Category Archives: Get Serious!

The Six Month Wall

I had a realization this week and I’ve been trying to write about it for a while…but it’s been hard to put into words (even for me).  Here it goes…

I’m floundering a bit right now.  My food is in check, but I still struggle with exercise.  Why?  Honestly??  Because I don’t want to. I’m not motivated. I think about it all the time, but I can’t make myself do it.  I’m stuck.

I realized the other day that my drive started fizzling around the 6 month mark.  Originally, I blamed stress from the big re-org at work.  Not knowing if I was going to keep my job and being forced to deal with that stress without binge eating was extremely difficult.  Well, the re-org has come and gone (at least the part that directly concerned me)…and I’m still floundering.  I’m at the 8 month mark now…and I’m still not moving forward…but 6 months is where it started to fall apart.

6 months.  I’m starting to connect some dots…

I’ve shared this before in the “My Story” section, but my Dad was an alcoholic.  My Dad got sober twice in his life:  once when I was 12…and once when I was in my 20’s.  Both times, he was sober for 6 months before he started having trouble again.  In the end, he was never able to tame the demons that made him drink…and he passed at the young age of 67.

6 months was all he could muster.

Skip ahead a little bit.  In the 90’s, I had a doctor who misdiagnosed me with a medical condition I didn’t have.  She told me I would not be able to lose weight at a normal rate unless I made some serious changes.  She told me that I had to restrict myself to 750 calories a day.

Yep…you read that right:  750 calories a day.





















I joined a gym and started eating 750 calories a day.  I lost 75 pounds in just 4 months.  When I look back at that time in my life, I could just slap the crap out of that doctor.  What a quack.

I hit a wall.  My body started to rebel against my extreme diet.  I was up to an hour of aerobics a day.  I added treadmill time to that, but it didn’t do any good.  The scale would not move.  I couldn’t remove any calories from my diet because I was already eating so little.  So I continued to starve myself on my doctor’s advice…and kept trying to increase my exercise in order to lose weight.  Nothing was working.

After 2 more months of struggling, I gave up.  I started skipping the gym.  I started indulging in my old favorite foods.  That whole scenario was 6 months.

Two years ago, I began a healthy eating/fitness challenge with a buddy.  We decided to commit to 6 months because we had a wedding to attend.  Although I was successful at losing 50 pounds during those 6 months, I wasn’t really connecting with what worked for me.  My focus was more on making my buddy happy and getting approval than it was on what was really going to work for me.  I needed lasting change and I was only focused on getting approval.

The deal was to celebrate with a piece of wedding cake and get right back to it.  By the end of the night, I’d had 2 pieces of wedding cake.  On the road trip home, I indulged in all kinds of truck stop delights like moon pies…candy bars…chips.  I used the excuse that I had cramps and “needed” sugar.  I was already well out of control by the time we got back home.  Over the next year, I gained the 50 pounds back.

6 months seems to be an issue for me, doesn’t it?  It certainly was for Dad…and I am my father’s daughter through and through.

Unlike any of my past attempts to eat healthy, the last 8 months have changed me.  I’ve learned lessons that I can’t unlearn – and don’t want to.  I’ve finally connected with the fact that quitting is the dumbest thing I could possibly do.  I may slow down, I may stumble, I may have set backs…but to completely give up and start mowing moon pies and twizzlers…no, that’s never going to happen again. I’m solid on that front.

I remember feeling utterly ashamed of myself after losing control the last time.  Someone I love dearly, thinking they were helping me, unleashed their feelings about my failure to get right back to my healthy living routine.  It hurt me in a way I’m sure they did not intend.  I no longer felt like I could continue updating the people I’m closest to about my situation (Hot Mess Hubby excluded, of course).  Even now, it hurts to think back on the words that were said to me – but I believe it also helped me.  It was the catalyst that made me realize following other people’s routines and programs wasn’t going to work for me.  I realized that I needed to find my own way and connect to each and every change in a very deep, personal way if I was going to really make this work.  If that meant taking longer than some people thought I should, well…that’s just tough shit for them isn’t it?.  At the end of the day, the only person who has to live with my decisions is me.  The only agenda I have to follow is my own.












Now here I am.  I lost 45 pounds in the first 6 months of this process and I know it’s for real this time.   I am not tempted by moon pies and twizzlers, Little Debbie snack cakes, or pizza delivery every night of the week.  I have found a routine that works for me…but there’s only so far I can go on dietary changes alone.  It’s been time to add consistent exercise for a while now, yet I stand here…stuck in the road…knowing what I should do, yet unable or unwilling to do it.

While I still stand firm on not forcing myself into something that I’m not ready to do, I have to acknowledge some things.  When it comes to exercise, my head may be willing but my heart is not…and it may never be.  I think I’ve been patient long enough.  I feel like I’m reaching “critical dumb ass mode”.  At what point do I start kicking myself in the ass and forcing myself to move forward?  The line between positive, natural change and just sitting in the middle of the road while the world passes me by is a little fuzzy.

It’s time to force a little change.  I’m giving myself a little push.  The 7 Dwarfs of the Menstrual Apocalypse are gone.  Perfect timing.  Just a little push.  Or, if needed, a frigg’in shove with a sharp stick.  I’m officially more tired of not moving forward than I am afraid of forcing myself to do too much too soon.

I got up this morning ready to kick a little excess ass.  Since I have so much added weight on my body and I have been sedentary for so long, my goal this week is 15 – 20 minutes of cardio per day with a rest day on Sunday.  The goal is to start a habit, not to train for a marathon or hit the treadmill belt with an overdose of drama ala The Biggest Loser.  You won’t find me bench pressing my weight in Little Debbie Nutty Bars while the soundtrack from Rocky spurs me on to weight loss greatness.  I’m going to make these changes as normal and natural as I possibly can!

This morning I plan to ice up my water bottles and kick the Monday blues right in the ass.  I may not be so excited about exercising, but I’m excited about getting myself through this damn brick wall.

Come hell or high water, I’m coming on THROUGH.


Believe it.



Ready to Stand on the Podium!

I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but the 2012 Olympics are going on in London right now. 🙂 Hot Mess Hubby and I always enjoy watching the Olympics and hearing all the amazing stories of so many inspiring athletes from so many different, interesting countries – but somewhere around little Gabby Douglas’ history making medal win, I remembered something really special that I haven’t thought about in a long, long time.

I was an Olympian.

In the summer of 1972, my BFF and I spent our days rollerskating on the corner by my house. If you asked us, though, we weren’t rollerskating. We were were graceful ice skaters at the winter Olympics. We spent hours perfecting the art of swooping around that corner and gracefully plucking imaginary flowers up off the ice as we waved to our adoring fans. The judges, of course, gave us perfect scores.

Now it’s…a few years later. 🙂 I’m all grown up with a house and a hubby (boys…gross!) and a job and everything. And yet when I flop on the couch after a long day and turn on the games, I’m that little girl again. I’m the amazing Dianne…the super talented girl who’s figure skating was so great, she brought on world peace with her glorious spins and twirls set to the theme from Star Wars. (Hey…don’t judge me…I’m a proud geek!)

I’ll never win a gold medal…or a silver or a bronze. I’ll never skate the rink and pick up flowers and stuffed animals. I’ll never sit on the bench with my coach, waving to my family on camera while I wait for my perfect scores to roll in. But I can still live part of that dream while I watch today’s Olympians chase their dreams. I’ve been on the beam with Gabby Douglas and in the pool with Michael Phelps. I’ve been on the track with Oscar Pistorius and Noor Hussain Al-Malki. So many countries, so many inspiring stories…and I’m a part of them all as I sit in my living room and watch their amazing stories unfold before my eyes.

Sometimes these amazing athletes make me feel like a bit of a slacker – especially Oscar Pistorius, the South African runner who also happens to be a double amputee. And there he goes flying down the track with those amazing legs. Awe inspiring. After the plateau that came and went and has returned again…I feel like a slacker next to these people who charge head first after their dreams.

They make me realize, though, that while I will never have a gold medal…I’m in my own Olympics. My events are the Treadmill 30 minute speed walk, the Morning Turkey Bacon Grill, and the Resistance Band Couch Routine. But I’m not racing against other people. I’m competing against temptation…distraction…weakness. I’m running toward confidence…strength…and a very personal, heartfelt glory.

It’s been a long time since I’ve used my muscles. I think it’s time they made a comeback. I think of Olympians past, present, and future. If they can do it, I can do it. Only I don’t have to go to London. I can do this from my own living room.


Here’s to the Olympian in us all. May she…or he…never stop reaching for the gold. (Not the gold crushed velvet couch I’m sitting on with my brother…that’s just my Mom’s groovy decorating!)

2012 London Olympics: Commemorative Collection [Blu-ray]

Waking Up Human

Hey y’all!

Well, if you “like” my Facebook Fan Page, you’re pretty much up to speed with all the decisions I’ve been tossing around lately…including how to get my butts in gear when it comes to making exercise my new BFF.  If you’re not up to speed, well…lemme fill y’all in on what I attempted to do today!

Let me just preface this by saying that I really enjoy working out in the morning and getting it out of the way.  I love going through my normal day knowing that I am DONE for the day.  Thinking that this would be of utmost importance to me in making exercise a solid habit, I decided to make it happen by adjusting my schedule enough to get up and work out before work.  This morning, I woke up at 3:30 am in order to start my new habit.  No, I’m not kidding.  I really woke up in the middle of the night.  Such is my dedication to reducing the number of asses I have to cram in my pants.

Okay, that’s not exactly true.  The alarm went off at 3:30 am.  I woke up with a bad headache…and I moaned and groaned and hit snooze for 30 minutes before I actually rolled out of bed.  Then I sat on the couch, rubbing my forehead, trying to shake off the headache (I’ve had them a lot lately).  Then I turned on the news to try and get my mind off the pain.  Nope.  The headache evolved into a migraine…and my plans to get on the treadmill were scrapped.  It was all I could do to open my eyes enough to put my make up on this morning.  Yowch.

Eventually, I took a prescription migraine pill to get rid of it…and I’m feeling fine now, but I realized something today:  getting my workout done at the beginning of the day is nowhere near as important as waking up at a time that’s much more friendly to humans.  LOL.  There are a few things I hold dear:  the Hot Mess Hubby, our fur persons, family, friends, all y’all (as we say in Texas), and my effing SLEEP!

…and Robert Downey Jr.  Some things are sacred.

I’m glad I tried it, but I’m not going to do it again.  After the pain cleared my head, I realized that it’s more important to me to ease into my day than it is to get on the treadmill just to get it over with.  I realized that this change will be easier if I am getting tough with myself in the afternoon than first thing in the morning when I’m all groggy and stomping around with hair that makes me look like a reject from A Flock of Seagulls.  Priorities.

I think farmers even sleep later than 3:30 am.  What was I thinking?  I may not lose weight as fast as some…I may not lose it as dramatically as a contestant on The Biggest Loser…but there can be no doubt as to my commitment to sniff out the very best routes through all the roadblocks on the road ahead.

When I got home today, I got on the treadmill.  It was nice to be awake and un-pissy.

Forward motion.






Ready for Some GOOD Change!

I’ve been quiet for a while, haven’t I?  Did y’all think I turned back to dark side?  🙂  Were you picturing me huddled in a dark corner of my closet with a box of Little Debbies and a bottle of milk?  🙂  Well, you can relax…I’m still standing!  (And no, I didn’t eat any Little Debbies!)

The last two months have been rough.  The plateau.  Lots of stress at work with a bankruptcy and reorganization.  I didn’t realize how much the latter was affecting me until recently when I began pulling clumps of hair out in the shower and getting random eye twitch attacks.  I was more worried about someone thinking I was gett’in sassy with the winking when I should have been at least a little concerned about where all this was coming from.  I usually only get a migraine a month (centered around the 7 Dwarfs of the Menstrual Apocalypse), but I had 4 in June…and I’ve had 4 already this month.  Sometimes I can be thick headed when it comes to my own well being.

I thought the work stress would be alleviated when I recently learned that I was not going to be laid off, however there’s another detail that is threatening to suck my will to live while I’m at work.  I’m trying to focus on being grateful.  🙂

The problem is that I’m too awesome for my own good.  LOL.  Okay, actually, it’s just that I’m not eating my way through this stressful time.  In fact, I never thought to come up with an alternative for stress eating…so my body decided to have more migraines, lose some hair, and not sleep even when drugged up with Ambien.  Great!

I ended up going to the doctor on Friday.  After he stopped doing the happy dance over the fact that I’ve lost 45 pounds in 6 months, he gave me a complete physical…and all is well.  He confirmed that this is, in fact, just stress…and suggested…wait for it….wait for it….that I exercise in order to help alleviate it.

Yeah, well, I’m not exactly motivated to do that right now…but I’m going to give it another try.  90% because I need to…and 10% because I want to.  That’s not a good combination, but it’s what’s in my heart…and I’ve lost my way a million times before because I’ve failed to be honest.  So that’s me being honest.

I’ve asked my new boss if I can change to later work hours and she’s agreed (she’s a sweetie, from what I can tell…I like her a lot).  I’ll start that in a week, though, because the 7 Dwarfs of the Menstrual Apocalypse are rolling into town around Wednesday and I’m not going to feel like doing much of anything.  I plan to use these next 7 days to mentally pump myself up about the benefits of exercise.  In fact, I might try to make it a little interesting…more on that later.

The fact is, I know exercise is good for me.  I know it’s what I should be doing.  At 336 pounds, though, it’s not fun and it doesn’t make me feel good.  In fact, it usually ends up making me feel worse about myself than I already do.  I’ve done some soul searching about this over the past few months and I believe these are the core issues.

I didn’t have to make myself give up sugar last December…it’s what I wanted to do.  That last butter toffee binge really threw me over the edge and I was ready to give it all up and eat grilled chicken for a while.  I believe, no…I know this is why I’ve been successful.  I didn’t force myself to do anything I wasn’t ready to do.  I was ready for change and I changed.  The only thing that’s different now is that when the going gets tough, I remember that giving up leads to failure…and I refuse to give up.  That’s the only thing that’s different from all my other attempts to eat healthy.

I don’t feel ready to exercise.  I’ve tried to get on the bandwagon before and I have not been able to stick with it, so I’ve backtracked…because I’m afraid of forcing myself to do too much too soon and then falling flat on my ass and failing at everything.  I’m extremely protective of the success I’ve had thus far…and I don’t want to do anything to screw that up.

So I’ll start my new work hours, which will allow me to get up, have breakfast, and workout before work.  Instead of stomping on the treadmill half asleep and hating myself, I’ll have time to really enjoy it.  I do enjoy walking on the treadmill when I choose to get on it and don’t force myself to.

Is anyone rolling their eyes and screaming “Stop whining!” yet?  🙂  Sorry…this is my process and this is who I am.  I’m on a mission to make sure I am finally successful at losing a shit ton of weight…and living a healthy life.  I have to be honest about how I feel at every turn in the road or I’ll just repeat the same damn mistakes over and over and over again.

Those of you who were reading my blog back when I started may remember that I baby-stepped my way through some significant changes:  first I gave up sugar, next I gave up diet soda.  I created a daily menu for myself and ate only that menu every single day, not wanting to screw myself up with too many choices.  It worked.

I have to do that with exercise as well or I will bargain my way out of it every single time.  I have to dumb it down so that I don’t have to think about it.  So my goal is to start with 15 minutes a day, Monday – Friday.  I’ll take Saturday and Sunday off.  Then I’ll move up to 20 minutes…then 30…then I’ll see how I feel.  This feels like the best way to make it a habit, as it’ll be routine for me to get up for work…have breakfast…workout…and go to work.  If I take a break in the middle of the week for a rest day, it screws up the rhythm that I need in a situation like this.  Rhythm is good.  Momentum is good.

So that’s my plan.  I’ve been through lots of change lately…I’m ready for some of it to be good!  I’m going to have to remind myself of my promise to never quit…a lot.  Let’s see if I can make this change stick.









life is good

The Nicest Things I’ve Never Worn…

My usual flurry of weekend activity has been intensified by my determination to keep the “Plateau Blues” out of my head.  I busied myself with a myriad of tasks this weekend from my regular housecleaning to lunch with a girlfriend…and even cleaning my make-up brushes.  Yeah…I’m look’in for shit to do.  🙂  I’m focusing on the positive and doing things that make my life easier.  This also included straightening the closet.  That is, until my eyes fell upon a pretty storage box in the corner of the top shelf…and I stopped for a minute to look in it.

T-shirts.  Bunches of t-shirts that I’ve never worn.  Why?  Because there was a time in my life when I thought it would be motivating to buy clothes in a smaller size and hang them over the treadmill.  Turns out I was wrong.  It just made me feel bad.  It was like failure hanging over my head.  So I boxed them up and put them in the closet.

First, my apologies to all blondes. 🙂  I mean no disrespect…that shirt just made me laugh!  Second, I’m not sure I can pull off the “brown eyes hypnotize” shirt at my age…or the pink blinged out Super Girl shirt.  These two shirts feel like missed opportunities to me.  The OMFG STFU shirt is so small I’m not sure I’ll ever fit in it – as is the “Screw You We’re From Texas” shirt (great song!).

All of them are cute and I can understand why I bought them, but the problem with these shirts is that I was a giant fat girl when I bought them and I had no idea what size I would end up fitting in.  I bought mediums.  They all look unbelievably tiny to me when I hold them up now.   They almost look like little girl clothes to me.  I’m looking at the world through fat colored glasses, I guess.

I suppose if they don’t fit me when I hit my goal weight, I’ll have another raffle and send them off to all of you who are good enough to read this blog.  🙂  It seems like such a silly thing to have done, but I really wanted the shirts at the time and knew they wouldn’t still be for sale when I hit my goal weight.  I’m sure I thought it would happen sooner than this.

It could be that I’m so used to wearing giant Jabba the Hut pants that these normal sizes look tiny to me…so I’m hanging on to them for now.  In fact, as I write this, they’re already stowed in that pretty flower covered box and shoved to the back of the closet shelf again…waiting for goal weight day.

There are other pretty things that are waiting to be worn as well, including a bracelet my husband bought me right after we were married.  My wrist was/is too fat to wear it.  He felt terrible when he tried to put it on me and it wouldn’t fasten, even though nothing about it was his fault.  I own that, not him.  We’ll celebrate our 9th wedding anniversary this year and he’s never seen me weigh less than 265 pounds.

That shit’s gonna change!

Many of my readers have asked me lately “What’s keeping you motivated???”  I understand why those questions are being asked.  We’ve all been down this road a million times, haven’t we?  We’re doing well for a while and then BOOM…plateau.  Frustration gets us.  We want to lose weight, we don’t understand why we’re not, and we feel like…what’s the use?  Twinkie City, here we come.

I feel that way too sometimes, but the idea of doing this again seems absolutely insane to me.  Why would I put myself through all this again?  Granted, I have about 177 pounds to go and that’s overwhelming if you think about it (which I don’t)…but when I started this, I had 219 pounds to lose.  Why on Earth would I ever want to slam this car into reverse and go back to that?

I can’t help but see my bathroom scale when I walk through the master bedroom.  Many times lately, I see it and think to myself “It’s probably not going to move tomorrow either, damn it…”  I feel frustration.  I feel a little anger, even.  Sometimes I’m tempted to “just take a break…”  I know that leads to trouble.  You probably do too.

Then I think about that bracelet in my drawer that’s never fit me and I realize…simple science will win this battle for me.  Now is not the time to give up.  Less calories in, more calories out, water in, water out, cardio done, weights lifted.  No plateau in the world can stand up to the simple science of weight loss.  Why, oh why, would I reach for Twinkies or call for pizza?  If I do that, I’m guaranteeing that the bracelet will stay in its little velvet box a whole lot longer.

No plateau’s going to stop me from wearing it for my 10th anniversary.

Simple science + a little determination = success.  That’s how I’ve done it, that’s how I’m continuing to do it…and that’s how you can do it to.

The only way out is through.