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!

You just have to go through it.

Last night I went through my closet to start getting rid of clothes that no longer fit. I tried on almost everything I had before putting it aside for Goodwill. I thought about events I wore certain clothes to. I thought about how long I had certain outfits, the friends I was with when I wore them, and how I have kept things for so long because they were too small and I now hoped I could fit into them. And here I was, missing that window, and now passing those clothes on to someone else.





I dreaded going through my closet. I'm not exactly sure why. I wanted to keep the door shut and not go through it. But when I woke up this

morning, I realized why I was so afraid to go through it: 

What if I gain all the weight back and need those clothes again?

I have been through this before. About 5 years ago, I lost 80 pounds. Then, due to a long struggle with a back injury, I had two back surgeries within two years and gained almost all the weight back. At my smallest, I gave all my clothes away, and swore I would never gain the weight back. Then I did.

That's part of the reason I sought surgical help to lose the weight and keep it off. I couldn't do it alone. And as the weight is coming off, there is still that fear that one day, it will come back on again. The fear is not logical, but that small voice is always there.

It is easier to go around things than go through them. It is easier for me to keep my closet door shut and not face the past, or fear the future. But easier is not better. I just have to go through it. When faced with pain, we have that fight or flight reaction which can be visceral and subconscious. But, I am practicing the art of being present, to let others into this struggle with me. I am choosing to fight. To go through it and not around it.

So, I am taking these clothes to Goodwill. And I am staring at an empty closet. But as a wise friend told me, this is not a phase. This is a beginning. I am finding so much value in living in this moment, and not worrying about tomorrow. We just have to go through it. Not around it.

A fork in the road.

Sometimes a seemingly unimportant decision can change everything.

So I finally broke my stall with the scale. I am moving in the right direction again, and eating has become a little easier. I am able to tolerate cheese and dairy, and it is nice to chew again! Those protein shakes were starting to get a little boring.

I am down about 55 pounds, and I can really see it. And when I don't see it, other people see it in me. Like I said in my last blog, I am learning to trust my friends. So when I still feel like that hopeless fat girl that can't lose weight, I trust the process. And I trust my friends.

This whole thing has brought up so many raw emotions for me. In the past, when I felt emotional, I would stuff it down with my favorite foods. And then I would feel the discomfort and the guilt. And I would get emotional. And stuff it down with my favorite foods. That's the cycle.

But now, I couldn't do that even if I wanted to. My body would reject it. So instead, I am going outside and walking. Or working out, or lifting weights, or just (shocker!) letting PEOPLE into my emotions, and not just food.

A friend has challenged me to run a half marathon. When she asked me I certainly thought "Me? You must be texting the wrong person." But yesterday, we went running. It was the first time for me to be running outside in years. But she stayed with me, and we made it happen. It's amazing what happens when you don't go through life alone.

Half way down the trail, God showed me unconditional love in the form of the friendliest fawn and her two babies. Yes, I pet the deer on her head. Yes, she was licking my arm. No, that's not photoshopped.

How do I know it was God? Because God is in the details. And God is unconventional. And God knows that I don't pay attention. So He came near. And He made yesterday matter. This seemingly unimportant decision to go running with my friend brought me to a fork in the road. And I chose not to do life alone anymore. I am choosing to do life with others. And God came near.

It is much easier to think you can do it alone. Take it from me, I am independent to a fault. You can't. And honestly, easier is not better. This. This is better. This is an adventure. And what fun is experiencing adventure alone?

The half marathon is in March. I signed up today, terrified but faithful. Because my friend is with me. That's how I know I'm going to be ok. 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

It's not brain surgery.

You may have won the battle, Oikos, but you
will not win the war.

I must admit, it is jarring to go from a rather hectic life of working at the YMCA (which is pretty much a 24-7 job) and being a town commissioner (which is pretty much a 24-7 job) to a life of trying to drink 8 ounces of water and keep down yogurt.

My nausea subsided yesterday, thank God! My goal yesterday was stay hydrated, and try to get in 80-100 grams of protein. It took me two hours to eat a yogurt. And I didn't come close to getting in my protein goal. But I am taking it slow and trying not to overdue it. The littlest things wear me out. I did laundry and took a shower and I felt like I had run a marathon.

But the most interesting thing I have found it how my brain is still thinking about food. It doesn't help that most commercials are about food. And not just food...how happy people are when they can eat bottomless fries and giant burgers with onion straws and mountains of cheese cake and unlimited salad and breadsticks (yes, I am talking to you, Red Robin and Olive Garden). It is surprising that those images don't nauseate me. They actually make me hungry. And a little bit sad.

But that's because my doctor operated on my gut, not my brain. My brain still wants to live like an overeater. In fact, my brain still thinks that I can. And that's the trickiest thing about the next few weeks...to focus on eating to live, not living to eat.

My kind neighbor wanted to help me and bring food over, but she stopped herself and we both laughed at how food is love. When people are sick, we bring them food. When there is a wedding, we eat cake. When there is a funeral, we bring casseroles.

One of my co-workers stopped himself when he said he wanted to set up a meal chain for me while I was out. Again, we both recognized that food is how we show love. It is so difficult to retrain our brains to think about NOT turning to food in crisis, emotions, celebrations, and social outings.

I'll let you know when I figure that one out. For today, I am focusing on conquering that greek yogurt.  And taking life one small baby spoon bite at a time. (no seriously...I had to buy baby spoons at Target...)

"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!

What a difference 72 pounds makes.

This week, I am at Blue Ridge Leaders' School with 20 of my Y kids, and 800 others from all over the southeast. This is my third trip to Blue Ridge, and let me give you some fun facts about what happens during a week here.


Here I am at Blue Ridge last summer with one of
my all-star kids, Ashley.

 A lot of walking. In the mountains. Stairs, trails, hills, valleys, and everything in between. Also, a lot of fitness classes. Everything from yoga to triathloning to ballroom dancing to soccer.

Imagine being the fat kid at fitness camp. That was me for the past two years - bringing kids up to this leadership and fitness school when there was no WAY I could do any of it. I could barely even walk up the mountain to the morning devotion site.

Every morning, we walk up a big hill. Seriously, it's big. Without fail, every morning, one of the kids from the flatlands of Florida will yell something out like "GIVE THE FLORIDA KIDS A BREAK!" It's a steep walk. Last year, I would walk all the way up, praying for a chance to pause in between so I could catch my breath, and be so winded on the way that I couldn't have a conversation. I would make it there, barely, and I would be sweating buckets in 75 degree mountain air.

And every day, there are classes. Workout classes. I would hide out as much as possible and avoid all of these classes because, after all, I can't do this. I realize how crude it sounds, and I am not making fun of myself at all, but making the point that I - for all practical purposes - was the biggest person here. And it was embarrassing. How could I ask my kids to do things that I couldn't do myself? What kind of a leader was that?



A picture I took with Blair yesterday.



What a difference a year makes.

This year, I walk up to the devotion site every morning and I can carry on a conversation all the way up. In fact, I am noticing other people around me that are more winded than I am. I can get down on the floor next to my kids and do sit-ups right beside them. I can hold a plank for a minute. I can do a perfect crunch. I am even walking all the way down the mountain every day and doing my own workout in my free time just because I can.

If it sounds like I am bragging, I am. I am so proud. I am so thankful that God has given me a second chance at this life. One of the instructors said this to me the other day: "One day, your body will not be able to do this. Today is not that day." I am so inspired by that, and when I am in the middle of a hundred squats, I think about that and thank God for the body I have. The strength, the movement, the miracle of God's creation.


I know a lot of people read this blog that don't know me. And maybe you are facing something that feels impossible to conquer. To be completely honest with you, I NEVER thought I would be the person to love exercise, find fitness important, and admit that I needed a change in my life. It is my hope that by making this private struggle so public that you might have the courage to face your fears, too.

Once we stop running, stare those fears in the face, and invite someone into it with us, it turns out that those fears aren't so powerful after all.

-Liz

I have something to tell you, but I don't want to end up in your blog.

A few weeks ago I was having a rough day. One of those down in the dumps, walking the valleys, tired of choosing to be healthy days. A day that might seem to only be fixed by Ben and Jerry.

My friend Whitney came into the Y and said "I have something to tell you, but I don't want to end up in your blog."

Oh, Whitney...you know I can't promise you that.

She said she had a dream that she was in an auditorium. The seats were packed. The woman speaking on stage was someone she didn't recognize, but when she began speaking, she realized that the woman had my voice. That woman was me, but she was so...thin.

Whitney said that the woman turned sideways and she was so thin, that she - that I - was unrecognizable as the old me. Whitney figured out that the people in the auditorium were my blog readers. That all those people had come to see me talk about my weight loss journey.

So how could I quit now? Ben and Jerry can't compare to the far reaching arms that I have been able to have in sharing my struggles. I've gotten so many emails lately at JUST the right time. I've gotten words of encouragement right when I needed them most, when I was one step away from eating too much, or believing lies, or losing interest in working out. Right then, God chooses to drop me a life line so I don't drown.

If today is one of those days that you feel like drowning and you think that  those Cafe Carolina blue cupcakes are the only thing that will heal the pain, please think again. Those cupcakes are actually the things weighing us down.

Yes. Pun intended.

-Liz

Can you see Jesus in the clouds?

My friend Dee and I have a saying - "kingdom clouds." Kingdom clouds are the white, fluffy clouds that you see in beautiful blue skies. Clouds that look so fluffy, you can only imagine the kingdom of God inside of them. Thick, white clouds that belong to God and just might have God right inside of them.

When we see kingdom clouds, it is the reminder of God on this earth, making something beautiful just for us.

On Sunday morning, I went for a run. I have one of those Nike GPS apps on my iPhone that will tell me pace every 5 minutes. Sometimes I love that lady's voice when she interrupts my playlist to tell me how fast I am going. Sometimes, I hate that lady's voice when she interrupts my playlist to tell me how SLOW I am going. On Sunday, I hated her voice.

But my run was great, and I was on the way back running down Two Creeks Road. I was running down the right side of the street, and another lady was running down the left side of the street. We were both going the same direction, so I saw her out of the corner of my eye as she passed me across the street. When I saw her I thought "ugh, come on...this lady is going so much faster than me. I am so slow."

My internal dialogue continued: "this is so frustrating! Why can't I be as fast as her?" I beat myself like this for a few more moments and then, a shift happened. "What am I doing? Quit being so hard on yourself and realize that you have just run 3 1/2 miles and you feel great! Your legs are strong, your heart is pumping, and your mind is getting sharper and sharper. You are doing awesome, stop beating yourself up!"

I am not kidding you...as soon as I realized that thought and decided to stop beating myself up, this woman, across the street and ahead of me, turned around mid-stride and gave me a thumbs up.

Did she know what I was thinking at that exact moment? No. But God did. Did she know I needed some encouragement? Maybe. But God definitely did. I saw Jesus in that lady jogger just like I see Him in those kingdom clouds. You see the same joggers and the same clouds that I do...but do you see Jesus in them like I do?

Do you see Jesus in the people and places around you? Do you know how badly God is trying to get your attention? This is a beautiful life, and when I stop beating myself up and look for Jesus, I get it. I really, really get it.

But, we have to stop beating ourselves up first.

-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

Fat Girl in a Thin Girl's Body

I have had some unbelievable conversations with people this week. My head is all over the place. But the common thread of all of these God-focused, wondering questions is this:

Will I think like a fat girl even when I approach my goal weight?

I know. Saying that is socially unacceptable. It's not politically correct. I'm not meaning to be disrespectful, and I kind of think I can use this terminology because I have carried the fat girl flag my whole life. But just roll with me here.

In my life, as a fat girl, I have fought these perceptions and thoughts. I have thought this about myself, and I have heard people say this to me

• I got this way because I don't care about myself.
• I have to be funny to be liked.
• No one can understand how I feel, so I shouldn't bother.
• My problem is worse than anyone else's problem.
• I am lazy.
• I can't change.
• I will never be loved.
• I will always be alone.
• I'm gross.

Yikes. That's a hard list to admit to. But here's the thing: when (not if), when I lose 100 pounds, I can still have ALL of these same  problems. I can still believe I will never be loved, I can still put myself in this self-imposed loneliness where no one can come in. I can be a fat girl in a thin girl's body.

See, we can fix the outside all we want. We can quit that, we can start this, we can lose weight, we can buy that, we can learn whatever. But the inside, the heart...is still the same. Someone that I love and respect, who I consider to be naturally-thin, said to me this week "It really hurts me that you won't let me into this with you. I know that you feel like I could never understand, but that's just not fair." And she was SO RIGHT.

I am not at my goal yet. That doesn't really matter. I am not a "thin girl" yet. And even that doesn't matter. Let me tell you how I feel now:

• I care too much about myself to stay this way. So does Jesus.
• I don't have to be funny to be liked. I am dearly loved by Jesus. (being the funniest person I know is just a side effect of my bad-assness)
• People want to know me. More importantly, Jesus knows my every struggle and darkest places of my heart and loves me more than ever.
• My problem is a challenge, and an opportunity to see Jesus in the midst of pain.
• I am not lazy. I am choosing victory, one day at a time so I don't get overwhelmed.
• I can change. And I have. And I will continue to.
• I am already loved. I was loved before I was even born by the Creator, by my Dad.
• I am never alone. And I will never be alone.
• I'm gross. (only when I burp, and that's just some people's opinions)

You see the depths of my heart and you love me the same. You are amazing, God.

-Liz

You can't do it alone. You'll try, but you'll fail.

Today's a big day. Today I went down a t-shirt size in my "official" Y tees.

Now, this might not be a big deal to you, but consider this: I have worn a 2XL t-shirt since high school. Yes, HIGH SCHOOL. For most of my shirts, I even had to do that trick where you stretch em out, you pull em out, you make sure they are baggy around the stomach area, all of that, so that people might not notice that you wear a 2XL. I know some of you are nodding your heads in agreement. Preach on, sister.

But right now as a I type this, I am wearing an XL. I can't believe it. And even more than the scale, this seems like a huge victory. Not only that, it's an XL that I didn't have to stretch out, pull out, and manipulate to hide my bulging stomach.

This morning I was taking a group fitness class. Kickboxing. And as we were doing the 13,000th jumping jack, I looked around and had a pretty amazing reflection time on my journey so far. If I could give anyone a piece of advice, it is this: You can't do it alone. You'll try, but you'll fail.

See, I have tried this weight loss thing for 15 years. Alone. And I even lost weight with a friend a few years ago, but when that friendship hit some very rocky ground, you can guess what I turned to. Food has been my constant companion my whole life. So, I have learned that, when I am alone, I will fail. Most of us try to do big changes alone because we are tough. We are embarrassed. We don't want people to know what's really going on. News flash - people WANT TO KNOW YOU. And chances are, you're not being as secretive as you think you are. People know you need help. And you can't do it alone.

If you're really trying to lose weight, heck, if you're really trying to make any change at all, you need to surround yourself with accountability. And here is my top ten practical list, which might give you a place to start:

1. I have a trainer who weighs me in every week. She sees my weight. YES, that was the scariest thing in the world a few months ago. Lots of tears. But LOTS of hugs, and lots of accountability.
2. I have a few work out friends. We do group fitness, or we run together, or at the very least, check in with each other every week.
3. I use myfitnesspal.com and track my calories and exercise. Free app for your phone. It's the bomb.
4. I meet with two women every week over coffee and donuts (just kidding about the donuts). We are all in the weight loss journey, and we talk about struggles and victories and the book "Made to Crave".
5. I host a Made To Crave bible study at my house on Thursday nights.
6. I keep a food journal with my best friend. She is naturally thin, but she loves me and wants to be in this with me, and it really, really helps. When you let someone know your struggle like that, it takes friendship to this level you would not believe.
7. I write this blog. Which, believe it or not, keeps me CRAZY accountable. I can't just quit and continue to share in this journey that would be an epic failure, now could I?
8. I gave away all of big clothes. No safety net.
9. I don't go thru drive-thrus. Ever. I know my limits. The danger of them asking "Is that all?" - that question is always answered with, "Well, what about another cheeseburger, sure!"
10. I commit myself to Jesus every single day. Every day. Letting go of this stronghold in my life has been quite a struggle, but God knows me better than I know myself. And He wants in. Write about it, pray about it, read about it, just be alone with God.

Maybe one of those will help you get started. Let's face it, we all need to get started on the path to something. And taking a friend with you assures you can get there.

-Liz

Thanks for the memories, Facebook

A funny thing happened to me on Facebook this week.

My favorite place on earth is Lake Champion, a Young Life camp in Glen Spey, New York. I met Jesus there in high school, have worked there for several summers, and have seen some of the best high schoolers I know learn about Jesus there. I have unbelievable memories of that place starting in 1993 (yes, I am that old, and am now realizing that some of you weren't even born yet).

So, Lake Champion has been posting old pictures from camping on their Facebook page. One of my friends tagged me in this gem right here. It's from 1993, I was 17, and there for five weeks volunteering one summer. The same day I was tagged in the photo, one of my friends from work posted this: 


"Wow! Look at you there! You look amazing in just a couple of short months....keep up the good work!"


I can only assume...she thought this was a picture of me that was taken a few months ago, pre-weight loss journey. Two GREAT things about this mistake: 1. I am thinner now than I was in high school and 2. I am aging REALLY well. I mean, REALLY well.

It did put me in a wonderful place of reflection. This morning I took a few hours to hike in Umstead Park, to listen to God, and to reflect on where I have come from. It's amazing. I found this picture, taken a few years ago, and I barely know that girl anymore.


We have to remember to reflect in the midst of these adventures we are on. Otherwise, we'll forget what God has done. Have you ever been sick, and you think "If only I felt better...God, this is the worst." But then you get better, and you forget how great it is to feel good? We do that to God, too. We forget His blessings, we forget His mercy, we forget His love.


Take a day to just be with God. Remove yourself from the busyness of life and reflect. You'll remember where you've come from, and you'll be reinvigorated to move ahead!


-Liz

Doing some professional reflecting in Jamaica last week.

When friends just don't understand

Just got back from our weeklong missions trip to Jamaica, that's why I have been silent. But trust me, my mind has been racing with thoughts of God, life, process, weight, forgiveness, friendship, accountability, expectations, perfection, and reality.

Are you as exhausted as I am reading that list?

Today, I weighed in with my trainer and, to date, I have lost 61 pounds! DANG! I am so excited, especially since I ate everything in sight while we were in Jamaica. But it certainly got me thinking about food and my social life. I thought I would share some well-intentioned words I've had from friends recently:

1. Have this brownie, you have been working so hard! You deserve it!
2. Don't let this weight thing affect your social life.
3. I think you're taking yourself too seriously.
4. You're going to be so pretty!
5. Hey trust me, I'm trying to lose a few pounds myself, but I don't let it affect my time with friends.
6. Just substitute chips with some delicious carrots! They have the same crunch and satisfy your desire to snack! (this one is my favorite...)

Let me repeat, these are words from my well-intentioned friends. Friends that love me and want to encourage me. They are not trying to beat me up, tear me down, stop my progress, or hurt my feelings.

It is, however, a reminder, that my naturally thin friends just don't understand. And I cannot fault them for that. How could a sober person understand an addict? How can I make them see that food can be an addiction just like anything else? So...I smile, and thank them, and go on my merry way, but inside, it does feel lonely. It feels unfair, it feels isolating.

But today I am living in this 61 pound victory. Today I am celebrating being able to fly on an airplane with the armrest down and the seatbelt having extra room. That is a victory that some of you can relate to, but some cannot. To be comfortable in a world that has always felt too small for me is the most amazing thing I have ever experienced. I can't wait to see what's next.

-Liz

"You're such an inspiration!"

So, I was sitting at my desk today, frustrated with my progress. I haven't been losing 3 pounds a week like I would hope to. I have been craving foods that are bad for me. I have hit a wall with my workouts.

I am just...bored. And in this desert where no one really understands what I am going through.

Anyone that knows me knows that I am my worst critic. There is no one that I am more critical about than myself. I compete with myself, I push myself too hard, and the biggest one is that I don't give myself a break. Naturally, I haven't been giving my body a break. The weeks of processed Luna Bars have been catching up to me and progress has slowed down.

So, I am changing something. But not the something you might think I would be changing. I am changing what the word "progress" means.

Are you slowing down? Losing interest? The honeymoon is over and the work is ahead? Here is progress: me sitting at my desk, being so hard on myself that I have become an emotional wreck, and a high schooler walking in and telling me she has lost 4 pounds because I have been such an inspiration to her.

Here is progress: someone asking me to speak at her Made To Crave bible study as a testimonial to how God can redeem the brokenness of our food addiction.

Here is progress: I have had one of the worst weeks I have had in a LONG time and I did not turn to food. (You should read that one again, because this is a bigger deal than you think it is.)

If you are as hard on yourself as I am on myself, and if you are hitting an emotional wall like I am, may I suggest changing your definition of the word "progress"? Our biggest victories might not be on the scale. They might just be the ones in our hearts, the ones that have beaten us up our whole lives.

We all need to make a collective promise to ourselves that we will stop the bombing when it comes to our own hearts. Give yourself a break, take a step back, and realize that you might be the most important person that you need to encourage today. Offer that to yourself, and watch how quickly you make progress!

-Liz

When being "set apart" feels like crap.

I don't know about you, but I like being a counselor to others. The sounding board for problems. The listener and shoulder to cry on. I like encouraging people, helping them in times of need, and offering hope and prayer when friends are upset and despondent.

I do NOT, however, like to be on the receiving end of all those things above. I don't like this new phase of life that God has put me in. In a word, I am - vulnerable. And as much as I have been fighting this new position, I can't help it. I am finally facing the one thing in my life that I have been pretending wasn't an issue. The elephant in the room. (No fat jokes! But...good one.)

Whenever someone comes to me and says "Living for God is just too hard. I have to give up this or that and I can't hang out with who I used to, I can't live that life and it's too hard. It's just not fair" my response has always been "We are set apart! As Christians, we are set apart and what feels like unfairness is actually God protecting us from pain!"

Yes, I fully believe that God's "rules" for life, are not actually rules to hold us down and bum us out, but protections from us getting hurt and carrying emotional scars and baggage that will forever weigh us down.

But if you're asking me to believe that too, well that just hits too close to home. And this week, it has hit so close to home that I have had to make some tough realizations. Yes, I am the toughest person I know, and yes, I have kept the world at a distance, and yes the extra weight I have carried around served its purpose to keep people away from knowing me fully.

Now that I know that, what will I do with it? I'm making a decision to not sit in this sin anymore but to find scripture to fight off the lies that I have believed my whole life. Maybe this will help you, too:

"Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." - Romans 12:2 

Does that hit you like it hits me? I have conformed to the patterns of this world my whole life. The world says: Don't let anyone too close. Develop armor. Find a way to always have the upper hand. Look out for yourself first.

But what does Jesus say? "Greater love has no man than this: that he would lay his life down for his friends."

If I allow God to renew my mind, I will be transformed. Then and only then will I be able to see what God's will is for my life - his good, pleasing, and perfect will.

Maybe it's time for all of us to actually believe in ourselves as much as we believe in others, and to listen to the advice we give and let God apply it to our own hearts. I don't know...maybe.

-Liz

...and the victory flag flies high over the golden arches.

Every week, I meet with my friends Pam and Barb to talk about our weight loss trials and tribulations, victories and triumphs. This past week, Pam was talking about how she has no desire to have a "pig out" day anymore. I told her that I'm just not there yet - that I still can't go into a McDonald's without eating like the old days.

And what, you may ask, did my old days at McDonald's look like? Well, here is an embarrassing admission:

Usually, it was the 2 cheeseburger meal, supersized, with a diet coke. Yes, a diet coke. I didn't want to go overboard, now. Oh and occasionally, add an apple pie. And they used to be 2 for $1, so didn't I want 2, they would ask? Sure, why not? And once, I think I even added chicken nuggets. Alright, take it easy. Quit judging me. It was probably a rough night. Or I was bored. Or, any number of stupid reasons that I would take that all home with me. The calorie total of all that goodness was...

610 for the fries, 300 for each cheeseburger, 280 for the chicken nuggets, and 250 for each apple pie bringing that total to...

1,990 calories. For one meal. To put that into perspective, I now consume less than 1,500 calories a day.

(Another fun one to calculate...I used to be more than willing to eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's in one sitting. A pint of their chocolate chip cookie dough is 920 calories. And that's one of the lower calorie flavors!)


My point is this: I never, ever thought I would be able to go into a McDonald's again without eating like I used to. In fact, when I first started this weight loss journey in September, I would avoid certain routes home so my car wouldn't magically drift into the drive through. But today, today something amazing happened.

I went to Hickory to meet my friend Sam for the day and I really, really wanted coffee. I couldn't find a convenient Starbucks, but I did pass a McDonald's. I went in hungry. I came out with a sugar free vanilla latte in my hand. And you know what? I didn't feel deprived. I didn't feel left out. I didn't feel lonely, I felt EMPOWERED. I felt God's hand on me, and I felt empowered.

Today was a big day. Today was a victory, and today I am grateful to God for how He is carrying me and you through our greatest struggles and into victory.

We should all care enough about ourselves to pay attention to what we put in our mouths. And we should all care enough about our feelings and emotions to stop stuffing them down with food. And you should invite me out for coffee...and we can even go to McDonalds. Turns out, their coffee is awesome.

-Liz