A Milestone, A Memory, And A Victory Redux–CI#94 (with video)

Here it is 25 July, the day I started Carb Cycling, the day that changed my life, the day I found my biggest key to healthy, sustainable weight loss.  What a year it has been!  From doing the work to decide to have weight loss surgery, to the work it was to take a step back on the advice of current weight loss surgery and thyroid patients,  to all of that being the reason I found Carb Cycling in the first place.

I have to be honest here.  I had heard of Chris Powell before and decided I wasn’t going to be a fan.  When the show Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition debuted I rolled my eyes at the notion of some other celebrity trainer setting normal folks up for unrealistic expectations.  I made that assumption without ever bothering to watch the show, of course.  Now that I know Chris and what he does and why and how he does it, I know he’s an absolute genius.

In less than a year, I went from that perspective to auditioning for a chance to work with Chris on the show.  That was work too.  Lots of tears, lots of shaking, lots of whiny conversations with my husband all while giving this Carb Cycling thing a go.

I was not considered for the show.

And that was work too.  A few tears and some shaking and still lots of whining–hey, I was disappointed.  Not only did I want to be on the show for me but for Chris–by all accounts he’s never had the challenge of a multiple chronic illness babe–and for all of you including the hundreds of my chronic brothers and sisters who do not know me and who go to his page asking for help.  I wanted to help Chris know how we’re different but still worthy.  It wasn’t to be and that’s okay because I know that is where my mission lies.  My journey, this journey is not just about me but it is about you too because when I am done I want you to know there is no chronic disease strong enough to stop you when you really dig deep and figure out what YOUR body needs.

In my celebration of this day and the previous 364, I decided to pull out the white jeans I wore on the day I had to fire my divorce attorney in open court while he was on the phone an entire state away and with my $1,000 retainer so I could agree to represent myself in my divorce proceedings and they fit.

Today for the first time in over five years (yes, I know the video says five but it’s really been longer than the more I think about it).  Near as I can tell it’s been at least six years since my divorce was seven years ago and my fibromyalgia hit me five years ago and I know I couldn’t wear them then.


Back up.

“You represented yourself?,” you ask.


Kicked the other attorney in the ass too to the point the poor judge just kept staring at me like, “Who are you woman?”

It was one of my finest moments of badassery.

My then husband was already whoring around with his cousin (they’re now married) and refusing to step up to his kids and to me.  In the two years, I waited for that court date to arrive, I had precisely nothing better to do with my time than read Utah divorce code.  I knew it like the back of my hand so when the judge asked if I was willing to proceed without counsel my yes echoed so loudly in the quiet courtroom it startled everyone, even myself.

And, I also prayed a mighty prayer, “Dear God, please be with me…please allow me to know what the other attorney is going to say so I might have a few moments to collect myself before needing to respond.”

It was answered with perfection.

I was able to read his thoughts, collect myself, and respond with fierceness, even citing code a time or two.

I won every single outstanding issue and that smug little pipsqueak, okay both of them–my ex, his legal turkey–just stood there as white as my pants with their eyes bugged out.

Me and God and these white pants.

The linen blouse with the huge pink roses is still waiting for my core and bat wings to whittle down just a bit more before it fits too.

When fibro happened and the weight piled on so impossibly fast and when I found myself trapped in a body that was never going to be able to move the way I was used to moving it–sending 100-pound stacks of weights flying–I thought I would never be able to wear these pants again.  I almost gave them away.  The bad ass in me said, “No, you need to remember these.”

Then when fibro happened, I turned to one of the things I do best: reading.  I read all about moving bodies and how joints and muscles work.  I paid attention to Dr. Mark Pelligrino’s suggestion that body mechanics–fibronomics–are crucial to successful management of fibromyalgia.  I read about metabolism and health and fitness.  When I was done reading, I moved.

Yes, it hurt.

A lot.

At first.

But as I paid attention to all I read and learned I noticed ways to move my new fibro body better so fibro was not so much of an issue.  I started with a goal to move five minutes a day and for the whole first year I could not manage it more than three days in a row.

That was over three years ago.

Today, with the right amount of preparation and recovery I can do whatever I want.  Yes, sometimes fibro bites me for it because that is just part and parcel of the disease and not a big enough excuse for me to think I can’t move in whatever way I choose.  Sometimes, the bite is like a new puppy and sometimes a Great White Shark and sometimes I do not know beforehand which it will be but I move anyway because fibromyalgia is not a “get out of moving free” card for the rest of my life.  In fact, I know without a shadow of a doubt fibromyalgia is gives me more reasons to move than any 100 normal people I know.

Then about 18 months ago, I decided my weight was next.

I have known about my thyroid disease for over 20 years and confirmed Hashimoto’s Disease almost three years ago (suspected it for at least 15) so I read about that and when I was done reading I went to work.

I failed miserably and that is what lead me to decide to undergo a vertical sleeve gastrectomy only to change my mind and arrive here today…wearing these bad ass white jeans…the ones I just slide off without unbuttoning or zipping…what the hell is that about…a month ago I couldn’t zip them and I’ve only this week lost a single pound since the last time I tried them.


In case you missed it, the reason why I am succeeding now is I am actively reaching to my past, to my pre-fibro, pre-chronic babe life and pulling on every single shred of success I have ever known and duplicating the method I used to get what I wanted and applying it to fibromyalgia and my thyroid and tweaking it until I make it work with the new set of rules my body lives by.

The rules of weight loss are solid but they are not so inflexible that our stiff, chronic bodies cannot reach them.

There is a way.

It is work.

There is success…sometimes in the form of white jeans….and 31 pounds down in my first year (and when I have never, not once, not ever lost 31 pounds in a single year you better believe I’m sashshaying in these jeans and my memories of a different victory.

The bad ass…she lives…no THRIVES.


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