Overcoming

It has been over 2 weeks since my last post, and I am so sorry about that. I have been struggling to find time for everything. I went through another rough patch with my journey to a better me. I had myself convinced that I could not see the changes in me. My pants size was not coming down quickly enough for me. I felt like I was weird looking and weird shaped. I began to wonder if I would be ugly if I reached my weight goal. It was a pretty bad time for me, but I got through it. I had the support of a wonderful boyfriend and a few friends that were there to set me straight. It started with a work function. I don't get to some of my co-workers very often, and I was nervous and excited. Even though I am not making all these changes to be noticed, I still wanted all my effort, time, tears, joy, and energy I have put in to reaching my goals to give me a noticable change. Only one person could really see it, but I see her more than the rest of them. I let it get to me. Even though I know my changes are noticeable... even though I said I would NOT let other's opinions (or the lack of) affect me, I allowed myself to be sad and to feel like a failure. It was a very sad week, but the voice inside my head that said that even if I didn't lose any more weight or have my pants size stay the same, I could still do more than I could before. I couldn't walk/jog a 10 minute mile before. I couldn't walk 5 miles in an hour, but I can now. I can do those things, and I'm going to keep doing them because it makes me happy and makes me feel stronger. That little voice really came through for me. I have much more to write about, but this isn't the post for all of that. I just wanted to give an update. I'm still determined. I'm still walking and pushing myself. I'm still losing weight, and if I can make it through all of my own insecurities and battles, I think you can strive for your goals and succeed. I can't give up this time. I want to see a better person when I look in the mirror. It isn't about losing weight. I want to see a loving, caring person who overcame her fears and all obstacles to reach her goal. I won't give up.

Happy Dance

I know I just posted a blog yesterday, but I had to share this.

*Squee* Over 60 pounds lost in a year and a half. :D Happy Dance!

Blazing Bright

There are some days or weeks that are harder than others to manage. Some of those days aren't even the "bad" ones. They can simply be days when I feel my passion, my enthusiasm and my will slipping away. I have found that keeping up the same level of feeling and determination that I felt in the first month, the joy that I felt after seeing my first real results, is exhausting and very hard. I find myself going through the motions and being a little careless on those days. Then, there are some days that just renew that commitment and the joy so unexpectedly. Days that are inspiring and wonderful and hard and easy all at once. I love those days.

It has been a month of complete ups and downs. I was weighing in almost everyday and watching the numbers declining without too much stand still and no going back up. Then, I stopped taking a medication without my doctor's approval, and I started to "gain" weight rapidly. My frustration got the better of me, and while I have a funny story that I think most women can relate to, I still hated how much that water weight discouraged and frustrated me. My scale, after feeling it necessary for its own survival, placed a temporary restraining order on me and spent almost 2 weeks away from my house. I spent the time getting back on the medicine I had so rashly stopped taking and trying to relearn that real progress shouldn't be measured solely on some numbers on a digital instrument of torture. I was ready to be on my best behavior, to start walking regularly again (after yet another scare with my ankle that had already been hurting), and to look for my progress in additional methods. The scale decided it shouldn't torture me as much and that it should be on its best behavior. We were reunited on Wednesday. It hasn't been terrible.

One of the main reasons I was frustrated with the rising digital numbers showing up (and simultaneously the reason I decided to play nice and fight to win back my scale's trust) is because I had a weight goal, my first really big weight goal, that I wanted to reach before my mom came to visit. I saw her last night, and even though I haven't quite reached it, I am very close to reaching my goal. I realized yesterday that it wasn't sad that I had so narrowly missed it before I got to visit with my mom. Seeing my mom after so long apart and seeing the pride in her eyes at how far I have come already... It was one of those moments when both a sense of accomplishment and a desire to keep pushing and going forward meet inside. Those moments... It's like coming to a particular bend in the path that allows you to see just how far up the mountain you have climbed and how far you still have to go. It doesn't make you groan, knowing how far you are from reaching that mountain top view. It makes your heart beat faster with excitement, and the illuminating thought, "You CAN do THIS!" explodes through your whole body. It's like adding fuel to a fire and watching it blaze brightly, ensuring the fire won't die out anytime soon. I am now less than a pound from my first big goal I have set for myself. I'm not giving up. I'm going to keep pushing forward. The past is in the past, and the future is waiting. I'm not going to let fear hold me back.

Also, I'm not going to lose sight of why I am doing this. For the first time in my life, I recognize and believe that I deserve, and firmly want, to be treated with more respect and love than I have ever given myself in the past. I want to believe that I can do anything. I want to get my head out of the cloud of possibilities and potential and start changing my perception of who I really am and what I can do. For so much of my life, I have encouraged others and believed for them, and in them, like I could not for myself. I think it's time I lead and encourage by example.

I want to thank you for reading this blog. I hope you all get as much out of it as I do. Clearing my head and writing it all down... it helps so much, and I'm glad that I get the opportunity to share it with anyone who wants to read it. I hope reading what I have to say helps because I want to help. If there is anything I can do, any topic you would like me to discuss or any specific type of encouragement you need, please let me know. I'm here, and I'm listening.

Tenacity

I struggled with what to write this week because it has been trying. I knew going without a scale would be hard because I had started weighing myself practically everyday. It has felt like I couldn't check my progress. That made me anxious... Especially because I strained my ankle when I was walking/jogging a 12 minute mile on Sunday. It was almost exactly 5 years ago that I strained the same ankle in Ultimate Frisbee. I haven't been able to take my walks because I didn't want to hinder the healing process. This has been a huge obstacle for me. I haven't been able to keep myself in check by weighing myself, so I have felt like I am blindly moving in the dark with no way to really know if I'm moving forward, sideways or backwards.

I still refused to give up even though so much of me wanted to jump ship at this point. I'm still terrified that despite how much effort and time I put into myself, I will still fail. In my life, I have lacked several virtuous traits. One is self control. Another is perseverance. 

According to Google:
Perseverance: noun steadfastness in doing something despite difficulty or delay in achieving success.

I can be a fearful person. I don't know why I believe that I will disappoint myself, but there is a part of me that almost expects me to fail. I have myself, my body, the opinions of others, and my whole life's experience before March 2014 set against me. This time, I want to persevere. I'm tired of living like this. A stronger part of me has found it's voice, and I'm standing up, saying that it doesn't matter if I "fail." It doesn't matter how many times I slip up. It doesn't matter what other people think or what I have experienced in the past. This is different. This time, if I fall, I'm getting back up. If I slip and hurt myself, I will heal and get back to it. This new part of me has been the strongest and loudest part of me for a while, but this week... This week was hard.

Since I couldn't take my walks, I have tried to cut back my calories to 1100 a day at most. I don't go hungry. I eat plenty of fresh vegetables, fruit and lean protein. I try to avoid too many carbs. I haven't been perfect, but I have been really watching what I eat. I have been trying to do as much upper body cardio as I can. Let me tell you, upper body cardio ain't no joke. It's harder than just walking, and I'm going to add upper body cardio one day a week even after I am back to walking like normal. Sunday I should be able to start taking longer, albeit gentle, walks. I think I'm going to have to rethink jogging. This makes me sad. I just don't want to hurt my ankle again.

I will say that even though some of the fiery passion for exercising, getting healthy and eating right has left me this week, I have had some awesome inspiration to keep at it. I feel like I'm in the dark, struggling to keep that small flame alive, so I can keep going, keep moving forward, no matter how slow that progress is. Still, others have come before me. The person who has inspired me so much, my muse so to speak, told me about how discouraging plateaus can be. If you aren't seeing the progress you would like, it can make your determination waver. My muse told me to keep looking for other signs of progress besides what the scale says. Are my clothes fitting like they were before? Do I have more energy? Do I have more muscle showing? These are all things that are tangible evidence of progress, but they can be easy to ignore, discount or take for granted. It really helped me take a step back and see how far I have come. I have gone down almost 3 sizes since last January, 1 1/2 sizes since March. I have more energy. I have muscle I didn't have before. I have lost inches. I might be going slower than I want. I might not be able to weigh myself and see the progress (even if it says I'm moving backwards), but I see it in other ways. After all, this truly inspiring person kept at it even through the discouragement, and they are proof that perseverance works.

Another thing that has helped me has been writing this blog. It helps me get a clear picture of where I am and what is next for me. I might not accomplish my first big goal in the time frame I wanted, but I'm not giving up. I'm going to persevere. I'm going to fight for what I want, no matter how much I feel like giving up. This is too important, and I want this more than I want to stay stuck, alone and afraid in the dark in complacency. The time is now. Hello, tenacity, one of the characteristics of fire that I have been missing. Where have you been all my life?

The Struggle

Did I ever tell you about the time that my scale broke my heart, so I tried to break its face? Oh, that's right. That was today.

Today, this whole week, actually, has been a struggle. I have been on 2 blood pressure medications for a while. I had run out of one, but the prescription was renewed just over a month ago. I started to notice that I was getting extremely lightheaded, especially when I would stand up after sitting down for a while. I started checking my blood pressure more often, and discovered it was starting to get too low because I have been exercising so much. I should have called my doctor, but I just made the decision to stop taking the 2nd medicine altogether. I didn't think about it being a diuretic (some would call it a water pill).

I stopped losing weight. In fact, I gained weight back. Not just a pound or two. Eight. Eight pounds in less than a week. I can tell that I'm retaining water because my feet, ankles and hands are pretty swollen. I know that most, if not all, of this extra weight is water weight. I realize that my clothes still fit me better, and it is awesome that my blood pressure is going down so much. One of my big goals is to get off blood pressure medication altogether. I'm on my way to that. I know all of these good things. I look at my face in the mirror, and I see it. I'm happier with myself, generally, than I have been in years, but this week has been a test and trial for me. I can't even honestly say if I'm going to make it through this week with the same amount of determination I had before because when that scale and its innocent looking blue digital numbers stabbed me in the heart with the number it gave me this morning, I didn't remember the good. I felt like a failure, like I had made no progress whatsoever. I felt the familiar feeling of being stuck in a body that seems to hate me. Feeling betrayed by an inanimate object sucks, and so I stomped on that scale until the screen went blank. Maybe a little over dramatic, but I felt it was justified.

That sucker still works, and I'm not sure how I feel about that.

My bad week isn't just about my battle for my health and a better future. It is also because I think I'm heading into my first real menstrual cycle in over a year. Plus, I felt very sick to my stomach today, and work... Work wasn't great. I haven't been getting enough sleep, and work equals stress. I am planning on a very early night tonight to help with the sleep situation. I'm very lucky that I had a heart to heart pep talk with the greatest person ever already today.

Before my pep talk, I wasn't going to write this blog. I was going to struggle and suffer all on my own, quietly in some corner of my house, rocking back and forth telling myself that I really did kill my scale, so it is going to be all okay. I'm grateful that I didn't do that. However, my scale and I both feel like we need some emotional and physical space, so it is going away for 2 weeks. I can concentrate on making those good decisions for me and my life, and it gets a nice vacation. I took an awful picture of me in my splotchy, tear stained state, and called it the best picture of me yet because I am the best me I have ever been. I allowed myself to feel loved, supported and cherished. I took a few moments to reflect on some really good advice and encouragement, and I relearned an important lesson.

If you don't struggle and fight for the good things in your life, you will never appreciate them enough. You will never know an exhilarating sense of accomplishment. I'm not saying you will be miserable or that you won't accomplish anything, but just imagine: You fight. You struggle. You fall down, get up, brush yourself off, and keep going. You obtain your goal. You refuse to take the consolation prize, and you don't give up. You overcome. That has to be worth it. I can't say that I have had many mountain tops in my life, but I know how awesome they are. That is another good reason to keep going. I am a work in progress, and the struggle is important. I will keep fighting, keep struggling and keep going until I find the way to my mountain top view. I started in a valley, and I'm struggling to find the right path that leads me to the top. I owe it to myself to find that path.

Morale of the story:

Anyone who says that losing weight is easy, that it isn't all that hard, is just selling something. Do yourself a favor and don't buy into it because any goal you set, the ultimate mountain top you want, isn't going to be easy to obtain... but it will be worth all the time, effort and especially the struggle.

The Coal that is me

I figured it was time to open up, to tell at least a little of my story. I don't want to be too long winded. I will try not to go into too much detail, but if I do, I hope you can forgive me.

I have always been fat. I don't remember a time when I wasn't chubby or overweight. I wasn't as slim as my sisters, and I couldn't ride my bike as long as they could or run without getting tired almost immediately. I had to wear women's clothing while I was still a teenager because there were very few choices for clothing in my size. You see, I had become obese. I was a late bloomer, and sometimes, I wish I had known about PCOS or even insulin resistance back then. It might have made a huge difference in my life.

I was of course teased through middle school and some of high school, but I just pushed it to the back of my mind after crying over it. I never wanted to think about my wieght or all the things that were made more difficult because I was bigger. I was also shy, awkward, naive, and depressed. There are many symptoms associated with PCOS. The ones that I showed even back then were: depression, craving sweets all the time (night and day), skin tags, an irregular menstral cycle, difficulty in losing weight (more than the average person), and my body was producing high levels of male hormones like testosterone. That meant I also suffered from being "fuzzy." I had hair on my neck and sometimes on my face that was coarse like leg hair. I had light, soft hair all over my face, especially above the lips. I hated myself and the way I looked, but I wanted others to accept me more than almost anything. I hate living inside a body that seemed to hate me. I was also likened (correctly) to a doormat for much of my life. I was over emotional even for a teenager. I would cry over spilled milk.

After high school, things didn't get better. I had real life suddenly thrust upon me, and I was not prepared. I panicked. I rebelled against myself. I moved around. A lot. Years passed, and still I moved around, never staying at the same
address for more than a year or 2 at a time. Afters 3 years in the Northwest, I headed back to my home state.

It wasn't long after that when I realized I had to make a change and lose weight. I committed myself to it. I started with exercise. I got a membership to a gym (Planet Fitness is awesome. I just wsh they had a location closer to where I am now). I wanted to accept myself as I was, the bad with the good, and strive to be better. I didn't change my eating habits for a while, but going to the gym 5 times a week was changing my body. The extra testosterone was being used up in building muscle, and I was gaining muscle but losing inches very quickly. Then, the ultimate Frisbee incident happened. I let that kill my desire to be better.

At the time I was going to the gym, I read about D-chiro-inositol, or DCI, online. It was said to have promising research and clinic trials for women with PCOS. I found a website called Chiral Balance. I saw that they seemed to sell the highest quality with the most mg per capsule, but that meant that it was also expensive. I couldn't afford to get it then, but I found out that DCI is present in some foods like buckwheat bran, the carob, soy lecithin, and legumes (such as lentils, wheatgerm and chick peas). I tried to look into eating mores of any  of this, but I panicked again, and I forgot about DCI.

I slipped into a bad depression after I fell off the band wagon and refused to get on again, I have a sedentary job. I had high blood pressure. I would get sick often. I had no energy. I would go into rages. I would be mad for no good reason without being able to think about why I was mad or at who. I would lash out at others. I lost most of my friends because the didn't understand why I was acting the way I was. The loss of friends plus the incredible amount of shame I felt bearing down on me caused my depression to get much worse, but I was also very lucky. I had the most supportive and wonderful boyfriend. He brought the love I needed into my life (and still does). I didn't slip down into a depression I could not get out of only because of that love.

Another year passed. I would care and then not care about my weight. I tried the 6 week body makeover, but I burnt out on that after 2 weeks. I got my first ever batch of DCI, and it started working for me. If you go to the Chiral Balance website, you can find out more information about the why and how it works. I just knew that my depression was lessened. I wasn't hungry all the time for snacks, and after a month, I got my menstrual cycle. I couldn't afford to get DCI. At $60 for a month's supply, it isn't cheap. It isn't a drug, so insurance won't cover it. I knew it was still worth it. I gave up on caring yet again.

More time passed, and then it was December 2012. One night, while video chatting with the world's best boyfriend, I started having stabbing, sharp pains in my chest. He rushed over and took me to the hospital. It wasn't a heart attack, but my blood pressure was so high it was causing those pains. I knew then that change needed to happen. I went back to the doctor in January 2013. I was at my all time highest weight of 360 lbs. I was disgusted with myself. I knew that I had to put in some hard work to get healthy. I started trying to eat better and be more active.

In April 2013, I got Rosey, my hyper, loveable and stubborn terrier mix puppy. She changed my life, and I started walking so much more. I kept making small changes and walking more really helped me, too. By November I has lost 30-35 lbs. I wanted more. I wanted to try and lose 20 pounds in a month and a half. My doctor told me no. I was heartbroken, but I knew that I was setting my goals a little high there anyway. This gave me an excuse... An excuse I am sad to say that I used to give up caring for the next 3 months.I was back to gaining back the weight.

After not believing I could succeed losing weight for so long, something changed in March. I caught a spark. Someone inspired me with their story and their results. This person didn't follow a fad diet. This person accomplished a lot just in a year on their own. A spark, born of some strange match being lit in that corner of my minds, found its way into my heart. I was challenged by the same person who inspired me with their story. I found my motivation and determination, more than any I had ever had. I knew it was time.

I started with exercise and trying to get in as much walking at I could. Then, I cut my calories down to between 1100 and 1500 calories a day except for my cheat day. I started tracking my calories and my exercise. I joined in a game on a website that has really helped me. I walked a 5k. This time, I'm not giving up and giving in. I'm buying the DCI even if it is expensive because there is not really a price tag on my good health. I am down 25 lbs from where I was in March, and I weigh less than I have since I was going to the gym. I'm trying to push myself hard and accomplish my goals. I try to push a little harder ever day.

So now you know a little more about me. If I can do this, you can too! You just need to find what works for you. It won't be an easy road. It won't be a quick fix, but if you really want to change, you can do it. It is totally worth it. Find your spark. Even if you don't want to or need to lose weight. Find your spark, the thing that speaks to you, inspires you or breathes new life into you. Find that, set your goals, work hard and reach for the stars.

Our Evolution

Obesity. It is a 1st world problem, and it sucks.

If I had been born in a 3rd world country, I would actually have a better chance for survival than other females. This is due to PCOS and my insulin resistance. Being insulin resistant, having pre-diabetes, or having type 2 diabetes, means that one's body has trouble with the glucose and insulin process. Food is taken into the bloodstream as sugar, such as glucose. In a normal person, insulin is then released by the pancreas to help take the glucose into the body's cells for energy. In a person who is insulin resistant, something goes amiss. I like to think of the glucose as friends (who are the life of the party) waiting to be picked up by the insulin and escorted to the party of the hour. The insulin has been given a key or a password to get in, but when they get to the door of the cell, the key doesn't fit or they have been given the wrong password. At this point, there is much confusion. The insulin resistant body recognizes that no one is getting into the party, and the body desperately needs the glucose being introduced into the cells. The body reacts the only way that makes sense (at least, it make sense to me). It overreacts. The pancreas releases even more insulin into the body. Some insulin will have the right key or the correct password, or they will just bust down the door to get into the party. It is almost like having an allergic reaction to the glucose insulin process.

Being insulin resistant is hard on a body, but if I lived in 3rd world country, it is speculated that I would have a better chance for survival because another job that insulin has? Increased lipid synthesis. Insulin forces fat cells to take in blood lipids, which are converted to triglycerides. It has a hand in fat storage. That means that, hypothetically, I could survive longer without food because the over production of insulin in my body creates more triglycerides. In a 1st world country, this means my risk for heart disease is greatly increased.

I speculate that one of the reasons our nation is suffering from obesity is because, in a surprisingly short amount of time, the majority of our job force went from very physical and labor intensive work to easier and more sedentary jobs. We have advanced. Our technology is on the level, or surpassing the level, of what speculative fiction was 60 years ago. Our parents and our parents' parents wanted better lives for their children. They worked hard to ensure that we would have those easier lives, but we became a little ignorant in our advancement, our evolution.

When our grandparents went to work on a farm or in a factory, they needed the kind of meals that had enough calories to replace what they used every day. They needed cheaper food that they could stretch as long as possible because times were hard. Having a 1000 calorie dessert wasn't bad for them because of all of the calories they had spent working.

Even one of my grandmothers... She has worked in the food business for over 40 years. She is a hard worker, and slaving away in a hot, industrial kitchen to create wonderful food that tastes the same every day causes you to burn a lot of calories. She grew up on a farm, and she has always looked for a good deal on food that would stretch because she remembers hard times. As time passed, she was moved from the kitchen to catering and then to cashier. She had to be on her feet all day, but even that was less physically exhausting than making breads and pies and whatever else there was to make. She didn't change what she ate or how she ate. She didn't increase physical activity, and guess what? She was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes.

Being a "rich" country, with convenience being akin to a God given right, has spoiled us and almost ruined us. Now, I'm not a political person really. I'm not going to talk about the state of our country in this blog, but I am talking about slowly killing ourselves by not seeing this trend sooner, by being ignorant of (or kept in the dark about) what we needed to do to stop this before it became a killer problem. We need, and have needed for a long time, to take a good look at what we consume versus how we spend everyday because that food pyramid we were taught in school? Those daily recommended calories? It is bullshit. I'm sorry, but I can't find a better word for it... well, maybe malarkey. 6 servings of grains and bread? What? No. I don't think anyone except for the people who are extremely fit AND have a daily regiment of intensive physical activity need even close to that amount of carbohydrates in their diet. Speaking of fit people...

There is a chasm, a rift, in our society that I would like to further explore and research. On one side, you have the fit citizens, the ones that figured it out and keep active while eating healthy foods. They love talking about what works to keep them at their peak performance levels. Then, there is the rest of us. There are people who don't care about being fit or losing weight. There are those that struggle so much that they risk surgery to save themselves (1 out of 100 people die after gastric bypass... granted that might be skewed a little because of the {beyond} morbidly obese patience whose risk of death is much higher still attempting it because it is a last resort for them). There are people like me, obese and trying to fix a lifelong problem. We don't talk much about it on a daily basis. There are too many other things that are more important. Daily life is stressful, but we are taught to be grateful for the bounty we have been handed. There are so many companies out there with fad diets or diet pills "guaranteed" to make you lose weight. There are so many lies out there, so it isn't surprising that there are so many of us who feel hopeless and out of control. We go to research on eating healthier, but we don't take into consideration the source of our internet education. There are so many diet plans and programs that make you pay money for the opportunity to lose weight with them. It's a confusing jumble of jargon, empty promises and hiding the truth.

Because I have found the truth. You are not a lost cause. Your health matters. You are not hopeless, and you can lose the weight. BUT! There are no easy ways out. You have to work at it. It doesn't happen overnight. You have to find that motivation, determination and self love to get you to make the decision to change your life. Then, you have to start making the changes. You have to set realistic goals and put in the time and effort to reach them. You can do it. I'm doing it, and I never thought I could be this determined or see the kind of results I am seeing. You can do it. I believe in you. I believe in every person reading this blog. We are human. We are not perfect, but our free will is an amazing thing. Use your free will to decide to care for yourself. That is one decision you won't ever regret.

The Spark

Truth be told: this is one of the scariest projects I have ever started. I'm opening myself up to judgement, encouragement, laughter, life, and possibly more attention than I could ever want. I think it is important for me, and I would be thrilled if my story, my journey, inspires even just one other person. You see, I have been a fat girl for as long as I can remember. Even though I have not been officially diagnosed, my doctor and I are both sure that I have PCOS. This makes losing weight much more difficult for me than for an average person. I wish I had known about this disorder when I was younger, but that is in the past. I can only go forward. I have let my body define who I am for over 2 decades, and it is time, beyond time, for a change.

I have tried to lose weight in the past, and I would do well for a while. Something would always happen to derail me, though. I wasn't eating enough calories to make it through my days, so I would have no energy. I would end up splurging and killing any progress I made. I had a gym membership for awhile. I went 5 to 6 times a week until I sprained my ankle in a game of Ultimate Frisbee (now my most hated sport). The holidays would sneak up, and I would excuse myself for overeating. I was doing quite well a year ago. I had just gotten my dog, and I wasn't letting anything get in the way of my walking. I was determined, but I got over ambitious. My doctor told me that I was unrealistic in my goals. It hurt me, and it damaged my determination a great deal. I let myself stop caring. Something changed for me at the beginning of this year, though. I was inspired by someone else who had lost a lot of weight in just a year's time. By March, I was ready to commit to changing my life.

March 5th, I started tracking my walking, my calories and my weight. It wasn't consistent at first, but it started me on the right path. I pushed myself because I was challenged by the person who was inspiring me. It was a good challenge, though. I was reminded that my weight, my body, is something I can change if I really want it. That was THE moment: The Spark I needed. I searched my mind and heart and found I really wanted it. I owe it to myself to take care of me and to be happy with who I am.

I cut down my calorie intake. I started walking almost daily, and I found ways to motivate and inspire myself. I set obtainable goals for myself, and I'm seeing the progress. There are several things that have helped me, and I will talk about those in future blogs. I just want to say that it is an awesome feeling knowing that I have lost over 20 pounds since March 5th. I have lost over 40 since January 2013, and I'm going to keep going. This was my long winded way of introducing myself and my new blog. The next one will be full of some good information, my opinions on what's out there and what works, and maybe some inspiration and encouragement. I hope to update this blog at least weekly, and maybe someone will find hope and determination again.