Let the Little Victories Commence.

Little Victories, friends.  Little things add up to such big things.

As I've talked about in this here blog many times before, one of the truest of the most true things I can relay to you (even when I'm not doing it myself...) is this:  I will never cease to be repeatedly amazed at the mighty things that can happen when you simply choose to "do."  

Pyramids weren't built in a day, blah blah blah, insert cliche here, etc.  You get it.
(Speaking of pyramids, Fat Archaeology is SO happening again.)

While I most certainly have not been perfect since my last post, here's what I have been:

Honest.

With myself, that is.

Today, I didn't stick to my calorie goal.  But, I logged it.  I put it all in MyFitnessPal and I made sure to burn off what I ate.  My workout today may not make me lighter, but it will make me more fit, and I won't gain anything.  And working out most certainly did one of the things for which I love it the most:  it made me happy.  I ate a cookie, I had a piece of cheese pizza, I drank two Whitsuns with my work team, and I am still happy.  Not beating myself up, not angry about my poor decisions - content.  And even though I didn't stick to my 1500 calories, you know what I still am?

Happy.

Little Victories are so huge.  I have a tendency to concentrate on the very large, overall picture of where I know things need to and can be, and forget that it takes many a little goal to get there.  If we constantly think about the end result without breaking it down into smaller, regular, attainable and realistic goals, we set ourselves up for a feeling of perpetual failure.  I drive myself absolutely nutty and get nothing accomplished.  It feels infinitely better to meet lots of little goals.

If memory serves me, I think I may know a girl who did just this and lost about 130lbs once upon a time...

Here are my goals for the next week:
I will work out 5 times.
I will stick to my calorie goal a minimum of 4 times.
I will make a new, kickass installment of my Sweaty Beats playlist.
I will spend a half hour per day until Saturday tidying my bedroom.  My closet kind of threw up all over...
I must see How to Train Your Dragon 2.  Seriously, though.  It has to happen.

What've you got up your sleeve?  What would you like to tackle over the next little while?  Pick a little victory in your sights, or perhaps you've already had one recently!  Share away, friends.

Goodbye, 200's!

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On a work-out date night with
my friend, Lindsey.

I was prepared for my weigh-in Tuesday morning.  It is a huge time of transition, and I must admit – I lost control the last couple of weeks.  I worked out hard, but I am hugely aggravated that, in a mentally and emotionally difficult time, I allowed myself to be comforted by indulging in food.  Well – and a few pretty magical craft beers.

I actually left the 200’s the week prior, but I didn’t want to commit to it because I knew that I’d messed it up.  I was certain.  So, I braced myself, stood on the scale, and to my complete surprise, I saw these numbers:

197.7

ONE HUNDRED ninety seven point seven pounds…

I’m really not in the 200’s anymore…  My weight really starts with a 1…  Can you even remember the last time you were in the 1’s?  The smallest weight I can remember is 216.  You are really, really for real in the 1’s, Sarah.  You’re really still there.  That sounds…  Normal…

Things are changing; so many things both in and out of my control.  And while there are many different ways these things have manifested, I realized it all boils down to this: 

I am finally okay with being me.

“Why is this a problem?” you ask?  Because more than being content and confident in myself, I have this little voice inside my head telling me to “know my place.” 

“You can’t say you’re pretty, or go for that, or try this, or think great things are possible for you – be humble,” I hear from some cruel, bossy place within me.  That is not humility. That is confusion, doubt, and fear rearing their ugly head. There has been a big, mean battle within me, and I seem to pull no punches.

No more.  I’m done with the 200’s, and I’m done with this battle.

Eat my shorts, 200's.  I kick and I punch.

Here is what has begun to sink in over the last couple of weeks:

I am a beautiful, loveable, smart, confident person who absolutely adores people and life, and has a good head on her shoulders.  I have no reason to doubt myself.  I have no reason to not stick to my guns.  I have no reason to cower.  I have no reason to feel unworthy.  I never used to be this way, I never should have begun, and I am finished with it.  

Moving into the 100’s, I’ve got to tell you – it’s an interesting time.  It’s a little scary.  And sometimes it’s hard.  And sometimes I freak out a little bit because I’m in a transition between who I was for a while, who I am, and who I’m becoming.  

I like who I’m becoming.

From top left to bottom right:  Me at about 320lbs in January 2011, me at over 300lbs in March of 2011, then
me at 60, 70, 80, 90lbs, and 100lbs lost!

If you'd like to catch up on the big milestones since I've started this here blog, feel free to check these out!

Sixty, Shimxty: Another 10lb Benchmark Smashed.
70lbs - Gone To The Fishes.
81lbs Get The Boot.
30's, Here I Come: Gained a year, and lost 90lbs.
Lost 101 Pounds and Found Myself.

Readers, have you already gone through some of these changes or find yourself in an interesting time of transition, yourself?  I would really love to hear from you.  How are you doing?  How did you get through it?  What advice can you give the rest of us, or what advice do you need from others?  There’s a pretty great group of you out there with invaluable life experience, so let’s share.

Little Victory!

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Brief but awesome...

My wrist is now small enough to do this.

That is all.

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Little Victory: Cartwheel

Actual photo (from google image search) of me (animated
figure) doing a cartwheel (I SWEAR I did one!).

Tonight, for the first time in over 15 years, I did a flawless cartwheel.

I often joke about how big our living room is, and how "It's just too small - I need to be able to do at least two cartwheels, and end in a round-off into the splits..."  I am fortunate to have a very big living room.  Before my roommate and I just-danced for a while tonight, I had a moment of reckless abandon.  And without thinking too much about it, I said "I'm gonna do a cartwheel!"

And, I did it.

It was perfect!  I really don't know how I did it.  I just knew I could, so I did.  We thought it'd be fun to get a photo of me mid-wheel for this blog, so I tried to do it again.  But, I was thinking too much about how I wanted to do it.  I second-guessed myself, and ended up falling down again, and again, until the last time when I'm afraid I managed to hurt myself.  Oh well - I did it that once, and I will do it again.

How did I do it that first time, though?  It felt so effortless and matter of fact when it happened.  I felt myself flying over, feet down, stand up - WOO!  How did I do it?  And is it crazy that, while not at all enjoying the pain, I am strangely satisfied that I'm a bit banged up from trying something I haven't thought I was capable of doing in so very long?

My lesson from this little victory...  Sometimes I need to stop planning, analyzing, and thinking so much about what I'm about to do, and just land a darn cartwheel.

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Lost 101 Pounds and Found Myself.

I began this journey at, well, I'm not sure what my weight was.   I first recorded my weight in March of 2011, and I was 316.5lbs.  I am thrilled to say that as of Monday, 11 months later, I am at 215.5.  I should be excited, but I just find myself a bit dumbfounded.

What does losing 100lbs feel like? 

Bowling a year ago, over 316.5lbs.

It’s a bit like doing Tae Bo moves without your arm literally smacking you in the face. 

It’s sitting on the floor and not seeing your tummy down to your knees. 

It’s not being worried if bathroom stalls will be wide enough.

It’s not being angry if you have to sit next to someone in a movie theatre.

It’s stretching out my thighs before working out without having to rest against the wall, struggling to bend my knee high enough to grab my foot.

It’s walking up flights of stairs, thinking about my breathing and heart rate, hoping that I could make it and that no one would notice how badly I was struggling.

It feels like going to an amusement park and not being turned away from a roller coaster because I don’t fit.

It feels like not having to work out the logistics for every crowded room, for every seat that might not fit, and all the things you haven’t even thought of yet.

It’s being confused when you see a photo with you in it and you don’t stick out anymore.

It feels like walking down the street to get coffee, seeing a reflection and thinking, “Huh… She’s cute…” and then realizing it’s you. 

It’s realizing how badly you wished you could just be a size 18/20 someday, then realizing that you’re past it. 

It feels like remembering how absolutely hopeless the idea of ever being in the realm of normal health and size seemed. 

It feels like meeting your friends’ children without their first words to you being, “You’re biiiig,” and having to think of some clever, lighthearted response to show what a good sense of humor you have. 

It’s making good choices whether or not you’re inspired to.

Old "skinny" jeans!

It feels like going to Macys on Sunday and daring yourself to put on a size 16 pair of Levis in the regular womens’ department and seeing your ridiculous, giddy reaction in the mirror when they fit.

It’s the realization that you can now go shopping anywhere you want and do the same thing.

It feels like finding out your feet are really a size 8.5 to 9 wide, not a 10 or 11.

It’s finally being able to go shoe shopping and understanding the predicament of trying on 100 you love that FIT, and having to make up your mind.

It’s realizing that someone who caught your eye just looked back.

It’s dancing like a mad woman so long that you should have collapsed by now, but you just keep going.

It’s discovering you have a collarbone. 

It’s seeing the curve of your shoulders into triceps.  And you aren’t even flexing.

It feels like chasing your little cousin around the yard.

It’s jogging for…  Well, it’s jogging.  Period.  Even if it’s only for a minute. 

It’s realizing how many people care about you immensely and have genuinely hoped the best for you before you were able to want the best for yourself.

It feels like the huge sigh of relief from your parents when they realize that they don’t have to worry that they’ll outlive you anymore.

It feels like the hope you didn’t realize you were lacking.

It feels like exuding more joy and energy than you were able to before.

It’s realizing how much really is possible.

It’s realizing that I can do it.  Whatever “it” is. 

It feels like I’m free.

It’s living, people.  It is living. 

I remember very, very well how absolutely impossible this seemed.  My Mom and I went to see the first travelling-sister-yaya-panthood movie (or Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants, if you will…).  Every single time there was a scene in Greece, we’d swoon and whisper how much we’d love to go there.  My Mom leaned over to me and said, “When you lose 100lbs, we’ll go there!”  I smiled and said “Okay!” and figured it’d definitely, probably, maybe happen someday.  I’ve known for many years that I needed to do something.  As hopeless as I have been, some part of me knew that it was certain to happen someday.  I just didn’t know when.  Who knows why we’re wired the way we are, but once a switch inside of me is flipped, it is done.  D, O, N, E…  Done.  I don’t know why it took so long for this internal switch to get flipped, but fashionably late is better than never.  The Big Guy Upstairs must’ve known what he was up to, after all.

So, how does one celebrate losing 100lbs?  We’ll get to Greece, eventually.  But for now…

By getting a new pair of workout shoes with a gift certificate to Gazelle Sports from your parents!  Once again, the folks at Gazelle pointed me in the right direction, new shoe size and all. 

By making a new dinner concoction, and being quietly satisfied that 100lbs in, you’re satisfied celebrating with a delicious, healthy meal that I will tell you about tomorrow.

By sitting on my couch trying desperately to write a blog post, puzzled as to why I’m not more excited about it, then being blessed with the realizations above.   

While writing this and looking back on my journey so far, I find myself overcome by this thought:

I think about you, Readers.  I do.  And today in particular, I’m thinking very much about those of you who might be in the same boat as I was, feeling hopeless and facing an impossible battle.  More than anything, I sincerely and earnestly hope that something in this little blog of mine will show you just how deserving and capable you are of making it happen.  I have silly amounts of love for you, and want desperately for you to have your own interesting, difficult, amazing journey to share.  Thank you for being a part of mine!

From top left to bottom right: my skinny jeans size 24, workout pants size XL pants and L tshirt from Old Navy,
size 24 skinny jeans from side, size 28 skirt, current size 18 jeans that are too big, black dress size 22/24 from Lane Bryant.  

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