One can for every pound I lose...bring it!

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Wake Up Call

I had an appointment at my cardiologist's today. It was one I have been dreading since getting my blood work done about 2 weeks ago. I knew the numbers would not be great; I had stopped taking my simvastatin and was sure it went up a bit. 

A "bit" wound up being 60 points. 
That's SIXTY. Two syllables. Sixty. 

The doctor actually asked me if I was experiencing any chest pain. Come to think of it, I just started to in the office when he read my numbers! 

Was I shocked? Well, at first I was, yes. I just didn't expect it to be up that much. My doctor said something like "diet, diet, diet" (well, not something like that, that's exactly what he said) and I told him I agreed. He said he knows how hard it is to stay on a healthy path himself, but that at the end of the day we are all responsible for our own actions. I was totally agreeing with him. Although a part of me couldn't see what I had done to get up SIXTY points - I mean, come on! I am not eating a pound of cheese a day, for crying out loud! 

Then a warped slide show of "This is Your Life" played through my head. It went something like this: 

"Hi Diana, I am the donut you picked up on the way to work when you stopped for coffee. I made you feel good for a few minutes, but afterwards, you felt awful. But you did it again that week anyway." 

"I am the cheese you added to that healthy Subway sub- as you say, it's no fun getting a sub toasted if it doesn't have cheese!"

Hi Diana, I am the ranch dressing you added to top off your sub! I know you always tell the sandwich artist "just a teeny but of Ranch" but they squirt me in pretty generously! 

I am the whipped cream you add to your Starbucks coffee every time you get it - because it makes your drink "taste like Europe" - how exactly does Europe taste?? 

 Well, those flashbacks added up to 60 points pretty quick. And I thought about how many other "wake up calls" I have gotten over the years. The ones I hit the "snooze" button on because they came at an inconvenient time (probably while I was ordering fast food or something). 

But this one was different. Because when your motivation for losing weight goes from "I wanna fit in my size 8 jeans" to "I wanna prevent a heart attack" it's got a little more weight to it. 

A little more weight to it. Pun intended? 

What a gracious God, to not let me have the damn heart attack in order to wake up and smell the coffee (sans whipped cream). I literally went from the doctor's office to the grocery store to buy some healthy items. I was working night shift tonight and hadn't planned my dinner, so I got a pack of chicken breasts and came home and baked them. I cut up some strawberries and got a Greek organic yogurt into my lunchbox and wow, that wasn't so hard after all. 

We all know the Albert Einstein quote about insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. I was kind of insane lately. Only I didn't exactly expect different results. I just wanted them. Been there, done that? 

So here I am, reflecting on my past choices, with cold hard numbers as proof of their consequences. My bad. I get it. My chance to make it right. I get that too. With a history of heart disease in my family, this threat is real. My dad had the first of several heart attacks when he was 40. I will be 42 this year. 

I am not saying that food can't be an addiction that is hard to break free of; having been addicted in the past (just to cigarettes and alcohol, but still) I see that is where I have been. But man, I want to be addicted to life, and my choices aren't going to give me more of THAT unless they are the RIGHT choices. 

Diet, diet, diet. So many years of schooling for those words of wisdom which are quite profound. Not really as simple as it sounds, right? If you are struggling with weight go ahead and have a chuckle with me over those 3 "simple" words. 

I've got my oatmeal on the counter and frozen blueberries at the ready for breakfast tomorrow. I plan on making some turkey chili and quinoa to take to work. 

I just pray that this time, my wake up call "sticks." Because I seem to be the queen of starting over, and I just for once want to be the queen of gittin-er-done, so I can watch a new slide show.

Hi Diana, I'm the part of you that loves you back for the choices you have made. Thanks for taking care of me so I can take care of you back! Besides, tasting like Europe is sooooo overrated!  

Monday, June 4, 2012


The day was finally here. I had prayed for it, which to some might seem plain silly. But there it was...the box on our doorstep.

I knew immediately what was inside, and I was giddy with excitement.

My husband's running shoes. 

Huh? you might ask. Let me explain.

Since running has become my passion, I was begging my husband to join me. I knew it would be a way for us to bond since we both have such busy jobs. I know how good it made ME feel, and I wanted to share that with him. But he resisted. For the better part of a year, he just said no.

Until one day, he ordered the shoes. Oh, glorious day!

He tried them on, and I expected to run out the door with him right then and there. Until he made a funny face.

They were too small.


So, they got shipped back to get exchanged for the proper size. And unlike the speedy shipping when you BUY something, the return process is just plain slow. Like, horse & buggy slow. But I had waited and would wait some more because good things come to those who wait.

So I ran, dreaming of when the shoes in the right size would be keeping pace next to me. Me and my man, running. The thought itself made me want to run a freaking marathon.

The box reappeared two weeks later and the fit was right. It rained that night, but the next day, we would run together! Woo hoo!

I was getting ready to go to the store for I don't remember what, and it happened all of a sudden, and I screamed.

My toe. Slammed into the corner of my heavy wooden bed, with a sickening "crack" and a sharp pain that dropped me back on the bed.

Instead of running with my husband the next day, I was in the urgent care X-Ray. My little toe. The one that went "wee wee wee" all the way home. Broken was the verdict. Broken. 


If it was funny, I would laugh. Someday, I might even do that. But it sure wasn't funny then. Or now. I was like, "Really? Really? Now? I am finally getting it together and able to do this wonderful thing with my husband and I break my freaking TOE?!"

I have had my fair share of setbacks. I remember one of the earlier ones, when I joined the tennis team at school in the 9th grade. Just after the last practice, I found out I had mono. The doctor said no exercise or apparently I would be sacrificing a certain organ. Who needs a spleen, exactly? Apparently I did, and I was forbidden to play. I went to every match, and wondered why me.

Then there was my car accident in 2009. It happened shortly after I had gotten it together - I was walking 3 miles a day, had lost about 15 pounds with just 10 more to go, and was feeling great. Then an 80-year old woman decided to hit us head on and we all wound up in the trauma unit of the hospital.


By the grace of God we were all spared and with relatively minor injuries. I was on the couch for the better part of 6 weeks, unable to breathe or move or cough or LAUGH and had time to think about how this was going to affect my plans. I had big plans! Didn't God realize that? I had a lot of "woe is me" moments on that couch. I also had a lot of spiritual awakening. I have heard it said that if you want to make God laugh, go ahead and tell Him your plans. Things that make you go hmmmm....

I have heard of "setbacks" referred to as major and minor. Rain in Disney World? Minor Setback. Broken ribs after a car accident when you are on the path to get healthy? Pretty major setback.

But here's the thing. I haven't yet found a permanent setback.  My mono lingered for 3 months, but eventually went away. My little bitty toe will heal, just as my ribs did (and I thought they never would. A testament to the healing power of this body God blessed me with!) I was able to run two 5K's after having knee problems (a result of aforementioned accident). None of my setbacks have been permanent. I'll run with my husband; now just isn't the right time, for whatever reason that God knows and I don't. I have guessed it's so he can "catch up" to where I am at (-: - least that's what I tell myself.

Setbacks are just bumps in the road. An obstacle that sometimes you have to wait to clear - or take the long way around - or turn back and find another way! Are you dealing with a setback? It can be as simple as dropping the casserole 10 minutes before your new husband walks in the door (true story) to as devastating as a scary medical diagnosis. I have had setbacks in some of my personal relationships. But with faith, you can push through it and past it. This too shall pass has become something I literally say out loud the moment a setback presents itself.

My heart won't give up. I am a hopeless romantic and refuse to have less than a love story - even if that love story is just mine and mine alone. I believe, with all my heart, that I will love myself again, and that I will finally be at peace with my body and live my abundant life - my healthy, abundant life. I will take care of myself as best as I can. I can't run, but I can do water aerobics. I hurt myself lifting weights, so I will rest and know my limits when I am ready again. My setbacks won't keep me back. Can I get an Amen?

I pray that no setback will be too unsettling for you. Or me. Knowing that I have a God who has a plan to not harm me but help me prosper (Jeremiah 29:11) gets me through those dark shadowy "why me again?" times.

Just keep're closer than you think...

xo xo