As of Thanksgiving, yes I weighed myself on Thanksgiving, I am down another nine pounds which, for those of us paying attention, means I am down fifty pounds in total. From 276 to 226 in five months. I feel pretty good about it.

I have been watching weight loss reality TV shows, mostly because it motivates me to do it the right way, and because I exercise while watching them. They make me glad that I am doing this slowly because the chances of gaining it all back in a year are so much lower this way. As it is I keep being weirded right out by pictures of me. It doesn't look like me sometimes and I am not even halfway through it yet. If I had lost this much weight, just a little over a third of my intended goal, in five weeks instead of five months, I imagine the psychological impact would be even more severe. After an entire lifetime of thinking of myself as a great big, fat guy...yeah, it is going to be years before I think of myself as someone who is only overweight (a milestone that I will actually hit at 204 pounds, so, right around the corner). And yet again years beyond that to think of myself as "normal."
The last time I was under two hundred, I was probably in middle school. I have been overweight or obese my entire memorable life. How in the world am I supposed to acclimate to not being something I have always been? How do you get used to "normal" when normal for you is something so much different?

These days I am approaching the upper end of American average size, about a 14 in ladies' sizes. Around a Large. And though a series of Xes no longer precedes my size, I still feel like someone who would be more suited to a 3X than an L. I like to think that I am not at all defined by my clothing size but when I pulled a sweater dress off the rack and I held it out, looking at the label "Large"...I thought, there's no way I am just a large, this looks way too small. Trying it on, it fit, I then thought, I'm a Large? That's nuts! I'm a large! The thought pattern sort of upset and amused me at the same time. I am not my clothing size. I know this, but when a great deal of my time involves working out, researching diet and weight-loss science...of course my focus is a little skewed at the moment. I often gauge time passed in cardio blocks. The two or three hours on my bike are broken up into interval and moderate phases. My life is a strange place right now. I am focused. I have a goal. I am Losing Weight, practically a full-time occupation. So it makes sense that measures of my success toward that goal will feel rather personally defining but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I am used to feeling like so much more than an L. Or whatever.

In two more months, or I hope by New Year, I will be at my halfway mark. I have about one hundred thirty pounds to lose overall to get to my personal ideal weight. But the name of this blog is Century Ride, so, 100 (106 exactly to no longer be classed as "overweight" according to the BMI calculators). And as of Thanksgiving I am halfway there. I had a little celebration on the scale at my friend's house where I had snuck a little weigh-in, still not having a scale of my own.

It is something to celebrate.

Even greater a milestone to celebrate?
My arms are strong enough and I am lighter enough that I can bike out of the saddle for a minute at a time at full resistance. Hills, I'mma eff you up come Spring.

Also in the great news category? I interval-ran 4.2 miles on Thanksgiving. It felt great. I run now. I am a runner.

Life is good.

Whoever invented walking lunges needs to be taken outside behind the woodshed and shot.

Guess who <3s wearing pearls during a good workout?

That'd be me.

I never realize I am wearing them until I have to take them off for the shower.
Such a lady.


PostScript: That sweat is from 12 little minutes of bodyrocking.
I feel wiped and pumped at the same time.
Fitness rules.

Update for the masses, for posterity, for me

October is over already? WTHeck?

I weighed in a little while ago and, having just eaten and it was not first thing in the morning, I was 235 which is awesome considering I started over 270. No fads, no crunches, no gimmicks...okay, a few crunches, and I'm down 41 pounds since July. About ten pounds a month, not too bad, eh?
And that was about two weeks ago so who knows now?..I know that my pants are falling off again. I have zero pants that fit. And zero workout gear.

That's become sort of a big self-perception hurdle. Losing weight but not being able to afford new clothes. Because you feel kick-ass right after a workout but then you have to put on the same old clothes that don't fit and you feel like a hobo.
And knowing that even if I do scrape the forty bucks together for a new pair of pants, they're not gonna fit in a month or so anyway. Disposable pants. Grr. And workout gear? Isn't the point, if I am doing it right, to lose weight? So I size myself right out of the eighty dollar moisture wicking jersey and the hundred dollar sports bra and the sixty-five dollar bike shorts. So frustrating.
But you can't complain about this phenomenon to most because what they hear is still just, "Woe is me, I'm losing weight," and they want to smack you.

I am on a rest-ish day and I am starting a recovery week today. My neck has been not so happy with me lately and I am planning on starting an outdoor walk/jogging routine soon; I want to give myself a clean bill of health before getting into that. Calories appropriately reduced though I think I am going to have to break from my desk and eat a real lunch soon—the banana I had on the way back from the grocery store just isn't cutting it. I still have that tendency to just not eat if I don't have to. If there's no one around to notice, if I am not starving from a hard workout, any other reason that seems rational at the time but totally isn't. I suppose it's just one of those things. Once an eating disorder, always an eating disorder. I just have to be aware of it and do what I can to rise above.

So, tomato soup and spinach, I think. Because I am all out of asparagus.