Tag Archive | weight loss

Caution: The Ground is Closer Than You Think

Such a beautiful weekend!  Why not take advantage of the weather and put those Rollerblades to use for the first time?  Well, the first time outside and in front of someone other than my husband.

Cody used to use his in-line skates to get everywhere.  He didn’t have a bike, so he skated here and skated there.  He’s good.  Me, not so much.  

When I was growing up, I had a bike that I adored.  I would bike most places.. until I was 12 and was in a horrid accident where I was hit by a 4×4 truck going a little too fast (it was still my fault:  I came out of a one way lane way without stopping.  I, in no way blame the driver, I’m well aware that I was the one at fault).  Thankfully, I had a helmet on, but it was still pretty bad.  Road rash on the face, broken arm in 3 places, concussion.  It was terrible and when they removed my helmet at the hospital, it came off in two pieces.  After that, it took me quite a long time to get back on a bike.  And even to this day, I will not ride a bike on the road.  Trails:  good.  Roads with cars:  didn’t work out so good the last time.  I am sure that my exercising slowed down around that time and I started to put weight on.  I might have still been a chunky girl, but I think it may have happened a little later in life if I wasn’t so terrified to get on a bike or even of crossing the street for fear of being hit again.  

Besides the point.

I trusted Cody to teach me the ins and outs of Rollerblading.  I had visions of picking up the sport with ease.  We were going by the water and my apparent fantasy was that Cody and I would be holding hands while we chatted and laughed while whirling by people on the trails.  I’d look cute in my capris and favorite skull shirt, my hair in a “casual” ponytail.  Cody – he’s always looking good, so I didn’t really focus too much on what he looked like in my fantasy.

So we went to the trail.  Everything seemed pretty flat – no bumps, pot holes, or rocks.  Cool.  I sat down, strapped on the Rollerblades and started to skate.  Hmmm – a little more awkward than I thought, but not too bad.  I went a little further, Cody skated ahead a bit and then BAM.  I was on my ass.  Actually, on my knee to be more accurate.  

As I was falling – things slowed down.  I thought “Oh shit.  I’ve literally been on these things for 3 minutes.”.  I then acknowledged that there was an older couple walking on the trail towards us.  Then I was on the ground.  Nothing was hurting, but I wanted to cry because my ego was bruised  but I laughed instead.  Cody poured some water on the wounds (yes, plural) and the couple reached us and asked if I needed help up (do I really look that chunky?  I am able to lift myself from a sitting position without assistance, thank you.).  I wasn’t bleeding, so I just got up and continued on.  

My dreams were dashed.  I know it wasn’t a graceful fall.  My capris had blood on them.  I don’t exercise… ever… and I was sweating within 20 minutes of being on the skates.  We stopped so I could use the bathroom*, and I noticed that my ponytail wasn’t looking so good – I had flyaway’s all over the place.  My makeup was good though.  Cody, however, looked fantastic.  He fell right back into his old skating ways.  He was so comfortable and at ease, and that, my friends is sexy.  And he took care of me – what girl doesn’t like that?

I continued on.  We skated for a while and went much further than I thought we would.  I did have fun, too.  My scrapes are a little worse than I originally thought, but I think I’ll make it.  My only regret:  I knew I should have bought the knee pads.


I’m getting a lot of sympathy from Cody… and every person I pass on the street.

“Perseverance is falling 19 times and succeeding the 20th.” — Julie Andrews

I sincerely hope that it doesn’t take me that long to learn to use these bad boys.  I would like to wear a dress at some point this summer without having to explain how I got so banged up.


Have fun, friends.




* After using the “facilities” by the lake, I understand why some people might opt to piss in the lake.  The toilet paper was on the floor.  No, not some jackass being a jackass and unravelling or leaving pieces on the floor… The roll of the toilet paper was on the floor, and that’s where it was for you to obtain your portion from.  Also, there were no locks on the door.  So, while hovering, I had to hold the door closed and attempt at not missing the pot.  Almost as painful as my injury.

Oh, Hi There!

I’m still here!

I’m still trying to lose weight!  In fact, I’ve purchased some Rollerblades to help get me more active.  I actually never liked going for walks, for some reason.  I can walk somewhere if there is a destination in mind or if I’m lacking a car.  But a leisurely stroll?  No thanks.   Add wheels:  this could be fun!

I’m probably going to fall on my ass.  Maybe hurt my wrist.  I’m a 29 year old woman trying to learn how to skate… again.  It’s going to be ridiculous.  And I’m so looking forward to it!

Normally, I’d put a cute or inspiring little quote here, but finding something pertaining to exercise and fun was hard.  It was all Katy Perry quotes, and I just refuse to add that to my blog.

Be happy, healthy, and safe, friends.



Too Big or Too Small

The worst thing about losing weight is no longer fitting in your clothes.  I know, I know.  You’re probably thinking I’m insane.  So many people are pumped to have their jeans no longer staying on without the assistance of a belt.  For me – I hate it.  I can’t stand the look of baggy pants on myself.  I’m already a chunky girl so when my clothes don’t fit right, I look even chunkier.

I came about this revelation today while standing in front of the mirror brushing my teeth.  I’d done a fantastic job on my make-up, my nails looked good, and my hair… well, it was a fabulous day for my usually untameable curls.  I’d decided to wear my favourite jeans and a grey sweatshirt.  I stood there for a while trying to figure out what was off and it was then that I realized that my sweater was hanging off of me in a weird way.  I don’t normally wear super tight shirts or anything, but you can usually see a little of my fairly proportionate figure.  Today, this shirt makes me look lumpy.  And my jeans.  Oh, I love these jeans!  The waist is no longer fitting quite right – but I can work with that.  It’s the thighs.  You can’t fit another person into my pants or anything, but they are pretty baggy.  In the end, my outfit cancelled out my exceptionally good hair day by causing me to look like I was going to paint in my most worn-out, comfortable clothes.

All of that ranting aside, there’s other reasons why I hate when my clothes start to get too big.  I’m not particularly fond of clothes shopping… I find it to be so friggen tedious.  I would just waltz in to Wal-Mart, buy some jeans and a few shirts and be on my way, but it is never that easy.  If Cody (stupidly) agrees to go with me, we usually end up in an argument of some sort.  I get so annoyed with stores like Wal-Mart because there’s no organization what-so-ever.  Also, their “plus-size” selection leaves something to be desired, to put it nicely.  I mean, really – why do overweight women HAVE to wear floral print???  No one wants that!  The price is usually right, but it’s not worth my sanity.  So a few years ago, I opted to start shopping at Reitmans and Addition-Elle.  When I walk in, I know there is going to be something that I like; something that won’t make me feel like I’m going to attract every bumblebee within a 15 block radius.  And the staff are so helpful.  There are just some things you’re not going to find at Wal-Mart.  With this luxury, though, comes a pretty hefty price tag.  This is why I curb my “desire” to clothes shop to a few times a year.

There’s one final reason why I hate the weight loss/clothes dilemma.  I don’t fit in anything – old or new!  I’m in one of those “between” stages.  I’m not a large, but a medium is a little squishy.  Size 14 is too big, but a 12 gives me a muffin top.  It’s a pain in the ass!  The only thing that fits are socks and that’s because I buy them in size that’ll fit 4-10 shoes.  Something pretty bad would have to happen in order for those not to fit.

Also, why should I go and buy a whole bunch of new clothes, some that might not even really fit all that well, when they’re not going to fit in a few more months anyway when I’ve lost even more weight?

I think I’ll skip the whole shopping thing for now.  I’d prefer to sport some baggy clothes since it might appear that I’m losing weight rather than squeeze into a size too small because I’ll eventually fit into it.

Besides, I can still hold off since I have these killer might-as-well-be-new jeans sitting in my closet that I’ve never worn cause they were too small when I bought them (I don’t know why… I think I thought I knew my size, but they were made differently so they didn’t fit right… I don’t know.  Whatever).  They button up now – so it’s just a short while longer till they don’t look painted on.  I just hope I can enjoy them for more than 2 months.  

“I don’t like shopping and I like my clothes to be comfortable.”  – Norah Jones

You and me both, honey.



After a Brief Intermission


It’s been a while.  I know.  And I’m sorry.

I have been all too consumed with my fertility issues.  I’m not going to dwell on that or even get into it much further.  If you’re interested, though, please feel free to check out my other blog, “Baby Brain… Sans Baby”.

Anyway, I had my follow up appointment with Dr. Poon after what felt like 6 months on the diet, when it was really only 2 weeks.  And here’s the results:  13.5 lbs lost!!! I knew I’d done well, I knew I’d lost a significant amount.  To hear that it was this much, though, was amazing.  I am very proud of myself.  Not only that, but I also didn’t feel like I’d suffered for nothing. All of the days spent longing for cheezies while I cried and laughed 35.7 seconds between each other:  not a waste.

My doctor was happy with me.  Cody was happy for me.  I was over the moon. 

In addition to this weighloss, I’ve removed one of my diabetes medications (the Diamicron).  I’m one step further from needing insulin, in my opinion.  My doctors too, I’ll bet.

Since my appointment, I’ve fallen off a little bit.  Cody and I moved (finally) and it’s extremly difficult to try and stay “on track” when your food is packed up, your dishes are in a box, and you’re stressed with a thousand little things.  I did well, for the most part.  I admit, there were some nights when Cody and I went our to eat and it was very easy for me to order a burger with fries.  That being said, I’ve made mostly good food choices and I haven’t gained a pound.

It’s been a challenge trying to get used to living with a roommate.  The kitchen is often being used by him and/or his girlfriend, which makes it harder to cook.  More like awkward, actually.  I think I’ve found a solution though – I plan to cook our meals during the day and then reheating them when Cody comes home.  Sundays will also be dedicated to coming up with a meal plan, doing groceries, and cooking up what we can.  Mini-crisis averted.

I have a whole lot of other mundane things that have been happening.  Not many of them related to my diabetes.

“Make your life a mission – not an intermission.” – Arnold H. Glasgow



Old Failures, New Starts


First, I want to apologize to anyone that was following the blog, whether it was with a passing curiosity, in an effort to get some kind of support, or if it was a way to lend some support.  If I’ve also failed you in some way, I am truly sorry.  I am going to try and write again regularly (not making a promise or “goal” to do this as often as I thought I would last year!), and I hope that we can be friends again.

In my last post I was so proud of myself for managing to take all of my medication on time for a week.

Over a year later, here I am.

I failed at keeping my blog up to date.  I failed at continuing to take my medication regularly.  I failed at getting off of my medications – in fact, I had a whole big switch in medications.  I failed at 90% of the goals I’d set for myself last year.

And here I am, jumping back on the “horse”, ready to give it another go.  I don’t want to focus on my failures over the year – I’d rather report the things I’ve succeeded in doing and the accomplishments I’ve made.

Last year:  I lost SIXTEEN (yes, 16) inches over my entire body – almost 6 of those on my waistline alone.

I made and KEPT my appointments at a well-known Diabetes Management Center here in the GTA.  I met often with an endocrinologist who did an overhaul on my medication.  Unfortunately, this meant that I needed to be put on another medication since the Metformin was not controlling things on its own. I was placed on the maximum dosage of Diamicron MR with the possibility of needing a night-time insulin as well since my fasting sugars are always too high.  I took this change well, for the most part.  I added the medication in, took it as I was supposed to and ate better.  3 months later, I went for blood work and it came back perfect.  Not only that – I didn’t need to add an insulin in my medication line up.  I still need the Diamicron, but if it means my sugars are in control right now, then I’ll deal with it.

After the last time I met with my endocrinologist, I was faced with some completely different medical issues.  I’ll be adding some entries separately about those, sort of like their own blog – but to make a long story slightly less long, I’ve again come to the conclusion that I need to lose weight.

I know what you’re thinking – what’s really different this time than last time (or the 50 times before this entry)?  Well, there’s the superficial reasons:  I want to look better.  I want smaller jeans.  There’s the medical reasons:  Maximum dosages of medications is not OK.  My toes have been tingly – a sign of neuropathy, common in diabetics.  There’s the financial reasons:  We can’t keep paying for so many different medications.  There’s the emotional reasons:  I don’t want to end up like so many of my family members, dying from complications related to diabetes.  I want a baby.  And then there’s the reason that has the most impact:  It’s just not OK anymore, something HAS to be done.  I’m killing myself slowly.

Here’s the thing…  I used to lie to myself and make excuses.  I’d tell you, my husband, my family, and my doctors anything to make it look like it was out of my control.  That I was already doing all I could to control the diabetes.  But the truth is that I wasn’t – I didn’t lose all of the weight I should have… yes, I lost a significant amount – but there were times I’d work out hard at the gym and leave and go and get McDonald’s for dinner.  I didn’t eat the things I should have, I didn’t always take my medications, I cancelled doctor’s appointments.  Oh, the list goes on.  The point here is that not only am I taking things into my own hands again, but I’m actually taking full responsibility for where I am – for the first time in my life.

“The willingness to accept responsibility for one’s own life is the source from which self-respect springs.” —  Joan Didion

No more excuses.  No more blames.  All I am asking of you, reader, is to give me a second chance.

Stepping back in the ring,