Week 3, Day 6

I just got back from a brisk 30-minute walk up and down the aisles at the supermarket (brisk for me -- still not what a "normal" person would consider lively at all, but I'm not giving up just because I'm slow right now). Got a bunch of green onions to put in the soup and a couple of bananas (that will NOT go in the soup!).

The only sections I purposely avoided were the bakery and the soda and chips area. But it was pretty easy to avoid them. After my yummy splurge last night, I wasn't craving anything sweet. Even the candy bars at the checkout line didn't tempt me. So now I'm pretty well convinced that allowing myself a splurge once a week will actually help me instead of being a stumbling block.

So now the beef is simmering in a mixture of water, onions, garlic, salt, and bouillon. I'll let that stay on the stove on low heat for a few hours, then add the veggies and remaining water closer to the end of the process. At the very end, I'll toss in a couple of hands of noodles. Then voila, 8 quarts of soup for dinner tonight and lunches this coming week.

It's all so simple to make. I don't know why I got out of the habit of making soups and instead into the habit of just grabbing a quick burger at Sonic. I guess that's how the weight creeps on -- before you notice, bad habits sneak in and like a snowball at top of the hill, but the time things have gone noticeably downhill, you realize you butt is huge and you can't hardly move anymore.

I had more than simple bad habits working against me, though. Here's a bit of my story:

Years of taking prednisone because of my asthma put about a hundred pounds on. I remember watching the first 20 pounds come on in the first month and being appalled, not only at the weight but at the speed at which it arrived. But the prednisone made it so I could breathe, so I figured a few extra pounds weren't all that bad. I was wrong, of course.

Then when Adam was going through so much surgery and so many months, day after day, of grueling physical therapy, I kept my sanity by medicating myself with chocolate. What he went through breaks some moms -- I've seen it happen. But not me. I held on and held the torch to light the way as I helped others make their way through it all, too. I blogged, I sat with families during their child's surgeries, I spent hours answering questions by email. I went to DC and lobbied for health care legislative change for families with special needs children. The Family Opportunity Act, passed in 2006, was inspired by our family. I spoke at seminars at National Childrens Hospital, teaching parents with special needs kids how to advocate for their children. And I worked full-time, homeschooled my kids, and raised my boys as a single parent.

I was described as a "dynamo" and a "tower of strength". But the truth was far different. I was scared and weak. I knew if I slowed down or thought about it all too long, I would simply sit down, start crying, and never get up again. If it hadn't been for the love of friends, the support of my mom and dad (Mom came out to Maryland for all the major surgeries and stayed for about a month each time), a great job, and a wonderful church family, then not even chocolate could have helped. I wouldn't have made it and couldn't have faked those more noble qualities as well as I did. But still...scared and weak made chocolate a necessity. And over time that made my butt big.

Once Adam's medical needs were essentially over, I didn't fare well. After seven years working for the same company, the job I loved completely fell apart. With a major asthma episode involving broken ribs and an unfortunate 4-day stay in the emergency room of a hospital in Portland, Oregon, my health was messed up. And somehow I had to figure out how to redefine and rebuild my life. Instead, I fell apart. I moved back to the Midwest and lived with my parents for two years. I tried to take the opportunity to lose weight then, but it didn't work. It wasn't until 2005 that I was able to move out on my own and face a new definition of "normal".

But I haven't really felt good since then. I haven't had energy or focus. I hurt more and more, and can move less and less. And I've been ashamed of the way I look. In fact, it's been over 10 years since I've had a mirror in my home. I just haven't been able to stand the sight of the truth.

But one night in Sept 2007 I was flipping TV channels when I came across the Biggest Loser show. It was amazing. I saw people who looked just like me -- daring to sow their ripples and rolls and waddles. I saw them struggle to eat right. I saw them work hard to exercise and burn fat while building some muscles. And I started working right along with them. Seven months later I was 60 pounds lighter.

Stresses at work too numerable, weird, and sad to bother discussing here made any thoughts of health and fitness seem almost laughable. Eighteen-hour days with very few breaks during any day made exercise nearly impossible and quick eating of whatever was handy nearly a necessity. Far too many of those 60 pounds came back. So really, in many ways one of the best things to happen to me was when the company I was working for finally went down the toilet enough for me to be laid off.

That happened in February of this year. It took me a bit of work to assimilate the bizarre work life of the previous few years. There was some hurt and anger. Some sense of "what now?". And a bit of depression at feeling once again like a failure. In my late 40-something years, I should be more settled, better set in my life than I am. I'm getting really tired of continually starting over. But I have come to the conclusion that I am talented, skilled, and intelligent. Bad things happen to good people. And I deserve to be treated well, so it's high time I start doing that -- it MUST begin with me or I'll never be able to legitimately expect anyone else to treat me well.

So here I am. Self-employed and self-improving. I'm not just losing weight, I'm changing my lifestyle so I can be truly healthy. In the process, my back will feel better, and though I will always have asthma, I will be able to breathe better. I will be doing my best to be here to enjoy my children and grandchildren for many years to come. And I'm expecting that those years will be filled with much more energy and zest than I have in my life right now.

So, how was YOUR day?