Changes…

…They are a Comin’

But first some details.  It’s been pointed out to me that anyone reading this blog might want to know the vitals: how much I weighed when this began, what I weigh now, goal weight, etc.  My first inclination is to say “screw you, that’s none of your business,” but that would be rude and I’m not a rude person.  Still, I hesitate to put numbers out here, because hey, it’s a little embarrassing (as if spilling your guts in public isn’t, right?)  I may change my mind and post specific numbers later, but for now I can tell you this: I’m 5′ 3″ and when I began working out, I wore a size 18/20.  Definitely not the largest size in the store, but plenty big for someone my height, okay?  I’m down to a 14/16 right now, and as of last Friday (weigh-in day), I’ve lost 38.6 pounds. Enough about that.  Back to our story:

In the first Half Assed post, I explained that I was snapped out of my doldrums by getting asked out on a date.  After I realized that I didn’t want to continue living the way I was, I had to think about what I wanted out of my life.  What did I want, and with what was I unhappy (to be grammatically correct)?

First and foremost, I was unhappy with my appearance. As I mentioned in my first blog entry, I had allowed myself to gain quite a bit of weight.  Granted, I was extremely lucky that I didn’t yet suffer from any health problems related to my weight, but I couldn’t count on that lasting forever.  I was also lucky in the sense that I seemed to have topped out at my maximum weight, regardless of what or how much I ate. (Now that I think about it, if I were happy at that weight, I could be eating a cheeseburger and onion rings right about now… but I wasn’t, so I can’t!)  Then again, I couldn’t count on not gaining weight in the future, either.  What it really came down to was vanity, plain and simple.  I’ll admit it; I have no problem with it.  I used to be a size 4, and I never had become used to shopping for clothes in larger sizes.  In all seriousness, there is NO thought put into the “design” of plus sizes, not at all.  I haven’t found anything that I truly loved to wear in years because plus size clothes are so damn ugly.  And don’t get me started on the fabrics! I confess I’m a little bit of a fabric snob– I do not wear synthetic fibers.  Unfortunately, the majority of plus-sized clothing seems to be made of polyester.  Frankly, if I wanted to ever feel so much as halfway good about what I was wearing and how I looked, I was going to have to lose some weight.  I also love shoes. Of course, shoes are the one thing you can wear regardless of your weight, but they go with the clothes, you know?  No cute shoe is going to turn a butt-ugly outfit to fabulous.  My shoe collection had sadly been rendered pretty much useless at a certain weight.

Next, I knew that I wanted to find another job, but I was procrastinating because I knew I wouldn’t feel confident interviewing.  It hit me pretty hard that I’ve been putting up with a less than ideal work situation just because I don’t want to interview while I’m fat.  Don’t get me wrong; I like what I do, and I’m lucky that I truly like my coworkers.  Right now there isn’t one wacko in the group I work with every day (although I suppose I could be lying since some of them know about this blog!).  I know that not everyone can say that they genuinely like their coworkers.  The issue with my job is the volume–without going into too much detail, the vast majority of companies the size of the one for which I work would have one person each responsible for the three areas I have responsibility for.  I do have an assistant, but she’s on the phone all day answering employees’ questions.  I’m lucky to have her at all; it took two years of pleading just to get her job into the budget.  The fact is, I have way too much work to do, and prior to this summer, I was working steady 12 hour days just trying to stay ahead.  I told myself that I was way too busy to work out, or go out, or do anything because I had to work.  Part of the life re-evaluation was accepting the fact that regardless of how hard or how long I worked, nothing at the job was going to change, so the change would have to come through me.  I no longer work 12 hour days.  I still don’t take a lunch break, but I don’t work until 8:00 every night.  Depending on what’s going on, I’ll work late if something absolutely has to get done, but staying very late is no longer routine.  Besides, what did working 65-70 hour weeks ever get me except a fat ass and a lot of stress headaches? It certainly didn’t get me any decent raises, that’s for sure.  Now I work out two mornings a week before work and I get here when I get here, and I work out 3 nights a week and leave at 5:30 to get to my workout on time.  Guess what happened after I started working on my own schedule? Nothing… there’s still too much work to do, we’re still not caught up, but I feel a lot better and I have more energy (on most days, anyway). I know that finding another job in a tough economy will take time, so I’d better get started now.  I’m not anywhere near my goal weight, but at least I’m smaller than I used to be. 

As much time as I devoted to work, I gave very little to friends.  I sincerely regret that.  I hate to think how much I missed because of my self-doubts and lack of confidence.  Part of it was that I felt that I was too fat to see anyone.  I don’t know why I assumed friends would judge me; I certainly wouldn’t have judged them.  In any case, I never went anywhere or did anything because I felt horrible.  One of my goals is to be a better friend, to go out and see people, and to be there for someone when they need me to be.  I’ve made an effort to reach out to old friends, and I’m happy to say that we’ve been able to get together a few times and catch up on the last twenty or so years.  I don’t want the get-togethers to stop. And I’m so happy to say that I made a new friend this summer– here’s a shout-out to ah… we’ll call her Jessica Simpson, or JS, who’s been incredibly encouraging while I debated starting a blog. Thanks!  

My sister has also been incredibly supportive of the changes I’m making, and I want to thank her too.   Yet another goal is to be a better sister to her, as well as a better aunt to her kids.  It’s difficult when you live in different states and you’re both busy, and the kids need to be driven everywhere, and our bedtimes are so different, blah, blah, blah.  But she’s going through her own changes this year and I want her to know that I love her and I intend to work on being a better sister. Well, I guess I could say it to her, couldn’t I!  Hey, if you’re reading this, I know you’re going through some tough stuff right now, and I guess that as the older sister, I think of you as always having everything under control.   I shouldn’t assume, and just know that I love you very much and the shovel is always at the ready should you need my help.

I still can’t decide whether to tackle the next subject or not; stay tuned while I debate with myself.  Thanks for reading!

and last, I admit I’m not 5′ 3.” I’m 5′ 2 and 1/2.”