Monday Stats, 5/13/2109

Last week was tough and this week will be, too. I’m on antibiotics that must be taken 12 hours apart and with food, so IF is out the window, for the most part. This is MUCH MUCH MUCH harder without proper IF.

My calories were less accurate this week. I tried to track everything, but there were some restaurant meals that were very difficult to count. I do not believe that I was way off my counts, but honestly, restaurants are the bane of my existence. I just cannot strike the balance between getting a meal I will enjoy and understanding how to count the calories properly. It is very frustrating and I’m about at the stage of only wanting to eat at restaurants that publish their nutritional data. Which would severely limit our options and hubby will not like that. Then another part of me thinks that I have to figure it out sometime, because I cannot avoid restaurants for the rest of my life. Nor would I want to. Ugh.

I started antibiotics on Thursday night and fasting went to hell after that. Friday’s fast was broken, but the app will not let me modify it the way I needed to, so that day is not at all as was recorded. I managed to squeeze in some fasting, but no more 18 hours or whatever until these antibiotics are done. The problem with that is it is much harder to control my calories when meals are spread so far apart. I don’t know why, it just is. I tried really hard, but alas, I failed a lot. I’m not even taking the antibiotics properly AND I’m failing. I should have just scrapped fasting altogether, taken my lumps, and then stuck with strict calories. But I didn’t and now I’m at the stage where there’s no food in the house and my choices are deteriorating. Mostly because I’m off my game.

Hear me now, though – I AM NOT GIVING UP.

Which is good to hear before I tell you about the scale this morning…

I weighed myself 3 times. 329.6, 332.1, 333.6.

The average is 331.8. That would put me 1.2 pounds OVER what I weighed at the doctor’s office. I don’t see how I could have gained a pound unless it is water, and honestly think I could have still lost a pound (the first weight listed). I was off this week, but not THAT off. But I have to go with the scale, since it’s what I’ve got, so we’ll call this my first official setback.

It’s sad, but it is what it is. I will also point to the calendar and remind us all that it’s about that time of the month so one might actually expect some bloating to occur right about now.

Vagaries, I tell you. Vagaries.

But this is me, not giving up on myself. I will carry on, my wayward son. There’ll be peace when I am done. Lay my weary head to rest. Don’t you cry no more. bum bum ba dum (lyrics, Wayward Son, by Kansas) I am listening to this right now. Feeling vintage and very much my age. If you are a youngun’, please disregard.


PS (Updated 5/15/19) – I got a pedometer (still haven’t found the old fitbit) and have been tracking my steps. I am not trying to hit a goal, yet, just keeping track of what I normally do. I’ll start posting those stats on Mondays, as well.


Feeling High, Not Fat

Sadly, I cannot attribute my “high” to weed. It’s still illegal here. It’s probably best, because I am not at all prepared to battle the munchies.

But as the title says, I am feeling kinda high right now. Anyone following along will note that PMS may hit in a week, so let’s enjoy this moment of optimism, shall we?

I tried to eat more than my allotted calories yesterday. I keep reading about people needing a blow out day (not, like, a big binge, but a “don’t watch the clock or the count” day) and yesterday was going to be it. I got within 50 calories of my max recommended for the day and could not go any further before I needed to close my eating window for the day. By 11pm, I probably could have enjoyed a snack, but I truly, madly, deeply did not want to.

I literally could not eat more than my recommended calories.

Let’s repeat that. I. Couldn’t. Even.

I’m sure that was an isolated event. There are bound to be days when my calories seem like something out of Oliver Twist (please, sir, may I have a few more calories), but it is still amazing to have a day where it was more than enough.

Also, I sincerely browsed the snack bowl at lunch time today and took a pass. My desire for the stuff in the bowl was not sufficient for the calories they would cost me. Let that little gem sink in. If you are embarking on weight loss, you might feel, secretly, that there is no hope that you will succeed. You might try, but deep in your heart have no faith that it will work. I know I felt that way many, many times. I essentially felt that way for 20 years. All of a sudden, though, I realize that not only can I do this, but it actually works. A lot has gone into this formula to get me this far. My head, my heart, my knowledge bank all needed work. Years of work. And no doubt, my needs will change as I go along. The important part is that for the first time in my life, I believe that I can do this. And I believe that I can do this without gaining it all back in the end.

I don’t know how far I plan to take this. We will see. My general goal is to lose somewhere around 200 pounds. How long that takes, whether I need adjust that number, will be revealed in time. For now, I’m 15% of the way there. If 15% was a discount on some good I wanted to purchase, I’d be pumped. Not as pumped as I would be for a 50% discount, but let’s look at it another way – I now need to lose 170ish pounds. Not 200. 170.

I’ll take it.


Bonus Pound + New Crocs (lol)

I had to go to the doctor AGAIN. I have had litany of stuff go wrong with me in the past 1.5 years. But once again, it came with a bonus – their scale said I weighed 330.6.

330.6!!! That’s 29.4 pounds lost. Almost thirty, y’all!

Also, I was bored while waiting so I took a picture of my new crocs. I’m crocs4life, just like I’m fat4life, because when my feet and ankles and back were killing me, crocs saved me every night when I got home. But those old crusty black ones were getting rough. So I upgraded! (Also, turns out they were always the wrong size? Oops.)

Here’re my new croc friends (and the ubiquitous medical facility flooring, which I probably should definitely, absolutely not touch with my bare feet):

Note, I added a jibbit to match my tattoo. I told you I was a dork.


Monday Stats, May 6, 2019

Here is where it all shook out for me last week:

My calories stayed at or below 1800 every day this past week! It wasn’t that hard!

Twas a good week for fasting!

I fasted well, that’s for sure!

I weighed in at 332.2 this morning! I have lost 27.8 total.

So that’s good! Making progress!


Tomorrow is Weigh Day, Today is Okay

I am not suffering from scale-induced anxiety. I’ve been on target all week and while the scale may not reflect that tomorrow, I am zen with my behavior this week. I did what I needed to do to take care of myself. That counts. This is healthy weight loss. This is what it looks like. If the vagaries of sodium intake, water weight, hormones, (or any of the other Numbers Knocks ™ that can occur) do happen, I’m still fine.

If you are following, you know that I am doing IF and so I really only eat 2 meals a day. I try not to snack, but sometimes I do tack a snack onto my lunch. Today’s was this:

Falafel flavored crunchy chick peas. Wow, they taste just like falafel! (I mean, it’s made from chick peas, so it’s not exactly mysterious, but still…) ~130 calories of crunchy & tasty.

Anyway, I do recommend! I’m not naming names, but if you find some, try them!



Still going strong over here. I am staying on track with my fasting (for the most part) and my eating. And since this blog has focused a lot on negative topics, I thought I would focus on a positive one: there are, in fact, lifestyle gains from losing 24 pounds.

You might be thinking, but FatJulia, you have like 200 pounds to lose. How can 24 pounds make a difference?

It does, person. It does.

My clothes fit better. Some of them might be a little loose, but I like that. I know it will turn on me eventually, but for now, everything in my closet fits, for a change.

Certain…uh… hygiene tasks are easier. I was able to do okay on the hygiene front before, but it was getting a kinda tough sometimes. A stiff back, limited flexibility, and the weight were all conspiring to make certain things a challenge. Those things are much easier now. Hand to God.

It is pretty darn easy to stick with it, at this stage. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve logged enough weeks to establish a new habit or if my stomach shrank or what, but it’s not an all-day struggle anymore. It’s just an occasional struggle. 10pm to 11pm is the only time I want to break. It’s the witching hour when every snack in the house looks like a fucking goldmine of deliciousness. BUT! That’s about 3 or 4 hours into a new fast and I don’t want to find myself with only a 12 hour or 14 hour fast the next day, so usually, I just brush my teeth and go to bed.

It’s getting easier to walk around. Oh, stuff still hurts, don’t get me wrong. I’m not, like, skinny, yet. But I feel like some weight has been lifted. Because it has. So there’s a touch more spring in my step. I’m not mad.

I have gotten rid of my 3rd pillow. So, I do love pillows and like a lot people, I’m pretty picky about them. I have two very squishy ones for my head and up until a week ago had a 3rd pillow for my back. It was a nice memory foam pillow and without it, my back hurt too much to fall asleep or stay asleep. I no longer need the 3rd pillow. I don’t get the physiology of it, but there it is.

I fit slightly better in the driver’s seat of my car. Only slightly, but I’ll take it. I’m still using a seat-belt extender and my hip rubs the console, but I feel a teeny bit further from the steering wheel and like I have just a bit more room to breathe. It is, actually, quite refreshing.

That’s all I can come up with off the top of my head. If I think of some more, I’ll edit the list. I want anyone who is starting out – anyone morbidly obese who thinks the rest of their life is going to be a slow, painful, immobilization and crowding to death – that just a few weeks of effort can and will put another inch or two between you and the body-fat-coffin you are building.


Me. As a kid.

Below are photos of me from when I was a kid(esque). I am going to make a few captions. This is where it started.

I was a girl. I dunno why they dressed me this way. Pretty sure that’s a fake smile, too. Overdid it a little. My nickname back then was “stump” because I was “short and round.”
I was teased mercilessly at home, although, surprisingly, nowhere else. No one else had any chub on them in my family.
Aw, my lil pants don’t zip. I think I wanted this shirt, but I definitely never wanted that haircut. That was forced upon me.
A lot of people in my family are very vain. This was a real turning point in my life. My father was brutal about my size in this dress. I loved the dress and thought it was so pretty, but hated the person in it. Still getting the bad haircuts. This was also there era in my life when my dad made me exercise. In front of him. While he sat on the couch smoking and drinking scotch. And mocking me. I’ll never willingly do a jumping jack again. LOL
Dad thought we should all dress exactly like he did. I was trying to grow my hair out so I could look more like a girl. My pants came from the “husky” section and Dad never let me live that down.
If you ridicule your child, this is how they feel inside. That face. Sadness and daggers.
My hair was pretty darn fabulous. LOL I was still ridiculed constantly. I was always ridiculed.

I guess, upon reflection, I wasn’t as horrible as I thought I was back then or as horrible as I was told I was. If you ridicule and fat shame your child – if you mark the soda bottles and count the cookies and punish them for being hungry after school without providing them alternatives – you are damaging your child. Just saying.

I guess I have decided that old, virtually unrecognizable pictures of me are okay.