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!

Practicing Being Brave Part II

Damn right!

I revisited my blog today. My last post was in March of 2017 when Georgie went to puppy boot camp. It was entitled "Practicing Being Brave."

So this is part 2.

I am resurrecting the blog. And I am resurrecting my weight loss journey too. In a super charged way, I hope. I have decided to have bariatric surgery, more specifically, a surgery called "duodenal switch." I have been working on this with my doctor for over a year. My surgery date is July 11th.

I have friends that have had this surgery and have been very private about it, only telling their family. I didn't understand the need to keep it private, but I do now.

I am a "shout it from the mountain top" kind of person. I try to be as open as I can, hoping that it makes others feel comfortable. I have several friends that used the same bariatric program I am using. As I shared the process with my close friends and family, I have gotten all the support in the world. For the most part...

However, this process is raw and brings up emotions and feelings that have been long buried under overeating. So the criticism with the process hurt that much worse. I had a friend refer to it as "elective surgery" and that just sent me into a dark place.

Was it my poor eating choices alone that got me to this point? No, but it certainly contributed. And if I could lose the weight and keep it off on my own, I would have. I got to this weight on my own, but I can't get to my goal weight on my own. I have tried and failed many times. I am choosing medical intervention as a tool to help me reach my goals and be healthy now so I don't become even unhealthier later. This is not a nose job, it's been a process for over a year. This will change the way I eat the rest of my life. I will be on a strict vitamin regimen forever. This is not going to be easy. That's how I know it's going to work.

For those of us who struggle with our weight, let me remind you: naturally thin people do not get it. But it's not their fault. They will say things that feel wildly disrespectful and hurtful. We still need to let them love us and care about our struggles. And for those of you that don't struggle with your weight, let me remind you: go easy. Choose to be kind and choose your words carefully, because your words matter. That's a good life lesson for all of us.

So, I will keep practicing being brave. And I am excited about what's next.

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.

Nobody blogs from the valley

A few years ago, I lost 80 pounds. Rather publicly because I shared the journey and had a ton of accountability and it was amazing. A time worth blogging about.

Since then, sidelined by two back surgeries and a general loss of willpower and interest, I have gained back most of the wait. Rather quietly because I didn't share that journey and it was terrible. A time that no one blogs about because nobody blogs from the valley.

But guys great news! I have stopped the slide into complacency and I made a choice exactly seven days ago to focus on my health again. Walking out of the valley isn't going to be easy but I am no longer willing to stay there.

What happened seven days ago that clicked? Several things collided but one thing in particular is worth sharing. My friend reminded me of a show called "My 600lb Life." If you haven't seen it, it's on TLC and it shares a year in the life of someone who is trying to get their life back with weight loss surgery.

This show is extreme. People who let themselves reach that weight have lived extreme circumstances and cope with food in extreme ways. But I saw myself in those weight loss surgery patients. None of them ever thought they would weigh 600 pounds. They never stopped the slide into complacency.

The other great thing about the show is that it dives deep into the emotional and psychological reasons that we use food as a coping mechanism. Food has always been my drug of choice and I saw myself in all the conversations patients were having on this show.

Sharing the struggle is part of what will make me successful. The struggle is also the reason most of us stay quiet. I have really debated whether or not to start blogging again. There certainly is some embarrassment that I am not where I was. But if you know me, you know that I LOVE to embarrass my friends in public so it's time to let that embarrassment go and choose to be honest.

And if I can be ok with public embarrassment, maybe my friends will follow?

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

Hello, my name is...

Had a crazy privilege to speak to some YMCA professionals last week at a youth conference in the mountains. It was crazy because the other speakers were authors, corporate consultants, and Y-USA policy makers.

And me.

So, that was crazy.

I am completely unqualified for most things. My credentials are few and far between. I guess the one thing I can speak on is people. And emotions. And being an emotional person. Turns out, those are topics that are welcomed by most, even though at first glance, we all try to avoid them.

My friends keep asking me what I spoke about. And I always feel like I need to answer with some grand concept that I have come up with. But my answer is "I don't know, I just talked about people and labels and being ok with being who you are."

Simple concept, but a daily struggle.

Have you ever been labeled in your life? By a mistake, by a number on a scale, by a break-up, by a regret? I have. Did you let that label define you? I have. Does it still define you?

For me, being 39 and single is very hard. And I am reminded of it every time I go on social media. It's filled with posts about marriage and kids and pregnancy. My posts are about motorcycles and pinball machines and video games.

39 and single doesn't have a demographic. Especially in Christian circles. In that world, it is kind of...sad. If you are 39 and single as a Christian woman you are...alone. So therefore I am...lonely.

Lonely.

And I have let that label define me. For way too many years. And I always think people can't relate. No one can feel the way I do.

And I have believed that lie. For way too many years.

This past week, speaking to that group of YMCA leaders, was therapeutic. A nice reminder that my crazy thoughts are someone else's crazy thoughts. Getting older is pretty awesome. With each year I am able to be more and more ok with who I am, and recognizing the lies that try to label me.

And if you need some help with a new label, here are some beautiful options for you. Every single one is true.

Boring is beautiful!

Difficult in a car. Imagine
on a motorcycle...

 I am back from my motorcycle adventure in the mountains. Let me say this...I was not prepared.

If you want to know why, take a look at this google map screenshots. See, mountain roads are not just widely varied in elevation, they are also the twistiest, turniest roads I have ever been on. Mind you, I am used to traveling country roads in Wake Forest and beyond. We're talking generally flat, the occasional turn, and no traffic.

So drop this noob into a city within the mountains, and it's a recipe for certain disaster.

Hot tip: when you ask google to map a route and choose "avoid highways", google likes to replace said highways with gravel roads. On a motorcycle, it's the absolute worst.

So on day one, I was forcibly traveling a gravel road and came to the end of it. Stopped. And remember how I was in the mountains, the turn to hit next was a hairpin and I dropped the bike. Right into the only mud puddle I saw in Asheville. Day one shook my confidence.

Day one. Why I didn't recognize this as foreshadowing
is beyond me.

Aside from my terrifying moto-adventures, the trip was so good for me. Seeing my friend Sam who is ridiculous and wonderful, experiencing Air BnB in a Dexter Morgan shade of bizarre (for more on that, click here), were all perfect moments in my ridiculous life.

At least I got a glamour shot for Honda Powersports.

I hyped this trip up to be a time where I would discover a deeper sense of who I am. That being away would make me realize something I had never seen before. It worked, but not in the way I was intending. I figured out that I suppress who I am too often. I pretend to be a person that craves adventure and spontaneity.

Day three. Or the "What the hell am I doing up here" face.

You know what I really love? Comfort. And air conditioning. And Bravo TV. And my Vitamix. And my motorcycle. But maybe just my motorcycle on hills not mountains. I wish I had been okay with all these things when I was younger. I wish I didn't pretend to love roller coasters and camping and fiction and sleeping on the floor and staying up all night because I thought I was supposed to.

This trip taught me that learning my limits is a great thing. And that comfort isn't a sin. You hear me Christians? Comfort is not a sin. I am boring! Boring is beautiful! Oh and one more thing for my Christian friends...it's ok to laugh. A lot. More on that some other day...

-Liz