Kathy H.

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If you were to peek inside my closet right now, you might get the sense that someone has recently packed up everything and left. For every hangar with something on it there are six that hang empty. My drawers are cavernous. When did I ever need so many clothes that my closet and my dresser drawers were overstuffed beyond capacity?

Yes, the clothes were larger than they are now, but not that much larger.

I’ve become a ruthless reducer. Anything that doesn’t fit, or that fits but doesn’t make me smile when I see it on me gets tossed unceremoniously into a pile in the corner of the room. Every two weeks or so I stuff my discarded history into a contractor bag and trek to Goodwill where I’m now on a first-name basis with the young man at receiving.

The clothes I have purchased have either been Goodwill finds (where else can you unearth a Chico jacket for $7?), or exceptional sale items taken from the “Last Chance!” rack just before the season changes. I’ve exchanged sensible unisex shoes for pant-boot heels that are a full size smaller than the ones I’ve hauled away.

It feels good to become lighter, both figuratively and literally. If I were to try to pick up two 50-pound bags of rice at the grocery store, I wouldn’t be able to do it. I’m curious what it would feel like to have them balanced on my shoulders … to take a stroll around the store like that, 100 pounds heavier.  Just nine months ago, that’s what I was walking through my day with … every day.

The empty closet makes me feel powerful. The heels make me feel powerful. In fact, walking makes me feel powerful. The simple act of moving… makes me feel powerful.

Change does that to you, doesn't it? Once you get past the fear, I mean. I'm going to do my best to remember that.

And, uhmmmmm.. oh, yeah. Tonight a man told me I had a great ass. :)

It seems I've finally broken a month-long stall. I didn't post about it, because I knew it was only a matter of time before I started losing again.... I follow the rules pretty closely, so the stressing was minimal.

But this morning, I find that the scale has finally returned from its European vacation, and has decided to once again pay homage to how wonderful I am, and how much more wonderful I'm becoming.

YAY!

The WOW is sort of an obscure one, and takes a little bit of backstory. I spent my honeymoon (25 years ago) on the Hawaiian island of Kauai. I chose the hotel specifically because it had a private plunge pool for each room, and I wanted to avoid the humiliation of being seen by others in a bathing suit.

During the trip, my new husband decided to surprise me with a helicopter ride over the island. It was a wonderful gesture, except that he didn't realize how horrifying the thought was to me. Not because the pilot swooped and weaved his way over some pretty treacherous-looking terrain, but because I knew that helicopters need to be very carefully balanced, and I knew that any helicopter tour was going to require every passenger to step onto a scale to be weighed.

I was over their limit, and we had to buy another half-seat. Talk about a walk of shame ... all eyes were on us as we walked from the scale area back to the counter to buck up for the additional fare.

Yesterday at work, there was a representative from the Hawaiian tourism board telling us about all the wonderful tours available on the islands. When he got to the helicopter option, my stomach knotted at the 25-year-old memory. "Please be aware that you WILL BE WEIGHED before the flight. Anyone over 250 pounds will be required to buy an extra half-fare."

~blink~

I'm almost 30 pounds UNDER their "too fat to fly" limit!!!

Whooo hoooo!

If you've stuck with me this long, you deserve a lovely butter-soaked shrimp... yum yum yum. Please push onward to my challenge.

My challenge. ~sigh dramatique~ I am craving fruit. Grapes, cantaloupe, fresh pineapple, pears, apples....you name it, I lust after it's succulent, sweet flesh. This has never been a problem of mine in the past, most especially when it wouldn't have been considered a problem!... if you can follow that

Carb-loaded fruit inhabits my dreams. I open the fridge to grab something to eat and there are these fat, cold, sweet grapes staring back at me... winking at me like a translucent green siren. Yesterday I found myself in Costco with my head *reeling* amid the bounty of Japanese Pears and mangoes. I felt like a junkie.

Since surgery, I've experienced no longer liking stuff I used to like, but this is a deep craving for something that has never really appealed to me - and it's NOT protein... and it IS carb-heavy.

~weeps openly~

On the flip side of that, I also crave protein. I love parking myself in front of the butcher counter and making all the people behind me wait as I say... "yes, two pounds of bacon. And then a pound of the large shrimp, three of those big, fat pork chops... and a full chicken breast ... ooooohhhh... that crab looks good! Let's go for a pound of that and top it off with that beautiful piece of Cod... the one right in front. Yesssssssssss, that's the one. Thank you."

and then wandering off to the cheese case.

I.

Love.

My.

DS.

A couple things have happened recently that I wanted to write about.

First, an update. I've lost a total of 87 pounds since I began my two-week pre-surgery diet in the middle of April. I feel fantastic, and so far I haven't felt deprived or miserable (okay, recovery was a bitch, but I mean after that). I've encountered a few foods that I wish I could eat, but I just can't (dinner rolls, pasta, flour tortillas, crackers, baked potatoes... you seeing a pattern!?), but other than that, this is a kick-ass way to eat.

So, for the "things".....

First of all, I took my son on a last-minute school shopping spree the other day. I stood up from a squatting position and found myself REALLY light-headed. No huge deal, I just gave myself a moment with my hand on the table to stablize myself, and I was fine. Except that I was left with a wicked headache, which concerned me. I had been on high blood pressure meds in the hospital, and I had stopped taking them about two months ago, assuming (unwisely) that my blood pressure would have returned to its enviable pre-operative levels.

So, it gave me pause for thought. On the way home, I swung into the fire station that's a few blocks from my house, and the VERY handsome young fire fighter took my blood pressure. Then he took it again, saying, "I don't think that was an accurate reading." After the second reading, he laughed and said, "no, it was right. You're 114/78 ... your blood pressure is better than mine!"

I loved that. But I know that high blood pressure is the silent killer, and as I said the station is only a few blocks from home. So it's only prudent that I have the handsome young fire fighters take my readings again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Just to be sure, you understand....

Then, the second thing.

I was leaving work, walking along the sidewalk to my car, when I caught sight of someone's reflection in the glass of the building I was walking beside. It took me off guard, because the reflection was just about the same place I would have expected to see *my* reflection.

For a half a second, a jolt of fear coursed through me, because I thought someone might be coming up behind me. I work in a very safe area, but when someone invades your personal space like that, you get a little jumpy, you know? Of course, you've probably already figured out that it WAS my reflection, and I simply didn't recognize myself. I've heard about other people experiencing this, but it was my first ... "geez, that's ME!" moment. My outline has changed so much. I love it, but I admit it's unsettling at times.

I'm spending my time writing about how I feel as I'm going through this. Nothing I want to share, at this point, but the words are flowing. My friend Sandie says I'm carrying myself in a completely different way... exuding confidence and strength. I feel it, too. It's pretty incredible.

In fact, feels like I'm on some weird, surreal exploration of myself, right now. Like I'm creating myself from scratch, and it's difficult to get a grip on which direction I want to move. It's not a bad thing... it's *growth* .... it's just not always comfortable.