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!

"You are f**king worthy!"

A sign from my friend's classroom. Kids need to hear this.
So do we.

So I am two weeks out of surgery. My days are pretty basic right now. I have a few regimens I have to keep. I take 10 vitamins a day at very specific times. I have to find a way to get at least 80 grams of protein in and 100 ounces of water. No sugar, and no carbs. That is more challenging than it seems since I can't chug water or eat anything quickly. I eat with a baby spoon and it takes me about 30 minutes to try and eat an egg. But good news! I can eat an egg!

One of my favorite basic things right now is walking with friends. I have had great walks with great friends almost every day. Our bodies want to move, it's part of recovery. Most of these walks turn to deep conversation quickly, which I LOVE. Because let's be real...that's what matters most.

My friend and I were talking about life and love and how we settle for second best so much in life. We talked about this idea that people use love as currency. I will only give you as much love as you will give me, I will spend love like money, and I will withhold love like money. Why do we do that?

I think that all of us, in different seasons, have settled because we don't think we deserve more. That someone, somehow along the way, has put something in our heads to make us believe we don't deserve everything. I know I have. For years and years and years.  So instead of working through pain, I would stuff it down with food. Instead of reaching out to others, I would reach into a drive-thru window.

It's amazing what happens when the thing I used to always turn to for comfort, is no longer an option. I used to live to eat. Truly. Now, I am struggling to eat to live. Protein shakes are keeping me alive. And I am finding so much more comfort from people in my life. More than I ever dreamed I would. And that would not have happened if I didn't let go of the comfort I was seeking in food.

Let's not waste anymore time. Let's stop keeping a record of wrongs and start trusting each other. Let's spend love without caring about how much we get back. At the end of my walk on Tuesday, and our conversation around this, my friend declared "You are f**king worthy!" She is so right. We all are.

We all are.

When the boat splits from the dock.

When I was in high school, I worked at a young life camp in New York called Lake Champion. I was there volunteering for 5 weeks, and it was the best summer of my life for all the reasons. One of those transformational experiences that every 17 year old needs and longs for.

I worked in the kitchen, and on a break one day I went on a little boat ride across the lake with one of my staff friends. We got back to the dock so I could go back to work. Right at that time, all of the kids were getting out of club (which is like a big assembly) and about 500 of them were walking along the waterfront. 

I got up to hop out of the boat. I put one foot on the dock, and kept one foot in the boat. And I hesitated. I hesitated just long enough to look down and watch in slow motion terror as the boat split from the dock. And my legs split from each other. And the windmill arms started, and I took a swim.

I took a swim wearing jeans and kitchen gear (complete with apron). Have you ever tried to gracefully emerge from lake water in jeans and an apron? Don't.

The best part as I shimmied myself up onto the dock was the silence from 500 high schoolers on the waterfront. But then, the impending applause and general laughter at the balancing act they just got to see. To this day, watching windmill arms when someone's falling is one of my favorite things. Because when have windmill arms ever saved you from falling?!

The morale of the story? Don't hesitate. When you need to jump, jump. Don't waffle between where you were and where you're going. I am finding it so scary to navigate this new life that is revealing itself to me, because I don't trust it yet. I still think I will be the one medical anomaly for whom duodenal switch surgery doesn't work for. Even though I have lost 39 pounds since I started the program (and that's down 20 pounds since July 11th surgery date), I still can't picture what's to come as the scale continues to go down. And I still can't believe it's going to work, because I have lost weight before and then watched it come back.

The boat left the dock for me on July 11th. The good news is that I was safely drugged up on the dock when the boat left. I didn't have a choice to stay in it. Now I get to explore this new land that the dock is connected to.

Shed the pounds, shed the tears.

This is the bench on White Street in
downtown Wake Forest that has hosted
many life changing conversations for me.
Today was no different. And Georgie was
there to supervise, as usual!

I ventured out of the house this morning to sit with a friend in downtown Wake Forest. It was a game changer, for a lot of reasons.

I think having weight loss surgery has opened me up to a lot more self-reflection than I was anticipating. And as I am watching the scale go down, I am feeling things welling up within me.

Shed the pounds, shed the tears.

My friend this morning challenged me to put myself out there more. And I will. What I might need to explain is that, I have used my weight as a physical barrier from the world. So as that barrier is bound to come down completely in the next few months, I anticipate being exposed to the world more than ever. I also anticipate being open to the world more than ever.

And that's the goal.

We all have our vices, and some of us have our addictions. My addiction isn't drugs or alcohol, but food. And I have the unlucky benefit of wearing my addiction for the world to see. Sometimes I wish I had a more secret issue that is hidden away from the world. But the weight issue, for me, has been a banner I have carried, and will carry in order to help other people if I can.

So for those of us hiding ourselves from the world...let's stop. Because I know for sure that the world needs the parts of ourselves we are most afraid to show. The vulnerable, scared side. It took a conversation on a bench on White Street this morning for me to realize that. And, it takes the love of a friend to recognize and encourage that in us.

"If you weren't afraid of being yourself to people, how would that change the world?"

XO

"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!

Nothing but grateful.

I was fortunate enough to go to our area's Young Life banquet last night. I saw SO MANY old friends. People I used to lead with, people I went to college with, women that have shaped my faith and walked with me through pain over the years, and kids that I know now who are experiencing Young Life for the first time like I did when I was in high school.

I was reminded how God uses other people to change our lives. And I was reminded to be grateful for that.

My whole life, God has been trying to talk to me through other people. In high school, a woman named Carol took an interest in me, asked me to come to Young Life, and that decision she made to show up at Unionville High School changed my life. And because of her faith, I have grown and God has used me to change the lives of others.

My recent back injury has been another great example of this. I had no idea of the support system I had until I was down and out. Just this morning I was able to wake up and go work out without my two hour time window to stretch and ice my back. I was so grateful to be able to walk, to feel my leg and back getting stronger, to be able to lift, to cycle, all of it.

But I am just as grateful for the people that care about me. So many people were asking about me, last night and this morning. I can't get over that. And it was a swift reminder of the things I complain about and am not grateful for.

See, tough people like me do NOT want to have to rely on others. But for the past few months, I have had to call on friends like never before. That's what happens when your toilet explodes or when you can't drive yourself home from a doctor's appointment.

I stole this picture from my friend Pam's facebook. Hopefully she's ok with it. Do I live my life being grateful? Not really. I complain about my wireless not being fast enough. My grocery store clerk for taking too long. My paycheck not having enough zeros.

Today I am going to practice the art of gratefulness. I'm going to suck at it, but I am going to keep trying. And to those of you that have encouraged me with your words, notes, texts, emails, and all points in between...you have turned this tough girl into a complete softie.

And I am grateful.

-Liz

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

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

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 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

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

Dear high school me...

Last weekend I went up to PA to visit my family and to meet my friend Dee so we could road trip back down to NC together.

I had some downtime on Saturday, so I decided to go over to my alma mater's track and run a little bit. Things have certainly changed since I was at Unionville High School. Now the track is crazy fancy, the football field is turf, and there are advertising billboards everywhere. When I went there, the track was gravel, the football field was full of divots, and the only advertising was the occasional announcement over the PA during halftime.

This is a picture of the field at the high school. This is also a picture of me beginning a reminiscing process that took me back to high school me. High school me hated this track. She feared it. She watched people run around it and wonder how they did it. She had to take P.E. on it and used the old "I have cramps" excuse more than a few times. (sorry, boys...TMI?)

She was also very insecure, and hid her body behind clothes that were baggy, made for boys, and plain enough to never draw attention to herself. She was defeated, knowing there was more out there for her, but afraid to try.

So last Saturday, I took high school me for a run. And we did the fastest 4 mile run I have EVER done. 4 miles in 48 minutes. That's a big deal. Each lap around that track was a marked victory for me. This lap is for high school me, to remind me that I can do it. This one is for high school me, to reclaim the dignity I never showed to myself. This one is for high school me, to give me back the respect and worth that I deserve. Lap after lap after lap.

It is good for us to reminisce. It is VERY good for us to confront the past and not let it poison our present. So go down memory lane if you are so bold, but make sure you bring Jesus with you. Last Saturday, He was pretty clear about running with me around memory lane, but then driving with my friend Dee and I back to North Carolina, to a present where things are looking brighter and brighter.

-Liz

The Road Less Traveled

I had a very interesting day. Two big things happened, and I can't tell which is more newsworthy.

Ok, so this first picture is of me with some of my high school friends doing some team building activities today. The notable thing in this picture is, however...my shorts.

I have had these shorts for a while. Mostly as a joke for skits about working out and wearing too-tight clothes. See, I could never wear shorts like this. And if I did. I couldn't move at all in them for fear of splitting my shorts. Most embarrassing moment.

But now, I can. This is a crazy thing to me. I have always worn LONG shorts. Boy shorts. Because they hide my legs. Now I am finding, all this working out is paying off and my legs look...tough. They are going to get tougher, but they are already taking shape. This is a crazy thing, my friends. To hide your body your whole life and then be ok to show off, even if it's just legs...this is victory. My joke about becoming more promiscuous as I lose weight just might not be a joke anymore.

Just kidding, Mom.

The other big thing that happened today? I ran 6 miles. Down this trail. The American Tobacco Trail. It can be boring, it can be monotonous. But for me today, it was a time for reflection with me and Jesus. As I was running, I was thinking about where I came from, what I have been doing to get where I am, and the things that I think now that I NEVER thought I would think.

Could I ever not sit on the couch and snack while watching tv? Could I ever stop going to food for comfort? Could I ever enjoy exercising and not just want it to be done? Could I ever see God in the midst of all of this?

It's amazing how God has taken me on a road that I never thought I would travel. I don't know when it happened, or when my heart changed, but things are moving from my head to my heart, and this is a victory.




It's time to travel down a new road.  Let's do it together. I'm really fun on road trips. Try me.

-Liz

Guilt is a great motivator.

I woke up this morning feeling super blah. This transition back into my daily life from Jamaica has been hard. An annoying reality for me is that the food and eating and weight part of it has been the hardest. All of a sudden, I am right back into the obsession of my body, my progress, my insecurity, my fear of failure.

It's funny how, when we're hurt, we think no one can ever understand. And because we feel that way, we decide to separate ourselves, pull away, and lock ourselves into this self-imposed prison of despair and unrealistic sadness.  So I start feeling guilty. I feel guilty about being so wrapped up in my problems, I feel guilty for not logging in my food journal last week, I feel guilty for eating that small piece of cake at Christmas dinner.

I feel guilty. And I am finding that guilt is a great motivator that I use against myself, and against others. But the way it bites you back, is that it makes you worse off than you were before.

When someone hurts me, do I make them feel guilty by withholding love from them in the hopes of teaching them a lesson? When someone doesn't call me back, do I make them feel guilty by withholding forgiveness from them? When I eat something I shouldn't, do I let that guilty feeling carry me through the rest of the day, since I already blew it that day? And since that day is ruined, why not take the week off? And before I know it, I am my own biggest critic. I have lost my identity and security. I have guilted myself into believing that I am not worth more.

I am worth more than this. And so are you. So let's all agree to stop letting guilt motivate us to hate ourselves and give up on ourselves. This stupid cycle has to stop.

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has gone, the new has come." - 2nd Corinthians 5:17.

YOU ARE NEW! I AM NEW! Every day, every decision, every second does not have to affect the next. Don't let it. Don't let the dark past ruin your bright future.

The old has gone, the new has come.

-Liz