Archives for category: weight loss secrets

I’m sipping my coffee and noticing that the sun is shining – in my eyes. I could complain about that, but it seems easier and more effective to adjust the location of my chair so that the sun isn’t in my eyes. lol There’s something to learn there; human beings complain about a lot of shit they could just very easily change. Just saying.

Yesterday was a strange one. Highs and lows. Mixed feelings. Shared experience. My Traveling Partner and I spent the day together, and this included a hour-long drive to another town for an appointment. It was a lovely drive in the country and I wish I could have enjoyed it more fully – it was a gorgeous day for it and I greatly enjoy my Traveling Partner’s good company. He’s injured, still recovering, and quite uncomfortable as a result. I had a vicious headache and my arthritis was giving me grief. We were both sort of cross, and it definitely colored the day a bit, though mostly we had a great time together. The drive itself was quite delightful, characterized by the splendid day itself, and the beautiful countryside scenery. It was, generally speaking, a very good day. By the end of the day, we were both pretty crabby and easily irritated in spite of our best intentions. I went to bed early hoping to wake without this fucking headache…

…My headache isn’t so bad this morning, but my neck aches, my back aches, and the sun shining in my eyes threatened to bring my headache back, but so far, I guess things are “fine”…

How is it already almost May?? Where did the time go? It’s managed to be a busy and eventful sort of year, too…

I sip my coffee and think about my health… diet and exercise… plans, practices, and commitments to change… so many verbs, so much work and effort and focus… So far I have been comfortably able to stay on top of the various details I’m committing myself to, on this particular health journey. I know my results will vary; this is a very human thing. I’m almost eager, but half dreading, the upcoming Sunday (next shot, weigh-in, review progress-to-date)… how long does it take to see results from changes? Depends on the changes, I suppose. Depends on the results I’m looking for, too, probably. I won’t see changes to things like my A1c until my next bloodwork. I could see changes in weight pretty quickly, and have already been feeling changes in the subtleties of subjective experience (things like the way my clothes fit, and some differences in perspective regarding food and consumption).

…Some of our most important journeys are filled with small changes as we progress, and it’s easy to overlook those – but there’s profound value in recognizing and celebrating them (or making corrections if they are setbacks). So, I sip my coffee and think over the “here and now” and the differences between this moment and a similarly timed moment some weeks ago. Compare, contrast, observe, & acknowledge. Breathe. Acceptance and non-attachment are pretty useful practices on a journey of change. I keep practicing.

…Acceptance and non-attachment… Those served me pretty well yesterday, too. These are practices that allow me to accept my Traveling Partner as he is, as a human being, friend, and lover, without becoming “fused” with his emotional experience. He’s his own person. Non-attachment allows me to love him deeply without taking his perspective personally or allowing it to undermine my self-esteem in moments of discord. Useful. Still requires practice. There are verbs involved. My results vary – but damn, I am in a better place with myself (and my partner) than I was a few years ago!! I suppose if I count the years it could seem like it’s been “a long time”, but the journey is the destination, and all of these years are filled with days of love and loving and growth and fondly building a life together. It’s hard to complain about that. Like having the sun shining in my eyes, the discomfort is largely a matter of perspective. I can shift my thinking to change my perspective and gain a better (and more useful, loving) perspective.

…I smile and sip my coffee. It’s a good morning. A lovely day. It’s already time to begin again…

Chilly morning. It’s near freezing this morning. The local trail I chose for my walk is slick with frost in places, and the air is crisp and quiet. The sunrise is gold and orange, with hints of deeper shades of red.  I’ve taken today off and for now my time is my own.

The colors of a new day.

I walk and think, until my steps bring me back to the car. I’m in quite a lot of pain this morning, which is annoying, but I’m managing in spite of it, so far. The sudden cold snap causes my arthritis to flare up. Nothing much to do about that besides complain and take something for it. It could be worse, and I am grateful that it isn’t.

…Funny how the many pretty little flowers that adorn the meadows and the ground beneath the oaks along this trail would be weeds in my garden…

I sigh quietly to myself. This headache is vexing me. I’m hoping it will diminish once the pain medication I took for my arthritis kicks in. I’d mutter something to myself about how much aging sucks, but I’ve had the osteoarthritis since I was about 25, and this particular headache for going on a decade. I remind myself, again, that it could for sure be so much worse. I take a breath and let my vexatious notions go as I exhale and relax. New day, new moment, new chance to begin again, eh?

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer, reflecting on my good fortune to have a partner who cares about my wellness and is supportive and kind, and careful with my feelings. He’s been very open to supporting my decision-making and goal-setting as I start new medication and reflect on changes I need to make to my diet and fitness plan. He knows it isn’t easy and doesn’t cast me as a villain, blame me, or nag or criticize me. He listens and offers suggestions when I ask for help or for his insights. So different than what either of us saw modeled by our parents. It’s a relief and I am appreciative and grateful.

…Changes do need to be made, though. There are no shortcuts or magic pills. I have to do my part. “Eat less and exercise ” is trite and basic, and probably a bit oversimplified, but… it’s trite and basic because it’s pretty foundational and reliably true, generally. It’s just how the biochemistry of our metabolism works. So, I am back to logging meals for a while, while I recalibrate my awareness of my calorie consumption and improve on the nutritional quality of what I eat. I’m back to weekly weigh-ins, holding myself accountable and staying aware of progress and setbacks. I’m back to pushing myself a little harder every week on the trail and at home to do a little more, go a little further and sit still a little less. It’s a journey. Like so many of life’s journeys, I have to walk my own mile, and I am my own cartographer. No shortcuts.

…If you’re thinking that Ozempic and other medications that may aid weight-loss for some people are somehow “shortcuts”, at all,  I gently suggest reconsidering that as a thinking error. How is medication for a medical condition any sort of “shortcut”? (And if you’re only taking or considering one of these new drugs so you can drop a couple pounds to soothe your vanity, maybe think about how that may reduce the availability of these drugs for people who actually need them.?)

Meh. Do you. I’m not your mom nor your babysitter. Maybe just don’t be an asshole to people who have challenges you don’t personally share?

The sun is up. It’s shining in my eyes, golden and bright. It’s a new day, a new moment, and there’s so much further to go. I guess it’s time to begin again.

This morning I woke feeling kind of down. I had replaced the batteries in the bathroom scale last night, and did an honest weigh-in to get a clear understanding of the journey ahead. That number was bigger than I expected it to be. Bigger than I thought it was. Bigger than my most comfortable self-deception suggested it would be. I woke up feeling a bit depressed about it.

I drove into the office thinking about my weight. The journey ahead. My desire to live a long healthy life enjoying the companionship of my Traveling Partner for many years to come. The clock is ticking. The challenges with my health, my weight, my fitness, and my emotional wellness; they’re all tied up in knots with each other. I’m sipping my (black) coffee, thinking about the mental math I did on the commute, trying to figure out realistically how many pounds I want to lose to get to properly healthy place… and how long that may take, trying to stay very honest and real with myself, no games, no bullshit, uncompromisingly honest with the woman in the mirror. Harsh. With no missteps, no failures of will, no injuries that limit my ability to exercise… I’m still looking at (at best) a 2-year journey, and a lifelong commitment to change. Fuck that sounds like… a lot. 😦

…How do I get from here to there, and do it without being a complete jerk to myself? What tools are in my toolkit, and can I use them more skillfully than I have? I know I can rely on my Traveling Partner to be kind, supportive, encouraging, and to hold me accountable in an honest and compassionate way… I feel less sure of being able to provide that to myself. I know from experience that treating myself poorly leads to problematic outcomes, and generally limits my success. It’s just not the best approach. So… now what? How do I avoid the slide into despair over this mess? I feel like self-sabotage is around every corner…

I think about my mother’s challenges with her weight. I think about my Granny’s challenges with hers. I think about my recently deceased dear friend’s challenges with her weight. It’s not easy. It’s likely that each one of these women lived shorter lives than they otherwise might have, had they been more successful at managing their weight and maintaining their fitness. There are lessons here. Lived examples. Things to think about. I sigh out loud and sip my coffee; all the powerful examples in the world do nothing whatsoever to create change. There are verbs involved and no fucking shortcuts result in long-term change. It’s necessary to commit to action… then act. Do the fucking verbs.

I remind myself that it’s hard to go from Detroit to San Francisco if I’m standing in Baltimore. Having an honest awareness of the number on the scale now is useful perspective. I make a point to share it with my Traveling Partner, and with my physician. It hurts to own up to it, but… this is where progress begins. I can’t start in a place where I’m not standing. It’s not as if it isn’t obvious that I’m well-over a healthy weight for my age, height, and body type, just at a glance. It’s not as if I weren’t aware of how difficult it can be to keep moving and to eat healthy – and I can’t claim I didn’t know how important these details are. So. Here I am. Ready for a next step. Ready for a new journey. Ready to make real progress.

…Ready to begin again…

I woke with allergy symptoms this morning. Sinus headache,  stuffy nose, that sort of thing. I think I almost managed to leave the house for my walk without waking my Traveling Partner… then realized I left my purse in another room and had to trek back down the hallway, past the bedroom door. Did that wake him? I tried to be quite quiet…

…Then, as I was putting on my shoes to leave, I knocked over my cane which hit the floor with a loud “bang!”. Why the hell had I left it there?? Super annoying. I sat still,  listening… did I end up waking my partner after all? No obvious way to tell. I head out.

Weird morning. Traffic was surprisingly heavy for Sunday before dawn. It was fine though and the drive was routine. I even remembered to get gas before I left town (good thing I did, gas tank was almost empty).

So… a new day begins.

A rather gray sunrise.

Daybreak came and went. Sunrise, too. It’s a gray morning and looks like rain, maybe. I head down the trail lost in my thoughts, just walking and thinking and doing my best impression of not being in pain. It’s not a great day as far as this physical experience goes. I’ve already taken an Rx pain reliever, and OTC allergy medication, on top of my regular medications. Fucking hell, aging sucks sometimes.

Yesterday I planted the rose “Bolero“. I think I’ve probably planted as many roses as my garden can hold, now, and this one is a fitting final addition to a garden themed on love and memory. Last year (has it already been so long?) I had an interesting experience with my Traveling Partner and the piece of music “Bolero“, which now holds a deeply sentimental place in my heart. I walked enjoying the recollection and a feeling of deep and enduring love and connection for a moment. I listened to the birds and smelled the fresh Spring air,  scented with flowers.

I’ve stopped for a few minutes along the trail. I have it to myself again this morning, which is lovely. I take time to meditate, then to write. I look at the sky overhead. Definitely stormy. I remember the unfinished laundry, before my mind wanders to the very good dinner I cooked last night. My thoughts skip around like the little brown bird near my feet, as I sit on this bench catching my breath and enjoy the moment.

Today will be my second shot of the Ozempic. No idea yet if it’s “working”, at least not based on test results or some clinical evaluation. Anecdotally,  based on my subjective experience, I seem to be getting some benefit from it, and some of the changes are subtle and difficult to describe. It’ll be interesting to see lab results for things like my A1c, and my blood pressure over time. I don’t yet have words for some of the subtle changes to my thinking or emotional experience but those exist, too. Weight loss? I expect to see some results,  but I am not “chasing” that outcome with my whole attention in an unhealthy way. I am more focused on my overall wellness, on eating nutritious, calorie-appropriate meals and getting enough exercise to make gains in fitness. This seems like a better approach for me than spending my time focused on numbers on a scale. (I am way more interested in how my clothes fit and the eager look in my Traveling Partner’s eyes.) So far, no obvious undesirable side effects.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Beautiful morning, in spite of pain and allergies. I glance back down the trail the way I came. Another hiker approaches in the distance; my reminder that this lovely place is not my own. It’s time to wrap this up and begin again.

I woke groggy and in pain, this morning. Massive headache. Sinus congestion (and assorted other allergy symptoms). Tendonitis in my right knee. Osteo-arthritis pain in my spine. Traveling Partner’s bad mood ringing in my ears, first thing. Fucking hell – what a way to start a new work week, and first day back to the office after a couple very relaxing days away from “everything”. After an hour of snarling to myself discontentedly all the way to the city, I sat down to assess the work that landed on my plate while I was out of the office. My coffee is already gone. My headache most definitely is not.

…Pain sucks…

This morning is every bit as just frankly terrible as the weekend was delightful. Maybe there’s a real relationship between those things, but more likely it’s just a random correlation in the timing, with no meaning outside whatever meaning I choose to force into it. I start working on letting all that shit go. All of it. I start by replying to my Traveling Partner’s messages, catching up on email and taking something for my pain. I make another cup of coffee. I wade through 2 days of Slack pings and bookmark a handful for later action. I make notes about what has to get done today, and what needs my attention this week. I make reminders for myself to tackle some tasks my Traveling Partner asked me to handle for him, today.

…Fuck this headache, though…

I’m starting the day feeling distracted and annoyed. It’s less than ideal, and I would very much like to just have a fucking tantrum, cry, and maybe break some shit… but… that’s literally not who I am, or how I prefer to handle my emotions. It’s just a feeling I’m feeling, right now, and it’ll pass. I take a breathe, and a sip of coffee. My eye lands on my calendar, and I realize I’m “ahead of things”, based on the timing I had allotted to do the basic catching up, this morning. That’s a nice – if small – win. I adjust my calendar details for accuracy (it’s just a thing I do), and I don’t put anything into the time I “got back in my day” based on that change – I’ll just go with it. Feels good. Small wins are still wins, and I pause to enjoy that feeling.

I started the Ozempic yesterday. All the anxiety and rethinking and caution and concern… over… what, exactly? It wasn’t at all difficult to give myself the shot. I haven’t had any kind of side effects (yet). “Nothing to see here.” It still has the power to astonish me how often we create our drama and sorrow out of thin air, or allow ourselves to become freaked out over some momentary bullshit that literally does not actually matter in any substantial way. We’re strange creatures. I breathe, exhale, and relax, feeling the pain in my body and trying to let even that just go. My results vary, but making the attempt feels worthwhile, and at least somewhat effective… maybe?

I sit with my irritable mood and my coffee, managing to be annoyed that I “missed the sunrise”, being distracted by work things as soon as I arrived in the office. It’s not worth being annoyed about, but I prefer it over being annoyed with my Traveling Partner, who managed to genuinely vex me this morning, just being human himself. Working toward also letting that go, I find myself annoyed by other things too small to actually care about, which is… fucking stupid, but very human. I quietly remind myself not to let the moment color the day, which seems practical and wise – I hope I can take my own advice. lol

I continue to drink my coffee, plan my day, and fuss to myself quietly over the amount of pain I am in this morning. I’m unlikely to bitch about it openly in my interactions with other people – which serves to remind me how little we can know about what someone else is actually going through. The result is that I find myself looking at my Traveling Partner’s early morning shitty mood with fond compassion and empathy, instead of just being irritated with him for being irritable, himself. No, I didn’t need that shit this morning, at all, but it’s not as if he’s dishing that shit out “on purpose” with an intention of causing me to also have a shitty morning; he’s having his own experience. I feel for him. He woke too early, when I got up to pee in the wee hours, and couldn’t get back to sleep. That sucks. I get being irritable as a result. I sigh to myself, and drink more coffee. My ears are ringing and my head hurts, but it’s not a reason to be a dick to people. I can do better… I just need more practice.

I finish my coffee, and open up my checklist of shit to get done today… it’s time to begin again.