The only people who love curly hair are the people who don't have it

A haircut is probably not a big deal to lots of people. But for me, as my boyfriend Brian put it, getting my hair cut was an "event." I've had pretty long hair for most of my life, but every now and then I get sick of dealing with all that hair. Because I have an crazy amount of curly, thick hair. So much that I will never have to worry about going bald. My hair can be an unmanageable, frizzy monstrosity, but it can also be gorgeous when I take the time to deal with it. My hair has been my security blanket because even when I felt my most fat and ugly, I knew that I had great hair. It felt like could cover up all the ugliness with that one thing.

The last time I cut my hair was when I was right in the middle of dealing with hard times in my life primarily by devouring every pizza in America and gaining 80 lbs in a year. I cut it kind of as an act of desperation. I hated how I looked in the mirror more and more every day. Losing weight didn't seem possible because I couldn't give up the comfort food, but I could change my hair. So I dyed it dark and cut it pretty short. It wasn't flattering, but at least it was different. And I badly needed different. Here is that haircut:

This time when I decided I wanted to get my hair cut, it wasn't because I didn't like what I saw in the mirror. It was because I decided I didn't need my hair as a security blanket anymore. Well, also because it is approximately 10 million degrees outside and I was sick of dealing with that sweaty, frizzy mess. And also because my hair is so thick that it literally took 7 hours to air dry. And maybe also because while my hair does look great when I take the time to style it and wear it down, during April-October it is also so humid that it only looks good for about 15 minutes before it morphs into a gigantic afro, and I resort back to my ever-present side braid or ponytail. Okay, so I guess there's a lot of reasons I wanted my hair cut. I wish I could show you the horror that my hair can be after air drying in all that humidity, but I have wisely never allowed myself to photographed in that state (that I know of). So here is a different before/after shot than the ones I usually post here:

My hair looked this good for maybe 10 minutes after this shot was taken.

New do

My hair feels awesome and light now, and most importantly, I can still put it back in a ponytail for the gym (seriously, the woman at the salon probably thought I was a gym obsessed freak because I emphasized this point like a thousand times). I can wear it curly or straight or somewhere in between. I've got a lot of changes in my life coming up in the next few months, and even though it may seem silly, a new haircut helps me feel like a new person and like I can handle everything coming up (without shoving pizza in my mouth at an alarming rate). 

Back to the basics (and the foam crown man)

I came across a quote this week that has really stuck with me: Be stubborn about your goals and flexible about your methods. As of late, I have not been super flexible. Yes, I did give up the scale for 3 weeks and saw that I did not magically gain 10 lbs, and in fact, lost a little bit. But I keep doggedly running day after day, despite my lack of progress on the scale. Mainly, this is because I really love to run. And that's cool. I can still run. My problem is that I usually do nothing else. That has to change. I seem to have forgotten that it's not necessarily how long or for how many miles you work out, it's what you're doing to work out. Not exercising longer, but exercising smarter. I was about to wear out my body the way I just kept adding mile after mile to my running regimen.  I lost a lot of weight last year when I combined running with the elliptical, and also did strength training at the gym. So I am giving that another try. I am also trying to eat more protein and less carbohydrates. Not really carb cycling per say, but more like being more mindful about the amount of protein and carbs, since that is not usually something I track.

I haven't been the gym since I think about October of last year. I've been running outside (or when the weather was too cold in the winter, riding my bike inside) exclusively. It felt strange yesterday to go back to a place that once felt like my second home. I devoted numerous blog posts to this place, such as Foam crowns, free weights, and a flasher: Alliteration at its very best, Sweat, decapitation, and Tigger: All in a day's work at the gym, and the ever popular Up in da gym, workin' on my fitness. It was odd at first because I had some feelings similar to those I had when I first went to the gym at over 300 lbs. Like are the employees going to recognize me (because I was seriously there every single day, usually twice a day) and judge me because I haven't been in so long? Are they going to assume I've fallen off the wagon and gained weight (even though I'm pretty much exactly the same weight as I was in October)? It didn't help that when I went in and gave them my member number, the girl gave me a weird look and was like, "We use barcodes now."

But then there were some very different feelings even from the last time I went to the gym, being at a relatively normal weight. Back then, I still felt like I didn't belong sometimes. I still felt like the fat girl. I didn't feel like that way today. Even being away for about 9 months, I felt like I belonged there. I felt normal. It was nice to see the old regulars there, even the odd ones like the guy who wears a helmet with a foam crown on his head. I even remembered that last summer I refused to wear tank tops and tight running pants to the gym. I opted for baggy shirts and yoga pants every day.  I wore one of my running tank tops and pants today without a second thought. So I guess I have made some mental progress even since last October.

The elliptical kicked my butt. Anyone who thinks that the elliptical is just something you do if you can't hack the treadmill obviously has not been on the ellipical for any length of time. It just apparently works different muscles than running because I was soaked with sweat after an hour. I was glad to see that though. As far as strength training goes, the plan right now is for my boyfriend Brian to sign up at the gym tomorrow so we can start doing that together. Because while I may have pretty awesome self-motivation skills as far as cardio goes, I can't say the same for the strength training. I think being accountable to someone else will help that.

I'm pretty excited about these changes. They're not super big changes, but I have always believed that small changes are best because you can stick with them. Hopefully I will see some significant weight loss by the time I turn the big 31 in mid September.

Year 3: I'm all about dat bass (or something like that)

It seems crazy that as I write this, I am bringing year 3 of my weight loss odyssey (see, a different word than the ever-present journey) to a close. This year has gone somewhat differently than I imagined. This time last year, I thought for sure that I would have hit my goal weight by now. I haven't. And you know what? That's okay. It's really, truly okay. It's okay because I am living my life, and that's more important than 20 extra pounds. Sometime in the last year, I have really figured out the space in between all or nothing (shameless title plug). For awhile I beat myself up over not being super hard-core with my work-outs and eating 100% clean, but I eventually came to the realization that I would rather live my life and maybe take longer to finish losing the weight, than push myself to the breaking point getting the weight off and hating my life. I haven't fallen off the metaphorical wagon. In fact, I am driving the wagon. That dang wagon is fully in my control. I exercise a normal amount, and I eat clean 80% or so of the time. I let myself have treats. I let myself enjoy life. And you know what? For me, who has struggled with finding balance and moderation my whole life, that is a bigger win than losing 20 lbs. And though I still struggle to view it this way sometimes, I know in my heart that even maintaining a weight loss of almost 170 lbs like I have is something to be very, very proud of all by itself.

I believe a big reason for my attitude shift is my boyfriend, Brian (who will probably be embarrassed when he reads this, but I won't act like he hasn't played a big role). I've written before in here about my eternal singletude, and my disappointment that weight loss did not automatically translate to success in dating (check out Life begins at the end of your comfort zone and I guess my Prince Charming got stuck in a traffic jam). But last August, the impossible actually happened. I started dating Brian, and 10 months later we are still going strong. He's been so supportive of my weight loss efforts, but he also helps me keep a sense of balance (i.e. he calls me out for being crazy when I run 24 miles in a day or run out in the 100 degree heat). But he accepts and loves me just as I am, and what's more is, he accepts and loves who I used to be. I showed him my "before" pictures on our second date, and he wasn't disgusted by them. In fact, he said he wished he had known me then because then he could have been there for my whole transformation. There wasn't really a good way to be like, "Oh hey, by the way, I used to weigh over 300 lbs" but I felt like I needed to tell him because it has played such a huge part in my life and who I have become, that it would have just been weird not to tell him. Brian's kind and loving attitude has helped me be more kind and loving towards myself. So that kind of makes up for the fact that he can regularly eat 2 fast food dinners a night and never gain an ounce (hey, at least I've converted him to drinking water instead of soda!). If only he could let me borrow that superhuman metabolism. Here's a picture of us, because I think we're pretty cute.

Anyway, back to year 3. My year one post was filled with numbers. Pounds, percentages, inches oh my! Year 2 had some of that too, but I also talked about my other accomplishments. For year 3, I feel like I'm able to look past all those numbers and physical accomplishments, and look at the big picture....being happy, healthy, and active. You know, it's funny, but now when I look at my before picture, it almost feels like I'm looking at someone else. That girl is so different in every possible way than I am today. But unlike times past, I don't look at her with despair or regret or disgust. That girl was sad and unhealthy, but she was worthy even then. I look at her with love. While so many things have changed about me, the core of who I am remains the same, be it at over 300 lbs or less than half of that. I'm so glad that I decided the girl I used to be was worth saving. That's why I get annoyed now when people put down their before pictures or someone else's. It takes a lot of courage to change your life, and the person who first decided to do that wasn't the person who is fit and healthy today. It was the overweight person that people feel such disgust about that had the courage to take that very first step.

So as some of you know, I take progress pictures every year. The thought entered my mind that maybe I shouldn't take them this year since I haven't really lost weight. But then I decided that was stupid. I have made immense progress this year, just not in terms of pounds on the scale, and that deserves to be celebrated. So I put on my pretty white dress (a dress I never, ever would have worn at over 300 lbs for fear looking like a gigantic marshmallow), and even got a spray tan (because I rock an extremely severe case of sports bra tan lines and pasty white legs), and I went out to the park that I run in all the time to celebrate all I have been and all that I am (wow, that was super corny, but I'm allowed to get all sentimental and sappy on my anniversary). I decided that I also wanted a gigantic number 3 in my pictures. I stood in Party City yesterday and decided that, yes indeed, I would spend $10 on a huge balloon shaped like a 3. I mean, if all of this hasn't at least merited a gigantic balloon, I don't know what does!

So without further ado, year 3 progress pictures (taken, as all my other progress pictures were, by my mom), both the good and the humorous, because my face in some of these pictures is, well, special. Also. I like to try "interesting" poses, such as the one below that looks like a prom photo of me and an inanimate object. I thought about taking a picture of me wrestling and/or punching the 3, but that was too weird even for me.

Duh, got to have the before picture

 It's our official couple picture...sorry Brian

Really, I just enjoy the unintentional creepy look on my face here.

Home Alone...enough said.

I also enjoy this weird face.

It looks like I'm taking the balloon for a walk.

No, I'm not pretending to be an airplane.

 

*Gazes meaningfully in the distance*...and when picture isn't taken fast enough, wonders how long she will have to continue to stare meaningfully.

 

Me and me

You can tell which pictures I actually thought were good because of my lack of snarky comment. But seriously, when I saw these pictures, I thought that I looked beautiful (well, actually in some of them I thought I looked hilarious). But for the most part, beautiful and very, very happy. It kind of bothers me that maybe that seems arrogant, but I know in my heart that it's not. It's not like I go around all the time thinking about how gorgeous I am. For once, I didn't focus on my loose skin and gross arms and crow's feet. and blah, blah, blah. For once, I didn't think how I still kind of look fat. For once, the most kind thought I could muster up about myself wasn't "I look okay" or "I look decent." It was, "I look beautiful."

I was looking back at my anniversary blog posts from year 1 and 2, and I came across this quote that made me tear up. It hits home so much for me that I'll use it again this year too.

Take time to celebrate. Celebrate your successes, your growth, your accomplishments. Celebrate you and who you are. For too long you have been too hard on yourself. You are a child of God. Beautiful, a delight, a joy. You do not have to try harder, be better, be perfect, or be anything you are not. Your beauty is in you, just as you are each moment. Celebrate that. 

What do I hope for in year 4 (seriously, it really does seem crazy to write that!)? I hope I continue to keep this great sense of balance. I hope I continue to be kind to myself (but also give myself a come to Jesus talk when I need to). I do hope I hit my goal weight, even though that one single number isn't as important as it once was.  I hope I get more and more comfortable with the concept of being perfectly imperfect. For that matter, I hope I get more comfortable with the fact that while losing weight did improve my quality of life exponentially (SAT word!), it didn't suddenly make everything perfect.  And finally, I hope I keep living this amazing life that I could only have imagined and wished for 3 years ago, and never, ever take it for granted. 

The siren song of the scale

I'm a week and a half into my no weighing experiment. And while the scale still calls to me with the persistence of a spurned lover (I just wanted an excuse to use the phrase "spurned lover" there really), it's nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be. There have been moments where I have freaked out not knowing what I weigh. Then there have been moments where I freaked out because I wasn't freaking out not knowing what I weigh because part of me, however small, still fears going back to that girl who lived in denial about her weight and kept the scale hidden under the sink. And because I'm a little crazy. So basically, yes, there have been some freak-outs for multiple reasons. But here's the thing: they are getting fewer and fewer.

I thought during this experiment that I would be extra careful about what I ate and make sure I got tons of exercise because I would be terrified of gaining weight. But sometimes life gets in the way. For the most part, I have been careful about what I ate. But I made cookies last weekend, and I ate some. Not ALL THE COOKIES, just a normal amount. I've worked out every day, not an increased amount like I intended, but my normal amount. In short, I have lived my life (wow, that sounded more dramatic than I intended). Whether I intended it to or not, my lack of scale has not controlled my life, eating, and exercise habits.

It's been freeing to feel strong and in control of my body, and not have to worry about a number wrecking that feeling. I think it is interesting (and somewhat ironic) to realize that I let my weight control me at over 300 lbs but also at less than half that number, for very different reasons and in very different ways, but yet at both extremes I allowed my weight to control my life. I know now that I am doing what is right for my body, fueling it with the right foods and exercising in a healthy way, and for once, that is truly enough. I am at peace for the most part, whether I lose weight at the end of this or not (but of course, duh, I hope I lose weight lol). While the scale may not reflect my effort, I feel like as I close out my 3rd year, I have fought for and learned some very valuable lessons.

The break-up of my scale and me: It's not you, it's me finally realizing you're terrible for me

I'm breaking up with my scale. The scale and I have a long angst-ridden relationship. You can read about it in Tales from the scale: Confessions of a weigh-in addict and Holding my scale hostage under the bathroom sink. Seriously, you should read them; they're pretty entertaining, if somewhat disturbing, if I do say so myself (and I do). Sometimes it comes as a revelation to me that some, if not most, people can go weeks or months at a time without weighing themselves. The mere thought of going that long without weighing makes me shudder. It also is somewhat of a revelation that most people can step on a scale at any time of the day, after eating drinking, whatever, and not care if they have on a heavy sweater or if they went to the bathroom before or if they have water retention....blah, blah, blah. I put so much thought into it. I'm fed up with it. I'm fed up with me...more specifically how I continue to let the scale dictate how I feel. I can feel fantastic after a week of working out and eating great and all that can vanish with one step on the scale. And on the other hand, I can feel great for losing weight when reating a mere 800 calories a day while running way too much. That's just messed up. I don't want a number to dictate how I feel. I want to decide how I feel. I want to know that I treated my body right, and have that be enough, number on the scale be damned.

With that said, I will not be weighing myself until my 3 year anniversary of when I started all this (still not sure what to call it since it is much more to me than a mere "weight loss" anniversary) on June 26. That's about 3.5 weeks away. This scares me and that is how I know it is exactly what I should be doing. Usually the things that really scare me end up being exactly what is best for me. It's pretty risky too since I am involved in a weight loss competition that also ends on that date. But even if I lose the competition, even if I don't really lose weight (hopefully I don't gain!), I think taking a break from the scale is more important than all that. I think it will help me really realize that that number is just that, a number, and it in no way defines me. It's ironic that I've spent so much of this journey losing weight and having a number define me, as in "I'm Kristen who's lost 168 lbs," only to recognize at the very end that the number is the least important part of it all. I want to be "Kristen who's healthy, fit, and happy."

News flash: Doctors don't know everything

As a nurse, I know that doctors don't know everything more than the general public realizes. Yet, I still managed to make myself believe that when I went to my physical today, my doctor would have a magical answer for my weight loss woes. He didn't. He told me things I've heard a million times before: more strength training (done), more protein (done), more smaller meals (done), different kinds of cardio (done), get more sleep (ummm, not done, but I like my early morning workouts too much to swing this one). The one useful thing he did tell me was that when you've lost as much weight as I have, your biochemistry is permanently altered in a way that is different from "normal" people's, and weight loss becomes much more complicated than calories in/calories out. They don't know why this is, and they have no way to change it. While this is disappointing to say the least, it is at least somewhat of a relief to finally understand more about why I am not losing weight despite burning many more calories than I eat per day. It drove me crazy the way the math just wasn't adding up!

My doctor gave me the speech I've become accustomed to over the past year or so. I hear a version of it from many people, and I always have a mixed reaction to it. He told me I needed to be proud of all that I had accomplished, and be proud of being able to maintain my weight. He said that he doubted 1 out of 1000 of his patients could do what I have done. He said I was very, very, healthy and looked great right now. You're probably thinking, who wouldn't want to hear a speech like that? I mean, it's really flattering! So yeah, part of me likes this speech a lot. But part of me gets frustrated by it. I am well aware that what I have done is pretty darn amazing and I am proud of myself. But me being proud of myself doesn't take away the fact that I know I can accomplish more. It doesn't take away the fact that while I have lost a massive amount of weight, I still have a bit more to lose. It's not like I have body dysmorphia and weigh 100 lbs and think I still look fat. I legitimately still have more weight to lose. But it's like all anyone wants to tell me is how I'm good where I'm at. So yes, that is frustrating. I need someone to help me figure out how to lose this weight without making me feel like I'm being crazy or too extreme for wanting to lose it.

While I'm on the subject of doctors, every time the topic of my weight comes up nowadays at my visit, I am slightly mystified. Because this topic does come up every single visit, even though I haven't dropped any significant weight in nearly a year. Not only do all the doctors in that practice congratulate me for my accomplishment all the time, but they also talk about it to the rest of my family when they come in for a visit! Again, not that it's a bad thing at all; everybody loves compliments! But here's why I get mystified: when I weighed well over 300 lbs, when I had pre-diabetes, joint pain, fatty liver disease, high blood pressure, and sleep apnea all at age 27, the topic of my weight was never discussed. And I do mean never. I can't recall one instance when it was brought up. We discussed medication and the need for a sleep study, but never the single underlying cause of all of those conditions. And I believe that is inexcusable. I get that it's an uncomfortable topic. It's embarrassing to address for all parties involved. I even get the argument that fat people know they're fat without having a doctor tell them. But you know what? If you have previously diagnosed diabetes and refuse to manage it, you still know you have diabetes without a doctor bringing it up. Same goes for asthma or high blood pressure or any number of conditions. But the difference is, a doctor will always bring up those conditions. Every single time. I find it reprehensible that a condition such as obesity that will substantially reduce life expectancy and life quality is not discussed due to it being uncomfortable. Or maybe just because doctors don't think it will do any good. To that I say, you never know until you try. You never know when a person is at their wit's end and ready to make a change. It baffles me that we are so willing to throw drugs at diseases such as the ones I had when losing even a small percentage of weight usually at least improves or even eliminates them all. I know I personally completely eliminated all of my problems I listed above by the time I had lost about 50 lbs and was still significantly overweight. I know that some conditions do require medications, but many conditions can be treated with simple lifestyle changes. Often these changes are not discussed because it is much easier to write a prescription.

Obesity is a medical condition and it deserves to be treated like one. Its origins are multi-faceted and don't just boil down to "Stop eating crap and get off the couch, you lazy bum!" We need to lose the stigma attached to obesity and start discussing it in a non-judgemental, helpful, and supportive way. And I feel like as someone who has personally experienced obesity and also has experience in the medical field, I am in a perfect position to educate both people having issues with this problem and also their doctors. As is the case in many areas, I think education and compassion go a long way towards solving this problem.

If you do what you always did, you'll get what you've always gotten

It's confession time. I've always prided myself on being 100% honest (even if it wasn't exactly flattering to me) in this blog, and there is no reason for me to stop now. I've gotten crazy again lately, and seem to have forgotten that this is a way of life, not a diet or a race. I have been undereating (usually only about 800 calories a day) and overtraining (running up to 20 miles a day some days). Then on my treat days, I've been indulging a bit too much because I felt so deprived the rest of the week. In my frustration to lose this last bit of weight, I have adopted an "ends justifies the means" attitude, and it is has not been healthy at all (or for that matter, effective either!). I thought it showed my dedication that I was willing to do whatever it took and make whatever sacrifices that I needed to make. It seemed only logical that the more work and sacrifice I was willing to put in, the better results I would see.

It's the old all or nothing attitude all over again. It will always be a part of me, one that I must guard against. I have not been vigilant about it lately. I thought I could save moderation for when I "finished." But you know, it just doesn't work that way. My stubborn mind insisted that calories in/calories out would prevail and I would lose weight, as I was obviously burning many more calories than I was taking in. I mean, it's basic math, right?!? Part of my brain still insists on believing it, despite the lack of results on the scale. Because even with all that effort, all that sacrifice, I'm not losing weight. And that drives me crazy, and makes me act crazy.

When I push past the stubborn, crazy part of my brain, the rational part of me knows that I have stalled my metabolism. My body thinks it is starving, because with all that exercise and that few calories, for all intents and purposes, it is! And a body that is starving is going to hold onto every spare bit of weight that it can. I've not been being kind to my body at all. I should have been looking at food as fuel, not as the enemy. Instead of making me stronger, my extreme attitude has just made me very tired lately. My knees and hips hurt from all that running, a problem I have not had since I was 300 lbs.

I am ashamed of myself because I know better. What will it take to drive the message in my stubborn head?!? I feel like a hypocrite too because I tell others that it is about making a sustainable lifestyle change, and I haven't been doing that lately. I let myself believe that the end goal was weighing 140 lbs, when the end goal should really be about me being happy and healthy. I mean, does it really count as a victory to be 140 lbs if you mistreat your body to get to that weight? It would be better to be carrying a few extra pounds like I am right now and be doing what is right for my body.

But you know what? Everybody makes mistakes. Everyone gets off track at some point. The important part is recognizing where you've gone wrong and correcting it. After all, isn't the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results? So undereating and overtraining isn't cutting it for me. I need to switch things up, and so I've decided to try Chris Powell's carb-cycling methods. As a general rule, I don't like "diets", but this really isn't one. It focuses on clean eating, like I do anyway (when I'm not starving myself, that is), but has you alternate high and low carb days, and have one treat day. I already know that going low carb is effective for me, but I also know that I have an intense love affair with bread, and so swearing off carbs entirely is not realistic (nor healthy) for me. Alternating high and low carb days revs up your metabolism because it doesn't know what to expect.

I felt like Chris Powell was reading my mind as I read his book. He asked if I was undereating. He asked if I was overtraining. He told me that all of this combined to stall my metabolism. Honestly, I already knew I had stalled my metabolism, but it was nice to see it in writing. With his plan, you eat 5 times a day. You can count calories, but you don't have to. You just eat the right portion sizes, using your hand as a guide. On high carb days, you eat a protein and carb at every meal with no fats. On low carb days, you eat a protein and fat and vegetable at every meal, no carbs. And every day, you have a protein and carb at breakfast. I'll admit, this has proven hard for me, because of course I want to know exactly how many carbs I should be eating. As far as calorie counting goes, it is so ingrained in me now, I doubt I could stop if I wanted to.

It's been tough so far to eat so often. I feel like I'm eating so much, but really on low carb days I'm eating around 1200 calories and high carb days I'm eating 1500 calories, just like I'm supposed to. Sometimes it makes me feel panicky to eat that many calories (and yes, I know it's really not a lot!), especially since I haven't weighed in yet, but I know that is just my crazy thinking. But it also makes me feel good to know that I am finally correctly fueling my body again, no matter what that fickle scale may say.

I think I'm also going to scale back on the running, and incorporate other forms of cardio like bike riding and tennis and soccer, as well as strength training. Running is still my favorite, but I also don't really want to need a hip or knee replacement when I'm 50.

I lied to myself lately. I told myself that it didn't matter how I reached my goal, just that I reached it. But it does matter how I reach my final goal. Not just because of my health (though that is very important!), but because of my integrity. Do I really want to know that I lost nearly 200 lbs by doing it the healthy way, except at the very end because I got impatient?  No, I want to finish knowing that it's not about sacrifices or depriving myself, not about driving myself crazy with counting calories and carbs and miles run. It's about living a healthy, happy, and fulfilling life. It matters how I finish this because it shows who I am and what I stand for.