Practicing being brave

Practicing being brave because, clearly, this is not Georgie's
favorite situation to be in. But one day, it will be!

So my second dog, Georgie, just got back from "camp" for three weeks. What is camp you might wonder? He lived with a trainer for three weeks and worked on potty training, basic commands, and social anxiety. But as his trainer put it, he spent a lot of time "practicing being brave."

This phrase made me laugh at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought how perfectly it defines not just my dog's emotions, but mine. This practice is necessary for my shy dog because he is putting himself out there and meeting people when he would rather sit at home and play video games.

Wait, that's me.

Social anxiety in humans is mimicked in their dogs. I now have two dogs that struggle with new environments and comfort with new people. Ok God, I get it. So the three members of my household are now practicing being brave together. Today that meant that Shiloh, Georgie, and I went to the little main street in my town and sat on a bench while motorcycles, strollers, and people walked by. We even ran into a group of ladies leaving a Wednesday knitting club and they gave my dogs lots of practice! (told you I live in a small town)

That was great practice for Georgie and Shiloh. But what about me? Well, I practiced being brave today by pulling myself off the couch, turning off Vanderpump Rules, and going for a work out. I know it was brave because I didn't want to do it. I wanted to order a pizza. Or get Panera (and not the healthy kind of Panera). I get tired of the effort, and the journey, and the working out, and the not eating McDonalds. But being healthy is a daily choice. And right now, it is my daily practice of being brave.

It's easy to do what we've always done. But it's lonely. And to get what I've never had, I have to do what I've never done. Georgie and Shiloh say "AMEN!"

Oh and did I mention that Georgie starts training tomorrow to become a therapy dog? Imagine this face in hospitals and hospice facilities bringing joy into worlds of grief. I MEAN.

Shrinking circles.

A wise, dear friend of mine, who happens to be legally blonde and legally blind, told me a few years ago that as you get older, your circles shrink. And that, with those shrinking circles, you lose your self-confidence in relationships with age.

That was lost on me ten years ago, but our conversation never left me and lately I am realizing just how right she was and still is.

Remember when you were in college how you had that core group of friends that hung out EVERY weekend? It was just understood that the 10 or 20 of you had standing plans. And then you get out of college and you hold on to that group as long as you can. Some get married, some move away, but the rest of you keep it alive for as long as careers and marriages and pregnancies allow.

Over the years, the circle shrinks. And I don't think it's just because of relationship quantity. I think it might be more about relationship quality. We always say that we would rather have one or two great friends than ten acquaintances, but we don't really mean it until it slaps us in the face in your thirties. Some of you smart people saw it earlier than me, but I haven't seen it clearly until lately.

Being ok with who you are means shrinking circles. It means you don't allow yourself to be all things to all people. It means you trade popularity for depth, quantity for quality. It means you are often lonely because you crave that depth and won't settle for less.

Shiloh. 100% havanese, 100% adorable.

Believe it or not, this is all in my brain because of Shiloh. I have fought dog ownership my whole life but now that I have him, he is teaching more about life than I thought. Someone asked me last week "Does he know he's yours?" What a question. What a deep, beautiful, life altering question.

And in true God fashion, he put that question to me: "Do you know you're mine?"

In the midst of shrinking circles, yes I do. The disappearance of my social game has allowed room for God. Is it possible that my circles are shrinking just so God can grow in the spots once filled by disappointment?

If shrinking circles means quality over quantity, then I am in. And I will no longer beat myself up for expecting the same out of my friends. May we all live up to the kind of relationships that Jesus had with his boys. Thousands of followers, twelve disciples, but really - Peter, James, and John. The three guys that were privy to the most exclusive circle in history.

If three friends was good enough for Jesus, my shrinking circles shouldn't be an issue. And hey, I will always have my dog!

-Liz

What my motorcycle has taught me about life

I'm not a big bucket-lister. Not as much as most people, anyway. And if you know me, you know that I am not much of a thrill seeker. Roller coasters make me motion sick (shout out the Cary Y youth department), jumping out of a perfectly good airplane doesn't make sense to me, and ropes courses aren't my thing.

But motorcycles have always been my thing.

I think I have always wanted a motorcycle, and a few months ago I finally bought one. (Side note: don't tell a lot of people you want a motorcycle. Most respond with the stories of broken backs and road side deaths.)

Every weekend I try to get a ride in for at least an hour. This weekend, I got two rides in. I've stopped planning on where I am going. I've started focusing on the ride.

And that, my friends, is counter intuitive to everything I have ever thought about life.

When I was younger, I had aspirations to be a rock star. Or an artist. Or the next great missionary. And then life rolls on and aspirations come down to earth a little more: to be married. To be skinny. To buy a house. To own a black Tahoe.

Aspirations are important. But for me, they blinded me to the journey. I was so busy planning on where I was going, that I didn't enjoy the ride.

When you're on a motorcycle, it's the air. The speed. The smell of spring. The freedom. The color. Today, as I was heading home, I passed my neighborhood and stayed out just a little longer. I wasn't ready to go home yet. I was enjoying the ride so much. (And listening to classic Bruce Springsteen, which also helps.)

We need to enjoy the ride more. A LOT more. We need to stop focusing on "if I just get 'there'  I'll be happy." 'There' is a myth. 'Here' matters more. I kept thinking today of all the people I ignored because I was trying to go some place that I thought was so important.

I have three hundred more things that my motorcycle has taught me about life, but I will save them. Until then, I am trying to form a biker gang, SAMCRO style but without all the murdering and stuff.
Interested? I need some road dogs.

-Liz

Dear Diary. Daily.

Every day. Every single day.

Yesterday was round 2 of steroid injections. And I was all "Hey, this will be no big deal! Last time it was actually kind of fun!"

I am so naive.

This time, Dr. Bhat got me. And he got me good. Was he mad at me? Bad morning at the golf course? Obamacare got him down? Whatever it was, he took it out on me, and my bare butt (yeah he's seen my beautiful booty twice now and has yet to buy me a meal) on that x-ray table.

Someone asked me what it felt like. You know that sensation when you might accidentally chew tin foil and it hits a filling? (note: who "accidentally chews tin foil'? Me. But it happened more when I was a kid. So I am not sure what my parents were feeding me?

Or what about the feeling when you get a paper cut? But not an ordinary paper cut. This paper cut is from the lip of a manilla envelope and it's in the webbing of your hand or something.

Or if your knee cap momentarily slips out of its home and you were like "what the heck just happened to my body?"

So yeah, add those three things together and multiply them by 5 or so...it's a math problem. A painful one.

But I also said to the doctor and nurse "This hurts WAY more than last time! So that means it's going to work!" I didn't get the resounding high fives I was looking for. I think they were just appeasing me. But I am excited nonetheless.

I am up this morning, and I feel less numbness in my leg. Great sign. I can put more weight on my left leg. Great sign. I have more hope than ever. Great sign.

I do feel like God has said to me "Why has it taken this debilitating injury to get some time with you?" He's right. So I have been practicing that art of surrender and purposefully writing in my journal every morning, THANKING Him for this. Not for causing this (because He didn't...deadlifts did) but for using the pain for good. Beauty out of brokenness. And at the end of each entry I tell him that I love him and I ask for one thing: "God, please heal my body."

Because I know God can. And God will. Stay tuned...

-Liz

White flag.

This woman has wisdom. AND a
motorcycle license.
Perfect combination.

Another early morning where instead of doing what I would choose to do if I was able (work out), I have to do what was chosen for me. Ice my back. Make coffee. Take medication. Sit with God. This is the 2 hour window that I need to prep for my day so I can actually be a walking, functioning member of society.

Tomorrow I have round two of my spine injections. I am putting a lot of hope in tomorrow. What God is asking me this morning: "Why can't you put THAT much hope in Me, today?" I still don't trust God fully. That is disappointing.

The temptation here is to hurry up the healing. But isn't that our way? "As soon as this is over, everything will be great." "If only I was past this, I could get back on track." "If I just didn't have to deal with this, I would be more thankful."

I am learning how to wave the white flag here. I have to surrender. I can fight this all I want, and cry every day about it (which happens each morning, like clock work), or I can surrender. I preach surrender to other people every day. But now it's time for me to man up and do it myself.

I am a fixer. I want to fix things and immediately move on. I equate this problem with that stupid show "Extreme Home Makeover." (sorry if you like it, but it is really emotional propoganda.) They set out to do great things. They rebuild a home in a week. I always wanted them to go back to that house a year later to see how it's fallen apart because of the carelessness of rushing through a renovation.

I want to be renovated by God from the foundation up. And I can only imagine how much time that takes. Because I am tough. And God knows that. He also knows how long this will take so that the change will actually stick.

So it's white flag time. For me. And maybe for something in your life too?

-Liz

You. Are. Awesome.

Tonight I was honored to speak at the Cary Y Leaders Club inductions ceremony. How do I motivate a group of leaders and also keep the interests of their parents? I was open about the fact that, for most of my life, I have struggled with how to let God decide my self-worth, and not other people. That my mistakes don't define me and that God created me to be uniquely me.

In other words, why do I try so hard to fit in when I was born to stand out?

Tonight I am grateful. In the midst of body pain and hopelessness, I was encouraged and loved by so many families that know me, and so many that became new friends tonight. I have an amazing job that allows me a platform to speak of the love of Jesus Christ.


So here's to encouragement. Here's to those of you following God's plan right where you are: to love Him and love others. 

I am humbled. Thank you, Cary Leaders Club for teaching me something great tonight. And remember: You. Are. Awesome.

-Liz

Who do you run to?

I've been watching my reaction to life changes lately. This is a sobering yet very necessary process.

The biggest life pattern I've seen is how I run to food in the midst of...whatever. Whatever emotion it is, you name it, I run to food. It's usually different foods for different moods, but it's still always food. A cheap imitation of what I am really looking for.

See, I think we complicate our lives and reason away our need for God. We run to other things simply out of pride. Because if I run to God instead, I am admitting that I am not the center of my universe and that I just might need help because I am out of control. Gasp.

I am kicking around this idea of writing down all of the painful food moments I have had in my life. All the ways I have used food as a comfort, an escape, a companion, a horrible friend. This list is long and embarrassing. Every day some other moment pops up that reminds me of how I have used food in the past to try and fill that God shaped hole in me. But don't fool yourself, you have that hole too. And I bet there is something that you try to fill it with. Maybe for you it's not food. Maybe it's a guy. Or a job. Or a sport. Or a religion. None of these things replace the relationship with Jesus that we were made for.

So why do we keep doing it?

Last week I was lucky enough to attend the Willow Creek Leadership Summit in Chicago. I still have a brain hangover from it. It also showed me some ugly things about myself and my reactions to pain. When people hurt me (and I feel so deeply that this happens more than you think), I don't run to God. I run to food. Because food never changes. I know exactly what those Cool Ranch Doritos will taste like, and I need to numb the pain of being hurt, even for a few moments with Dorito crumbs on my fingers.

I wish we would all stop being so tough. I wish we would all climb over these walls we've built. But I know that the reality is that I can't make that change for the whole world, although I will devote my life to trying. I will also commit to running towards the only permanent, loving, eternal person in my life. The person that knows me better than anyone and that will never change, never hurt me, and never leave me.

No one else has claim to that place but Jesus himself.

And to be honest, I could really use some running partners.

-Liz

Sweet little lies

When I started this blog specific to my weight loss journey, it was meant for the sole purpose of holding me accountable to keep at it. I knew that, if I made it known to everyone that I was doing this, that it would be much harder for me to quit.

What it's turned into, is a place for me to be reminded that I am not alone. A lot of us feel the same way, whether or not we've ever admitted it. Today I am struggling with something that I know is universal. It doesn't matter if you're battling weight loss, or if it's something else. Whatever it is, this concept, for me, is all the same:

What happens when you start believing lies?

Over the past few weeks, here are a few lies that I have believed. See, believing in these lies temporarily, even for a moment, creates a setback for me, because it only takes a second for me to fall off the wagon and do something stupid.

Have you ever believed one (or all) of these lies?

1. You can't do it. You'll probably never get to where you want to be, and you've gone pretty far, so give yourself a break.
2. Nobody really knows how you feel.
3. You've talked about this enough with people, they are sick of hearing about it.
4. You deserve this. You need a break. You'll start tomorrow.
5. It's not that big of a deal.
6. _______ doesn't struggle with this, so why should you?

On and on and on, right? I heard a woman in church say something awesome that immediately made me tear up because, she was reading my mind:
"As soon as God asks you to do something, Satan will work overtime to stop you from doing it."

Let me be clear. I believe there is light in this world, and if I believe that, then I have to believe that there is dark in this world. If I believe there is a God, I have to believe there is an enemy. And the enemy doesn't want you to succeed. If you succeed, you will be powerful. You will be closer to God and then darkness loses.

We know that Jesus Christ conquered death. So He has already conquered these lies for us. Yet, we still believe them.

Why do we believe them?

I am learning that it is easier to believe the lies. It is easier to settle. It is easier to do whatever we want. It is easier to believe that we are not worth it, that we were not made for more. It is easier to believe that we, at best, are...

Average.

It is hard for me to say no to cupcakes. It is hard for me to go to meetings where there is a bowl of M&Ms on our table and not eat them (this happened last week, and yes, I ate them). It is hard for me to watch tv at home and not want to snack for hours. It is hard for me to get up in the morning and put on my running shoes and work out. It is hard for me to say no to certain social situations where everyone else can eat whatever they want and not have it directly affect their heart and soul like it does for me.

But it is better.

You and I are not average. We are called to a greater purpose. But there is something that is in the way. Something that prevents us from fully becoming the person the God has made us to be. And when we start to face that thing, that's when we believe the lies and the battle gets serious. It gets serious, because it is truly a BATTLE for your heart and soul. When we lessen the seriousness of the struggle, we lessen our own value and self-worth and before you know it, here we are. Living a paltry version of the abundant life we were created for.

Haven't we been believing lies about ourselves for too long? What would happen if we started believing the truth?

You were made for more than this.

-Liz

When the sun goes down, so does my willpower.

I got a great FB message from a friend today who struggles with...wait for it...snacking late at night. WHO DOES THAT?

Is everyone raising their hand right now? Cause I am.

Ok, here is her email:

"SO..weird thing is, when you facebooked me back..I didn't respond bc i was falling off the wagon...when i wrote you first i was doing SO well! lost 23 lbs and tHEN....ive gained 10 back. How do you continue to stay motivated?? Thats what im missing! food plays such a big part in my life, when im happy, sad, lonely, entertianment or just plain hungry!....ive noticed just recently i can go all day eating so healthy! and then night comes and i eat EVERYTHING in sight...literally thousands of calories and i cant break that habit! so everything i do during the day gets cancelled out by night time. I love following your blog bc i feel that you understand what im going through. Let me know if you have any tips at all..greatly appreciated! :)"

Can you relate?

So last night, I got home home around 6:30 and ate dinner. Then, the night time is here. Shoot. The tv comes on, and so does my desire for snacking. I had been eating great all day! Was I about to blow it by eating whatever I want while watching RHONJ? (Team Manzo all the way.)

Here's the thing: mindless eating is just that...MINDLESS. We are stuffing things into our mouths without even looking at what's going in there. No portions, no rules, and sometimes, no chewing. Just that general shoveling motion. I have some tips that have worked for me in the past, so take or leave whatever might work for you:

1. Don't eat straight out of the bag. Those calories are adding up, and they will end up on your love handles. Trust me. Portion out whatever you want, and take a small bowl to the couch, NOT the whole bag.
2. Cookie time? Try Luna Fiber bars, or Clif Kidz bars. Both are only about 120 calories and taste like Nutrigrain bars or can be great cookie substitutes. Clif Kidz bars have awesome flavors (Oatmeal and Honey Graham are the bomb). If you love brownies, get the Fiber One peanut butter brownies. Oh. My. Gosh.
3. Skinny Cow Ice Cream. If you just HAVE to have ice cream. These are right around 100 calories and come in a ton of varieties. Basically, you just have to find substitutes that work for you.
4. If you have $250 to spare, I highly recommend getting a Vitamix blender. The Ninja blender is another option (about $100) that people use and like. Both of these will blend leafy greens down to a pulp and you can hide your vegetables in fruit smoothies. For instance, last night I did two bananas, almond milk, ice, spinach, and Hershey's syrup and it's the closest thing I can get to a milkshake without impeding all my progress.
5. Sometimes you're not really hungry, but thirsty. For some weird reason, ice cold water will get me through that initial craving part of the night where I am DYING for something to eat. Your body might just want something to drink and fill you up. Try that one, it might work!
6. Find something else to occupy your hands. Try smoking! Sike. Try video games, or a puzzle, or going for a walk or reading. Watching tv, for me, always means snacking, so I had to change up that routine. I think my hands just got used to automatically feeding my mouth. Sort of like a trained dog. But we are not dogs. Food is not our reward.
7. The kitchen is closed. At around 8pm, I need to declare OUT LOUD that the kitchen is closed. No more snacks, no more nothing. I can have water, and fruits and veggies, but nothing else. Give yourself about 4 hours before bed to declare that you are done eating for the night.
8. Think about how you will feel in 5 minutes. The cravings I get, as soon as I satisfy them, are gone imeediately. And then they are replaced by guilt and regret. How many times have you said "Why did I just eat that?" How many times do you want to say "I'm so proud that I didn't eat that."
9. Do the math. According to this article, One single tortilla chip topped with 7-layer dip would take 9.5 minutes of stair climbing to burn off. There is more scary statistics in the link, but it opens my eyes to why the heck I am eating like I eat.
10. Be a smart grocery store shopper. It sounds crazy, but don't go alone if you can't handle it. Don't push by the ice cream section if it's too much. And don't ever go to the grocery store hungry. This spells disaster for even the strongest person.

Hope this helps. And thank you to my friend for asking a practical food question. This is good for all of us, because we are NOT alone.

Amen!
-Liz

When stupid sayings come true.

"The journey is the destination."

What a stupid saying. At least, that's what I've always thought. I hate admitting when I'm wrong.

A few days ago I fell off the wagon pretty hard. I had some alone time, so I decided to get Cookout. Cheeseburger, onion rings, and a milkshake. I was bracing myself for that terrible feeling of guilt and gluttony afterwards. But it never came. You know what did come? Satisfaction. So that began two days of eating whatever I wanted, not counting calories, and chasing that overfull feeling. At the end of day two, I was actually done with it. It was like I went to visit an old boyfriend, had a fling, and then remembered why I broke it off with him.

Pretty soon, I will hit the one year mark of when I really started doing this weight loss thing. Lately I have found myself in that desert though...where I am not where I was, but I'm not where I want to be. I'm not at my destination. Will I ever get there?

But what if...I'm already there?

And so brings me to my true confession...yes, it's true. The journey is the destination. If I keep living like I am waiting for this to be over, like I am waiting to finally get there, I will always be disappointed and in a rush. I will never live up to my own expectations, and I will be heartbroken.

So I am going to embrace that cheesy saying and admit that it's true. I never believed other people when they said that to me, but they were right. It just took me a while to get there myself. I need to quit being a snob.

Now, let's all get off the internet and journey outside for a run. Keep fighting for yourself!

-Liz

The glass slipper of motorcycle jackets

November 2011

I don't have the energy to write a well thought out post today. But I didn't want to pass over a cool moment I had this weekend.

I really want to get a motorcycle soon, against my better judgment. The serious downside to riding a motorcycle is that I can, well, die...but that doesn't hold a candle to how AWESOME I would look pulling up to work on a motorcycle. Like everything in my life, being a bad ass is priority one, so we'll see what wins out.

Last weekend, my friends Pam and Barb rode with me to try on motorcycle jackets at Cycle Gear. The jacket that I have now is a men's jacket and is like 3 sizes too big. I only wore it once back in October when we took our riding class, and now it just sits in my closet.

The big win for me was that I tried on a women's jacket. And it fit. And it wasn't even the biggest size that they had. Last fall, when we all went there, I couldn't find a jacket in the whole store that could fit me...men's, women's, whatever. Nothing. Now I was in the women's section.

Imagine that. A woman shopping for women's clothes. Even if they happen to be women's motorcycle jackets.

-Liz

Do you know that this is the fight of your life?

I have watched the scale go down this week. Then up. Conversely, I have watched my emotions go up, then down. More than that, I am slowly seeing the reality of the fight that I am in.

And today I am wondering if maybe some of us don't realize the fight that we're in?

When I started all this, it was about losing weight, but I had a feeling that it was about a lot more than that. So just like peeling back an onion, I didn't realize all the layers, all the depth, and all the tears that would come.

Today I feel like everyone around me is feeling this way. That this is MUCH bigger than we all thought it was. I actually just got done working out with my friend Lauren. Neither of us wanted to work out. Both of us were yawning on the treadmills. 2 pm workouts are not smart, but today it was our only option. We were bored. We powered through. And then we talked about the situations we are both in. We lost weight. We gained some back. We overate. We are trying to get back on track. We struggle, we struggle, we struggle.

For what?

Do you know how I know that this is the fight of my life? Because food has had control of me for WAY too long. My weight has held me back from LIFE. And if weight isn't your issue, maybe something else is. Maybe something else is trying to fill the place in your heart that only God can fill. What is it? The way you can figure it out is to ask yourself one important question: "What do you run to when you need comfort?"

All week, I have had friends say things to me like this:

• I wish this was over.
• I don't feel good about myself, so I don't want to go.
• I had a family crisis, and I immediately ran to food.
• I found myself eating ice cream in bed at 10 pm last night, because of stress.
• I have been eating crap all week, and I feel like crap.

This is the fight of your LIFE. Make no mistake. And don't play it off like it's not a big deal. Don't go out to girls night and eat what they eat because you are "celebrating." Don't buy ice cream at the grocery store and bring it home because it's "not a big deal." Don't skip your workouts this week because you just "need a break."

You know what we need a break from? Living in bodies that we feel uncomfortable in. Beating ourselves up. Letting our weight consume our emotions. Working SO HARD to lose weight, only to let ourselves gain it all back and feel even worse.

THIS, my friends, is what we need a break from. So whatever your next step is, watch where you put your feet. And make sure they aren't in the frozen foods section.

-Liz

Cross your legs.

Trust me when I say, there are a thousand things going on in my head. I need to write a blog about how I am ACTUALLY losing weight, practical ways to do it. I need to write a blog about the self-discipline changes in my life, I need to write a blog about community and change and distance and fear but the topic that will win today is:

Crossing my legs.

It's crazy how I can't see the difference in my body like other people again. It just proves how skewed our view of ourselves is. I have lost 76 pounds since September. But there are days where I still feel that I look the same. The coolest indicator for me lately, however...is being able to cross my legs.

When I was in middle school I was in church choir. I remember that we had a special performance one year and all the girls were to sit at the front of the stage and our choir director instructed us to wear black skirts, and to sit with our knees together, or to cross one leg over the other so we all looked the same. Performance day came and I crossed my legs like the other girls and after the first set of songs, my mom discretely told me "don't cross your legs anymore, because the congregation can see a little too much."

Embarrassing at the time, but a reality now that my legs, since middle school, haven't been crossable since. And it's really only been in the last few months that the comfortable way for me to sit has been to cross my legs. You probably take that for granted. You also might take for granted the fact that you can sit in any chair with arms without wondering if you can fit in that chair. There is an average-sized world of people that has no anxiety over chairs, booths, seats, rides, and everything in between.

I look at my legs now, and I can't believe how awesome they look. I can't believe I can sit in a chair with arms and see extra room in the seat. Honestly. I don't think I'll ever get over how crazy that is. But I feel like such a bad ass when I cross my legs. I try to do it every chance I get.

I have a lot of years to make up for, after all.

-Liz

...the agony of defeat.

Over the 4th of July week, I went to Mexico to an all-inclusive resort. For some people, moderation relates to the unlimited alcohol you can get there. For me, moderation related to the unlimited food that I got there.

I haven't truly recovered since.

Getting back on track is so hard. SO hard. It's hard for me to come to terms with the scale. It hasn't dipped down to where it used to be. I am tired, I don't want to do the 60 minutes of cardio that I need to do. I don't want to eat well. I want to do...whatever I want.

Pride.

Since the rollercoaster ride was over, I tasted victory that made me feel like I was done with all this. I have gotten too comfortable in this new size so I am not going after losing weight like I need to. I have lost the sense of urgency, forgotten that this is the fight of my life, and ignored it.

Mistake.

Yesterday I pulled myself upstairs to work out. I got on the elliptical and decided to listen to sermons instead of music. I thought of Elevation Church in Charlotte because my friend Cameron goes there. I ended up listening to two random sermons by Steven Furtick.

The first one was about facing your fears (you can find it here). In the middle of it, the pastor said, and I quote (from memory, so it's truly paraphrased):

"Maybe you eat because you're happy, or you're sad. You're celebrating, or your mourning, you're lonely, or you're in community. Overeating is never about a lack of discipline, it's about the presence of fear. Fear is preventing you from living out the life that God has intended for you."

Why was this 30-something, thin pastor guy talking about overeating? Needless to say, I was on the elliptical CRYING. Sweating and crying. I figured it was ok since tears look like my sweat drops anyway. Whatever.

Then the 2nd sermon (you can find it here, try to ignore the cool guy soul patch vibe)...was based on only one verse: 1st Samuel 16:1 which says:

The Lord said to Samuel, “How long will you mourn for Saul, since I have rejected him as king over Israel? 

So the gist of his sermon is this: How long will you continue to mourn for what God has rejected?

How long will I continue to mourn for what God has rejected? For some of us, it's a bad relationship. For some of us, it's an addiction to anything - a person, a thing, a place, a time of life, a job, you name it.

For me, it's my reliance on food. And Furtick CALLS THAT ONE OUT specifically in his sermon! God spoke to me directly through my stupid iPhone podcast on the stupid elliptical. How long will I continue to mourn for Bojangles, for Ben and Jerry, for Krispy Kreme, for feeling painfully full and using food as my comfort? God has clearly rejected this in my life, I have just chosen to ignore Him.

So I went home and I erased my white board with my "# of pounds to next goal" written on it. I need to reset. I need to start over. I need to live today in victory, and that means letting go of the weight I gained back. I am trying to.

Maybe this is Phase 2. Or maybe it's Phase 32. I don't know. I just know that I have to roll with the punches and not give up. I have to move on, realize the seriousness of the battle, and let go of the past.

How long will YOU continue to mourn over something that God has rejected?

-Liz

The thrill of victory immediately followed by...

The past 48 hours have been...a lot.
On Tuesday, I rode my first rollercoaster since I was 12. Why did I wait so long? Because since I was 12, I was just too big to fit.

Too big to fit. Feels like the story of my life.

But not anymore.

The pictures attached to this post are hilarious. And strange. I would love to say that I rode the Intimidator at Carowinds with the city of Charlotte in the distance, beneath me, feeling the thrill of victory.



I'm so excited! This is gonna be...easy?

 The truth is, I was scared to death. But we arrived at the park, and it was the first ride we did. Go big or go home, right? If you want to know how big the Intimidator is exactly, check this out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QTl7Vdy9j0Q

I wish I could explain how crazy this was for me. And the ride itself wasn't the victory. The victory came when I sat next to my friend Lauren, and my legs fit into the molded plastic seat. My butt fit. The lap band fit easily. So then I started to cry. This has been an unattainable goal for me for the past 20+ years. Not anymore.



Thumbs up (stay calm...), thumbs up (stay calm...)

 So we started going up on the Intimidator. We are drying our eyes (good friends cry with you), and it was a good thing because common sense didn't have time to kick in. We are climbing FOREVER on this thing and close to the top I was wondering how could I get off this thing (remembering, oh yeah, I am scared of heights).

All I remember is my friend clawing my arm and me yelling at her "DON'T EVER LET GO!" I also remember completely coming out of my seat at two points in the ride because the drops were so huge. That's why, in the $10 Carowinds photo I bought (I would've paid a lot more to capture this moment, trust me), I look lost, confused, and maybe a little angry.

When it was over, all of my co-workers were clapping for me. They were genuinely excited to share this moment. As soon as the thrill was over, the nausea set in. So we went to get in line for the next ride, "Nighthawk." We waited about an hour, in which time I popped a Dramamine and tried my best to not sweat so much. This thing is like a superman ride where it lays you down flat and spins you like a corkscrew. Think harnesses and dentists chairs coupled with loops and spins.

Interested?

Apparently, it earned its name for a reason.

So we get to the platform at the front of the line, and I hear something splatter about 20 feet from me. Yes, someone threw up. Needless to say, this shook my confidence before getting on this thing. It was our turn, and I still hadn't recovered from the INTIMIDATOR (all caps means it's for real). So I go to sit in the seat, and I feel the big shoulder straps, and I immediately get right back up, start to shake my finger at it and say "Nope, nope, no..." and head for the exit. Before my friend could say "What's happening?" I was walking down the stairs and heading for the exit.

If anyone asks, this IS the face of victory. Or nausea.

The rest of the day, we rode the wooden roller coasters. These were MUCH more my speed. No upside down, no death drops, just scary enough. The big victory about this day though, is that I now have the CHOICE to ride rollercoasters if I want to. I don't have to make up excuses anymore of why I don't want to. I can if I want to! And if I just happen to get motion sickness from them or they are too much for me, so be it. But I can say yes or no.

THIS my friends, is victory.

And spoiler alert for tomorrow or whenever I can get to it...today I have had to make a reset in my weight journey. For a lot of reasons. I have gained 6 pounds back in the last month, I have lost focus on Jesus, and I have lost the confidence in myself to keep going. I just want to get into it in a separate post because this is already feeling long.

(enter cliffhanger soap opera music here)

-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

Big people. Little world.

A few days ago I got back from my little "spring break" trip as I like to call it. I went with three girl friends to the Barcelo Maya Resort outside of Cancun.

I've been trying to write a blog about my trip since I came back, but I don't know where to begin. How can I explain what it feels like to finally be a part of a world that always seemed too small for me?

I tried to find an old photo of me in a bathing suit
to compare to the most recent one above, but I
realized that I didn't have one. I have NEVER
wanted anyone to take my picture in a bathing suit.

If you've never struggled with your weight, this might not apply to you. But imagine living in a world that just seems like it wasn't built for you. Everything is too small. Too tight. Too hot. Too crowded. All in all, just too much. It might make you want to - retreat.

And for my whole life, I did just that. I made a lot of excuses about why I didn't want to do things. I was afraid, I had a fear of flying, I was too tired to swim, I was too scared to snorkel. You name it, I used the excuse.

On our trip to Mexico last week, I found that my body has changed, yes, but my mind is still a SERIOUS work in progress. The thought of us trying new things scared the crap out of me. Even laying on a floatie in the ocean was a mental challenge. Would it hold me? Would I actually float on this tiny piece of air-filled plastic?

And could I really walk around in a bathing suit without wearing shorts and a t-shirt? Would people stare at me? Oh, and they had kayaking there, too. But I could never actually kayak before, I was always over the weight limit. Would the beach chairs hold me? Would the restaurant chairs have arms? How do I know that I'll fit? Will I be...embarrassed?

Never underestimate the power of a friendship.
Accountability is purely life-changing.

You see, these are the things that I have always worried about. When you are overweight, your physical body becomes a barrier to the world around you, and you get used to that. In fact, you make it that way. When you're overweight, you don't have to let anyone in. This big scary "secret struggle" is actually on display for the world to see. But it also allowed me to control everything around me.

So I don't know how to explain my trip to Mexico. I don't know how to convey how different the world is now that I can fit into it. How do I explain what it feels like to walk around in a bathing suit all day without shame? How do I describe the feeling of being just another person at a resort? How do I share with you the victory of taking a trip to a tropical resort without any fear?

Yes, we kayaked. And snorkeled. And I sat in hammocks, and beach chairs, and arm chairs, and airplane seats, and took a lot of pictures of myself in a bathing suit. Without shame. I could easily write a hundred pages about how this felt to me, but for now I can leave it at this: it feels so good to be a part of the world now.

And it fits just fine.

-Liz

My first spring break

Tomorrow I am going to a resort outside of Cancun, Mexico. It is a trip that I have been planning with three of my friends since March. This place is an all-inclusive resort with beaches, pools, spas, shows, restaurants, and all the other stuff.

This is my first spring break.

I have never gone on spring break like most typical people do. Not in high school, not in college. I have taken spring breaks, sure...but I have never done the beach thing. You know why. That would mean...bathing suits. Showing skin. Being self-conscious of my body, knowing I was the biggest one on the beach, jealous of "normal" people, and embarrassed to be the only person swimming with shorts on top of my bathing suit.

There are so many reasons I am excited for this trip tomorrow. I am excited to sit in the airplane seats. I will be able to put the armrests down and wear the seat belt comfortably! Some of you know how much of a victory this is. I will be able to fit in any beach chair, any lounge chair, wear a bathing suit and not be embarrassed.

I have a long way to go with my weight loss. But this trip is a celebration for me that I have come a long way. I need to celebrate this and not forget what God has done. I have never in my life taken a long beach trip with three girls. I have protected myself from this because it was just too embarrassing.

Not anymore, friends. Not anymore.

(side note: if you are the praying type and could remember to pray for me while we're gone, I need it. All-inclusive means...EAT ANYTHING YOU WANT. For me, it's like letting an alcoholic be in charge of a bar for 5 days. I need the prayer.)

-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