I've spent the last month thinking a lot about how things have changed for me in the past year. The anniversary of my gastric-bypass surgery was February 2nd. I had wanted to post a wonderful retrospective of the year but every time I tried to write it, I couldn't come up with anything that felt worthy.
On my last trip to Chicago I saw something that made me realize how many small things have changed that I hadn't really internalized yet.
At the end of my trip, I returned my car to the rental agency, gathered my things and headed to the bus shelter. The driver kindly helped me load my luggage. I boarded a bus about three-quarters full and found a seat facing the door and the waiting shelter. There were about 4 single seats left at this point.
A gentleman of some size approached the bus. He poked his head in, scoped out the seating situation and backed away from the bus. The driver approached and offered to load his luggage, he declined and said he had forgotten something in his car and headed the other direction. He got as far as the other side of the shelter then stopped.
The driver then closed the doors and moved the bus away from the curb. I turned to watch as the gentleman then turned around and boarded the following bus.
It broke my heart. On so many levels. I recognize that behavior as a former extremely obese person. I see the frustration in having to scope out every situation to decide if your butt will fit and to decide if it's worth the embarrassment or not.
I've lost many of my "fat" habits but they are always lurking in the distance. I don't know if I will ever be entirely free of them, but it's nice to have them on the sidelines.
While I haven't lost as much weight as I had hoped I would be this point, I have to say that if I didn't lose another pound at this point I wouldn't feel like I had failed. Just maintaining what I have lost so far is a win as far as I'm concerned. I feel so much better and am treated far better by most people. I haven't been oinked out when I'm out walking for a good year. (I used to get jeered at or oinked at at least once a month before. I mean really, did they think I didn't know I was fat?)
Showing posts with label WeightLoss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label WeightLoss. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Friday, June 26, 2009
Eight Reasons why I Love Being 65 Pounds Thinner
1. Energy. I get up in the morning and feel like doing things. I work in my yard for an hour and still have energy to spend on other projects. I cook dinner for 15 people and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up before bed.
2. Clothes. I am one size away from shopping in the "regular" sizes again. Fat-lady clothes ARE NOT cute. They are either for teen-agers (so not me) or for blue-hairs (definitely not me). Every size I go down I'm able to find better and better clothes.
3. Legs. I can cross them. I haven't crossed my legs in 15 years and now I can't sit with them not crossed. I love being able to bounce Lucille on my crossed leg a la horsie.
4. Lap. I have one. I haven't had a lap in over 15 years either. When I sit on my couch and work on my laptop, it sits on my lap, not on the coffee table with me hunched over it.
5. Seatbelts. When I travel, I don't have to ask for the seatbelt extender. When I get into other people's cars, I don't have suck in my stomach and hope it will stretch all the way over my mid-section. I actually have room to move once the seatbelt is fastened.
6. Sleeves. Or lack thereof. This is the first summer in many that I have been willing to wear sleeveless tops in public. My arms are still fat, but the gain in how I feel overall makes me enjoy having the sun on my arms again.
7. Elevation. The last time I went to Rocky Mountain National Park, I couldn't walk across the parking lot without wheezing. Anytime I was up over about 7,000 feet, I couldn't function. Earlier this week, I was in the park and spent some time walking on paths that were in the woods (no hiking, aka death marching, was involved) and finished with air to spare.
8. Cooking. It seems counter-intuitive to enjoy cooking more after after Gastric By-pass surgery, but I do. I think it's because I enjoy the creative aspects so much more. It feels like an endeavor rather than a chore. I taste the food and move on rather than creating a feast for four with only one person at the table.
2. Clothes. I am one size away from shopping in the "regular" sizes again. Fat-lady clothes ARE NOT cute. They are either for teen-agers (so not me) or for blue-hairs (definitely not me). Every size I go down I'm able to find better and better clothes.
3. Legs. I can cross them. I haven't crossed my legs in 15 years and now I can't sit with them not crossed. I love being able to bounce Lucille on my crossed leg a la horsie.
4. Lap. I have one. I haven't had a lap in over 15 years either. When I sit on my couch and work on my laptop, it sits on my lap, not on the coffee table with me hunched over it.
5. Seatbelts. When I travel, I don't have to ask for the seatbelt extender. When I get into other people's cars, I don't have suck in my stomach and hope it will stretch all the way over my mid-section. I actually have room to move once the seatbelt is fastened.
6. Sleeves. Or lack thereof. This is the first summer in many that I have been willing to wear sleeveless tops in public. My arms are still fat, but the gain in how I feel overall makes me enjoy having the sun on my arms again.
7. Elevation. The last time I went to Rocky Mountain National Park, I couldn't walk across the parking lot without wheezing. Anytime I was up over about 7,000 feet, I couldn't function. Earlier this week, I was in the park and spent some time walking on paths that were in the woods (no hiking, aka death marching, was involved) and finished with air to spare.
8. Cooking. It seems counter-intuitive to enjoy cooking more after after Gastric By-pass surgery, but I do. I think it's because I enjoy the creative aspects so much more. It feels like an endeavor rather than a chore. I taste the food and move on rather than creating a feast for four with only one person at the table.
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