 Over the past few weeks, you may have seen me throw around the term maintenance break. Maybe it was in reference to my podcast appearance where I talked about my previous experience with it. A maintenance break, in my case, is a set period of time when I deliberately do not go after weight loss. Yes, I emphasized deliberately, because since starting this epic journey in 2017, I've managed to not lose weight over many weeks or even months. But, it wasn't planned. The lack of movement on the scale was more about getting sloppy with my habits than any sort of planned action. How is a maintenance break different than my normal routine? There's only one major difference in what I do when I'm working towards weight loss and when I'm on a maintenance break: the number of calories I eat/drink. That's all. In the simplest terms, weight loss is about having a calorie deficit. In other words, you want to burn more calories than you eat. Think of the process like a see-saw or a teeter-totter. If you pile on too many calories on one end of it, the other side (your weight goes) up.  But there is that sweet spot on every see-saw where it balances. And, while it's not an exact science to find that perfect maintenance spot with calories, it is possible to narrow that window so the weight goes up and down just a little bit over a period of time. That's where tracking my calories daily has come in handy. I've been able to look at the numbers over the weeks and months and come up with an average daily calorie target to keep my weight as stable as possible: about 2,750 calories. From there, I multiplied that number by 7 to get the total calories I can have for the week. Then, I sketched out how I want to "spend" those calories every day. Think of it like a checking account. This is called calorie-cycling. Some days are higher than the average, some days are lower and some are right near the bullseye. But they all should stay within that budget of calories.  You can see that I have planned calories and a place for actual calories, because LIFE happens. I like calorie-cycling because I can have days with some extra treats or a larger meals. Then, I have a few days where I balance it out with lower calorie options.
I'm hoping this will come in handy while on vacation. Hitting the Disney parks without some sort of plan can be tricky for sure! So my rules for the maintenance break are simple:
Finding maintenance calories takes time, but the investment is so worth it because once you have that information, you know what your calorie numbers are to lose weight when you're ready. Stay tuned for updates on how My Maintenance May is going!
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 April came and went in a flash. Wanted to take a look back at some stats and give a progress report on where things are with the weight loss. On April 1, I weighed 293.7. My moving average weight (which is calculated via the Happy Scale app I use--and no, they don't sponsor me!) was 291.8. On May 1, I weighed 287. My moving average was 288.1. That's a drop of 4.3 pounds on the actual scale and a drop of 3.7 pounds for my moving average. I've made consistent progress since ending my maintenance break in early January. I believe it's about 13 pounds total since then. FOCUS ON HABITS I think a big shift in my brain started late last year when I started my maintenance break and really leaned more into my habits than just the results. I'm still focused on the scale (trust me), but it's stressing me out less often than it used to. I know if I am consistent with the habits like tracking my food, sticking a certain calorie range, drinking my water and getting in activity, the weight will come off. Other habits I've focused on include posting in my accountability group on Half Size Me, posting on the Lighter Side's social media and here, managing my bedtime, and even my writing. I'm also spending time over the weekends planning meals and my schedule. The time I spend up front keeps me grounded during the week.  TRAINING UPDATE
My next race is on June 12: the Dayton Spring 5K. It will be the first live race since I completed the Disney Princess Half Marathon in 2020 just before the world shut down. After completing the 2021 Virtual Disney Princess Challenge (5K, 10K and Half Marathon) back in February, I decided to take a break from distance running and go back to the distance that got me started. I have been driving my coach crazy trying to figure out the best training plan to help improve my endurance and speed. It is a long distance/virtual endeavor, so I'm constantly asking questions. But, my times are improving and I'm now consistently running complete 5Ks and doing separate speed drills. Well, speed is a relative term, but I'm getting faster. Just not as quickly as I'd like. I'm not sure if I'll go back to walk/run intervals. I think it will depend on which approach gives me more speed and endurance. With a two-week vacation coming up, my training will be different than usual. I am in the process of figuring that out. I know there will be fewer running days per week, but there will be many steps as we hit Disney parks to celebrate my oldest daughter's college graduation! WHAT'S COMING FOR MAY I'll be doing a separate post on my Maintenance Plan for May. As of May 1, I shifted to a one-month weight maintenance routine. It will be my second planned maintenance break and my first one while going on vacation. I will be sharing the details in the next post! If you haven't signed up for the Make a Swap May Challenge, it's not too late! Don't miss your chance to focus on making easy, healthy swaps in your day to add a few healthy habits along the way! Just click here to sign up and get your first week materials! This is the conclusion of a chapter excerpt from my manuscript in progress. This section talks about the day I decide to try one last time to turn my life around. Many have asked what motivated me to start this journey. Here is where you'll find the first look at that story. You can read part of of this excerpt by clicking here. "This surgery could change your life," Dr. McCarty repeated.
"Not if I'm dead!" One of the tears escaped and slid down my cheek. I will not cry! I will not cry, damn it! When I forced myself to look at her, I noticed her eyes showed compassion and even a little pity. The compassion I didn't mind. The pity, I secretly hated. "Well, we need to figure something out," she said. The doctor took the time to outline a few options. First, signing up for the hospitals weight loss clinic. After seeing a friend pay a ton of money to sit in a room, pick up shakes that would be the only thing she consumed for weeks until she could splurge on rabbit food, I knew that route was a no-go. I couldn't even stick to drinking Slim-Fast shakes and those are a hell of a lot cheaper. She tried to talk to me again about weight loss surgery. I still fought back. Beyond being scared of dying on the operating table, I wasn't convinced doctors cutting out part of my stomach or re-routing my digestive plumbing would be a band-aid on a long-festering wound. Somewhere deep down, I knew how much I ate and what I decided to eat was more about what was eating me more than the actual food. If I didn't address my actual habits and the reasons behind them, I'd continue to drop pounds in the short term and boomerang back up to an even higher weight. And yeah, that all sounds great. While I don't know what the doctor thought when I shared that bit of brilliance, I am pretty sure she thought I was blowing smoke up her ass. Knowing that and acting on it are two different things. She was kind enough to keep her opinions to herself. Maybe she was worried about my attitude problem. Maybe I'll ask her one day. Ultimately, we wound up back to the topic of Weight Watchers. It had worked for me in the past and seemed like the best option I was willing to give a serious effort. Somehow, I managed to convince her to give me six months to start making progress. "If you can't make this work, Marie, we need to seriously talk about surgery," she said, as she filled out refills for my laundry list of medications. "I understand," I agreed quietly. She told me to make my follow-up appointment for January and wished me luck. The walk back to my car took nearly all my effort, physically and emotionally. "Almost 387 pounds" screamed inside my head over and over with each heavy step. My hands shook as I pulled the keys out of my purse. I maneuvered myself awkwardly into the driver's seat, yanked the door closed and heard a scream that scared the hell out of me. My shrieks hurt my throat and I slammed my hands onto the steering wheel, clutching it until my knuckled turned white. "I can't do this! I just can't! Oh, God! What do I do now? Please! I'm not strong enough to do this!" Tears finally flowed freely and my mind remembered back to when I was 287 pounds. It seemed like a lifetime ago. At the time, I believed losing 88 pounds to get out of the 200s was not possible. Now I had another hundred pounds to add to that? I continued to scream and cry and shake myself in the parked car in that lot, not caring if anyone heard me or saw me. Most of the time I felt invisible anyway, so, I was pretty sure I was safe. Eventually, I dropped the drama and just sat with the cold, hard truth. I had to figure out how to save my own life. The next day, I signed up for Weight Watchers. Which go-round was this? Who knew? What I wondered was how would it be different than all the others? No answers came to me, but I had to start somewhere. I had no big goals or plans in front of me. I had to swallow my pride and tell myself, "Yeah, I'm trying this...AGAIN." I had to trust I would find a way to not make this a temporary fix, but a lasting change. Somewhere beneath the layers of fat, I had to find the courage to reach out to save myself, because no one else could do it for me. Hello, treadmill, my old friend. I've come to fight with you again. "It's been 84 years, and I can still smell the fresh sweat." Nothing fresh about how I was after my first treadmill workout in I think 11 or so months. The rain and the wind conspired against me today and I decided it was time to suck it up and hit the Y. I never let my membership lapse during the shutdown. I'm fully vaccinated & past the two-week mark. I had no excuse. My mortal enemy was waiting for me. Standing absolutely still, arms thrust out as if welcoming back into the Thunderdome with enthusiasm & a cold and unfeeling stare almost daring me to take move forward. After a few seconds of a silent standoff, I took the first step and then another and then another. It wasn't pleasant. The machine mocked me and tried to get me to give up before my planned 5K. About 1.5 miles in, I realized I forgot to bring a water bottle. At the 2-mile mark, I noticed a couple of EMTs heading in my direction. My God, did someone call 911 because I look like I'm about to go into cardiac arrest? Sweat poured from my forehead and my whole body thanks to no fans and no AC due to safety restrictions. My breathing was a bit labored, but until then I thought I was holding my own. Perhaps this was a bad idea after all. The EMTs walked by me and tended to a young woman, who was fine but apparently dehydrated. I did not stop to watch the drama unfold behind me. I knew if I did, I'd be done. For a while, it was a tug of war. I may have slowed down a few times, but I would not let this glorified rubber band running in circles throw me off like a slingshot. At the end of 50 minutes, I shut it down. Workout complete. Soaked shirt, slightly wobbly legs, and a renewed appreciation for running outdoors--but I can claim victory in today's battle. The lady at the desk handed me a bottle of water. She said one 911 call was enough for the day. I hope it doesn't rain tomorrow is all I'm saying.  This is an excerpt from the manuscript I am working on. What will happen with it? I don't know. But, I know quite a few people have asked me how I got started on my journey. Here is where you'll find the first look at that story. I plan to post more and hope people find it helpful to know they are not alone in starting out on such a long and difficult process. I know reading about others' paths has helped me realize I am not special or unique. We all have our struggles and are stronger when we share them.  I July 7, 2017
"So, what are we going to do about the weight?" My doctor turned away from her laptop and looked me right in the eye. My smart-ass mouth wanted to fire back. "We? What is this 'we' crap, doc? WE aren't going to do anything!" But, I didn't feel like a smart-ass that day. All that filled me was shame, defensiveness, and vulnerability. "You're up to almost 387 pounds," Dr. McCarty continued quietly and waited for a reply. A lump in my throat blocked my response. For years, I thought closing my eyes whenever I stepped on the scale would make the number matter less or maybe even make my obesity just disappear. She glanced back at my chart. "You have high blood pressure. High cholesterol. A fatty liver. Type 2 Diabetes. Sleep apnea. Asthma and depression. Am I missing anything?" "No," I finally muttered. "That about covers it." In that moment, I simultaneously felt huge enough to fill an entire room on the outside, yet microscopic on the inside. Sitting on that exam table, where my fat ass already stuck to and ripped the paper sheet stretched across felt like torture. Doing so while wearing wearing a hospital gown that the ties couldn't reach together only degraded my dignity even more. My first visit with Dr. McCarty wasn't off to the best start. Tears of humiliation hovered on the brink of exposing my emotions. I don't cry in front of many people and this doctor was a stranger. I held my breath to keep the floodgates from opening. After a few moment of silence, she pushed the computer aside. "Have you tried losing weight before?" I think I laughed out loud. Talk about a loaded question! Only she didn't find any humor in the situation. Dr. McCarty just sat there and looked at me. "Yeah," I answered. "What have you done?" "Weight Watchers a few times," I replied and looked over her shoulder out the window. I knew if I looked at her directly, I'd bawl my eyes out. She nodded. "What happened with that? Did it not work?" "Of course it worked!" I snapped. This game of 20 questions was really getting annoying. She raised an eyebrow at my tone, but silently leaned forward. "For a while," I reluctantly continued. "I stopped doing it after a few months each time. The plan worked. I stopped working it." Dr. McCarty nodded. She opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated for a moment. Finally, she just jumped right into the deep end. "Have you ever thought of weight loss surgery?" I shook my head fiercely. "No way. Not doing that." If I could have jumped off the exam table, I would have grabbed my clothes and run like Hell. "We have a fantastic team here at the hospital," she continued calmly. "I can't!" I started to sweat and my already elevated blood pressure was probably spiking off the chart by this point. "You'd be a perfect candidate to go through the process." "I don't want to," I insisted. "Why not? It would help save your life." "Not if I don't survive the surgery!" I blurted out. Dr. McCarty leaned back a little. "What?" "The last time I had surgery, the anesthesiologist said I had a lot of problems with going under. He said it could be dangerous." A few years earlier, I had a uterine ablation, a relatively minor procedure to help reduce heavy periods. However, my obesity and then-undiagnosed apnea caused complications while I was under and in my recovery. First, the surgical team had to use more anesthesia to compensate for my body size. All of that fat not only requires more drugs to work properly, but it also holds onto it longer, making coming out of my surgical nap a bit of an issue. While I got to go home on the same day, the anesthesia "hangover " was brutal. It took days for me to get over feeling like an 18-wheeler repeatedly ran over me. After that, I adopted a no-elective surgery rule. I believed the next time I went under the mask would be my last. "This surgery could change your life," Dr. McCarty repeated. "Not if I'm dead!" One of the tears escaped and slid down my cheek. I will not cry! I will not cry, damn it!" When I forced myself to look at her, I noticed her eyes showed compassion and even a little pity. The compassion I didn't mind. The pity, I secretly hated. "Well, we need to figure something out," she said. |
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