 I love Vegas.
There was a time in my life when I came to this city every year or so. Hotels to see. Shows to watch. Attractions to partake. But more important than all of those things:
Food to eat.
Alcohol to drink.
Money to throw into slot machines.
There was a time in my life when being gluttonous and not caring about my body sounded like the best time in my life. Hopping from buffet to buffet, buying the big plastic glass full of sweet tasting liquor and throwing quarters into a slot machine until my hands were covered in dirty money film was the highlight of my days when I was morbidly obese. You’d think of all the places I would want to visit now that I am more conscious about the food I eat, the lack of liquor I consume and the fact that I would rather run double digits than sit for hours playing video games, Vegas would be last on my list. But here I sit in the the McCarran Airport waiting for Meegan to arrive so that we can spend the next 7 days together and then return to our perspective homes resuming this long distance marriage.
Of all the places we could meet in the middle, this was the cheapest. No wonder. Vegas is like going to the grocery store. You get what you want (a cheap airline ticket) and then they get you with the impulse buys like the ones you find while waiting in line to pay for your groceries. Hard not to throw your money into a machine or lay it down on a roulette table when visions of hitting it big are played over and over again for you and the flashing lights make everything so tempting. Cheap food (unless you go to the fancy buffets), cheap liquor (if your gambling at the same time) and before you know it you’re out hundreds of dollars (or thousands for some people) and so full of carbs all you can do is sleep it off and resume the activities the next day.
Not me.
Not this time.
This time I come prepared.
My suitcase isn’t packed with size 24 pants and XXL t-shirts. It isn’t packed with an extra large towel because I know the hotel towels won’t wrap around me. Instead it’s packed with my New Balance cross trainers and gym clothes because we made a pact to go to the gym everyday before we begin our adventures. Instead of making room for a stupid towel that I had to drag everywhere I made room for a bathing suit that I’m actually going to use (multiple times). Instead of wondering how much farther of a walk it is to the next hotel because I’m uncomfortable carrying around a 270 pound body when it’s sweaty and my thighs are rubbing together, I’ll be wondering if I’m drinking enough water because my ass is walking as much as possible over the next 7 days. Instead of wondering how many desserts I can shove into my mouth at the buffet, I’m going to think consciously about where I’m eating, what I’m eating and most importantly how much I’m eating.
I recognize life is meant to be enjoyed. No point in stressing myself out over every morsel going into my mouth or wearing a heart rate monitor so I know I’ve burned a certain number of calories. The next 7 days is about spending it in the moment with someone I care deeply for, not worrying about things that I can absolutely control…
Because today I am
In control.
(everyday)
 www.azuzephre.net Sometimes when I least expect it, the universe drops a message so strong I can’t help but put my fingers to a keyboard and set out on a path of making sense of what I’m supposed to be learning.
The other day I was feeling sorry for myself.
I know, I know not much of a surprise. I’ve been trying to pull myself together having to put Meegan on a plane after being married for barely a week and being so clueless about how this whole “Move to Canada” process works, how long it’s going to take, how many trips will need to be planned before I can pack up Dusty and head East.
My world (as I currently have assembled it) has come down to a laptop, a logitech camera, Skype, the small confines of how far my computer cord will reach and where the closest outlet to where I am is located. This means I spend a lot of time sitting on my bed staring into the face of the person I wish more than anything I could physically touch. There are days that are awesome (think international dates consisting of bottles of wine, shared meals, fancy cheeses and hours looking at cakewrecks together).
 www.azuzephre.net Then there are days not so awesome.
I get lonely. I get frustrated. I get sad. I get angry. I get so jumbled up with emotions and not really knowing how to talk about them coherently I shut down. I start to talk to myself in such a negative way I wouldn’t even know the first step in trying to talk about how I’m feeling because I can’t hear myself through all the “Tara, your feelings are stupid” and the “Tara, seriously you’re like the biggest baby ever” and let’s not forget the “Tara, no one cares about your feelings“.
I’m prone to shutting down when I can’t get a grasp on my emotions (and by emotions I mean the ones that cause me pain: sadness, anxiety, angst, fear…you know the one’s I’m talking about) because I truly believe that I am not as important as the person standing next to me and that my inability to express how I’m feeling will inevitably cause people to not want to be with me which would complete the emotional hamster wheel of “eventually everyone will abandon me” that I’ve been on for most of my life.
 www.azuzephre.net Not too long ago I had one of those days.
Okay I’ve had several
It’s hard not to get emotional when what you want more than anything is a hug from the person that brings comfort to your life and you’re stuck staring at them through a computer screen. It doesn’t take long for operation “Shut down” to be in full force and once again I find myself in an emotional upheaval and not knowing how to talk about it because as soon as it starts to build, I convince myself that if I open my mouth the verbal vomit I need to spill is unworthy of being heard.
After staring at the face looking back at me hoping for answers to questions I don’t know how to ask, we both agree I need to go outside and get some fresh air. It’s almost painful to leave the laptop behind these days because it’s all I have until I know concretely what my next step is to being over there instead of over here. However, I know from being on this Life Changing Journey that when you’re slipping into emotional instability you also slip into self-deprecation which is never a good path to travel. So off I go to find some coffee and watch people aimlessly wander by me in hopes of clearing my mind and getting a grasp on my emotions…
 www.azuzephre.net Sitting outside, sad but grateful for the fresh air, I over hear the conversation of two women sitting a few tables down from me. It’s hard not to hear what they are talking about since they are animated and loud and sort of invading my personal pity party. One of them is about as pitiful looking as I’m sure I’m feeling and also looking. You can see her eyes start to water and the tears well up as her friend starts to console her:
- “You deserve better”
- “You’ll get over this”
- “You need to take care of yourself”
- “You live what you believe”
- “You need to change your truth”
Excuse me?
Is she talking to her friend or has the universe placed this stranger and her heart-broken friend next to me because this is really what I need to hear and wouldn’t have had the ability to listen if someone was talking directly to me?
You (I) live what you (I) believe.
I believe that my emotions / feelings are not important. I believe that people don’t care about how I’m feeling. I believe that I deserve to suffer in angst instead of trying to talk through what I’m feeling. I believe that no matter how well I can articulate what I’m going through it will always come out sounding stupid. I believe that as soon as I let someone in and begin to trust that they truly want to listen and be a part of this hamster wheel I’m trying to get off of they are going to leave. I truly believe it is better to be silent and hope the feelings in that moment will fade rather than open up and learn to understand (and believe) that those that love me do so unconditionally. I live what I believe and what I believe when it comes to my emotions / feelings is not okay.
 www.azuzephre.net You (I) need to change your (my) truth.
It’s not okay that this is my truth. It’s not okay that after spending the last 20 months of my life, rebuilding a body physically and learning to love the space between the very top of my head to the very bottom of my feet that I still feel emotionally undeserving of being listened too, being heard and more importantly giving myself a chance to change the emotional truth of Old Tara and find the emotional Truth of New Tara. Sharing the intimate parts of my fears, frustrations, confusions and downright sadness begins the process of understanding that when I begin to feel the angst of abandonment it’s not because it is what’s going to happen, but rather what I believe is going to happen.
Changing one’s truth isn’t easy.
Knowing that in order to change my truth I have to do something very out of character is scary (and again the hamster wheel spins even writing this blog post) but I am willing to try. Already plans are in place for when operation “Shut Down” has been issued by Old Tara. Instead of staring at a computer screen in times of angst, I’m (with the help of a stern but kind push) doing little things like leaving the room and continuing the conversation via text because it’s easier for me talk about my feelings when I’m not looking at someone trying to read their body language (which I’m getting wrong 99% of the time…). Instead of hours being spent sitting on a bed staring blankly into a computer screen waiting for the magic teleport machine to be invented, built and delivered, events are being planned that can still take place from 4000 miles away (seriously you should try international movie date / cake date / picnic date) but feel like we’re close together.
 www.azuzephre.net I don’t know if I’ll ever get over this fear of abandonment. This belief that my feelings aren’t important enough. The old truth that what I say isn’t worth listening too. I don’t know if I’ll ever finally jump off that hamster wheel I’ve come so accustom to riding as it spins round and round, but I’m at a place in my life I’m willing to try.
I’m sure I know someone will be there if I fall.
Take some time to think about your own truths. Are they the ones of the new you? The truths that help you step forward as you embark on your own Life Changing Journey? Or are they the truths of old? The truths of “I can’t”, “I’ll never be able too” or “what’s the point”? Are they the truths of new discoveries and understanding of yourself or are they the truths of feeling undeserving of love. Whatever those truths are remember one very important thing:
You live what you believe.
Emotional.
Not in a good way.
In a way I wasn’t expecting.
At a time in my life when there should be much celebration for love found and moments shared it’s been hard to keep my head above the emotional waves. I feel as if I’m being pulled in a multitude of directions and not sure which one is where my head/heart and body should follow. I didn’t expect that spending three weeks with Meegan would have the profound effect it has had on my emotional stability and yet here I am at three in the morning trying to come to some clear understanding of how I’m feeling and how it’s messing with my everyday function…
Making the necessary choices/decisions to stay here in the moment (eat well, work hard physically, stay positive) hasn’t been easy the last couple of weeks. I find myself wanting to turn to food to comfort the 4000 miles between us. I find myself wanting to skip out on going to the gym or breaking a sweat because emotional Tara would rather have a prime seat to her own pity party instead of doing something I’ve come to love and more importantly come to need.
I’m spending more time questioning whether we made the right decision to get married, contemplating how can she possibly love me, focusing on what I believe to be my absolute faults and waiting for the hammer to fall on my head rather than spending time preparing for what is possibly the biggest adventure of my life. Instead of looking forward to being with her as much as possible as I wait for paperwork, interviews and jumping through the little hoops set before me, I’m focused on how much time I’m not with her and it’s causing me to slip into some places I shouldn’t allow myself to go.
Some days are easier than others.
As can be expected.
Other days I wonder when the downpour of emotions is going to stop. Today is one of those days. I just want to get up, go to boxing, head to work and be happy. Instead I’m up after a little bit of sleep and working through my feelings at three in the morning. Not too long ago I would have looked for relief scraping the bottom of an empty ice cream tub or while licking the salt off my fingers polishing off some big bag of chips. I would have looked for relief by turning off my emotions and turning on my computer as I took my World of Warcraft characters through a reality that was closer to what I thought was real than what was truly in front of me…
It’s difficult staying in the moment.
It’s difficult to focus on what’s right in my world when I’ve spent an entire lifetime focused on what’s wrong.
I’m not even sure where this post is going. I should be writing about upcoming races and triathlons. I should be throwing down some words of wisdom, pumping my fist in the air proclaiming “We can do this” and marching head first into the battle ground ready to fight the good fight against my emotions. Instead I’m wondering how in the world am I going to get through today without stuffing my face, having a good cry and not letting that little voice in my head have it’s way with my already compromised state of well being.
I’ll start with a little boxing.
And go from there…
 May our days be filled with tangled fingers I was the last child of four.
This means that by the time I was born the excitement of taking pictures of drooling faces and sleeping angels had worn off. I have one baby picture (outside of the obligatory hospital photo) that I didn’t even know existed until after my mother had been gone for close to ten years and I had just been in contact with a father I didn’t know was still alive until I had spent 30 years on this earth. My paternal grandmother had kept it, waiting for me…and after all that time of wondering if we would ever cross paths, she sent it to me: It was of my mother holding me in her arms.
I was the child of a single mother.
This means that when elementary school pictures were being taken I often took an empty envelope to school. I don’t remember what it was like to sit on that small black stool and be told to brush my hair back, look into the camera and for the love all that is pure to please smile. I do remember what it was like when pictures were delivered to our classrooms and I went home empty handed. If there were any pictures of me growing up they were few and far in between.
 May our days be filled with shy kisses I was the child of mentally ill parent.
By the time I reached high school, my mother had pretty much checked out. She was here, but it was more important for her to be sharing bar stools and lonely stories with her “friends” than it was for her to be making lasting memories with her only daughter. While the popular kids in high school were getting full page coverage in our yearbook(s) I was getting my one picture taken and hating every minute of it. By this time I couldn’t stand to look at a picture of myself. My perception of what I thought I looked like was skewed. I thought I was obese. I thought I was ugly. I thought the only thing I was good for was giving boys what they wanted just so I could feel loved for short moments in my life. If there are pictures of me and the few friends I had coming into my adulthood I am unaware of them.
 May our days be filled with helping each other with the little things I was a meth addict.
Deep in my depression the idea of having my picture taken was like a slap in the face. Why in the world would I take even three seconds to try and capture this time in my life? I spent so much time trying to get high and forget about who I was that you’d be dead crazy to think I’d stand there for you while a picture was snapped of me. I think there is one picture of me during this time in my life. I had decided to get clean and got checked into a clean and sober house. The house was about to be shut down due to lack of funding after I had been there for close to 6 months. Reporters came to use our sad stories to pull at the heart strings of their readers. I was featured on the front page standing against the house. It was the first picture I actually liked of myself. I was getting healthy for the first time in my life. I felt good about the choices I was making to get clean and there was this look of hope coming from my eyes….
 May our days be filled with laughter I was the child of terminally ill parent.
Just before my 21st birthday my mother left me and this world. Even though we didn’t have a relationship I would call healthy under any means she was still my mother. While she was alive there was always the hope of making memories. When she took her last breath, she took those memories with her. What did I look like as a baby? Did I cry a lot? Was I easy to rock to sleep? Were you happy I was a girl? Left alone to fend for myself and not having drugs to turn to any longer I returned to what was comforting for me as a child: Food. I found comfort in boxes of macaroni and frozen dinners. I found friendships in those people behind the counter that asked me if I wanted to super size my fries or if I wanted to add an apple pie dessert to my #3 meal. If there are any pictures of this time in my life I’m sure I’m making some comical facial expression or hiding behind someone as the self hatred and depression once again blanketed everything I knew to be my life. To protect myself from what I thought was a world that didn’t love me or think I was deserving of anything good, I began to add pounds to a body I had no idea how to love.
 May our days be filled with such closeness no one can come between us. I was 270 pounds
It didn’t happen overnight. In fact it took two marriages and 20 years of sitting around watching my life go no where. Finding myself 100+ pounds over weight, depressed to the point of what I thought was no return and afraid to take the necessary steps to change my life for the better you can imagine I was not one to jump on a photo opportunity when one was presented to me. It wasn’t until I began to take monthly pictures of my weight loss did I begin to look at my body differently. I was excited to see the changes that I couldn’t see looking down. When I began to cross finish lines with numbers pinned to my front, I looked forward to what pictures were being captured of me. Did I remember to look up? Did I remember to smile? Wow, I look really sweaty at mile marker two. As I began to find comfort in who I was seeing in the mirror every morning I began to find some comfort in the pictures I was taking on a daily basis as I learned how to shop for clothes, buy food not from a drive-thru and become close to the one person I thought was lost for good.
 May our days be filled with kept promises. I am who I no longer was.
It’s been a long 20 months. Who I was when I first stepped up to the starting line of this Life Changing Journey is gone. I still have days of self doubt and days where looking in the mirror comes with difficulty. I have days where I still think of myself as obese and wonder how I’m going to get into the single digit jeans in my closet. I have days where the tears fall heavily as I mourn relationships lost and changes made that I never saw coming. I have days where I don’t think I can keep moving forward and wonder how I can help those succeed when I don’t feel like I’m much of a success myself. But now there are these really wonderful things in my life that prove everything I do is worth it: pictures. They aren’t easy to take. I still find myself trying to be comical even when I should be serious. I’m often too critical of what I see (a wrinkle here, some loose skin there, a smile that looks a little out of place). But in those pictures are proof of what I’ve done to get to where I am today. In those pictures are proof that the choices that were hard to make were exactly the ones that I had to be strong in making.
In those pictures are the proof that even when you think life is as good as it gets…
It only gets better.
A few months ago I put a call out on twitter for people to put some words down to guest blog here on a Life Changing Journey. I love the idea of people jumping ship for a day and putting their thoughts over on someone else’s “home”. It’s about leaving your comfort zone. It’s about finding new readers. It’s about reaching out to someone that might just need to hear your words that wouldn’t have the opportunity.
I got a pretty good response. I have a file full of guest blogs ranging from people who have been on this journey for a long time and can throw back some wisdom for those coming behind them to those just taking their first few steps in the direction they deserve to travel and are a good reminder of where we can never return.
This is David’s post!
 David is one of those guys that when you start reading his blog you quickly want to know everything about him. From his long ass weight loss chart on his wall to his beautiful vegetables he uses when he cooks and let’s not forget his “What’s in the RediSetGo” Installation (which is up to 18 if you’re not following).
Here are some things you should know about David:
- His highest weight was 402 pounds.
- He doesn’t weigh that anymore!
- He was once a contestant on a game show!
- He’s appeared on the Ellen Show!
- He’s got mad veggie chopping skills.
- He’s not afraid to try any fruit/veggie (no seriously he’s not)
- His weight loss Mentor is uber awesome (keep reading)
- He’s lost the equivalent of 123 ipad2(s) or one Venus Williams
- He’s amazing…
Have fun!
________________________________________________________________
Hello, lovely readers of A Life Changing Journey! I’m David, and my blog is Keep It Up David, where I write about my own weight loss journey – I’ve lost over 160 pounds and counting, and I share everything: struggles, successes, recipes, workouts… I’m just tryin’ to keep myself going. As Tara’s blog title says, getting healthy is a life changing journey, and I don’t wanna quit!
I’ve been reading A Life Changing Journey for months now, and I’m continually amazed at how Tara shares her life with such honesty and bravery. This blog has, on multiple occasions, stopped me in my tracks and forced me to pick my jaw back up off the floor. And it’s not just here, either – Tara has left a couple comments on my own blog that give me pause, make me think, and, on one occasion, given me a headache.
No joke.
Look, I just formatted that sentence Tara-style! Sorry, Tara, I couldn’t resist. Anyhoo – I thought I’d use this opportunity to talk about one of the things I get asked most about: motivation. Just recently, I got a note from a reader that said, “How? I have no idea how you do it…I have a lot of will power, but can’t seem to keep myself motivated…Always struggled with my weight and still do…How do you stay so motivated?”
I’ll be the first to admit that my weight-loss journey, so far, has been extraordinary. Losing the 160+ pounds that I’ve lost has been, without a doubt, the toughest thing I’ve ever done, and an incredible source of pride. I think some people assume that one day I woke up, decided I was gonna lose a shit-ton of weight, and then did it. But that’s not how it happened.
When I started making changes in my diet and exercise, I was terrified of failure. I already thought of myself as a failure for being the size that I was (I got up to 402 pounds), and slimming down seemed so horribly daunting. I used to think: What if I try to lose weight and I can’t do it? It’s just another failure to add to the list. I didn’t expect to be as successful as I’ve been – in fact, a part of me was certain that I was destined to be obese my whole life, and I was resigned to that. I didn’t even set a goal until about 2 or 3 months in, because I was afraid I’d be setting myself up for failure. But I started making changes anyway – small ones at first, like cutting back and eventually eliminating Diet Coke, trying to curb excessive snacking, trying to not to eat after 8pm, and then built on them, and soon, the weight starting coming off. I also had (and still have) a kick-ass celebrity mentor (see who it is, and learn more about my relationship with him, here).
Those first few weeks were some of the toughest weeks, by far. I kept myself motivated by focusing on the day-to-day steps I could take to be healthier, and not the whole huge big picture. I didn’t wake up every morning and think about the hundreds of pounds that I needed to lose. I woke up and thought about what I could do that day (like pack a healthy lunch and bring gym clothes so I can exercise after work) to make some progress.
Reprogramming your brain to focus on the little things and not the entirety of your weight problem is tough, but it can be done. And that’s how I recommend anyone that wants to lose weight get started: pinpoint a few small things that you can do today (like taking a flight of stairs instead of an elevator, or drinking a glass of water before a meal so you don’t eat as much) and DO THEM. DO THEM EVERY DAY. After a couple days, add a few more things, and a few days after that, add a few more things, and so on. Little things add up. They really do.
Lately, I’ve been struggling with motivation. I’ve lost and gained the same 3 or 4 pounds over and over again for the past 5 months, and it’s frustrating. When I was regularly losing weight, I could use last week’s loss as a motivator for the next week, but that’s not an option when you’re plateauing. So now, despite the 160+ pounds that I’ve lost, I’ve found myself reverting to the same thought cycles I had when I started all this: What can I do today that pushes me a little further, a little harder? Can I find or create a new healthy recipe to liven up a food that’s starting to bore me? Can I go for 5 minutes longer than I was planning at the gym? Thinking along these lines works for me, because they’re creating tiny little goals that are achievable, and the sense of satisfaction that comes with having a successful day ends up being a huge motivator. Even if I don’t lose weight one week, I can celebrate that I lasted 3 more minutes than I expected to on the StairMaster, or resisted junk food at a party. Those things matter.
I’m gonna end this guest post the same way I end every post on my own blog: with a simple message to myself that sums up everything I’ve accomplished so far, and everything I’ll accomplish in the future:
Keep it up, David.
 That Somebody?
Is you.
Stop fighting with yourself. Stop telling yourself you’ll make changes tomorrow. Stop trying to come up with some excuse about how you need to take care of (insert family member, friend, boss, church function, random stranger on the street here) first before you can even begin to think about taking care you you.
Stop complicating your life.
It can be so easy to just throw our hands up and resolve ourselves to being unhappy. Accepting the fact that we will never be able to take the time to lose the weight, work through the depression, make the changes necessary for living the life we so desperately want and need (and deserve).
Often times we point our fingers outwards. We blame the external relationships or environment from keeping us from reaching our full potential, from making the small changes that lead to the bigger changes that lead to a life full of excitement and new discoveries. That finger that you’re pointing outward and blaming everyone else?…
Point it inward.
Stop hurting yourself. Fuck, go to the mirror right now and touch a part of your body you hate and tell yourself that you’re going to stop hurting yourself. Start learning to love everything about you. EVERYTHING. I only say this because I struggle on a daily basis to love all parts of me. I will think something good about myself and then immediately bash that good thought over the head with the sledge hammer of “but I hate this about myself”.
So frustrating.
So complicating.
So unfair.
We look to our external environment for the excuses we need so that we don’t have to look to the real reason we’re not making the changes (we deserve): We are afraid to look internally at the necessary changes. Needing to lose over 100 pounds, needing to end a relationship that we’re unhappy in, wanting to be more and do more but afraid to take that first flight of stairs.
Afraid of the potential.
Afraid of leaving the known.
Afraid of facing the unknown.
It’s time to take that long hard look at yourself. It’s time to tell yourself that the only reason you haven’t made the much deserved change or lost the “mojo” to continue making the progress you were is because of you. Not because of (insert family member, friend, boss, church function, random stranger on the street here) and then do something you probably haven’t done in a long time…
High five yourself.
You’re fucking amazing.
Sometimes you don’t want to let go…
Sometimes you want to hold onto an experience as if it will continue to exist in your everyday life because it was so monumental to who you are and and from the ashes in which you rise that writing about it seems to bring it to a final close and with that close a deep sadness settles in your heart. It wouldn’t be fair of me to keep this in. This is a post that has to be written even if I am reluctant to do so…
 THIS IS RAGNAR BABY!!!!
R is for Running
187 miles to be exact! And as an Ultra team none the less. Of the 307 teams that ran this crazy ass relay race only 31 teams ran as an ultra (6 or less). The other 276 teams consisted of 12 runners. Between the 6 of us that’s a shit ton of running. My portion: 31.5 freaking miles!!! You remember who is writing this blog post right? Me! Tara Martin. The girl who 15 months ago couldn’t even run 1/2 a block without puking. The girl who on used to weigh 270 pounds and play World of Warcraft for hours and hours on end put on my pretty orange tutu and stepped up to the starting line of Ragnar in Blaine WA and embarked on a journey that very few people will ever get to experience.
 (L to R) Brandon, Lindsay, Me, Sharla, Ryan and Mac
This is my team.
These are my friends.
This is T.O.P (Team Optimus Prime) and for 32 hours, 24 minutes and 41 seconds we ran our asses off non-stop. From the time the man said go (7:30 am Friday morning) until we crossed the finish line (around 4 pm Saturday afternoon) our shoes were hitting the pavement. One after the other we ran our miles. My segments?
12.7 miles
7.9 miles
10.9 miles
The best part about T.O.P was that this wasn’t a group of runners that knew each other and had practiced together; honing our skills, practicing our sprints and planning every second of every mile. No, that wouldn’t be in true Tara fashion. The only person I really knew outside of the bloggerverse was Sharla. I knew both Brandon (who I met once when he came down from Alaska a few weeks prior) and Mac personally through twitter and sharing our experiences in weight loss (trust me I loved these two guys way before I actually got to wrap my arms around them). As for those poor suckers other two: Ryan and Linsday the universe sent them our way and I couldn’t have asked for a sweeter team!
A is for Attitude
 We laughed.
We cheered.
We high fived.
I’ll also openly admit I cried my fair share of tears. Especially when I had to start my last leg at 4:30 Saturday after running 20 miles and only sleeping about 3 hours total. I could barely move was sore and pretty sure I couldn’t bust out another 10 miles. I also had my fair share of chest pounding gutteral screams of awesomeness when I needed an extra push to get my ass moving (a banana and an awesome sunrise helped).
The thing I appreciated most about T.O.P was every time we passed the slapper (baton) onto the next runner there was so much excitement I almost couldn’t wait to run again just to see the faces of my team mates… okay I’m lying about wanting to run again. But damn if I didn’t look forward to seeing their faces to at least let me know I was done running for the time being and to get a high five, a hug, and a reminder to get some food and to get some shut eye (yhea right). Seriously though, I saw some teams that were so uptight about the miles they were running and the times they were keeping that they seemed to forget why they were there. Unless I’m missing something. I mean I guess it’s important to run fast and to try to be the best. If you ask me (and I know you are asking) it was more important to see the smiles on my friends’ face yelling at me to keep moving than it was to hit a certain pace (which by the way we did manage a pretty kick ass 10:14 pace through out the entire 187 miles we traveled by foot). I didn’t get to be in the van much with the team (I drove the support car – Dusty, my bad ass Element) so I didn’t get to spend as much time down time with them so I don’t know what the conversations were like or how well everyone got along in a 9 passenger van full of food, sweat and the occasional gassy fart from running so much (oh come on you know that was happening) but every time they stepped out of that bad ass transformer vehicle my team looked like a force to be reckoned with.
G is for Great Times!
           
N is for Nature
You seriously can’t run 187 miles through the my beautiful Pacific Northwest and not see some amazing scenery. There were some parts of my run that were so difficult that if it wasn’t for what my eyes were taking it I don’t know if I could have kept my feet going. I am not lying. Look for yourself:
A is for Accomplishment
 This is me.
I just finished my last leg of 10.9 miles.
It’s hard to see but my tutu is three colors. Actually it’s three separate tutus that Meegan had made for me. One for each of my portion of Ragnar.
(Orange Tutu) I started running Friday morning. It was 12.7 miles and labeled as hard. I don’t know how Ragnar determined their labeling system but for the first time in my running life (all 15 months) I had run a half marathon without stopping and I felt fantastic…at least for a hour or two until the soreness kicked in and then I started to panic a bit. How in the world was I supposed to run 7.9 miles ten hours later and then another 10.9 miles ten hours after that?
(White Tutu) The second leg (7.9 miles) began around 4:30 Friday afternoon and it was by far the hardest portion of my legs. Funny too because Ragnar labeled it as easy. I think it was a mental block. I was tired. I was super sore from previous run and to be honest I didn’t much like this portion of the run. Okay I’m lying I loved it as much as the other portions but it was the hardest. The highlight of this 7.9 was when my team van had just passed me and I was waiting for them to get out of sight so I could walk. I didn’t want them to see me. I felt bad. I wanted to push through but just didn’t have the stamina. Just as they left my eyesight and I began to slow my stride I see a young boy standing there pointing at me from across the street. I wave and he yells “YOU KEEP RUNNING. YOU DON’T STOP OR WALK. YOU RUN DOWN THE HILL”…I love that boy. I ran the rest of the leg.
(Blue Tutu) The last leg was an amazing 10.9 miles. It started at 4:45 am Saturday morning and all I could think about was how every single step was bringing me closer to being done and being able to cheer on my team without worrying about pounding the pavement again. Ragnar labeled it as very difficult and they didn’t lie. The hills were brutal. The beauty my eyes took in made up for the nastiness of the hills. This was the most emotional part of the race for me. It was hard not to think about where I was just a short 18 months previous and how different my life had become because I decided that who I was no longer okay. There was grieving that Mitch wasn’t there to see this accomplishment and simultaneously there was pure joy in knowing Meegan was waiting for me at the finish line as she had done the previous 2 legs. I had to walk more than I wanted but when I did run, I ran like the wind. I crossed the finish of my last leg and I put on my Ragnar racing shirt and wore it like a champ. An exhausted, sweaty, stinky and sore beyond belief champ…oh and the bread was good!
R is for Relationships
Thanks guys.
It was amazing!
Popchips!
Right so remember last week I did THIS post about winning a shit ton month long suppy of popchips? Well we have some winners people! I’m took print screens of the numbers being randomly generated so lets get to the goodies shall we…
Winner #1
This is Deanna’s number and her comment:
 WAY TO GO DEANNA!
______________________________________________________
Winner #2
This is Sarah’s number and her comment:
 WAY TO GO SARAH!
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Winner #3
This is Kelly’s number and her comment:
 (lucky me, she’s local so lunch is on her!)
WAY TO GO KELLY!
Make sure you three send me your email address at alifechangingjourney (at) gmail (dot) com and I will pass your info to the appropriate people at Popchips! NOM NOM NOM!!!
 - www.healingintensives.com
I’ve been struggling.
It’s no secret that for the past few weeks (maybe even months) I’ve been struggling on this LCJ. Struggling with food, with staying in the moment, and with extreme life changes. All through out this journey I’ve been like an open book. What I feel, I post. Whatever emotion is running rampant in my life is also running rampant on this blog. The good, the bad and most definitely the ugly.
I feel like I’m at the ugly part of this journey.
It’s hard to admit that, as someone who has lost a significant amount of weight in a relatively short amount of time, life is not all that much greener on this side of the Life Changing Journey as I had hoped. I know we all think it’s going to be glorious and we’ll be free of those demons that helped us button our size 24 pants day in and day out when we finally get down to a single digit size. We think we’ll be free of the demons that loved us as we shoveled in pints of ice cream and downed 2 liters of diet coke when we can finally control our food. We think we’ll be free of those demons that whispered no one will love us when we’re labeled as morbidly obese when we finally go to the doctor’s and they proclaim us to be within a healthy weight.
I live my life as an open book because it’s important for me to be brutally honest with what’s happening to me mentally, emotionally and physically. It’s important to be brutally honest with those that choose to walk this path by my side so that they know what’s happening with me (especially if I can’t find the words to tell them). It’s important to be brutally honest with those that are just starting out on their own journey so that they can put the necessary tools in their much needed tool box to stand up, move forward and take control. It’s important for me to brutally honest with those that are no longer in the weight loss mode of their journeys but rather just living so that they know they are not alone in their struggles and that this was never going to be a game to the finish but rather be a game of nothing but extra innings that will go on as long as we’re breathing.
It sometimes feels like it’s not worth being on this journey.
Crying.
Feeling frustrated.
Having fear.
Not believing.
Wanting to give in.
Missing food as a comfort.
And then sometimes the universe slaps you in the face and says “Pay Attention”
As I struggle to find balance between my new life and letting go of my old ways of thinking I am often left feeling like I shouldn’t be motivating others to take control. How can I possibly tell you that the processed bags of shit you’re putting in your mouth don’t care about you when I find myself eating without thought and trying to find comfort in healthier types of food just like I did with calorie laden food? How can I tell you to stand up and break a sweat because your body hungers to move and become strong when I struggle to strap on my own running shoes and hit the pavement? How can I tell you to love yourself because you deserve to live the life that is waiting to be claimed when I still struggle to love the new body I’ve worked so hard for and miss the old body that gave me so much comfort?
Because the universe tells me that what I say helps.
This last week has been especially hard and I have in turn taken it out on myself. Life is about to change in ways I have yet to comprehend and in those changes comes fear of not being good enough. Comes fear of not being emotionally strong enough. Comes fear of “what if I fuck this up”. I’ve eaten foods that don’t make me feel good. I’ve zoned out while eating and gone past eating not for hunger but for comfort. I’ve allowed my mind to win the battle over the body and not taken the necessary time to move even when my muscles scream to be pushed. I’ve cried myself to sleep thinking I’m not good enough even when those around me (both in real life and in my virtual life) proclaim that not only am I good enough for them but good enough for myself.
Last night I went to bed feeling like I was a failure.
This morning I woke up and the universe had spoken.
I received an email from someone I’ve never laid eyes on. Someone up until this morning I didn’t even know existed. But this person knew who I was. This person took the time to write to me and tell me how much I inspired them to make the necessary changes in their life. I imagined when she wrote that email early this morning she might have thought she was writing to someone that probably wouldn’t think too much about her words. That wouldn’t be moved by her words to the point of tears. That wouldn’t feel undeserving of such kindness by a complete stranger…
She thought I was helping her.
She has no idea of the impact she’s had on me.
This journey is fucking hard. If someone had told me on December 29th 2009 the life I was about to begin living would often leave me curled up on a bed crying, would come with as much fear as I’ve felt over the last 19 months, would eventually lead me to leave what I had known for the previous 10 years to leap into unknown waters I would have firmly sat my 270 pound body down and refused to move.
It’s been hard.
It’s been worth every thing I am.
Everything I am becoming.
I’m not even really sure how to end this post. At the same time that I experience frustration and fear there is love and patience. At the same time I experience confusion and a desire to give up there is clarity and a need to fight. At the same time there is sadness and missing what once was there is joy and excitement over what is about to become.
This life that I am scared of living…
Is all about Life.
(Thanks Jen)
 I’ve been having a lot of challenges lately.
It seems every aspect of my life has something in it that’s slowing it down and causing me to contemplate why I’m on this journey. Don’t get me wrong, there are many things in which I’m grateful but even with those things come challenges that I face on a daily basis. I’ve learned a lot over the course of the last 19 months of this LCJ including the idea that I struggle when practicing staying in the moment and sometimes I find myself sabotaging this journey instead of assisting it.
On one of my long commutes home last week I was not feeling very good about myself. I probably started the morning by looking in the mirror and saying something negative about the what I saw. I probably continued the self sabotaging by not making the best food choices. It probably continued with small comments to myself about how my clothes were fitting or how tired I was. By the end of the day I had a long drive with just me and my negative Nancy ways and from the events of the previous hours it looked like my negative thinking was going to win this battle. As I was leaving the city I happened to look at the side of a building and saw the following billboard message:
“Every Challenge is an Opportunity”
I knew it was supposed to be one of those Ah-ha moments but I was deep in negative play land and just wrote it down knowing I would contemplate it for a while and then make it a blog post. That’s what I’m here to do today. I’m going to take this time to write about my challenges and try to find the opportunities that I’m sure are being presented…
 lincolnparks.com Challenge: I’m finding a lot of challenge in staying physically active. Not long ago I used to get up and go to the gym multiple times a week by 5a (and by multiple I mean everyday) and break a sweat like it was no one’s business. For the past few weeks it’s been a challenge to get to the gym. I feel like I’ve fallen way behind on my Great Stair Climb of 2011, I’m not enjoying exercise as much and am contemplating ending my membership to the one place that has helped me shed 80 of the 110+ pounds over the last year and a half.
Opportunity: It could be time I look for another interest. Maybe it’s time I expand my horizon and begin looking into exercising more in my natural environment rather than my man made buildings full of treadmills and free weights. Sports are what I’m interested in but I’ve yet to look into playing something. I don’t know what is stopping me (fear of not being picked or being the least talented player). Playing outside is where I should be, but being stuck inside is what I’ve been doing.
Challenge: My food is way out of whack. I wake up in the morning feeling like I’m ready to make good choices and more often than not the day ends with me having made less than stellar choices. Mindless snacking seems to have taken up permanent residency and I find my myself digging into store bought bags of chips or spoonfuls of peanut butter. I don’t have any goals in front of me that propel me forward down the road of righteous choices. Instead I just have “oh what the fuck does it matter” playing over and over in my head.
Opportunity: While my food choices have sucked there is something I’m actually proud of: I’ve stopped eating out as much. It used to be I would eat out multiple times per week (usually for lunch). Now I’m spending more time cooking meals for the week (by meals I mean I cook one big pan of something and eat it for a week) and actually finishing my food stored in my refrigerator rather than letting it spoil because I want to eat chicken teriyaki or a big ass bowl of pho. I may need to take this time to try out some new recipies.
(extra opportunity): Because I’ve been snacking more and craving foods that are not as good for me as they could be, I’ve relaxed a little about what I’m eating. Take yesterday for example I was craving chocolate. I took a walk on my break to fulfill this craving but instead of buying some cheap ass snickers bar I took the time to seek out some fancy ass chocolate. I looked them all over and finally settled in on Dagoba Organic dark chocolate. It was lavender and wild blueberry. I ate it slow and it was delicious. While I was there I saw that they were making homemade pizza and it’s been high on my list too. I opted to buy the chocolate and instead of the pizza I bought a small container of brown rice and black beans. The pizza? I bought the biggest slice I could and gave it to the nice homeless man outside…(we both got what we wanted)
Challenge: I’m not enjoying running like I used too. I know that my love for running ebbs and flows as it always has since I picked up this nasty wonderful horrible awesome habit and right now the flow of love is lacking. This is bad timing as I have Ragnar coming up so very very soon. This will be the longest I’ve run (33 miles in a 36 hour period) and right now I’m lucky if I can get out the door and run 8 miles every other (other other) day. It’s frustrating to say the least.
Opportunity: I always do better when I have a race coming up. I’m afraid of Ragnar and I know this to be the biggest reason I’m not training as hard as I should be. I’ve already resigned myself to not being successful before I even step up to the starting line. I will be running with 5 other people who will cheer me on like it’s no one’s business and at the end of the day I know I will finish what I came to do so instead of feeling like I’m going to be the weakest link, I’m focusing on the fact that so few people have the balls to do this as an ultra team (6 runners instead of 12). Not to mention my team name is Team Optimus Prime (Fuck Yhea!). It’s going to be hard but in that there will be a lot of laughing and some friendships being built that will last a life time. July 22nd I’ll be afraid. July 23rd I’ll be a Ragnar finisher.
Challenge: My weight is up slightly. By slightly I mean it’s fluctuates between 158 – 160. I am disappointed in myself even though it is a very healthy weight for me to be at. I remember how happy I was when I hit 160 and that I was at peace with that number. When I hit 150 (which was not healthy and I reached it in an unhealthy manner) I wanted to stay there knowing I didn’t feel good physically or mentally. The scale has slowly crept back up to numbers that should make me happy but to be honest, they don’t.
Opportunity: I need to take the time to remember where I was, how hard I worked to leave that lifestyle behind and that 110 pounds is nothing to fucking shake a damn stick at. It’s weird to feel disappointed in going from a 120 pounds weight loss to 110 pounds like people are going to think less of me. For fuck sake, I’ve lost 110 pounds. That’s freaking amazing. People magazine should plaster my face all over the cover of their magazine because I am the epitome of successful weight loss. No fads, no pills, no surgery…just took my life back one pound at a time. I need to spend more time looking at the parts of me that I do love (biceps, neck, calves) and spend less time focused on what I don’t like (skin skin and more skin). Instead of focusing on the number I should be slapping my own ass every time I put on my favorite pair of size 8 jeans and try to take myself to third base (bow chicka bow wow)…
Challenge: Life choices are so up in the air right now I don’t know which way to turn. New situations bring excitement and wonder. At the same time they bring frustration and fear. I feel like my emotional state is ever changing and just when I think I have a grasp on what I’m feeling, it changes and I’m off chasing another emotional break down in hopes that the damage done to myself and those affected by it is minimal and clean up on aisle 5 won’t be nearly as messy as I imagined. Work is not as available to me as I would like and that makes moving forward in my personal life that much more difficult. I want to get from point A to point Z as soon as possible (like last month would have been ideal) but right now the universe has something else in store for me.
Opportunity: What has been presented to me is amazing. There is no rush to get from point A to point Z. The path ahead of me is set forth and while the destination will be spectacular, the journey is where the true beauty lies. Some days I revel in that beauty and enjoy what is right in front of me. Other days I feel I’m a bull in a glass shop and I’m about to break everything in sight and I won’t know how to super glue all the tiny pieces back together. Luckily there is an abundance of patience (not on my part) that firmly plants me in the here and now but also understands that I tend to waiver to the left and right often.
So those are the challenges of my life right now. One thing I know for sure on this journey is life is about challenges. Some are easily tackled with a sense of accomplishment and a feeling of being able to take on the world. Others leave you feeling a little less accomplished and a little more defeated. One thing is for certain: I will continue to move forward to the best of my ability. I will wake up everyday wanting to make the necessary and needed changes to continue to live the life I deserve. I understand that not everyday / week / month is going to be stellar. Some months you’ll want to frame and display them on your most prominent wall in the house for the world to see. Others you’ll want to sweep under the rug to live with the dirty dust bunnies…
Either way I’m living.
Are you?
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