One year ago, I wrote this entry.
I was upset because Brent and I had gone to dinner for our 2nd anniversary, and it left me feeling fat and horrible.
Now, one year later, I don't weigh what I thought I would (260), but I feel infinitely better both mentally and physically. I've lost 45 pounds since last April; I never thought 45 pounds could make such a big difference.
Yes, April. Despite how upset I was in that blog entry, it still took me another three months to get going.
Here are the points I raised in that entry compared to how far I've come:
Worrying about finding a seat at the movie theatre with a moveable armrest and then doing the musical chair dance to ensure you end up in that seat, with nobody to your left (or right as the case may be), without being obvious about it because you don't want them to know you want it because you're too fat to fit between the armrests. Since movie chairs are designed for fatties, not fitting means you're superfat. Side note: if your boyfriend ends up next to the armrest you want to move, move it and make up something like, "I want to snuggle."
I no longer have issues with movie theatre seats. Brent and I have been to the movies twice in the past couple of months, and I fit without any issues. I even have room to move around. When I raise the armrest to "snuggle", it truly is to snuggle, not because I need more room.
Paying for two seats on an airplane. I don't think the policy is stupid. What's stupid is being the size of two people, hence needing two seats. This also means I can't travel anywhere without coughing up $600-700.
I still, technically, need two seats. The seatbelt fits, and I can put the armrests down, but it's a very tight fit and I'm really uncomfortable. I have to press my legs together to keep my thighs from pushing against the person next to me. I don't like feeling crammed in, and it's not fair to the other person, so I do still need two seats. This doesn't surprise or bother me, though, since the last time I flew comfortably, I weighed 250 pounds. I know I still have some work to do, and that's okay. Maybe I'll be able to hit this one by our fourth anniversary. :)
Going to Chicago with your boyfriend and crying because you don't fit in the seat at Wrigley Field, meaning you have to stand in the back through the entire game. Later, you won't fit into the seats at the planetarium. This results in a meltdown because you are too scared to go anywhere else for fear you won't fit. Also, huffing and puffing your way up the subway steps. Or better yet, having to sit down every half-hour while touring museums because your feet are tired of supporting your weight. The best? Not being able to fit in the patio seating at a restaurant, so you have to wait an hour for a booth (also tight).
We haven't been to Wrigley since I lost 15 pounds (last July), so I'm not sure how the seats are now. I weighed exactly what I weigh now the first time we went (312), and while I couldn't sit all the way back in the seats, they weren't uncomfortable. I could still scoot far enough back that my legs had room. The reason we had to stand when I weighed 357 was because I was practically squatting on the edge of the seat and my knees were dying from being bent like that. I'm excited to go this spring because I bet I can get under 300 by then. I can't wait to see if I can sit all the way back.
The planetarium seats are fine now.
I can walk up/down subway steps without any issues. I did it for an entire day in October, and by the time I got tired, Brent was tired too, so I didn't feel "fat".
I didn't have to sit down at the museum until we'd been on our feet for nearly four hours. Even Brent and Stacy were getting tired, so again, I didn't feel "fat". I felt like any other person sitting on the benches after a long day.
Booths aren't tight anymore, but I haven't had a chance to test patio seating yet. Again, that will have to wait for spring. I'm not concerned. I have a feeling I could probably sit in patio chairs right now, and I'll be even smaller by spring.
Not being able to pull yourself out of the pool because you got used to being weightless, and now your arms and legs can't shove you out of the water.
Ha! I forgot about this one. That was horrifying. I almost fell back into the pool because I could NOT pull myself up that ladder and almost lost my grip. I've been swimming many, many times since then, and I haven't had a single issue. I actually look forward to swimming again. We're going to Chicago in March, and I made sure the hotel has a pool. :)
Postponing getting out of the recliner for a drink or food or a bathroom break for as long as possible because you can't stand the pain in your knees when you get up. Then, you collapse back into the recliner immediately after you take care of whatever need you required, as if you just ran a marathon or something.
This is one of those things where I never thought it would happen to me, but it did, and now it's a distant memory again. I am constantly getting up to get a drink or talk to Brent or go to the bathroom or whatever without a second thought. My knee only bothers me if I worked it too hard the day before, and even then it's not that bad. I remember those days, though, and I'm so grateful I don't feel that way anymore, especially since our new place is three times the size of our old place. ;)
Doing laundry on the last possible day (i.e. running out of socks or underwear) because you can't stand going up and down three flights of stairs.
Ha! I do laundry every week now, sometimes twice if I need a couple things for the weekend. Also, in our old place, you had to go down three short flights of stairs. Our new place has four long flights, there are twice as many stairs (yes, I counted), and they're much steeper. I don't even think about it. It's work, yes, especially with a laundry bag full of clothes, but it's no big deal.
Driving two blocks to your favorite restaurant under the pretense, "It's too cold outside," instead of admitting to your boyfriend you're too embarrassed to walk with him. Why are you too embarrassed? Because even though he won't admit it, he has to slow his pace by 50% to allow you to waddle along next to him. This makes you feel like an invalid, which makes you feel ashamed. You're only 35, for crying out loud. 80-year olds can out-pace you. That's not right.
We walked to the restaurant last night, and I kept pace with him. At one point, I was walking faster. :) Also, I don't waddle anymore, and that's cured a lot of my previous foot issues. I used to over-pronate because I had to walk around my thighs. Now, my feet are straight and my stride is correct.
Eating to make myself feel better
I never do that anymore. Ever. I slipped for two days after Christmas because I was so overwhelmed with stress, but then I got right back to eating correctly and exercising and dropped all ten pounds of Christmas bloat. I'm back to the point where I respect food and I'm almost afraid of it (yes, I know that's a whole new issue) instead of loving it and using it to comfort me. I just cannot and will not be that big again, and I want to be under 300 pounds so badly it hurts.
On that note, Brent is still in bed, so I'm going to head to the gym. :)