The Scale - Friend or Foe?

The main thing that prospective WLS (weight loss surgery) candidates ask is if we have any regrets with our decision to have WLS.  For most, the answer is a resounding "no", and almost everyone says they wish they had not waited so long to have the surgery.  This is now my answer too, but it took a little longer for me to come around.  I always try to tell the positives and negatives to people thinking about surgery.   For me, the negative, other than the considerable pain and preparation involved, was coming to terms with my decision the first few months after surgery.  Here I was, still fat, and unable to eat hardly anything.  Granted, this is what I signed up for.  Mentally I knew that - but emotionally, it took its toll.  

I was moody, though I think I hid it pretty well.  At least, I hope I didn't let it change the way I interacted with my friends or clients.  It certainly wasn't their fault.  But anyway, the one thing that I did have in my favor was that for once in my life, the scale was moving in the right direction, and not reversing.  Six weeks after surgery, I passed the lowest weight I had ever gotten to...

*this seriously just arrived at my work - CiCi's is promoting their kids' programs and brought in free 

 goodies - further proof that food addiction is hardest to overcome, hands down*

..."on my own", and the weight kept falling off each week thereafter.  Sometimes I'd lose 1-2lbs in a week, sometimes I'd stall and lose nothing, followed by a 3-5lb loss the next week.  The consistency was good, and I was happy with my progress, but each week I found myself more and more nervous to step on the damn thing.  What if this was the week that I stopped losing, or God forbid started to gain?  I wasn't sure how I would handle it.  Which leads me to the point of this post.

Friday's are my "official" weigh-in day - the day where I record the number.  I used to be very good about only weighing only once a week, and still profess that this is the best gauge of accuracy, not to mention the roller coaster ups and downs on the scale throughout the week is enough to drive one insane.  I've had many weeks where I didn't think I'd pull a good number, and was pleasantly surprised.  Sometimes the reverse happened, but it usually was still ok, just not what I had hoped for.  

So, against my better judgement, I hopped on the scale today.  Factoring in a 12 mile walk / run on Saturday and eight mile (thank you Eminem) walk on Sunday, I expected a good number.  I actually had a figure in mind.  Can you guess where this is headed?  

+3lbs.  

WTF?

It was one of those where I actually stepped on again, like the scale was going to magically adjust or say "just kidding" with a tongue sticking out of it's evil digital readout.  

I know in my head I haven't actually put on three pounds of fat.  My BMR (basal metabolic rate) is about 2100 calories per day - meaning that I have to consume that amount and do absolutely nothing to sustain that weight.  In order to put on three pounds in five days, I would be consuming 2000 calories per day over my BMR, so 4100 calories each of the last five days, assuming I didn't move a muscle.  

That didn't happen.  I'm not great about recording my intake, but I know that did not happen.  It doesn't even factor in the exercise over that time span, which was considerable.  So I know that number is not actually fat gain, and will probably go away in a day or two. 

So why does it still bother me so much?  

Whenever someone in my local or online support group talks about a weight gain, I reassure them that it's probably water weight or muscle gain, something the average scale can't account for.  And it's not like I'm blowing smoke; I actually believe the encouragement I'm giving.  

So why do I not allow myself the same courtesy?  Why don't I believe my own advice?  

Everyone who's been on the diet roller coaster knows the feeling of putting your all into it, not getting that immediate gratification, and quitting.  I've been there.  

I'm not quitting.  Fortunately, that isn't even an option anymore the way it was before.  I hated that at first, but now I've come to love it, and am worried I rely too much on my restriction vs putting the right foods into my body.  I can definitely consume more now than I could six months ago, and I worry that I won't have it in me to change some of the bad habits I've gotten into if and when the scale does start trending the opposite direction.    

This is where my irrational fear of putting three pounds on in five days comes from.  I'm doing some things very well, but I can improve on others.  Time to refocus.

Prior to surgery, I wouldn't have cared if I had put on 3lbs.  In the scheme of being nearly 200lbs overweight, who cares about three more?  In some ways, life was easier before surgery.  

But certainly not better.    

Introductory post

As 2013 came to a close, I had optimistic visions of starting a blog and updating it daily throughout 2014.  I wanted to write a reminder everyday - both for myself, and for others either going through or starting their own journey - of why I made the most important decision of my life.  Considering it's now February 14th, I think it's safe to say that while the intentions were good, life just sometimes gets in the way.

And therein lies the problem.

For me, life got in the way for 33yrs - unhealthy eating habits, sedentary lifestyle, comfortableness in my self-dug rut.  In fairness, though, I've never known any different.  The last time I was an average weight for my age, I hadn't yet started kindergarten.  My weight problem wasn't something that started in adulthood.  I was never the college athlete who put on pounds after the sports ended.  I don't have memories of what it is like not to be heavy.  I've never known it any other way.  So, a lot of what I write now are things I've never experienced, and I don't want to take them for granted.

It wasn't until well into my 20s that I first seriously attempted to lose some weight.  I bought a treadmill and used it regularly.  I'm not sure exactly where I started weight wise (I refused to get on the scale for a long while), but I believe in about a 9mo span I dropped about 50lbs.  I more or less maintained this weight until 2008, when I reached my highest recorded weight of 375lbs.  I say recorded, because I'm pretty sure a few years earlier I was heavier, perhaps over 400.  Not that this high a weight looks great on anyone (with the exception of Robert Wadlow), but I don't have a particularly large or muscular frame.  Body fat percentage wise, it was bad.

I tootled along at this weight for about a year, and then in 2010 decided to get serious again.  My starting weight was 369lbs, and I lost about 45lbs over the year and maintained that for another year.  Throughout most of 2012, I stopped trying again and put on most of what I had lost.  I got back motivation for a little bit when my school year started in September, lost 25lbs or so, but regained most of it during the holidays.

And then, when 2013 hit, I realized I didn't care anymore.

I didn't have that usually New Year's drive - this was going to be the year, blah blah blah.  What was the point?  I'd been through this song and dance before.  Lose, gain, rinse, repeat.  I was tired of it.  At 360lbs, I just didn't have the motivation any longer to maybe lose 30lbs, and soon thereafter my drive.

Along with the motivation loss came something else.  The exercise that I had been doing for years was getting harder.  The one good habit I formed when I first attempted to lose weight was consistent exercise.  I had made a little progress at the beginning, and leveled off several years doing same intensity, be it on the treadmill or elliptical.  That same intensity was getting harder, and I found myself having to stop halfway through, or lowering what I had been doing for years.  The roller coaster of weight loss and weight gain had taken its toll, and I was more out of shape than ever.

I had high blood pressure and high cholesterol.  My knees hurt going up stairs, not to mention I was winded after one flight.  I suffer from gout and psoriatic arthritis, and these were getting worse.  I couldn't stand for more than a few minutes at a time.  At age 33, I felt like I was falling apart.  And yet I didn't care anymore.  I saw 400lbs in my future, easily.  And what then?  I didn't see it stopping there.  At the rate I was going, I didn't see making it to age 40.

And that scared the shit out of me.

I woke up in a panic one day last January.  I attending a weight loss surgery seminar, scheduled an appointment with the doctor that same week, and had a vertical sleeve gastrectomy operation on March 7th, 2013.  85% of my stomach was removed, including the portion that produces most of the hormone ghrelin, which causes the feeling of hunger.

Nearly a year has passed since my procedure, and it's been a roller coaster year, but for once, not the weight kind I was so used to.  I've had emotional highs and lows.  I've made friends through area weight loss support groups, and many of us engage in healthy activities on the weekends, something I never would have thought possible, or even desirable before.  As I get smaller, I struggle with who I am, shedding an identity that I've always had.

I currently weigh 222lbs, over 150lbs down from my highest weight.

This is a journal to celebrate all that I have achieved, and express the challenges I am still going through.  I am not done with my journey; we never are really done.  I still have more weight I'd like to lose.  But at the end of the day, if I don't lose another pound, I want to be happy with how far I've come vs how far I still have to go; to compliment myself for doing well rather than criticize myself for making a bad choice.

The other motivation I have for creating this blog is to pay it forward.  There have been many that have helped me along my journey, both through support groups, and by those that took a few minutes out of their days to post a message on a forum, or respond to a question I had.  It means a lot to me, and is an attitude I've tried to adopt if others are looking into this option.

Surgery is not a miracle cure.  It requires work like any other program.  I'm not perfect by any means; in fact, food choices are something I'm struggling with now as I get further out from surgery.  But for the most part, I've followed the program and increased exercise.  It is just a tool, but it is a mighty powerful one.

I don't advocate surgery for everyone.  You have to be ready for it, and in many ways, I was not.  I was unable to eat much, if at all at first, but was still fat.  I underestimated how much food had comforted me; how much I used it as a crutch.  I thought I just had bad food habits and choices, downplaying the emotional aspect food had in my life.  I was moody and pissed off that I couldn't eat - in my head, I knew that's what I signed up for, but dealing with it after surgery, when there is no off switch, was hard for me.  It took a long while to feel like I had made the right decision.   

One thing I would encourage, for those that are either looking into the surgery or that have already had it - please tell people about it.  Maybe not right away, but once you've started losing a lot and it becomes really noticeable, if someone asks what you are doing, tell them you are following a diet and exercise plan and have this amazing tool to help you out.  I realize this is a debatable point and not everyone will agree with me.  I also realize that this decision is typically more difficult for women, because it seems women are unfairly judged by other women for their decision more so than men are.  But for me, and especially if someone has known me for a while, if they've asked what I'm doing, I'm not telling the whole truth if I leave out the sleeve.  I wasn't able to do it on my own, and I fully admit that.  I'm not ashamed of that, either.  I have amazing respect for anyone that could lose the amount of weight I had to lose and keep it off on their own.  But the statistics to do that are not in our favor.  Anyone that judges me for having surgery, which has bettered and lengthened my life, can quite honestly go screw themselves.  That is not a person needed in my life, nor yours.  :)

This is my journey - thanks for being a part of it.  -Brian