This morning when I stepped on the scale, it smiled at me and did not groan. I nicknamed my scale Henrietta a few months ago, when I was getting ready to take her on vacation. I had great plans for Henrietta and a series of pictures I had planned to take and show off: Henrietta belted in the back seat with a face mask and bottle of hand sanitizer at the ready, Henrietta with her googly eyes peering over the edge of the canvas bag, Henrietta, sitting demurely at the table in a restaurant, while I make healthy choices.
Unfortunately, our trip was cut short, and all those ideas were just missed photo-ops. Still, taking Henrietta with me on vacations is part of my plan. She helps to keep me honest and aware.
Henrietta has been my faithful companion, a foot-soldier in my weight loss campaign. This morning when I got on the scale, I thought I heard her let out a shriek of joy, though in reality it was me. This morning when I got on the scale it read 160.2 pounds. In all of my public sharing and confessional narratives, I have carefully avoided sharing that I began this journey at 200 pounds on June 1st. Not my highest ever weight, but my consistently high weight.
My weight loss journey is not over, but I think I am at a turning point. In consultation with my physician, I have reset my goal to 150, with the possibility of going just a few more pounds after that.
I am at a point, where I need to change up some of my food so I don’t get bored. I try to use variety, but I still remain a pretty picky eater. Again, I have not used any special foods, just foods I ordinarily eat, minus, of course chocolate chip cookies and chocolate candy. But I have had homemade fudge and cranberry bread and gingerbread loaf, so not doing without as much as making careful, measured choices.
In my last post I shared about meeting myself in the kitchen doorway. I did some, not all of the baking that I wanted to do in the days leading up to Christmas. I made choices about some baking gifts. I did make one batch of cranberry crunch that I shared with friends and kept a few pieces for myself. I did only what was in my heart to do. I made two batches of cookies for my husband and some Christmas sampler baskets for some friends, and wrote some sermons (a pastor’s busy time of year, you know!)
I could not have done nearly so well without the supportive community of bloggers, close personal friends and my program (still not naming it, sorry!) and my weight loss coaches. One of many things that I have learned though, is that numbers are not the only measure of success.
If you blush easily, you might skip this next bit of info! I can wrap a towel around myself after my shower and close it, no gaps!
I have two jumpers that I love that I have had for about 15 years. Pretty sure they were hand-me-downs when I got them. I haven’t been able to wear them, but I can now. One is a deep navy jumper with buttons all the way down, and the other is a simple denim jumper. Those two jumpers are the only older dresses I have kept, except for storytelling costumes. I have bought some new clothes, in slow stages, but really excited to be able to wear those jumpers again.
I seldom wear dresses for worship, because of the microphone. I have to clip the microphone battery pack to the back of the dress at the neck, which is most uncomfortable.
Two years ago I bought a new winter coat, I think it was a 2X. I could not fasten it, so walking the dog, or anywhere else, wearing layers was crucial. I can fasten the coat now.
My Mother’s Coat
My mom started sewing when she was in fourth grade and she sewed all of her life. Her last project was a coat that she had stitched together. The lining was cut out, but not stitched together. Before she was able to sew the lining, she took a turn for the worse and went down hill very fast; in six weeks she was gone. That was 1994.
I kept the coat and the lining, not knowing what I would be able to do with it. I bought myself a sewing machine for a retirement present to me, but I do not sew, not like she did. I carried that coat with me through three moves. Sometime, around 2007, I got brave. I have a very good friend who had a friend who was a seamstress. I took her the coat and lining and asked if she thought she could finish it.
Mom had stitched three layers of stitching around the sleeves, down the arms and the front panels of the coat; one row each, perhaps for Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Connie was able to do the work. The only change she made to the coat itself was to add buttonholes and buttons.
The picture above, does not do it justice. It is a pretty turquoise wool blend. When I slipped my arms into those sleeves and put the coat on when she finished, I felt like my mom had wrapped me in a big hug.
I cannot tell you what a joy it is to be able to wear that coat again.
The journey continues and once I meet my goal, the journey intensifies as I do my best to live into maintenance and more healthy changes.
Thank you for patiently joining me on the journey for all these updates.
#Stronger than the Cookie!
Not holding back the tide,
Copyright 2020 Michele Somerville, The Beach Girl Chronicles and https://msomervillesite.WordPress.com