The Firm DVDs Arrived Today!

Thank you, Fed Ex, for delivering on a Saturday!

I immediately popped in The Firm: Power Sculpt, which is a 20-minute toning DVD.

I ****loved**** it!!!

Yes, me, who hates, fears and runs hiding from anything weighty, toning, etc--yes, I loved it!

I'm not in the best shape strength wise, and I did the tape without the bar--to learn the moves and get used to it. The instructor was cheery, the music was--well, elevator type but it fit the workout and was pleasant, and the workout, without the stick, had me pouring sweat immediately.

This is *just* what I was wanting and hoping for. It will take me awhile to build my strength up, so I'll be doing this awhile. I am happy!

I ordered two other The Firm toning DVDs which I have not watched yet. I will build up to those, but for now, I'm happy that I'm going to be able to move in the right direction without fear, allowing myself to be girly, and enjoying it!

~~~
I love my Richard Simmons cardio DVDs, but I have a sneaky suspicion I am going to be checking out The Firm's collection.
~~~

Oh, happy day!

Bootcamp Chili

I got this recipe from the Bootcamp Buddies years ago. You have to double-check the nutritional info on the beans you buy, because it varies by brand. I use Mrs. Grimes brand and it works out correctly points wise.

This has become our staple chili recipe, as we all love it, even when I wasn't doing Weight Watchers. Sometimes I add an extra can of tomatoes.

Chili


Makes 20 1-cup servings
2 POINTS per serving

Ingredients:

6 cans of Chili Beans in Sauce (15 oz can)
2 cans Crushed Tomatoes (28 oz)
12 oz cooked 90% lean ground beef (about 1 lb raw)
2 onions, chopped (2 cups or to taste)
chili powder to taste
salt, pepper to taste


Instructions:


Brown the beef and drain well. (I rinse mine, as it reduces fat content.)
Combine with all the other ingredients and simmer uncovered until the
onions are tender, stirring frequently. (I sometimes throw this in the crockpot and cook all day long.)

Week 29/30 Menus

I didn't post menus last week, but here's the plan for the rest of the week:

Saturday--Twice Baked Potatoes
Sunday-Chili
Monday-Aimee's Potato Soup/Baked Monte Cristo Sandwiches
Tuesday-Meatloaf, Mashed Potatoes, salad
Wednesday-Cheesy Crockpot Chicken, noodles, vegetable
Thursday-Chili
Friday-Hamburgers, baked fries, salad
Saturday-Crockpot Chicken and Stuffing, Yams
Sunday-Crockpot Cheeseburgers, baked fries, salad

The Orange Chicken I posted a couple weeks ago? AWFUL. We all hated it. It was just too sweet.

I bake my potatoes in the crockpot. I scrub them, dry them off, pierce them, wrap them in Reynold's foil wraps--**love** these things, I find them at my dollar store, and throw them in the crockpot. Low, 8-10 hour. High about 4 hours. To us, they taste just like oven-baked.

Dread

Awhile back, we took my son to the orthodontist. Well, he needs surgery to remove a baby tooth, get a chain put around an impacted tooth and a little flap of skin removed.

He freaked. I tried to calm him, but I kind of put this on the back burner, didn't call the specialist and hoped it would all go away without me dealing with it.

I was also afraid of cost, as we only have so much orthodontia insurance, and I questioned whether this would fall under normal dentistry or orthodontia.

Finally, I'll only admit this here, I freaked. Having my son go under? Eeeks. I get scared to go under, but him? It will be a Xanax day when this takes place.

Anyway, yesterday the specialist called here. They said we had been referred, and would like to set up an appointment. Sheesh, so much for me burying my head in the sand. They had an appointment open today, so we're going to head to the big city.

My son is not happy.

I am all about bribes, so I old him we'd go to the Olive Garden after the appointment. I did great last time I was there, but today I'm a bit nervous. I'm going to allow myself one breadstick, the salad with the dressing on the side, and get an entree. My fear is the breadsticks will call my name to calm my nerves.

The good thing is the scale moved this morning--finally. I'm hoping it wasn't a fluke, it shouldn't be as I've remained on plan. I don't want anything to mess that up. So while I'm eyeing those breadsticks, I'll keep that new secret number in my head. That should be motivation enough to stay on target.

So hopefully we can work in some fun in the big city today as well.

Updates

Cellulitis Update:

It's still there. lol The night after I had gone to the doctor, the itching started with a vengeance. Then it started throbbing and -- hard to describe, but it's like a burning sensation. It is better this morning, yet I am very aware of its presence. It doesn't look a whole lot better, but the swelling has gone down.

Body:
I don't know if it's antibiotics, the cellulitis, or what, but I am very puffy. Am planning on drinking a lot more water today.

Movement:
I got a lot of work done around the house yesterday despite the fact that I was walking like I just got off a horse. My son helped me a lot, and I delegated the task of cleaning the living room. Normally he does things like dust, pick up, run errands, etc., but yesterday he did a fantastic job on the living room, including vacuuming, a task he doesn't like due to the noise. Then he mowed the yard. Many hands make light work, and that was a huge sense of relief to me to have one less thing. Plus, I am moving more--I intentionally run my own errands through the house so I am moving my body more. It's the small things, right?

School:
Starts Tuesday. I need to spend about a half hour organizing our books, but other than that, we're ready. I am excited to be in a good routine, but I dread it starting because it is going to effect the way I read and comment on blogs.

Food:
Doing good this week! About to throw some chicken in the crockpot.

Exercise:
I just need to grow up. Period. I'm exhibiting too much of a diva mentality, a spoiled brat mentality. Granted, walking is difficult now due to the cellulitis. However, there are things I could do. I haven't. Will try something today.

I just placed an order for:

The Firm: Power Sculpt with Sculpting Stick
The Firm: Maximum Body Sculpting
The Firm: Total Body Toner

I spent a lot of time figuring out which toning videos to buy this weekend. My husband can't understand why I just won't go use our Bowflex. I've said it before, but it intimidates me. I want to spray paint it pink and make pretty floral slip covers for the bench. I just won't use it. I don't know what my problem is.

So, I'm forking out some money on videos. The first on my list is a very overpriced item. It is a DVD and a weight stick thingamabob. I showed it to my husband and he rolled his eyes. I really liked the preview, but the thing is: the whole workout is only 20 minutes. Not very long, huh? I have been resisting resistance my whole life, but in this journey since February, I've really been bad. So I want to start out short and sweet. That will get me going, and start to build myself up. If I don't do it that way, the odds are I'll remain a spoiled brat and not work my body. The other two videos I bought are for once I have my confidence up. I really like the looks of The Firm videos and am excited to try them. Of course for my cardio, I'll stick with my beloved Richard Simmons and walking. Maybe some day I'll buy one of the mixed The Frim videos. For now, I'm good.

In My Head:
I'm in a good place today. I was a bit weepy yesterday, but I've made my peace. I am, however, aware of the fact that my post about girdles was full of judgment, which I reflected on while thinking of Russ and judgment. Choosing heavier clerks over skinny? Whoa, Nellie, I have some reverse prejudice going on there. I hadn't realized it until I read over my post. I worry about judgment about my size, but yet I'm doing the same thing. Will get that in check and fast!

Otherwise, all's well!

I Stayed Up Late on Purpose...

...so I could wait for Sean's post! He did it! (I knew he would!) Congratulations, Sean, for your awesome 209-pound loss and reaching that monumental moment, getting below 300.

I just get so excited when my blogging friends reach fantastic milestones! It just makes me so happy!

Now I'll sleep well. lol

Death

I found out this morning a cousin of mine died this weekend of brain cancer.

He had just turned 69. He was the oldest cousin in the family, I am the youngest. My mom was 6 when he was born, so they were like siblings. Except she hated him. lol When he grew up, he went to work for the railroad with my dad. My dad hated him, too.

The first time I remember meeting him was when my dad took me on a train ride from Cheyenne to Laramie. We ran into him at the depot. He was the scariest-looking man I had met up to that point in my life. Dad introduced us, told me that he was my cousin, and I was horrified.

Two summers ago, dad and I were talking about him. He told me one time at the club where the railroaders stayed overnight on their runs, this cousin got pissed and drunk, pulled out his hand gun, and shot a toilet. No one was hurt and he got in big trouble. Because no one was hurt, I can say that as a then 42-year-old adult, I saw humor in it. Yes, I laughed. Laughing at him, not with him.

This cousin was the black sheep of the family. Everyone had issues with him. Everyone. So I judged a book by the cover, and accepted my parents' and family's view.

I was wrong.

Nine years ago, I was working hard at genealogy. I was stuck on my mom's side of the family. I knew that my other cousin, the black sheep's much younger sister, would be able to help me. I called her. We hadn't talked since 1986. When my grandma died, the family dissolved, and my mom never spoke to these two cousins again. She was cold, distant yet friendly at the same time. It was obvious she didn't want a relationship. She also had no interest in family history, didn't have answers. She shared with me that she only spoke to her brother once a year at Christmas.
That was that.

Imagine my surprise when two days after talking to her, my phone rang. It was the black sheep cousin. She called him to tell him I was very into our family history. He called me because he had something to give me. His kids were not interested in genealogy whatsoever. He had two trunks full of photos, bibles, silverware, a curling iron, baby shoes, clothes -- things dating back for certain to 1879, but more than likely well beyond that. It was of extreme importance that he give this stuff to someone that CARED. And that was me. I know every single family member on that side of the family going back five to seven generations. One line I am well versed with the family 14 generations back.

I was thrilled and told him I'd get back to him. He lived in Colorado, I lived in Minnesota, and my son was in kindergarten, I drove a small Subaru at the time and had to figure out a way to get the trunks here.

Well, imagine my surprise when one morning, three days later, my doorbell rang. He got in his truck, drove two days up here to bring me the trunks. We sat and talked all day long. I asked a million questions, he answered. He told me story after story--some not so good, some hilarious, some sad. We went through everything in the trunks. I know I had tears down my face many times that day. He took us to dinner and insisted on paying. He did not want to impose and stay with us and insisted on a motel.

He was kind. He was good. He was judged. I felt awful for accepting someone else's history and perception. Sure, I do know that he had troubles, I have the newspaper articles. Yet I saw something in him that I don't know that the rest of my family did. I know his mother was awful, and it's amazing he survived his childhood. He was horribly abused. People were so busy being hateful toward him, expecting perfection from him, that they could not see what a wonderful, good heart he had.

He was a gruff man. He was not someone you would want to mess with. He stood out in our family. Underneath it all, he had a very loving spirit. We shared a bond that he didn't share with anyone else in our family: A love of our history, a true compassion for our ancestors. We really connected.

My dad was rather perplexed that I liked him. He told me lots of stories to set me straight. I saw beyond that. I saw there was good in him.

We talked about once every two years after that. I sent him all my research, showing where we came from in Germany. I shared everything I had. When he was visiting, I was showing him a couple pictures my mother had given to me, and amongst them was a photo of one of his former wives (he had a lot) and his daughter. When he saw that, a tear ran down his face. He actually asked me if he could have that photo. He had no contact with the ex-wife or daughter, I could clearly see he had regret and love. He had only a memory. Of course I gave him the photo.

So when I found out he died, I cried.

This man gave to me the greatest gift I have ever received in my life. I do not know that anything can ever be better than what he gave to me or have more meaning. The trunks, the possessions, the photos--oh, to have faces to put with names. Many of the photos have been framed and are proudly hanging on my walls. All that plus the stories, the laughter, the tears--that bond that was amazing. We got each other.

I sent the nicest flower arrangement I could (would) afford. Dang, flowers are expensive. I did not call my siblings to go in together. This had to be from me, my husband and son. He was kind to all of us. My husband liked him, my son, who was very young, remembers him and liked him.

The flowers were for him, not his family. I wanted a piece of me to be there as he was lowered into the ground, I wanted to touch him with beauty. I hope his family enjoys them as well--usually I buy for family. These, though, were for him.

When I got off the phone with the florist, I spoke out loud:

Russ, these flowers are from me, hubby and son. They are also from my mom and dad, who I know are in a place where they are over their grudges and can see clearly. They are from grandmother and granddad, who did love you. They are from Great Grandma and Grandpa S, who loved you. The grandparents, who you loved with all your heart. I have photos of them with you, I see the love. This is from all of us.

Corny, but I'm very serious. He was the only person on the face of this earth that would truly get and appreciate why I said what I said. After that, my son and I held our own memorial service by going through the trunks together.

Russ gave me the greatest tangible gift I could ever receive. He also gave me a great mental gift as well: Never judge a book by its cover.

Rest in peace, Russ.

I Bought a Girdle

Yesterday when I was reading blogs, I laughed out loud when I read Tena's blog. She wrote a post titled It's Still a Girdle. Amen sister, call it what it is!

I bought myself one pair of pants and four new tops along with my pajama bottoms. The shirts were all size 18/20. Gee, the last time I was in that size range, I don't remember clothing sizes being slashed like that. I was thrilled to buy a top with the number 18 on it. My pants were size 20.

The only problem was that I could not button the last button--the part around my spare tire. I didn't want to buy bigger-sized shirts as I know I'm shrinking, so I bought them all anyway.

When we walked into JCPenney, I headed for the lingerie section. I carefully scouted out a clerk that was older and more my size. The cute skinny clerk came up to me and asked if she could help me as I was making a bee-line to the clerk I wanted, so I said thanks, I'm just looking. It wasn't a lie because I was just looking for a clerk I'd feel comfortable with.

I then went up to the "like me" clerk and she was very friendly and helpful. I explained I was in the process of losing weight, that I had just bought four shirts but couldn't button the last button--or could button it, but was afraid it would pop. I was about to ask for the "girdle" section when she beat me to it. She said, "You need a cincher."

She took me to the cinchers. Oh my. I had no idea what a cincher was. I looked at the thing, with a million hooks like bra hooks, and thought: NO WAY. The largest size she had was a 2X. I knew that wouldn't work, as that area is bigger and out of proportion to the rest of me. I was right, it did not work. I also asked her about Spanx, as I've read a lot about them.

JCPenney's carries Flexees, which are like Spanx. She handed me an XL, and I asked if she had a 2X. She did. I tried both. I could wear the XL, but it was so tight I feared I wouldn't be able to breathe and worse, I feared I would split the seams on the thing. The 2X was snug and believe it or not, it actually felt good on me.

I hope that JCPenney's did not have security people watching me try on clothes. I would have had them rolling with laughter. When I had the 2X Flexees on, I couldn't see that it cinched me in. I would focus on my gut, line it up with the crack in the door in my line of sight, then I'd pull it down fast so I could see a difference. I did it about 10 times. Kind of like a before/after of someone sucking their gut in. Even I was laughing at myself. I wasn't sure, couldn't see a difference, but I bought it anyway.

So as Tena stated, call it what you will: Spanx, supportive undergarment, whatever, it's still a flippin' girdle. Thankfully it's not the rubbery, weird smelling version that my skinny mother wore in the late 60s.

When we got home, I tried on all my clothes for hubby. The first thing I did was put on my Flexees, then my pants, and then the shirts. Guess what? It worked! It cinched me just enough to get that last button buttoned.

I debated posting this. Who in their right mind wants to admit they bought a girdle? The thing is, I get so much help reading others' blogs, that maybe someone else out there has the same last-button problem that I did. The garment actually felt good. Who woulda thunk it?

~~~

In that department, I also had a NSV. As I was walking into the changing room to try these things on, an older clerk, in front of customers!!!, said, "Oh, you're trying on our torture devices." I was not pleased that she did that. It was embarrassing enough that I was doing it, but I didn't need it announced. I had folded the things up to try to get in there discretely. So I turned the situation around.

I turned to her and said, "Yes, I am. You see, I have lost almost 45 pounds and I bought some new clothes today. I fit into a size 18/20 but my tummy isn't catching up with the rest of my body and I couldn't button the bottom button. So instead of buying clothing too big for me, and knowing I am going to continue to lose weight, I thought I might try these Spanx."

How's that for bringing a little glory to myself? I could have fumed, turned beet red, and sulked. I could have said nothing. Instead, I celebrated my victory. The clerk got very excited! She congratulated me. I noticed the customers she was helping smiled. (Two middle-aged women like me, but thinner.) She looked me up and down and then said: I want to know how you're doing it, because you are firm! You look good. I smiled, said Weight Watchers, and went into the dressing room.

She may have been placating me, I don't know. My husband told me that I do look pretty firm--more so than I did at my highest. Instead of getting upset--well, it did upset me that she said that out loud--I handled the situation. Six months ago that would have had me running down the mall to find the nearest cinnamon roll I could find. Monday, I was assertive and stood up for myself, and did it in a nice manner.

Be Careful What You Ask For

Monday when we were shopping for husband's new wardrobe, I did a little shopping for myself, too. We were at Kohl's, and I walked around the active wear section. I wanted some workout pants, specifically capri style. I was looking for a 2XLG, because of my big belly.

Zip, zilch, nada. The sizes went up to XL.

So I purchased five pair of pajama pant bottoms, capri style, which were on sale for $5 apiece. I got two 2XL and three XLs. That should do me for awhile.

As the clerk started ringing me up, she asked, "Did you find everything you were looking for?" I said, "Well, now that you ask, no, I did not. People my size exercise, too. There was nothing in your active wear section in my size." She asked what size I wanted, I stated a 2XL, and then she did it.

The clerk turned to another gal who was miles away (two sections over) and hollered out: Do we have any plus size active wear? Size 2XL? Oh, for the love of Pete, I wished the earth would open up right then and swallow me. There were a lot of people around. Granted, if you look at me, you know I'm plus size. But sheesh, did she have to announce it to the whole flippin' store? The gal hollered back, "Yes, X brand (I forget) carries plus size.

So the gal came and got me and we walked through that department together. Was she ever shocked that there really wasn't any plus sized stuff. She kept pulling out XL stuff. Nope, not quite there yet. Then she told me that I could order the stuff online. I said the problem with that is that I can't try it on, and clothes sizes run differently, pants are cut differently, and it's really best to try things online. I then told her it was really unfair--not her fault, but it stinks. She agreed, and told me that she has that problem with the junior department, too, as they make and sell plus sized junior stuff online, but not in the store.

So I bought my pajama bottoms, didn't tell them what they were for, and left. Thank God I exercise at home!

I did also look at JCPenney and another store that carried plus size, but no active wear was to be found in my size.

So we're supposed to work out, eat healthy and lose weight, but yet we can't go into a store and by clothes to work out in until we've done all the hard work and lost the weight. Hmmm.

Guess what else the clerk told me? They used to carry plus sized active wear, but it didn't sell. I don't know if she was telling me the truth, trying to placate me or what.

Oh well. The good news is that I tried all the capri pajama pants on and every single pair fit, even the three XLs. I can wear them all now--in fact, I have a pair on right now. How cool is that? Yet, it's not the same as pants. I have found pajama bottoms are cut looser and bigger than pants. I'm still excited that the XLs fit.

I had a difficult time shopping in that I didn't know what sizes to try on. I ended up buying one size of 20 pants and four shirts which were all marked 18/20. That sure beats the size 24 I started out with!

I cannot wait until I can fit into capri exercise pants. I'd like the French terry pants. I'd like some yoga pants. Shoot, I'd like anything other than the cheap sweatpants I'm used to from Wal-mart. At least I could always find those and they always fit.

I will think twice before telling a clerk I didn't find what I was looking for again!

I Can't Exercise Because...

I was diagnosed today with cellulitis. Where? My inner thigh.

What the h-e-double-toothpick is it with injuries on my inner thigh? In May I had a boil on my inner thigh that brought my great exercise streak to a grinding halt.

The antibiotics I was given, I was told, will take a few days to heal things up.

I had a series of bites in a circular pattern last week. I've been watching it, keeping the area clean, and hoping it would heal. Yesterday it appeared as if the bites turned into blood blisters. This morning, the entire area swelled up and turned pink (they said red, but it looks pink to me.) It also sprouted a leg. A red, raised line shot out about three inches.

I hate to whine so much. It's just a PITA, nothing major, but it isn't pleasant to walk. Or move. Clothing rubs on it and makes it uncomfortable.

A couple days and I should be all healed up.

With me? It's always something.

About That Weigh In This Morning...

TMI ahead, I'm talking about poop. Quit reading if you find that crass.

This morning, I woke up late, went potty, weighed, poured a cup of coffee and hubby came home. We visited while I drank my coffee. I told him I was up a pound.

Our discussion:

Hubby: Have you pooped yet?
Me: No.
Hubby: Do you normally poop before you weigh in or after?
Me: I normally do No. 1 & 2 before hopping on the scale.
Hubby: Go do your business then hop on the scale again. That will be your true reading. Be consistent.

I did. Ahem. The scale read 238. Down a pound from the earlier weigh in.

I'm still leaving the gain on the side bar. I didn't have time to post this as I showered and we headed out the door. It's been on my mind all day. Did I gain or did I stay the same?

My conclusion: It doesn't matter! If I was to the point where it was in the back of my mind all day, I'm making way too much out of it. It's just a number and in the scheme of my journey, it means nothing.

I do know this: My dad is up in heaven laughing his a$$ off. And if he could speak, this is what he would say: I always knew you were full of shit.

Sorry for being so crass, but sometimes I'm like that. And my dad really would have said that had I actually told him about it--but I probably wouldn't have told him. lol
~~~~~~
We had a great day today, and I'll post some NSVs and some pictures later tonight or tomorrow!

Monday Morning Weigh In

Well, it was bound to happen. I'm not happy about it, but it's just a number. 239. Up 1 pound. My first gain.

The thing is? I didn't cheat. I didn't exercise, but I didn't cheat on food.

I'm okay with it--well, as okay as anyone can be.

So I think the lack of exercise this month has caught up with me. As I wrote yesterday in my Honeymoon is Over post, I knew this was coming, the scale had not been kind all week. I did my evaluating yesterday, I know what I need to do. I need to move my body.

I need to add, my waist has grown. It was at 40, it is now 42. Imagine that. It proves to me how very important exercise is. I was quite shocked last night when I measured. Actually, quite saddened.

So, all is good--I'm in a good mental place, I have new goals, refreshed thinking and it's time to hit it hard. I had hoped I would not have a gain on this journey. I was hoping for perfection. Perfection is a bad thing, and I have to remind myself of that. My inaction gave me the reminder.

I think I really needed this lesson today to drive home the importance of exercise. Growing waist, a gain? Yeah, lesson learned!!!

~~~

On a different note, my husband came home from work a few minutes ago. It seems that corporate has decided all the engineers need to dress like engineers. Since he has worked here, they have always been able to wear jeans to work. Wouldn't you know, he just bought several brand-new pair of jeans. Aaack. Now they'll all be wearing dockers and button down shirts. All the engineers were groaning because no one's clothes fit them anymore. My husband only has one or two pair at most of casual dress pants. So we're hitting the big city today, going clothes shopping. He wears big and tall because he's 6'5". We usually pay through the nose for the few extra inches in pants that he needs. I'm hoping TJ Maxx and Kohl's will be kind to us money wise and yield some nice clothes. Personally, I worry about the extra laundry. Will I have to, gasp, iron? I haven't ironed clothing in years!

Ugh. What a day. However, counting my blessings: I am still no longer morbidly obese. My husband has a job he loves. I'm not freaked out to the point I feel a binge coming on, but we will hit Taco Bell today for lunch. I'm healthier than I have been in years, I'm happy, and I'm re-charged.

Onward. I will do this!

The Honeymoon is Over

Weight loss is like marriage, it goes through certain stages. At first it's exciting, just like the honeymoon stage of marriage. You're in love, you've chosen a weight loss program that is sensible, you're eating better, the scale is showing you great numbers--it's the center of your life. As time moves on, the excitement wanes, it becomes ordinary and commonplace. Then you go through an adjustment. With time, it all settles and evens out, and you enjoy your weight loss journey and maintenance for life. There will always be ups and downs, but it works.

There are times you are annoyed as hell. Like marriage, when you discover your spouse isn't perfect like you once suspected, you discover that your weight loss program isn't perfect, either. It doesn't meet your moods, it cannot coexist with your desire to de-stress by eating a cheesecake or brownies or movie theater popcorn. Yet like marriage, you stick with it. Sometimes you give it your all, sometimes you just go through the motions.

Like marriage, it's difficult to make it work, but like a marriage, it's worth it.

So in my journey, I've recently gone through that shift from honeymoon to commonplace. The excitement is gone, the drudgery is on. (Not that marriage is drudgery, but the weight loss is--or can be.) I knew this day would come. I was prepared for it. It's now that I need to be more determined than ever. Game on.

I'm a daily weigher. I don't do it to see instant results, I do it to remain mindful. The times in my life when I did not weigh second thing every morning, I would eat whatever and gain. The times in my life when I did weigh daily, my weight and health were always in my mind and I did better. It helps me figure out what foods overload my body with water. It helps me watch my patterns that my body has. This past week the scale has not been kind, even though I have stayed within point range. I can't help but wonder if my stinking thinking (honeymoon is over) has effected that scale. The mind is a powerful thing. I do not get stressed out over numbers, as it is only one way of measuring success. If I stressed about the scale, I wouldn't weigh daily.

I have lost site of some very important things on this journey:

cardio
strength training
mini-goals to improve my eating

My journey has not been one about being sexy, getting skinny, etc. My journey has been about health all along. When I started in February, I thought I was dying. I really believed I was. I thought I had abused my body so much that I wouldn't be able to fix it. I was convinced I had diabetes, that my borderline high blood pressure would no longer be borderline. I knew I had had problems with high triglycerides for years. I couldn't move, bend, walk into a store without getting winded. Getting up in the morning was exhausting. I always hurt and I was always tired. I was in pain. My body, mind and spirit all were in pain.

I need to remember those things. I'm not going back. When the honeymoon is over, it's time to re-evaluate. It's time to remember why one started. I was miserable. I am no longer miserable, but I could sure be better than where I am--that's the whole point of the journey.

I have made great strides these last six months. I've lost 44.5 pounds, I've done a tremendous amount of work on my mental status. I've worked things out, boosted my confidence, and stepped life up a notch.

It's time to move forward. While the excitement is gone, that "Wow, I'm losing, I think can do this" is in the past, it needs to change to "Slow and steady wins the race, I will succeed." My next six months I really need to focus on making my body stronger. I need to focus on that which I have struggled with the most: exercise.

If I can change my food, which was difficult, surely I can develop an exercise program for me. Maybe the honeymoon phase will come back, maybe not. Yet, I am determined. I have beat diabetes, high blood pressure. I'm still on triglyceride meds. My lipid panel was not that great in June. Exercise will help that tremendously. I can do this. I need to strengthen my heart, improve my blood work. I need to find what works for me.

Bottom line: While the honeymoon is over, I have extreme determination to continue to get better. I want health--good health. No, great health.

I can do it.