Weigh-In No. 1 (Again)

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I think my arms might be too dead to type this. I just had my butt kicked by a lady old enough to be my mother. That class wiped me out, but I’m glad I pushed past my unwillingness, and didn’t skip the gym. So…

Although I will not be numbers-driven, there is no discounting the reality that frequent weigh-ins are a good indicator of progress. I will weigh in once a week. My ‘plan’ is to lose 1% of my weight each week. That might not always be the case, and that’s fine, but I think it is a healthy and modest rate.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, my last recorded weight was 283. I think I had lost some by that point, so it is safe to assume I was somewhere close to my heaviest recorded weight (291) before then. Anyway…

280 (04/05/15)

So, that’s 1% down. I’m not as happy about the number as I am about the fact that I’ve been making better choices, and exercising more control over what I eat. I’ve even been going to the gym more than once a week. 🙂

Perhaps my biggest lesson so far has been that consistency is more important than perfection. I will mess up, I will eat what I shouldn’t, and there will be days when I just can’t be bothered, but that doesn’t mean I should quit. I’m in this for my health, for my life. Giving up is no longer an option.

Image source: greatmindsthinkfit.com

Weight Loss Mystery Solved…Part 1

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Last week was such a pensive time, and I think I’ve made a breakthrough. Somehow, I understand why I’ve never been able to embrace weight loss as a separate entity, why I’ve never felt whatever it is that compels people to try to lose weight. Of course, I see the need for weight loss, as part of a commitment to a healthier lifestyle, but that doesn’t change my aversion. So, my epiphany, if you will…

No matter how strong you are, even if you think you’re unaffected by things people say, you build resistance. I’ve had perfect strangers ask me if I didn’t see I was too fat (because, apparently, I don’t have either working eyes or a mirror), had people who hadn’t seen me in a long time not even greet me properly, but make a comment about my size. I won’t go into how the average person becomes a nutritionist or something–all the lovely ‘concerned’ questions about my health. I took it all in stride, often laughed and responded politely to people who were downright obnoxious, but I can no longer deny its impact.

I’ve absorbed, without realising it, so much of the negativity aimed at me because of my size. I’ve never hated myself or my body, but I think I transitioned into no longer actively loving myself, as if I didn’t have that right, simply because I had let myself go. Even the love I had for myself became ‘in spite of’, as if I had to defend my right to love myself–or not hate myself.

People have suggested something must be fundamentally wrong with me, just by looking at me. In the same breath, I knew being fat didn’t make me less of a person, or unworthy of love. Because of that, I feel the need to protect myself…to protect my fat self.

Trying to lose weight feels like giving in to everyone who has made my size feel unacceptable…to the random people on sidewalks who told me I should stop eating, to family members who’ve reduced my portions or flat-out told me I shouldn’t eat something (things they didn’t do for others), to those who have celebrated my smaller self as if accidentally (or deliberately) losing weight made me a better person–as if I would finally be worthy of my spot on the planet if I lose enough weight. I oppose that idea so strongly that trying to lose weight feels like a betrayal of my very self.

Now that I understand this, I need to find a way to include weight loss in my health and fitness journey, without having it as the point of my journey. Weight loss will be the consequence of my changing lifestyle, not the cause of it. It will give me a sense of how my changes work, how my body responds to those changes, but I will not work for a number. I refuse to be a slave to the scale, or shackle myself to the idea that my weight and worth have any relationship, especially that of inverse proportion. Weight loss, on this journey, will be only a guide, not a goal.

I may still struggle with my aversion to weight loss, and while people may assume I’m working towards losing weight, and may even applaud me for it, I have to remember my goals–health, fitness, and discipline. I am not a thin girl trapped in a fat girl’s body. My body is not a prison, and I refuse to try to escape from it. I will, as I am changing, transform it…see its potential for strength, continue to appreciate its beauty, at every size.

This is my body, and I love it. I am fat, and I love myself. Fat is not my identity, and rooting my identity there, embracing fat as who I am, is no less than destructive than those who would see me as unworthy because of my weight.

I am fat, and I love myself…enough to change.

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Quick Update


There’s a part of me that wants to delay this until I have better news to impart, but I promised to be honest…with you guys and with myself.

This is still difficult. I’m generally eating better than I have in a long time, I’ve lost a few pounds, and I’ve somewhat improved my gym attendance, but this still does not feel real. I feel as if I am not owning this journey…and I’m not sure how to. I’ve watched so many before-and-after weight loss videos, and all those people were motivated to lose weight. I’m not. Yes, I want to get healthy, but how do I find the drive to go against my fear of losing weight? I’m even beginning to see that that fear goes so much deeper than I think. If losing weight is part of improving my health, and I’m doing it through proper nutrition and exercise, doesn’t that make it a good thing? Why am I afraid of a good thing?

That fear is so toxic. It is what drives me to sabotage myself every time I start to change, and not just as it relates to my health. I know I don’t need to want to do this in order for it to get done, but I have to face the power of my lack of inclination. I really don’t know how this will turn out, but I can’t just allow it to be pushed aside. I need to do this, fear or no fear.

On the plus side, I’m beginning to see some of my patterns of sabotage, see where I’ve developed unhealthy relationships with food. I’m paying attention to what triggers me to tell myself to skip the gym, as I did last week…and today. This has been a long road, and I am far from perfect, but if I’m understanding myself better, it’s all worth it.

What If I Don’t Want To Lose Weight?


Two things hit me last week: I started this blog almost 2 years ago, and I’m currently the same weight I was the first week I recorded weight loss here–283 pounds.

It’s almost as if nothing has changed in the 8 months since my last post, but so much has. I’ve moved away from home, slight changes to my routine and eating habits caused me to lose a bit of weight since (hence the 283), and I could go on, but there’s one thing that has really hit me: I don’t want to lose weight.

Do I need to lose weight? Definitely. Do I see the health risks, imminent and otherwise? For sure. Am I lazy and unmotivated? No. I do want to be healthy, fit, strong, able to walk to my third-floor room without getting out of breath, and those other boring, everyday things most people at a healthy weight don’t have to worry about. But, I can’t honestly say I hold weight loss as a goal, or have a desire to be smaller. My body isn’t a prison. I’m not dying to wear smaller clothes, be attractive, go on amusement park rides, or any of those other things you come across in these before-and-after stories. Being smaller does not appeal to me, and I think the idea of such a drastic change scares me more than I usually care to admit.

I’m not afraid of working out, and I know I’m strong, with the potential to be even stronger. Fitness appeals to me, even though I still hate cardio. I’ve joined the gym yet again, but I still haven’t voluntarily gone for a workout–been almost a month since I signed up. I think I can’t get past the idea that, in order to get the things I want, it’ll mean the one thing I don’t want: weight loss.

Maybe I’m worried people will look at me, and assume I want to lose weight. Maybe I’m afraid to fail, or concerned that people will wonder why someone my size isn’t working with a trainer. Maybe those things don’t even matter to me, and I’m just trying to legitimise my folly. Whatever the case, I need to make peace with the part of me that is content to hide behind fat. If there were a way to achieve my fitness goals, and somehow not get smaller, I’d be in. But, there isn’t…so, maybe I should just shut up and go to the gym. Or, maybe I should acknowledge that I’m stronger than I think, because I haven’t given in to the idea that being fat deems me worthless; neither am I in the camp of those who think loving oneself means not needing to change. (Don’t think I’ve ever used the word ‘maybe’ so many times in a single paragraph before.)

This is who I am, who I’ve been for as long as I can remember. Maybe I can’t picture myself smaller, because I’ve never had to. I know losing weight doesn’t have to mean losing who I am, because I am more than my size, but that knowledge isn’t helping. Fat may be all I’ve known, but it doesn’t get to be who I am. Not now, when I’m finally in a position to embrace change, even if I don’t want to.

I honestly wish I could say changing my lifestyle is going to be the hardest part of this journey. I’ve been down this road enough times to know what works for me. I just need to follow through, and not let fear hold me back. Honestly, I think my greatest fear is that this just might work, that I might actually stick to something. Guess we’ll see.


Image source: dietmdhawaii.com

The Same Lesson


In two months, I could weigh 300 pounds.

Frankly, that is not as scary as it should be, but it is eye-opening. I started going to the gym in February, and I made progress. I overcame my fear of the treadmill, and I even ran. To top it off, I inspired my sister (who is nowhere near my size…and actually works out) to run. Ooh, and did I mention all those reps I did with a 30-pound bar, and how I felt as if I had found my happy place (hate cardio, LOVE strength training)? Sounds like the start of something beautiful, but then I kicked in.

I decided it was best, for a number of reasons, to stop going to the gym, and continue working out at home. That wasn’t as bad a plan as it sounds, but the gym doesn’t require the one thing working out at home does–choice. It recently hit me, yet again, that I’ve always improved my health or lost weight by accident, by default, or for some reason that made me feel as if I had no choice. I’ve never really had to CHOOSE to get healthy, even though I’ve allegedly committed to it several times. To be honest, the only reason I started the gym was that I didn’t want to fail a medical I would do a couple months later. Having failed at improving my health, but passed that medical, I now have no ‘reason’ to get healthy–but for my own good.

When it comes down to it, that’s why this is so hard. If I had to get healthy to benefit someone else, I would have done it ages ago. If I cared, I wouldn’t have let fear trap me into returning to my bad habits after losing a significant amount of weight five or six years ago…without even trying. If, at that point, I had chosen to focus on my health, I could have been healthy for the past five years, rather than having no guarantee of either health or another five years. But, this is what I do. Something good starts to happen, and I sabotage myself.

So, I don’t really have a plan now. Yes, seeing the scale in the 290s again was scary, but that won’t do it. I just have to keep making those little choices, as I’ve been trying to do for the past couple days. I have to choose to eat healthy food, say no to eating what I know is bad for me. I have to get moving. Working out works for me, and I can’t deny that…so I need to literally get up off my ass and do something…while I still can.

No clue how or if this is going to work, but I’ve decided to cut out the extremism I’m prone to. I want to make little choices I can keep making for the rest of my life, even though doing that will be hard at first. I guess, in a sense, I’m starting over (again!), but that’s okay. I’m not in this to be a superstar. I’m here to learn, even if it’s the same lesson.

I Dare…Again

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When I blogged this in November, I was scared, but definitely more confident about success than I am now. This is my journey, and owning it is hard. It’s not going so well, but I can’t keep giving up. That’s no way to live. The only words I have are those already expressed…and I need the reminder. Badly.


November 6, 2013


So, my last post seemed to be right…there will always be something else. Another hectic month, but I’m back.

I turned 28 recently, and I did something revolutionary (by my standards, anyway). I set 28 goals for the coming year. Seven of those goals are health-related. I was talking to a friend last week, pretty much filling her in on life and stuff, and I mentioned that this health thing is something I want to take seriously, but it is so terrifying. She said the coolest thing: “Dare to live, Lori.”

So, I dare.

I dare to believe I can do this…that my goal of losing 100 pounds in one year is achievable, by God’s grace, and if I make the choices I know are within reach. I mean, an average of basically two pounds a week should not be that hard. One of the things I wanted to do was to make sure I wasn’t setting goals that were unlikely to be achieved. Based on my current weight, success means losing an average of close to 1% of my weight each week. If I can’t do that, I have bigger problems than I thought.

I dare to fight, even when that means learning how to. I’m so good at just accepting whatever comes my way. I’m honest and realistic, but I sometimes use that as a crutch…as if admitting I have a problem means I don’t need to work on it. This won’t be easy. So much bigger than weight loss and numbers, this is about getting my life back.

I dare to be weak, because not facing weakness is a surefire way to have it beat you. For too long, I’ve let weakness overcome me, as if I could handle it myself. If it means asking for help, I’ll do it. If it means learning to be vulnerable, I’ll…I’ll work on that one.

I dare to be strong. I’m physically strong, and as I develop discipline, I’ll become strong in other ways. After two months at the gym when I was with my sister last year, I know I can take the pain. The muscles I came home with proved that. It’s so weird for me to even think this, but I am strong. I can’t keep living as if I was meant to be a victim, a casualty of circumstance.

I dare to accept that failure will come. There is no perfect path. I will mess up, I will fall, I will fail. Pretending otherwise will just make it more likely I’ll give up when it happens. But, here’s the best part: I don’t have to be perfect. I just need to do this, and keep doing it.

I dare to share. I’ve spent so much of life in hiding, even from myself. So, I’m committing to being honest on this journey, whether it’s going great or not…even when it’s not going.

I dare to be excited. I never do that. This is going to be all kinds of new and scary…and ugly. But, it’s different. It’s something other than going from day to day with no aim or destination in mind. Man, I should be excited. 😀

I dare to live.

Owning It…Again

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Yes, yes, I’m alive. 🙂

The past four months have been the most hectic I’ve had in a long time. I learned something, though–I can’t keep expecting my life to slow down enough for me to not have to tryDiscipline is definitely not one of my strong points, and I’ve taken the ready excuse of “when this is over”. What if it never ends? What if new things, more responsibilities just keep popping up? Am I going to delay working on my health for the rest of my life? Will there even be a “rest of my life” at that rate?

I have to own this…have to own me. Weight loss has never been something I’ve really wanted to do. I can see that it needs to be done, but outside of wardrobe-related moments of frustration, being fat works for me. Of course, I’m logical enough to know of the associated health risks, but I’m not sure I care…enough, that is.

Frankly, I’m terrified of what taking this step could mean. I’ve never been small. Smaller than I am now? Sure, but not small enough to be considered anywhere near average size. I can’t separate improving my health from losing weight, and that makes this change just about the scariest thing I’ve come across in my life. I’ll be different. What if I don’t recognise this new person? What if I don’t like her? Then again, maybe I’ll still be me…just smaller. I just…don’t know.

I guess it’s way past time to grow up and face my fears, to own who I am…who I’ve made myself. Somehow, I almost wish working out were going to be the hardest part of this…I could definitely live with that. This changing stuff, man. So hard. So, so hard.

But, it’s time to fight, even though I’ll have to learn how…one breath at a time.

Weigh-In No More



So, my epic scale? Broken…yay, little people at my house. One of the wires went bye-bye. Awesome stuff.

Anyway, I got over it rather quickly. I have another scale, but it’s not as cute…and I don’t trust it for weights as great as mine. I’ll start using it again in a couple months, I reckon.

Until then, what I really need to do is get serious about my workouts again. Sure, I get some exercise in here and there, but I’ve lost that discipline and structure I had for a bit recently. I doubt I’ll stop being busy anywhere in the near future, so I can’t keep putting this off for a tomorrow that may never come.

Did I mention my trusty workout sneakers also went bye-bye? Fun stuff, man. As soon as I get that sorted out, I’ll have better news for you guys. In the meantime, though, I’m getting more dancing done, so that has to count for something. Plus, it’s fun…:D

This isn’t easy, though…and I’m not talking about working out. It’s just so bloody difficult to do something just for me. Still not giving up. One day, I’ll look back on these posts, and I’ll smile because I actually fought for something.

For today, though, I need to go organise my schedule for the coming week…less likely anything will take me by surprise. 30 minutes of workout time shouldn’t be so hard to come by.

Happy Weekend, lovely people.


Thank You!


When I started this blog a few months ago, I had no intention to be inspirational…or any of those cute things a blog is supposed to be. In fact, I was convinced it would be pretty lame, so no one would care.

Well, thank you, all you lovely people who follow my blog. I was so shocked to see that I had reached 50! I’m not easily motivated, but you guys make me want to do better…to have good news for you. More than anything, though, I want to embrace life, and that experience is enriched by having people to share it with.

I’m so grateful for this lovely community. I really think I’d have given up ages ago, if not for the support you guys give. You’re even more awesome than I could have imagined.

Blessings to each of you!


Weigh-In No. 12…and 13…and 14…


Yes, I’m alive. 😀

286 (08/08/13)

287 (15/06/13)

287 (22/06/13)


fitness, motivation, workout


So, the past few weeks? Pretty crazy…I haven’t been working out. I feel as if I’ve been so busy, yet I can’t exactly see what I’ve accomplished. This is what I do, though…I start something, and then I stop…but, I’m not stopping for good this time. Is change super hard? Yes!

Like, this is so much bigger than a clothing size or a number on the scale. This is the question of whether I’ll ever learn to fight…and keep fighting to be who I was made to be. (No, I don’t mean skinny. Ugh…) I almost wish losing weight was the hardest thing I have to do. I’ve done it before, and it’s not that hard for me, especially when I don’t have to do it on purpose. I think it’s the deliberate parts of this that scare me.

Anyway, I’ll blog more over the next few days, since things seem to be settling down. Now, to go catch up on what has been happening in the lives of the lovely and inspirational people whose blogs I follow. 😀


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