Measuring success (and NSVs)

Someone in a Facebook weight-loss surgery support group asked if she was the only one not worried about losing weight quickly. I replied, "I want to be healthy. I'm working on creating healthy, sustainable habits — so I'm not concerned with how quickly or how slowly the weight drops. I'm concerned with how I feel and what I'm able to do now. My scale was up 4 ounces this morning, but this day is a success because I just ran a whole lap for the first time since high school (I'm 41). THAT matters way more to me than 4 ounces on the scale."

I see so many people in my support groups who are worried about the scale and focus on it exclusively. "Don't give the scale power over you. You're worth more than that," I told someone yesterday. 

If I measured my success by my scale, I'd feel like a failure today. Instead, I choose to measure my success by things I can control (what I eat and whether I exercise); by how I feel physically (energized) and mentally (confident, happy); by what I can do (I just ran a lap! I just ran for 3 minutes 23 seconds straight!); and by non-scale victories (NSVs). 

Some recent NSVs:
* Monday evening, my husband said I look "professional" riding my bike now. We've been riding the past few weeks, and I've gone from feeling very shaky to steady. And my legs are getting used to the work. 
* A pair of pants and a skirt that I bought to shrink into now fit. The skirt is super exciting because it's an XL — I fit in a bottom that isn't plus size! (I started in a 3X.)
* My favorite ring from college almost fits.
* Yesterday evening, we went for a walk with the dogs, and I suggested we walk UP the biggest hill in the neighborhood. I didn't need a break this time, and I kept a steadier pace than last time. 

Do the thing you think you cannot do

This morning, I'm drinking my coffee, comforting two scared dogs in a thunderstorm and looking on Pinterest. I was looking at a friend's board called "Being Better," and I came across this quote from Eleanor Roosevelt: "You must do the thing you think you cannot do."

You can't move forward when you're stuck in fear. You have to ignore the fear, at least for a little while.

A whole lot of my journey forward is about doing exactly that. Practice makes it easier, but in the beginning, it seemed impossible. It's something I've practiced with therapists over the years: being at least a little comfortable being uncomfortable. And then in my yoga class this spring, I learned to practice being present with the discomfort.

At one point, surgery seemed impossible. Being healthy seemed impossible. Being fit definitely seemed impossible.

Feeling trapped is hellish. As I've said before, I felt trapped by my body and my size, by being so out of shape and unhealthy. I'd reached a place where I couldn't see the way forward. I see now that when I asked my doctor for help with my weight, I was ignoring the fear, just for a few moments. It can start small and grow.

I saw a meme about pushing yourself just a little bit further, and then a little bit further again, and again. That's what I do with the fear: push it just a little bit at a time.

That pushing is also how I approach fitness, I realized this morning. "I'll run as far as I can," I tell myself when I start a lap. I feel good but then pretty quickly start to get tired. "Half a lap," I say. "You can stop at half a lap." I make it half a lap and then set the next goal. "I'll go to that yellow mark." It becomes clear I can do that, so "I'll go to that white mark." 

At some point, I run out of steam and really do need a break. But inevitably, I find I can go further, last longer, than my mind thought. I'm pushing myself and finding I can do things I think I cannot do. That's an amazing feeling.

6-month check-in

This afternoon I had my 6-month check-in at the hospital. I saw Erin, the bariatric nurse, who's wonderful; she weighed me and took my vital signs. Then I saw my surgeon's nurse, LeighAnne, who's also wonderful. She examined my abdomen (no hernias, happily, but there's a bit of a yeast infection in my belly button. They told me what to use and are documenting it; if it's a recurring, frequent problem, health insurance might pay for excess skin removal down the road) and said my progress is right on track. Then I saw the surgeon, Dr. S, who's also wonderful and was happy with my progress. 

After, LeighAnne put in an order for blood work so they can check my nutrient levels. I was confused about whether they measure my loss of excess weight from my highest weight or from surgery weight. She said my highest — but she kept saying I'd lost 50 pounds, not 75. She looked it up in the computer and saw that she'd been using numbers from my last appointment in April. When she looked at my numbers today, she went from being happy to thrilled. I've lost more than 50% of my excess body weight.

Comparison

That was such a relief and a boost for me. In spite of my attempts to not compare my weight loss with other people's, I inevitably do — and I come up short. Someone in a support group posted the quote "Comparison is the thief of joy," and I liked it so much I ordered a print of it to hang in my house, a visual reminder of owning my journey. 

I'm averaging 10 pounds a month, which I read somewhere was average. When I don't compare my loss with anyone else's, I'm thrilled. When I start comparing, I don't think I'm doing well enough. Daily I see posts in support groups from people bemoaning their "slow" losses of 20 pounds the first month (I lost 17) or 40-50 pounds in 3 months (I lost 35). 

Lesson: Don't compare. 

Real life, and in it for the long haul

I was supposed to see my dietician today, but my insurance doesn't cover it, and the out-of-pocket cost is a couple hundred dollars. Instead, LeighAnne asked how my eating is. I replied honestly that I make healthy choices about 80% of the time; she said that's real life, and that's what the program hopes for. I told her I can do anything for a short time, but I'm working to build healthy habits that will be the foundation for the rest of my life; she said that's the attitude of someone who keeps off weight for the long term. 

I left feeling like a success. Hey, I guess I am.

Ripple effects

One of the fascinating things about this journey is how the effects from my weight-loss surgery ripple out into all other areas of my life. Regaining my sense of freedom (from not feeling trapped by my body or my size) and having increased confidence opens up possibilities.

One example: I've started writing again. Since I was 10, I've identified myself as a writer, even in the long years when I've written very little. It feels great to write, and I even got brave enough to send off the first few chapters to some friends for review. 

Another example: This past weekend, I went to Connecticut for a Flickr meetup. As a morbidly obese person, I would have been too self-conscious and I'd have worried about getting hot and tired. I would have missed out on meeting in real life three fantastic women I've been online friends with for a couple of years.

Last night as Paul and I rode our bikes, I told him I'm sad that I would have missed out before. He was quiet for a minute and then said seriously, "I look at it as a joyful thing that you were able to do it now — looking forward, not back." I married a wise man. 

The weekend had some NSVs, too. 
* Friday night, we went out to supper at a tavern in Mystic. It was crowded and we had to wait for a table. When a table opened up, there was not much room between it and the table behind it — but I fit. 

* Saturday we walked around Mystic Seaport. It wasn't hot, but it was humid. I was sticky and sweaty, but not miserable or self conscious. 




 

Digging deep

I've gone off track. I haven't been exercising as much. I'm eating too many calories and too many carbs. I'm not drinking enough water. 

"Sometimes you just got to dig really deep and find your strength. YOU CAN DO THIS!!!!!" someone posted in a support group last night. It was directed at someone else, but it struck me. 

Many times I've responded to posts by people who've gone off track and don't know what to do. I've always known I'd probably say it to myself one day, and now I am. 

"Reread (or write if you never did) the list of reasons why you had surgery. Measure your food. Eat 2-4 oz. of lean protein first, then 1/2 cup veggies, then 1/4 cup starch. Move your body. Drink lots of water. Good luck! You can do this!"

Why did I have surgery? Because I wanted to live a long, healthy life and spend as many years with my husband as I can. I didn't want to end up using a cane or in a wheelchair in my 50s. I was tired of being tired all the time. I was sad that I missed out on things that required walking or other physical activity. I was tired of being out of shape, and I felt scared because walking for just 20 minutes caused serious pain in my back and hips. I was tired of being ashamed. I was tired of not having many options for clothes. I was tired of worrying if I would fit in a booth or a public restroom. I was worried I was burying myself in an early grave. I was tired of always feeling self conscious and knowing I was the biggest, by a lot, person around. I was tired of worrying about my health and feeling out of control.

Since my surgery about 6 and a half months ago, I've gained a sense of freedom that was long lost. I don't feel that my body or my size hold me back anymore. My physical fitness has increased dramatically, and I enjoy moving my body — and moving doesn't hurt. I'm able to do more things with my husband. I feel like a normal person. I'm not self conscious all the time. I have more energy. I'm improving my health.

I took a vacation day today and am dedicating it to refocusing. I'm remembering why I chose surgery: for my health. The decisions I make today will be bounced up against that: Does doing this increase my health? I'm going for a walk. I'm making healthy food choices. I'm drinking water. I'm seeing my therapist (regularly scheduled appointment but excellent timing). I'm remembering who I am now.

Fitness NSVs

It's a perfect day to share some fitness non-scale victories (NSVs).
* Yesterday in my training session, I did 50 seconds straight of jumping jacks, high knees and butt kicks. I've been doing a full minute of squats for quite a while. (My trainer Sal's 5-minute warm up is 1 minute each of jumping jacks, high knees, butt kicks, squats and burpees.We haven't touched burpees yet, but I told Sal that I tried a burpee at home.) When I started my sessions about 4 months ago, I could do about 10 seconds straight of jumping jacks. 
* Last week I went twice to the track to practice running, and my husband and I went again this morning. Today I ran 2 minutes 15 seconds, 2 minutes 30 seconds, then 2 minutes 15 again, and I made it three-quarters of a lap. (Last week, my longest was 1 minute 50 seconds, and a little more than half a lap.)
* After the track, we came home and took the dogs for a mile-and-a-half walk(in the heat). 
* Last weekend, my husband checked over our bikes, and this evening, we went for our first ride. As a kid, I loved riding my bike, but I haven't ridden for years. I've worried about sharing the road with cars, shifting gears, keeping my balance. All of those things went fine. After a slightly shaky start in our driveway and down the hill, my body remembered what to do, and I grinned. 

Biking is harder on the muscles than I remember — but the feeling of the wind in my face was exactly as I remembered.

Scale and non-scale victories

After a few weeks of the scale not moving much, it started again, and as of today, I've lost more than 76 pounds from my highest. That highest was almost exactly a year ago, when I asked my PCP for help with my weight. 

I've been looking forward to the scale goal of 75 pounds lost as one of the major milestones (50, 75, 100). And it feels great!

As my reward, I'm having my car detailed. I hit 75 pounds yesterday, I called today and the appointment is tomorrow — I'm not wasting time. My car hasn't been cleaned in 3 years, and we have dogs. Furry dogs. Furry dogs who shed. A lot. 

My best NSVs for the week both are fitness related. 
* Saturday morning, Paul and I went to the middle school track. I ran three times, from 1 minute 30 seconds to 1 minute 50 seconds, and made it a little more than halfway around the track without stopping. I was really proud I did it three times.
* Our short loop in the neighborhood is twice as long as our old short loop, up from .8 mile to 1.5 miles.

6 months post-op

Today marks 6 months (6 four-week months) post-op. 

I feel fantastic. I'm down 71 pounds total, 55 since surgery. I remain off 3 prescriptions. My walks are up to 2 miles, and I've started running a little (a very little: three 1-minute laps, one 1-minute-30-second lap). I've gone hiking, walked up the big hills (which I used to avoid) in my neighborhood and gotten back into yard work. I know I've said all this before, but to me, it bears repeating. I have my life back, my freedom back, and I'm so very grateful for my surgery and this process. 

The scale hasn't moved much the past few weeks, and, as always, I'm focusing on my NSVs, how I feel and what I can do. It's a challenge, but I'm managing pretty well. 

Next up: getting back on my bike. I'm thinking this weekend.