This elusive place called Onederland

If you have read my blogs before, I think I know what you're thinking. She did it! She made it to Onederland! What an accomplishment?

Nope.

It's been three weeks and my weight has just...stalled. My doctor said eat more carbs. My nutritionist said eat more often. My nurse said eat more protein. My body is changing but the scale just...isn't.

I share this for one big reason: this weight loss thing is a battle for my heart and my soul. And I don't want to only share the victories. The real truth is that I am wildly frustrated. And I am wondering when I will get to see a "1" at the beginning of my weight on the scale. I thought I would have crushed that milestone by now. A three week stall when I am training for a half marathon and running 15-18 miles a week?

Come on.

The thing that I hate about social media is we don't really post what's truly going on. We post the best stuff. The stuff we are proud of. The moments that we want to remember. Because why would we post about the struggles? The stuff we are ashamed of? The moments we want to forget?

Amidst this frustration of a perceived "lack of progress" I am reminded daily of how far I have come. And God gives me three words every day when I want to quit.

Stay. The. Course.

Stay the course. Remain and be present in the process. Embrace the discomfort. Do the work. Share all of it. All of it. Because our collective story will never just be the "facebook moments." Our story is the highs and lows and all points in between. 

We will make it to Onederland. When it's time. And until then, we will stay the course. Today I ran 9 miles, because that's what is on my training plan. Tomorrow will reveal itself to me. 

When it's time.

Take me out to the ball game

Tiny seats. Tiny sweatshirt. Massive dimples.

For most of my adult life, a simple social question created complex social anxiety in my heart:

"Want to go to the game this weekend?"

That question would bring up a slew of follow up questions in my mind: Where is the game? Is it at PNC Arena? What are the seats like? How big are they? Am I going to fit? Are there arms on the chairs? How will I fit past people on the aisles? Will anyone be sitting next to me? Because if so, they are probably going to be squished sitting next to me.

If you've never been overweight, you might think this sounds neurotic and dramatic. I assure you, it is  the series of questions that always went through my head when anyone asked me to a game. Or a concert. Or a restaurant. Or a trip. Or a movie. When you get to be a certain size, your world also gets to be a certain size. I got bigger and my world got smaller.

Last week I was shopping in Kohl's with a friend and her kids. I mentioned needing a new hoodie and  instead of going to the "big and tall" men's section, we went to the women's Nike hoodies. I found a grey XL sweatshirt and held it up when my friend promptly told me "that is WAY too big for you." She handed me a large purple sweatshirt instead and told me to try it on. I panicked for a second, thinking "there is no way this is going to fit, and I am going to be in the middle of Kohl's wearing an impossibly tight sweatshirt looking like a dummy."

But the women's large sweatshirt fit. When 6 months ago I would wear a men's 2xl. I got in line to buy the sweatshirt and I was just staring at the tag. When was the last time I wore a large? When was the last time I wore a women's Nike large? I was fighting back my tears in the checkout line. It was such a victory for me to finally buy something that wasn't the largest something in the store. Even my friend's kind son leaned up against me, looked at me and said "This a lot to take in, huh?" Smart kid.

So I went to the ball game. In my Nike women's large sweatshirt. And I sat in those tiny seats at PNC Arena. And I sat in that moment with thankfulness for every single one of the 108 pounds I have lost so far. What a victory it is for me to fit in anywhere I want now. Any game. Any concert. Any movie. Any airplane. Any Nike sweatshirt.

And as usual, without my friends there, I would have bought that too big grey sweatshirt. And I wouldn't have gone to PNC Arena for fear of not fitting in. And I would not have realized the weight of the moment. (see what I did there?)

Let your friends be your mirror.

Branded!

As a 5' 10" 300+ pound woman, shopping always terrified me.

Shopping malls made me anxious. If a friend wanted to go shopping in a clothing store, I would hang out by the accessories. And not even the rings or the bracelets. The necklaces. Maybe the scarves. Or the socks. I pretended to care about shopping for...socks.

And as my friends would try on clothes and could choose any color of any item off of any rack, I just tried to avoid the awkward interaction with a sales person on the floor.

"Are you finding everything ok?"

"No, not really. In fact, nothing you have here fits me. Not even close. And I have to wait here while my naturally thin friends have to decide what to buy because they have all the choices in the world."

(actually, the only answer I could ever muster up was "Yup! Thanks!" I always wondered if they were questioning why I was even in their store in the first place, because the up and down looks I got sort of tipped me off...)

Since I started the push towards weight loss surgery in March, I started at 318 pounds. I ripped out a page from the LL Bean catalog and put it on my fridge. It was a page with regular women's clothing. Sizes S-XL. I had never been able to fit into anything smaller than the largest plus size LL Bean had -  a 3XL. That picture was my motivation that everyday choices might one day get me into everyday sizes.

On Black Friday, a few friends and I were among the crazies to go shopping at an outlet mall. I walked into J. Crew to just get some perspective of where I was with everyday sizes. It took courage for me to take an XXL shirt off of the rack and try it on in a dressing room. It took courage for me to pick out another XL shirt just to see how close I could be to fitting into an everyday size. I have shopped at Old Navy online for everything. That had been my only choice. And my mind had been trained to look for the biggest sizes everywhere i go. The bigger my clothes were, the more I could...hide. Baggy clothes made me feel small. But, baggy clothes also made me feel...small. In all the ways I didn't want.

So there I was in the J. Crew changing room and I had a moment. That XXL shirt was too big. That XL shirt fit me perfectly. And their chinos. And their sweaters. And I was no longer the largest size they carried. I fit in. And I proudly replaced that XXL button down knowing I would never need it again.

That LL Bean catalog clipping is gone from my fridge, replaced by new milestones to hit. And I have since had to downsize my pants from the Gap. Every time I wear my LL Bean shirt or my J Crew chinos or my Gap pants I can't believe they fit. When I take them out of the dryer to do laundry I still think "these aren't my pants, these are tiny."

I am waiting for my brain to catch up to my body. But every day is progress. And every day is a day I accept as it is. And who knows? Maybe you'll see me shopping at stores in the mall soon. And maybe I'll roll into one of the "fancy" stores I used to go to and get up and down looks while perusing their sock collection and ask the salesgirl: "You work on commission, right? Big mistake! Big! Huge!"

I think Julia Roberts would be proud.

Side effects

Picture on the left? Thanksgiving last year. Picture on the
right? Me at the car dealership a few weeks ago. With
less "size on me..."

So, I am about 4 1/2 months out from surgery (July 11th). The weather is changing here in North Carolina. And I have lost my outer layer of warmth, about 99 pounds of it actually.

I am freezing. All the time. Side effect.

Today, for instance, was a sunny day, high of about 50 degrees. So naturally I wore wool socks and two jackets. I am forever wearing wool socks and two jackets. I also had to steal a space heater from a co-worker. Thanks, AB!

A few weeks ago, I got a new car. It reminded me of the last time I shopped for a new car three years ago. I remember going to the dealership and the Ford salesman asked what I was looking for. I told him an SUV, anything from an Explorer to an Escape.

The poor guy looked at me and said "hmmm...not sure you would want an Escape. You have some size to you."

I say "poor guy" because I bet the look on my face was enough to make him want to crawl into a hole. I "have some size" to me? Are you allowed to say that? The sad thing is...he was right. I just hated that he was right. So I got an Explorer, and walked away feeling the opposite you feel when you get a new car: embarrassed and ashamed.

But that was then. And this is now. I could get any car I want this time. In fact, my rental car was a tiny Toyota Corolla for a few weeks and you know what? I fit in it just fine. I don't have that "size" to me anymore. Side effect.

But today, today was a great side effect I wasn't anticipating. I probably work out in the mornings 5 times a week. It's the same crowd at the Y at that time, and I know most of the faces but we are there to get a job done and leave so there isn't a whole lot of socializing. This morning, a woman I have seen often but never have talked to took her headphones out to talk to me. I found out her name is Kimberly. Here's how the conversation went:

Kimberly: "You look amazing! What are you doing?"
Me: "Well, I had weight loss surgery in July, but I have to stay active and work the plan to stay healthy."
Kimberly "I am doing the low carb thing, it's so hard."
Me: "You are in here every time I'm here so you are doing something right!"
(insert small talk about squats and sugar and the bench press)
Kimberly: "I have to tell you, you are my inspiration to show up in the mornings. Watching your transformation motivates me to keep trying."
(insert me sweating and also crying a little bit too.)

What?! I didn't go into this thinking it would affect other people like it has. Every day is a chance for me to encourage someone else that tells me how happy and healthy I look. And it's not just about weight loss. It's about taking chances. Asking for help. Knowing your worth. Fighting for yourself. Some of the conversations I have gotten to have have been unexpectedly deep and meaningful and I love it.

Like Kimberly. Who just needs that extra push from a familiar face at the Y. Change is possible, you just need someone in your life to remind you. Side effect.

4 months, 5 miles, and 87 pounds

I just discovered running tights! Wow, this is a
great time to be alive I swear it.

I'm coming up on 4 months since my July 11th surgery date. I'm also coming up on week 6 of training for a little half marathon in March. Running certainly has changed the way I think and multiplied the ways I am thankful for daily life.

When I was 320 pounds in March, I certainly limited my life in so many ways. Being overweight and turning to food for comfort has been a physical barrier my whole life and has kept me from loving fully and being fully loved. Like any other addiction or replacement, food kept me isolated. As I gained weight and became bigger, my world became smaller. I took less chances, made less plans, and experienced less of life.

Don't get me wrong, if you know me, you know I have always been full of life. I have always been social and cared for people around me. But there was always a sense I could never fully be myself with that barrier separating me from the world. After all, how are we supposed to accept love fully when we don't fully love ourselves?

So here I am today at 231 pounds. 87 pounds down since March. And here I am this morning after running 5 miles. Running is a lifelong habit for some, but it has always been an unattainable goal to me, something I admired in others but never thought I could accomplish. I am following a specific training plan to prepare for the half in March, and this week I have run 15 miles. Every mile has been a reminder of where I have come from.

It is nice to be running towards something now, rather than running away from something. It is nice to be showing up rather than hiding. It is nice to be seeing the world in a bigger way rather than watching my world get smaller and smaller.

Today is November 4th. And I am thankful. For all the ways I am finding who I truly am. The person that was hiding behind the weight and can now be fully seen. Here's to the next 40 pounds!

75 pounds down!

Proud of my mileage. More proud of my sweatage.

So I went to a surgical follow-up last week with my doctor to make sure everything looked good. She asked about my eating and if I was able to start working out.

"Well, I am running a half-marathon in March and I've started training for that, so..."

To which she replied "Of COURSE you are!"

Even my doctor knows I don't do anything half-assed I guess.

As of this week, I am 75 pounds down from my pre-surgery weight when I started the process in April. It hasn't been easy physically or mentally, but day by day, I see progress that is pretty mind-blowing. I just got home from finishing a 3 mile run. This week, our official half-marathon training started. (shout out to everyone that is doing this race in March! You are all amazing humans.) I just looked at my training log and realized I ran 13 miles this week, which is the distance of a half-marathon.

Would the Liz of last year ever believe this was in my future? That's a big hell no. In fact, I had given up on my future in so many ways. Admitting I needed help in the form of weight loss surgery has made me realize how important it is to let people in. To let people in to my struggles, my embarrassments, my pain, my reality, my fears, all of it. Going to therapy and having surgical intervention and relying on my friends to take care of me hasn't been natural for me, but it's been necessary.

A blog can't describe what the past three months have taught me. When I made the decision to get healthy, my world opened up in every way. God has shown me love through people like I never thought possible. And If I had remained hidden behind my weight and my complacency, I would never have received the joy I am receiving now from so many wonderful people around me (and if you're reading this...you're most likely one of those wonderful people).

So if you need any word of encouragement today it would be this: don't settle. Know what you're worth and believe you deserve it all. You were created by God and God doesn't make mistakes.

(my other word of wisdom: Kesha is a GREAT running soundtrack. Just saying.)

Am I going to fit?

How many times does this ride go
upside down?

When you've been overweight as long as you can remember like I have, you never really forget that the world isn't really made for you.

As of today, I am down 67 pounds. I am fitting into the smallest stuff I own, and have pretty much gotten rid of all my old clothes. I even ordered some pants from The Gap and they fit. When I hold them in my hands, I think they are someone else's pants. When I put them on, I think there is no way they will fit. But they do. And I still can't believe it.

But the big win for the week for me was conquering that roller coaster fear. The last time I did this was in 2012. Pretty soon after that, I injured my back, and that started the surgeries that derailed me and contributed to me gaining about 70 pounds back over the course of a few years.

So here we are, in 2018, and my best friend Julie (who loves roller coasters) invited me to go to Howl-A-Scream with a group to Busch Gardens. I remember saying yes a few months ago thinking "oh it's a few months away, sure I'll go! Last time I rode a roller coaster in 2012 I got nauseous all day, but I'm sure I''ll be fine!"

Saturday arrived, and we approached the first ride called Apollo's Chariot. No upside down or backwards, no problem. Except one problem. Will I fit into the roller coaster seat? If you're naturally thin, you've never thought about this. But when you struggle with weight your whole life like me, you wonder about the airplane seat. And the restaurant booth. And the roller coaster seat. I even remember as a middle schooler, waiting in line for a ride at Hershey Park and getting to the front only to find I couldn't fit into it, and having to slink off to the exit. As a middle school girl. Humiliating.

I guess it's become enough of an issue that, thankfully, theme parks now have a "tester" seat at the front of some of their

rides. These tester seats are for "larger park guests" that don't want to be humiliated after waiting in line and then not fitting.

So Julie and I got up to the ride, saw the tester seat, and I turned to her in a panic and said "What if I get to the front of the line and I can't fit in the seat?" And THIS is why we need good friends. She looked at me almost shocked and said "You will never have to worry about that again."

So I sat in the seat. And I fit. And I realized my brain has yet to catch up to my body. I still see myself as I was at 320 pounds, not fitting in, and being scared of new adventures where I can't control my environment. And the roller coaster? Terrifying.

We moved on to the next ride called Da Vinci's Cradle and it had a seatbelt in the seat. Which fit around my waist, and I was shocked. And then there was a bar that was supposed to latch down over you. I grabbed the bar and it wouldn't latch. I turned to my friend Julie, again, and had a panicked look on my face like "I'm too big for this ride" and right when I thought that, realized that the staff hadn't yet locked it down on the whole ride. It had nothing to do with me. Again, my brain couldn't believe I could fit, and I had that panicked look on my face that I had been used to my whole life: "I am too big to fit."

Shout out to Da Vinci's Cradle. The
motion sickness was too real.

The fun plot twist of the day is that motion sickness doesn't get better as you age, it gets a LOT worse. So I spent half the day on dramamine trying to recover from Da Vinci's Cradle (which goes backwards waaaaaay too much) and another coaster called Verbolten that takes you into complete darkness and scrambled my stomach beyond repair. But, once the dramamine kicked in, I ended the day again on Apollo's Chariot because I needed to end on a high note, not a pukey one.

The moral of my Busch Gardens story? Trust your friends. I see that theme in my life a lot lately. I am the queen of getting into my own head too much. Trust your friends. When you overthink something and are inconsolable, trust your friends. Find that one or two people that you trust, and let them in fully. Don't be afraid to get hurt. You will get hurt. Because people hurt each other. But the best friends are the ones that stay with us through the pain. And talk it out. And ask forgiveness. And accept your forgiveness.

Trust your friends. They know where you fit. And where you belong.

I can't thank this patient group enough (l to r: Melanie,
Julie, Aaron, motion sickness girl, and Amy)

Standing still is moving backwards.

Picture on the left is from last week, fitting into the
"skinniest" jacket I have. Picture on the right is from
March. Sometimes it's hard to see progress when
you're in the midst of it!

I am about two months out from surgery, and I am feeling pretty great. When I found out my surgery date, I was in a facebook group with other duodenal switch patients, and we started a smaller facebook group message for those of us having surgery the same week. There are about 12 of us on the group message.

It has been great to be a part of that group...we have messaged each other about different phases of the process, the pre-op diet and the post-op diet, different foods to try and to avoid, and all the emotional stuff in between.

About two weeks ago, a lady in the group said she was really struggling and going back to old habits. She said she found herself in McDonald's eating a Big Mac and large fries. Even as she got the physical pain that comes with this surgery when you overeat or eat stuff you shouldn't, she powered through and finished her meal, because, that's part of the food addiction we all have. And when she got home, she was sick. VERY sick. for almost 24 hours.

When I read this I thought... "you did WHAT? WHERE?" I can barely keep down 500 calories of protein shakes right now. And my second thought was..."careful, Liz. Be careful."

It is so easy for me to judge. It is easy to say "I would NEVER do that." The last time I lost 80 pounds, I swore up and down it would never come back. And one bad food decision led to another, led to a back surgery, led to lack of exercise, led to overeating and on and on and on.

The truth is, if I stand still, I will move backwards. If nothing changes, nothing changes. So I am paying attention to every day. I am making choices for my health and for my life. I have had moments where I have eaten too much, but I have to listen to my body. And days where I just don't want to go work out, but I know my body needs to move.

None of us are promised tomorrow. And for me, tomorrow overwhelms me. So I am doing what I can today and living today the best way that I can. This is the part of the journey that has nothing to do with weight loss, but everything to do with believing I deserve better. We all do!

Trust your friends.

So I had my follow-up one month nutritionist class yesterday. My program is great because surgery is not the end. I have follow-ups for about a year that include everything from blood work to nutrition counseling to therapy. And thank God for that because I have been inside my own head quite a bit in the last month.

At the end of class, you meet individually with the nutritionist. The conversation went a little something like this:

Nutritionist: "So, how are you doing?"
Me: "Pretty good. I can still only tolerate three shakes a day and I'm not doing much solid food."
Nutritionist: "What do you think the problem is?"
Me: "I don't know, it took me about an hour to eat a greek yogurt the other day, My body just wasn't interested."
Nutritionist: "Yeah, that's part of the deal. You just need to be patient with yourself."
Me: "Story of my life. I still feel like I am the medical anomaly that this surgery won't work for because I've been stalled out with the scale."
Nutritionist: "You are at the the three week stall. It happens to everyone. Your body has gone through trauma and it's trying to recover. How's your support system at home?"
Me: "Well, I live alone but my friends have been amazing. People have been taking me for walks, working out with me, and really encouraging me."
Nutritionist: "And are they seeing progress in you?"
Me: "Yes, my friends keep telling me my face changes weekly. It's hard for the fat girl in me to believe it's working!"
Nutritionist: "You should trust your friends."

Mic drop.

You know this whole thing is not just about weight loss. It never was. When you choose to live a healthy life and choose to take your life back, all kinds of amazing things begin to happen. For me, when I decided to be vulnerable, let down my walls, and let people in, my life completely changed. We all walk through life in self-preservation mode. The problem with that, is that walls keep bad things out sure, but they also keep the best things out too.

I don't know about you, but I want to live a life that is open and available to the good and the bad. I would rather love and be hurt than never experience love to begin with. And that is all about trust. My nutritionist in all her professional glory is right. I should trust my friends. I should trust my friends with the most vulnerable parts of me. Because I am learning, that's the best stuff of all.

Life with the boys

Shiloh (left) and Georgie (right).

Let me tell you, being 42 and single is hard. Very hard. I fight selfishness every day. When you don't have anyone to take care of outside of yourself, you become extremely self-reflective and self-critical. When you don't have other lives to care for, you tend to turn inward and isolated.

I've never been one of those girls that have thought "being married will complete me." I have enough friends that fight for their marriages and work hard to make it work to believe that marriage is the answer to loneliness. But being self-aware doesn't make loneliness less of an issue.

God has a way of making things simple when I overcomplicate my life. So in the midst of such a difficult season, he found a way to bring me two of the greatest gifts I didn't know I needed.

Enter Shiloh and Georgie.

To avoid a 3,000 word essay on why dogs are awesome, here are the lessons they have taught me about life. Lessons that work with dogs and people alike:

• Guilt is an effective motivator, but love is the lasting motivator. Shaming a dog can be a quick fix, but loving a dog with patience is a lasting one. Sound familiar?
• Unconditional love is a real thing. Love can be so simple. We just complicate it instead of being open and accepting it.
• It is good to care for someone other than yourself. These dogs run my schedule now and I LOVE it. Being forced to put the needs of something else first at times is good for my soul.

I do think animals are God's gift to us. A reminder of simple joy, and simple love. I hope that one day I can be the person that my dog thinks I am. For now, though, I am just loving life with Shiloh and Georgie and the ways they make my life softer and more simple.

Also, how can you say no to those faces?

Shiloh is 4 years old and loves me completely.
Other people, not so much!

Georgie just turned two and he is the town mascot
for Wake Forest! He fulfills his duty with honor.

Georgie is a therapy dog at our local retirement home.
It's the best part of my week to watch him with the
memory care patients.

"What kind of surgery are you having?"

What a harmless question, right?

Until you ask it of someone like me who is a bit ashamed of resorting to weight loss surgery to get healthy.

The process through insurance has been over a year for me. There are requirements that insurance needs to approve the duodenal switch surgery. For those of you thinking of weight loss surgery, here is what I have had to go through:

1. Primary care doctor visits documenting weight concerns for over a year.
2. Initial orientation with a team of nutritionists.
3. Weigh ins.
4. A sleep study.
5. A psychiatric evaluation.
6. Weigh ins.
7. Protein seminars.
8. Bariatric surgery consults.
9. Weigh ins.
10. Endoscopy and colonoscopy.
11. Hospital consultation.
12. Blood work.
13. More blood work.
14. Did I mention weigh-ins?

Don't get me wrong. I am thankful for the process because of one thing: they are operating on my digestive system, not my brain. My brain has to be ready for the change. The process has given me lots of time to process and thoughtfully consider what I am about to do.

This is known as the "DS" or, duodenal switch. It is
now considered the most effective surgery to
lose the weight and keep it off.

But it doesn't mean the insecurity and fear of judgment goes away. When I lost 75 pounds a few years ago, it was with blood, sweat, and tears. Lots of tears. At my lowest weight, I ended up needing lower back surgery. About two years after that, I needed upper back surgery. I was working out over an hour a day, 6 days a week rather faithfully. But I just couldn't get a handle on the eating. I allowed myself too many "cheat meals" and we all know, those turn into "cheat days" and "cheat weekends." And when you can't work out due to injury...you sit around a lot. And eat.

Want to know what's worse than being overweight? Losing 75 pounds and gaining it all back.

While some say surgery is the easy way out (and yes, I have heard this from well-meaning people), I must say, now that I am living in it and on day three of my liquid diet prep...it most certainly is not easy. And if I hadn't of had the year long preparation, I don't think my brain would be ready.

We have five days to go. And I apologize in advance to all of you that will be around me between now and Wednesday. Because I am perpetually hangry. Forgive me?

The life of a prepper

Shout out to Bariatric Advantage and Celebrate vitamins.

I was going to entitle this "The life of a doomsday prepper" but what I have coming up isn't doomsday, it's more like a birthday. Except much more painful and filled with vitamins.

Speaking of vitamins, someone asked about the regimen, so here it is. 5 times a day I am taking a chewable vitamin of some sort, because that's what my new body can absorb. Because I am such a prepper, I have already organized them into easy doses to make sure I don't miss a beat. Vitamins are crucial in recovery since I won't be able to take in a lot of food nutrition.

And here's what the fridge looks like. Day one of the liquid diet prep is today. Duodenal switch surgery is July 11th. And a warning if you have to interact with me this week: I will be hangry pretty much all week. So I apologize in advance for what I might do or say.

For those of you looking for protein shake recommendations, I really can't say enough good things about Premier Protein. I have tried a LOT of options for protein in my life, and this is really the bariatric standard. 160 calories, 30 grams of protein, and 1 gram of sugar. You can find them at Walmart and Sams Club and they have a great variety of flavors. Peach and cookies and cream are my favorites.

I keep hearing that your taste buds completely change after surgery, but I am hoping I can still tolerate the shakes afterwards. They have been a lifeline for me, truly.

Cheers to day one!

When God showed up.

Is it me that shows up, or is it God in me that shows up?

I would be remiss to not document the epic nature of this day. Remember, Thursday (two days ago) was round two of my steroid shots. And on Thursday (two days ago) I could barely stand. And here it is, Saturday. And this is what happened today:

I spent the morning with God. Like every morning in the past two weeks. This, in itself, has been an epic and essential part of my life. It's a joke that I try to maintain a relationship with God when I don't give Him any of my time. Anyone else in my life would have moved on by now. Some have. And who could blame them?

As I was writing in my journal this morning about my physical struggle, God put it in my heart to toss all my junk food out. All of it. So I did. Anything questionable in my house that was impeding my progress was purged. That was amazing.

God showed up.

Mid-morning I went down to NC State to have lunch with the Wizard. Now if you don't know her, you are really missing out. All the while, my leg feels stronger, my back felt loser, and my heart felt fuller. Yeah, fuller.

Do I dare try a workout? I did dare. And I was so...nervous. I have felt defeated, watching myself gain weight back and not be able to control it. Watching my progress turn to regress is heartbreaking. I got on the bike and started pedaling.

And then, God showed up again. In the form of my friend Nancy who works out at the Y frequently, walks with a cane, and never fails to smack my perspective back in line. I said a simple hello to Nancy, but what I really wanted to say is: "you INSPIRE me. Every single day that I see you, and I don't tell you that enough."

So I biked. And I did an upper body workout, and I have never, ever felt so grateful for my hands. And my feet. And the ability to walk. And strength. And progress and struggle and all points in between. Because amidst the peaks and valleys, no matter where I am, God shows up.

I know SO many of you prayed for my healing. I cannot thank you enough. I am overwhelmed with gratitude, and humbled by your love for me. Because of you, God showed up.

It's time for me to start showing up for God a little more.

-Liz

I'm riding a rollercoaster. And not the metaphorical kind.

Tomorrow, world, is a freaking crazy day. Tomorrow is a day that I never thought I would see. Tomorrow is a dream, a nightmare, a challenge, and a victory.

Tomorrow...I am riding rollercoasters.

Our Y director team is taking a trip to Carowinds for the day, and I have been preparing for it for kind of my whole life. No big deal.

The last time I rode a rollercoaster of any kind was at Hershey Park. I was probably...15 or 16. I remember vividly being in one of those swing things and sitting in them, or should I say, stuffing myself in them. The writing was on the wall. I imagined those chains breaking and launching me in the atmosphere and never being able to get out of that tiny seat again. Needless to say, that was the last ride for me.

So here we go, 20 years later. I would be lying if I said I didn't have any anxiety about this, because I do. Will I fit? Will I get to the front of the long line and be turned away by a smug Carowinds employee? Will the people around me wonder if I'm going to fit, and will they hope that I won't sit anywhere near them?

When I was starting the weight loss stuff, "riding a rollercoaster" was at the top of my list as my far-away, reaching goal. Because as hard as it might be to believe, I never thought I would see the inside of an amusement park again. Tomorrow, that day has arrived.

Big things are happening. No pun intended.

-Liz

If your refrigerator could speak...

I went grocery shopping today since we were out of bananas. Yes my friends, this is always a tragedy.

I am painfully aware of the ways I use food as a coping mechanism for life's ups and downs. Food is there for me when I celebrate, when I mourn, when I am lonely, when I am in community, and truly every emotion in between.

The cool thing now, is to see how I use food in the moment. For instance, I was really hungry today after I worked out. (side note: it was also something like 325 degrees in NC today, so heat makes me want to stay indoors, watch Mad Men reruns, and eat everything in sight) When I was driving back from the Y, I passed Chipotle. Firehouse Subs. McDonalds. Wendy's. Taco Bell. Some new wings restaurant. I even went to Trader Joe's on an empty stomach.

That was my first mistake.

But the reason why all of today was cool, is that the old Liz would have made a b-line to any of the above drive-thrus and gotten my heart's desire. Even though I just ran 4 1/2 miles today, the crazy part of me would say "you deserve to eat whatever you want now!" Really? Do I really deserve that? Do I deserve to work my ass off and then eat my ass right back on?

Pardon the language, but honestly...is this not crazy to you?

Yet we all live this way. Maybe we eat great in public, ordering the half portions at Panera and only drinking water throughout the day, no sweets in the break room and always avoiding birthday cake. But maybe we then go to Harris Teeter and hit up the bakery like they are going out of business. We then go home, lock the door, close the blinds, screen the phone calls and watch Mad Men reruns.

I say this like I have done this before. Well, duh.

Here's the thing - the new Liz knows better. And I can't stress enough how much of a process this whole year has been. I maybe appeared healthy to the outside world, but secret eating was my JAM. I was the best at it. It made me so happy and then, 30 minutes later, it made me so sad. I would work out with my trainer and kill it in the gym, and then I would work out with McDonald's and kill it in front of the tv. Alone, alone alone.

Get the picture?

Let's cut it out with the secret stuff. Who is holding you accountable? Who is your support system? If you are trying to make ANY kind of change, believe me when I say that it won't last until you have someone that you trust walking through it with you.

And here is a little picture of accountability for all of you faceless friends that read my blog. A year ago, if you showed me this picture, I would say "it's a shame all those vegetables are going to go bad because who would ever eat BEETS?"

(Beets are a crazy superfood but are also crazy gross...but I put them in the Vitamix and I can't even taste them so that's what's up.)

If you don't have anyone holding you accountable, find one. Find ten. Find whatever it takes to help you when you don't think you need help. (For a stoonad like me, it takes a village.)

-Liz

365 Days with the 335 pound woman

So, I stumbled across a blog the other day called "365 Days With The 335 Pound Woman." I was so excited because I thought it would be an encouraging read. Another great success story to keep me going. My first red flag when I stumbled upon it? She hadn't posted in over 4 months.

I will say, that if I don't post on this blog for months at a time, something has gone wrong. This blog has become more about accountability and encouragement than anything else. I can't tell you the amazing feedback I've gotten. Shedding light on this struggle has taken the power of the darkness away. I think we all deal with something in our lives that needs more light shed on it. Amen?

Anyway, back to the 335 pound woman.

Basically, she lost about 60 pounds over the course of the year. Then her life changed. She hated her job, fell into depression, and started gaining weight back. After gaining back 25 pounds, she thought to herself "If you're not careful, you are going to gain all the weight back."

And over the next few months, she did just that. She gained all the weight back and then some. Do I need to tell you how frightening her story is to me?

So I wrote her an email. I hope she writes me back. She has fallen off the grid and her silence is deafening to a community of readers that are hoping she makes it so that they can believe in themselves to make it, too.

I want to believe in the 335 pound woman and I don't even know her name. The crazy thing is, I never believed in my own 325 pound woman that started this journey back in October. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. But the 335 pound woman's struggle is a reminder to me of one key thing:

THIS. IS. NEVER. OVER.

I can't get comfortable. I can't stop. I can't give up on myself on the days when this gets too hard. I can't eat whatever I want and use food to fill the hole in my heart that only God can fill.

THIS. IS. NEVER. OVER.

If you have a second, email that blog above. Remind the 335 pound woman that she can do it. Because whether we want to admit it or not, we cannot do it alone. Not now, not ever.

-Liz

One mile turns into ten

This was on my door this morning.

Last night I was hanging out with my friends and I had an idea. Before I could think it through, I said it out loud.

"I think I'm going to run 10 miles tomorrow."

I heard myself saying this and I thought "who am I?"

I can't explain this enough: I NEVER thought I would be this person. Actually, I never thought that I COULD be this person. Someone that can run ten miles. Someone that can have self-discipline like this. Someone that other people could ask about how to lose weight and be an encouragement to them.

I was the big girl. I was the secretive eater. I was the lazy friend. I was the one that would make other people feel better about how much they ate because I always ate more.

Now, I am embracing the fact that I am someone people can be encouraged by, because I have been able to do something I never thought possible. God has rescued and redeemed me, saved and sustained me, healed and helped me.

So today I hit the Tobacco Trail with my friend Cameron to hold me accountable. I told the Facebook world that I was going to do it so I had to report back. Five miles in I got the mother of all blisters on the inside of my arch. Seven miles in I had rocks in my shoes. Eight miles in I hit the most annoying steady incline that lasted forever. Nine miles in, I shook my head the rest of the way because I couldn't believe what my Nike GPS was telling me.

May the force be with you.

Last year at this time I was marveling at the fact that I could run a mile without stopping. Can I remind you that you are new? That you can conquer that thing that has been a struggle for you your whole life? That you will find people coming around you to support you through your darkest hours?

But here's what's awesome. Your smallest steps will be celebrated by your biggest fans. And if you fail, you can always try again tomorrow. So celebrate your victories, but also celebrate your shortcomings. And keep trying. Before you know it, one mile will turn into ten.

-Liz

When you trip down memory lane

Last night I went to dinner with two of my favorite Young Life girls from Leesville High School. They are now women. Married, kids, and welcoming their 30s. It was one of those moments in time that just takes you back. And it really, REALLY took me back.

One of them said "I want to ask you a question, but before I do, I want to apologize if it's over the line." That statement already had me excited about what was next. She said "Do you wonder why your friends didn't encourage you to lose weight sooner?"

Hmm. I am still pondering this. When I started this weight loss journey, it wasn't my friends that encouraged me to do it. It wasn't a big moment in time where I knew something had to change, nothing percipatated it, nothing hit me as a rock bottom. For all intents and purposes, it was just - time to change.

Do I wonder why my friends didn't encourage me to lose weight sooner? Yes. I think about that quite a bit actually. Is there something about me that makes me unapproachable? Am I too tough? Am I too proud? Am I independent to a fault?

And this was the point in the dinner that I tripped down memory lane. I fell into that place of "I couldn't let anyone in, and I couldn't be told what to do. I still can't." And trust me, I struggle with this every day. This blog itself is a coping mechanism for me to let people in. To let down my guard and take in the good and the bad.

What will happen to all of us if we just...let people into the pain? If we weren't afraid of being ourselves to people, how would that change the world? And maybe more importantly, who is it in your life that needs to know that you struggle so that they can feel the freedom to struggle right there with you?

-Liz

"I just bought the cutest outfit at Old Navy!"

You would hear this all day every day from most people in the world. You would NEVER hear this come out of my mouth. Until now.

Today, I shopped. Today, I tried things on. Today, I had a variety of things I COULD try on. I could put things back, I could pass over things, I could check prices, I could shop a size....smaller. Things were too big. And I found a cute outfit, and I bought it.

What the heck is happening to me?

I can't believe this journey sometimes. It is all together heartbreaking, glorious, unbelievable, painful, joyful, and most of all - life altering. Every day is something new. And today, for some reason that only God will be able to reveal to me eventually, today I had conversation after conversation about "how I did this."

People want to know how I did it. What's the trick? What's the secret? The tricky secret is that I get to talk about Jesus. I get to tell people that I wasn't ready to change until I knew I was worth changing. That I was made for more. That Jesus loved me more than anyone, and that He loved me too much to leave me the way I was...unwilling to change.

Is this the hardest thing I have ever done? Yes. Is this the most painful thing I've ever gone through? Yes. But is this the greatest story of God's redemptive hand on my life so far? Oh, hell yes. (that's right, I cursed. Get off me.)

Oh by the way, I took off my "pounds lost" tracker from here. Not because it's not important, but because I was making that number too important and giving it too much power.

But hey, there's something in ALL of our lives that has too much power over us, isn't there? Cut it loose.

-Liz

"You look skinny..."

Today is an epic day. For most people, it's a common, everyday thing. But for me, today is the first day that I have ever done this:

I shopped at Marshall's, found a dress, tried it on, loved it, and bought it.

I shopped somewhere that regular women shop. It wasn't online where you can get plus sizes, it wasn't at a store specifically made for larger women, and it wasn't the dress I had to buy because I had no other options that would fit me.

I was with two of my best friends, and we were shopping. We were talking about colors and fabrics and cuts and fit and prices and labels and where we could wear outfits to. I was being...a girl. Is this what it's like to go shopping with your friends? This is something I have never experienced.

I know that sounds crazy. But imagine it. Would you want to go shopping with your girlfriends when you can't fit into anything in the store? On the rare occasion that I would go shopping with friends, you could find me in the earrings section, or the hats, or any other accessory in which size didn't matter. But most of the time, you would find me waiting outside, or in the bookstore next door, or any other place that I felt like I could fit in and I didn't have sales girls judging me, thinking "Why is she in here? We have nothing that fits her..."

But not today. Today is a big step. Today is a milestone. Today is a day that I stepped into a dressing room, tried on a sleeveless black dress, and was surprised. Pleasantly. I look different now. I can wear something sleeveless without a sweater over it.

To top off this epic day...one of the little girls at our after school, Penelope, looked up at me and said "You look skinny." She's ten, and has no concept yet of being a complimentary, encouraging friend, even when it might not be true. That's why I know things are changing. And that's why this feeling tastes sweeter than any food I can turn to for comfort.

Come on, world. We're making moves.

-Liz