Reversing diabetes

‘You have Diabetes…’

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 2 Comments
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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. 

I was not Type 1 (T1).  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.  It was 340. “Whoa. That can’t be right. We’ll check it again.”  342.

I had symptoms, serious symptoms that I was ignoring. Well, ignoring AND I thought it was just because I was fat.  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.  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  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.  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.  I was moving through the stages of grief in my own order. I had been in deep denial. I had bargained to no avail.  I was depressed.  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.  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…

So how did I learn to live with T2?

To be continued…

 

Worm Walks.

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 5 Comments

‘I hate to exercise’

Sometimes it’s said off-handedly. Sometimes with intense emotion. Usually with some kind of tone of apology or plea for sympathy.

Followed quickly by ‘So, how did you learn to like running…?’

I have this conversation weekly.  No lie.

It comes up when I admit that in the process of finding a healthy life I discovered that I love running.

I think that the real question or comment hanging in the air is ‘HOW can I learn to like being physically active?’ or ‘I’m too fat, too out of shape.”

I used to hate exercise too. ‘Run when chased’ and even then if I stood any kind of chance I would much rather stop and fight back.  I had no desire to run or take classes or lift weights. I had no fitness. I hated to sweat.

Times have changed.  

More importantly times CAN change. 

It obviously took some serious baby steps to change things.

I was 392 pounds and inactive. Now I’m healthy and love to run.  HOW did THAT happen?! How did I learn to love running?  How did I learn to make exercise a priority and habit?

The honest answer is boring.

I learned to love running by walking.

I started walking with my friend Hannah 8+ years ago. Long before I began my lifestyle overhaul.

Hannah is a runner, a good friend and has solidly healthy habits. I have looked up to her for years. She has been by my side on this journey almost every step of the way. Literally. (Not hyperbole.)  She’s an artist, a world-class photographer and one of the toughest women I know.

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Meet Hannah! One of my favorite pictures. Story for another day. Suffice it to say I talked her into a race I knew nothing about… But it had a great shirt. 🙂

Our early walks were a labor of love. And a time to chat. We would meet at the Oregon State campus in the morning, several days a week and walk. Slowly. Short distances. She would encourage and push me to walk just a little further each time we met.

Over the years these became the famous ‘Worm Walks’.

Worm Walks?

Yes… It rains a lot in Oregon. Worms are strewn all over the sidewalks and paths. When you are grossly overweight and out of shape, the act of pretending to save each and every worm you encounter is a brief, welcomed REST period. Trust me. It was a horrible, obvious stalling tactic. She knew what I was doing. I pretended otherwise.

We joke now about those early Worm Walks. Getting in a mile was a 30+ minute endeavor and thousands of worms were saved.

With Hannah’s help, being active became a consistent endeavor. A daily walk with my friend slowly became a habit I truly enjoyed and looked forward to.

I started to measure and observe things after a few months of walking…

  • How much further could we go?
  • How fast were we going?
  • How many miles had we covered in a week?
  • My blood sugars are better on the days we walk…
  • ‘Hey – I can walk AND talk to you without gasping for air…!’

I had no idea that the Worm Walks were the beginning of a lifestyle change.

With my lifestyle overhaul in full swing, Hannah and I signed up for a race January 1, 2012. We picked one where I could walk. It had generous time limits. Hannah knew that having a race to look forward to was important and would keep me focused on staying active. I hadn’t figured that out yet. I just knew that having an event to train for kept things FUN. Fun is important when you are doing hard, repetitive work. And we got free t-shirts. Win. Win. 🙂

I walked the first race; a 10K. I was the last person to finish. I was SORE for days. But I felt invincible. I had DONE it!

So I signed up for a marathon.

Logical reaction to completing your first-ever 10K – dontcha think?

The marathon was the SECOND event I ever signed up for. I planned to walk the whole thing. I remember when I told Hannah. Conversation went sort of like this;

 ‘Ummm… You signed up for a Marathon in 11 months??!!”

“YES!”

“Bets, you have not yet even done a HALF marathon…”

“I know. I am going to walk it. You’ll train with me. I can do this!”

“Yes. Yes you can! We really have to get training.”

THAT, my friends, THAT is a living example of unwavering support and friendship.

If she ever had any thoughts other than those of pure support and encouragement, I never knew it. She helped me pull training plans and understand them. She made sure I had good shoes. I got lectured about NOT wearing cotton. (Chafing.)  I couldn’t have done it without her. I know that. She knows that. Maui Marathon, including the months of training was an incredible experience.

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Night before the marathon. 🙂

Some of the best changes in our lives can happen because we simply choose to face our fears.

Signing up for a marathon was facing my fears.  A friend walking by my side made facing my fears possible.

And it changed everything.

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Maui Marathon, 2013.

Having a friend who was as eager to celebrate my goals and successes as she was her own. Slogging out the long, slow miles in happy, cheery companionship. Keeping me focused on learning and developing walking and running as a safe and life-long habit. Someone who understood the DAILY balance I was trying to find between fear and reason.

Someone who let me stop and pick-up worms.

Thousands of worms. 🙂

You have to walk before you can run.

#runhappy, #Lifeisgood

How to eat an elephant.

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 10 Comments

How do you eat an elephant?

One bite at a time. 

I love this truism. Fabulous reminder that to accomplish fantastically big things, you simply break them down into a bunch of LITTLE pieces.

That is how you clean your house. Plan for a big event. Earn a college degree.

And it’s exactly how you would go about eating an elephant.

Triple digit weight loss staring you in the face… Desperate to reverse a disease that has had you in a stranglehold for 10+ years… You have to THINK small, start small. The big picture can quickly overwhelm you into submission before you even get started.

I remember the intense anxiety and fledgling bravado I felt when I finally decided to own the idea that I was going to lose 200+ pounds and tackle T2 diabetes. I was desperately tired of being fat. I wanted OFF of insulin. And I knew, had been told multiple times, had dug up the research; odds were overwhelmingly against me being successful with either endeavor.

A freaking elephant was charging straight for me.

I remember thinking panicky, repetitive, self-defeating thoughts when I was trying to make the mental leap to start fighting for my life;

  1. No way in hell is this actually going to happen. BUT I have to start. T2 diabetes is going to kill me. Start or die. Those are my choices. Damn. My choices suck.
  2. I don’t think I even weighed less than 160 pounds when I was born. (Sorry mom.) That’s my ‘goal weight’?!
  3. I have to lose more than what MOST people ever weigh.
  4. This will take YEARS.
  5. I have to change everything. EVERY SINGLE THING.
  6. What if I can’t beat diabetes?  What if I have done too much damage to my body?
  7. What if it is TRUE that once you go on injectable insulin you are screwed? It’s all over. You can never lose weight.
  8. Do I know anyone who has lost a huge amount of weight and kept it off? Anyone?(Crickets.)
  9. Do I know anyone who has reversed T2 diabetes? (Crickets. Again.)
  10. No one understands how hard this is going to be. NO ONE. HOLY CRAP.  I am alone.
  11. Food. Oh no… Food. Why does this have to involve food?
  12. Exercise? Are you freaking kidding me?! Wear Spandex in front of PEOPLE?  No way… That alone WILL kill me.
  13. WHERE do I even begin?  (Panic. Tears. Shame.)
  14. Once I get started I can never, ever, stop… This is for the REST OF MY LIFE.

Repeat cycle. Re-inforce negative thinking. Talk yourself out of taking action because you can’t really do this…

THEN…  Then I went to lunch with my friend Jennifer Vina.

I was at the point where the idea of mega-weight loss and abolishing diabetes and getting healthy was fighting hard to become stronger than my list of fears.  (Or if I am being a drama queen, sappy, happy my reflection on that time is that my desire to LIVE was finally becoming stronger than my fear of dying…)

Anyway, I remember verbally vomiting all over Jennifer. Confiding in her what I really wanted to do in an unorganized, frantic, tear-filled fashion. I was finally saying this out loud to another person. She listened to it all. Then she made me write everything down.  How much I weighed.  What I wanted to lose.  How long it would take. Precise dates. What would happen if I lost a pound a week? No fears allowed. No hedging. Unwavering encouragement. She gently, but pointedly, forced me to think about what I wanted and exactly how to get there.

She SHOWED me how to eat the elephant.

I left with my plan written down on a napkin. And a huge life-gift.  She had convinced me I could do it. I could do ANYTHING. I just had to break it down… It was the first time I felt that this might all be possible. My confidence would come and go, many, many times. Still does to be honest. BUT this first hint of confidence was amazing!

‘You just have to start. Then don’t stop. Just don’t stop.’  (Her simple encouragement has morphed into one of my consistent running mantras when things get tough.)

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Jennifer and her first-born in her arms. First time I got to meet the little one!

Everyone’s start and progress and success looks different – even if we are trying to eat the same weight loss/T2 diabetes elephant.

PLEASE take a moment to acknowledge that idea.

The biggest tensions I have had with people about my journey is that they think that’s what theirs should look like. That is NOT how this works. NOT at all.

YOU have to own your own journey and success and work. Don’t compare. I learned the hard way that comparisons are useless, painful and demoralizing. Own your journey. This has to be about finding what works for you.

Eat your own damn elephant. 🙂

If you want to try someone’s idea or habit to see if it will fit/work for you? Solid idea! I do it all the time. COMPARING? Not good. Not at all.  Just to be clear.

In case one of these ideas seems like something you might want to try ‘on’ for yourself to see if it might work, this is how I got started:

  1. Wrote down the facts, goals, roughed-out plans.  Writing it down made it real and made it not so danged scary.
  2. I told a handful of good friends. I reached out to the people who had watched me try and fail repeatedly and loved me anyway. I called them and said ‘I’m doing this – I’m serious…” Wade, Hannah, Liz, Deb, Anneke.  I asked them to stick with me. I asked for permission to check in. Gave them permission to check in with me. I promised to not be defensive.
  3. I got approval from my doctor.  I was morbidly obese and a T2 diabetic. Turns out when a patient expresses a firm desire and has a plan of action to try to get their health back; docs are SUPER supportive.
  4. I picked ONE thing at a time to work on.  Small things. Drinking more water. Writing down my food. Going for a walk each day. I picked one healthy habit and worked on it until I was comfortable that it wouldn’t go away. Then I picked a new one to learn.

One last story or caveat… 🙂 When tackling lifestyle changes, do NOT try to make a ton of changes all at the same time. I tried that. Gung-ho, ready to fight and change my life.  But making ALL of the sweeping changes at one time was a TOTAL disaster. It was simply TOO much change, too shocking.  I had a major, epic, short-lived meltdown. Wade took my frantic call and STRONGLY suggested that maybe we should focus on just ONE thing at a time...  ‘Let’s just take one concrete, healthy thing at a time.  And freaking BREATHE Bets.  Just breathe.’ 🙂

ONE bite at a time. Just one, small bite at a time…

THAT is how I learned to eat an elephant.

You have lost weight! What is your secret?!

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 8 Comments

‘What is your secret to losing weight and reversing type 2 diabetes?’

One of the top 5 question I get asked. Right up there with ‘Do you wear underwear with your bike shorts?’ (No, BTW… More in another post.)

I hate to be the killjoy… But there is no secret to losing weight.

None. 

No one seems to want to hear the honest answer.  They think they do until I tell them. Then they typically shake their head, cross their arms and tell me why it can not work for them…

Eat less. Move more. 

This honest, simple answer is NOT the sexy, cool, fun, easy answer people are hoping to hear. But it IS the answer.

I looked for the ‘secret’ for years.  I tried everything I could to avoid the answer I knew was looming there all along…

EAT LESS CRAP and GET YOUR BUTT MOVING.

What do I think about this pill, commercial programs complete with packaged food, or elimination of entire food groups? They are all gimmicks or lies or at best, half-truths. Sorry. Marketers and businesses are savvy and they know people desperately want promises of lasting success with very little work needed. Magic sells a whole hell of a lot better than hard work.

I also get asked for my thoughts on gastric bypass surgery. My doctor pushed me to consider it. My BMI was 61. I was the ideal candidate physically. In the process of learning more about it, I began to understand surgery was not going to solve my problem. Surgery could not really fix WHY I got fat. If I was going to lose weight and KEEP IT OFF, I  had to start with changing my brain and life-long habits. Surgery was not for me.

My complete overhaul started in July 2011. I started eating less and making smarter food choices. Ditched fast food. Measured portions. Counted calories. Wrote down everything I ate. Sweets were banned. (It remains a trigger for me; this continues to be a self-imposed restriction.) Leaner cuts of meat. Quit eating in my car. Being intentional and mindful about my eating experiences. Then, when the weight started to come off, I started walking. Walking. Walking.  Basic stuff.

All of this becomes vastly more complicated when you include T2 diabetes in the mix.

While working to lose weight, get off of insulin and cement new habits I still had lows or highs that HAD to be adjusted. We were being VERY careful with the ‘exit plan’ for getting off of insulin, but I had been warned ‘wild’ blood sugars were going to happen. The adjustments I needed to make sometimes threw my entire eating and activity plan for the day out the window.  It was intensely frustrating and confusing at times. Going back to my old ways was a seriously appealing idea on more than a few occasions. Not gonna lie.

I remember trying to run one time when I was low.  I didn’t want to eat the carbs/calories I needed to adjust my blood sugar. In my mind, I hadn’t ‘saved’ enough calories for even a handful of jelly beans that day. I refused to skip the run; I was starting to really love running. And I really, really didn’t want to have to explain all of this to Spencer, my brand-new running coach.

I showed up cranky and disoriented and argumentative. My running partners, Josh and Joe, quickly figured out I was low. The way I remember the incident is that they threatened to shove jelly beans somewhere jelly beans didn’t belong if I did not immediately and voluntarily eat some sugar. The jelly beans put me over my calorie allotment for the day.  I was pissed at my predicament and slightly pissed at them for making me correct it. I was worried about calories and weight loss which is the last thing I, the diabetic, should have been worried about with out-of-whack blood glucose.  They were right.  I was wrong.  I am extremely lucky they were looking out for me.

It turned out to be a really, really good lesson in diabetes management and friendship.

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Joe Van V., Tour de Cure 2014 for Diabetes. Joe was my training partner for  an endurance Tri/Duathlon and Century. (100 mile bike ride!) He’s a FREAKING Ironman!
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Josh Gum, the man who put the idea of an Ultra in my head close to 3 years ago. Ironman and badass ultra runner. Josh and his wife Wendie have each lost a lot of weight, kept it off and embraced an entirely new, healthy lifestyle and mind set in the process.

Managing all of these pieces is hard to do. No doubt about it. Eat less. Move more. Manage blood sugar. There are NO secrets or shortcuts. While that kind of sucks — it’s also a form of freedom if you choose to view it that way…

There no absolutes about what life and a path to success looks like on a daily basis with diabetes in the mix. That’s OK! Stay focused on getting it as right as you can, as often as you can with what works best FOR YOU.

I was upset at having to correct a bad low in the middle of the night with soda and candy early on my journey to get off of insulin. I saw this as a total defeat in my effort to revamp my eating. Even though all I was doing was adjusting a low… (Low blood sugar brain can be really mean and snarky!) Once my blood sugar was normal and my brain was working again my dad told me:

“Get this as right as you, as often as you can. You’ll make progress. Re-focus on the very next step you need to take to reach your bigger goal. You are doing all the right things. Your body just has to figure out how to work with you now that you are getting healthy.”

There is no secret. I’m really sorry to burst your bubble.

This business of losing weight and cementing the habits needed to keep it off is some of the hardest work you will ever do.

And as it turns out, some of the best, most rewarding work you will ever do.

How did you get so fat?

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 23 Comments
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2003, 392+ pounds. Size 28 stock dress – altered up a size or two. I was giving myself 3 shots a day and taking 7 other drugs. (Lantus, Byetta, Metformin, Lisinopril, Lovostatin, etc…)

Legitimate question. Rude and hurtful, but honest.

I weighed 392 pounds at my heaviest. I’m 5’7.

How did I get that fat?

The 5-second answer is embarrassingly simple. I ate too much and I hated to sweat.

The layered, nuanced answer requires you to peek inside my flawed thinking. And yes, I am nervous about opening this particular set of doors, thank you for asking. But it’s time to be honest.

Here is the how I got to be 392 pounds before I chose to do anything about it:

  1.  I had a life-long, seriously screwed up relationship with food. It controlled me. I thought about food from the time I woke up, to the time I went to bed. I was addicted to food and the comfort it gave. I would make or change plans based on food. My happiest moments growing up are centered around food. You can’t not eat. You have to have SOME kind of relationship with food. Food owned me.
  2. I had given up hope and was flirting non-stop with apathy. I knew I weighed a ridiculous amount. I had been overweight my entire life. Diets had failed me. Why bother? I was just destined to be fat. If society was hung up on looks — screw ’em. I knew I was a good person, the packaging should not matter
  3. T2 diabetes could easily be managed with drugs. I didn’t need to do the work. And how serious was it really? Plenty of people lived long lives with T2. Giving myself shots? There were worse things.
  4. To reverse this train wreck would take serious work. I knew it would be unbearably hard work. Work you could never, ever stop doing.
  5. I had failed every single ‘diet’ I had ever tried. Every. Single. One. Fen-phen. Nutrisystems. Weight Watchers. Alli. Medi-fast. South Beach. Atkins. Jenny Craig. Cabbage soup. You name it… I tried and failed at it.
  6. I was hiding. Wait.. What? Those who know anything about me know that I am an unabashed extrovert. I am a genuinely happy person and in most cases – a totally open book. I also happen to have severe self-confidence issues about my body. Staying fat kept me well protected from dealing with unwanted attention. I have always been uncertain and nervous around men. Being fat kept me padded from comments or attention and was the perfect solution. I was not the pretty friend, I was the funny, kind friend who was the trustworthy side-kick. I could be happy and work hard and be confident about everything else in my life and yet successfully hide from the world in plain sight as a fat woman.

Ouch.

Getting to be grossly overweight is like the analogy of how to boil a frog. If you boiled a pot of water and then threw a frog in, it would immediately hop back out to safety. BUT if you took the same frog and placed him in a cold pot of water and turned up the heat gradually… You would wind up with perfectly boiled frogs’ legs. They don’t realize what’s happening. They don’t feel a need to jump to safety. They accept each passing moment as their new reality. It eventually kills them.

You get to be 392 pounds because you very slowly adapt and change to your increasing bulk. It never alarms you in the day to day. You just wake up one day and realize you weigh 392 pounds.  And it’s killing you.

It has taken years and miles of running and some blessedly patient friends with good listening skills to help me understand exactly how best to begin to answer this tough question…

*Work in progress. Stay tuned.*

Can I ask you a question…?

~ betsyhartley392 ~ 2 Comments

I get asked a lot of questions about my journey in reversing type 2 (T2) diabetes and finding a healthy life.  LOTS.

They are probing, emotion-laden, frantic, rude, personal, funny.  They are never easy to answer. These are not casual questions, even if it might seem that way on the surface.

I began compiling a list of some of the FAQ’s and conversations starters that I have encountered these past 3+ years. The list is three pages long, single-spaced. I wasn’t kidding.  I told you… I get asked a lot of questions.

I also get asked at least weekly if I have a blog.

I do now.

I want to answer those questions. My answers are based only on my personal experience with this roller coaster of adopting a new lifestyle. I will be honest about the tough stuff that comes with mega-weight loss and battling T2 and learning to love being physically active.

Now for the disclaimer: I’m obviously not a doctor. I’m just a stubborn, former fat girl who decided she wanted something different. And started fighting for it.  And continues to chase it down each and every day. That’s all the credentials I can offer up.

I can talk about what it feels like to have a triple-digit weight loss staring you in the face.  I totally understand having tried every diet/pill/magic remedy no matter how ridiculous or questionable or unsafe. I know what it is like to be told to exercise when walking out to your car after work saps every spare ounce of energy you have left.  I will never forget the overwhelm when my doctor explained my T2 diabetes diagnosis, shoved packages of needles and syringes in my hands and let me walk out the door with no instructions on how to actually give myself an injection. I was told to ‘eat better’. Whatever in the hell that meant…  I mean my track record and the scale would prove that perhaps the judgement needed to ‘eat better’ was not one of my stronger skills.

There was no one to help me navigate those confusing and isolated paths. I would love to be the help or encouragement for someone that I really, really needed back when my health started to unravel. This is no way discounts my friends who never left my side.  But I desperately needed to talk to someone who had been in those 400 pound shoes. Someone to offer up a word of advice as I struggled to figure out a relationship with food that was overtly and ‘suddenly’ a poison to my T2 system. Someone to talk to me about starting to exercise when you wear 4X clothing.

How did you let yourself get so fat?

How did you learn to love running, because I absolutely HATE exercise?

So… Are you telling me that I can never eat ice cream/candy/cake/pie/pizza again?  Ever?

I have to lose so much weight this is impossible.

What’s your secret?  There must be some sort of secret…

I have found a scant handful of folks who have successfully reversed T2. And fewer folks who have lost significant amounts of weight and are successfully keeping it off.  (Surgical or not…)  It’s a lonely little club. Right now at least.

My new-found passion and quest in life?  Find others facing and battling T2.  Find others who are ready to tackle weight loss, want to learn to love exercise and understand that means they have to embrace radical lifestyle shifts.  I will help where I can with support and encouragement. I want to use what I have learned to HELP people.

I would love to grow this lonely little club into a freaking monster tribe of healthy and active friends.