Blog #16 – February 9, 2016

F R O M   L O R I . . .

I have a new yearning. I want to move my body because it feels good, not because it’s exercise. Not because it’s good for me. Not for any of the reasons that pigeonhole movement as a bloody chore. A duty. Something you have to get done in a day. Ugh.

I’ll tell you one thing for certain. Exercising when you are morbidly obese sucks hard, harder than I even knew or admitted at the time.

A few years ago, I joined Goodlife Fitness. I would walk on the treadmill for 30 minutes and do weights for 30-60 minutes. I was ferocious and sweaty. I wasn’t messing around. Despite the fact that I was embarrassed and ashamed to be the biggest person in the gym, I’d fake confidence every time I strode in. I took comfort in the fact that I probably wouldn’t get made fun of at the gym. I mean, how colossal of a douche-face would one have to be to make fun of a fat lady exercising?  At least they can’t say I wasn’t doing something about it.

Going to Mexico really pushed me to get physical. Since the gastric bypass surgery, quickly followed by emergency incarcerated hernia surgery (I love that my hernia sounds like a thug who was in jail), I put myself in voluntary exile to recover. Hot damn, it felt good to put myself first! I shall be doing much more of that.

However, my exile got a bit… hmm, physically too comfy. Okay, sedentary. Motionless. All right! I was a cozy lump. It was winter. We had a fire roaring. I’d heat up my microwave slippers while tumbling my favourite blankie in the dryer then roll myself in warmth. Side note: turning myself into a piping hot human burrito is very comforting. I do it in place of using food as comfort.

I had to face the inevitable fact that moving my body would be necessary to continue to lose weight. The snorkeling in Mexico was a great quick start method. Some lady I met at a cenote said, “Ha! Well snorkeling is just floating!” She was from Edmonton, so I killed her. That’s not how I snorkel, E-town! I see something big and frightening in the water and I have to investigate, which often results in me kicking my legs so hard my flippers start melting as the aforementioned creature tries to flee the interview.

In any case, now the treadmill and I are flirting with each other. God, it is so much easier to do anything physical without all those extra pounds. I don’t want to jinx it, but when Spring arrives (real Spring, not this weirdness), I might… I… ahem… dear lawdy, I might go for a… hike.  SHUT UP! I said don’t jinx it!

Could you imagine if I did it just because it felt good? I would do this constantly:

 

Love,

Lori

Pounds lost this week: .5

Total pounds lost: 44.4

If you need some freaking crafty Valentine’s Day ideas, you can watch me on CTV and Global TV:

http://calgary.ctvnews.ca/video?clipId=801668

http://globalnews.ca/?s=lori+gibbs

F R O M   B R A D . . .

No Avia scale pic this week. I had a great 3.5lb drop at my weigh in on Saturday, ran (shut up) home to get a pic for the blog and could only get an ERROR message on the scale. It likely couldn’t believe itself. I may have blown its mind. I can’t seem to find any fix on line so there’s a customer support call in my near future. Fat guy breakthrough moment this week… I have started going to the gym in hotels when I’m on the road. What a foreign and strange place. It’s like an operating room, I know these machines can help save my life but I have no idea what they do. I’ve started with the old stand-by, the stationary bike. Stop laughing, 30 minutes is better than nothing. BTW, I would totally be the colossal douche-face making fun of the fat lady exercising.

I drank two bottles of wine on Sunday. I’ll walk you through the thought process. I’ve been feeling great after 37 days of not drinking at all, exercising, and eating really well. But constantly in the back of my mind, and I mean constantly, was the thought of drinking again. When would I decide to have a drink? How will I feel about it afterwards? Will I start drinking to excess all the time again? Am I not able to be a social drinker? Will I put the weight back on? It’s fucking exhausting.

Sunday morning Becca loaded her stuff in a trailer, hopped in a vehicle with her new roommates, and left to start out on her own in Saskatoon. Since she informed us of her decision to move out I’ve been all tough guy. “Great, it’s time for you to go out on your own; it’s time for you to get a big feed of the real world and independence.” When her mom felt anxious and sad I resorted to the, “It’s the best thing we can do for her, she has to grow up. I’m not sad, I’m happy she’s going. You’re looking at it the wrong way.” Five minutes after the door closed and she pulled away I was smothered in a wave of unbelievable sadness. I cried like a big fat baby. There was snot. Once I gathered myself I stopped in this true emotion (as per my therapist) and tried to get to what it was that happened. I know her leaving absolutely has to happen, and that it’s the right thing. Bird. Nest. All that shit. And then it hit me. I’m afraid I haven’t prepared her for life. I haven’t given her the tools that she needs to excel on her own. I’ve been so focused on my own shit over the last five or so years that I’ve neglected her. There were a thousand things I could have done that I didn’t do. My baby is unprotected and I’m scared shitless.

What a great excuse to get drunk. There it was. The excuse I’d been looking for. The only thing that pairs better than wine and cheese is wine and depression. But this time it was a little different. I had committed to the drinking so I went for a 50 minute walk to see if it would go away, it did not. Also it would pre-burn some calories given what was coming. Balance baby, balance. I’m not unaware that this was a step backwards. Now it’s Monday and what are my thoughts? I liked the buzz but there was no magic in it. Drinking didn’t solve anything. I felt shitty this morning but I refuse to beat myself up or continue going backwards. Here’s what did help. My friends who have gone through the Empty Nest thing pretty much all felt the same way. They doubted their parenting; they underestimated what their kids were capable of accomplishing once out on their own. Within 24 hours of posting a picture of Becca leaving on Facebook I received many positive, supportive comments and thoughts. Who knew it could be used for good and not evil? My favorite was from my friend Darcy who said, “Remember, kids are like beer bellies, they never go away.” Within an hour of his comment on my post I got this text from her after realizing she had forgotten to pack her winter parka:

She needs me!!! I’m off to the hotel gym.

-Brad

Pounds lost this week: 3.5

Total pounds lost: 34.1