More than halfway

May 11th was when I had lost exactly 55.6 pounds - which was/is exactly halfway to my weight loss goal. And although I was proud of the progress that I had made in just 9 short months, I was also worried, concerned, scared, and kind of freaking out.

And so, as you've noticed, I paused. I put my weight loss on hold and decided to apply all of the things that I had learned up until that point. In doing so, I had to let go of all of the timelines I had set. I let go of some insecurities and I started to love the body I had. I felt (in some cases for the first time) all of the emotions of scared, worried, concerned and anxiety.

I concentrated on the feelings.

And then, in most cases, I released them.

I find it encouraging that I knew when I had to start loving my body. I knew that pausing was the right thing to do long term - even if it felt like a failure at times. It's almost like I was running a race and had a pain in my side. I was out breath and just needed to stop - if only for a little while.

I find it encouraging to look back at my May 11th email and realize that I no longer worry that I will gain the weight back because I *know* that I will lose it all. It may take me another year, but it will be gone. I'm so happy that I don't have those thoughts anymore.

As I shed each pound, I'm encouraged by the new identity that is emerging. My new identity feels more like me anyway.

So why am I writing all of this down here now? Well, I weighed in last night and I'm thrilled to report I'm officially over the hump. 56 pounds down puts me at more than halfway to my goal.

To continue the analogy from before, the pain in my side is gone and my breathing is back to normal.

It's time to start running again.

Doubly good

"I don't believe that you have to be a certain size or certain shape to feel sexy. My butt is just the price I have to pay for having such great tits!"
--Kellyanne Russell, contestant on Project Runway, Australia

Let me preface this by saying that I absolutely LOVE my little sister. There is not a thing in the world I wouldn't do for her. She is a fantastic person - a giver, a lover, and someone who sees the absolute best in anyone and everyone. She would NEVER do something to deliberately hurt anyone. Simply put, she's one of my favorite people in the world.

Two years ago, my younger sister had to get a troublesome lump/mass removed from her breast. It was a horrible experience for her - it was painful and was handled by doctors that were inept at best.

Less than a week after the surgery, we all met at my father's for Christmas. During this break, she was still recovering from the surgery. And it became apparent that she was very worried that the scar (and the fact that there was a divot/chunk missing on her breast) would be such a turn-off to all the guys that she was sure to date for the rest of her life. And she cried and cried and cried about it. I think it's only normal to have concerns about any scarring...but I think that for women, scars or things that look like dents in your breasts would be especially emotional.

So, to make her feel better, I made jokes (when don't I?). I said that it could be worse...she could have droopy boobs, just like me if she wanted. I'd gladly trade her for her perky boobs any day. Years of yo-yo dieting had made mine less than stellar in my eyes.

She didn't believe me.

I showed her.

And she laughed. She laughed because she had just spent a long time crying. She laughed because I prefaced it in a funny way. She laughed to relieve the stress and she laughed with relief that not everyone's boobs are perfect.

But when she laughed, inside I cried.

Now, up until that point, I've always been pretty proud of my breasts. They were always bigger than other girls' and I always felt that they made me more womanly and more attractive. Incidentally, I've never dated anyone that was completely ga-ga over them. It seems that the people that I've dated weren't boob guys at all. But alas, I digress. I guess that while I've been overweight most of my adult life, I've felt pride that at least I was proportionate.

In fact, a few years ago, I was on a type of birth control that caused my boobs to grow. That (and the weight gain) caused me to be wear a 40DDD. And in case you're a guy and stumbled on my blog, I'll just tell you, that means they're big.

Really big.

Freakishly big.

But by then, my ass had grown to Biblical proportions, so I figured everything was still balanced. And yet, when my younger fantastic sister laughed at my slightly deflated but yet somehow still gigantic boobs (a unique combination, to be sure), I started feeling even more like a freak.

From that day on, I felt more comfortable dating guys who had already been married to someone who had had kids. I mean, instead of seeing "fun bags," they were used to seeing "they used to be really fun bags but now they're just sort of fun bags" right?

These days, I'm back down to a 36DD...a size that I feel pretty darn comfortable in. And while they don't look like billiard balls at the bottom of tube socks yet, they're not that far off either.

Maybe now you can understand why going to Victoria's Secret last weekend was so much fun. This past week, I've enjoyed my boobs being perky, even if only in a lacy push-up bra. I've enjoyed them looking pretty - and I've started having more confidence in them again. It was just the sort of pick-me-up that I needed.

I've fallen back in love with my boobs - even though they're no longer pin-up material.

Because the truth is, I'm still proportionate. I'm curvy. I'm voluptuous. And with the right bra, I'm Jessica Rabbit-ish. And as BFD's post proved, there are people that wish that they could have boobs like mine even as I'm wishing that I could wear a sundress without looking like a cow that needs to be milked.

And for those interested, this past weekend I mentioned how I felt about my breasts to my boyfriend. His answer? "I love your boobs!"

It's yet another thing that we agree on these days.


P.S. Thanks to Big Fat Deal's blog that introduced me to Kellyanne's quote!

Free to be...you and me

There may be some major changes here in the near future.

All I'm asking is that you click and read my other blog's post for today. You can read it by clicking here.

Would you all still read me if I combined my blogs? That mixed in with the seriousness of this blog there were posts of humor and my general life craziness?

I'm open to any and all thoughts you might have - even if you think that they'll hurt my feelings.

Please leave a comment here, on the other blog - or write me directly at happyfunpants [at] gmail [dot] com.

Thanks.

They're just numbers (take 2)

A few weeks ago, I wrote about how I started to realize that numbers don't define me, my happiness, or my enjoyment.

Well, this past week, I lost 0.2 pounds.

I've recently realized that I don't care much about what the scale says. I'm still weighing in - mostly because it's a way to benchmark where I've been and a firm way to measure progress. But I guess as long as the general trend shows downward, I don't really care what the individual week by week losses or gains are. Basically, for me, the scale has turned into being a tool that reflects back what I already know. If I gain weight in a week, I know it for the most part. I know when I've eaten portions that are more than what I should be having. I know when I've not been exercising. And I know when I feel healthy.

The loss of "only" 0.2 indicates the extra Halloween candy I had last week while at work. It shows how I did ZERO exercise last week. ZERO! And with the boyfriend gone, I had many opportunities to exercise, but I just didn't.

I guess what I'm surprised about is that I'm not taking the weight loss personally. I'm not really tied emotionally to that number.

It used to be that when I'd have losses that were big or any gain, it immediately affected my mood. Now I just look at the numbers and am aware of what I need to do to either repeat that loss/gain or change it. It's a tool for feedback - nothing more.

It's like the average miles per gallon readout on my car. If I want to get higher MPG, I need to decrease my aggressive driving. That's it. Crying about it doesn't help. Being mad about it doesn't help and beating myself up over it DEFINITELY doesn't help.

It's data.

For me, I think that this realization is key. Now don't get me wrong, I definitely still want to reach my goal by my birthday next year. And I'd LOVE to pass the 55.6 (which is halfway to my goal) by Halloween.

I've figured out that having and reaching benchmarks are just measurable gauges that help pontificate the immeasurable changes that are going on.

Feel Good Weekend

This weekend was a pretty good weekend - all things considered.

First, I got to hang out with some friends on Friday night. It was SO good for my soul. I hung out with two ladies at one of Denver's most happening jazz clubs. We sat in a booth and got to listen to some great live jazz - and I loved every minute of it.

See, years ago I decided to date a musician - actually he was a friend of one of the ladies that I hung out with on Friday. The musician (Jon from the post a few below this one) and I had a year and a half relationship that ended when he cheated. And while I did basically nothing to deserve that treatment, it was I who was ostracized from our friends. These women are wives and girlfriends of the guys in the bands that Jon was in...so they had to remain in close contact with him.

And since I didn't want to be in contact with him, my contact with them has been limited. One of them (the one who I was friends with before) is still a friend of mine, but she's a single mom with two kids. Her life is hard to plan stuff around and basically, she does the best she can with fitting in social stuff. The other one, I mainly saw at gigs, so it's no surprise that seeing her would decrease.

ANYWAY, hanging out with them was so great. We talked about old times, about the ex's current girlfriend, and about my current boyfriend. We bopped to the music and we watched the sexiest man I have ever seen dance on the dance floor. It was fantastic.

Two highlights of the night: the husband of one of the ladies walked right past me without saying hello. I thought that maybe he was just in a hurry. About a half hour later, he came up and hugged me. I had, apparently, lost so much weight and had grown my hair out (it was SHORT when he knew me) that he didn't recognize me. How cool is that?

The second highlight was that I was hit on. And in a very "I'm looking you up and down" sort of way. I hardly ever go out into clubs or bars - mostly because that's never been my thing. So to have my first time out like that in about a year and a half to end with a guy checking me out and asking for my number was definitely a high. I'm not really sure where stuff might go with Joe and knowing that I could hold my own on a night out was definitely a plus.

Secondly, I went shopping at Victoria's Secret today. And wow oh wow did I go a little crazy.

See, I've only purchased a few bras in the last few years...and all of them were because I kept going up in size. Well, 90% of the bras I own don't fit anymore- they gape in the cup area and I have to put them on the tightest fitting around my ribs (and even then they're too big). And my underwear? Well, let's just say, MANY pairs were due to be replaced.

So when I was checking out, the sexy lady behind the counter asked if I was going on a honeymoon. And I said, "No. I just lost a bunch of weight - and it was time to get new sexy underwear." She congratulated me and it felt so good. I'm not going on a trip to love someone else...but I am loving my body.

I recognize that there are cheaper bras and undies to be bought out there. And I will definitely supplement my wardrobe with those too. But this trip to VS? It was all for me. It felt luxurious. I've wanted to do something to help me feel sexy. As my boobs are starting to droop with all the weight loss, I was looking for outer packaging that helps me feel like I'm still sexy - sagging skin and all.

In the end, I bought WAY too many bras. I bought a few sexy ones and a few more practical ones. I got home, pulled them out and then tried on every other bra I had in the house - and guess what? Some of the new ones HAVE to go back. I found two that I had from before I got bigger that will do.

But when I hit my goal weight? One of the first things I'm going to do is to celebrate and buy all new undies/bras. A major reward for a major goal.

I think I'm done...for now

So in case you're reading this via Google Reader, I've changed my blog.

And I think I'm done. The last piece I really want to figure out is how to create a masthead/header without Photoshop - because I don't want to buy that program just yet.

I recognize that the scribbly writing is sort of hard to see against the header picture...so maybe there is a way to outline it in some way. Other than that, am I missing any obvious things that look icky?

I've designed it on a Mac and I know that it looks different on a PC sometimes - so I'm looking forward to seeing what it looks like at work tomorrow.

And in case you're wondering, I do love the header image. It looks like a glowing heater behind a grate. And honestly? I feel that that signifies me - something glowing with white-hot potential.

Sometimes the grating is there for my protection...and sometimes it's for yours. :)

Ignore the man behind the curtain

This morning while TRYING to set up a new template, I ended up messing it up. Royally.

So basically, my web page looks like complete crapola. My hope is that in a few hours it'll start looking as it should.

Smaller, funpantsier, and all around better.

Stay tuned.

And in the meantime? Sorry for the absolute craziness.

Becoming a Little More Emotionally Healthy

I know that I mentioned that Joe (the boyfriend) is out of town this week. What I didn't mention is that he's out of town with his close friend who happens to be a girl. They get to go to a Broadway theatre production, to a hockey game, and get to see all the museums they'd like to. They left on Wednesday and will come back late on Sunday.

If you've been following me for a very long time, you might know that I had an ex-boyfriend that cheated on me - and it was one of the most hurtful experiences in my life. So you might think that I'm super worried about what might happen.

But the truth of the matter is, I've had to make a conscious decision to trust him. A little over a month ago, I realized that I worried about it - not because the boyfriend isn't trustworthy, but because the past boyfriend wasn't. And while I logically understand that Joe is different than my ex, believing it emotionally was a whole other battle.

So I made him promise that if he ever found himself wanting to cheat, all he had to do was call me and break up. Even via voicemail. I didn't care. I just wanted to be able to trust that he wasn't off doing something sexually with someone else unless I had heard from him. It may sound silly, but his promise has provided me comfort. And if I ever get caught up in the "what if", I have to ask myself "Self? Do you trust him?" and when the answer always comes back as "yes" I'm trying to remind myself to stop my mind there.

Because the thing is, it doesn't matter if he's off on a trip with his great friend (who happens to be a girl) or if he's on a business trip, or if he is just out with the guys one night. It doesn't matter if you share a room or are staying in separate hotels. It doesn't matter if your wife is hot - I knew a guy that cheated on his unbelievably gorgeous wife with a girl that was about 150 pounds heavier than his wife. What a relief it was to hear his story! Because in my mind, I had convinced myself that the ex cheated on me because I was fat. I believed that crap for YEARS afterwards. But now I know that cheating has very little to do with weight. It has very little to do with happiness. It has a lot to do with character. If you want to cheat you will find a way to cheat. It's as simple as that.

A few months ago, I was at a friend's house for a party. We were all drinking (although I was, by far, the most sober) outside on the deck. At one point, we heard sloshing sounds coming from the hot tub where two people were. These people are both dating others. The guy is LIVING with his girlfriend (who was away that night at a rodeo). And yet, here they were HAVING SEX in someone else's hot tub. * Classy, no?

My point is, I feel like I'm looking at this situation (the New York thing - not the hot tub thing) in a healthy way. I'm not saying that I've never been concerned about it. I'm just saying that I am remind myself that I CHOOSE to believe Joe. I believe his words and I believe his actions. Joe and I have a loving relationship where he is physically and emotionally available to me. I believe that. I have to.

And unless I'm given different data, I promise to not believe otherwise.

*Don't you worry. The guy had to clean out the hot tub and buy all new filters for the owner as penance.

Mixed bag

I've got many things on my brain right now...

The first is that my awesome boyfriend is going on a trip with a friend of his to New York City. They're going to go see a show, going to go to a hockey game, and going to visit the crap out of many museums. I'm envious, but so happy that he (and they, really) get to go and experience this together. I know I will miss him (it'll be about a week until I see him again)- mostly because things have been really great recently (I mean, they were great and now they're really great!) and it's been nice to see him as often as I have been. But I'm also really looking to my alone time this weekend. I'm looking forward to having a day where I'm lounging in my fun pants and not doing anything - or at least not much of anything. And that's going to be nuturing for my soul too - just as much as being with him is nurturing. In fact, if things go well, this blog will get a much needed makeover this weekend. I hope it looks as great as I want it to! I also will get to dive into a book that I've been excited to read when I had the time to be mindful about the advice in it.

The second thing is that I'm going shopping for pretty unmentionables this weekend. :) Sure, the boyfriend gets to reap the benefits of it, but primarily, it's a treat for me. I love feeling beautiful, powerful, and sexy in sexy underthings. It's been a while since I've treated myself to them...mostly because as I've been losing weight, I didn't want to spend the money. I'm still not going to go crazy and buy a bunch of items (because I'm not done with my weight loss journey yet)...but a sexy new bra and a few sexy panties are going to be the perfect boost and compliment to my healthier body.

Thirdly, my eating has been a little off so far this week...and my exercise has been down - as in non-existent so far this week. I haven't weighed myself since Monday, but I'm confident that it's more than last week. So, I'm going to do the healthy thing and run at lunch and pay special attention to eating when I'm not really hungry. The wonderful thing is that I haven't been eating for emotional reasons AT ALL this week...and I know that that is progress.

Things seem to be moving along smoothly as they have been the last few weeks. It has felt decadent to be living in the moment, without fear (or at least much fear) of the future, and without regret (or at least much regret) from my past. I know what it feels like to live the other way and I much prefer this feeling.

And another thing...

So I'm vowing to post here more often.

I've focused my marketing efforts more towards the Happy Fun Pants one...and although I think that that is fine, I'm proud of the work that I'm doing here too.

I'm vowing to post at least three times a week here - with the option of posting more per week when I feel like it.

So basically? You've been warned.

And also? Thanks for posting comments here - it makes it so much easier to post stuff when you know that they're being read. Maybe I need the comments more here than on my other one...I don't know. But I do know that it feels good to get your "atta' girl" comments. :)

Tofu: It's better than you think :)

I've really been trying to be on track this past week. It's not coming from a place of hate towards my body (like "You're so fat!" "You need to lose weight!" "Ugh, you're STILL in that same size?") but rather from a place of remembering what is healthy and what isn't.

Anyway, last Wednesday, I went out to eat with a friend of mine. This friend likes very specific things and her favorite restaurant is Chili's...followed only by Applebee's. While there is nothing wrong with those restaurants, I'm finding that I really like to eat at different restaurants.

So we met up - as we do a few times a year - to talk and eat. The thing was, earlier in the day, I was so hungry...so I went through quite a few of my points. I had 11.5 points left - including those that I earned during my lunchtime run. That may sound like a lot of points...and in some ways it is.

It's just that we had already decided to meet at PF Chang's (aka Land o' Lard). In all seriousness...after counting the points for most of the meals, I figured out that each entree was around 56 points. That's over TWO DAYS worth of points (for me).

But I knew I was so hungry, that I couldn't just have a salad (even if they *had* salad). So I caved. I looked at the tofu options (which were much lower in points).

When we got to the restaurant, the waitress was eager to help. I asked her what the consistency of tofu was like (I'm a huge consistency person - the taste doesn't matter as much). Our waitress crinkled her brow and said, "You don't want the tofu wraps. You want the chicken wraps. They're a lot better."

So I asked, "Have you ever *had* tofu?"

And she replied, "No. But it's gross."

So after MANY questions, she finally offered to bring some of the tofu out so I could try it. And you know what? It was pretty good. It didn't have a lot of taste, but the consistency of the stuff that they put in the lettuce wraps was kind of like mozerella cheese. It wasn't bad.

The tofu that they had in the cup of hot and sour soup was more slippery and wasn't my favorite thing...but it wasn't bad either.

The total for the night was 11 points: 2 for the cup of hot n' sour soup, 2 for a small order of shanghai cucumbers (chopped up cucumbers with soy sauce and seasame seeds), and 7 for half the meal of the vegetarian lettuce wraps (I had them put in some mushrooms too). Actually, the total was probably less than 11 because all I had to look at was the nutritional info from the PF Chang's website - and that didn't have any fiber information.

So basically, I left there satisfied and happy that I got to talk with a friend for a few hours.

I'm learning that eating out doesn't have to feel like a diet. Eating out doesn't have to feel like a full on gluttony fest either. In fact, eating out is becoming more and more about the company that I'm with and about the memories that are shared.

Funny...but I think that that's what it's *supposed* to be about anyway.

They're just numbers

I'm pretty proud of myself.

Actually, I could start a completely different post from there - mostly because growing up I always felt that to be proud of yourself meant that you thought you were better than someone else. Since that was bad, being proud of yourself must be bad.

These days, I'm realizing how good it feels to actually *be* proud of myself.

Anyway, I've run the past three days at lunch and am *thrilled* with my reaction to the running. I'm not saying that it's going to be like this forever, but these days, I run more because it is a stress relief rather than something that I *must* do to get fit.

One day this week, I ran at a pace that was so much slower than normal that I was actually surprised that I wasn't disappointed. It's funny how not basing my worth on numbers (weight, pace, time, inches, etc.) feels so much better. I recognized that the pace was slower but it didn't diminish the great feelings that accompanied running, moving my body, relieving the stress, and getting away from the office. Those things were great...so what if my pace was slower? I'm better for having done it - slower or not.

Yesterday, I ran and the colors of the changing leaves struck me as so pretty, I wanted to remember how beautiful and peaceful it was. If only I had a way to remember that moment! Then I did a mental mind slap as I realized I had a tool with me - I could stop and take pictures with my iPhone.

And then I thought, "But wait! Taking pictures with my phone means that I will have to stop running! It means that I'll have to stop my pace! I've never tried pausing my running with the Nike+. What if it loses all the data? WHAT IF THE DATA IS MESSED UP?!?"

The next thought was this: "Fuck it. They're just numbers."

Here is the best of the pictures I took:

Clearly, I didn't do the view justice...but it was gorgeous. You'll have to trust me on that one.

And actually, that's kind of how I feel about my future...because the view from here? It's gorgeous, too.

Perspective

Something happened this past week.

I gained.

Well, actually, I gained a few things. One is weight. The other is perspective.

See, I'm not quite sure what happened, but I guess my feelings these days are something akin to laziness...where I'm not devastated or thrilled with my life - I'm living somewhere in the middle. Things are fine. And when they're not, that's okay too.

Having lived my life in the valleys and peaks, it's a little weird to find myself on a plateau.

So, really, two things from this past week:
1) I gained weight although not a lot of it was due to emotionally eating. A lot of it was due to me simply having lost focus of what the goal was. The scale said last night at WW that I was up 3.2 pounds. And I have to say that I've had a lot of weeks where I *have* gained 3.2 pounds (or more) but last week was not one of those weeks. It might be water retention, might be any number of things...but I know that that number isn't accurate. One thing is for certain, that number will change this next week.
2) I wonder if this is how life is supposed to be. It's not that I'm devoid of emotion...it's that it's in perspective. The inner anxiety that I've felt for a long time is sort of gone right now.

In other news, I am excited because a book that I have been looking forward to getting finally arrived on my doorstep. It's Pema Chodron's "Taking the Leap: Freeing Ourselves from Old Habits and Fears."

My hope is that my calm state of mind will be exactly what I need to take in as much as possible from this book.

I'm excited about the changes that I'm certain WILL happen. It's just that my excitement is in a calm and balanced way now. Is it confidence? Is it trusting myself? Is it peace with others?

I don't know. One thing is for certain, it's a bit of alright.