Face Lift

This month, I will be twenty six years old.

I remember vividly when I was a kid, riding in the back of my friend's family's old green station wagon as her older sister brought me home from one of our countless sleep overs. I watched from the back seat as her sister, who was in college and maybe 21 at the time, navigated the car through the winding back roads of my hometown, effortlessly driving with one hand on the wheel, the other flicking through the limited radio stations. I remember thinking "wow... she's so grown up" and having a hard time imagining how I could ever get that old. It's difficult for a nine year old brain to grasp that. 

So here I am, five years older than she was on that sunny summer drive, and I'm still wondering when I am going to feel "grown up." I have done a lot of growing, that is true. I am no longer the insecure little girl in her group of friends because she's "too tall" or "too big" or "too strong" - I now embrace those qualities. I am no longer worried about what others think of me when I wear a bikini or a crop top because "I'm not skinny enough" - instead, I rock it with confidence. I am no longer always looking for approval, afraid to make anyone upset or hurt feelings - I now speak my mind and stand up for myself, right or wrong, and able to admit when I am the latter. I have definitely grown, but I don't feel as if I'm "grown up" yet. You know, that adage of looking around for an adult and realizing you are the adult? That's my life every single day. 

Earlier this month, I hit my breaking point. My car has been in the shop for almost a month, something that is going to cost us a ton of money we don't have to spare, I'm sure. I've had to rely on others to get to and from work, which is embarrassing and frustrating. Luckily, I have a great group of people who don't mind helping me out, but it's still makes me feel like I'm not "adulting" right. On top of that, I discovered a blood clot in my leg a couple of weeks ago, which warranted a couple of trips to the Emergency Room. Thankfully, it was not serious, and has since improved greatly, but it was a wake up call, and a terrifying one at that. 

Blood clots are caused by a number of things. I was on a particular type of birth control that has a heightened risk of causing blood clots. Couple that with my already existent varicose veins and being overweight, stressed, and always on my feet - perfect storm. They say when it rains it pours, and August was most definitely a month of storms and torrential downpour, one I feel like I barely go out of with my sanity intact. Although, it's not all rainbows and life rafts now. 

I blamed myself. For going to college and allowing myself to get into debt. For picking a lemon car that has been nothing but issues since we got it. For gaining weight back and allowing my health to become so unimportant to me that something like this could happen. For not exercising, for not paying enough attention to warning signs something was happening to me (see my last post) and for just generally allowing my life to get so out of control. I fell back into those patterns I'd become so familiar with; obsessing over weight, calories, the number on the scale, as if controlling that could help me regain control of my life. I started a ketogenic diet, which is super low carb and high fat/protein based diet designed to help you drop weight fast. (Before anyone starts lecturing me on why keto is not a maintenance diet and I shouldn't do it, I'm aware. Thank you for your concern.) I started weighing myself again multiple times a day, obsessed with every ounce lost or gained and letting it completely determine my mood. Sounds a lot like how I started out in the first place, doesn't it? Funny thing about patterns; they repeat. 

That's why, entering into this new month, and my next chapter of life in my "late twenties", I am changing the view of this little corner of the internet I call my own as well. I will be blogging about fitness and weight loss still, of course, but also focusing more on what it's like to be a plus sized woman in today's world. What it's like to overcome insecurities and body shaming as well as my struggles with both. What it's like to feel good about myself despite everything else this world has to throw at me. I will be sharing fashion tips, tricks, yummy recipes, and overall empowering information and experiences for others on the same road as me. I am determined, in this twenty-sixth year of life, to break the cycle of feeling like I need to be a number on a scale to be happy, because most days that is absolutely true. I'm working to make the only number I care about to be 100% comfortable and confident as often as I can, and hoping you'll join me. 

That being said... I am thinking I need a new name for this space. So, I will be holding a contest to name my  new blog! Everyone who comments with a name will be entered in the drawing, and the prize will be a handmade sassy cross stitch of your choosing if I pick what you've suggested. Keep in mind, this is going to be a body positive, plus sized safety zone full of humor, hacks, fun, and freedom to be who you want to be. 

Deadline is September 30th, or as we in my house like to call it, the D.O.B. (Day of Brooke) You may comment here, in a personal message on Facebook, or a DM on Instagram (brookiknowsbest) with submissions. In the meantime, I will be revamping this blog to reflect it's new purpose.

Here's to a new chapter! 

xoxo 

Fight The Best You Can

You know when it just seems like everything is working against you? You finally almost have all your ducks in a row and then WHAM! A huge wave comes and almost drowns you, and when you finally surface and catch your breath, you see all of the ducks you've worked so hard on corralling ass-up, dead in the water. 

That's how this week has felt. I am exaggerating, it's not like everything has crumbled to pieces. I have an awesome job and a partner in life that loves and supports me, an incredible family and friend group that has my back, the best little fur baby around, food on the table and a roof over my head. I am well aware I have it way better than most, and for that I am thankful. 

That being said, I've been struggling for a few months now, and this week has really been the straw that causes the camel to become a paraplegic left shriveling in a sand dune somewhere in the Sahara. The combination of being overworked, exhausted, and stressed has left me with little more energy than it takes me to drag myself out of bed every morning and fight through another work day. Which means, you guessed it - exercise and eating right have been at the very bottom of my list of "To Do's" lately. 

This hasn't been a problem until recently. I have been feeling very body positive and good about myself, despite putting on a few pounds in recent months. I bought another bikini this summer, one that is incredible and I seriously want to live in it because it makes me feel beautiful. I've controlled my nit picking and criticizing of myself from a day to day basis to just once in a while, which is a huge step for me who has always been so critical of every lump, bump, fold and imperfection. I know everyone has bad days, and mine have been few and far between. 

Until recently. 

I think,  partially, my lack of scrutiny is due to the fact that I've been legit living in scrubs for the past few months, which are really just professional pajamas and are super flattering when it comes to hiding a little weight gain. I have been pulling 40+ hour work weeks, commuting to different sites to help cover vacancies, and getting home well after 8pm most nights. This leaves me just enough time to scarf down something quick and, often, microwaveable if I haven't already picked up something fast food related on the drive home. And then I collapse into bed, passing out well before The Mister gets home, and waking up early the next morning to do it all again, often substituting breakfast with the biggest coffee I can find at whatever drive through is on my commute. I haven't been weighing myself, tracking my progress, or sticking to anything that I know I should be. Because life happens, and no one is perfect. 

The past few weeks, I have noticed that my scrubs have been fitting a little tighter, and that does not feel good, considering a few months ago I was almost ready to trade in for a smaller size. Last week, while in the middle of a patient intake at work, I began to feel light headed and nauseous. (I know what you're thinking - pregnant. Trust me, I work at Planned Parenthood... I'm not.) I hadn't really eaten much since lunch the day before, because I got stuck late at work and commuted an hour to get home, let out The Queen and passed out on the couch until The Mister came home to wake me up, at which point I stumbled up to bed and continued my coma. I ended up having to leave the the patient in the room halfway through intake, find my way into another exam room, and keep myself from passing out. Head between the knees, deep breaths, the usual routine. I used to pass out a lot when I was a kid so thankfully, I was aware of the signs, or else that would have been terrifying for the poor patient who was already stressed out about whatever was going on in her life. 

Clearly, it was time to get my priorities in line. I started ushering all those little ducks back in a row - bought a whole bunch of healthy, whole foods from the store. Packed a gym bag. Started drinking less coffee, more water. Baby steps until after the weekend, where The Mister and I finally had some time off together for a wedding and we planned on taking full advantage. 

I bought a dress at Torrid, my favorite store and place of part time employment. After the clearance price and my 40% employee discount, I paid around 25.00 for a gorgeous maxi dress I will wear again and again and again. However, I purchased a black dress, because all of the fun, floral, colored, patterned dresses made me feel like a walking couch. I hadn't realized how far I'd backslid, as most don't, until I'd tried on clothes. Thankfully I know I can always leave Torrid with something I love, so I didn't get too frustrated, but it only solidified the fact that I needed to start really making some changes again. 

We get to the wedding, which was at a gorgeous, private venue on the Connecticut River in Southern Vermont. We drank and ate and danced and had an excellent time with old friends. We watched two people who love each other enter into union forever. We googly-eyed each other all evening, dreaming of the day when we finally get married. And we took pictures. 

Now, obviously I am aware this is an excellent photograph. First of all, look at my arm candy. How can you not be smiling with that handsome gentleman next to you? Second, the scenery is GORGEOUS. One of my coworkers told me it looks like we went to Sears and got portraits done in front of a fake background because it is so picturesque. Third, clearly I am ecstatic to be there (and a few drinks in) so I have a huge smile and am having a great time. Which is the point of a wedding, after all. 

I did not see this picture until after I got home from our weekend getaway, as one of my friends took it and sent it to me later on. Upon initial inspection, I was so happy with it. Overall, it is a gorgeous picture of a couple in love, having fun celebrating another couple in love. 

And then the nit picking begins. 

My hair is so flat. My eyebrows are out of control. Look how thick I am. Why am I holding my hand like that? Ugh, I'm lumpy. Look how big my arm looks.

It's always a picture that becomes  your turning point. If you take a look back at the first post in this blog, that was my turning point picture for this whole weight loss journey. It's a picture I look at often to remind myself how far I've come, even if I'm not where I want to be yet. Even if I backslide and put on a few pounds, I know I will never go back to where I was in that first picture. 

This picture is a turning point picture, but not in the same way. This one helped me see that, although I've put on a few pounds and have fallen out of my routine, it doesn't mean I can't still have fun. It doesn't mean I'm not beautiful, or that I don't get to experience love or happiness. It also doesn't mean that I can take that away from myself, as I did after picking apart this picture, because now all I see when I look at it is a lumpy lady in a black dress who hasn't been sticking to her goals and using the excuse that "life got in the way." 

Which brings me back to Ms. Klum's quote at the opening of this post: 

"I think you always need to try your best, but at the same time you can only do what you can do." 

If sleeping until the last possible second I can in the morning because I worked a 12 hour shift the day before and skipping the gym is the best thing for me at this moment, great. Fine. Good. Is it forever? No, and I know that. If eating an entire pizza after I get home from work because I'm too exhausted to fix anything else is what I do once in a blue moon? Fine, I just can't make a habit out of it, as I have been lately. If walking The Queen when I get home for the 10 minute poop loop we do around our neighborhood is all the movement I get in a day other than running around at work, at least I'm moving. 

"Don't beat yourself up about it." 

Nothing is 100 percent. As long as  you're giving your 100 percent from where you are, right now, that's all that matters. You get no where berating yourself for skipping the gym or eating that fried chicken or looking "lumpy" in a dress that everyone else thinks  you look great in. The world beats on us all enough without our input. 

Put up the gloves and fight the best you can. 

Awake and Flying

The scene opens on a young woman, dressed in silks and laying on a stone slab. She is breathing steadily, her golden hair flowing around her in waves, undisturbed by time passed. Her eyelids flutter, opening like delicate wings of tentative butterflies. As her vision slowly comes into focus, she sees the screen of a computer in the distance, casting a pale light upon her porcelain skin. She leaps from the slab, eyes growing wide, and races across the room, crying only two words at the realization of what she's neglected to do during her slumber;

"MY BLOG!"

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Okay, okay. Although I am no Aurora, I have been in a bit of a "sleep" the past few months. It's called life, and it cast a spell on me that, until recently, has been hard to break. It's incredible how easy it is to fall into the everyday routine, the mundane in and out of getting up, going to work, coming home, and collapsing into bed. Wash, rinse, repeat, right?

It's especially hard to focus on anything but the basic routine when you aren't sure if your job is going to be getting cut hours or when your partner is having trouble finding/staying in work. Thankfully, although it was a rough few months, The Mister found a job that allows him to be the creative food genius he is in a year-round position that fits his experience and credentials. I, after initially being told that my already part-time job would be getting cut back by 4 hours, will be getting full-time hours instead starting in June. Since things have been getting back on track, I've been able to wake up from my "keep it together" trance and focus on things that make me happy, healthy, and whole. Like writing this blog. Cooking. Exercising. Anything, really, beyond the mundane.

Let me update you since I last visited my little corner of the internet in June:

- I stopped Herbalife, at least for now. The cost proved to be too much for our current financial situation, which was disappointing, as it was really easy and seemed to be working.
- I became obsessed with counting calories and the number on the scale again, which only frustrated me and sent me further into my hypothetical "sleep", causing less motivation to eat right, go to the gym, or do anything that I really love. I felt like I was failing, which made me not want to try at all. A vicious cycle that caused me to gain back almost 15lbs from where I was in June.
- After a brief "fuck it" stint of going back to my non-healthy ways (read: holidays) I was able to get back on track using the If It Fits Your Macros (IIFYM) model. More on that in a bit.
- The Mister and I have (somewhat) seriously started wedding planning, which is very overwhelming and exciting. Shooting for Fall 2016. Eek!
- We adopted a dog! At the end of July, a little pitbull/daschund (yes, you read that right) mix became available through Alpha Dog Rescue, and has filled our lives with so much joy, happiness, snuggles, poop and chewed socks, it's incredible. Definitely the best decision we've ever made. Meet our baby Khaleesi, as in Mother of Dragons, or Khali for short.

Focused on food. Just like her momma.

That's kind of it in a nutshell. At least the big updates. 2015 has been a bit of a rough start, but it can really only go up from here, I think. The poor Mister has had it much worse than me. Between an abscessed tooth, an allergic reaction to Snuggle Fabric Softner (damn, that Snuggle Bear!) and most recently, a crippling cold/cough,

Now that we're all caught up on my life happenings, lets revisit that thing I mentioned that helped get me back on track. If It Fits Your Macros (IIFYM), or flexible dieting.

I first heard of IIFYM through @dallasrae on Instagram, who is a national bikini competitor and a HUGE fitspo for many women out there. Now, I am quite aware I will most likely never have her incredible physique, nor is that really my goal, but she posts lots of workouts, recipes, and inspirational content that help me through some tough days.

So when she started doing and talking about IIFYM, it interested me, because as you know bikini competitors typically have a pretty restrictive diet. But she was eating frozen yogurt, and pizza, and burgers! HOW?!

IIFYM allows you to incorporate those foods into your diet while still hitting your weight and fitness goals. It takes the "macro" components of everyone's diet - fat, protein, and carbohydrates - and balances them in a way that is conducive to your personal goals. In @dallasrae 's case, she uses it to bulk up, then lean and tone as it gets closer to competition time. In my case, I am primarily focusing on weight loss, so I utilize it in that way.

How can one program do ALL OF THIS, you ask?

There are a few different formulas for calculating IIFYM that are used, the most common is the Harris-Benedict. It takes into account your Basal Metabolic Rate (BMR), or calories burned per day at rest based on your height and weight, and your activity factor. So, for someone like @dallasrae who is constantly up in the gym workin' on her Fitness (heyyy, Fergie!) her IIFYM number is going to be MUCH different than my semi-sedentary, quasi-office job, 30 mins of cardio and light lifting maybe 3 times a week number.

When you use the Harris-Benedict formula, it calculates your caloric number for weight maintenance. From here, you can adjust accordingly based on your goals, which is why it works for literally EVERYBODY. There are a few apps out there to make it easier, if you're mathematically challenged like me. I use MacroCalculator and Macros, two apps both found on the GooglePlay store, but there are HUNDREDS out there. You can also simply Google IIFYM and a whole bunch of options come up.

Since starting IIFYM about three months ago, I have lost all of the holiday/hibernation weight I gained AND an additional 10 lbs or so. I say "or so" because since starting IIFYM, I have (almost) completely lost my obsession with the scale. Last time I checked, I was at 229, which is a full 51 lbs down from where I was September 2013. Most days, it's not about the scale anymore, it's about how I feel from day to day. For me, I know when I have a diet heavy in carbohydrates, I am sluggish and sick, and I gain wait fast and furiously. I calculated my number based on the Harris-Benedict formula, then selected a low-carb plan option to keep me feeling at my best. Not no-carb, like Atkins, because I also know that for my body, that only works as long as I keep it up, and eventually I binge and eat a whole loaf of bread or an entire pizza and it's all over.

My three meals a day consist of 40% proteins, 35% fats, and 25% carbs. This makes it easier for me to plan my meals accordingly, instead of just shooting for a calorie goal that leaves me trying to eat as many "bad" things as I can cram in before my calories are used up. I can actually visualize what each meal should look like on the plate based on my percentages, and being a spatial thinker, that sets me up for success. I picture it like a pie chart, or the plates with dividers you get as a kid. (Mine was a frog, I think.)

I am still new to this whole thing, so I might not be doing it "right", but for right now, it's working. I am always open to suggestions if someone has more knowledge, so please feel free to leave tidbits of wisdom in the form of comments. We are all here to help each other, and I am no exception to that rule.

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As her fingers flew across the keyboard, words appearing on the screen before her, something stirred in her chest that she hadn't felt in months. Fluttering wings beat against her ribcage, trying to escape. A smile crept to her lips, slowly at first, then spreading and splitting her face in two. Her frenzied typing continued as the bird attempted to fly, each passing moment causing it to flap harder and harder against it's cage. For the first time in a long time, she felt fully awake.

The frantic typing slowed to a stop. She inhaled deeply, poising her finger above the keypad for a final stroke, the bird in her ribcage fighting ferociously to fly. She closed her eyes, jabbed the keyboard one more time, and exhaled, feeling pride flow from her on the wings of a newly freed bird.

POST SUCCESSFUL.