of, "What is your secret?" I answered with the truly honest response: "Eating less and exercising more. For a long time."

Some milestones are easier to see--taking 5 minutes off of a 5k time, which I did in November. At other times, the progress is almost painstakingly slow--losing a total of 5 lbs over three months.

The past few weeks, there have been moments of going back in time. On a trip out of town, visiting a Christmas museum, certain items triggered a host of memories of Christmases past. They were pleasant memories, but ones I didn't even realize I still had. Then I went to decorate a house with another family, who played the same Christmas music I listened to as a kid. Decorating with the children reminded me so much of the best parts of Christmas past.

This week, I was in a meeting at work, frustrated by the topic of conversation. I knew how I used to respond to such things, how much progress I've made, but also how much I still want to make. It was like seeing the flow of my life in one moment: past, present, and future.

Then, I was in a dance lesson. Learning to dance feels very much like the last frontier. I'm not always 100% at home in my new skin. Dancing requires a different kind of movement and fluidity than running, biking, or swimming. It's the final integration of all the successes. In that lesson, I was regularly struggling for balance after turns. For a moment, I saw truly why I was struggling so much--the image in the mirror was me 100 lbs ago. I realized it was only a temptation, a fleeting image, and a reason as to why some things are still so difficult. 

Sometimes the past tries to come back, whether it's a bad eating habit, a memory, or simply because of a lack of current progress. In those moments, the key for me has been to realize that it truly is a temptation and it comes from a place in which there is no good.

December 2013

So in this season of Advent, it seems I'm taking a walk down memory lane while fighting to make physical and spiritual progress. Both are wars, with many individual battles along the way. I've lost a skirmish or two so far, but I know that the approach of Light itself with help me find the path to a stronger me by Christmastide. And, in celebrating an easy-to-see victory, here are the year-after-year images of me in mid-December.

December 2014

Zipping to a Ball and Zombies

I love October, with its pumpkin scents and flavors, colorful changes of leaves, and cooler temperatures. This year, the month has had a surprising number of firsts working alongside some more familiar activities.

 

I completed the annual pilgrimage to Markhoff's Haunted Forest, which for the uninitiated is a wonderful half-mile haunted trail in the middle of the woods in the middle of nowhere in Maryland. It supports a charity that allows kids to have outdoor experiences they otherwise wouldn't. I have been experiencing Markhoff's for more than a decade with various friends and family members each year. What I had never done, and what I had eyeballed last year, but decided I wasn't in good enough shape to do, was the zip line.





This year, 50 lbs lighter than the last time I'd seen Markhoff's, I zipped my way across the waiting area, grassy knolls, and haunted portable toilets to my destination, an extremely slippery wood ramp (which was the most dangerous part). The zip line coordinator was dressed like Luke Skywalker and was a lovely young man by the name of Matt, who teaches kids how to use the zip line every day. He was very impressed that I chose Markhoff's for my first experience and that I was the only one from my group doing it. The guy at the end congratulated me for only briefly screaming at the beginning, when I took the first step off the perfectly sound and solid wooden platform into thin air. I was just fine when the slack disappeared and the harness engaged, and it was a delightful experience from then on ...



The second first this October (yes, I meant to say that) was going to a ball in DC. I had done a number of dress-up events while in college and one or two times professionally since then, but not in at least five or six years. I took advantage of the opportunity to try on dresses at all levels of dress shops. The most expensive dress I tried on was more than $900. The dress I bought was the only one that didn't need to be altered. It was also the only dress I tried on that made me say "I look good in this dress" rather than "this dress looks good." I even got updated makeup and other odds and ends to finish off the whole experience. I had a lovely time dancing, chatting with friends, making new friends, and just enjoying the live music and the atmosphere.

Zombies making lively music!

The third first was going on a Zombie fun run. Yes, I can now say I can run a 5K for fun. It was put on by the local running shop and featured volunteers, character actors, and makeup artists from Markhoff's. Some of the runners ran in costume, but the biggest treat was running around the Kentlands neighborhood with the yards all decked out for Halloween. We ran past many a garden graveyard, Grim Reaper, and inflatables of all kinds before being attacked by zombies on the misty lake path. A great time was had by all!

No, I didn't feel like a bag of bones at the end of triathlon night!

Not only that, it was the first stop on triathlon night tonight. I ran the race, biked 11.5 miles, and swam 36 laps before the pool closed. And then went home and had enough prepared food in the fridge to feed myself and a guest dinner without it being a big deal. Those who know me from times past know just how rare this is ...



The final first will be whatever Halloween costume I select, or that selects me as the case may be. I am going to treat myself to something I could never wear before. But being as the clothing budget has been stretched by the colder weather, I will be seeing what's on sale on Friday. Pirate princess? Wonder Woman? Lady of the Lake? One thing is certain, the giant pink gorilla costume is not on the menu this year, though it was an excellent companion to my nephew's Winnie the Pooh outfit for Halloween in 2010. I'm curious to see what the morrow brings ....

Do I Know You?

Tonight, I had another common uncommon experience. It's an uncommon experience for most, but getting very common for me.

I went to a different indoor swim center than usual because it was the one county facility that was still open by the time I got off from work. One of the big growing pains of this year was learning how to swim laps in Januafy. For some reason, I found this terrifying at first, even though I grew up with a pool in the backyard when I was a kid. I know I will never drown in any body of water unless I hit my head or go hypothermic, but still, swimming like that initially made me nervous.

Part of the concern, at the beginning, was that I was treading the line of triggering my exercise induced asthma regularly. The key for me to avoiding an asthma attack and three days of plague-like coughing is to breathe in a regular pattern, no matter how strenuous the exercise. Breathing irregularly was the enemy, and one that crept up on me with every lap until I got used to it. At first, I could only do 2-4 laps before stopping. Preparing for the triathlon involved working my way up to swimming 20 laps without stopping to regularize my breathing, which I managed just before the event in February (by working 4 laps without a break, then 6, then 8, then 10, then 15, then 20).

Tonight, I was experiencing a different kind of new ... trying to learn how to breathe every other stroke instead of every stroke. I quickly realized that I was moving much faster through the water, using more oxygen, but breathing less often. So, I wound up going back to the method of stopping more frequently to regularize my breathing again. A temporary setback for a greater reward, and quite the workout.

My focus was solely on improving my swimming. I paid little attention to those swimming around me, though I briefly noticed that I was outswimming the man in the lane next to me.

After my 40 laps, I was headed to the hot tub (er, "hydrotherapy pool" to be politically correct) when the guy who had been in the lane next to me said, "My, you are a fast swimmer." As soon as I heard his voice, I knew it. I looked at him and said, "You don't recognize me, do you?" He said, "Do I know you?" To which I responded, "Well, you should. I was your manager. But that was over 100 pounds ago."

He looked confused, so I mentioned work, and he came to a complete stop, then remarked, "Wow! Congratulations!" A 45 minute conversation ensued involving his construction work, what had changed at my work and in my personal life, and then turned to fitness topics. He was at the pool for the first time in several years because he was trying to get into better shape. He kept remarking how "it's no accident that I found you here tonight ..."

He listened to the story of my past 15 months, asked questions about how I got where I am, and started sharing stories of days past--the swim team he was on as a kid, his brother-in-law completing triathlons in his sixties, and how much easier it was for him to walk when he was forty pounds lighter. All of which had resulted in his desire to get in better shape and brought him to the swim center that night.

Before he left, he reflected on my role as a manager and paid me one of the best compliments I have ever received, "You were always fair and consistent. You were respectful and honest. You stood out because of that." We parted as friends after he showed off the dream car he just purchased and his new skateboard.

So, the common part for me is that people I know (and, in some cases, worked with for years) don't always recognize me these days. What's uncommon is that I have that experience at all, let alone regularly. I am always grateful for it because I recognize that getting here has been an act of grace and much hard work. It is also humbling to be a light for others and food for their journey. Rock on!

A Chill in the Air ...

It's mid-September. The weather, while not actually cold, has definitely turned its back on summer and is migrating quickly toward fall.

I just cleaned out my closet for the third time in 15 months. This time, it's almost all clothing I purchased within the past year. With some remorse, I let go of the first date outfits I purchased last fall. After losing the first 50 pounds or so, I finally felt like starting to explore the world of dating again after a hiatus of quite a few years. The time taken off was well-spent making myself financially and emotionally whole before inviting anyone else into my life. And in the fall of 2013, I had also made myself physically fit "enough" to start feeling attractive again.

So, it was with some regret that those clothes found their way to goodwill. Along with them went my entire collection of fall and winter jackets that are now at least three to four sizes too big. I'm focusing on the blessing those coats will be to those in need and trying not to worry about replacing them. This fall, I'll probably pick a few items out of a goodwill store for myself, as I won't be in my final size until the depth of winter at least.

And that's something most people don't tell you: it's expensive to lose weight.* You have to replace your wardrobe every couple of months without hope that the clothing will make it to the next season.  Or, you have to make a rather hard decision and tell yourself, "I've worked incredibly hard to look so much better, but I can't yet reward myself with a complete makeover because I'm not done yet. So, I'll only buy a few things to tide me over until I hit the next size ..."
*The flip side is, you get some of the money back if you keep an itemized list of what you give away. I increased my tax return last year by several hundred dollars due to the overall value of my clothing donations.

Every time you shop, you're not quite sure where you'll fit in. It's easier now that I'm in regular sizes and there are more choices, but the sheer number of choices are overwhelming. I've really never been much of a clothes horse. It is starting to be fun to experiment with new textures, fabrics, and styles that I simply couldn't wear before. But, sometimes, that in itself is overwhelming because I haven't been able to wear them before in my adult life and I'm not sure what to try (and, in some cases, how to wear different styles). I started out 15 months ago in a women's size 22-24. I'm now a size 8. That's a lot of change in a short time, and it's not done yet.

And that's another piece that's odd about this process. It's actually somewhat sad. It's sad when you look in your closet and don't have clothing to wear. Really, this isn't an excuse. I have exactly one pair of casual pants that fit. Apart from them, I have been in shorts and capris all summer. The weather is turning cold, and replacements must be found. For me, it's a little stressful. But it's a good kind of stress because it's stretching me to do and be more than I was before and try new things.

For some women, letting go of the old clothes is letting go of the old person. And that's why they'll hesitate to get rid of the clothes. A lot of my clothes have gladly been shed, especially some uniform clothing from a direct sales job I had before my current job, but there are a few notable exceptions.

There are four items of clothing I cannot part with. At least, not yet. The first two are the tank top and shorts that I've used to photograph the entire journey. They must stay for "documentary" purposes. The next is my work belt, in which a friend has dutifully punched holes as I've changed sizes. It now wraps halfway around my body.

Last, and most important, is a gift from someone who had "outgrown" it in the opposite direction, and a far nicer item of clothing than I would have purchased for myself at the time. It's a rather pretty blue, green, and black checked dress blouse. Why is it the most important item? When I was a choir director, it was the top of choice, paired with a black skirt, that I wore for most weddings and funerals. It is dressy enough to be worn without a jacket, is not limited by season, and is lightweight enough to be comfortable if the heat was cranked too high and long sleeved if the A/C was too low. But, above all else, for me it is a living link to my participation in those sacraments. I took it out of the closet and immediately remembered so many liturgies, so many families, so many brides.

Most particularly, I remembered Sam. Sam was about 15 months old when he died, which is about how long it's taken me to "reshape" my life so far. Sam always had health problems, and his family was grateful to have him for as long as they did. It was a small funeral, just immediate and extended family, perhaps thirty people in total. I knew I was singing for a saint.* And at that Mass, I knew that Sam was helping me sing for his family, trying to help them understand that while they were grieving, he was safe, happy, loving them, and acting on their behalf. I've often prayed to Sam in the years since his funeral and he has helped me, too, many times.
* I always considered it a privilege to sing for the children who died, as Catholics believe that baptized children who die before the age of reason (7 years) immediately go to heaven. With a young parish, we had several of these funerals, as well as funerals for miscarried children.

While I've made it a practice to get rid of the old clothes that could give me permission to go back to the old me, this one scrap of satin-like fabric will remain as a reminder of Saint Sam and the best part of my old life. And that's a warm thought on this chilly night.

104 Pounds to 104 Miles

May 8, 2013 began the start of a new journey in my life. One that I had jumpstarted once or twice before, but never with a realistic hope of success. Until now.

I was more than 255 pounds and more than one doctor said, “While you don’t have weight-based health problems now, you will in a few years, and by then it will be harder to make a change.” So, the day after my birthday, I began a lifestyle change that resulted in more than 100 pounds of weight loss.

Cherry Blossom Time, April 2013

The first five months involved really restricted dieting, disciplining my mind and appetite, retraining all of the “helpful” people around me, and walking 10,000 steps a day, every day. The modified diet was protein and vegetables with limited fruit, and nutritional supplements to make sure I didn’t wreck my body during the stunningly quick weight loss. During this time, I learned how much my emotions fluctuated when I ate heavily processed carbs and how freeing it was not to eat them. The second key learning was that while people would offer me food two and three times if I simply said “no”, they wouldn’t tear at my resolve with multiple questions if I said the magic phrase, “I’m not eating that right now because of medical reasons.” The third key was that if I remembered what something tasted like, I could enjoy the memory without actually eating the food.

At the end of five months, I had lost the first 60 pounds. The company providing the nutritional supplements suddenly became very irregular in their supplement deliveries. Plus, I knew in my heart of hearts that my body was craving some real exercise.

August 2013

At a party in October, I met a triathlete coach who was also a dance instructor and a ski instructor. In the 11 months since, I have embarked on a physical fitness journey second to none.

The first big challenge was a 5K race (3.1 miles) in December that involved wearing jingle bells and Santa hats while running. I went from running a 14 plus minute mile to a 12 minute mile average for the first 5K. In January, I completed a second 5K, improving the mile time to 11 minutes a mile. During this time, I was using my 24/7 gym memberships to do cardio (mostly on a stationary bike, but sometimes on an elliptical), followed by weightlifting, followed by running 6 days per week.

December 2013, the first 5K

In late January, I started learning how to swim laps. While I had always gone swimming as a child in the pool in our back yard in the summer, I had never learned how to breathe for competitive swimming and this was a totally new challenge. One that I mastered well enough to complete a sprint distance triathlon in late February.

Completing the sprint triathlon in February 2014

Concurrently with the running and the triathlon, I also learned to ski. My first ski lesson was December 20, 2013. Due to a new program at the ski resort for first-time skiers, I qualified for an inexpensive second lesson and 40% off lift tickets with free lessons for the remainder of the season if I purchased the pass that day. Fourteen trips later, I had worked my way from the bunny slope through the green slopes, the blue slopes, my first black diamond slope, and the terrain park. I finally skied a double black diamond slope late in the season and was the only student to do so without falling in that particular lesson. On a proficiency scale of 1-8 (8 being skiers qualified for professional membership), I finished at a 6 in my first season.

Once ski season was done, biking season began. I used my first stock option bonus from work to purchase a quality cyclocross bike, which can function both as a road bike (light frame with dropped handlebars) and as a mountain bike (knobby tires that can ride gravel trails). Two days after the bike arrived, I completed a 10K (6.2 mile run) with an average mile time of 11 minutes a mile and then went on a 20-plus mile bike ride to look at the cherry blossoms in DC. A week after that, I went on an 87.5 mile loaded camping trip over the course of two days, travelling 37.5 miles the first day up the C & O Canal trail and camping overnight at the Turtle Run campground (which is reputed to be haunted by the spirits of Civil War soldiers killed in action in the area). The Potomac River crossing happened the next day using White’s Ferry, the oldest continuously operating ferry in the US, followed by a return to Bethesda via the Washington and Old Dominion Trail, 50 miles in total.

Cherry Blossom Time, April 2014

Bikes loaded for camping

It was late April and, at the triathlete coach’s suggestion, my sights were set on completing a century bike ride by late August. From mid-June to mid-August, I averaged over 100 miles per week with exception of two weeks—the week after my first bike was stolen while I was awaiting the replacement and a week when I was sick. I started biking with a local bike club in late July to learn how bike alongside others in a group, which was a necessary skill to achieve the objective.

From mid-May to mid-August, I got involved in a weight loss fitness challenge run by a local running store. Prizes were awarded for losing 2% of your body weight, 4% of your body weight, 13.1 pounds, and 26.2 pounds. Of the 50 women who participated, I came in fourth, winning all but the last prize and also finishing ahead of the 20 men who signed up.

On August 24, 2014, I weighed more than 104 pounds less than my starting weight (105.4 to be exact) and I biked 104.5 miles in a single day. I started at 7am and finished before 4:30pm, taking advantage of the host of rest stops along the way. On the really hilly sections, I had the joy of passing experienced bikers who were walking their bikes uphill after the 70-mile mark. The day itself was beautiful and relatively mild and I appreciated all of the scenery. What I enjoyed even more was the journey: the first time I biked down the Washington and Old Dominion Trail in April; the historic and cultural 20 and 50 mile bike rides I completed; the nature trails, dams, and swinging bridges I had seen; and simply knowing that, on my own power, I had biked more than 1,000 miles in a single summer.

Going up the steepest hill of the Reston Century

With the triathlete coach, Dave Flynn at the Reston Century

On my vacation at the beach this past week, I learned how to swim in the ocean and biked more than 50 miles just for fun. Also in the fun category was wearing the type of beach clothing I could never wear before.

This article is a response to the many people who have asked, “How did you do that? What was your secret?” It was certainly two heaping portions of eating less and exercising more, with a great deal of extraordinary odyssey on the side. As I look ahead, the running store is having another fitness challenge, I hear there are some zombie-themed runs coming up next month, I’m learning to dance, and another ski season dawns.

While my lifestyle and what I am capable of has changed forever, my current relentless progress toward a healthier me will be finished by April 5^th of next year. By then, a 23-month journey will be completed. In being a shadow of my former self, I will be an even brighter light to those around me. And I can live with that.