Moving Forward...

Hello, all. It's been 6 weeks since my last post. After this last setback with the infection and a 2nd stay at the nursing facility, I wound up being let go from one of my part time jobs. After some reflex resentment, I realized that this wasn't such a bad thing. I no longer have to sift through people's donated filth while physically taxing myself for minimum wage with no hope for a raise or any future advancement. Turns out after nearly 2 years, this is a fine time to move on.

With the extra time I've found, I subconsciously have been shying away from Facebook, blogging, and most computer related activities. My focus has been on healing, walking, seeing my friends at the gym and the lanes, and appreciating not being confined to a building with tubes stuck in me.

Now, Lord willing, it looks like the worst is behind me as the wounds close and my strength returns. And this is where I'd like to leave it in the context of this blog and life in general. Behind me. My plan here is to pick up where I left off writing about my life experiences as an obese person and the events that shaped them. So, without further ado...

As I began my 40's, my frustration level and dissatisfaction with life in general seemed to rise along with my weight. The difference was that the increase in pounds was far less subtle than the other problems. It took a very long time and a rude awakening to realize all these things fed off one another and became the most vicious of cycles.

I got very proficient at finding reasons to be disgruntled at work. This was the best paying job of my life and the least physically demanding. Yet things would get to me such as the 65-mile one-way commute and my perceived politicking and favoritism in the workplace.

By the time completing my degree was close at hand, my attitude was souring to the point where I just wanted to get it over with. What started as an exciting challenge in 1999 to complete my education became a tiring nuisance in 2003.

Only recently have I realized that all this negativity was brought about because of the PHYSICAL effort it took to do all the things I was doing. There was no way I could handle everything for much longer simply because I was nowhere near the condition necessary to handle it! I was taking on all the challenges I felt were important EXCEPT the most important one. Sound familiar, anyone?

So early in 2002 I gave up the job. In September of 2003 I finally earned my degree. Where did this get me? To the status of an unemployed college graduate. With a horrible weight problem.

As my mid-forties passed, I found out how tough finding employment is for a severely obese individual. I got interviews, but once I walked in and met the employers, there was always 2 strikes against me. I was perceived as a liability with all the labels that severely overweight people are subjected to. Without certain benefits I managed to qualify for and ever dwindling savings, I could easily have been out on the streets.

Fortunately, in 2007, at age 46, I picked up a tutoring job as a result of a TELEPHONE interview. The whole process was applying on line, e-mail arrangement of the interview, and the interview itself. In the entire process I never saw anyone face to face. There is no doubt in my mind that this made all the difference in my hirability. Being hired for this position began a series of events which slowly turned my life around for the better.

Obviously, starting my training and weight-loss has been the highlight and cornerstone of all these events. The acquisition of the tutoring job will be a good place to start the next post as it signifies the dawn of a slow but sure turnaround to positivity in a massively negative life.


My buddy is reaching for his next move. What am I reaching for?



Engaged in my old favorite activity.

That's more like it!

Back to the Future

It has now been 10 days since my release from the skilled nursing facility. After 3 days in the hospital and 25 days at the SNF, I have developed a huge appreciation for the "ordinary" things in life. It was a real paradox for me; there's no way I could've recuperated as much (or even at all by myself in my apartment) as I have without the care of good ol' Garden City and their staff. Yet, the days stretched out as my condition caused a great deal of uncertainty on my part. Boredom with the monotony of being stuck in one place, having to move and sleep ever so carefully while the tubes and stitches were still in me and predictable meals created a mood I never care to visit again.

However, my condition did improve, obviously. I just had to learn that the body takes time to recover after any surgery, much less two surgeries in 3 days. And who knows how much longer it would've taken had I not been in the best physical condition of my life beforehand? Times like this call for new perspective and a firm philosophical mind-set on the positive. There was a real wrestling match going on between something close to despair and the knowledge that I was closer to recovery with each passing day. I've never been much of a wrestler but I won that match!

As soon as I was released and said good-bye to the staff and patients, I went home and breathed it all in. My apartment was exactly as I left it, but it felt for just a little while that I had just moved in all over again. It was weird. I just had to lay down on my king sized bed for an hour and how sweet that was. Then, I got in my car and drove for the first time in a month! Where did I go? Straight to Full Force Personal Training, of course. I needed to see my trainers and friends again and be back in the workout environment. That went over well as we shook hands and caught up on things. The next day, after getting up 5 times in 7 hours to go to the bathroom, I showered at my leisure and resumed my pre-surgery eating habits. Real, healthy food is SO tasty! Then I saw my old friends from bowling as I returned to that environment. I'm not ready to bowl yet and may not be for a while, but the point was to get back to it in some way and it was great to do that!

As time passed, I started walking each day. First for 20 minutes. Then I got impatient and started walking 30-40 minutes. It was tiring at first, but I'm finding my strength is increasing the later it gets. Finally, after a week at home, I returned to work. Got back to both my part-time jobs and it was fantastic to be back in action. You never appreciate the privilege of being productive and earning ANY kind of paycheck until it's forced away from you for whatever reason. And now I'm looking forward to my first full week back to work and, with the Good Lord's blessing, a swift track to full recovery.

This is still going to take several months of rebuilding strength, full closing of the wound and losing the swelling and water weight. But my trainer has a plan, my friends are behind me, and my surgeon is monitoring me weekly. The new me is on the horizon, I just need to not rush it and let it happen...

My Ordeal

It's been a while since I've posted here. Had my surgery and because of some complications, was hospitalized for 3 days and in a skilled nursing facility for 25 more. Here is the account of what happened up to about a week before my release:

Tuesday, August 14, 2012, I went into the operating room to have the excess abdominal skin resulting from my weight loss removed. One moment I’m being prepped and fully aware of my surroundings. The next moment I’m in the recovery room being roused awake. I don’t even recall becoming drowsy or any sense of drifting off. Just bang, bang! And it was done!

As much as I tried to brace myself for how post-op would feel, there was no way to anticipate the sensation. I was told that 8 lbs. of skin was removed, which is considered a hefty amount. My abdomen and groin were what I considered in an unnatural state of soreness and sensitivity. It felt like if I moved too fast or the wrong way, I’d rip myself apart.

For all this, when the time came, I was able to take some shuffling steps to the bathroom, get wheeled to my ride’s car and go home. From the car I managed to gingerly walk to my stairway, climb 18 steps and enter my apartment under the supervision of my buddy.

Although I was extremely delicate, I felt confident and strong enough to putter around my apartment as needed. My niece’s son came over to spend the night and my best friend went home. I got around pretty well walking from room to room and sitting at my computer.

The next day my grand-nephew went home and I was on my own. Things seemed all right until I went to bed. Then I went through the most frightening night of my life. There are 2 plastic bottles attached to tubes emerging from my lower abdomen called J-P drains. Well, I started noticing that one of the drains would fill up almost as fast as I could empty it. Whenever I got up it would be only a few seconds before I got nauseous, light-headed, my legs started giving out, and I knew I was close to passing out. It was a wonder I could rush back to bed and curl up in the fetal position just to feel close to “normal”.

This continued through about noon the next day. Thank God a great friend of mine who is an experienced registered nurse came over to check on me. She quickly assessed the situation, made the calls to the hospital where I was insured and called 911. Before too long I was being carried downstairs, loaded into the ambulance and on my way back to the OR.

Less than 2 hours after I was admitted, a hematoma was removed and I was given a transfusion of 2 units of blood. This time it was certainly NOT an out-patient procedure. I was hospitalized for 3 days, carefully monitored and well taken care of. Although this was an experience totally foreign to me, I certainly had no objections! I got stronger, did some standing and walking without any feeling of possibly passing out or worse. This was a huge relief and an ENORMOUSLY positive sign of improvement for me!

Finally, it was time to be discharged. Fortunately, it was taken into consideration that being home alone was not really an option just yet. I was sent to a skilled nursing facility for treatment, evaluation, and rehab until it could be determined that I truly can go home and take care of myself.

Obviously, there’s no way I could’ve anticipated the ordeal I would go through. Truth be told, this was a rather uncommon complication to deal with. It was the kind of misfortune that would’ve been very tough to brace myself for prior to the surgery.

This has been about as challenging an experience for me as it was when I lost the weight. I can never repay the debt of gratitude to my friends who helped me through my crisis, those who provided transportation, and family and friends who came to visit. Along with the fitness community which I’m proud to be a part of rallying to support me, I feel blessed far more than I am able to comprehend.

It has now been one week since checking into the skilled nursing facility. Ten days since the second surgery. The healing is progressing but not as fast as I’d like. A place like this really produces a conflict of emotions and moods. There’s no way I could get along alone in my apartment which makes me very much appreciate being someplace that can tend to all my needs. However, I’ve never missed anything as much as my king-sized bed. The overnight hours seem to be the toughest part of the day to get through. With the drains and tubing where they are as well as the stitches, I basically have to stay in one position on my back all night with very little room to maneuver. What a number this does to my upper back and tailbone area! I will say, though, that it’s getting somewhat easier to get through the night as I learn to adapt.

Getting up in the morning has become a comparatively delightful experience. At first it was challenging swinging my legs out to get into a sitting position and out of bed. Now I find myself much stronger and doing those things with little discomfort. It still needs to be done carefully, but the transition is smoother. As I think about it, the new morning brings a number of positives to bear. First, I’m one day closer to recovery. Next, I rise up early (often times 6AM or earlier) which feels much, much better than sleeping in most of the time. Then there are things to look forward to like breakfast (such as it is) and physical therapy twice a day Monday through Friday. And now I have my laptop and healthy snack foods to keep myself occupied and eating better.

No one “gets used to” being in a place like this. The fortunate ones cope with it and adapt to the situation until things become tolerable at best. The staff here has certainly gone a long way toward helping me get to that point, not to mention my physical improvement. Visits, care packages, prayers and support from the best people anyone can ever have on their side have sustained my mental and emotional well being. There are certainly people here that are going through worse than I am with fewer people to help. While I need to avoid dwelling on the negative, this fact helps me guard against falling into the trap of self-pity. After all, this is leading to an incredibly positive result after the healing period passes, so I need to just keep looking ahead…

And now it is September 5 and I have been here at Garden City for 2 ½ weeks. Today I had my third follow up appointment with my surgeon and a huge step has been taken. At last, one of my drainage tubes has been taken out and WOW...

, what a difference! It was such a relief to get that out of me. Immediately, I was able to walk much more smoothly and with increased pace. To have that much less pressure and discomfort in my groin is a giant leap toward feeling like my old self again.

Next week (Wednesday the 12th) the doctor says the other tube should come out and probably my stitches as well! Just as a safety measure, it was recommended that I stay here at least until Monday so the proper meds and monitoring can be administered while I still have the one drain. Even when the doctor pulled the one tube out of me, I didn’t feel a thing which was a real bonus as I thought there’d be at least some pain. Just gotta tough it out a little bit longer and I’ll soon be back to active status.

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel and I can hardly wait to get to it!





The Graduate

It is September 1999. I am 38 years old, holding down the best paying job I've ever had, own a larger percentage of my 4-bedroom house than the average mortgage holder, have 2 sound vehicles in the driveway, and financially comfortable to say the least.

At this time I have decided to become more ambitious. This lead to enrollment to Cal State Hayward University (now known as Cal State East Bay) to pursue my bachelor's degree. I had completed most of my general ed in community college and this seemed the right time to go for it. So, one or two classes at a time, quarter after quarter, I pressed on taking computer programming courses and branches of mathematics that I never knew existed. My mind was bending and twisting like never before as the mental challenges increased.

Now if I had been working and training my body as hard and relentlessly as I was doing the same to my brain, there would no longer have been a weight problem to deal with. In fact, I would probably have been quite well put together! Guess I wasn't quite as smart as I thought.

Notwithstanding, time passed and, as graduation began to loom on the horizon, I found myself getting tired of the effort it took to live in the Benicia/Vallejo area, attend school in Hayward, and work in Sunnyvale. It seemed like half my life was being spent in transit. My ever increasing weight did nothing but contribute to how downright cranky I was getting about all of it. But finally, in September 2003, at age 42, I earned my Bachelor of Science in Computer Science with a minor in Mathematics. It was a huge relief to finally accomplish something that should have been done decades earlier.

And how did I celebrate? Why, naturally, I threw a big pizza party for family and friends! Just another excuse to stuff my face while no doubt the people who were close to me held back their concern and alarm in the guise of celebration of an accomplishment. It was also at this little shindig that a photo was taken of me that REALLY defined the horrible state of health I was in. I consider that picture the ultimate horror of my life. Honestly, when I look at it, I think of Jabba the Hut from Star Wars...pit-i-FUL!

The crux of all of this is that I kept my life jam packed with what I thought were life affirming activities. Work, education, material possession, financial well being. I had my chess competitions for "recreation" and met my best friend to this day from that world. My neighbor was a lovely woman who became a constant companion and kept company with me for years despite my appearance and negative demeanor. So there was some semblance of a social life.

It's very sobering to think about now; I was busy trying to take care of every part of my life EXCEPT the part that was, by far, the highest priority. I was literally ignoring the 600 lb. "gorilla" in the room! Hard to fathom how self-destructive I was...wow!

Next time I'll share about pulling up stakes, moving to Modesto, and further adventures...

        

 

In lieu of my usual workout/weight-loss installment, I'd like to share with you the excitement of a surgical procedure I am about to go through. When a person goes through the kind of weight loss such as mine, there is always excessive skin leftover which can cause some complications not to mention be quite unsightly. This is not to deter someone from losing weight. Believe me, I'd MUCH rather have this to deal with than have that skin be filled up with fat like it used to be. I just want the reader to be aware of the facts.

Recently, I have become medically qualified to be covered for having a very large overhang of abdominal skin (called a panis) removed. This is happening 5 days from this writing and I am overjoyed at being rid of this colossal nuisance and being that much closer to fully completing my transformation.

God has chosen to reward me for my patience, hard work, and perseverance with the help of true friends who trained me, true friends who encouraged me, and true friends who have validated my life with the words of admiration and heartwarming sentiment.

It has been 3 1/2 years since the first day of this journey and I just want to thank you all as I step that much closer to becoming the "complete man" I've always dreamed of being.

Unhealthy, Wealthy, and Unwise

As my mid to late 30's came along, several major changes, good and bad, came about. In October 1997, at age 36, I completed my tech school education at Heald for computers and electronics. The week before graduation, I landed a full time job as a systems operator for $14/hr plus lots of overtime hours. At last, my self esteem had some momentum as I achieved some success career-wise.

Very nearly the end of that same year, Mom passed away. There was an inheritance of which I received the lion's share. Now, I was making $40+K per year and had quite a tidy sum in the bank. This is not to brag, but to set the scene of where I was in life at that time. I was nowhere near a millionaire, but I sure tried to live like one at times. Obviously, I was not prepared to be in the financial position I suddenly found myself in.

One thing I did correctly was to buy a house while the market was still sharply rising and would do so for years to come. There I was, rattling around in a 4 bedroom, 2 1/2 bath house all by myself for over 4 years. Unfortunately, I made numerous poor decisions. An unnecessary refinance on my house, a gently used truck that I paid cash for and really didn't need, a LEASE on a mini-van for some crazy reason. There were usually 3 nice vehicles in my garage or driveway. A person can only drive one vehicle at a time, right?

Now besides the irresponsible spending, there was the matter of my spiraling weight gain. About the worst thing in the world for a drug addict or an alcoholic is to have big money land in his or her lap while in the depths of addiction. Well, food is a lot less expensive than drugs or alcohol. I had carte blanche to whatever I wanted to eat whenever I wanted to eat. Whatever vehicle I chose to drive on a particular day, it was a struggle to wedge myself into it and out of it. When I drove, the steering wheel sunk into my ample flesh, often giving me fresh bruises or skin irritation.

The point is that while I had all this alleged financial freedom, I had absolutely NO discipline! Many, many times I've said to people while in the midst of this massive weight-loss, "Discipline brings rewards." I will also say from painful experience that lack of discipline will cost you dearly. Physically AND financially. I am much happier now in my current physical condition without the money than I ever was with a swollen bank account and body to more than match.

On vacation July 2011

Hamming it up April 2012. Keeping the weight off, yes?

Now we've decided to set a new goal. My "ultimate" goal weight of 250 had been accomplished, so we might as well go above and beyond. The unimaginable was now on the horizon and I was going for under 230 lbs.! As a bit of extra incentive, a friendly wager was established with a fellow client of FullForce. I had 60 days to get to a weight below his. I was actually competing to weigh less than a guy shorter than me.

And off I went, not only training with RG, but continuing with the early morning spin classes before work and the water aerobics. It became a need for me to distance myself from the old me as much as possible and it continues to this day. Now I must become better and better and better, which I consider a good addiction.

This other gentleman was being trained by one of the other trainers and the contest turned into a lot of good-natured trash talking amongst the four of us. It was a healthy, high-spirited atmosphere which did us all a lot of good. Good healthy competition can only improve a person.

The big day finally arrived and we had our weigh-in. My friend weighed in at about 231 or 232. Then I stepped on the scale...and it read...227 lbs.! This was the least I ever weighed as an adult. Even as far back as 8th Grade I don't think I was this light. The contest was won. More importantly, my health and fitness were not only at their peak, but there was no reference point from my past to compare the feeling to! Every day I walked around feeling like a fully charged battery. No words could do justice to the feeling of pride and accomplishment.

At this time, RG told me that we were no longer training for weight loss. We were now going for strength and flexibility. That made sense as my weight really couldn't get any lower for my height and frame. An incredible situation that I never dreamed possible!

  

Sad But True

This part of my life is difficult to share, much less talk about. Yet, it is far too significant to omit. It is not my intention to be morbid or to depress the reader, but it is what it is and it needs to be said. Read on at your discretion.

My 30's were rather cluttered with funerals. It seems more family members and a friend or two passed away during this time than any other. It began tragically in 1992. My nephew, Brian, who was the only child of my brother Jeff, was pushed into oncoming traffic on a busy main street in Hayward, CA. Idiot ass, waste of life gang-banger pretending to be a real tough guy chooses the son of my deceased brother as a target and an entire branch of the family tree gets pruned.

Less than a year later, Dad dies after a long period of battling illnesses too numerous to count. Seems like life punched him in the gut so many times it was a wonder he could breathe. When he was laid off his job with General Cable that he held for over 25 years, he was no longer the bread-winner of the family. Mom took over this role with her post office career. Dad felt as though he was emasculated. It sent him spiraling into a deep depression and a feeling of worthlessness. He became paranoid and refused to leave the house. In his last decade, he suffered three nervous breakdowns and it was heartbreaking to visit him while he was hospitalized for this. Ultimately, he just wound up shutting down internally and that was that.

Late in 1997, Mom routinely comes home from work after her graveyard shift. She stops at Wendy's to enjoy a frosty as she likes to do occasionally. Then, for whatever reason, her heart simply stopped beating, her head slumped down, and it was over. She did have a pacemaker for some years, but she was a spry, active 73 year old woman who literally worked until the day she died. I'll admit my relationship with her wasn't the smoothest, but, conflicts or not, we were still mother and son.

If you still have your parents, do your best to enjoy each other. It is still a very odd, haunting feeling after 15 years to not have them around.

Another nephew and a sister died when I was in my 40's and I'll discuss that as that part of the timeline arrives. A close friend from my job at Varian stayed friends with me after I left in April 1997. I continued to visit him and his beautiful blond Brazilian wife and 2 daughters. After a while I noticed he started looking depressed. He was getting a gut on him and he seemed not to really care. I should have said something, I guess. Then some time passed, I became very busy, and I didn't visit for about a year. Finally, I dropped by one day only to have his wife tell me that he passed away. Shocking! My mind could not wrap itself around this revelation. He was one of a few people who told me I was their only friend. Well, now I had one less friend.

One thing that surfaced from all this was the fact that the only time our family really gathered together was at funerals. It further soured my opinion of the closeness (or rather, the lack of it) of the family to which I belonged. To this day I remain highly cynical of my relatives and family units in general. Does that make me a bad guy? Hope not...

Happiness is the Farmers' Market



Whole Foods for clean foods  

Now the push is on to reach the goal of breaking the 250 lb. weight mark. We train on the TRX (a fantastic device resembling a long adjustable strap with two handles on each end), we train on the assisted pull-up machine. Push-ups, inchworms, alligator walks, and an introduction to an object called a kettle bell. Continued water aerobics, spin classes, Stair Climber sessions, incline treadmill and elliptical machine at the corporate gym.

Then the day comes! I weigh in and the scale reads exactly 250 lbs.! RG and the other proprietors of FullForce are SO proud of me, but not as proud as I am of myself. Two and a half years and 282 lbs. of work, discipline and dedication have led to my rebirth as a fit, strong, new me!

With his usual class, RG treats me to a steak dinner with all the fixin's at Tahoe Joe's and we are joined by MS (one of the co-owners of FullForce) and significant others. One of the more memorable evenings of my lifetime, and the steak never tasted so good...

Next time, I hit rock bottom...in a good way!

Sailing Right Along...Into Danger!

So now I'm blundering my way into my fourth decade. At age 30 I weighed in at around 360 lbs. This is alarming, to be sure. Awareness of the danger is not lost on me. Yet there seems to be no urgency to do anything serious about it for any significant length of time. How ironic; in my 30's I had the body age of a senior citizen and now, at 51, I feel like a man in his mid to late 20's.

The older a person gets, the faster time seems to pass. As I inched my way closer to middle-age, the pounds kept piling up. Unfortunately, my age 30 weight was an abnormally high starting point for the "middle-age spread" to start. Most people gain a few pounds per year at this time. I can say with a degree of certainty that I packed on about 20 lbs. each year on average.

Miraculously, any time I had a physical check-up, my blood counts came back normal, my blood pressure was borderline high at worst, there was no diabetes, and my cholesterol count was always below 200 (although it once got to 199). Further, I could walk around where and when I needed to. However, running became impossible. There were times when my chronic left knee would swell up without warning. There were flare-ups of bursitis in my left hip that made it hell to walk even a few steps. I became winded at the drop of a hat; every 10th breath or so I'd have to deeply inhale. Sleep apnea sauntered its way into my life and many times I'd wake myself up gasping for breath or catching myself snoring. By the way, on the rare occasion of sharing a room with someone, I'd snore them right out the door. Nice life, huh?

Around age 30, I was working at the last temp assignment of my career. One day on the job, it dawned on me that I brought in a full 2-Liter bottle of Coke. At the end of the 8-hour shift, the bottle was empty. I didn't spill any of it and I didn't share it with anyone. I drank it. More than half a gallon of Coca Cola consumed in less than 8 hours! I also remember clearly that day one of my co-workers asking me how I had the energy to work as hard as I did all day long. I didn't realize it at the time, but it was really a left-handed compliment. Apparently, someone of my girth was supposed to be unable to do his share of the work that was expected. I chuckled unwittingly and joked that drinking a 2-Liter bottle of Coke highly elevated my energy level. This was one enormous red flag trying to scream at me: "DO SOMETHING, YOU'RE KILLING YOURSELF!".

Soon after this I landed a permanent job with a company called Varian Associates. This job was the longest time of employment in any one place in my life. I worked for them for 6 1/2 years. I settled into routines and behavior patterns that highly enabled my ever increasing weight and decreasing health. In contrast, after about 4 years in my first apartment, I changed residences quite frequently. A relocation on the job, financial considerations, living conditions of the current residence would all force me to live somewhat nomadically. The stress of frequent moves also accelerated my rationale for eating as I pleased.

Excuses, excuses, excuses.

I'll be sharing other deeper personal experiences of my 30's next time.

How's your food journal coming along?

All right, then. I'm under 300 lbs. now and that's phenomenal! But there's plenty more to do. My ultimate goal, after all, was to get below 250 lbs. Right around this time, FullForce Personal Fitness has left the launching pad and, for the most part, I've migrated to the new facility with my 3 friends.

As the ultimate goal came into sight, the workouts got ever more challenging. It was just stupendous to be doing things for the first time ever or in a very long time. I once did a full, straight-backed, chest to the ground push-up in 8th Grade. One. Now, I was doing 5 of them at a time. Then 10. Then 10 push-ups became a routine exercise that followed other segments of the workout. In a half hour session, RG sneakily had me doing 70-100 full range of motion push-ups! Another first came about way back when I was training with my original trainer. I was in my first few months of this oddyssey and I got to the point where I actually ran for the first time in many, many years. I didn't realize it until 1 of my 3 friends from FullForce told me that day that while I ran, my face was beaming with pride! It was a real epiphany.

Another exercise that dripped the pounds off me was called inchworms. I learned to do them at the old gym and got proficient at them at FF. I started doing them for longer distances, RG pushing the levels of my endurance ever further. I left sweat trails. At times, I cried out in agony. When I did that, the other trainers yelled out encouragement for me to push through. And I did. I'll leave it to the reader to look up what inchworms consist of, but it evolved to the point that as I walked my hands out to starting push-up position, I did one. So it was inchworm up, inchworm down, push-up, repeat.



Ugh! And there's room to spare!



While all this was going on, 2 days per week I'd go to the original gym and do water aerobics. 2 other days per week I'd go there at 6AM to do Spin class for 45 minutes on the stationary bikes before work. By now I was completely consumed with reaching that under 250 number. I kept up the journal and the healthy eating habits. I had no idea where things would go once I reached that goal, but reach it I would!

And did! Find out what happened that happy, happy day and beyond next time...