Post Christmas Blues

So Christmas has come and gone.  And I'm feeling guilty.  And it's pissing me off.

My plan for eating over the holidays was simple.  No limits.  Simple as that.  I knew that the three family meals I was going to be at would have my most favorite foods.  I knew that the snacking table would be loaded with my favorite salty snacks.  I knew better than to say to myself Deny Deny Deny and then circle the drain of a shame cycle.

So I went with my eyes wide open, ready to enjoy three days of celebration with my families.  I made the decision to not deny myself.  I gave myself permission to ... well, there's no other way to put it except to say PIG OUT.

And, as it was, I didn't.

I snacked all day, but I wasn't stuffing snacks in by the fistful.  No, I grazed and not at a constant rate,  just every now and again.

I ate what I wanted at the meals, and damn the carbs.  But I was satiated after the first serving. So I stopped and did not stuff myself to the point of pain.  There was no feelings of scarcity or thoughts of "get it now while you can cause you don't know when you can do this again." I simply had enough.

I did not take leftovers home with me, despite my mother saying it would just spoil at her house (it won't; she'll freeze it). I knew that this freedom I'd allowed myself was limited.  Taking it home would have meant extending that freedom.

All in all, it was a good weekend.  I should be proud that I gave myself permission rather than scold myself for failing in the face of such temptation.  I should be proud that I stopped when I was satisfied and didn't keep eating for eating's sake.

But I'm not.  I am unhappy.  I'm in a shame cycle anyway.

And it pisses me off.

I gained 10 pounds according to the home scales.  Now, intellectually I know it is impossible to put 10 pound of fat on in a weekend.  I know it is water binding with all the carbs I ate to form the glycogen molecule.  I know it is the food as it's being, um, processed.  I know that it is the effect of my three days of permission...of going off program...of the very thing I made a clear and conscious decision to do.

But, damn.  10 pounds?

I hear the left hand side of the conversations in my head.  And he's laughing.  He makes me feel like I'm not taking it seriously.  Like I'm just doing it for show.  After all, I'm only three weeks out from recommitting to the program.

But that's his job, even when he's wrong.

So, enough.

The weekend is over and it cannot be changed.  I enjoyed myself as I wanted and allowed.  I know that these bad feelings will pass as time goes on.  I accept this pain and will not suffer.

I move forward.  I look back not by turning my head, but by looking through the rear view mirror. 

New Directions or What the heck am I doing?

This is going to be a long post. I considered breaking it up in several sections, but there never seemed to be a logical place to say “to be continued.” So you're getting it all in one dreary post.

It's been just over a week since I restarted the hospital weight loss program. I thought I'd write a bit about the program itself in more detail. I foresee that some of my future posts will include writing about my personal journey in this program. I wanted to give you all a glimpse as to what it is I'm actually doing and the support I get from the hospital as I go forward so you all have an idea of just what the heck it is that I'm talking about.

The New Directions program is designed, first and foremost, for the morbidly obese. It is not for those who have 10-20 pounds to lose. It is for those patients whose weight is seriously affecting their health.  There are risks, real risks, but those risks must be balanced against the risk of staying overweight. For me, there is the risk of becoming diabetic.  There is also damage being done to my heart because of my blood pressure right now, so getting the weight off is a very key component in stopping and possibly repairing that damage.

It is a low carb program. A patient starts off with 3 protein shakes a day, plus a lean meat and low carb vegetable for a meal (most choose supper). The goal is to stay below about 50 g of carbs a day. That is ridiculously low. But the goal is to get the body into ketosis.

Now, I don't claim to understand exactly what ketosis is, but I know diabetics avoid it like the plague It's when your body has used up most of the glucose in the muscles, the body starts burning the fat. It also starts burning muscle as part of the process, which is why protein is very important on this diet. The process also puts several different products in the bloodstream which, if unchecked, can damage the liver and kidneys.

(At this point, I am probably worrying my readers. Hang on...hear me out.)


It is important to drink 64 to 108 oz of water a day to flush the waste from the blood and keep the kidneys functioning. That, plus 2/3 of the glucose molecule is water, it means you're in the restroom a lot. The program makes use of the body's own process of using the fat stores but turning it up to eleven.

That's how I understand the process as it happens in the body. And I'm sure I have greatly simplified it.

Now, the program is done in the hospital. There is a health screening before one is accepted. It is directed by a nurse practitioner, overseen by a cardiologist/internist, and has a staff of registered dieticians (I prefer that spelling), personal trainers and two other nurse practitioners. Once a month the patient meets with a NP for essentially a health check up, just as one might see a doctor for a health and wellness checkup. Labs are drawn every month for 6 months to keep an eye on the kidney and liver. After 6 months, if there no indications of problems, labs are drawn every other month.

Now, to the meat and potatoes of it all, so to speak. Once a week the patient checks in. Weight and blood pressure is measured. This is when the patient purchases the shakes. The patient then meets with someone on the staff, usually the dietician, to go over the week prior. We review what we did for exercise and how often. We talk about problems encountered, feelings of success and failure, answer questions the patient might have and so on. It is also the time the staff asks questions geared to elicit information about the patient's general health and the director is notified if there is any change in health.

After the review, the patient attends class. These are real, in-depth classes covering nutrition, exercise, general health and emotional health. The last was always difficult because I feel the emotional connection to food is soooooo deep, it really can't be addressed in a group setting. Plus, the speaker has some woo woo ideas that I just couldn't always buy into, but more often than not was extremely helpful. Participation in the classes are mandatory if the patient wants to continue. However, some patients, like me, have been through the curriculum several times. These patients get excused from class if the director is comfortable that we “get it.”

Once the patient reaches his or her goal, maintenance begins. The patient works with a dietician to ween off the shakes and on to real food, using the lessons learned in class and specific work to the situations that arise. This goes for at least 6 months minimum. After that, the patient comes in for a checkup once a month for 6 months. If the patient is still maintaining the loss, he or she comes in once a quarter for a year. Then the patient is asked to come in twice a year after that.

Once you're in the program, you're in for life (or so long as the hospital funds the program). One can visit any class after the weight loss, purchase the products, meet with a dietician or nurse practitioner as needed or just simply call in if one needs a little encouragement.

I know some of you are skeptical of shake based programs. I was too. But the medical supervision, the educational component and the accountability has removed a lot of that skepticism for me. Eighty percent of their patients have maintained their weight-loss a year after meeting their goal. That was a statistic I couldn't ignore. If it hadn't been necessary for me to quit midstream last fall, I have no doubt that the transition to maintenance would have happened.

I'm NOT sure it would have been successful though.

I had a lot of work to do in self acceptance, self love and accepting & understanding emotional connections to food. In many ways I look at the last year as a time to work on these aspects without the stress of weight-loss I am much more confident restarting the program because of this work. And I have my readers and fellow bloggers to thank for that. I would not be at this point to begin anew if it hadn't been for your encouragement and understanding.

That's it in a nutshell.  Later I'll write about my personal adaptation to this program.  It isn't quite a severe as the description above sounds.

Ask me any questions you might have. I'm going to add a link to my email somewhere on the blog if you don't want to ask via a comment.  I believe in this program.  That in itself will take me a long way towards success.

I am fat me

“Imagine that you hate the color purple.  Then imagine that you move to a house where your room is purple. If you refuse to accept that the room is purple, you will never paint it a color that you want.”

A basic tenet of Buddhism is that life is painful.  Not accepting that truth is what causes suffering.  I’ve been doing a lot of work over the last 3 years or so to come to grips with this thing called Radical Acceptance.  I still don’t know if I’m getting it right, but it is accepting that things are as they are and I can’t change it.  It means riding out that pain, experiencing it, living with it until such time that the pain diminishes or the situation changes in ways that I can change it.  But refusing to accept the pain is pain squared or suffering. 

The little illustration quoted above is a neat little summation of both suffering and radical acceptance.

I’m not a Buddhist, but I believe there is wisdom to be found in its teachings. There’s a lot that goes with it.  Mindfulness, being present, letting go of the past, realizing that the future is equally intangible.  It’s really hard.  Even harder to sum up in a blog post. And I don’t understand half of it. 

I am fat.  If I refuse to accept that I am fat, I will never be in a position to change it.

See, there’s still a part of me that refuses to accept that.  Sure, I’ve given it lip service.  I’ve worked very hard at forgiving myself for getting into this situation, but I’ve not really accepted the fact that I am back at square one.  In the back of my mind, I still regard myself as a healthy skinny person that’s “put on some weight” despite all the evidence to the contrary.  It’s a coping belief; it’s a lie to get me through the day without a crushing feeling of shame and pity.  Because of this delusion, I am suffering.  I am conflict between what is and what I tell myself is.  That conflict is causing me to suffer and is a stumbling block.

So, my friends, let me state again that I am fat.  And unhealthy.  And I will continue to be fat and unhealthy until such time that I am not fat unhealthy.  I will do my best to not deny this truth in any form of self delusion or rationalization.  And I will fail.  And after I fail, I will start again.

“Fighting reality causes suffering (I hate this room).  Sometimes people get so caught up in hate that they don’t change things.  First, accept the purple-ness of the room, and then paint it.”

It’s time to paint my fat, unhealthy purple room a different color.

(I wish I knew who to credit for the quote.  I got it from an article by Brent Menninger here, but it’s unclear to me if he is the author)

This is my real life

When I awoke today
Suddenly nothing happened
But in my dreams
I slew the dragon
And down this beaten path
And up this cobbled lane
I'm walking in my own footsteps once again


And you say,
"Just be here now
Forget about the past
Your mask is wearing thin"
Let me throw one more dice
I know that I can win
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

~Colin Hay "Waiting for my real life to begin"

I have long enjoyed this song by Colin Hay.  Essentially it's a story of a man (I assume) who continually waits for that one thing to happen that will turn everything around for him--winning the lottery, get rich quick schemes, etc.  Meanwhile another person in his life (a wife? certainly someone who loves him) implores him to start living now.  It's a story I'm guessing many relate to.  This week it resonated with me like a church bell up close.

I'm not a guy who is waiting for many of his dreams to come true.  I have a good job and a mostly successful career.  I am happily married and am thoroughly enjoying the dad thing.  I have a roof over my head.  I have worked very hard to understand my life and to love those around me.  Sure I daydream of being financially independent and incredibly handsome.  What I'm saying is, my life is pretty much what I've wanted and I am slowly becoming the man I had always hoped to be.  I've not waited for my life to begin.

 Except...

It struck me last week just how much I've been planning all my married life that my wife would be the healthy one.  She is the nurse who knows about healthy living and stuff.  She knows nutrition.  She was an athlete in high school and is much more active than me.  She was the one that was going to stay healthy and be there with my kids and grandkids should anything happen to me.  I took comfort in that.  Too much comfort.  

It's another nugget in this whole weightloss, healthy living, emotional eating thing I got going on here.  It was the assurance that if anything happened to me, my wife would be there for my family.  And I wasn't fully aware of this nugget, just as I am unaware of so much about why I am the way I am and do the things I do.  I didn't need to take my health as serious as my conscious mind told me.  My unconscious mind believed this secret knowledge.

Two weeks ago we received the news I've shared previously about my wife's diagnosis of Lupus.  We've since learned that the doctor's diagnosis is quite preliminary; that she doesn't have the expertise to diagnose it correctly.  It is still very likely to be Lupus, though it may be any of a number of auto-immune and connective tissue disorders.

Whether or not it is Lupus and whether or not it is terminal in the long or short term, I became painfully aware that there is every possibility that it will be me surviving.  I hope that with the grace of the universe that she and I will spend the next 50 years together, but I can't count on it as I once did.  And that is probably the hardest thing I have ever forced myself to write on this journal.

I realize now that there are parts of my life that I've been waiting to begin.

"Just be here now, forget about the past, the mask is wearing thin."

I have a whole life to look forward to.  With my wife.  With my children.  And if the universe is gracious enough, with my grandchildren.  How selfish of me to put all that unconscious pressure on my wife to be the healthy one.  I have not been a true partner in this regard. But I am learning. The past is past.  I've said that often in this blog.  It's time to move forward.

 

(Lest anyone think that this post is moribund and I am melancholy and despondent, the truth is I am thankful for this insight.  How wonderful is it that I still have a chance to regain my health?!? I have been searching for a reason to live a healthy life beyond the vague feeling that I should want to.  I have found it.  I have already lost 10 pounds in the last month. I am experiencing what I believe many people call Joy.)

Admitting Things

I've been avoiding writing this post for some time. I've been avoiding it because I really don't want to write another whiny diatribe about how life is hard and how I've been failing. I don't want to bore you all who are kind enough to stop by. But more than that, I don't want to admit it to myself and I don't want to see it in words.

When I look back through my posts, I am amazed at what I have written, what I have figured out and what I have forgotten. I'm a pretty with it kind of guy, when I remember to be a with it kind of guy. I've made some real insight into the emotional connections I have with food.

It's also clear that I am depressed. For the last 18 months I've dealt with a falling out with a pastor and the end of his friendship, the heart crushing months of watching my wife fall into severe mental illness and the loss of her income, my own demons and the shame of gaining all my shed weight back, plus another 20. I've dealt with a new position with the library, and now I get to report that I am losing that position due to severe budgetary cuts (I will not be out of a job, however...at least for now). And lately I have the task of deciding who on my staff will receive cuts in their hours. Raising kids, paying bills, and all the other “normal” stress anyone lives through has certainly not made living through the trials of the last year and a half any easier.

For this whole period, I knew I was depressed. I thought it was situational as I certainly had reasons to be stressed, anxious and depressed. But looking back, I think it is clear to me know that I have been mired in a true depressive episode triggered by my situation, but rooted in my illness. I've been here before. I've been on medication for nearly 20 years now, but most of the time it is merely maintenance, not catching up and knocking it down.

I am proud that through all the ordeals of the recent past, I kept it together, got things done, cared for my spouse and kept it from deeply affecting my job. However, now that she is better, I find myself falling apart. I expected the stress to go away once she recovered and once she found employment. What I find is that in releasing that stress, I am releasing the energy that had kept all the cracks closed.

A few weekends ago, I worked a Saturday shift at the branch library. When I came home, I found myself in the middle of a battle of wills between my wife and our teenaged son. And I lost it. Somewhere between trying to mediate a peace and being a parent, I broke down. I was making a toasted cheese sammich. And I gasped a terrifying breath in. I had been fighting tears and fighting feelings of losing control, but I could not do that anymore. In the middle of the kitchen, standing in front of the stove, I sobbed. Uncontrollably. I made it to the bedroom, and kept sobbing for what seemed like a half hour with my wife comforting me.

Afterward, we had a family meeting. My kids had never, ever seen me cry (except during sappy periods of movies). I had frightened them. I think they feared I had gone ill as their mother had a year ago. I don't know. The point is, we talked about not just “it” but about a whole lot of things. Of my wife's illness and recovery. Of her new job. Of our worries for the kids. Of their worries for us.

I'd like to say that everything was sunshine and lollipops after that. To a large degree, things were better. My son, especially, felt free to speak what was on his heart and broke down some of those walls. But for myself, not much has changed, except the realization that my depression is not rooted only in my situation in life...I need help. I'm getting it, though the wait time to get in to see a doctor is long.

In the meantime, the weight continues to pile on. I'm working very hard at not hating myself for it, but the way I'm feeling makes that pretty impossible from time to time.

I was reminded, however, that one of the central tenets of the Buddha is that life is painful. Not accepting that truth is what causes suffering. Spending all of my energy trying to avoid accepting the truth of my condition in my physical, mental, emotional, spiritual spheres is causing me to suffer. Perhaps right now is not the time to work on weight loss but instead work on getting my inner house in order.

I am a large man. No amount of blogging, talking, worrying or wishing changes the fact that at this moment in my life I am fat and unhealthy. I must accept that so the suffering can stop. And, hopefully, the healing begin.

Stop, in the name of love

First things first, I haven't been able to poke around at other people's blogs.  The stable is still a bit unstable and I just haven't had the time to really reflect on myself or visit my friend's blogs.  Mrs. C is finishing up her treatments and the results have been stunning.  She was offically let go yesterday, but she actually applied for a job at the same place of employment that starts mid to end of Novemember....so here's hoping.  In the meantime, I hope to get to some other's blogs and catch up.

Now for what's really been on my mind.  


All day today a phrase has been stuck in my head: "The Clydesdale Jogger loves himself too much to eat that chocolate chip cookie." Yes, there are times I think in third person.

I'm not sure where the phrase came from, but I'm glad it has popped up.  For one thing, my mother in law is staying with us while Mrs. C is recovering and she makes excellent baked goods.  For another, it has been flexible enough to hold on to and get through the impulsive cravings that I have.  While the phrase remains chocolate chip cookies, it came up when I considered the bowl of candy corn on N's desk, or the chocolate in the reference department, or stopping by McDonald's for a nasty cheezburger (because who would know?  I can throw the evidence away in the dumpster alley before I go in to administration for a meeting). But, dammit, Clydesdale Jogger loves himself too much to eat these things. 

Hopefully this device will help at least in the short run.  What sort of devices have you all found useful?

But oh that magic feelin'...

I'm gettin' that antsy feeling.  The one you get when you know you're finally approaching the decision you know you want to make but for whatever reason you avoid it.  The one where you say to yourself, 'time to get healthy' and know you actually mean it this time.

I'm getting there.

Mrs. C's new regimen is doing wonders.  I cannot believe the improvement we are experiencing in only a week's time after 3 months of illness--spirit crushing illness.  The atmosphere in the stable is palpably lighter and there is laughter.  And I feel renewed.

Much of what brought so much stress in the last half of '09 through the fall of '10 has finally found its way to closure--and the friendship that was lost no longer troubles me.  I know it's a bit cryptic, but no one enjoys it when a friendship disintegrates, especially if it was for circumstances beyond one's control; especially if it needed to happen to protect one's boundaries.  I will need to live with the knowledge that the other party places the overwhelming majority of the problem at my feet and will never consider his own failure.  But given our last chance encounter, I find myself untroubled.  That chapter is closed.

Life certainly ain't perfect and I do have problems focusing on the goal.  I did stop by the 7-11 for chips and dip, knowing it was a mistake.  But it feels like my subconscious is trying to get in a few last hurrahs.

This isn't a "well, I'll start tomorrow" kinda thing knowing tomorrow never comes.  I'm not sure when I will start.  But I feel like the knots in life are unraveling and the clarity is returning.

Quick Thoughts

What Works:

• --Planing the day.  Deciding either what I will have for each meal or have a plan on how to approach the day's nourishment.  Could be an actual menu, could be an understanding of what will and will not be acceptable.
• --Exercise.  Feels great when I'm done.  Gives me a sense of accomplishment.  I find it motivating to occasionally tweet or put a status on FB saying I plan to run/bike/walk etc and ask for someone to volunteer to follow up the next day and inquire if I accomplished it.  Need to do that more often.
• --Talking to family and friends.  Not necessarily about health and nutrition.  Just being engaged.  Need to try to stay on the positive, but it's nice to know there are those I can unload on if need be.
• --Meditate.  Or prayer.  Or what have you.  I succeed more when I stay in what I've learned to call Wise Mind, as opposed to Emotional Mind.  It is a hard balance and Emotional Mind is very powerful.  It cannot be ignored nor can Wise Mind solve every problem.  But Wise Mind can give direction to Emotional Mind's potential.

What Doesn't Work:

• --Grazing.  I keep thinking just one more snack will satisfy, but it never does.
• --Eating to settle the stomach.  This one really doesn't make sense, but I often eat because I feel nauseous and think that a little something will settle things down.
• --Broad Accountability.  I find myself to still be a paper tiger.  What I pour out here is shaded and not the complete truth, though I continue to strive to be more honest with myself and, thus, with you.  That said, I have tried to hold myself accountable to groups of friends, but ultimately I am missing being accountable to myself.  Narrow accountability, like I described above in the exercise bullet, works very well.
• --Mind games.  I can justify everything I eat even though I know I am killing myself.
• --Couch Potato.  I don't feel as good as I do when I am regularly exercising.

These are today's thoughts.  Who knows what my list would look like next week, next month or next year.  Anyone else have suggestions of what does or doesn't work for you?

A man and his plan

I have only got in one run since that 5K two Saturdays ago.  I plan on rectifying that tonight.  I really don't know why I procrastinate on running when I know that A) it's good for me 2) I feel good when I'm done and thirdly, it gives me a moment to clear my head.  And, right now, that head clearing is what I need more than anything.

I've tiptoed around my wife's illness because I didn't think it appropriate to share in such a public place.  But I think now I will share that her problems are centered in the area of mental health.  Depression and anxiety disorders are real and they are painful.  The stress in the stable is underpinned with a overwhelming sense of hopelessness.  This is definitely true for her, but equally true for myself.  If she had a broken leg, I'd know what to do.  If she had cancer, I'd learn what to do.  With mental health disorders, there is NOTHING I can do but support, comfort and journey with her.  And that never seems like enough.  A large part of the stress is being an advocate to the different medical institutions (hate that word) and keeping them on the ball.  It doesn't help that I, too, struggle with depression though not to such a debilitating degree. Or does it? I think what I'm getting at is there is very little I can do to help her heal other than provide a safe place to be.

With this in mind, I am not surprised in the least in my struggle with emotional eating.  What I struggle with the most is impulse control.  I can plan all I want, but when I walk into the kitchen and my MIL (who is a rock and I love dearly) has baked a dozen cookies...it isn't pretty.  I have found myself almost in a literal daze as I enter the gas station and purchase chips, dip and a diet soda.  I know at every turn I have the power to chose otherwise, but the id, the unrelenting drive underneath the conscious mind, is powerful.

I will run tonight.  I will exercise Wise Mind in an effort to control my impulses.  And should I falter, I will not shame myself for my weakness, but I will reflect on how I could have done better.  And, these aren't goals.  I've learned not to share goals (really.  I gave up soda for two weeks largely because I didn't tell anyone I was giving it up).  It is my plan and that will be good enough for now.

Paper Cuts

I've been poking around at other blogs and discovering many wonderful people struggling with the same things I struggle with.  It has been a thrill to know I am not alone and I have enjoyed the comments and support I receive here on The Jogging Clydesdale.  Recently I came across The Anti-Jared and I just stopped in my tracks.  In particular, his post I am a food addict has had me thinking for many days.

He says many of us are paper tigers when it comes to facing our unhealthy ways.  I admit it.  I touched upon it in my post This is Bullsh*t (though I didn't know it had a name).  And it was that post that got JackSh*t's attention, put me in touch so many other wonderful people and started me on this resurgence of blogging and getting geared up to fit my health battles again.

But...I am still a paper tiger.  I bluster a lot, both here and in real life, about my diet and my running.  I know what needs to be done but I often believe I lack the skill, the will, the drive or the knowledge to really kick it into gear.

I admit that I am still unwilling to really believe I can do this.

I am a food addict.  I wish food were just fuel that sometimes tastes good.  No, food is comfort.  Food is love.  Food is satisfaction.  Food is distraction.  Food is shame.  Food is joy.  Food is a reflection of emotions.  Food is celebration.  Food is family.  Food is a gift that you share with yourself and with others to show that you care.

Food takes away the pain and the emptiness.  But only for a moment.  And then that moment is gone.

And I write these things knowing full well that it is lies.  Food is none of these things, but it is how I experience food everyday.  Each and every day I eat because of one of these things I list or several dozen equally false reasons I haven't listed.  Rarely do I eat because I am hungry.  Rarely is it because I need fuel.

Currently my wife is very sick and in a lot of anguish.  She lost her job after exhausting her medical leave of absence.  The stress is intense and having to take care of the family, the house, keep my own job and all the other things normal life throws at you is difficult enough.  Having to drop out of a structured weight loss program I believed in (though haven't faithfully followed for quite awhile) was a blow.  My structure is gone.  Food has become again all the things I was convinced I had put behind me.

I am a paper tiger.  I am a food addict.  I am feeling lost.

But I am not alone.

In addition to all the new friends I have met through this blog, I have many IRL friends and family who have said they are willing to walk this journey with me.  Not just the food, but the journey of life that has been gifted to me.  I have family, both from my side and my wife's, willing and able to help out in the house.  My MIL is here and plans to stay for another 6 weeks or longer to help us and to take care of her daughter so I can keep everything else together.  I have friends I can talk to, in person, on the phone and in the internets.

I still don't know how to answer Jack's challenge to answer "why I do this here."  But with every post here at TJC and with every day's meditation, I hope to get closer to that answer.

I really am a paper tiger and I am addicted to food and all the lies it has become.  That said, paper tigers can grow teeth and lies can be countered with truth.  And addictions can be overcome.

Tomorrow Tonight is as good as any to start the teething pain.

The Expanding Clydesdale

So, we've all been there.  Stress so overwhelming and food so comforting.  It has not been an easy week.  My stress eating has been rather controlled, but today I am losing it. 

Because of a reduction of income, I've needed to drop out of my medically supervised "rapid" weight loss program at the hospital.  I just can't afford the $80/week in supplements and classwork or the $65/mo medical check in any more.  And I really miss the weekly encouragement and having someone to talk to.  So I guess Clydesdale Jog will be evolving into my place to check in and talk about wellness far beyond just running.

So here are the stats.  In August 2008 I started the program at 310 lbs and did no exercise.  By May 2009, I had lost 50 pounds and started running on the Couch to 5K program.  By August I had lost another 15 pounds, but in September I started a medication garunteed to put on the weight.  20 pounds in that month.  It was during that time that events around me started exploding and the stress has been continuous since then.  I am now back to 285.  But I run and I am more mindful of what I eat.  Having met this online group of bloggers, I feel a certain accountability to MYSELF that I haven't felt in over a year.

Thanks to all of you who have dropped by and left comments.  It has been more helpful than you know.