Liberty 2.0

There is this idea that one needs to succeed in major life moments before the age of 40, and if you don't, it's too late.  You are too old, too fat, too slow, too boring, too established.  An old dog can't learn new tricks, right? Wrong. What people don't seem to realize, that after 40, one has access to reserves of wisdom, time, and experiences; armed with those things, we can do damn near anything we put our minds to.

(He is TOTALLY teachable!)

I was your typical middle aged, middle class, western obese house wife.  High-ish blood pressure, high blood sugar, sedentary, been on every diet out there with no success. I had been suffering from what I thought was either fibromyalgia or arthritis for 15 years already. I hurt every damn day, all day. I would wake up in tears, pop a few Advil and carry on with my day.  I couldn't walk up 1 flight of stairs without getting winded.  I would make my kids get something from the other side of the room so that I wouldn't have to haul my carcass to it's feet.  I loved sugar in all it's forms - bread, potatoes, candy, ice cream, chocolate, and 1-2 litres of coca cola to wash it all down (did I mention ice cream?) I was an amazing cook, and made the most amazing artisanal bread and homemade Mennonite noodles. I was a binge eater (major childhood trauma that I was self medicating for). I was miserable and in hell.

Every 6 months I would become determined that once and for all, I would lose all that weight and become skinny, and finally be happy and full of self love rather than self loathing. I tried Weight Watchers, Body for Life, Game On, I went Vegetarian, and flirted with Veganism.  My mantra was "Calories in/Calories out", and I memorized the Canada Food Guide. I would put myself through the insult of Zumba (if I hear another perky Blonde in lulu lemon pants yell 'Whoop!" one more time, I may just have to eat her), and leave at the end of class sobbing.  I would put myself through absolute hell and lose 20 lbs, and then find the process impossible to maintain and put 25 lbs back on; and then would try to assuage my self loathing by stuffing my face with all the foods I denied myself.  I was always hungry. I continued to do this from my early teens to the ripe old age of 45 where I woke up one morning and found myself at 297 lbs.  I was horrified.  But I was resigned that perhaps I would never ever be healthy or thin.

Perhaps I'll share the full photo when I'm ready...

And there was also the trauma of clothes shopping.  I'll save that special horror for another post.

Yup, that's Stonehenge

The kicker was this: I was a very successful business woman, I have a university education, I had traveled the world extensively, I had (have) a beautiful family with a loving and spectacular marriage of 25 years, I would live in the Whiteshell in the summers, and winter in the UK for almost a decade (while I was there, I had written/produced/performed a couple of successful plays in Scotland), I can do construction, I can shoot any gun handed to me, I could drive a bob cat, snowmobile, combine, or truck, I was a decent flautist for 30 years, and can play 5 different instruments. I was a good actress, sometimes great; and the list goes on.  I was the cat's meow.    However, because I was obese, I considered myself a failure in life.  Isn't that just mental?! The diet industry and glamour mags had successfully sunk their claws into me, and numpty that I was, I allowed it. Just rereading this, I feel a bit of an idiot.

My one bad ass photo when I was feeling alright about myself. - Photo credit by Bruce McLeod who is sadly no longer with us. RIP, Bruce. x

Fast forward to September 1, 2016, two months before my 45th birthday.  My Dad passed away that morning, and rather than grieving properly, I proceeded to binge eat for 4 days straight.  Some people get drunk, I gorged on junk food.  On September 4th I woke up feeling weird.  My breath was a little shakey, I felt sick all day, my eyes were a little blurry (it might have been all the crying in between stuffing my face).  I was terrified that I was having a heart attack, or in some sort of Diabetic episode. I looked in the mirror, and felt that I looked about 55 or 56 years old.  Double chin, sallow skin with bad acne, hair thinning.  Nasty RBF (resting bitch face).  I figured that if I continued on the way I was going I would be dead in about 5 years.  I felt old, ugly, and useless; I avoided exercise, avoided anything that required effort, avoided change. But that was exactly what I needed.  I was terrified of what I had become, and would continue to be.

My dear Sister-friend had been trying to get me to try this new diet that she'd had a great deal of success on.  She had several medical conditions, including PCOS, Chronic Pain/Fibro, bone spurs in the neck and spine, which all culminated in a weight of almost 350lbs.  She managed to control and mitigate all of that with a diet that she later called 'Modified keto'.  I thought it was inimical to everything I had ever been told by my doctors, nutritionists, crazy Zumba instructors, and just society in general.  Fat is healthy?  Meat is healthy?  That's just crazy talk!  However, as I watched my sister-friend drop 130lbs, manage her PCOS and become pregnant, manage her gestational diabetes, and reduce her pain medications considerably, I began to look at her way of eating in a different light.  So on that fateful day in September, I begged her to show me what she had been doing.

So she patiently walked me through a modified Ketogenic Diet, geared towards those folk who have a great deal of weight to lose.  Doctors have been prescribing Keto diets to people with cancer, Epilepsy, diabetes, and other diseases as a way to mitigate the symptoms.  There have been some studies (I will get into this all some other time) that have suggested that it's not fat that is making us fat and sick, but actually sugar, high fructose syrup, and starches.  The diet industry is making us fat and sick.

So I followed the modified diet to the T for 8 months.  I lost 64 lbs, it practically melted off.  My blood pressure went back to normal, I never suffered from blood sugar crashes, I never went hungry, and most importantly I started Brazilian Jiu Jitsu at Winnipeg Acadamy for Mixed Martial Arts (WAMMA).  Joining WAMMA changed my life in a profound way.  I started running (tho I've since stopped running, as it's still too much weight on my knees), and this year I started Kick Boxing.  I'm not great at either, but the sense of joy and accomplishment I derive from both is a revelation.

Last summer I had a set back.  I run a resort, and tend to put in long hours of work, ignoring my self care, and putting everything into the business.  So I put back on 25 pounds, due to eating shit again rather than precooking my food.  I've since lost 14 of those pounds.

I have lost my focus a couple of times this last winter, once when I had surgery to repair a huge umbilical hernia and couldn't exercise at all for a month, and in the last month, when I started back at the resort and started forgetting my self care.  It was suggested that I start a blog so that I can document how far I've come, and to help keep me on my path.  I am quite nervous about posting my intentions and goals on here (along with the photos).  They are personal, seem almost too grandiose for someone who is about to hit menopause, perhaps a little unrealistic.  However I have realized that I just don't give a shit how unrealistic my goals are.  I am determined to change myself in profound and great ways.

So my goal is this:  Get back on the Keto wagon.  Set aside attainable goals throughout the year that complement my bigger goals. I will share those goals in my next post when I've figured them out.

Me, February 2018 - 55 pounds down since September 01, 2016.