Three is a magic number

Yesterday was my 3rd rebirth-day, as my husband calls it. The anniversary of my surgery and the day my life changed forever. Changing for the better every day!

Erich and I went to Stratford and took a relaxing boat tour of the Avon River. It was a beautiful day and strolling around the water watching the swans was what I needed after a week of very intense work-related stress. Celebrating low-key.

My other re-birthday gift to myself was signing up for my first 10K. I think I'm ready for a new challenge. My knees - with braces on them both - held out pretty well for the Father's Day 5K. So I'm gearing up for the Minds in Motion K-W Walking Classic on September 23. Yes, I will walk it. For some reason, people tend to make you feel badly for not running. I'm taking baby steps here - my knees thank me for it. There was also a half marathon option but nope. Not yet. Sorry!!

I posted this picture on Facebook yesterday morning and had such an overwhelming response of support from my awesome friends and family. The photo on the left was taken in December, 2008 - two months before my first visit to the surgeon in Detroit. The pic on the right was taken on Father's Day this year during the 5K I participated in for prostate cancer awareness and research.



I've said it before, but I bear no ill will to the woman on the left. She was brave and strong enough to save herself and I am grateful to her. I'm not one of those people who cringe at my 'before' photos. I still don't really recognize the woman on the right. I know it's me, but it still doesn't seem like me.

Three years seems like a long time yet it also seems like yesterday. I've learned a lot. A lot about me and those around me. Here are the top three things I know to be true:

3. I am stronger than I think I am. Who would've ever thought I could do this? Certainly not me. I mean, I wouldn't have started it if I didn't want it but I have been successful beyond my own expectations and surprised myself with my fabulous-ness!!

2. Support is the most important ingredient to inspiration and therefore, success. When you think you can't go on, there will be someone, somewhere, to let you know YOU CAN. You will. You must. It could be your partner, parent, child, friend, a stranger on tv or in a magazine. Someone. Support comes from unexpected sources, let me tell you, as does apathy. You might learn who really has your back and who doesn't; I sure did.

1. The journey never ends. It just goes on and morphs into something different as time goes by. The new normal is you being healthy, positive, looking out for yourself. Taking care of yourself. Goals are important - maintenance itself can be a goal but for me, I'm learning I need new challenges. New reasons to push myself to maintain health. Hence the 10K signup.

Let's toast to Three. It's a magic number! :)

My best time

Greetings fellow....people!

On Sunday, I spent father's day in London, Ontario participating in Prostate Cancer Canada's Father's Day 5K Walk/Run. It rained the night before and the entire morning, but by the time we took off, it stopped. Later on, the sun came out and all was right with the world. Running the entire 5K would've been ideal but I'm just not there yet. Not like I've trained super hard to do it, either. I ran when I could, walked when I couldn't.

I raised $510 for the cause and I'm pleased with that. All told, over a million dollars got poured into the coffers from races all over the country. So that's awesome.

Coming into the finish, I got the shock of my life when the clock said just over 47 minutes. We got a late start and I wasn't really sure how long I'd been gone. That time is not great, I know. But in October at the CIBC Run for the Cure, the 5K took me just over an hour to complete. So this is real progress and I'm proud of that sucky time! Erich was waiting for me at the finish line. He said he checked out the clock said to himself "Oh, I have 15 or 20 minutes to wait for her," then all of the sudden I was jogging towards him! Very cool to surprise him like that and make him proud.

Some pics from the race (click to enlarge):

Ready for the rain (ditched the poncho soon after this was taken):



Finish line!



I know my face is blood red but honest to god, I felt like a million bucks. My face reddens very easily under normal circumstances. The picture gave my mom a fright, though. LOL!



Back at the hotel after the race, we had the guy behind the counter take our pic:



I ordered those shirts we have on from Zazzle. Much better to deal with than Cafe Press, I'm just sayin'. And no, they didn't pay me to say that. I'm thinking of putting in another order after I came across this shirt. Too lame? Probably. Meh.

Last night, beautious bariatric blogger Beth Badore (a.k.a. Melting Mama) FINALLY appeared on ABC doing what she does best - shooting straight. Beth went to NYC weeks ago to film an interview with Deborah Roberts that was supposed to appear on an hour-long 20/20 special on weight loss. Ended up on the cutting room floor. Well, they resurrected the piece for Nightline and its story on alcohol addiction and weight-loss surgery (WLS).

The thing is, those of us who have had WLS possess addictive personalities. The tendency for some is to replace one addiction for another when food is taken out of the equation. Drugs and alcohol are easy new soulmates due to the re-plumbing we had via the surgery...we feel the effects faster. We get drunk faster and we sober up faster. And, as Beth so eloquently put it, "If you can't swallow chicken, you can swallow wine." Poultry, for non-WLS readers, is a notoriously rough food for patients to get down. Some can never eat it again - I can (thank goodness). Check out the video HERE.

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.