One Year Ago Today

One year ago I was at Baptist Hospital having lap-band surgery. I weighed in at 287 lbs and wore a size 26. I was officially morbidly obese. I couldn’t go up a single flight of stairs without losing my breath. I never worked out. I didn’t know how to read food labels. I ate pasta, pizza or fast food several times a week. Not a day went by that I didn’t indulge in a sweet treat. I couldn’t fly on an airplane without getting a seatbelt extender. I couldn’t enjoy activities like ziplining or horseback riding because I exceeded the weight limit.  I had a hard time fitting in booths at restaurants. The only had two stores I could shop at regularly. I had high blood pressure.  

Today, I weigh in at 167 lbs. I’ve lost a total of 120 lbs in the last year. I’m a size 10. I work out at least five days a week (not counting the last couple of weeks due to my broken foot). I can tell you anything you want to know about a food label and how to read it. I never buy an item in the store without reading the label to make sure it passes my dietary inspection. I have not had pizza, pasta, rice, soda, a candy bar or bread in the last year. I’ve only had fast food literally a few times, and it’s usually a salad. I have one dessert a week. I have plenty of room on airplanes and in booths, and no longer look at weight restrictions on anything. I shop wherever I want, and get overwhelmed by all the choices. My recent blood work showed perfect health. 

Am I exactly where I want to be? Nope. Will I ever be? I’m not sure. Right now I’m still considered overweight for my height. I should weigh 150 lbs to be a “healthy” weight. I don’t know if anyone is ever truly happy with what they look like. I’m also not sure if I’m any different. Instead of complaining about my weight, I complain about my surgery scars and the extra skin I have. I don’t consider myself a failure for being 17 lbs overweight. I consider myself a success for only being 17 lbs overweight. I’m staying focused on the fact that I lost 120 lbs in a year!

Thank you all for taking this journey with me. I know it’s been a crazy year. Thank you for standing by me as I complained, stared longingly at your food or had to excuse myself to throw up. I truly believe your support gave me the motivation I needed to get through this. I am forever grateful.

I hope you will continue to enjoy my blog. I’ve still got some weight to lose and a lot of life to enjoy!

The tale of how my feet suck

I’m spending my lunch writing this post alone in my office. Mostly because I don’t want to have to repeat this story a million times, but also because I’m feeling a little sorry for myself.

Two years ago I had surgery on my right foot to remove one of my sesamoid bones. 

It started out as a stress fracture, but went untreated for a while. I was so overweight at the time I figured my feet just hurt from holding me up all the time. Eventually the bone shattered into a bunch of pieces. It was in so many tiny pieces that it showed up as normal on an X-ray. It took months of tests to rule out everything from gout to lupus. Finally, an MRI revealed that my sesamoid bone was destroyed. I went off to surgery to have the bone fragments removed and a tendon rerouted to take its place.

About a month ago I started feeling a familiar pain, this time in my left foot. I kept telling myself it would get better. Nope. I went to my doctor today and he confirmed I don’t have a stress fracture, but I have broken a sesamoid bone in my left foot. I went early enough that this one hasn’t shattered, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He put me in an air cast and told me to not do anything for the next three weeks. After that he will determine if I need surgery or not.

There was nothing I could do to prevent this from happening. My sesamoid bones are basically defective, meaning I was just made this way. The right one probably broke under the pressure of all the extra weight I was carrying. My left one probably broke under the pressure from exercising all the time. Bottom line is that it would have happened eventually. Nonetheless, it’s heartbreaking to hit this roadblock after working so hard and coming so close to my weight-loss goal. I only have 20 lbs to go. Am I going to take a time out from exercising and gain a bunch of weight?

I don’t know how to take a break from exercising anymore. The longest I’ve gone in the past year without working out at all is five days. Three weeks is an eternity. After that I will either be having surgery or doomed to a bike or the pool. Just like that, I’m no longer training for a half-marathon.

Let the waiting game begin.