DAYS 30 & 31

Yesterday was a typical day. Woke up, went to the gym, went about my errands, ate my meal plan meals, etc. But today I woke up and realized it had been a month since I started keeping this journal.

A whole month.

I didn't have time to think about it, though, because I could see ominous clouds in the distance, threatening rain at any moment, and I had a morning hike to attend to first!  Despite being accompanied by John and my friend Caiti, I was extremely slow in my ascent. My new work out in the gym has made my legs sore as all hell, and that blister on my heel (the one that looked like a sinkhole and thought would give me sepsis) made my foot twinge with each step. I'm sure my hike suffered because of the way I had to put my foot down with each step, trying to avoid hurting the blister more. Luckily, we made it to the top in relatively good time, and managed to get back home before the rain started. Also, this motivational sign made an appearance on my street and got me thinking a bit.

Inspired, I decided to make my lunch and get to work on my writing for the day. But as I attempted to draft my latest spec script, something felt OFF. I couldn't pin point it. Maybe it was the lack of sunshine, or that I'd wanted to explore a new coffee shop today but didn't want to brave Los Angelinos attempting to drive in the rain (seriously, 99% have NO idea that the road gets slippery). I just couldn't make the words flow. I was about to throw up my hands and call it a day when I realized that I knew why I was feeling so weird. 1 month meant I had to take a progress picture, and I really really really didn't want to. But, going in , I made a promise to myself that I would take monthly progress pictures, and so I wanted to adhere to that. So, I did. I even got a little brave and took a picture of my side view as well as from behind. 

This is me, ten pounds lighter than last month.

I look at the picture, and I honestly can't see a difference. In fact, I feel like my back looks heavier than one month ago. So then i got to thinking. Where did that weight disappear to, if I can't see a visible difference? Well, then something magical happened. I talked myself out of feeling crappy about not being able to see a difference and just moved forward with my life. I even decided to treat myself to a glass of champagne to toast myself for sticking with this for a month, hitting my goal, and being ready to conquer the future. When the cashier asked for my ID at the checkout line, I even giggled gleefully - loving that even approaching 30, the cashier needed to make sure I was 21. But what she said next nearly knocked me out. "Girl!" she exclaimed, bringing me out of my giddy trance. "You've lost a LOT of weight! You look good." I took my ID back from her and realized that the photo on the ID had been taken this past November (the peak of my weight gain), and this woman could tell based on that photo and my current face that I had lost weight. I was stunned. Here I was, merely hours before thinking that I looked no different, but I was wrong.

After thanking her profusely, I headed home to make my dinner and enjoy a glass of champagne. For my last day of Dinner #1 on my meal plan, I decided to mix things up a little bit. For the last three nights I'd been enjoying bolognese sauce over sauteed mushrooms and zucchinis. But today I was feeling excited and wanted to see if I could create zoodles - or noodles created out of zucchini. For Hannukah, my mom had sent me a spiralizer but I had yet to really use it. I'm not sure why, though. Because it was maybe the best thing I've ever used in my entire life. Within two minutes, I had a bowlful of zoodles. I'd heard that since zucchini contains a lot of water, it's good to let them dry out a bit, so I let them sit on some paper towel for about 15 minutes before throwing them into a sautee pan. About two minutes in the pan, and my zoodles were ready! I topped them with my leftover meatsauce, a sprinkle of cheese, and VOILA. Best. Dinner. Ever.

Pasta has been the one thing that I really truly miss so far. And boy am I glad I found zoodles because they have the same texture as spaghetti. So much so that I genuinely felt like I was eating pasta for the first time in a month! I highly recommend a spiralizer for anyone who wants to try them. It was the easiest dinner I'd made so far. 20 minutes from conception to the plate. And so so satisfying. I'd never been so excited about a vegetable before in my life.

But, I guess that's who I am now. Excited by vegetables, and ready to take on the world. Thank you for taking this journey with me for the past month. Now, bring on the next one!

Let's keep doing this.

DAYS 16-19

I promised myself I would, so I did. Today I finally weighed myself. And this is what happened:

19 days of blood, sweat, and tears, and I've officially lost 5.6 lbs! As I stood on the scale, trying not to hold my breath, waiting for the numbers to pop up, about a thousand things ran through my head. But nothing could have prepared me for the underwhelming - hmmm - that was my actual reaction. Not elation, not disappointment, simply satisfaction. Satisfaction in knowing that this journey is not a sprint, it's a goddamned marathon (two or three marathons, even!), and I'm just starting out. I am losing exactly how much I set out to (~ 2 lbs/week) and am on track to have a 10lb loss per month. And because of this, I need to start thinking about my rewards system. 

I knew the best person for this job would be my longest friend, Amber, so on Wednesday after my morning workout and haircut (supplementary photos are all on my Instagram Follow Me HERE!), I hopped on the train to NYC to meet her for dinner. Per my sister's instructions, we had decided on a healthy restaurant earlier in the week - a great place in Chelsea that specializes in vegetable plates called Westville. The portions were ginormous, and I was able to take home leftovers of roasted cauliflower, sautéed brussell sprouts, and shaved artichoke hearts, as well as most of my salmon and quinoa salad entree.

Breakfast (TL): Steel cut oats w/ 2 tbs natural peanut butter and 1/2 apple.
Lunch (TR): Grilled chicken and eggplant salad over mesclun w/ dijon vinaigrette.
Dinner: Blackened salmon w/ quinoa salad and roasted tomatoes. Market veggie plate.

 As we dined on this deliciousness, I asked Amber to help me out with coming up with some rewards for myself. She immediately started plotting. Knowing about my financial constraints (*shakes fist at hiatus/unemployment in the entertainment industry*), she tried to keep the rewards as cheap as possible, even coming up with a few free options. We agreed that the rewards shouldn't be weight dependent, so no food treats, not too many interim clothes, etc. We even tried to think of things that would be health promoting treats, an expensive exercise classes a la Soul Cycle, or a high end sports accessories from Athleta or lululemon. That night, even though I was exhausted from walking all over NYC, I continued brainstorming ideas. I never thought I was an incentive based worker, but it turns out I might be! My list is still in the works, but I can't wait to share it with all of you.

Thursday was supposed to be my rest day, I swear. I woke up, put on makeup, did my hair, and made a delicious brunch with my leftover veggies, quinoa salad, and added chicken sausage for some protein. I was planning on hanging out, writing up my blog entry and catching up on all the TV I'd missed since beginning my travels. But as soon as my mom asked if I'd want to go to the beach with one of our oldest family friends, I couldn't resist putting on my sneakers and abandoning all thoughts of resting. Though the walk was slow paced (my family friend hadn't seen me in two years and led about an hour long inquisition of my life -- she's not on FB, haha), it was still a good 3 mile loop. I felt proud of myself that I didn't feel resentful of being asked to exercise on my rest day. At no point during our walk did I even feel like I was exercising. I was simply catching up with an old friend.

Brunch (TR): 1 link chicken sausage over 1/4 cup quinoa salad, 1 cup roasted veggies.
Dinner (BR): Balsamic chicken over 1/4 cup cooked quinoa, zucchini, tomatoes, and mesclun.

The highlight of my week, however, was yesterday. After my morning workout (an intense leg day of a one mile treadmill warm up, weighted lunges, squats, deadlifts, leg extensions, leg curls, leg press, and finishing up with 100 weighted crunches), I showered and got ready to go back into NYC with my mom to meet up with her best friend since childhood (whom I call my "other mother"). I spoiled myself and used a bunch of my mom's fancy makeup (even getting her to give me a few of the items she'd impulse purchased and didn't end up liking after a few uses!), and sent this picture to my boyfriend. He called me immediately. "Your face looks so skinny, <insert nauseating pet name here>!" he said. I scoffed. How could this be? I'd only been gone a little over a week, maybe it was just the angle of the picture? I took another one from straight on and asked, "Really?" At this point, I hadn't yet weighed myself, so I kind of thought he was just being overly sweet and brushed it off. But as I scrolled through the week since I left LA, I could see he maybe wasn't being insincere. My cheeks and chin had started to subside. And I was feeling great about it. 

Invigorated and "feeling pretty" for the first time in...I don't even know how long, I walked through the city going picture crazy. I stopped and took photos of the flowers in bloom on Park Avenue, I made us pause at Intermix and take a picture on their couch. I smiled and laughed a lot. By the time the sun was starting to go down, I realized we'd walked about 60 blocks, just window shopping. Our feet were aching, and none of us had brought jackets with us, so we needed to find a restaurant for dinner. My other mother recommended a small Italian place by her apartment, and I was able to look at the menu and pick out about three healthy options before even sitting down. After my exercise intense day, I splurged on a glass of red wine with my dinner, and didn't even feel tempted to join in pre-meal bread eating. A first, for sure. 

I was the definition of happiness, even as we said goodbye and headed back to the car. Fully situated, I pulled up my health app, curious to see how many steps we'd actually taken around the city and was shocked to see that we'd almost cleared 13,000 steps, just over 6 miles (and that wasn't counting my mile on the treadmill earlier in the morning!). I was overwhelmed. I turned on the radio and attempted to sing along, but I was so damn happy that I kept getting choked up and being unable to continue. Though I am a crier (the HomeAway commercial with the dog getting left behind brings literal tears to my eyes), I couldn't remember the last time I'd been too emotionally overwhelmed to sing. I think my body is just so relieved I'm actually doing something to make so many positive changes that it sort of went into shock.

I'm grateful for my tears, though. They remind me to keep going. That this is the right path for me. That even though I'm just beginning, and I know there will be bad times and harder times ahead, I can enjoy pushing myself and coasting through this tidal wave of happiness right now. That I'm allowed to feel happy at any weight. As always, let's keep doing this. 

DAY 15

I've never really held much stock in the phrase, "There's no place like home." Unlike Dorothy, my friends and family left the small town where we grew up almost as soon as they could. With my sisters in LA and Chicago respectively, and my best friends spread across the nation, I'd never really seen the point in coming back to Connecticut. Though my mom remained, it wasn't like she still lived in my childhood home (neither the first, nor the second), and I'd much rather spend time with her in LA where we had better weather and much more to do.

But after my mom visited LA in March, she begged me to come home. Really, truly begged.
"It'll be like a spa vacation," she said. "You can relax and go to they gym and work on your writing!" Since I was on hiatus, waiting to hear if the show I worked on was going to return for another season (it did, btw--yay Faking It Season 3!), I figured...why not? I knew she was anxious to keep an eye on me; I'd never seen her as worried about me as when she was leaving LA this time (and that's saying something because I'm ashamed to admit I've put that woman through a LOT to be worried about). And as the weeks passed, I realized I couldn't remember the last time I'd spent any time alone with her. Because of my crazy television work schedule, all our time together had been as a family, and I lacked any one on one time with her. I was excited. And I was not let down.

My mother is not a cook (she was quoted saying she prefers cleaning dishes to cooking tonight), but using the meal plan V and I had come up with a few days before, my first day home turned into a magical delicious feast.

Breakfast (top left): 1/2 cup of steel cut oats cooked in 1 cup of skim milk. 1/2 of a chopped granny smith apple, and 1/8 cup of walnut halves.

Lunch (bottom left): 4 oz. chicken breast, 2 tbs. 0% greek yogurt, a dollop of fresh pico de gallo, on top of 1 cup chopped romaine.

Dinner: 6 oz. filet mignon, with mixed veggies (1 cup of sliced mushrooms, 1/4 cup of red bell peppers, 1/2 cup of green beans) cooked in 1 tbs of olive oil and 2 tbs soy sauce, on top of 1/2 cup brown rice.

I was seriously astounded at how delicious my meals were. Not only that, but since they'd been planned before time, they required about zero thought. And my total intake was only 1390 calories, even before my exercise. The spa vacation sentiment was pretty true. Plus, it felt amazing to be taken care of by my mom. That sounds pretty silly coming from a 27 year old adult, but there's something so intensely gratifying about it. My mom is the first to support my goals and my journey, and a large part of this has been influenced by her, but being with her was suddenly incredibly low pressure. I felt like we could just enjoy being together.

This morning we accomplished my first and most important mission. New sneakers. My brother in law promised I'd tell my mom I needed new sneakers after the bloody foot incident of this past Sunday, so that's where our day began. And it was quite an experience. For the past three days, I've done extensive research on which gym shoes are best for overweight women. Which shoes have the most shock absorption to decrease pressure on joints. Which shoes have the most stability. Which shoes come in fun colors (I'm sorry, but that's important to me!). The most valuable piece of information I learned in my research was to go to a running store and have someone evaluate my gait. It sounded silly to me, but I figured why not? So, I went to the closest running store and took my chances. Let me just say, if anyone ever needs any new sneakers, I cannot recommend this experience more. Not only did the salespeople know everything there is to know about different sneakers, but she first had me stand on a computer scale, which projected an image onto a screen to show me where most of my weight was distributed (my heels), the length and width of both my feet (9M forever despite my weight gain), and if I needed extra arch support (nope, my arches are high as hell). Because of my weight, she picked a few sneaker options that were high in stability and cushioned soles, and I went to town. After finding a pair that felt like I was floating on a cloud or walking on a pillow, she put me on a treadmill to run for 15 seconds. My feet were filmed, and when I got off, she played the video back in slow motion, just to check and make sure my alignment in the sneakers were good (toe lining up with ankle, heel, and knee). They did! And this was the glorious result.

Anxious to try them out, I convinced my mom to do the 3 mile loop around Tod's Point Beach with me. I put on my heart rate monitor, my new shoes, and grabbed my water bottle, ready to enjoy some quiet time with my mom. The view wasn't too shabby either. Plus, I managed to burn 500 calories.

 On our way home, I asked my mom to show me where her gym was. She knew she was going to have to go into work tomorrow, so I wanted to be prepared for my workout without her there to push me. Turns out I probably won't need a push. As soon as we stopped in the gym, I was taken aback by my urge to really break a sweat. My three mile walk had felt more like a warm up than true exercise, and I decided to do a quick weight training session while my mom went upstairs to start on dinner. I grabbed a pair of 15 lb weights and went to town. 4x12 sets of squats to shoulder press, straight leg deadlifts, lateral raises, lateral dips, lateral pull downs, bicep curls--and finishing things off with 100 crunches holding the 10 lb plate above my head. My quick session raised my total calories burned to nearly 1k calories. Far more than I'd originally anticipated.

And though I'm sitting in bed now, soreness starting to creep into my muscles, I feel incredibly accomplished. At no point did I feel like I was being forced into eating something healthy or working out. After two weeks, it's simply part of my routine--something I HAVE to do, just as important as sleeping or showering or watching all my shows!

Something I haven't done yet, however, is weigh myself. It's something I'm still a little scared to do. What if the numbers haven't changed at all? What if they've changed too little? What if I've gained weight (I know that's implausible but my brain works in crazy ways). One of my promises to myself is that I will weigh myself this week. By Sunday, I will have a weigh day, and that will be my new weekly weigh day for this journey. I decided that with each 10 lbs I lose, I'm going to treat myself with something (non-food related, of course). For my final goal, I want to take a weekend trip away somewhere. Santa Barbara or Palm Springs or Vegas? But with my current bank account's state, I need the treats leading up to that final prize to be somewhat economical. If anyone has any suggestions, I need 9 more treats/presents to myself to fill in! Because, as always, I'm going to keep doing this.

DAY 1.

I can’t remember a time where I’ve ever been proud of my body. I realized this the other week when my mom came to visit and expressed her concern for my current weight. “Remember when you were dancing in high school? You had so much more respect for your body then. You looked so great, and you were so happy!” And while she said it with such pride and reverence, but I remember those times somewhat differently. I remember crying myself to sleep after realizing that one of my dance costumes was a crop top and jazz pants. And being too ashamed of my 16 year old body to show it on stage that winter. So, I made a change. I cut out all carbs (complex or otherwise), and forced myself to eat only lean proteins and veggies. I lost about 20 lbs before my dance show. Finally attaining the body I’d always wanted. I’m sure some of you are saying, “Wow! That’s great! What discipline!” But the truth is, I was miserable. Even when I reached my lowest weight, I insisted on wearing a nude colored leotard under my crop top because I was uncomfortable with the curve to my stomach. Before our first show, one of our choreographers made us sugar cookies in the shape of dance shoes to celebrate our hard work. I watched on as all the other girls ate their cookies happily. But a wave of fear and guilt overtook me. How could those girls eat this cookie with such little thought? It scared me. If I had a bite, would I lose all my hard work? Would I seem undisciplined? It took me about fifteen minutes to give in to taking one minuscule bite, and then I gave the rest away to a friend, completely miserable and ashamed.

This unhealthy relationship with food has continued for the last 11 years. The last two of which have resulted in an 100 lb weight gain. Yes. 100 lbs. I went from my lowest weight to my very highest - the last 50 of which have been put on in the past 6 months. When I gained the first half, I attributed it to being depressed. I was single, frustrated with my job, and had just passed the five year anniversary of being raped. I felt hopeless, and I turned to food as a coping mechanism. I remember the day I looked at the scale and realized I’d passed 200 lbs. I cried. None of my clothes fit anymore. It was torture to get dressed for the day, and I hated looking at my body. My incredible little sister managed to take me to Lane Bryant and help me buy a wardrobe that would fit my new figure. “It’s temporary,” she said, “But you still have to look good while you’re losing weight.” I tried on jeans for the first time in a year, and she burst into tears. “You…just…look…so…good,” she squeaked out between tears. I nearly started crying, too. How could I have let myself get to place where putting on jeans over leggings made my baby sister cry? I vowed to myself to keep making positive changes. I wore my jeans to work, and kept working out. I used my tax refund to pay for a personal trainer, and I was finally on my way to getting below 200 lbs.

So, what happened? How did I go from making that turn, realizing I was on the path to destruction, making positive changes, to ending up where I am now? The truth is, I gave up. Unable to maintain my training sessions after my tax money was used up, I tried to rely on myself to continue forward, but I didn’t. I “cheated” on one meal, and then continued cheating. I drank too much. I ordered too much take out. One bad week turned into one bad month, and so on and so on. I convinced myself it was unhealthy to feel guilty for eating the things I wanted to be eating, and suddenly every day became a “treat yo’self” day. My life had turned into a diet I was constantly breaking, and I had no motivation to change it.

But that really changed after the new year. I stepped on the scale for the first time in 6 months and realized I was 50 lbs heavier. I knew my plus size clothing had gotten a bit more snug, that getting dressed in the morning was a challenge once again, but I never imagined another 50 lb gain. I took notice of new stretch marks on my stomach and up my back. I didn’t recognize myself. I felt like Monica in the FRIENDS flashbacks where she wears the fat suit. Only, I couldn’t take mine off. It was a part of me. In the past three months I have a cried a LOT. I’ve tried to start my fitness routine multiple times, only to ruin it with junk food. My physical limitations are vast. My knees hurt all the time. I can barely walk up the stairs to my apartment without breaking a sweat. The movie theater seats don’t fit my hips anymore. Even sitting down for a prolonged amount of time is uncomfortable - my weight has made it hard for me to breathe deeply unless I’m lying down. My father was 400 lbs at his heaviest weight. I remember being so embarrassed of him, not wanting him to come to my shows because I was afraid he was going to break the seats in our school theater. And I can’t help but feel like I’m approaching that for myself. Below is a picture of my back as of yesterday. I asked my boyfriend to take a picture of my back because I didn't think I could handle seeing myself from the front. His reply? "I don't think you're going to like the back either." And it's true I hate it. I truly do. 

And I just can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to be ashamed of my body. I don’t want to flake out on my friends because I don’t have anything in my closet to wear. I don’t want to make my little sister cry because she’s worried about my weight ever again. So, today starts a new journey. I’m sure it will have its ups and downs, but I’m putting myself out there. Making my journey entirely transparent so the whole world (or whoever might stumble upon this blog) will be able to hold my accountable. 

I’m going to be posting my food intake, macro breakdowns, my exercise summaries, as well as progress photos here. It’s not going to be pretty. I know I will feel like giving up at times, but I’m finally doing this for myself. I am first going to work on my relationship with food. I can’t feel guilty about the things I eat anymore, but I also want to be healthy. That’s why, I have no goal weight. All I want to do is work on being happy and healthy. Feel free to comment and leave encouragement and positivity. I know I will be needing all the support I can get in the coming months. Let's do this, okay?