how did we get here?

Rachel, 4 days in.

So a few days ago we threw it out there and told you we were back. So, what happened exactly?

I think it was mid-holidays, we’d had a sugar-y treat nearly every hour around the Christmas clock. I know that we are not alone in this, it’s an international condition around this time of year. Anyway, my pants started feeling slim fit (even though they weren’t) and Ratchet kept asking if we should be making better decisions: less sweets, smaller portions, and how about a burger without a bun?

2 years ago we started down this road, but 6 – 8 months ago we went off-roading, and not in that super fun whooo-hoo sort of way. I made some job changes. I left one I loved, dearly. Grief consumed me, and I consumed pie. A lot of pie, and also, frites.

You know what sucks about weight gain? It just sneaks up on you. Honest to God, we both thought we were doing alright. I mean, not great, we could do better, but doing reasonably well. And maybe we were, by “normal peoples” standards. But lets get real, we’re not “normal” sized gals. (I’ll save expounding on that for a future post)

We were cooking fine for ourselves at home, our white rice is now brown, our milk is almond, we never ever make pasta anymore. We rarely have bread in the house, we still choose turkey and chicken over other delicious protein options. But slowly–a little at a time–infrequent treats were back. Dinners and brunch out, once maybe three times a week. Lindt sea salt chocolate squares after every (ok most) meal, ice cream was a staple over the summer months. Cinnamon puffins breakfast cereal–cripes–even typing it makes me crave a bowl of it. My father used to say “everything, in moderation.” But when you are an addict, addicted to something socially acceptable or not, its hard (impossible?) to discern where moderation ends.

comeAnyway, this is just a little bit of how we got here. It’s only my side of the story. Ratchet may have other things to say, most likely much different than mine. A whole lot of little things led us to this past Monday – start over day. But the good news is, now we are here. Present in this moment, in these choices, committed to new plans. We’ll share what they are in the next few posts.

I love this Rumi quote. It sums exactly where I am. You too maybe?

Join us.

ps – This post is far from perfect. But I’ve re-written this bitch 4 times now and I just want to put it out there. Its day 4 of no sugar and it’s just not pretty right now. There you have it.


Liar liar pants on fire

ImageRachel, having just met another goal

Ladies—especially you who don’t love what you look like—will you pull your drivers licence for me for a second? What does your drivers licence look like? Pay attention to the picture and the weight in particular.

Recently I’ve heard that most women embellish their IDs, something I thought was my own dirty little secret. In most things in life—money and time—I tend to round up, but not when it comes to my ID. Oh noooooo no no; here I round down, and by a fairly “healthy” margin too.

I think this fudging as my grandma Lu would call it started back when I was 15. I was trying to get into a 16+ teen nightclub. I borrowed a fake from someone I looked nothing like, my BFFs older sister. I memorized the information that would be presented to the bouncer: what age and astrological sign I was, where I lived and what kind of landmarks were in my neighborhood, where I went to school and on and on. I prepped and practiced my tale I would have to blurt out cool as a cucumber when confronted.

I have all my drivers licences I have ever been issued. I keep them in a little music box my mom gave to me when I was 16. I pull them out every once in a while to see where I have been both in weight and look, which is funny, because I know neither is portrayed accurately back as far as I can remember. But today, all that changed.

Today, I weigh what I told the DMV I weigh. What is the difference between 238 and 210? Well lets just say it is a lot more than 28 pounds.