Re-gain and re-run

It's hard to believe I am coming up on the 3-year anniversary of my surgery. So many changes and yet so many things are the same. My husband refers to July 7 as my "re-birthday"; I am one of those cheesy people who often consider new years (January 1, birthdays, anniversaries) as a chance to push the re-set button on whatever needs to be tweaked. This year, as I approach my re-birthday, I know what needs to be done.

This journey never ends, it just changes. For me, I am dealing with a bit of regain and of course that needs to be stopped in its tracks. I've been struggling with it since last fall, when something happened that made the already overwhelming stress in my life just a bit more of a vivid stoplight red. I won't go into that but I definitely recognized the pathological, comfortable reaction for me was to medicate with my old frenemy food. The good thing is that I did recognize it and it hasn't gotten completely out of hand, but I feel like I need to start over a little bit. So I'm going back to 2009 in a few ways. I'm re-reading my faithful blue binder that the awesome team at Henry Ford Hospital gave to me. I'm looking within myself and remembering the reasons I did this and how it would feel to go back. NO going back. Ever. I'm even thinking of heading back to the pool. It helped me so much back then and was so much fun. I stopped going because I couldn't really afford a gym membership and pool time, but my gym membership is dirt cheap now so I'm going back into the water.

Complacency is an addict's worst enemy. So many of us get to goal and feel a fucked-up sense of entitlement, of "I'm thin now, so I can eat what I want." No, you can't. If the reformed drinker or smoker says that, the shit hits the fan. No different with me. Having said that, I have no desire to be a food Nazi. Life is more than 1200 calories a day, no sugar, no carbs, no fun. I can't just stop eating, so finding the sweet spot (no pun intended) can be difficult. So since last fall, I've lost some and gained, lost some and gained. I'm losing again at the moment and I'm determined to not let this shit beat me down.

Enough of that! Other topics:

Even three years out, I still struggle sometimes to remember that I've lost weight and people don't see me the way they did before the surgery. In some situations, my first reaction is to think about how humiliating an experience will be based on others' reaction to my presence. That's a very tough thing to overcome. Sometimes I wonder if I ever will.

Not too long ago I went to see singer/songwriter Levi Weaver at a so-called "house show". Literally, someone opens up their home to musicians and people come to feel the music. Levi is popular with some of my friends but I had never seen him perform live. Now, the thought of me going to someone's house and not knowing anyone at all in the room was more than a little terrifying. A bigger venue I can handle. It was the size of the "crowd" that got to me. What if there isn't room for me? I take up too much space, right? No one will talk to me. Who wants to talk to me?? Sometimes I feel like there's a voice in my head like the psycho mom in Carrie: "They're all gonna laugh at you!!" But I took a deep breath and remembered that I. Will. Be. Fine. I got great support from my friends and went. And it was awesome. Levi was wonderful, both offstage and on, and the whole thing made me wonder what I was so worried about. I discovered yet another thing that is no big deal. Just do it.

Erich and I celebrated our 11th anniversary at a dinner theatre/all-suite hotel in Mississauga called Stage West. Again, something I wouldn't have attempted before. I just would've felt very out of place in a setting like that. The seating would've freaked me out. Navigating my way through the tables would've been enough to keep me home. But it was a very nice time and we both loved the food, the play and the hotel. We got a great, GREAT deal so it's probably not something we would do again.

This time next week, I will have completed my second official 5K (I do them in the gym all the time but no one's counting those...LOL) when I go to London (Ontario...don't get too excited) and participate in the Father's Day Walk/Run for Prostate Cancer. Last fall, I did the CIBC Breast Cancer 5K in memory of my Aunt Betty and also to support all the other victims and caregivers of the disease. This time, I'm walking for my own father. My dad was only 49 when he was diagnosed and thanks to early detection, he is still with us today. I can't be with him next Sunday so this is my way of linking us together over the miles. I am fund-raising for this event - if you can, please click this link and give me, my dad, and all those touched by prostate cancer your support. I will do the breast cancer 5K again this year, but will not fund-raise for it. I figure one race a year is enough to bug people for money - and trust me, IT'S HARD to get people to donate to anything. Much harder than I expected! The rest of the year, I will do more 5Ks if I find them, but won't fund-raise.

I still can't run a 5K. My knees are pretty much bone on bone, so damaged from the arthritis that came about from my life of morbid obesity. But I wear braces on both knees and get on with it. And the other night, I ran more than I ever have and it was a pretty awesome feeling. I did a 5K at the gym yesterday and shaved about 10 minutes off the time I put up at the breast cancer race last October. So I feel good about that. I no longer wonder if I can finish; I just want my best time.

More stuff to get off my chest but that'll come later, maybe tomorrow. I don't want to write too long of a book here! I love you guys and thanks so much for all your kind wishes and support.