Memorandum

Memorandum
From: The body
To: The brain
Re: Hostile Working Conditions
This memo is to inform you that the conditions you have placed me under are no longer acceptable. The grueling, harsh work you put me under has over loaded my inbox and I am not able to stay current.
When I do fall behind on the abnormal amount of work you expect me to perform, you scream at me, berate me, call me awful names and otherwise put me under undue duress.
Not only am I expected to perform my normal job duties, maintaining complex functions and systems (at a drastically reduced pay scale I might add), you have now added to my job description duties I have never performed before and I am not trained to do satisfactorily.
Therefore, I feel confident in issuing the following ultimatum: quit speaking to me in these unappreciative tones. Immediately cease all name calling. I will continue to handle the extra work, and eventually be experienced enough to handle all of your expectations. I must have forgiveness and love each and every time I do not perform to your extreme and unrealistic expectations. Failure to meet my demands will result in immediate emptying of your bladder at all social functions.
Additionally, I might add that your continual practical joking of the mouth and stomach are only adding to an already complicated work place. I have their assurance that they support my demands and promise their own results if you fail to comply.
Thanks, The body.

Mea Culpa

I know I'm whining, forgive me. I'm throwing myself a splendid pity party and apparently, you're invited.
So, it's Thursday. As I explained in my last post, I had a FIVE pound gain since Sunday. Well... I got 4.7 pounds off of it since. So, since last week I have gained
.3 lbs. Not too bad. In 4 days I have lost 4.7 pounds. So, I'm just going to keep on keeping on. I also lost .7% body fat. Why in the world is body fat percentage so friggin' hard to lose!? You'd think with all the cardio and weight training I am doing that things would... well, change faster. These small weight changes after an entire week of killing myself is FOR THE BIRDS! Eleven weeks ago I had a 13 pound loss! THIRTEEN POUNDS! Now, I am losing parts of pounds, and gaining back.
It is frustrating and annoying to see that my body can't handle the slightest amount of slack. Even extreme amounts of exercise produce only the slightest changes. Lately I feel like I do nothing but workout. It's the first thing on my mind when I wake up... gotta go, gotta go, gotta go... and the last thing I think of when I fall asleep... did I do enough? Did I sweat enough? Did I burn enough? I always answer myself, "no. You could have done more. You're abs aren't sore enough, you're not tired enough. You could have done more."
I know muscle weighs more than fat, but as someone who is still SOOOO fat, I get discouraged. If working out 60-90 minutes everyday, drinking 100-150 ounces of water everyday and eating less than 1400 calories EVERYDAY produced some significant results, I know I would feel the motivation to do more. Right now, I am wondering why I am bothering to kill myself. If my body is so hell bent on staying fat, then FINE! Do it... seems I am going to be fat no matter what I do.
I watched the season finale of The Biggest Loser. Some of the contestants had lost only a fraction of the weight I have, yet they are completely transformed. They have their lives back, and I am only a little more than half way. I am giving myself another year's committment.... to see this thing through until my son's 2nd birthday (his first was just this month). 113.3 pounds in 1 year? Please GOD let it be doable. If, after an entire year of doing the same I am not in the 100's, I am not sure I would have the strength to carry on. I just can't understand why my body is fighting me SO much. It's like my 7 year old, arguing with my every word for the simple joy of raising my blood pressure.
It's taking me a lot to stay so motivated, so focused and not just grab a candy bar. The thing is, if I beat myself up over ONLY working out 90 minutes, think of what I would do to myself if I ate a Snickers. I'm having pictures of a Catholic monks beating themselves with reeds crying "mea Culpa."
One lesson I have gained this week is that I CANNOT slack. I CANNOT lose focus, I CANNOT allow this journey to travel to the back of my mind. Just doing so for 2 days cost me so dearly. I don't think I can emotionally afford another set back. This journey is emotionally exhausting already without giving myself more work.
Sorry to be such a downer. I wish I could be motivating and inspiring for you all the time, but it's important to be honest... it's important for me to show my weak and strong sides. Otherwise, someone else on this journey may not be so forgiving when they encounter these feelings within themselves.

Have a good Thursday everyone. I'll post something more cheery soon.

Le Sigh...

ok, so I've been a bit MIA to my friends, family and my blog this week. I'm here to make amends. As I've explained in previous posts, I weigh myself on Thursdays and that is the only weight I record... but I still weigh myself every day to make sure I am making progress. So, this weekend was AMAZING. We had our dear friends over for dinner Friday, and spent most of Saturday and Sunday together. I love my friends.
I made good choices. I didn't have any dessert on Friday, no junk food on Saturday and on Sunday I ordered a veggie breakfast burrito but only ate the insides.
I have a point, promise.
I worked out every bleeding day. I didn't drink enough water and I had 4 glasses of wine. So, Sunday evening all the way until this morning I had a 5 pound gain. I have been LIVING in the gym, working my arms, legs, abs, busting out cardio until my shirt is drenched and sticking to my back. I added Yoga and began doing my weight lifting WHILE riding the stationary bike. I have been drinking 150 ounces of water everyday and sticking to my food plan. Three pounds came off between last night and this morning. I am trying to get the last 2 pounds off so maybe, just maybe I can break even. Now, I believe that the gain was actually water retention since yesterday I drank 150 ounces and barely pee'd at all!!! We'll see what I have to report on Thursday. I am just praying it's not a gain.
On a plus note, I got into a pair of jean shorts I haven't been able to wear since 2006. They are FOUR sizes smaller than what I was wearing in March.
I am playing with my kids more, and I think it's just great that THEY get tired much sooner than I do. I just get a kick out of that. My biceps are popping out and I feel much stronger.
Sorry if this doesn't make sense, it's late and I am beat. I just couldn't go to bed another night without blogging.

Weigh-in

Thursdays are either very good or very bad. This week is ok I suppose. I lost 3 pounds, which brings my total lost to 167, and 113 left to lose. Not too shabby. I added a second set of cardio into my workout as well as a bit of Yoga to keep my flexibility. Hopefully that pays off next week.
I bought some new clothes yesterday. One of the shirts is a smallish tank top. I DO NOT wear tank tops in public - I am too embarassed by my arms, but I am seeing more definition each day so I am feeling more confident.
That's all for today really - my motivation is up. I am off to lift some weights, shower and run a zillion errands with the baby before the 7 year old gets out of school. Then it's off to gymnastics.

Ultra-tomatoes

For some reason, I have lost my spunk today. It's been gradually slipping away over the last few days... I've been more tired, putting off my exercises... just plain ick.
I am seeing a slight comeback of my bitchier, bitter side. Last night while watching the Biggest Loser, my significant other made some off handed remark about former contestants who gain the weight back. She couldn't understand WHY after all that effort, people would allow themselves to fall back to old habits. All I saw was red.
When I met her, I was 100 pounds lighter than I was last year. I was in the middle of my weight loss, and she was in the middle of a self-destruct mode that included lots of cigarettes, alcohol and fast food. She also was extremely needy in the beginning and couldn't be away from me for very long - so I couldn't even exercise and she REFUSED to). I tried several times to end the relationship, scared that I was losing (and I did lose) everything that was important to me. So, because I sacrificed my priorities, I gained 100 pounds.
I began to tell her all the ways she influenced me to gain my weight... "oh, you've been good, you can cheat a little," or "it's Soandso's birthday! Have another drink..." or "I am too tired to cook, let's grab something on the way home..." The constant pressure to be unhealthy was hard to handle.
She yelled at me for me to not blame all my gain on her. I try not to, obviously I still had major issues if I allowed myself to be pressured again and again. But, as the only one in my family actively trying to be healthier... it's hard to keep up the motivation.
Last night after coming home I suggested we go exercise... I got a lot of blahs. That pretty much sums up the effort around here. Someone tries it with me for a day or two, then they start to feel tired or sore and they give up for a few weeks and then begin again. I think the thing that irks me so much is that they all want a gold star for putting in a tenth of the effort that I do. If they do one day's workout, they brag about it for a week... meanwhile I am still trudging to the gym almost everyday.
I can barely keep my enthusiasm up for MY journey... let alone everyone else's. I can't talk you into exercising, quitting smoking, eating better or taking vitamins. It takes every bit of my willpower to do these things for myself! So... as of this moment, they are all on their own. I am not going to drag them behind me, kicking and screaming. If they want to walk this path with me, they will have to catch up on their own when they are ready.
It's fucking HARD looking down the barrel of 116 pounds. It's so hard looking at my body everyday in the mirror and not noticing any major changes. It's so hard to not say, "forget this!" and decide to remain 116 pounds overweight. I am trying really hard NOT to take the easy way out (something that is decidely foreign to most Americans, but that is a different post).
This MUST be the first thing I finish... I've given up so much already. I hope I'm more upbeat tomorrow. But, even after as much as I've lost... the path ahead is only going to be harder and as I approach "looking normal" it will be easier for me to settle for "good enough."

The Coolest Thing in the World...

So, one of the women on Fitday posted this AMAZING website (http://www.naturalphysiques.com/howmanypounds/) where you enter how much weight you've lost/want to lose and they tell you what it means in terms you can understand such as... my 164 pound loss equals saying "no" to 6598 glasses of wine or jumping rope for 29 days straight! Amazing, and lots of fun.
So, now that I have achieved one goal, I am setting another: I want to lose an even 200 pounds (though more is ok too!) by my 30th birthday - which is July 7th. So, about 7 weeks to lose 36 pounds. Think I'm crazy? Maybe...
The whole family has started working out, which is just so thrilling to me. I find that I hold myself back a little to stick with them, but they are DOING IT... and I want to honor that.
On another health note, I quit smoking today. I'd quit smoking for 18 months when we decided to get pregnant again, but started again on New Years Eve of this year. I just hate how gross I smell, the horrible breath and the aching feeling in my lungs. After a great workout my lungs feel so clean and clear - I hate polluting that with cigarettes. That and considering that my mother is dying from her 43 year cigarette addiction means that I just can't do it anymore.
There is a point in your life when smoking stops looking cool and just starts looking freaking dumb. When those wrinkles start creeping into your face and your fingers are turning yellow is when it stops being sexy... and starts becoming a turn off.
So, here's to my first evening of being smoke free (again). Wow, no more drinking, healthy eating, exercise and no more smoking... who the hell am I!? Eventually I want to kick my addiction to artificial sweeteners but my paralyzing fear of diabetes keeps that my strongest addiction.

One Down... Two To Go!

So, this morning as I was getting ready for church.... I saw my old nemesis peeking out from my closet.

They were all black... the appropriate color for a villian. They taunted me with just a flash of shine. I examined them from the corners of my eyes. They knew I could hear their jeering... zippers flapping like miniature tongues - spraying me (and all my efforts) with spittle.

"We are too much for you... you know you don't want to start your day like this... just leave it alone and come back when you really want a piece of us... see your trusty maryjanes? Yea, that's more your speed, Tubby."

I pretended to ignore the cheeky bastards. Today, defeat was not an option. They were completely unaware of my secret trainings at dawn. I had cleverly forgotten to mention it to them. I calmly walked to my dresser, pulled out my stockings and put them on in the other room. I entered the closet once more... still not giving them the benefit of eye contact. Best if I catch them unaware. I continued with the subterfuge by grabbing a leopard print wrap-around-skirt. It was too big!! So, pretending to whine and look for another skirt, I quickly entered the closet once more. I knew the ruse was complete!

There they sat, staring up at my skirts... wondering which one I would choose when WHAM! I snatched them up by the calves, walked them directly to my bed and ZIPPPPPPPPED them up.

That would be the last time stylish footwear makes me their enemy. I can almost hear them warning those skinny jeans in the back of my drawer.

I wanted to take a victory picture, so after my workout this afternoon, I changed back into my outfit... so, forgive the hair and raccoon eyes... I was a bit sweaty. Sigh, eventually I will take a picture BEFORE my workout!

Disturbingly Obsessed? I prefer the term, "Dedicated"

I have noticed that I am becoming one of those annoying people who can only talk about one thing.... I am constantly looking at my body, grabbing parts of it and yanking them back and forth to see how tight the muscle is or how much loose skin I have.
I talk calories, exercise, water and vitamins with anyone who will listen. I can imagine how dull I must seem to my friends and family. God, I am turning into such a bore. I vow from here on to only talk fitness when I am asked.
I do this every so often. I become centrally focused and completely absorbed in a single topic... the unfortunate side effect being that I can really only give that kind of dedication to one thing at a time. Don't get me wrong! I am not slacking or relaxing at all - I feel perfectly justified in devoting this attention to my body after decades of neglect.
Women do this - we focus on taking care of everyone else while we fall to shit. I am done falling to shit. I did it, sure... but I never did it gracefully. I was never one of those wives who just selflessly gave every last iota of her essence gratefully. I am no Florence Henderson. I am the type who gives and gives and gives... and keeps score. I was resentful, bitter and angry that the world expects me to bleed, sweat and push myself to exhaustion just because I have a uterus and a set of matching ovaries.
The way I see it, this is my damned time and everyone can just pitch in a little more. The morbid truth of it is that unless I start putting my health first, I am going to end up like my dad - dead at 43. Everyone will have to do a lot more around here if I am dead, or a diabetic amputee with congestive heart failure like my mother... so I selfishly take my gym time, I selfishly spend money on my protein, vitamins and fitness program.
The great news is that for the most part, my family is pretty understanding about the time commitment. I just know that most moms out there can't get 5 minutes to pee in private, let alone be allowed to LEAVE the house sans les enfants. And that shit is just rediculous, breeds passive aggressive and codependent wives/mothers.
I've noticed a significant reduction in my bitterness. I don't just swallow everything down, keeping a Master Tally in my head to dig up during the next big fight. If things get done, fabulous... If not, I will get to them when I get to them - but for the first time in my life I am giving my inner control freak a coffee break. The baby isn't going to DIE if I am not the one who changes his diaper, the 7 year old won't be scarred for life if I am not the one tucking her in. And my GOD... CPS won't be called if I don't take out the trash everyday. Right now, I am higher on my priority list than I have ever been.... sure I might be disturbingly obsessed, or I just might be dedicated enough to achieve what I've put my mind to for the first time in my life. For women everywhere!
- Sorry for the rant, I really don't know where that came from!

TMI? Not for me...

So, anyone who has ever been extremely overweight (or owned a very small tub), knows the sheer mortifying reality that comes with either filling up or emptying the tub while sitting in it. You become a flesh dam! No water gets either in front or behind you, since your butt is perfectly wedged into the tub.

Well, here's to a non-scale victory. My ass now has a good four inches on the side of it when I sit in the tub. This is a big development for a recovering flesh dam! On another nice note, I can stand and completely shave my legs... all twisty and turny and I can reach every inch without holding my breath or having to lie down in the tub with my legs on the wall.... here's to becoming normal.

I weighed in yesterday (Thursdays are my weigh in days) and I have now lost 164 pounds. I would still like to get my body fat percentage down, but I am definitely seeing the results. Now I have 116 left to lose until my goal...

My clothes are baggier, but I am still have not lost a single size. Which is freaking impossible to believe since I have lost 41 pounds in 9 weeks. Just going to give my body time to catch up.

I am feeling kindof over being in pain. My bicep healed, though I am still on lighter than normal weights. Earlier this week I spilled a pot of boiling water down the front of myself and the burn runs across my entire torso. Then, by some miracle I woke up with another burn on my knuckle and a huge scrape across the other - like I was fighting something in my sleep. That and a few blisters and an abcessed molar... I am through with the pain. I just want the pain to go away - it's making me depressed and feeling gross. Oh, and a huge pimple coming in on my nostril... thanks a lot. Maybe if I have all my injuries at once, I will just go for a long while feeling great. Here's hoping.

I woke up this morning at 5AM and rocked out my workout. I ate 1180 calories and will have drunk 100 ounces of water before going to sleep. Next big goals to incorporate: quit diet soda, quit all articificial sweeteners... get my entire workout completed before 7AM.... hahaha, I am so living in the clouds.

Have a great weekend, I'll be watching the water drain out of the tub. Peace.

Why the EFF am I doing this!?

Jeffrey Keyes, Knee High Boots and a certain little black dress I have to wear this July... these are just some of the things that keep me motivated.
Jeffrey...
Growing up, I was super morbidly obese. I was topping 100 pounds in the 3rd grade. My parents were too wrapped up in their own drama to be concerned with my burgeoning weight. And, with a mother who was rounding 500 pounds, agoraphobic and slept most of her day - weight was a huge taboo. I recall that when my parents fight, I knew the fever pitch had set in when my father mentioned my mother "getting off her fat ass." So, very very fat and living in a trailer park... I sortof had a giant target on me from the word go.
People say, "kids are cruel." That's like saying the Titanic ran into an ice cube tray. Understatement. My parents (who never ran out of cigarettes, with 3 pack a day habits EACH) couldn't afford to buy me socks. I told kids at school that I was wearing "invisible socks." I was 8 people, it's not that lame! I would ask my mom to help me lose weight, and she would inform me that I was never going to be thin, so I might as well accept it. Kids called me horrible names and I took it all to heart. There was this one.... Jeffrey Keyes. He was the worst. My own personal demon sent from the depths of hell to bury me in my misery. Thanks to Jeffrey, I had a single friend throughout Elementary and Middle School. She still wet the bed... so, big target there too. Jeffrey was the one who gave me my nickname, Pig. Jeffrey was the one who raised his hand one day in 8th grade and suggested we fill my belly button up with water so they all could go swimming. Everyone laughed. I went home and attempted suicide for the first time.
So, like a good little demon, Jeffrey has crossed my mind on various occasions throughout my life: the first time someone said I was beautiful, the first time I fell in love, my wedding, when I was carrying my children, everytime I get up and sing Karoke... there he is, taunting me... torturing me. Reminding me to shrink away, hide from any and all attention... reminding me that I don't even deserve to be alive.
In 2008, I ran into Jeffrey. I was running into the bank to make a deposit... and he was working as a teller. He recognized me immediately. Of course I knew who he was as well. My heart began to race, my knees went weak. Bile rose in my throat and I ran outside, getting sick in the bushes.
I am losing this weight so I can go into that damned bank again, walk right up to his teller stall and conduct a transaction. Then, I just want to walk away. No confrontation, no teary eyed confession of how one little boy caused me so much psychological agony. Just success at facing him, looking him in the eye, acknowledging that I am a different person now... that I am no longer Pig, and that I love myself. I need to forgive myself so I can forgive him and all those children.

Boots...
I have the cutest pair of knee high leather boots. I bought them and they didn't fit... My calves were too large. I pulled on them, I stretched them, I paid $100 for a shoe repair store to stretch them... they still don't fit. I laid on my bed and cried over those boots, hating that I could be so defeated by some leather, thread and a zipper. Today, I can zip those beauties up all but 4 inches. I am going to get there, I am going to wear those sexy ass boots if it kills me and I have to be buried in them. Unfortunately it is now Spring, and knee highs are no longer the fashion. No worries, I'll rock 'em in the Autumn.

Black Dress...
Do you have that friend, the one who loves you so much that she never fully sees your many flaws? If so, you are truly blessed. I have one, it's my Sara. Sara is marrying Adrian in July. Sara has an amazing body and looks terrific in a paper sack. She also has great taste and chose for her bridesmaids these cute LITTLE dresses for us to wear. I just can not stand the idea of ruining her wedding pics (I can hear her arguing with me now), so I sweat and work because I love her more than my own sisters. Before, the idea of dresses scared the hell out of me. Now, I just get excited about losing another 40 pounds before her wedding (eep!) and rocking the hell out of that little number. Even have the cutest pair of strappy heels to wear with it. The bride should always be the most glamorous, gorgeous creature at her wedding - and Sara will be, make no mistake! - but I wouldn't mind making the top ten... and certainly wouldn't mind if I was no longer the biggest friend in the pictures.

That's what motivates me... along with the usual: kids, health... all that jazz - this is the meat of it. When I can barely see, sweat pouring in my eyes and feel like I want to give up, I remember Jeffrey, boots and Sara's sexy dress and somehow I find a few more miles within myself.

I get a lot of people asking me one question: HOW DO YOU DO IT? So, I will write it down right here for ya:

Food:

Within 1 hour of waking: 1 Mocha Protein Shake Packet, 1 Cappacino Protein Shake Packet in 16 ounces of plain black coffee. Blended (with the lid slightly off or the hot coffee will create too much pressure and your blender will explode protein all over you and your kitchen).

2-3 Hours Later: Snack (2 hard boiled eggs)

3-4 Hours Later: 10 peices of TURKEY (super low fat, low cal) salami, a low fat string cheese stick and a whole tomato.

2 Hours Later (or sooner if I am hungry or will be busy at my eating time): Another cheese stick and another tomato, or half a large cucumber sliced up.

Dinner: Usually 4-6 ounces of a lean poultry, a salad (with feta or blue cheese crumbles for fats) and about 1-2 cups of steamed broccoli

By the end of the day: 4 servings of unsaturated fats, 30-40 grams of non-starchy veggie based carbs, 150 grams protein, 100 ounces of water... around 1200 calories. But I feel as though I am constantly eating! I always have something to shove in my face, I just make sure it's something worthwhile... and something that's not going to land me in the gym for another 2 weeks.

Exercise:

Morning: 35 minutes of cardio (usually stationary bike on the "weight loss" programming, which runs 4 minute cycles between resistance levels of 1 and 10 and then a 5 minute cool down.

Evening: 3 sets of 10 each: bicep curls, side arm raises, shoulder squeezes, door knobs, tricep kick backs and the overhead lifts. (3-4 days a week)

3 sets of 20 each: toe taps, muffin tops, torso twists, bicyles (everyday)

3 sets of 1 minute each: planks with side leg tap outs, side planks (everyday)

40 dips (2x a week)

100 push-ups (2x a week)

Stretching (5 minutes at least every day)

It looks like a lot, and it is... but believe me, when my body is aching and all worn out - that's the feeling I CRAVE now! Nice and worked. My energy and moods are both through the roof.

Now, I take a LOT of vitamins... just to ensure I am remaining healthy and since my family has a history of diabetes, heart disease and alzheimers, I take supplements that are proven to fight those disorders. I drink diet pepsi or a diet energy drink throughout the day to make it feel like I have a treat, and I track everything I eat on FitDay.com ... I love this website. Even more than the food journal, I LOVE LOVE LOVE the support forums. You will never find another group of more compassionate or caring people. So, food, exercise, vitamins, water and SUPPORT. That's how I roll. Oh, and typing here to you fine people as well. ;0)

Next Blog: Motivators.... or what I like to call, "WHY THE EFF AM I BOTHERING TO DO THIS!?"

Yea, that was effing dumb.

So, this weekend was my son's 1st birthday party... and I ended up tearing a three inch hole in my bicep... I have been on therapeutic rest since Saturday night. It is a dumb injury, one might even say BONEHEAD. Don't agree to arm wrestle with a 16 year old... especially one who's arms are as big around as your neck. Certainly don't arm wrestle with a 16 year old boy who doesn't understand that if he pulls and pushes your arm in many different directions while you are fully flexed. It hurts, and that stunt may cost you surgery.

You don't think I let that stop me do you!? Do you know who I am?

So, since I can't do my weight lifting, I am bumping up with 2 hours of cardio and still doing my core exercises. I am doing 60 toe taps, 60 bicycles, and some serious butt workouts!

I am fighting a bit of depression, really pissed at myself and just hate that I can't work out my arms. Lisa, my trainer called to check on me today. She is so awesome. We discussed the possibility of me becoming a triathlete like it was a real possibility! I just had to crack up over that one. It is a dream though. We got on the topic of plastic surgery (I am having my head transplanted onto Barbie's body... just drill the appropriate holes) and she said that my tummy tuck may be able to be covered by insurance. If that doesn't work, I am writing Oprah, I SWEAR! Well, Sara will write Oprah, I will be too busy laughing at that skinny ass girl with my smile in the bathroom mirror.

I find myself daydreaming about that moment... when 150 is within my reach. Do I want a party? Something private? What would you do at the moment you realize you've attained your life's dream and lost 280 pounds? I'm open to ideas here people.

On a last note... I have 118 to go until goal. I am off to drink some water. I can not express how much your comments and encouragement mean to me. You are my inspiration, thank you for letting me be yours. Loving life.

L'histoire....

Ok, so this is the beginning. Not so long ago... just a few years in fact, I was approximately 430 pounds. Now, the reason I say approximately is because once you reach 400 pounds, a normal doctor's scale can no longer weigh you... so my doctor took his best guess.

Let me try to describe life at over 400 pounds... towels don't fit you, neither do seatbelts, you can't ride roller coasters... you are trapped in a prison of flesh and you can not get out, so you medicate yourself with food.

It's kind of surreal. You have no idea how big you truly are until you see pictures, then of course you fool yourself into believing that you can't really look like that. I got countless tickets because I simply couldn't wear my seatbelt, I was too big. I wore a size 10x pants and couldn't wear anything with buttons because they simply didn't make clothing big enough.

I was never thin. I was teased all through school for being a "fatso." I had a nickname in 3rd grade, it was "Pig." Even my teacher, Ms. Fuller used it. Eventually I just began to write that on all my homework. Name: Pig.

Now, I am not telling you this to depress you! I promise you blogs full of thoughtful humor and ruthless honesty. This is just the beginning of my journey.

Shortly after my daughter was born I began to think that I needed to lose some weigh (ya think!?) ... my doctors told me that I was headed for an early grave and since I come from a LOOONNNGGGG line of super-morbidly obese people, my children would most likely be SMO.

So, I started by switching to diet soda. Now, I was still cramming my face FULL of every bit of trash I could find - hitting the drive through on my way home then ditching the bags in the dumpster behind my supermarket and eating a full dinner. I didn't have the strength to stand for my morning showers, so I sat in the shower. Life was really hell.

My ideal weight is 150 pounds. I started this journey at approximately 430 pounds. Today, I am 269... I have lost 161 pounds. I have 119 pounds to go before I reach my goal (and a crap load of plastic surgery)... so, I am going to write about the remainder of my journey here for you fine folks. I will post my methods, my triumphs, my failures... my embarrassments... I will be an open book for you in hopes that someone somewhere will read this at 400+ pounds and realize that if my fat ass can do this, so can they.