Uncategorized

Clips and commando. :)

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 4 Comments
10501730_10152976393155130_8265820493417137005_n
Abbigayle is a sassy, brave, vibrant young lady who lives with Type 1 Diabetes. We were riding in the Diabetes Association TourdeCure this past summer. She is my inspiration!

It’s the time of year for me to get my bike, Jenny, out and start riding!

My bike is named Jennyanydots after a character in the play CATS.  Jennyanydots’ job is self-prescribed; she keeps the mice and cockroaches in line and away from destructive, mischievous behaviors.

PURRFECT (get the pun?!) reminder for someone who intends to keep 220 pounds off and T2 Diabetes solidly in remission through lifestyle changes…

Jenny is a glittering metallic black frame with polka dots 🙂 and pink bar wrap.

ZBmb3AXflp9WtvEg-d081ES_1y1a_iGe4F0PYRjUpYEI love her. 🙂

She has taught me a few really important lessons.

Beyond learning about endurance, confidence, camaraderie and new levels of fitness, I would have to say the most memorable lessons so far involved clips and bike shorts.

Anyone who rides is probably starting to chuckle to themselves…  The lessons those two items teach seem to be legend.  MANY funny stories start with one of those items in the starring role…

Once learned; they are never forgotten. 🙂

We’ll start with bike shorts. First thing you should know is that the padded portion of the shorts — that align with the seat to protect your valuable parts — is actually called the chamois.

It totally makes you feel like you are walking around with a full diaper.

They are flattering on NO ONE.  Ever.

And yet they are wickedly useful if you want to be on your bike for longer than… oh… a mile.

In general if it’s a good pair of shorts, padded for a gender specific rider; they are worth their weight in gold.

The biggest lesson about the chamois?  It’s NOT meant to be worn with underwear. It is really meant to be the only thing next to your skin.

No one ever told me that.

I knew women who were riding when I started and I’m still kind of pissed that not a single one of them clued me in on this important little tidbit…

The shorts I bought – true, they were clearance rack specials – didn’t have any kind of instructions or warning labels.  Just how to wash and care for the chamois.

Turns out underwear will eventually create additional friction points INSIDE of the shorts… And you can get some spectacular chafing on longer rides.  Like the kind of chafing that leaves scars.

So about mile 28 on my first 65-miler I find myself pitching my bike to the ground and waddling into a porta-potty to strip off my bike shorts and underwear.  I stuffed the underwear – not even remotely trying to be subtle — into the nearest trash can. And getting OUT of those bike shorts with my feet still in bike shoes/clips, while trapped in a tiny and miserably hot porta-potty? I’ll remember the experience for the rest of my life.

Limping back out to my biking companions begging for lube/glide/anti-chafe/numbing relief was humbling and embarrassing as hell.

Desperation won.

My ALL male riding companions were highly amused and entertained as this played out. I was not. I was miserable. There was NO WAY to hide it — they all knew what the issue was. My only solace?  One of them got to laughing at me so hard, he tipped over on his bike.  SMALL, petty victory. But a victory for my ego.

I got things as squared away as possible.  Finished the ride.  And walked funny for the next two weeks.  That was July 2013. I have biked plenty of underwear-free, happy, amazing miles since that day. 🙂

So… next up would be clips…

I was so hesitant to ride with clips.

I was convinced that I would be attaching myself to a death contraption with no way to escape.  They looked scary. I had heard stories about how they took some serious getting used to.

I finally realized that I loved riding enough to figure out this clipping in/out thing…  A couple of friends wore me down. They convinced me that it would make a noticeable, positive difference over distances and on hills.  (For the record, they were right!)

I got great advice from my friends Joe and Josh who had their own war stories about learning the ins/outs of clips.

  • Clip in WHILE holding onto a barn/door frame.
  • Practice the little ankle/heel flicking motion that un-clips your foot — practice it a ton — while your bike is stable and NOT moving.
  • THEN ride on grass or a soft surface.
  • Practice pushing off, clipping in, clipping out and stopping on a soft surface.
  • ONLY THEN should you go out on the road.

I practiced a bunch. I felt great and confident.

I mean HOW could I possibly forget that my FREAKING feet are attached to my bike?!?

Off I went.  I did great!  I rode for about 3 miles.  Felt confident.  Could feel that I could use my legs pushing AND pulling and that these clips were going to let me use ALL of my muscles to make the bike move!  It was truly an exhilarating feeling!

Then I hit the stop sign to cross Highway 226.

I started to stop.

I PANICKED.

I suddenly could NOT remember how to get my feet unattached from the bike.  I tried pulling my feet up — which is NOT the motion. It’s a simple, fairly dainty ankle/heel flick away from the bike that actually does the uncoupling…

I stopped at the stop sign, yanking WILDLY on my feet…

ALL practice totally forgotten.

I tipped over, in a very gentle fashion, in super slow motion…   Totally attached to both pedals.

A trucker passing by slowed down and, realizing I was OK, merrily honked at me and gave me the thumbs up sign. I flipped him off as I laid on my side, tangled in my bike, laughing and trying to figure out how I was going to get my feet unattached and get up off the ground.

I got it figured out and started off again — this time vowing to practice clipping in and out LONG before the next stop.

I STILL think about clipping in/out LONG before I plan to stop. 🙂

Heel flicks and Commando. 🙂 

That’s what my bike has taught me so far.

I know we’re not done learning together. 🙂

What lessons has your bike taught you?

10462717_10152922961666258_1861464687779942083_n
Gum, Pote and me on a kickass girls summer ride. We were tearing up the road. 🙂

Friends.

~ betsyhartley392 ~ Leave a comment
image1-4
“I will support you. But I am also going to call you out on your sh&* if I think you are being  ridiculous or not healthy.’ — Jeff Sherman

Relationships get stressed and tested when we make sweeping, large, epic lifestyle changes.

I know that this is not new news.

Our friends can help and support and be our biggest fans. And they can hurt us and challenge us.

Beyond the ‘how do I get motivated to start?’ question — questions about managing friendships and the tensions created with food, diet and exercise are a close second.

Fractures in friendships are serious, heart-wrenching stuff. Especially if they occur during a time where we are actively trying to create changes and make things better for ourselves.

This blog question is from someone I have never met:

‘I think I am going to have to ‘divorce’ my friend.

It is either my health or her friendship. I have lost a good amount of weight, with much more to lose.  I am pre-diabetic.

She shows up to my house weekly with candy and homemade junk food for my kids.  I’m trying to set a better example for my kids AND I can’t have that crap around my house.

I have asked her to NOT bring it into my house. She always agrees. Then she shows up with goodies for the kids and says ‘this is the last time…’

She doesn’t understand that she isn’t the one I am going to pick if she really forces me to choose…

What do I do?  Did you ever experience this?’

In case you think she is alone, I also get asked:

‘My friend is my biggest supporter. We’ve each lost a bunch of weight. Now she’s stalled and I am still losing weight…  Things are tense.” (I get asked the reverse of this as well; ‘I’m stalled and battling jealousy’.)

‘My friend keeps trying to sabotage my eating plan.’

‘My friend keeps making mean remarks about what I eat/don’t eat.’

Anyone reading these comments will probably think one of three things:

  • That has TOTALLY happened to me!
  • I would NEVER do something that hurtful to any of my friends.
  • Are people really that mean?

This kind of thing has very likely happened if you have made ANY kind of significant lifestyle change. Perceptions and interactions with our friends change because something in our life changes to shift the balance/focus/dynamic. There is a learning curve involved for everyone. Some handle it better than others.

And you HAVE done this kind of crap to your friends when they were succeeding at something and you were NOT. You can sit there shaking your head at me… But you have. We somehow feel threatened by someone elses success or determination or bravery. We have all done some version – subtle or overt – of NOT supporting a friend who is in the midst/grip of a lifestyle change.  We have ALL been ‘that’ friend at some point, no matter how hard we tried not to be.

People can be mean. Especially when they are hurt, cornered, scared, defeated, embarrassed or jealous…  And people who KNOW us are some of the most capable of inflicting deep wounds. I try to remember that meanness often comes from a place of hurt; damn near impossible to remember when you are the target. But meanness is actually about THEM, not about me/you.

When it comes to forging a new, healthy path you might find yourself having to draw a line in the sand (or build a brick wall!) to protect yourself and what you are working towards…

Even with friends.

What happens when that line gets crossed, muddied, disrespected, trampled on?

The growth, death or transformation of our friendships is very much a natural part of all the change that occurs and that we create with a major lifestyle overhaul.

Being told change is natural is something we can grasp intellectually.

But understanding all of the dynamics involved in changing friendships as it plays out in real-time, in our lives, is a whole other story…

What happened with my friendships over the 3.5 years of this journey?

I still have many of my same friends. Honest. I was AMAZED to discover how many of my relationships were based entirely on food. We have since found other ways to value, grow and enjoy our friendship.

I am blessed to have a small handful of close friends who are actively a part of this never-ending journey. Some old, some new. But ALL, without ANY exceptions are 100% supportive of the new lifestyle I have built. It’s a tight and intimate circle of folks that I can count on one hand.

There are some friends that are no longer a part of my life. The relationships simply and quietly went away for a variety of reasons. We drifted apart. We just let it happen.

Finally, and the part most folks are really curious about…  A few friends said mean things, were openly not supportive or were creating problems. Actions and words spoke loudly and clearly.

The result was TOUGH conversations and severing of contact that was purposeful.

I struggled HARD with how to handle the friendship-ending issues.

I always want to protect and preserve friendships to the extent possible. I don’t take friendships for granted or throw them away.

The conclusion I finally reached was that to preserve the friendship in each of these cases would be to sacrifice in some way, shape or form what I was trying to do to reclaim my health.

A friend would NOT ask me to make that kind of sacrifice.

In a confused sort of way, they actually helped me make the hard decision.

I saved the best for last. 🙂

I have more than my fair share of stalwart and solid friends who have been on this crazy adventure with me.  I lucked out.  I know it.

They’re doing the hard work right beside me.

They coach me through eating ONE serving of dark chocolate – and not the whole bar the first time I ventured out to try to add chocolate back into my diet after 3.5 years.

They guard the bushes and trails while I jump off the path to… uh… get close with nature.

They meet me at the gym at o’dark thirty to lift weights with a smile on their face.

They find places to eat that make food choices easy for me.  And they enjoy it as much as I do.

They remind me of where I was a year/two years ago — and not-at-all-gently remind me to STOP COMPARING anything to anyone other than my old self.

THOSE actions speak so loudly; you can’t even even hear the words.  🙂

I know there were rough spots over the past few years with some folks who grabbed my attention for a short while; but all along my heart has belonged to this tribe of people who seem as committed to my success as I am.

They’re my friends.

I’m lucky to have them.

They have made all the difference in my world.

Please tell me your ‘make-us-jealous-they’re-not-our-friend’ kind of stories. 🙂    IMG_6626-2

You’re telling me I can never eat candy again?

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 14 Comments
Apple
Candy. 🙂

*This blog is a little messy, because the topic is messy.  No matter how I tried to organize or clean it up, it just wouldn’t cooperate.  And it’s personal. Fair warning. 🙂 

Just about daily, someone asks me what I ate to lose weight or manage blood glucose for Type 2 diabetes.

A lot of people are interested in the food dynamics for BOTH of these issues.

The bulk of these conversations are people who are a) genuinely curious or b) want confirmation that what they are doing is the right thing.  We tend to get really chatty and animated about food and helpful tips!

A handful of the conversations are people trying to convert me to their way of thinking/eating.  If it works for them — great!

A handful of the conversations are people questioning my choices. These conversations, as you can imagine, go a little differently.  It’s usually heralded by a comment like ‘Well, then what are you allowed to eat….?’  First, I try really hard not to get defensive. Then, I quickly let them know that I am NOT being punished or on a ‘diet’; I am simply and willingly MAKING choices based on what works best for me.

I usually end the conversation right there.

I will freely admit that any of the above mentioned conversations can easily get a little more confusing than normal.  Why?  Because I will eventually admit that I personally made choices to ban certain foods from my life. People are justifiably curious about why I have chosen to do that. (Hence the title question of this blog.)

The honest answer?

They’re banned in my life because of my total lack of control.

I am not one of those humans blessed with the skill of ‘moderation’.

Eat one cookie? A bite of a candy bar? One small slice of pizza?  Yeah… Right…

I have learned these past 3 years that I’m an all-or-nothing kind of girl.

That’s really good stuff to know about yourself.

I have had people get — literally — in my face about my food choices.  As recent as this week.

It’s when I choose NOT to eat something that usually triggers the harshest of comments.

‘Your diet would KILL me’, ‘your life has to be so boring if you can’t even eat cake…’ and my favorite (not) ‘just ONE bite is NOT going to kill you…’

There’s more – but you get the idea.

I have a few things I do when I feel confronted or questioned about food;

  • Walk away.
  • Find a friend who knows my story and stand with them. I still lack self-confidence and strength (maturity?) in my relationship with food. I know it. I seek out FRIENDS for comfort instead of food these days. Maybe this is not a healthy trade-off, but it works for now as I am still learning coping skills and gaining confidence.
  • Decline invitations if I know that my food choices are going to be scrutinized or my decision to NOT eat is going to be taken poorly or cause problems for the host/hostess.
  • Just take a portion of whatever is being adamantly pushed and quietly get rid of it.

I am working HARD to make the choices that work best for me and for sustaining my healthy lifestyle.  Non-stop learning.

The biggest hurdle for me continues to be understanding and accepting that NOT everyone needs to approve of what I do, of the choices I make…  And learning to resist the urge to apologize, explain or defend my choices to everyone.

I AM NOT asking anyone else to buy into this crazy, neurotic food ride that I am on.

But it works for me, and me alone.

The one comment that always makes me defensive?

The ‘One bite…’ comment.

People are seriously taping into the deepest of my emotional injuries with that comment and they don’t even realize it…

One bite COULD kill me.

OK… NOT literally at this point in my health journey.

But when I was managing T2 diabetes and battling life-long obesity… FOOD was a very real, dangerous, controlling drug of sorts for me.

When I was trying to establish new, strong habits — one bite could be a real mental/emotional unraveling down a very, very steep and slippery slope. And I knew it. One bite could be the difference between winning and losing a battle.

Or winning and losing the entire war.

Why?  Because that is ALWAYS what had happened in the past.

Having ‘one bite’ is not about being flexible or daring or easy-going or accomodating…

FOR ME, that ‘one bite’ was entirely about the act of GIVING up and giving in. One small step at a time.

One bite leads to two… And that is exactly how you wind up 392 pounds at age 42.

I’d lost the battle countless times.  I know the ‘one bite’ battle all too well.

I have had to work hard to re-frame my entire relationship with food. It’s one of the parts that’s not overtly visible unless you eat with me often, read my food journals or I have chosen to confide in you… So that’s about 3 people. Seriously.

So what did I have to re-frame? What are my goals now?

  • Food is fuel.  I treat food as a means to fueling my life, my goals.
  • I focus on only eating when I am physically ‘belly’ hungry.

I had to first work hard to move away from thinking of food as comfort, peace, solace, friendship. Thats what it had been most of my life.

Then I had another big leap to make when I was in the throes of battling Type 2 Diabetes to move away from thinking of food as poison or adversarial.

It has been constant, private, hard work.

And I’m not done. Not done by a long shot.

So am I really saying no more of certain foods, ever again?  For me; yes. That is MY choice,and it’s worked more than 3.5 years.

I think some of my struggles and battles with food choices might resonate with a handful of folks. BUT my strategies and tactics and ‘all or nothing’ approach with food – NO, it won’t work for most people.  I totally understand that and would never actively encourage folks to follow in my exact footsteps.

Everyone has to find their own path to healthy.  Make their own choices.  Discover what works for them…

FullSizeRender
Iced black coffee. 🙂 My favorite treat!

I can tell you that it is a path well worth finding… 🙂

Trigger point

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 5 Comments
IMG_6026-2
…all kinds of great paths have opened up for me… 🙂

I often get asked what the trigger point was for my lifestyle overhaul.

I always stumble around for a good answer. I never quite know what to say because the truth is…  Well, it’s just messy.

I did reach a point (July 2010) where I knew I was DONE with the way I was living my life. I wanted to be on a new path. No matter what it took. I felt that shift physically.

My gut and heart were finally ready to follow my mind.

But there were life-long cascading events that led up to that actual moment in July 2010…

I was fat. Not fitting in chairs. Special clothes. Exceeding weight limits. Routinely being the largest person in a room.

Unhealthy. Fatty liver. Cholesterol levels that were sketchy. High blood pressure. A category I’ll politely label ‘female issues’.

Diabetic, Type 2.  Daily injections for blood glucose control. Finger sticks. Drugs to help with complications. Swinging highs/lows that made me oh-so-much-fun to be around.

I had grown used to all of this.

It was all manageable.

But there was a single, big event that changed my world…

My world stopped on 3/10/10 just after 9 in the morning when my mom died.

We had been fighting, all-out, to save her for months.

She died of MRSA.

MRSA is a drug resistant staph. A ‘super bug’.  For my mom, it was a massive, systemic staph infection that could not be controlled. As time went by, NONE of the drugs available in the US worked, not even the experimental drugs, combinations.

My mom had a seriously compromised immune system. She had Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA) from when she was 32. Complications from RA, for her, were diabetes and kidney failure. She was in renal failure when MRSA grabbed hold. She was a desperately difficult case for OHSU (Oregon’s teaching hospital) to work on. We were told routinely how dire and complicated things were.

The infection and complications overwhelmed her body 6 days after her 66th birthday.

I grieved. Hard. For more than a year I was secluded, closed-off and wounded. Hell, I’m still grieving 5 years later.  My mom was one of my best friends. She shouldn’t have died. But her health was so complicated and compromised that her body couldn’t help her fight off the infection.

After she died I began to realize a few things…

I hurt my back 4 months before she died. Bulged 2 discs in my lower back.  I tripped and fell. The doctor told me the weight of my belly is likely what pulled my back apart, the fall shouldn’t have done it. I was drugged into oblivion for pain management. I was crippled to the point that I couldn’t bend over my moms ICU bed and kiss her cheek as she was dying…

I will never get over that. Not even going to try. Being fat had finally caught up with me.

This was the first time I ever remember feeling resentment, remorse, disgust, regret (not sure of the right word….) at having let myself get so fat and unhealthy.

And I saw some incredible things in our time at the hospital. I realized that a good long-term strategy for survival is to NOT NEED healthcare/hospitals. I was, at 42, a surgical candidate for a back injury related to my weight, taking 3 shots a day for type 2 diabetes, 6-7 other meds. I was dependent on lots of doctors to keep me healthy.

Do you see where this is all leading…??!

Eventually I did too.

It took about 16 months for me to piece it all together and decide that it time to act.

One other note…  (I said this was messy!)

Grieving changes you. Fundamentally. It scars you. It tears you to shreds.  You literally feel like your heart is bleeding. You are in a blinding mental fog. And oddly, it makes you stronger than you ever thought possible. All of the sudden you are fiercely protective of loved ones and friends; protecting others is the only emotional outlet for the shit storm that is your mind and heart. Grief makes you so weak and vulnerable you sit passively, even in public, with tears streaming down your face because you don’t even have the energy to properly cry…

If you’ve grieved — you know what I’m talking about. You have your own definitions and examples for what it does to your life, your mind and your heart.

Having said that…

I began to realize that my mom would be so, so disappointed in me if I kept living my life as the walking dead. What kind of tribute was that to my mom?!  She was INCREDIBLE and loved life and cherished people and enjoyed every moment she was given — until the very end.

I had to do that same… I had to live a FULL life.  Not a half life of adapting and getting by.

I began to understand that the biggest tribute I could possibly pay to my mom (and dad!) is to show people that I CHOOSE to live life, love people and enjoy each moment I am given.

Things had to change.

The best visual I have come up with is that things were piling up.

Instead of them piling up on top of me and being suffocated by them – like I had always done in the past, this time; I stood on them.

They piled up.  And I just kept blindly and stubbornly scrambling and climbing over them and standing on them.

I didn’t want to be suffocated.  Or squished.  Or buried. Anymore.

I wanted to LIVE.

But… WHY this time?  I had learned to live life as a fat woman.  I was managing my diabetes. I was getting by just fine.

Was my trigger point all really tied to my mom’s death? Was it the little things piling up? Was it just that I finally found a spark of bravery and determination that I had never felt/found/noticed before…

I really don’t know.

I think it was more likely a perfect storm and I was finally ready.

Perhaps too simple an answer to satisfy folks who are looking to be motivated for their own life change… But I really do think it was the right things at the right time and I had just enough guts to make a run for it – and quickly found the right people and tools and encouragement.

It’s still a daily fight to stay in control of food. I keep an eagle eye on my weight and work hard to keep it stable. I still hit snooze sometimes before getting my butt out of bed to go run. 🙂  I won’t lie to you. I understand that I will have daily battles the rest of my life to keep the good habits in the forefront.

Game on.

My mom was proud of me. She made sure I KNEW that every single day of my life. And I know she would be just as proud of me now.

I am a very lucky girl to be so well loved.

I also know that if she was still alive she would be begging my dad to create a wheelchair with all-terrain wheels and a seat belt so I could push her into the hills on trail runs and she would be my running partner…  🙂

IMG_6265
Mom. Fishing Diamond Lake. She is pointing the biggest fish to let everyone know that’s the one she caught… 🙂

More than the eye can see…

~ betsyhartley392 ~ Leave a comment

FullSizeRender

‘You have no idea what it’s like to fight your weight…’

I joined a conversation with two coworkers. They introduced me to the 3rd person in their group.  As I walked up they were talking about losing weight and exercising. They were chattering loudly about how hard it all was to make it work, where to start and how to stick to it.  I didn’t say anything right off, but I eventually piped in. I said something generic about eating less and moving more…

The woman I had just met kind of eyeballed me and said ‘You obviously have no idea what it’s like to have to fight your weight…’

I literally choked on my coffee and sputtered/snorted/cackled.  VERY ladylike and polite. 🙂

Here are the thoughts that zipped through my head:

First: A chance to talk about lasting lifestyle changes. Eat less. Move more… Open door… Walk through it!

Second: Lightly stunned. Someone threw judgement out verbally at someone they had JUST met.  Mentally, we all do that kind of judging and assessing crap – even if we don’t want to admit to it.  But she said it out loud. (Says the woman who notoriously has a broken filter… 🙂 )

Third: WOW!  GREAT reminder. EVERY single person we meet has a history, a battle, a fight, a problem, a triumph, a story, that WE KNOW NOTHING ABOUT.  Things are not always how they look. What was this woman’s story??!  What was going on…?

Fourth:  ASS is a key part of the word assumption.

Fifth:  This woman has no idea that I wake up every morning still convinced I weigh 392 pounds and that it takes me a minute or two to realize I’m not that person anymore… Every. Single. Day.

How was I going to tell this woman I just met — “You are more wrong that you can possibly even begin to understand” and do it kindly?

I smiled and quietly said ‘Oh, but I really, really do get it…’

She responded with a shrug and slight eye roll that I took to mean ‘ yeah… right… whatever….’

I quickly told her the basics; I reversed type 2 diabetes. Got off all injections/meds. Lost 220 pounds. FOUGHT like a freaking-possessed-maniac to learn how to run and love exercise.  LOVE where my life has taken me. Fight for it each and every day.  Fight for it with EACH and every food choice.  FIGHT for it each and every day when I decide to get out of bed and meet my friends at the gym or go for a run.

She said ‘ok… so maybe you do kind of get it…  tell me more…”

We’re going to grab coffee this next week.

I want to hear her story.

Soapbox warning. 🙂

I’ve been stewing on this exchange and my thoughts about it for over a week.

I knew there was a bigger lesson buried in there for me, if I wanted to figure it out.

I decided that this whole conversation was really a GREAT big reminder for me about the bigger picture of life.

Everyone I meet is hurting and battling something.  Or more than one, single something.

Everyone has something in their background, their back story, that has shaped them into who they are today.

Not all of it is visible.  Not all of it is public. Some of it is happening right before our eyes.

I need to go easy on our fellow humans. 

I need to ask more questions and listen carefully.

And I have to QUIT assuming if I want people to quit assuming things about me…

There is always more than the eye can see.

Step on the scale. (Said the spider to the fly…)

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 6 Comments
Here is what I wrote to a woman who told me she was upset over gaining back a pound after days of solid, diligent work…
“QUIT stepping on the scale more than once a week. YES the scale gives us feedback, but it can also LIE. It does not take into account everything that’s going on or all of the other areas in which we have GREAT progress. It’s a number. A snapshot. A moment in time. AT BEST. The bottom line in this life-long-healthy-adventure is that we move and feel strong and eat as smart as we can. PERIOD. The scale will follow or settle or do whatever in the heck it is going to do and we are NOT going to be ruled by it. I would love for you to be healthy and happy and not give a damn about a number on a scale. That number tells the world absolutely NOTHING about the fabulous and amazing young woman you really are. And for the record, the irony in me telling you this is that I struggle with the scale everyday. This is my fight too.’

I have a vastly unhealthy relationship with my scale.

Lifelong, screwed-up relationship. I have always allowed a number on the scale to tell me if I am ‘good’ or ‘bad’.

It’s has been an abnormally INTENSE battle these past 6 weeks.

Here’s what’s been going on;

Since my 50K in December, 6+ weeks ago, the scale has been slowly climbing. It was perilously close to the top end of the range that I set for myself.  160-169. And it was climbing despite doing what I know normally works.

I’ve technically reached the weight I want to be; I am spending the next 3 years learning how to maintain.  Maintaining things is hard work.

The advice from people who have been successful at KEEPING weight off for life?

  1. Have a range to aim for. Give yourself no more than 10 pounds of wiggle room.
  2. If you get to the top end of the range – it’s time to put on the brakes. Go back to the behaviors that helped you be successful.

I had control over the scale most of the Summer/Fall.  I was only weighing myself every two or three weeks. For months it held steady at 162.

I LOVED that I was moving and eating and doing the right things and the scale validated all of it. I felt great, normal, healthy.

I want to get back to that.

About 10 days after the race in December… I was feeling fat and lazy and sluggish because we were in rest/recovery. I knew better; but I started watching the scale. Waiting for it to STOP going up.

Spencer reassured me. I read articles. Taryn and I talked. Josh and Wendie told me stories about it.  The people I trusted and loved all basically said ‘chill, this is normal…’

But given my history; I was deathly afraid that this was not normal. I was SURE that this was the beginning of me re-gaining every single one of those 220 pounds.  That’s the idea/fear that was totally consuming my brain.

I have experience being fat.

I do NOT (YET!) have experience maintaining a loss or stopping a gain.

Since January 1 we’re back to training. I’m eating solidly within my calories for the day. And the scale is STILL creeping up…

So about 2 weeks ago I decided it was time to panic.

I think that’s a perfectly reasonable reaction given the situation.

I was talking to Taryn (registered dietitian and friend) about my concerns and what I was doing to try to stop the climbing numbers…

The look on her face grew increasingly concerned as I described my habits.

  • I was weighing daily. Up to three times a day.
  • I had hidden my scale from myself. Un-hide it, step on it, hide it again. In my own house.
  • I felt anxious.  Constantly.

Here’s the part I didn’t tell Taryn in exact detail…

One day the scale was higher than it should have been, by an unreasonable amount. I felt ANXIOUS. Like I was going to cry or throw up. I felt totally out of control. My heart felt like it was exploding out of my chest.

I KNEW it was a ridiculous physical response. I wear a heart rate monitor for running. Out of curiosity I put on my HR monitor to see if I was imagining all of this…

In a resting or non-active state the numbers for me should be anywhere from 45-80ish.  When I am running easy and comfortable and can chat with my friends  it ranges in the 125-140’s.

As I was panicking about the STUPID number on the scale it was at 132.

My heart was working as if I was running, but I was STANDING perfectly still in the middle of my bedroom.

I needed help.  And lucky for me; that’s right when Taryn staged an intervention. She didn’t realize how perfect her timing was.

She told me to stuff the scale in a bag, put it in the trunk of the car and hand it over.

‘Do NOT weigh anymore.’

I of course stepped on it the night before and the morning of — in total defiance. My last two little data-points on this roller coaster.

But I hauled it to work.  Handed it over.

image1-6 copyTaryn has given me good advice on ways to collect feedback and judge progress that don’t rely on a scale.

I am focused on learning how to accept those as legit pieces of feedback on my weight stability.

  • Are my pants fitting tight?
  • How do I feel when I run?
  • Am I being honest in writing down all I eat?
  • How many calories/quality of calories am I eating consistently?
  • How do I FEEL?

She has been talking to me about this stuff all along.  But now?  Now I am a motivated listener. 🙂  (Sorry Taryn!)

Taryn is in possession of my scale. I will weigh in with her bi-weekly. (We agreed; I won’t look at the number. She just tells me if I am within the range.)

You wanted the ugly stuff.

Welcome to my fight with the scale.

BUT I intend to win this time. What does winning look like in this case?

  • I weigh once a month to make sure I’m in range.
  • I eat healthy and whole and clean.
  • I stay active.
  • I make a smart food choice and eat when I am hungry.
  • If my favorite pair of pants gets snug; I will go back to the eating plan that helped me lose weight in the first place until my pants fit comfy again.

That’s what freedom from the scale looks like to me.

That’s my goal for 2015.

I will believe the words I wrote above at some point on this journey. 🙂

You wanted honesty and the ugly side of this whole battle…  Here it is.

Anyone else struggle with their scale?  Please tell me I am not alone…

#weightisjustanumberandnumberslie

Sucker for marketing…. (The Boobypack.)

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 4 Comments
IMG_6402
I have tried just about every bra ever made. Meet my biggest mistake to date. 🙂

What’s the dumbest/most useless/funniest item I spent money on during this lifestyle journey?

This is tough. There are SO many to pick from…

I am a total SUCKER for marketing.

Fun pictures, great promises, time-saver, one-of-a-kind? I’m willing to give it a shot. I mean — what the heck! I have made some great discoveries over the years; lipsticks, shoes, stores, hotels — lots of great, fun gems uncovered because I’m a sucker for marketing.

But as you would expect, not all of my choices/investments work out… In fact a few of them REALLY didn’t work out.

And while some would argue that my biggest folly to date is probably the ‘P EZ; A Travel Urinal’… I personally think that my biggest mistake was ‘The Boobypack’.

Yup.

‘The Boobypack; a fanny pack for your rack’.

But I just HAD to try it!

I am known (sadly) for using my bra as a purse. It’s a genetic thing, I’m fairly sure.

With friends, if my phone or keys go missing the common refrain, no humor injected, is ‘Bets, did you check your bra?’  Honest question.  Answer is usually…  Pat, pat, retrieve…. ‘Yes! Found it!’

So to find a bra, advertised as a sports bra, with zippered POCKETS and built with the intention of carrying stuff?!!

YOWZA!

I had to try it. It was going to solve ALL of my problems. This is what I had been searching for!

I picked a great color.  They had friendly customer service.  Lots of promising details in pockets and support and wearability.

Then it arrived in the mail.  I pulled it out of the box.

The moment of marketing truth…

It was cute!  I loved the color.

Then I put it on and really began to investigate and test it…

The bra was made of t-shirt-like material.  It didn’t control anything, even when I was walking. Slowly. With my arms crossed.

The straps were tiny and very stretchy. NOT designed to do any real work.  It was cute. That’s it. Cute in the sports bra world isn’t really very helpful.

They had SIGNIFICANT padding in them.  I come by that quite naturally thankyouverymuch. I don’t need help.  BONUS?! Once the padding was removed the front panels became virtually see through.   That’s fun. (Not.)

The pockets are oddly shaped and didn’t hold much.

Zippers started at the BACK of the bra. To put something in the pocket near the right underarm area you had to reach your left hand alllllll the way behind your right shoulder blade and pull the zipper BACK toward your front.  I couldn’t manage the zippers by myself if the bra was on — so whatever was in the pockets was just going to have to stay there until I took the bra off.  Not helpful.

Uh… No bottom band to support and catch the girls.  So… Well… Do I need to explain more?

If I were in charge of their marketing I would be tempted to tweak a few (or ALL) of their provided details…

So?  Why didn’t I return it?  Well… Even after trying it on and assessing all of this — I was SURE it was going to hold up better than it looked.  I was sure of it.  It had pockets.  It had to work!

So I took it out for an easy run.

I had packed a back-up bra JUST IN CASE my judgement was off… I’m an optimist — with plenty of experience. 🙂

Good thing.

After about 7 miserable minutes of running ‘totally free’, I conceded defeat.  This bra was not going to work. Even with pockets. I doubled back, walking, to my car. Corrected my mistake and then went back out for a run.

Totally irritated (literally and figuratively) I left the bra on the top of the trunk of the car in the hopes that someone would steal it. Or use it as wilderness TP.  Or a bird would fly off with it.

No such luck.  I still have it.

So the Boobypack has been my top failure.

So far…

I’ll let you now how my recent investment in the ‘Undress’ works out.  ‘Change clothes in public without getting naked.’

It should be here next week. 🙂

I’m not kidding.

I told you.  I am a sucker for marketing. 🙂

(What’s the one running/fitness thing you got suckered into buying that you wish you hadn’t…?)

#suckerformarketing #freetoagoodhome

I HATE running. So, how did you learn to love running?!

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 8 Comments
1501067_10153375932931258_7122044995604249637_o
Jeff and I, North Face, December 2014.  Those smiles? Genuine.

‘I HATE running. So, how did you learn to love running?!’

I get asked this question a bunch. As we near the end of January — resolutions being put to the test — I get asked with increasing urgency.

I answer their statement/question with a question.

‘Why do you want to love running?’

I really want to know WHY they think they have to love running specifically.

The truth is maybe they won’t love running.  It is not for everyone. And that’s OK.

The REAL issue is not running anyway.

Let’s be honest.

The key to healthy, sustainable success is to fall in love with SOME physical activity that you will consistently make time in your day to do. Something active, fun, rewarding and friend-based or solitude-giving. You may love swimming or hiking or cycling or walking or Zumba.

It does not have to be running. It just has to be something. 🙂 THAT is the secret.

Being active is what I fell in love with and what really changed my life. 

It just happens to be an activity called running. 🙂

Sometimes people really do want to know how to learn to love running specifically.

I can tell you how I got started. And we have to start with my mindset.

Run when chased.

Even then, only RUN if I didn’t stand a fighting chance.

One day about 3 years ago I realized that I would quickly and flippantly tell everyone that I hated running. Someone eventually challenged me about exactly WHY I hated it.  What specifically did I not enjoy?

The truth that grudgingly emerged was that I had NEVER, ever actually tried running.

I then had some honest conversations with myself about how I could hate something I actually knew nothing about and had no experience with…

This was my reasoning:

I’ve been overweight my entire life.

Overweight people don’t run.

Overweight people who try to run get made fun of (brutally so. Google it if you doubt me) and they look pathetically ridiculous.

I am not just ‘overweight’, I am morbidly obese. I am fat.

Therefore… I hate running.

With a passion.

And if I tell people I hate running — they’ll assume I have tried it and I am just choosing not to run.

They’ll never, ever guess that I’m saying I hate it because I’m fat and scared and know that it is beyond any fitness level I have ever had in my entire life.  It is beyond any amount of work or fitness I can possibly even begin to imagine…

Huh.

So I had few weeks of struggling with the topic and then finally had to admit to myself that I was deeply AFRAID of something I had never really bothered to try…

It’s a rough process to realize and acknowledge something really ugly, weak about yourself.

But this time I was NOT going to run from my fears. (Pun intended. Or is this irony?!) 🙂

It was time to put on my big girl panties and deal with things.  (Note: Like a lot of my female running friends, I don’t wear underwear with my running tights. ‘Big girl panties’ is just a figure of speech.) 🙂

Running for me sucked at the start.  Let’s just get that out of the way. It was physically painful. Mentally exhausting.  I was 230 pounds or so.

But I promised myself that this time I would give it a really solid effort and at least get PAST the fear to a personally informed opinion.

I pulled a beginners running plan off the internet, wore the best compression gear I could afford, made time for running each day, set mini-goals, told some friends.

I wholeheartedly, honestly tried running.

It was SLOW and painful at the start.  In an earlier blog I detailed how I literally started by running across a driveway on my daily walk.  That’s all I could handle.  I kept working to build distance and time.

I struggled.  Not gonna lie.

I would sweat so heavily – any time of year – I was drenched. My face would turn an alarming beet red and people would ask if I was OK. I would be red-faced and sweating for HOURS after working out.  My feet, legs and hips would hurt for days after an attempt. There were mean catcalls made out of car windows. My appetite went through the roof and I had to REALLY watch my food consumption to keep the scale creeping downward. I had to invest in better shoes, bras and specialty compression gear.

But the problem was…

After a few weeks of really, truly trying to run…

I kind of fell for it.

I loved the challenge. I loved feeling the accomplishment. I loved the people I was meeting who were unabashedly supportive. I loved how my blood sugars would swoop low and STAY there.  I loved how I felt a fierce sense of pride in my body and what I was asking her to do.  I loved that my body was working harder then ever and yet I knew she could do even more…

I kept trying.  And learning.  And meeting great people. And running further.

My ‘love’ for running was obviously NOT a love at first sight kind of thing.

It was a 2+ year process of stubbornly not giving up.

So the key to learning to ‘love’ running, as far as I am concerned???

Deciding I wanted something MORE than I was afraid of it AND just  NOT giving up. 🙂

There are legit physical issues that prevent people from running.  I get that.  I’m not here to ask you to do something you physically should not be doing.

But I am going to ask a much bigger question.  The question I had to ask myself.

What are you afraid of?

For me running was something I feared. That’s why I thought I hated it.

I didn’t hate running.  I was scared of being made fun of.  I was afraid I would look dumb.  I was paralyzed by where/how to even start.  I was terrified that people would pity me or mock me or be disgusted by me.

I was afraid of something I had never tried.

Once I tried it — really, truly gave it an honest effort — it began to change my life.

That first step is ALWAYS the hardest… But it was so, so worth braving it.

Running has changed my life.  And there is no doubt that it is part of what saved my life.

That is HOW I learned to love running. 🙂

#runhappy #lifeisgood

‘Maybe you just need to poop…’

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 3 Comments
IMG_2510
Wade. Blunt, honest and supportive. And he looks great in a bow tie. 🙂

I remember calling Wade about a year into this journey when I hit a really rough patch.

I told him I had been PERFECT for weeks on end (dramatic sigh!), ate perfectly, exercised daily and I had gained weight… (whiny disbelief, verge of tears…)

Pissed off despair would be an accurate description of my emotional state.  He had seen it several times.

His job was to talk me back onto solid ground…

Wade patiently listened for a bit and then said something like;

“You’re not just doing this for today. You know that.

Your work will show up on the scale next week or the week after if you keep at it.

And maybe the weight gain is just because you need to s*&%.

And *&%$ing breathe. Just breathe Bets.”

(This is how Wade remembers the conversations as well. 🙂 )

I have the benefit of some distance, perspective and without a DOUBT, I have a certain amount of selective memory about this whole lifestyle journey I have been on.

I know that.

When I think about WHY I hung in when things got crappy (pun intended) it was largely because I had some strategies that I used to get through the rough and trying times.

I was FOCUSED on reversing type 2 diabetes.  No doubt.  That was the driving force. But sometimes you just need something smaller, something you can get your hands and mind around when you are overwhelmed with chasing down a REALLY big goal…

These strategies work most (but not all!) of the time to keep me focused and motivated on some level. I think they are worth suggesting JUST in case one of them happens to work for someone else…

1. Incentive/trade-offs. What would you do with that handful of cash that you did NOT spend on fast food?  Buy a new jacket, running shoes, go somewhere fun?! Knowing I was trading off McDonalds for Maui really worked for me…

2. Goals.  Once I signed up for my first race/event I was not going to waste the money by not being ready. Signing up for a race/event gives me something aspirational and fun to focus on. Then taking the additional step of telling some friends or the entire world of Facebook (depending on your bravery) ups the accountability factor.

3. Phone a friend.  A friend who has permission to be honest with you, who knows about your journey within the context of your life.  NOT to (just) whine and moan and complain. But for voiced perspective on WHY you’re fighting this battle. The right friend can remind you that you might just need to poop to solve all of your problems. 🙂

4. Look (briefly) to your past. Take stock of where you ARE and where you have BEEN. We typically do NOT see the subtle, daily, positive changes. Sometimes it’s the gentle, visual nudge you need to just to look at an old picture.  I look at this:

248231_10150320004126258_5696017_nHannah took this picture in an iris garden that was in full bloom and we had such a GREAT DAY! But I can clearly see all of the weight in my face. That red hooded sweater was my favorite and was a size 26/28.  I know I weighed 250ish.  I know I was on insulin, sticking myself 3 times a day. I KNEW then that my life would have to change or diabetes was going to win.  Yet I was so overwhelmed with the idea of where to start losing 100+ pounds that I was doing nothing and HOPING this would all just go away and I would wake up magically thin and fit…

Posted next to this…

IMG_5873

And I can SEE the difference.

No guessing. No selective memory. 🙂

I know what I had to do to get to this point.

I’m having a great time, randomly ran into Hannah and Jeff in the middle of the forest while we were all enjoying an activity I never even knew existed 3 years ago.  Trail running?! Who knew?!

Before, during and after pictures remind me that even if I am not where I want to be, I have still made undeniable, positive progress.  Big or small.  Progress, is progress.

Incentives, goals, strategies, trusted friends.

I know that none of this is new. These are ALL old, time-tested tactics that work. But this is my gentle reminder to think about putting them to work for YOU. 🙂

So, please TELL me what incentives you have lined up, or the goals you have set or what a friend has done to keep you focused and positive.

I would really, truly LOVE to hear your stories!  Really!

#lifeisgood

Pictures.

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 12 Comments
IMG_6263
‘Before’ pictures.

I was working on a project with Spencer and needed to dig up a ‘before’ picture. Trying to find one that would tell the story of my lifestyle journey. (AKA the picture that shows me at my heaviest…)

Even ‘good’ pictures from when I was my heaviest were super hard to find.

Why?!

Well…

When you weigh 350+ pounds you do not willingly pose for the camera. It’s much easier to live without having to face iron-clad proof that you are or were ever really that big.

You learn to avoid the camera at all costs. If someone actually manages to get a picture of you and you have the ability, you GET RID OF IT.

You refuse to see the joy of the event or the happiness of your loved ones or the excitement in your life — all you can see is…

  • Your fat face.
  • Your fat belly.
  • You’re so obese that your arms can not physically lay at your side.
  • How soft, puffy and round everything looks.
  • How your clothes don’t fit. Fat rolls with fabric clinging to them. Seams busting open. Buttons being seriously tested.
  • How much of the picture frame you take up.

And let’s talk about how I had developed some impressive self-defense skills at avoiding pictures in the first place:

  1. Blink. Don’t have to do anything dramatic or try to run from the photographer. No one will use a picture if your eyes aren’t open.
  2. Become a photographer. Built-in reason to NOT be in pictures. I carried my camera everywhere.

So, you can see, I had trouble finding pictures from when I was at my heaviest.

Then I found some.

My mom had squirreled some away.

I literally sat on the floor cringing as I looked through them. Feeling some intense shame and embarassment.

I did not want to admit that I now had these pictures. I didn’t want anyone else to see them.

I had told Spencer I couldn’t find any pictures – which was totally true at first.

But then I found this hidden stack…

I considered telling him I still couldn’t find any.

But I can’t lie to Spencer.

AND in looking at the pictures and debating about hiding them or denying their existence…  I realized something. I realized that I needed to stop being so freaking mean to myself.

The fact is, I was morbidly obese for most of my adult life.

I JUST WAS.

I can hate that fact all I want, but it doesn’t change it.

Hiding or denying the fat me doesn’t mean she never existed.

The current me needs to quit trying to beat the crap out of the former me.  How’s that for a boxing match?

It was a hurtful but necessary realization process as I sat on the floor with pictures of the fat me in my hands…

When I could finally get past my own monster-sized and wounded ego and really look at the stack of pictures in my hands, I was shocked to see something I actually loved…

These pictures tell some of my greatest stories and experiences and they showcase some of the best people of my life.

I have amazing, crazy, beautiful, loving family and friends.  We have traveled and laughed and loved through great times and tough times and really bad hair styles. We have weathered storms and wrecked havoc.

The pictures simply show that I have been spoiled with a GREAT and full life.

My days of dodging the camera are officially over.

I have some stories left to create and a life to live. 🙂  NO matter what I look like.

My mom has been gone almost 5 years and in that squirreled away stack of pictures there were a lot of her smiling mug greeting me.

I will share with you the other ‘learning’ that occurred as I sat on the floor looking for a ‘before’ picture…

My mom never shied away from the camera.  Was she perfectly thin and thrilled with her body. No.

Did she love her life and everyone in it?  YES.

That’s all I see when I look at those pictures of her.

Her hands that held each of us when we desperately needed her and those same hands that were her best utensil in the kitchen. Her blue, kind eyes that were ALWAYS smiling. The smirk that meant she was about to dish out some fantastic pun.

I absolutely see her wheelchair and painfully crooked feet and legs. But I see them with the understanding and pride that they NEVER stopped her from living her life and loving her people.

I see the fierce and pure joy she had for being alive to be a part of her husband, daughters and grandkids lives. The hugs and laughs and jokes and purely happy times.  That’s WHAT I see.

That’s ALL I see.

Don’t shy away from the camera because you don’t like how you look today.

It’s short-sighted. And selfish.

Pictures help tell the story of your life. And your role in the life of others.

No matter how you look today — it IS part of your story. OWN IT.

Those who love you will look at snapshots in the future and see you with their eyes, but most importantly they will see you with their heart.

IMG_6264