Healthy lifestyle

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…

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Iced black coffee. 🙂 My favorite treat!

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

Trigger point

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 5 Comments
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…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…  🙂

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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

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‘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

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

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 8 Comments
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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
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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…

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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
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‘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.

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(The crap in the middle.)

~ betsyhartley392 ~ Leave a comment
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Wendie, Bets. June 2014, Timothy Lake/Mt. Hood 50 Miler.  We were crewing for Josh as he ran 50 miles. 🙂

My friend Wendie and I were having coffee last week. Chattering excitedly about the EPIC plans all of our friends have for 2015.

And getting pedicures. 🙂

I asked her for some honest feedback on this whole adventure of blogging.

‘You have been writing about the fun stuff, the happiness, the A-Z success, the highlights.

You really need to talk about the ugly, hard stuff, the sad stuff, the things that make people quit and give up.

People need to know they are not alone.

They need to know about the crap in the middle.’

She said I should consider talk about the stuff NO ONE WANTS to really talk about…  Not even just the embarrassing stuff, which usually makes for at least a great story or laugh at some point.

She said to tackle the DAILY GRIND. The things that easily erode away confidence. Or stop you in your tracks if you have to battle it too many times. The things that fatigue you or plant nagging self-doubt.

Steep learning curves when all you want is SOMETHING to be familiar and NOT so damned hard…

You with me?

The stuff that sucks.

This is the stuff that I battled intently, intensely and consistently this time around.

This is also the exact listing of where I was derailed in EVERY past attempt I made on a ‘diet’ or exercise regime.

This is the crap that was in the middle of my journey…

  1. I was NOT going to talk about my fat rolls and bulk and weight and the problems they were causing when I tried to exercise, with anyone. Chafing, motion control, infections, back strains. I suffered in embarrassed and humiliated silence for a VERY long time. Shame. Deep shame.
  2. Life felt unfair. Going to bed hungry, feeling overwhelmed and alone. Usually a little pissed off that ‘normal people’ could eat whatever they wanted. Meanwhile I was a freaking air fern that could gain weight by SMELLING cookies baking.
  3. Type 2 Diabetes. TRYING to get off of insulin. Having to add more back in. Endless finger sticks. Lows that made me an unbearable, cranky, bratty turd. Trying to eat the right thing at the right time and not be over calories for the day.
  4. Being so sore from exercising that I literally thought something was broken or ruined.
  5. Going to social events and choosing NOT to eat what everyone else was eating. And then trying HARD not to look awkward or sad or out of sorts.
  6. Chronic food pushers/saboteurs.
  7. Not seeing results. Restricting calories and the scale not moving for days and weeks. Walking further and not finding it any easier. Doing the same things as my friends and they were having success. Me…? Not at all…
  8. Wanting to quit. Feeling overwhelmed. Knowing there was NO END IN SIGHT. Ever. These habits had to be ‘for life’.
  9. Food was spot on. Measured and counted everything. Exercised every single day. Drank water. Good blood sugars.  I did everything I was supposed to be doing.  Scale said I was UP.  *Insert scream of rage/despair here*.
  10. Scale dictating my mood and my feelings of success. I would become a thundercloud of despair because I was up half or a full pound on any given day.
  11. Revert to comfortable habits when the rest of life was out of control. Cheat on my OWN rules. And then face frustration or panic because I KNEW this was not behavior that would lead me anywhere but BACKWARD…

I know I am NOT alone in my listing  of ‘sucky’ things…  I’ve talked to too many people.

Please… Tell me what’s missing from my list that is on your list?  What is the crap in the middle of your journey?

And once we know what were facing and struggling against…  How do we fight back and WIN?

I have to be honest and admit that I still struggle with most of these on some level. I am not an expert. BUT, I am an extrovert, with some sass and a few personal experiences that I am not too embarrassed to share.  So I will share. 🙂

I promised Wendie that we would get conversations started about battling the crap in the middle.

Stay tuned.

Everyday is a new day. You have to start over every single day. No matter how effing hard it is, you fight through it and you start fresh the next day.    — Wendie

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Out kicking it on a run… Don’t remember when or where. But we were moving. And sweating And smiling. Who cares about the details? 🙂

Telephone poles.

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 4 Comments
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Running my first 5K in 2013.

  ‘HOW did you learn how to run?’

This past week a woman I have met a few times confronted me for details.

She wants to run a Disney Half Marathon and has never run before. She LOVES Disney and is using that for motivation to get started on some lifestyle changes.

She asked me how to get started running.

I said the generic, supportive things like ‘take the training slow’, ‘get good shoes’, ‘look on-line for one of the Disney training plans’ and ‘you can do this!’

She listened and then said…

‘Yes… Betsy. I GET that it will take a while to learn to run any distance, and that I can’t give up… BUT HOW DID YOU ACTUALLY START RUNNING?’  (She was speaking in all caps at this point. 🙂 )

I had to really think back to what it was like when I took those first awkward, shuffling steps…

It started with driveways and telephone poles. 

I had been walking with focus and intent for several months and was working on walking faster and longer distances. I’d walked several 10K’s at that point.

I live in the farm country. From our farm to the stop sign is 2.43 miles round trip.  Five houses on the road, one annoying dog, some railroad tracks.  The roads are usually empty.

When I finally decided I wanted to learn how to run, I picked a short distance and gave it a shot. I planned to jog between two telephone poles on our road.

I made it across the width of our neighbors driveway.

That’s it.

Those telephone poles suddenly seemed MILES and miles apart.

I jogged the driveway and then I walked to the stop sign. And when I got back to our neighbors driveway I forced myself to jog back across.

The next few days and weeks I forced myself to add a few running steps each day.

By the next month I was struggling, but I was jogging between those freaking telephone poles.

I had a huge grin on my face.

I was not discouraged. And that’s probably the question I get asked the most when I tell this story.  “Man, you must have been so discouraged to have such slow progress…’

That question really offended me at first.

I had moments of wondering what in the hell I was doing. For sure. No doubt.

Do NOT forget that I wanted, was working very hard to create, a whole new lifestyle. And I was being chased by diabetes. I was in a very real race for MY LIFE.  You could say I was motivated.

The fact that it took me a month to hit my initial goal of jogging between telephone poles?  I saw it as victory that I didn’t give up, NOT discouraged with the time it took to get to that goal.

I just wanted to jog between those two stupid telephone poles and be able to say I did it. And I eventually nailed my goal. 🙂

But then I didn’t stop with the telephone poles. I kept looking for new landmarks.

I remember the first time I ran all the way to the stop sign.

And then the time I ran to the stop sign and BACK.

I just kept picking landmarks and made a game out of pushing myself to get there as fast and best I could.

Those first physical steps were really, truly that small.

That is how I started running. 🙂

And for the record? I still play the landmark game when I’m pushing to something new, or I am tired or struggling…  Just get to that bend in the road, that tree, that rock in the road, just one more step… 

It works every time. 🙂

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Starting the 13.1 of the Pacific Crest Endurance Duathlon June 2014. Getting love and encouragement from my friend Wendie as I head out. 🙂

Fake belly button.

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 5 Comments
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I have 10 pounds of loose skin along for this run.

‘Did you have loose skin after you lost weight?!’

When you weigh a lot (392 pounds) and lose a lot of weight (230 pounds), you wind up with excess skin.

In my case, it was almost all belly skin.

Skin is elastic, but NOT that elastic. Especially when it was stretched out for 20+ years.

Turns out that loose skin is actually a big problem and not just because of how it looks.

My belly flap of skin hung to the top of my thighs.

Loose skin develops its own inertia which means I had to become an expert in compression gear if I wanted to do anything other than stand upright or walk casually. 🙂  Tanks, shorts, girdles, ace bandages, Spanx. You name it.  It was a daily task to figure out how to stay active and keep the loose skin from hurting me.

I was developing arthritis in my spine from the skin pulling on my lower back.

I had chronic infections and abrasions on the loose skin of my belly.

I wore size 16 pants JUST to accommodate the extra skin. (Day after surgery I was in a size 12, even with 18 pounds of swelling, drains and wearing the surgical girdle.)

I tried every potion, cream, gizmo I could in hopes that the skin would magically shrink back.

FINALLY my sister drug me to a cosmetic surgeon. He gently told me NOTHING would make the skin retract.  The only cure was removal. The surgery was a tough one.

It was not covered by insurance even though I had documented back issues and chronic skin issues. (Insurance wound up covering part of it when the surgeon uncovered 3 significant abdominal hernias DURING surgery.)

I talked to my family and friends to make sure they were supportive. I saved every penny. Talked to other patients who had done the surgery.

Asked Spencer to help me get as fit as possible. I kept being told fitness was tied to good healing and a quicker recovery.

On 11/20/13 I had a procedure called a ‘Full Body Lift’.

It was an 8 hour surgery. I have a 360 degree scar that goes around my waist at the ‘bikini’ line.  They also rebuilt the abdominal wall as part of the surgery.

They removed just shy of 10 pounds of excess skin.

I had over a thousand stitches in my abdominal wall, which now has 4 vertical ‘pleats’. I had internal stitches the circumference of my hip line and then the incision was glued externally.  I had stitches in my newly crafted belly button. They repaired 3 hernias.

The doc said I was healing from ‘massive tissue trauma and disruption.’

I used the word OUCH a lot. Often paired with a cuss word. 🙂

They cut the skin at the pelvic/hip line and all the skin covering my ribs and upper belly, waist and back basically got pulled down – tight. I am REALLY simplifying it, but you get the idea.

I lost my belly button – which I find highly amusing.  I told the doc I didn’t care if I had a belly button, he said I needed one or I would look like a ‘Who’ from ‘Whoville’. 🙂

He built me a fake belly button.

It’s an innie. 🙂

My hips and the incision line are STILL totally numb well over a year later. I am told the feeling may never return.

I had 3 drains on the incision line for several weeks. Yup. It was as UNCOMFORTABLE and hard to manage, as you would imagine. It was a great day when those suckers got pulled out.

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About 18 hours post surgery. You can see the drains. I was up right after surgery and walking. I was hunched forward, which was my posture for about 6 weeks. As miserable as I was, I was already asking when I would be allowed to run. 🙂 (Photo credit Jill Kelleher, best nurse ever!)

I have to be honest.  In the early phases of healing from this surgery I was SURE I had made a horrible, terrible mistake… It was simply a brutal experience. No other way to explain it. Pain like I had never had to deal with. Right after surgery I may or may not have texted a few friends asking them to come kill me…  Maybe.  I’m glad none of them listened.

Thankfully, my regrets didn’t last too long…

I had a flawless recovery. A few minor infections – but nothing major.  The doc kept telling me it was because I had a healthy diet, perfectly controlled blood sugar and had taken the time to get in shape for the surgery.

This surgery has a high complication rate and is known for difficult, prolonged healing because of the 360 degree incision.

I avoided all of the major complications. 🙂

It was worth it.

All of it.

One of my goals from this surgery?  To be able to throw on a sports bra and shorts and just go RUN…

I could not even begin to imagine that kind of FREEDOM!!!   NOT having all this excess skin? Not having to worry about compression gear and infections and chafing and a belly flap of skin beating me to death? Just throwing on basic gear and going for a RUN?!?

This summer my friends Wendie and Josh invited me to go to Bend to run. Wendie KNEW I had this silly, but heart-felt goal of literally running in just my sports bra…

So we went to run a fabulous stretch of trail to Tumelo Falls.  (Wendie picked this spot, 2+ hours from home so we would NOT run into anyone we knew.)

I finally got brave and hot and sweaty enough about 45 minutes in on the run to FINALLY get rid of my shirt… I may have cried.  Just a little. 🙂

It was an incredible feeling to run with nothing but the basics.  Just because I FINALLY could.

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HELL of a trail run! We did try to convince Josh to run in just a sports bra.  🙂

To say that this surgery changed my life is an understatement.

Nowadays?  I and my fake belly button are free to just grab my favorite running clothes and a pair of shoes and GO run… Anytime. Anywhere.

Dream come true. 🙂

#runhappy #lifeisgood #novoveritas