I usually have an apple stashed in my office, car, purse… Within arm’s reach. 🙂 Photo credit to Dr. Greg Thompson; hands down one of the best teacher-educators on the planet. He retires the end of this year.
‘What ONE piece of advice do you have for chronic ‘dieters’ who really, really want to be successful this time around?’
LEARN what HUNGER really feels like.
I was brutally honest with myself when I started this journey 3+ years ago.  I knew that I had a really big problem, a really unhealthy relationship with food. And that I was going to be trying to stabilize blood sugars, get off of insulin, lose weight AND trying to find answers to some complicated food issues. ALL at the same time.
I like to keep things interesting.
I knew that perhaps my biggest hurdle was that I fundamentally did not understand hunger.
My body had NOT BEEN HUNGRY in years. Â I didn’t know the feeling.
I was so, so used to simply eating because it was mealtime, or I passed the frig, or it was in front of me, or because it was a special occasion, or…
And I’m not alone. Â In any conversation with folks who have lots to lose, at some point our conversation will come around to hunger. Â And the ways we ignore it, abuse it, refuse to allow it to happen…
I had to figure out what it meant to be hungry if I was EVER going to get a handle on overeating.
I was pretty sure that the only way to have long-term success was going to be tied to whether I could feel, understand and respond to hunger.
So I came up with a trick that would a) teach me to understand what hunger was and b) wouldn’t mess too badly with my blood sugar.
Apples.
Honeycrisp apples to be specific.
I put a BUCKET of apples in the fridge.
And I made a deal with myself…
Anytime I thought I was hungry and it really didn’t make sense for me to be hungry (had just eaten lunch, had eaten most of my calories for the day, etc…) I could eat an apple.
And only an apple.
IF I was indeed hungry enough to eat an apple…Â Then I was probably legitimately hungry.
IF I was NOT hungry enough to eat an apple… Then I was simply cruising for food out of HABIT or bored or emotions or…. I would eat nothing.
If I was NOT hungry enough to eat an apple — I was not hungry.
I used apples to train myself to at least STOP and recognize if what I was experiencing was TRUE hunger.
The worst day I had?  I ate 6 apples. 🙂
I had days where I just couldn’t tell if I was hungry or mentally craving food/comfort/company. Â So I ate apples. Â Burden/guilt free…Â I was trying to teach myself to learn something new, so I gave myself permission to eat as many apples as needed.
And BOY did I learn. And man alive did I eat a lot of apples those first few months. 🙂
Just this week I had to buy another big ol’ bag of apples and put it front-and-center in the fridge to REMIND me to listen to my hunger. And not just eat because I’m bored or tired or frustrated or lazy.
I don’t think we are ever done learning.Â
And as much as you do NOT want to hear this… I don’t know that we — if we have a food addiction/issues/overeat — are EVER off the hook. We have to stay vigilant about not letting the bad behaviors creep back in.Â
Which is why there is a big bag of apples in my fridge even after 3+ years on this journey.
I find it ironic and fun that while we give apples to teachers as gifts, in my case APPLES have BEEN my teachers. 🙂
Sunrise. Day at a time. (Photo credit; Jeff Sherman)
I was at an event for work and a woman who hadn’t seen me in a while walked up to me during the reception;
‘I’m just going to follow you aroundand watch what you eat. I need to lose some weight. Maybe I can learn from you.’
Confession?
Nothing makes me more self conscious than knowing someone is watching or judging what I eat.
I spent a lifetime trying to hide the true bulk of what I was really consuming. And I got REALLY good at making sure no single person had the whole picture.
I mean, c’mon… I KNOW I was WEARING my poor eating habits for the whole world to see. But I had pretty solidly convinced myself I was hiding things well enough to deflect major attention.
Insecurities run deep and old habits die hard. Even now, I will still find ways to skip social events that involve food if at all possible.
Throw into this particular awkward ‘party’ mix that I had just done a LONG run. What could that possibly have to do with food you wonder??!  I was eating anything and everything that was not nailed down. I had burned 1,000+ calories running that morning and I was freaking HUNGRY.
And someone wanted to watch me eat?! Â Egad…Â
So, I promised her that I would share what I used to eat compared to what I eat these days.  She promised to stop following me around. 🙂
So how do you get to be almost 400 pounds and a type 2 diabetic?
Here’s how: I would consume roughly 3,500-5,000 calories on any given day of fast food, carbs and highly processed foods. I was not exercising. This was how I spent the 1990’s and early 2000’s.
A fairly typical day looked like.
Breakfast: McDonalds Sausage biscuit, hash browns, large diet coke
Snack: Chips, large diet Dr. Pepper
Lunch: Qdoba nachos loaded, large diet coke
Snack: Candy or more chips, large diet Dr. Pepper
Pre-dinner snack: 2 McDonald’s cheeseburgers, large fries, large diet coke.
Dinner: Chicken enchilada casserole, rice and beans, chips and salsa
Snack: Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream
Unbelievable that someone could eat that poorly, that much? I WISH I was making this stuff up… But I really did eat all that stuff. Daily.
I have witnesses. Hell, I have PROOF.
My weight and a type 2 (T2) diabetes diagnosis are confirmation that this was pretty typical fare for me. FOR YEARS.
You don’t just suddenly wake up fat.
You actually have to work pretty hard to get there…
Starting in the early 2000’s, with my new T2 diagnosis, I spent about 8 years settling into a diabetic diet. Portions got smaller. I worked to glean out refined and overt sugar. I focused on a low-carb diet. I lost about 85 pounds during this time period and increased my walking over the years. It was NOT perfect, but it was a HUGE improvement.
July 2011 rolled around and I decided I was going to build a new and different lifestyle. I wanted to be healthy.
And then a WHOLE lot of additional changes have happened in the past 3+ years.
So, what does a day look like NOW?!
I consume about 1,500 – 2,100 calories a day; depending on what kind of exercise I’m doing. I try to work out 6 days a week. I eat a plant based diet.
A typical day pulled from the last month’s food journal:
I got a tattoo in San Francisco this past weekend.
I mean — why not?!?
We were in San Francisco for goodness sake! I had just finished a big bucket-list event. My friends Wendie and Jeff were getting them too.
That’s about all the motivation and reason most folks would need. Right?
Well, there is a little more to the story…
This little heart tattoo marks the spot where my type 2 (T2) diabetes diagnosis became VERY real for me.
The outside of my left foot.
I was wearing cute shoes to a conference in the early 2000’s. While totally adorable, the shoes gave me a nasty blister. Three months laterthat blister had NOT healed. In fact, it was infected and the wound site was growing.
I was referred to a wound-care specialist. Â At the same time I was being told that I was no longer pre-diabetic; I was FULL BLOWN T2 diabetic.
The wound-care folks were talking about treatment options being limited because of my uncontrolled T2 diabetes. High sugar in your blood doesn’t allow you to heal normally or well. They would try their best, but they would probably wind up having to cut off part of my foot to encourage healing...
WHAT?
Shitshitshitshitshit.
I was suddenly feeling very motivated to figure out how to become a well CONTROLLED T2. I did not want my life to be one set-back after another. One complication after another. Losing my feet one chunk at a time…
At one point in that first year of T2, my sister was going to get a tattoo. I had always wanted one. I was starting to get my blood sugars under control. I mentioned offhandedly to my doc at the time that I was going to get a tattoo with my sis. I remember his response…
‘That is the single stupidest thing I have ever heard. YOU have a team of people that barely saved your foot because you CAN NOT heal and you want to purposefully inflict a NEW open wound on your body? Find a new doctor.’
Um… OK…Â So maybe I don’t need a tattoo…
I buried the idea for more than a decade.
I saw my current doc this Fall. When she told me I was no longer a diabetic, I asked her if it would be OK for me to get a tattoo.  I told her I wanted a reminder of my T2 journey and the fact that I was NEVER, EVER slipping back to my old ways….
She tilted her head to the side and said…
‘I would get that tattoo on my foot if I were you.’
2014 North Face Endurance Challenge. Spencer (my coach) and I at the finish line. 50K in the books!
I just finished an ultra.
Running an ultra is something I have been thinking about for 3 years. My friend Josh Gum planted the idea in my head. ‘You do NOT have to run fast — you just have to run far.’ I am never going to be speedy. But stubbornly refusing to give up once I set my mind on something? Yeah that’s right up my alley. 🙂
I have been focused on training for this event for most of this year. I picked the North Face Endurance Challenge in San Francisco. Â It was a 50K, which is a 31 mile trail run. There were some pretty good hills and a TON of mud. It was perfect.
I had the BEST day!
This was an AMAZING day!
Yes… I am a little sore. And little hungry. And totally ready to do another one!
It feel so good to have been focused on a big goal for a long time, done all the hard work, put in the time to make it happen and to finally see it come to life right before your eyes.
I ran the entire race with my friend Jeff Sherman. Â (The one I talk into anything? Â Yeah… That guy!) Â BOTH of us — this was our first ultra.
Jeff and I at mile 6.2 Jeff’s first ever 10K DURING the 50K. Yup. He’d never done a 10K – and were just starting a 50K.
My coach Spencer was there at the finish line.
Spencer helped me get here.
This is NO small feat. We have been working together for the past 18 months. He has seen the good, the bad, the ugly, the temper tantrums, the success and the progress. He has built me into a runner. Â And I got to test all of our hard work on the hills north of San Francisco this weekend.
It was FANTASTIC!
And to top it all off? I was surrounded by a group of people who have been part of this dream and adventure from the start. We were all together.
I finally GOT to run an ultra.
Now I have to figure out what I GET to do next… 🙂
We talked about the mental aspects of obesity and  exercise…
What about the PHYSICAL side of this battle?
I’m 5’7″ and weighed 392 pounds at my heaviest.
Does not take much imagination to fathom that I was physically not able to move well because of my size.
Physical aspects of being obese and active come up in conversations with people who know me and are facing triple-digit weight loss.
Complete strangers who hear about my journey have engaged me in blunt, instantly-intimate, humbling conversations as well. ‘I sweat more than any human on the planet and you wouldn’t believe the problems it causes…’  (I would) or ‘I can’t put on shoes that tie because I can’t reach my feet”. I feel like I have heard just about everything.
Understanding is all most people really want.
Maybe a solution or two.
With a dash of hope.
I will share with you the top 5 physical challenges I faced along with notes on how I tackled some of these barriers. I hope that by sharing this level of blunt detail, I might remove some obstacles or excuses for folks.
Being morbidly obese is not for the WEAK
1. Big boobs. They get in the way when I eat and sit still. Put them in motion and you are just asking for trouble. Do they make sports bras in my size?
Sports bras come in ALL sizes. Some are great and some are useless. You get what you pay for. I bought cheap sports bras in the beginning of my lifestyle change because I KNEW I would be losing weight and that they wouldn’t fit for very long.
BIG mistake. Chafing, sore back, one bra even tried to strangle me after freeing the girls MID-CLASS. Disaster. After that little episode; I bought a GREAT sports bra. 🙂
They make bonafide, athletic-quality sports bras with serious motion control and back support for G cup and larger. Invest. You won’t regret it. It will make you feel braver. 🙂
2. I carry the bulk of my weight in my torso. I have a huge belly. Walking or physical activity with any intensity? Â This ‘body part’ has its on inertia.
Compression clothing is your new best friend if you have a large belly or loose skin on your torso. Compression gear is supposed to be TIGHT – like swearing, sweating and struggling just to get into it. It’s worn UNDER your workout clothes and holds things in check and limits motion.
I wore tank top style compression with the strongest panels being over my belly. Bonus? Compression tanks/shirts also serve as back up for the sports bra. Compression shorts for men and women work from the bottom up. Pun intended. 🙂 Â
3. I can’t get up and off of the ground without some serious effort and hopefully a hand rail. I barely fit hip-to-hip on the largest treadmill. Some machines or equipment have weight limits; I exceed them.
(Get your doctors permission. MAKE sure they know you are getting started with a physical activity routine and see what advice they have for you.)
Seriously… Check out weight limits on yoga balls if you doubt me. Looking for the phrase ‘burst resistant’ does NOT build confidence.
Do NOT pick the hardest thing to get started.  If getting up and off the ground is difficult right now – pick an activity that doesn’t require that. Don’t set yourself up for failure or injury.Â
START where you are, not where you WISH you were.
My doctor told me to get started by walking, which I did. Walking was relatively gentle, could be done anywhere and was not as threatening as testing the true weight limit on a machine by accident. Her other suggestions were swimming (bathing suit. HELL NO!) or using a treadmill.
I slowly added in things that required me to move differently or stretch my boundaries a bit.
4. I have not seen my toes in years. My belly is in the way and I can’t do a sit up. I have NO stamina. I can only do 10 minutes of activity, not a full 45 minute class.
You HAVEÂ to start somewhere.
Pick something that you will enjoy and that will make you sweat WITHOUT injury. You can add complexity, intensity once you get moving and gain confidence. Â
I couldn’t do sit-ups, had NO stamina, couldn’t do push-ups, couldn’t run, couldn’t bend, just getting to the gym was a freaking full-out cardio workout….
Trying exercises when you can’t fully do them felt stupid and useless. Â
BUT it is not. You have to get started. Do one. The next time do two. SERIOUSLY. Start THAT small. So what if anyone else is doing 10 minutes or 50 reps? Â Even they had to start somewhere. You just weren’t there at THEIR beginning.
Start where you are and work from there. Â
NOÂ COMPARISONS.
(Except against your old self.)
Remember that you will SEE progress at some point if you stick with it. And progress — progress is magic!
DO NOT expect INSTANT.
But keep your eyes peeled for the slightest hint of progress. And celebrate the hell out of it!!!
5. Do they even make workout clothes in larger sizes? Â And does it have to be form-fitting spandex..? Hell.
They do make sizes 5X and larger. Some of them are really cute while being functional. Cute is NOT important in a sports bra. But cute clothes? I’m a fan of cute clothes. Â (With polka dots.) Â
Get in some comfortable clothes that let you move about freely and let you sweat.
And yes, they use a lot of Spandex.
No, it’s not to be mean. It’s so you can move.
You want your clothes to fit to your body and NOT be in the way. Â I was super guilty of wearing anything that resembled a tent to cover my bulk. Â Not sure who I thought I was fooling. Large, loose fitting clothes will actually get in your way. Â Trust me.
This is about clothing your body in the right ‘tools’ so you can get moving.Â
Those were my top 5 challenges and pretty much in the order of what I feared AND then had to learn about.
Not everyone has the same challenges, but I know from multiple conversations that these are fairly common concerns.
These issues AND the solutions are largely not talked about in the circles of obese active folks because it is just freaking embarrassing stuff to have to talk about.
This post was taunting me for weeks. And honestly, I’m still kind of cringing at seeing it all written out…
BUT if sharing these details can help someone, anyone, get past their embarrassment AND into the ‘gym’… Then I will keep sharing.
‘You don’t have to be great to start, but you have to start to be great.’ — Zig Ziglar
Running with my dear friends Wendie and Hannah at night, with headlamps! Fun!
Disneyland. Circa 2004. I was close to 350 pounds. Exhausted form all the standing and walking.
I was convinced I was too fat to exercise.Â
When I talk with people facing mega-weight loss this topic always emerges as one of their core frustrations, embarrassments and concerns. It was one of my core concerns, for more than a decade.
I will tackle the physical barriers in another blog. Â But, in my opinion, the MENTAL hurdles are just as fearsome.
So how do you get your mind to quiet down enough so that you can get your butt to the gym to get started??!
It seems to be a radically different tipping point for everyone.Â
My tipping point?!  When I finally understood that food alone was not going to get me where I was trying to go. If I was going to control T2 diabetes, exercise had to be added.
I had to get moving.
From the point where I knew I HAD to add exercise to where IÂ set foot in the gym? Â Six months. I spent six months battling the demons in my head. (List below.)
When you are obese and totally out of shape and you finally take the big, brave step to join the world of the physically active you feel VULNERABLE beyond belief.
I felt ragged and mentally exhausted before I even set foot in the ‘gym’.
(Gym?! I use the word generically to mean any place where you are going to make an effort and will BE SEEN. Walking down your street, classes at a community center, hitting your city pool.)
So what kind of thoughts were zinging around in my head for 10+ years? Here are my “I am too fat to be seen trying to exercise” thoughts:
Fat people don’t belong in the world of fit and thin people. We are not welcome and do not belong.
I am desperately afraid someone is going to mock me, laugh at me or be mean.
It will be UGLY. I am not a pretty crier. I am not a pretty ‘sweat’er.
I am beyond help. Â I don’t know where to start. Â Why bother at this point?
Thin people are disgusted by fat people. I do NOT want to see the look of pity or disgust when I wind up next to them on a treadmill at the gym.
I will have to shower after working out. Which means I have to be naked. The likelihood of having the locker room all to myself is about ZERO. Which means… Kill me now.
Did I mention I was afraid people were going to laugh at me?
Having just shared my fears… I must confess that one of my fears did play out early in my gym-going career.
Humiliating story, but I share it because the experience wound up providing me with clarity and motivation.
I had been going to the gym about a month. I was probably 325+ pounds. There were two guys on the mats near me. One guy stage-whispered to his friend; “Dude, why is she even trying? It’s not like it’s going to make a difference.”
I froze. I was the only other person around. They were talking about me. I was wounded. Mortified. Humiliated. I tried hard NOT to cry… Failed. I laid on the mats and cried once they walked away. It stung deeply for at least a week.
I had been worried people were thinking that EXACT thing about me. Someone had just proven me right.
But eventually it made me mad.
It ultimately made me more determined.
Why?! Â When I stopped to really think about it, I had already seen progress in the four short weeks I had been going to the gym. Almost every other person had been nice to me. My blood sugars were better than they had ever been. My pants were fitting looser. I could walk more laps on the track.
I belonged there as much as he did.
As much as anyone did.
I may have been fat, but he was a jackass.
I’m now healthy, but I bet he’s still a mean jerk.
The rest of my experiences with going to the gym? Â Routine.
Don’t get me wrong; The work was (still is!) hard. LOTS of sweat. Learning was scary. I had some physical challenges. I still felt totally intimidated. But really… The fears I kept rattling around in my head; were all just that. In my head.
No one cared that I was there. Â Really.
No one laughed, mocked or made fun of me. OK. One guy, one incident. The rest of the time?People kindly asked me if I needed help if I stood staring at a machine.
No one cared that I was fat and in ‘their space’. Seriously NO ONE was even looking at me or anyone else for that matter.
Do you want to know what happened the very FIRST time I went to the gym?
I walked into the locker room with my gym bag, looking like I was either going to cry or bolt. I am sure it was both. A woman saw my distress, waved at me and said ‘Hey – do you need help finding your locker? I did when I started here…”
She assumed I belonged. She offered to help and was friendly.  Not a hint of judgement. She instantly smashed some of my long held fears to smithereens.
It cost her nothing to be kind. I valued it deeply.
Have I had bad moments, met mean people, had pointed comments made to me? YES. Â But the life-truth is that there are mean, ignorant people in the world, well beyond the walls of a gym. Are you going to let them stop you?!
Have I felt dumb and ill-equipped and out of my league? I have fallen off of a stationary bike.  Twice. 🙂  This is where having a sense of humor and being able to laugh at yourself is KEY.
Have I wanted to quit? More times than I can count. BUT I was determined to win the war against T2 diabetes. I made friends who held me accountable and expected me to show up. Â FRIENDS and staying focused on your goal are key in the ‘not quitting’ process.
I thought I was too fat to exercise, but I started anyway.
(What was your tipping point? Â I would love to hear your success story!)
Hannah and I at the gym. Yes, this breaks some rules of civility to take selfies in the gym. It TOTALLY breaks the rules Spencer (running coach) has for us. We’re rebels. 🙂
Size 28 pants. They don’t fit anymore. And I plan to keep it that way. 🙂
“How do you get through the holidays and not gain weight?”
I have been asked this question more than a dozen times this past week alone.
The Thanksgiving Holiday is the official start of an entire eating season. 🙂Â
This is my fourth Thanksgiving (roughly 1,200+ days) with my new eating habits. So what is my strategy for staying active and eating healthy during our food-obssessed Holiday season?
I create and stick to a plan.Â
My plan for this Holiday season is not very sexy/cool/fun. It’s simple and straight forward. If you have ever gone on a diet of any kind, you’ve heard most of the tips I now rely on.
The specific strategies aren’t the point. The point is that I have a plan.  And I follow the plan to the best of my ability.
So, what is my plan for Thanksgiving?
Activity. I am going for a run. I will work up a sweat. No, I am NOT exercising SO I can eat more. I am exercising to be healthy and live a balanced life. Exercise is a habit and a choice. I don’t skip it just because it’s a Holiday.
I wear snug, bordering on uncomfortably tight clothing to the meal. NOT gonna feel like over-eating if my pants are already cutting me in half.
I take along foods I know I want to eat, and that fit with my food lifestyle.
Good conversations, games, distractions. It should never be all about food.
I keep a flavored/favorite water on hand and TANK ON IT.
Eat a normal breakfast.
Load my plate with veggies and salad and fill up on that FIRST.
This is NOT the only meal of the day. NOT the only meal of the year. It’s not like I couldn’t make/get ANY of this stuff, ANY time. Don’t let perceived scarcity/specialness lure me into eating more than I intended.
Fruit for dessert.
When I am done eating, but I am tempted to graze? I chew sugar free cinnamon gum. Kills the taste buds. (I chew a LOT of cinnamon gum.)
I told you; nothing earth-shattering in my plan. Probably all things you have heard before.
HAVING a plan and sticking to it is really the point. (And having a pack of SF cinnamon gum. Don’t forget the gum.)
Sums up the feeling I had on the first day of NO SHOTS. 🙂
‘How did you reverse T2 Diabetes?’
July 2011 marked the start of a MAJOR life change to reverse type 2 diabetes.
I weighed 285. I was taking 3 shots a day, 7 oral meds. Â I was considered well-controlled in the world of T2 diabetics.
This part of the story is hard to write simply because it was so wild.
I had a basic goal, but no real, detailed plan. I didn’t care. I was learning as I moved forward. If I waited for a concrete plan, for the moment I was totally comfortable with all of the details, I never would have started.
To the casual observer, my journey had to have looked like a total shit show.
But it was MY shit show.
The next 3+ years would be a frantic, chaotic, successful, mess.
I was finally ready to do the work needed to make changes. A much different feeling than the forced enthusiasm and hope that were present when I usually started a new diet.
This was different.
Entirely different. This was soul-deep and relentless and essential. This time I was not driven by fear or despair or guilt.
My desire to LIVE was finally bigger than my fears.
My only goal was to reverse T2 diabetes.
Focused on that thought alone, I picked ideas that provoked and energized me:
Reverse T2 diabetes. Get RID of it.
Choice between managing blood sugar or losing weight? Blood sugar. Every time.
I was not doing this to please anyone. This was about saving my own life.
No excuses. None. I was going to OWN my journey.
No whining.
Give 100% effort.
Stay open-minded about solutions.
Think long-term lifestyle shift. New habits, not quick fixes.
Then I spent 3+ years learning all I could about food, exercise and myself.
I eventually got down to a handful of ideas that continue to work;
Let true belly-hunger be my guide.
Keep working to have a peaceful relationship with and around food.
Exercise will be a habit and a priority in my life.
Stay focused on the healthiest, smartest food choices for my needs and goals.
I have a small handful of people in my life to whom I remain accountable. They have unconditional permission to remind me to get back on track.
Food is fuel. Not a reward.
Say no to social situations where food will be an issue for me.
‘You have come too far to take orders from a cookie.’
I needed to share this background with you. This was the foundation that had to be built if I was going to be successful in reversing T2. I absolutely HAD to cement lifestyle changes for this to work long-term.
“HOW did I reverse T2?”
I talked to my doc and told her my plan; I was going to get off insulin and reverse T2 by eating less and moving more.
She sent me away for 3 months to lose weight, learn how to move more. I KNOW full well she was genuinely skeptical that I would stick with it. I never had before.
I worked hard and then showed her proof of my commitment.
I went back to see her with improved numbers, weighing less, signed up for a 10K with my friend Hannah. I showed her my food journals.
I wasn’t screwing around. I wanted off insulin. She could help me or I would figure it out myself. I told her that, in those exact words. Then I asked her what the plan was.
 ‘OK. You really are serious. Here’s our plan…”
Getting off of all meds would take close to 2 years.
We decreased insulin in small increments weekly over many months. Â It was NOT a fast process. I would decrease the daily bolus then we would watch my daily fasting numbers for 10 days or so. IF my numbers stayed steady I could decrease the bolus again… Repeat process.
There were periods of 25+ days where I could not decrease the dosage. I wasn’t losing weight, my diet wasn’t tight enough, Â I had been sick or maybe I wasn’t exercising consistently. I would figure out the issue, work to get it corrected and we would start the process of decreasing dosages again.
At one point it finally dawned on me that I was trading one drug (Lantus, Metformin, Byetta) for another (food and exercise).
STAYING off diabetes meds would rely TOTALLY on ME maintaining serious lifestyle changes.
At the same time that I was eating better and working my way off of insulin, I started MOVING more. I was a hot, sweaty, mess. All the time. I didn’t care what I looked like working out, or what anyone thought of me. I was starting to see the scale and my glucose readings drop. Seeing results strengthened my resolve and dedication.
I started learning to run. I bought a bike. I met the Gums.  I started lifting weights. I met Spencer, my running coach. I was buying REAL running shoes and then actually running in them. 🙂
And then the days I had been working for finally began to arrive…
February 2012 I was OFF insulin.
May 2013 I was off of all meds.
This past October my Doc said the most incredible words…
You are no longer diabetic.Â
She gave me a hug. Told me I could put my glucose testing kit in a drawer. I weighed 164 and BMI was ‘normal’.
My HgbA1c was the lowest it had ever been. We were both proudest of that single number; it was ALL because of diet and exercise. Â It reflected my lifestyle change. I had chased a low HgbA1c for over a decade and FINALLY caught it.
I left her office and went out to my car.
Bawled for about 10 minutes.
The odds had been against me. BIG time. I had purposely ignored that fact for several years. Â It was finally hitting me.
But the BEST feeling of all??? Â Knowing I had developed solid habits that I could use to keep healthy and active for the rest of my life.
I got home. Hugged and chatted with my dad. Ate a healthy dinner. Got up early the next morning to go for a run with Hannah and Spencer.
Story continued…
(You thought this was THE END?  Hell no! I am JUST getting started.)
Diabetes and I settled into an early, uneasy truce.
The truce would last for about 10 years.
Anger, fear, grief, frustration, confusion, embarrassment, panic. LOTS of emotions. All battling it out daily. The best words I have for the first 6 – 12 months of being a diabetic were confused and intense. A lot to learn. A lot to change. All happening at once. I was not a fun person to be around for that first year.
The meds started working pretty quickly and were clearing my brain of the cloudiness you get with high and sustained glucose levels.
I slowly started to see and understand what had happened. Later I would tell people that I started to see and understand what I HAD LET happen… It sounded harsh. But it’s the truth.
I had NOT stopped the disease when I had the chance.
Now I would have to manage it.
I couldn’t re-write history. But I could sure as hell write a new ending. I held the pen(needle). Sorry. Diabetic pun. 🙂
I eventually accepted the idea that I had a couple of choices to make.
I could survive OR thrive.
I could learn about the disease and how to manage it OR stay ignorant and let the doctors tell me what to do.
I could accept that this disease owned me OR I could fight for my life.
Thrive, learn and fight.
 (These three words still mean the world to me.)
I immediately made diet adjustments. I hated the changes. But I was too scared NOT to change. EVERY single bite of food had to be considered. It was a whole new level of mental fatigue, laced liberally with fear.
About 4-6 weeks in, with the help of meds, I started to feel better. Less sleepy. Less ravenously hungry. Â More clear-brained. I started to see the results of my work at eating ‘better’ show up in my daily glucose tests. Motivation to try to get those glucose numbers to drop was an incentive that worked well for me. I used it.
I quickly learned that life as a T2 diabetic, if you are actively trying to manage the disease, takes serious and relentless work.
So what exactly did my life as a T2 diabetic look like?
I had to learn to count carbohydrates. And not eat too many over the course of the day. Carbs were my favorite. This was seriously unpleasant work for a very long time. LOTS of temper tantrums on this nasty little learning curve.
Sugar free is NOT carb free. BONUS? Artificial sweeteners used in sugar free food products can cause side effects.  ‘Excessive consumption may cause laxative effect.’  Save yourself. Just trust me on this one.
I had to find sugar in my diet and GET RID OF IT! Overt and hidden. I STILL play this game.
I had to learn to stick my finger each morning for a glucose reading. And try not to bleed all over my clothes or leave the counter looking like a crime scene.
I had to manage medicines, needles and Sharps containers. I was taking 3 shots a day and 7 oral meds.
I had to learn to read and understand nutrition labels. And learn that SERVING sizes matter.
I had to learn to give myself shots. Cussing; fluent and abundant and creative. Lots of bruises and bent needles as I tried to figure out how to stab myself in the stomach.
I started to learn about being physically active. I started SMALL. Parking my car further away. Taking stairs. Drinking more water so I had to get up from my desk to pee more often.
I had to learn how to manage T2 when I was sick. Rampaging and nonsensical numbers, dehydration, questionable judgement from a foggy brain, drug adjustments.
I had to learn to manage side effects from meds. When the warning label says ‘may cause severe gastric distress’, it will. You do not want witnesses. It will be an issue every single day.
I also began to slowly, cautiously acknowledge my messed-up relationship with food.
I had to learn to count calories and track food. All of the calories. All of the food.
No hiding or lying or cheating or excuses.
This was the hardest thing to learn.
I mean, I could lie to myself all I wanted, make any excuse I wanted, but my blood work would eventually rat me out and reveal whether I was doing the work that was necessary. I was eating a LOT of food, for the wrong reasons, and all of the wrong kinds of food. Wrong for diabetes AND wrong for life.
Being honest about what I was eating, why I was eating was humbling, humiliating and brutal.
SO much learning and changing and fighting. And it never really let up.  And just to keep things entertaining and interesting – there were plenty of failures, tears, scares. I hit stumbling blocks, bad attitudes and plateaus.  I had bad numbers and crappy weeks and major set backs. Details and stories for later days.
But giving up was NOT an option even on the worst of days. Even a small amount of progress was still progress and not a step backwards. I had to keep reminding myself of that fact.
Thrive, Learn and Fight. Remember those words? I had promised myself that I was going to live by those words.
I forged a solid coexistence with Diabetes. We got along quite well for about a decade. Â I worked to get my numbers stable. I worked to lose weight. I was working on building a better relationship with food. My doctor was happy that I was holding my own against T2. It was good enough for a long time.
And then one day…
One day ‘good enough’ was no longer good enough. Comfortable and coexisting was no longer working.
I was starting to feel restless and eager and brave…Â Odd combination, I know. But I finally recognized that what was emerging was the feeling of being DONE.
DONE.
I was DONE with diabetes. Done with shots. Done with being fat. Done with ACCEPTING that this was going to be the ‘story’ of my life.  I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t depressed. It was just that good enough was NOT enough anymore. Never would be again.
My trusty sidekick for many, many years. Glucose monitoring kit.
My diabetes story has 3 distinct parts.
I was pre-diabetic.
I was full-blown T2 diabetic.
I reversed it.
Let’s start at the beginning.
I first heard the words pre-diabetic as early as 1996. I was 28. I remember thinking ‘pre’ meant I had time.
I really wish I could have understood what was coming…
The doctors didn’t seem concerned. Why should I worry about it? They said ‘This means you could get diabetes at some point. Eat better and lose some weight. We’ll keep an eye on things.”
Knowing what I know now… I wish they would have said ‘You have ONE LAST CHANCE to avoid a devastating disease. Listen up! This is in YOUR hands. You are running out of time to STOP this.”
As much as I would love to be able to blame anyone but myself, I can’t blame the doctors. I was NOT ready to listen.
I was playing ostrich.
If I buried my head in the sand, maybe this would just ALL GO AWAY…
Diabetes would mean I had to change what/when/how I ate. Food was an ISSUE for me. This was going to get messy and scary and NOT fun. Life was going to suck. So… I was only pre-diabetic. I could put off dealing with it. Right?! They had said ‘could’ get diabetes. Maybe I wouldn’t get it at all…
I was flirting with a deadly disease and my messed up relationship with food had me in a complete choke-hold. I was not paralyzed by the facts…
I was totally refusing to accept them.
In early 2000’s I saw my gynecologist. She was reviewing my lab reports and asked me what medicines I was taking for diabetes. I said none, ‘I’m only pre-diabetic’. She said:
‘NO.
You are full blown type 2 diabetic.
There’s no more of this ‘pre’ crap.
You are actually VERY sick.’
She made sure I had an appointment with a diabetes doc the very next day.
Being an ostrich had NOT worked.
At all. Not for even a moment.Â
I was not Type 1 (T1). Â T1 is an autoimmune disease. Beta cells in the pancreas do NOT work. Beta cells produce insulin. T1’s have to take insulin or die. Period.
I was Type 2 (T2). T2 is largely a lifestyle disease. I have a working pancreas. I produce insulin, but my body couldn’t use it very well; I was also called insulin resistant. There are genetic factors to consider, but most of us T2s have done it to ourselves. Inactivity, carrying too much weight (specifically belly fat) and not making good food choices.
How did they figure out I was diabetic? A blood test called the Hemoglobin A1c (HgbA1c) and a finger stick. The HgbA1c measures how well you manage your blood glucose over a 3-month period.The finger stick tests your fasting blood sugar and is essentially a real-time reading.
BOTH my fasting and my HgbA1c were high. Really high.
How high!??
My HgbA1c should have been somewhere in the 4.8 – 7.0 range. It was 11.2. ‘Dangerous’.
My fasting numbers should have been between 80-120. Â It was 340. “Whoa. That can’t be right. We’ll check it again.” Â 342.
I had symptoms, serious symptoms that I was ignoring. Well, ignoring AND I thought it was just because I was fat. Â I didn’t realize the problems were tied to diabetes. Over the years I had adapted and accepted my reduced quality of life as just part of being obese.
So what were my symptoms?
Sores would not heal. A blister on my foot wouldn’t heal for over 6 months, so I was referred to a wound care specialist. Â He talked about cutting off my toes and portions of my foot as a means of treating the infection. THAT kind of not healing.
I could NOT sleep enough. I was BARELY getting through the day. Not just sleepy; groggy and foggy all the time. Would sleep for 10 – 12 Â hours a day. Fell asleep in meetings, while driving my car and on phone calls. I would sleep 15 – 18 hours a day on weekends.
I could not get enough to eat. I could eat until I was physically over-full, stuffed and yet still feel hungry. All at the same time. T2 makes it so that your body just can’t use ‘fuel’ efficiently. ‘It was like putting diesel in a gas engine.’ I could consume 5,000 calories a day and be hungry. Sugar. I wanted sugar.
Anyone watching from the outside knew something was going wrong for at least 3 years.
Again, I figured these symptoms were the price you paid for being obese.
I was not ready to fight. I did not want to make changes. As crappy as things were, it was something I had grown to understand and be comfortable with. Sad and implausible for some to believe, I’m sure. I was in bad physical shape and yet willing to stay there because the thought of what it would take to make things different was utterly overwhelming.
You accept and allow what you think you are worth.
Being diagnosed as a full blown T2 diabetic threw everything I knew and loved out the nearest window. Just as I feared it would.
I heard the diagnosis and spent about 4 months grieving. Deeply. Â I was put on meds for depression. I totally cut myself off from friends and the outside world. I threw an epic pity party.
Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Â I was moving through the stages of grief in my own order. I had been in deep denial. I had bargained to no avail. Â I was depressed. Â Acceptance would take a while to find…
Then I finally started to get angry.
I was angry at myself. At the situation. At what I had allowed to happen.
I actually do some of my best work when I am angry. Always have. Â I get focused and productive and persistent. Anger was very much the companion I needed by my side for a while.
I knew I HAD to make changes. I had to start to face my food issues. I had to make a serious effort to try to gain control of this disease while I still had my toes…
all bets are off... 