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Independence Day

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It’s been over 200 years since America declared its independence from their distant British ruler. Over two centuries since America and its colonies established itself as a force to be reckoned with on a global scale. For 237 years, the United States has stood for freedom, for acceptance, and for refuge for those suffering.

Suffering from persecution, prejudice, or the restriction of their basic human rights? You’ve found sanctuary here.

It seems fitting, then, that I found myself reflecting on my personal struggles with weight and body image during the festivities of the 4th of July celebration.

For years, I’ve been a slave to the scale.

You can't see it, but imagine a ball and chain locking me to this damn thing.

You can’t see it, but imagine a ball and chain locking me to this damn thing.

I’ve allowed it to dictate my mood, control even my most basic decisions, and play the role of judge and jury over the value of my life.

I’ve talked about it here extensively in the past, but the scale in my bathroom is both one of my most prized possessions – as well as one of the most malignant items in my house.

A good weigh-in means a day of happiness, of celebration, of pride.

A bad weigh-in means a day of guilt, of self-inflicted punishment, of shame.

You know, I’m getting really tired of the oppressive dictatorship of my scale.

While I can’t directly compare it to the British control over the American colonies, I can relate to the feeling that it’s not quite FAIR that this scale – which is not involved in my exercise, my diet, or any other element of my health – is able to have so much control over me. Sort of feels like taxation without representation, you know?

That’s just not right.

So, with that thought in mind, and a healthy dose of American pride coursing through my veins thanks to the fireworks yesterday, I’ve decided to declare my independence from the scale.

While I’m not sure I have the strength or fortitude of our founding fathers to make it a PERMANENT division in our relationship, I do plan to secede from the scale for as long as possible. A few days. A week. Maybe I can make it until the end of July, who knows.

Regardless, I’m declaring today – July 5th, 2013 – my personal Independence Day from the scale. Much like the British, I anticipate a bit of retaliation from the little metal and glass piece of evil… but I’ll fight that battle when I have to. In the meantime, I’m going to savor my liberty for as long as possible.

Bon appetit, my friends, and happy Independence Day [from the scale] to all!

~ Tori

One Month

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Crap.

It’s June 11th.

How is it already June?

Hell, how is it already summer to begin with? I swear, yesterday I was still cleaning tinsel and pine needles from my carpets and now suddenly this blasphemous wall calendar is telling me it’s mid-June. What gives? I deserve at least another six weeks of May before we move into this horrible, no-good, very bad month.

Why am I panicking?

It’s one month away from my birthday today.

For most people, this is an exciting thing. Good things are on the way, right?

Presents! Cake! Friends! Celebration! Presents! Time off! Presents!

For me, the weeks leading up to my birthday tend to be stressful. For one, I’m not handling the whole aging-thing well. I know my face isn’t collapsing into wrinkles yet and I’m not standing in line for Botox, but I can definitely see the years moving faster and the toll it’s having on my body, my mind, and my heart – and it terrifies me.

 

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I have a list of goals a mile long and the time seems to be sneaking away faster and faster.

One of the goals I have [every year] is to hit my goal body weight. Amazingly, I was on track for more than the first six months of this year [birth year, not new year], but I lost my mojo right around the holidays and have yet to get back into motion.

More than ever, I’ve been yo-yo’ing up and down since December 2012 and haven’t been able to get back into a diet or workout regimen that I can stick to for more than a few weeks.

Well, now we’re officially one month away from my birthday and I’m sitting more than 12 pounds over my goal weight, whereas I was just 4 pounds away from it back in December.

To say that I’m mad at myself is a bit of an understatement.

I’m disappointed. I’m embarrassed. For such a driven person, why do I let food and my own laziness beat me so often?

Fortunately, I’m not a morose person by nature, so instead of wallowing in depression today, I’ve merely recommitted myself to my goals. While I don’t think I can get 12 pounds off in 30 days [not in a healthy way, at least], I do think I can dent that number pretty substantially if I set my mind to it.

So… here goes. [Boy, deja-vu with that statement, right?]

Today’s weight: 142.2

Ideal Body Weight: 130 or less

Let’s do this.

Bon Appetit, my friends!

~ Tori

Throw Back Thursday

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I seem to be one of the few people left in [social-media aware] society that doesn’t practice in the art of posting about Throw Back Thursdays.

So, what exactly is “Throw Back Thursday?” A toast to the past? A reflection on who/what we were in years gone by? Or is this just something Radio Jockeys use as an excuse when they’re tired of playing the same 40 songs over and over and want to mix it up a bit?

Well, since I don’t want to miss the boat on the tradition, here’s a little throw-back for you –

This is me - at age 16. Yeah. I was probably right around 195-200 lbs at this point in time.

This is me – at age 16. Yeah. I was probably right around 195-200 lbs at this point in time.

Yup. Just a little over one decade ago, this was my every day. This is right around the time in my life where I was a devout Mountain Dew enthusiast and would come home and prepare my “pre-dinner” – AKA, a family-sized portion of pasta salad or mashed potatoes that I’d eat before my family got home to have a real dinner.

A lot of people ask me why I keep some of these pictures around. This photo is actually in a drawer in my kitchen, which is where I’ve kept it in the last three homes I’ve lived in. I do it as a reminder of the person I once was: unhealthy, self-deprecating, and a little lonely.

While that may seem a bit morose on my part, it reminds me that every day I wake up, I get to make a decision. Well, several decisions actually:

Will I be happy or will I be sad?

Will I nourish my body or will I punish it?

Will I seek out the positive or dwell in the negative?

There’s something about looking at your past that makes the decisions of your future seem significantly easier.

So, Happy Throwback Thursday everyone. It’s time to make the most of the present and plan for the future.

Bon Appetit,

~ Tori

 

The Wagon

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Have you ever fallen off the wagon so hard you’re not exactly sure how to get back on?

You sit there on the ground, dazed and confused, not quite sure what happened. You’re bruised, you’re shocked, but – most of all – you’re disappointed that you let it happen.

Yeah, that’s me right now.

Just three weeks ago, I celebrated the fact that I had squeezed into my bridesmaid’s dress for my brother-in-law’s wedding. I had blogged consistently the weeks [months] leading up to the goal. I held myself accountable. And, damn it, I made it happen. I achieved my goal, despite all of the obstacles leading up to it.

The second that zipper went down, the horse must have bucked or something, because I FLEW off that wagon and haven’t been able to spot it since.

Did I mention I had pasta and a heath bar for dinner last night? Yeah. Where the $#@! did that wagon go?

Despite my utter disgust with myself right now, I can’t see to find the motivation to fix it.

Fortunately, years of dieting has ingrained some good habits into me, regardless of the fact that my wagon is off on the Oregon Trail or something right now.

I pack lunch, which normally consists of a salad or a lean cuisine. I keep raw almonds and protein bars at work. Dinner, of course, is another story. One that I’m too exhausted/depressed to tell at the moment.

I’m in a funk. Can someone show me the way back to my happy place? I could use a trail guide right about now.

In the trough of my wave,

~ Tori

One Week

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OK.

I’m officially one week away from my brother-in-law’s wedding.

That means I’m officially one week away from wearing my bridesmaid’s dress, which wouldn’t zip the last 1/2 inch when I tried it on two weeks ago.

I wish I could say I’ve been sticking to a diet and exercise plan over the past two weeks, but I most certainly have NOT. Between moving into our new place and celebrating our wedding anniversary a couple of weeks ago, my husband and I have been eating horribly. I’m terrified at the thought of trying on the dress tonight, as I’m fearful it might be tighter instead of looser.

I have a game plan.

  • Starting tonight, I’m going to do 60-90 minutes of cardio every day. Without fail.
  • In addition, I’m going to try and spend about 10-15 mins in the gym’s sauna to shed any excess water weight I’m clinging to, which I doubt is much, but it’s worth a shot.
  • I’m going to stick to coffee and fruit for breakfast this whole week, a salad for lunch, and just a lean protein with green veggies for dinner. Normally I aim to be more balanced, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
  • If, by Thursday, the dress is still tight – I’ll have a body wrap scheduled for Saturday. I normally avoid these because they are expensive and only provide short term [approx 6 weeks] results, but they do work to shed inches, quickly, so I can squeeze in the dress. I actually did this before my best friend’s wedding last spring and my dress went from being SUPER snug to comfortable and loose after just one wrap.

So, here goes. I’m surprisingly good at staying on track when I have a VERY tight deadline to meet, so let’s see how much damage I can UNDO over the course of this week. Otherwise, I might be out shopping for a replacement bridesmaid’s dress the night before the wedding.

*GULP*

Bon appetit, my friends!

~ Tori

Scale, be gone!

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A very interesting thing has happened.

In packing and moving this past week, I accidentally packed up the digital scale from the bathroom. Since we’re not officially moving into the new place until next weekend, I had planned to keep it out and visible until the last day, as it’s essential [for me] to know where I stand with my weight.

But yeah. It’s gone.

I’ve gone the last 24 hours without a scale. For most people, that’s not a very long time. How many times does the average, healthy person weight themselves? Once per day? Once per week? Only at regular check-ups at the doctor’s office?

For me, it can be five to six times per day.

Depending on what I ate [or didn’t eat] that particular day, it could be so much more.

At the minimum, I weight myself every morning. It’s the first thing I do. Before brushing my teeth, before giving my husband a kiss, I step on the scale.

Those three to five seconds before my weight registers are so stressful.

Will today be a good day?

Those little numbers light up on the digital screen, either validating my existence or telling me that I’m the lowest, most vile and disgusting human being to every walk the earth.

It’s amazing what numbers can do.

Well, for the last 24 hours, I’ve been scaleless. Due to my own accidental placement during a packing frenzy, I’ve freed myself, if only temporarily, from my in-house judgment.

I got up this morning, in my usual hazy stupor and trudged to the bathroom, only to see that little shadow on the tile floor where the scale used to be. So, instead of my morning ego-check, I climbed back into bed, snuggled with my husband, and thought about my plans for the day.

No stress.

No superficial joy.

No hate for myself, manifested by little black numbers on a backlit LED screen.

It was a very freeing experience. While I don’t trust myself to be able to give up the scale permanently, I don’t think I’ll be in a rush to unpack it. I kind of liked this… normal… morning.

Hmmmmmmm. Now what’s for breakfast?

Bon appetit,

~ Tori

 

Wait, weight, wait!

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I made the executive decision NOT to weigh myself this morning.

After a weekend of eating, boozing, and general laziness [celebrating my anniversary], I decided the scale would likely not be my best friend this morning. The fact that I had a muffin top with every pair of dress pants I tried on confirmed that fact.

It’s amazing how quickly you can regain weight that you struggled for months to lose. It’s astounding how a weekend of scarfing whatever you want and skipping the gym can show an immediate impact on how your body looks and feels.

Why can’t weight WAIT?

Why is it always in such a rush to return?

It’s like an overly attached lover. The second it leaves you, howling and screaming as it’s dragged off, it seeks any opportunity it can to race back to your hips – literally. And oh, God forbid you make the tiniest slip with that ex-lover and welcome him in your door one night, either out of self-pity or defiance – you’ll never get him out again.

I am in a constant hate:apathy relationship with my weight. I either hate it or I don’t give a crap about it. Right now, I hate the fact that I haven’t given a crap about it for so long. Out of pure passivity, I let that ex-lover back into my life and now he’s taken to filling my bureau with his crap and settling in for a long stay.

Time for an eviction, folks.

Let’s do this!

Today’s weight: 142.6?

[this is a guess, since I didn’t weigh myself this morning]

Goal by 5.5.2013: 130-132.

Salads, cardio, and no sweets for the next three weeks!

~ Tori

 

The Plithe of the Bridesmaid

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So… just tried on my bridesmaid’s dress for my brother-in-law’s upcoming wedding. It zips – except for the last stubborn 1.5 inches.

CRAP.

The wedding is on May 5th, which means I have less than 30 days to make this dress fit. My guess is that I could stand to drop 5 lbs, which is roughly what I’ve put on since the last time I was fitted.

Normally, I would just switch to “hardcore diet” mode, but here’s my dilemma:

This weekend is my 6th wedding anniversary.

Which means I’ll be eating out, skipping the gym, and swooning over my stud muffin of a husband – not working out. Did I mention eating? Love and chocolate are synonymous in my book.

Following my anniversary, I’ll be moving into my new house the next weekend. Which means all my dishes are packed, Lord knows where my tennis shoes are at the moment, and I’ll probably be eating fast food, just because it’s the quickest and easiest thing to grab.

This doesn’t seem like the recipe for weight loss success, does it?

In all likelihood, this dress is bound to get TIGHTER in the next two weeks versus looser. Which means I’ll be working at an even bigger deficit when I get back to normal and probably will be working to shed 7-8 lbs in less than two weeks.

I’m in trouble.

Hoping for a miracle… or the stomach flu,

~ Tori