 Two years ago today, I started this journey on a stage for all of you to see. It was a moment of vulnerability and a plea for accountability to save me. So many times I’d started and failed—working in secret. I knew using my platform to share my plans with all of you could possibly be the only way I wouldn’t quit.
Two years ago today, I decided the complacency I’d demonstrated for far too long needed to end as I navigated a new world of forward progress, determination. TWO YEARS. It can feel like so far in the future, but it barely seems possible two years have passed. Knowing I wanted to document my “obesiversary,” I scrolled the archives and started from the beginning. I can honestly say I barely recognized the voice in those first few entries. Not because I was any less fantastic or snarky back then! It was actually more challenging settling back into that broken brain of food compulsion and misery that really took me back. While some of the thought processes from two years ago still fill my reality, I suppose I didn’t realize I have started letting some of them go. One of the old entries that had the greatest response from readers was one I wrote called, “iTS a Control Issue” on 10/13/22. I explained the origin (in my opinion) of my constant need for control (though, arguably genetically-enhanced). I’m going to share an excerpt for context here: “When we go out to dinner, you laugh when I control where I sit. I'm calculating the route to the exit and the bathroom. Can I fit as I weave through tables? Can I fit in a booth? Will I block the servers' path if I'm seated at a table in the middle of the room? Will my shirt roll up exposing my granny panties if I have my back to the other patrons? Okay, so if that table fills with a high chair, how do I get out after we pay the bill? Will I have to ask someone to move? Will I have to "suck in" or walk sideways to sliiiiide through a space that was never meant for my 324 pounds? And within how many seconds of starting my meal will I drop my first sauce/crumb/food chunk on my tiny little chest (kidding--it's gigantic)? Will people see me wipe it off or can I be subtle? Me. Subtle. ;) You laugh when I ask for tasks to be done in a certain order. I'm trying to ensure my order of operations is nearly on autopilot. What if I look incompetent? What if I stumble through the sequence and my face flushes and then I stumble and then I'm sweating and then someone just thinks I'm stupid or lazy to go along with being fat? What if it all makes me lose credibility in an industry where I'm already proving myself everyday. "I PROMISE I know what I'm doing even if I don't look like I've ever participated in an athletic event in my life." You laugh when I ask to go to the same vacation spot every year. It was a safe space I found at 13 years old. It was the first time I could walk around in a swim suit and bare feet without a care in the world. It was the first time we didn't travel with the rest of Owensboro to PCB where I would inevitably hide in my room or avoid invites for play dates. It's a connection I made that made me forget, if even for just two weeks at a time. I know the terrain. I know the physical expectations of the trip. I know the layouts of all my favorite restaurants and acceptable dress codes. I know how to maneuver my body through the town without getting caught in a situation I can't resolve.” Since I penned those words, I’ve challenged myself to loosen the restraints of my control. I’ve traveled to Canada, explored Niagara Falls, walked the strip in Vegas, spent nine hours straight at Universal riding every ride I could, and trekked through Mammoth Cave. PROGRESS GOES BEYOND THE SCALE. I may have gotten to a point where I thought most of those issues were resolved, but just this weekend, I felt the flush of anxiety rising because I spent over 20 minutes trying to figure out my escape plan from Rash Stadium. (For the record, I hate it. The step downs from the bleachers are too steep and the distance between them too wide. And somehow they’ve managed to make it even more uncomfortable than a standard bleacher set, but moving on…) My husband saw my panic before I voiced it. I knew he was ready to go early in the 3rd, but I said I needed one more E.H. TD before I was leaving (I was also buying time to figure out how to get out). As soon as I said, “I’m going to start thinking what will be easiest, please give me a minute…” He responded, “I already did that. If you turn around behind you, you can get your feet under you there and I’ll help you stand. I’ll help you.” I argued he was wrong. That his method was no different than me standing from the floor and he’d never helped me stand from the floor, so why did he think he could do it now. I voiced two other shitty alternative routes (remember, I’m not willing to walk over someone’s lap either) and he just let me talk. E.H. got his magical 4th TD (totally worth staying for, btw) and I knew I couldn’t hold off anymore. The dogs were home alone all night and we needed to get going. So I did what he suggested. Within seconds we were walking down the steps and out of the gate. No falls. No trips. No grunting to navigate the terrain. I panicked because I went back to me from two years ago and forgot who I am today. (Ugh. Fine, I’ll admit we did it HIS way and he was ri…um, he was ri… no, I can’t say it.) Two years ago today I weighed 324 pounds. Today, I am 100 pounds down. (As of two days ago, I hit the triple digit loss) I lost 100 freaking pounds. Along the way, I’ve taken breaks from my efforts, I’ve had successful months and very slow months. I’ve taken a slower approach to work on sustainability as much as anything. After most of this journey consisting of me NOT following the recommendations I tell others, the last eight weeks have included an experiment called “Follow Your Own Advice” and man, I really am as smart as I say. 😆 I cook often (not like meals I wanna share with a table of friends, but protein-packed, whole-food meals that are more fuel than entertainment). I pay attention to protein and water like we tell all our clients to do. I’ve nearly tripled my monthly weight loss these last two months from where I was averaging the previous six. Not because I’m eating less. Not because I increased med dosage. Not because I skipped the sweets. I didn’t do any of those things at all. I simply planned, carved 3-6 minutes to prep my food source rather than DoorDash it, and only ate junk if I was still craving it AFTER I hit my protein target. Quick FAQ I get weekly:
Thank you for coming along with me and being my accountability partners even if you didn’t know it. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for all of you who read, text, call, visit, and join the journey yourselves. Let’s keep going. Cheers, K
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 I was 11 years old the last time I read that sign. (This was way back in the 1900s, of course.) I still remember being really anxious about getting to that part of the Mammoth Cave tour without any real understanding of what the limiting parameters might be. It wasn’t my first time in the cave—I feel like that may have happened somewhere around a 4th grade field trip—but I did recall a confining, winding pathway I’d encounter and I was terribly nervous I’d humiliatingly get stuck. In hindsight, this is another one of my dramatic, intrusive thoughts, but for 6th grade me it was as real as the Mt. Dew I’d just drank. Was it possible I wouldn’t be able to navigate the passage? The park ranger read from his notes stating participants “should carefully consider their limitations” as the paths become very narrow, require crouching down, climbing hundreds of stairs, etc. and I was convinced my size was a real threat to my participation. (I made it just fine in case you were on the edge of your seats waiting to hear how that turned out. No one pointed and laughed. Nothing traumatic happened. I probably just had a mild panic attack that I couldn’t even identify that many years ago.) Recently, with the weight loss journey (oh, if I haven’t mentioned it, I’ve been on quite the journey over the last—nearly—two years), I’ve been a lot more active on our farm, a lot more productive around the house, not to mention the physicality of what I do for work. I decided it was time to try to face Mammoth again. Was I ready? This time, the fear of not surviving it was just as intense and real as it was when I was 11. Of course, now, I’m significantly larger, older, and depleted—so it made a bit more sense this round. I started doing what I do. I read tons of reviews from fat people online. I was trying to decide if it was feasible or if it was something I should put off for another few months. I decided it was time. I chose the River Styx Cave Tour. Per the website: “Following along the Historic Tour Route, this tour focuses on the unique geologic and natural history of Mammoth Cave. Including a brief side trip to the underground water level, this tour takes an in-depth look at the millions of years of formation of Mammoth Cave. This tour is ideal for visitors with a high interest in geology. Please use extra caution when visiting the river level. To access this section of the cave the tour leaves modern tour trail to uneven terrain that may be wet, muddy, and/or slick. The tour route travels next to bodies of water, some of which can be very deep depending on river levels. Viewing of this area will also be conducted with electric lanterns and not the modern lighting system on the rest of the route.” Duration: 2.5 hours Distance: 2.5 miles Total Stairs: 600+ Difficulty: Moderate Ages: 6 year and older… Right after we went to the cave’s “basement” and were sitting on benches, returning lanterns, and prepping for the last leg of the tour, I was feeling ridiculously arrogant—and skinny. The walk was so slow and the breaks for geology lessons (sorry, don’t care) were natural rests, so I started to question how this was deemed “moderate” difficulty. Then we resumed. I still had to navigate the 200 steps of Mammoth Dome—climbing straight up and feeling my lungs crying for the easy oxygen intake they craved. My legs were seriously liquifying and contemplated just completely shutting down on me. I hated my stupid idea and I felt like I was back to 324 pounds again. But I made it to that last step and started to feel accomplished. Right up until I realized I still had a steep incline for the next 15 minutes and I hated everyone again. Seriously, everyone. So anyway, I made it. It shouldn’t have been as hard as it was, but it was. I have a long way to go before I can really feel proud of my physical accomplishments, but for now—yay! I didn’t die. My hammies are tight and I have shin splints. So, don’t mind me while I whine about it for a couple more days. I’m glad I went and I’m determined to keep trying things that make me scared. Throughout my life I’ve turned down countless invitations for outings that were intimidating because of my size. I’ve not experienced enough off the TV screen and that needs to change. What should I do next? Just remember, I do need some of these small victories to fuel my confidence for more adventure. What would you try as a little challenge to yourself? Cheers, Your favorite spelunker 😆 I’ve been known to lose the battle with my temper more than a few times over the years. A more accurate statement would highlight this short-fused, explosive response system as trademark level. I like to think I simply get frustrated with lack of critical thinking and complacency, but regardless of its root cause, it’s an issue I’ve monitored, evaluated, and often improved in my older years (eh, most of the time). Honestly, I was on such a good streak before these last several weeks, that I almost forgot what an angry asshole I can be—but here we are. Trying to work logistics with multiple players/vendors/institutions takes a level of orchestration my brain couldn’t handle. Everything starts short-circuiting, the emails get snarkier, the language gets a bit explicit, and the tantrum is locked and loaded. You hear about the broken shoe string sending you over the edge? My broken string (my minor inconvenience) was ESPN+ on Saturday afternoon. My Ole Miss Rebels were banished to streaming only, so naturally (to avoid late panic) I wanted to be sure I was set up and ready to watch in time for 6:00 kick-off. I even went as far as to watch a little Mississippi State (gross) while waiting for them to open the stream for my game—to further ensure everything was good to go. At 5:58, they finally gave me the go ahead only to say I needed to log-in. Then my password for YouTubeTV wasn’t working (even though it’s saved in Google). So then I tried via Hulu and it said my email didn’t have an account (funny, they charge my acct every month and send the receipt to that email). At this point I am screaming obscenities and throwing things in the Game Room that should 100% be embarrassing enough for me to never tell anyone about. In walks Tony trying to take over. No, husband, you don’t even know my passwords so go away. I start crying while I’m screaming (no, no—not at him—just at the TV). I’m going between my iPad, phone, and TV and throwing a fit that it’s approaching 6:07. At 6:08, I’m in. My game is on. And I rewind to the beginning because I LIKE the beginning. Tony came back to ask if everything was okay and I teared up again when I said, “I don’t know where that came from and I couldn’t control it. I’m really sorry.” ”I know.” He said. “It’s okay; you’re okay.” I am fairly (certainly) confident I’ve never apologized for something like that before that day. This gets to count as progress, I think? I also recognized that I am far from okay right now. I spend so much time trying to matter, to be good enough. I have to work on better management of this energy. I have to know I’m trying and doing all I can do and I can only accomplish so much alone and within a certain timeframe. I have to know no one else has my perspective or my goals (though, sometimes I wonder if others are hitting copy + paste on my goals 🙄) and everyone else is just out there doing what they can do—even if it doesn’t fit my preferred pace. In my efforts to get outside and get out of my head, yesterday and today I spent hours at our new “farm” where I hope to one day build (though if you want to get me started on the number of people who refuse to return phone calls or get back with you to even get the pole barn shop phase started, I can guarantee another emotional breakdown). I decided my new hobby of “farmhand” was going to be the perfect way to level my head—nothing like manual labor and exhaustion to take away the fight in a person, right? I actually did hard things (like for real, I’m not just making that up to be funny), but the anxiety stayed barely under the surface and was on my mind throughout every task. Then my husband told me to put the fence post in a different place. My spot apparently wasn’t good enough for the whole 3 minutes it was going to sit there. And I was crying behind his back as if none of the hard work had made a difference in my mood at all. I think this means I have a long way to go, but these last (nearly) two years have been all about the journey of change. Tomorrow is another chance to start again and wake up as the pleasant little gal I know I can be. 😆 **All of this to say, I just have to keep knocking down some barriers and dealing with incompetent persons in positions they don’t deserve, but the new things ahead will inevitably make it all worth it, I think.** For now, I’ll focus on this gorgeous land and not let the months of work it needs deter me from enjoying the view (because let me tell ya, I found a pic that hides all the junk at the perimeters to make this photo look better). Oh, and if you stopped in thinking we were going for a weight loss update, I’m down 96.4 pounds. Hopefully, my next post is 100. Do you have a temper, too? You trying to hold that in or are we just letting it fly? Cheers, Kalin   525,600 minutes.
In daylights? In sunsets? In midnights? In cups of coffee? Okay, if that song isn’t living RENT free in your head at this point, I’ve completely failed my main objective today. iTS been a year on this journey (I was supposed to sit and write this a week ago) with semaglutide. How do I measure a year? I’ve lost 70 pounds. I’ve lowered my blood pressure. I’ve lowered my cholesterol. Honestly, my full panel of lab work has improved. Is that how I will measure my year? Surely I have something else to show for my time. I have more dogs than I did a year ago (10/10 do NOT recommend). I have a new car since last year (I don’t really care about that, I don’t think.) My mom and I started a side-gig soap business since last year (I do recommend picking some up). I wrote a lot of donation checks for community nonprofits (that’s worth something), but I rarely spend the time seeing the impact the cause because I’m too busy worrying about the next thing (that’s a little disheartening, I suppose). In most ways, I feel like nothing has changed at all. The years may be fleeting, but everything stands still. Is that possible? Short answer: Yes, if you refuse to heal from your past. Another year has passed and I still can be brought right back to 20 years ago with the simplest number. 254. 254 has been significant since I was about 20 years old. It’s how much I weighed at the time. It’s what my scale said again now. Back then, I had recently been kicked out of college and subsequently finished cosmetology school. I was in Owensboro living back at my mom’s house after a short stint in Lexington. I was a depressed, never-been-kissed, obese kid/adult still trying to be accepted by my Dad who openly disliked fat people and was living his new dream with his mistress-turned-second wife. (You can always tell a kid divorce wasn’t about them, but unless you’ve sat in your dad’s lap at 8 years old when he tells you he’s only sticking around because you’re too young to leave–you’ll always have an odd sense of responsibility for something you couldn’t control. Especially when he left the week you got your driver’s license.) I was sitting at El Toribio’s with a marg and some queso when he decided he was sending me to Weight Watchers with his new wife. I can’t decide if I was mad or grateful he was showing an interest. Whatever I felt was quickly morphed into panic as I didn’t want to tell my mom I was going to weekly meetings with her replacement. How awkward. So… I just didn’t tell her. For months. I weighed in at that first meeting at 254 pounds. In a room of middle-aged women who wanted to obsessively talk about food while all I wanted to do was crawl in a hole and DIE. I didn’t die. I was successful as long as I obsessed over food–because that’s what counting points makes you do. But then it came back when I tried to live life without the database (still printed books way back then). So maybe it doesn’t feel like much has changed in a year. Maybe my life looks relatively similar with a lot of the childhood and early adult trauma I refuse to work through. But it’s safe to say, I think about food a lot less than I did the other 39 years, so I guess I’ll use that as an increment of measurement today. 525,600 minutes. 70 pounds lighter with the same amount of sass and sarcasm. Cheers, Kalin  “…words can never hurt me.” Liar.
I think we can all agree in more recent years that mental health/trauma is as damaging as the physical injury from “sticks and stones.” It doesn’t mean we don’t forget that sometimes. I’m the first to admit I get so caught up in sarcasm and cracking jokes that I fail to realize when I’ve taken it too far—offended the unsuspected and undeserving (it’s a different story if you do deserve my venomous retorts). I say this to assure you of my self-awareness and potential hypocrisy in everything that follows… I am forever amazed at the things people have the audacity to say to others—whether friend, foe, or random passerby. Examples of unsolicited things I do not recommend saying to someone under any circumstances: (In no particular ranking order) *I guess you’re not losing weight anymore? *Don’t worry, I can slim down your face when I edit the photos. *(We) are so grateful your husband still cares so much for you despite how much weight you’ve gained. *Have you considered trying to lose without taking the easy way out with medication? *You’ll have to be on this medicine for a really long time to get to my size; are you worried about it working long-term? Okay, you get the idea. There are more, but I don’t need to paint a more detailed picture here of the variety of comments from people I may or may not even know. Honestly, I generally don’t give a shit, but that’s because I’ve become more emotionally detached as years go by. What I do hate though, is seeing and hearing disrespectful and/or ignorant comments that could hurt someone else that DOES care more than me. To be clear, I used to care quite a bit. I can describe in detail the outfits of the people involved, the wall color of the room in which it occurred, and the overall circumstances of the event when hateful things have been said to me over the years—starting at 8 years old. I probably would have preferred a stick, stone, or bat to the skull over some of the comments I listened to and internalized as a kid. So this is your reminder to think before you speak. Or not. Do what you want, BUT just be sure you’re aware that your comments CAN do as much damage as physical abuse. If that was your goal, carry on. If you weren’t aware, now you are. In contrast, if you’re just on the receiving end—I’m sorry. Just remember you’re the only one that needs to be okay with your journey and how you get there. You’re the only one who needs to understand your “why” and your motivations. So, “you do you” as they say. As for me… I’m still losing. I still take medication because it regulates my body and organ functioning allowing me to lose like other “normal” people can more easily than someone with my diagnoses. Not that justification for my choice is needed. I started at 324 pounds, so obviously this is a long journey. I’m not in a hurry. I don’t do unsustainable fads and crash diets to speed along my process. It may mean you don’t see a change in me every week (I certainly don’t), but it doesn’t mean I’m not still moving in the right direction. As of this morning, I am down 67.8 lbs (that’s 256.2 for my non-mathing peeps). Nobody’s Perfcet, but I’ll continue to try to be better tomorrow than I was today. Cheers, Kalin SW: 324 CW: 256.2 GW: I still don’t know?  I’ll call it a comeback. A take my life back. A back to accountability mindset. A shift. A determination.
Executive Dysfunction. It’s been controlling me since the mid 1980s (y’all, that big birthday comes this summer and I. AM. NOT. READY… anyway, back to executive dysfunction). If you know, you know. If you don’t relate, I don’t think I can do anything to spell it out appropriately. It’s real. It’s intrusively debilitating. It’s exhausting. It’s the reason I touch base after 5-6 weeks instead of as often as I write a blog in my head (is that weird? That I write them while driving to work, but the thought of sitting down to type the entry is too overwhelming to do IRL?). I put off everything—even personal care. I’m like the fat, sloppy version of Scarlet O’Hara “I’ll think about that tomorrow…”. But I’m here today. I’m doing it. I mean, I still didn’t wash my hair or my face or anything this morning, so I’m not doing it all, but I just meant I’m writing this entry today. I have discovered one of my *many* triggers of a dysfunctional exacerbation. It’s when a client comes in upset because when she was at another facility for a different service, they repeatedly tried to tell her she should do her weight-loss program through them instead of here. Despite being happy here (and telling them so) they continued to try to sway her. She wasn’t happy. They lost a client; I didn’t. But sometimes, that tactic works. And it’s just mean. I’m like the Santa from Miracle on 34th street. I’m referring people all over town! I have colleagues, competitors, mentors, just general industry geniuses that we send clients to every day. It’s a teamwork situation where we work to get the client the best care, results, and products they need—even if it lines a different business owner’s pocket. I love supporting local businesses and I will continue to do so. Some of the equipment and advanced services available in Owensboro are super cool—why would I not want to tell people about them? We don’t do it here, so go do it there! I mean, even I go and get services from other people and it’s fun to connect! But everyone is different and business is hard. Ownership can be lonely (again, it’s one of those if you know, you know situations). So when something like this happens—or at least when I’m told (which is often, unfortunately) it just makes me kinda sad. I shut down a bit and I let everything start to pile up while I comfort myself with a good One Tree Hill binge day. (If you’re wondering, I’m clearly aware that this is not the most constructive process.) Tough skin, though. Right? Don’t take it so personally. That practitioner doesn’t even know me. It’s not about me. It’s all personal. I refocus to my own intentions, my own growth, my own goals for myself and Integrated. Speaking of referrals. I must share what I started this week! I struggle with nutrition not because I’m overeating, but because I refuse to cook or plan accordingly and end up DoorDashing junk food. So, I enlisted the help of Lexi Carter through Carter’s Cuisine. Y’all. These meals were great! Now, I didn’t give her any dietary restrictions (only told her I hate cucumbers, peas, beans, and spicy food) so I wasn’t looking for specific macros content or anything. I just wanted to see the difference of eating pre-portioned, home-cooked meals versus every single meal from a restaurant (no worries, I will continue to support them, too!). It’s just so easy and actually ends up saving me money! I didn’t get a single repeated meal (I ordered 10) and was able to get a good sample of what she offers. I’m committed to this new way to eat and even Tony enjoyed a couple (that he stole from me because again, I’m not doing any cooking). The best part is her intake form where you select your budget, types of foods you want, allergies, dislikes, goals, etc. and she creates a customized plan for you AND delivers!! (I don’t pick things up; I have a strong mental block that prevents me from being a normal errand-runner.) So if you’re interested in some meal prep, I definitely recommend reaching out to her to see if it’s a good fit! (Nope, this isn’t a paid endorsement; I really just like to support people who treat me well and I think this gal is fantastic.) Oh, you’re just here for a weight loss update, probably… Starting weight: 324 lbs Current weight: 272.6 lbs Total loss: 51.4 pounds!!!!! (If you remember, I’ve been eyeing 50 as my first major scale goal.) *I’ve lost 6 pounds since last month’s entry, I think. Nearly half of that was just this week.* Getting some results after a slower few weeks is so motivating. I’m actually sitting down with our resident nutritionist next week for my first official consultation (that is long overdue). I’m excited to finally take advantage of the education she can offer that so many of our other clients have started to utilize with great success. (Feel free to schedule with Krista Clark for a consultation if you’re interested in some food help!) Okay, I’m off to tackle more of my overflowing pile of responsibilities that I shirk in the face of mental anguish. Cheers, Kalin  On September 23, 2022 we launched our Medical Weight Loss program. Selfishly, I curated this service for myself—knowing it was time to do something different. Be different, really. Along the way, as more and more clients joined the crew, it’s become so much more than just me and my journey.
When the program first started, it was just a small pilot group. The public scheduling began in October and continues to grow each month as more and more people share their successes with others. iTS astounding! In 5 months, our clients have lost over 1300 pounds. In case you’re worried there was a typo: ONE THOUSAND THREE HUNDRED POUNDS. (It is important to note that we have about 40+ check-up/weigh-ins on the book for this next week, so there are a lot of unaccounted for pounds out there!) Smiles are bigger. Steps are peppier. Elevated panels are lower. The program is working. For some, it’s the easiest process. No side effects, easy weight loss, small goals to reach. For others, it’s a battle, man. They’re stuck with the nausea initially, they’re worried because they want to lose 50, 100, 150 pounds. The mental game is just another adversary. They push through and show progress and I swear I get just as happy for them as I do for myself. That last statement—huge for me. I’ll be honest: I’m selfish. (Reason #432 why kids weren’t for me.) I have a history of jealousy which would only fuel my depression (the “I’m not as good, not as worthy, why not me” crap), but somewhere in the last year (creating my dream job) I’ve started embracing this perspective of encouraging others to thrive. Seeing these new friends making better choices to serve their needs—the best thing ever. (Does this mean I’m admitting to care about people? I’ll have to unpack that later.) I get texts and calls all day and night (that’s not a complaint—I’m here for it) updating progress and sharing victories. Of course, my favorites are the ones where they thank me and tell me I’m awesome (come on, you’re learning about me as a person and this can’t have been a surprise). It’s creating a steady buzz in my brain and I like it. It’s probably pride. We know it’s not my humility. ;) So how am I doing, you ask? You probably didn’t ask, but here you go: Starting weight: 324 Current weight: 282 (That was my weight yesterday, but that’s close enough. I forgot to check this AM.) 42 pounds! I have some exciting things coming in a couple weeks that will compliment this program well and I’m eager to get that all rolling. You’ll just have to stay tuned for that. :) For now, I work toward hitting 50 pounds—my next milestone goal. Not all my goals are scale-driven. Honestly, I don’t even know what all my goals are. Rule the world? Sure. That’ll do. Cheers, Kalin  Last week I spent over 6 hours in the car for pastries. I mean, it was about more than that, but it still resulted in 6 hours in a car for a bakery trip (and we have some amazing bakeries in OBKY). It wasn't about the sweets--though they were tasty--it was about showing up.
A year ago, I never would have made that drive. I would have sent along my congratulatory text or FB post and stayed home. Opening a small business changes perspective, though. My old childhood friend (we met in Jupiter, FL about 25 years ago) opened her dream shop in Plainfield, IN. (Shout out to Mama Bird Bakery for anyone in the area--or looking for a road trip.) The grand opening was just a week ago and my Mom and I headed north for a surprise visit. We couldn't make it to the actual event, but we did make it up there and seeing her face when she realized what was happening was pretty damn cool. Why? Because we showed up. I've learned in the last 11 months how much it matters to me when people just show up. It isn't about spending money or signing up for every service we offer (but um, just remember, there's a LOT of options). It's about walking in the door after driving across town and saying, "Hey! I'm so glad I finally get to come check out your space and tell you I'm proud of you." Showing up for your people MATTERS. (Admittedly, these surprise pop-ins or online booking notifications bring me the most joy.) Do you show up for your people? Have you slacked on making your relationships a priority? Are you showing up for you? Sometimes we're really good at showing up for others (I'm guiltily not good at showing up for anyone ever) and not ourselves. Clearly, I've not shown up the way I needed to for me, but driving 6 hours for a homemade pop tart made me realize I can make a little more effort here. There was a time in my life when I swam a mile almost every morning before school/work. I spent hours a week in a pool and always made the time to start my day well. I don't even remember how long ago that was a consistent habit, but based on how HARD it was this last time, it's been more than a minute. I really didn't want to go. It's cold. My legs were NOT shaved. My hours are long. My fatigue is real. My stress is growing. But I showed up. That first night, I spent nearly 90 minutes in the water--obvi, a small snippet of that time was to take a selfie ;) I was slow. So, so slow. I was winded as I tried to remember how to regulate my breathing again. My right shoulder clicked, clicked, clicked with every overhead stroke. My suit didn't stay in place. My lungs burned. My head pounded. But I showed up that day. For me. I showed up. I want to commit to showing up for me. I want to commit to showing up for those that matter to me. I may be juggling a lot right now, but so is everyone else. My "busyness" isn't a reason to stop caring about being present. I'm still participating in our medical weight loss program, though my last few weeks has been anticlimactic. I've noticed that I haven't made it as much of a priority during my phase of SURVIVING and not THRIVING (if you know, you know). I'm still sliding in the right direction, so there's no permanent damage here. It's simply a reminder to show up again. SW: 324 lbs CW 287 lbs (2.4 lbs down from last posting) Just keep swimming... Cheers, Kalin  Social activities make me anxious in a way they never did before. I guess it’s because I don’t ever do anything outside of work of binging tv shows I’ve seen repeatedly (shout out to my people who understand rewatching entire series is a coping mechanism).
Leading up to Puzzle Pieces Lip Sync Battle I started to regret everything—obviously, not the donation part because I’ve been donating to PP since it first opened—but the thought of having to see a couple thousand people I haven’t seen in years made me increasingly nervous as the night got closer. We had the pleasure of sponsoring the Pre-Party and I was grateful to have a reason to “make” myself go out and enjoy the night—and I DID! I never considered how it would feel to show up to something with my logo and branding on every table. To walk by someone scanning my QR code. To spot someone flipping through my service menu. iTS pretty cool, I guess. ;) But when I received a text message right after the new board chairman was on stage talking about Integrated Therapy Solutions… my eyes were suddenly wet. One of my early mentors in the therapy world (and previous clinical instructor turned boss) had messaged me to say, “…so proud of you.” I’m a big fan of affirmations when launched my way (y’all know this), but when it comes from someone you respect enough that the thought of disappointing her still makes you queasy 10+ years later—this text was everything. I might even say it gave me a little pep in my step. But just as easily as I can sail on the breeze of my victories, I can crash into concrete just as quickly. The highs of highs from such an epic night tend to lead me to the lowest of lows in the haze of the morning after. Does anyone else have post-fun depression? Don’t get me wrong, my mental health isn’t super always super stellar/consistent, but when I have such an increase in socialization, it’s generally followed by an extreme hermit experience. That black cloud follows me through the week… requiring every bit of energy I can muster to just trek along my weekly schedule. It’s as if I just wait for the punchline, the catch, the good energy to drop. It usually does (it did). I had a few texts asking where my blog was. I intended to write a new entry a week ago, but again, I was just surviving. So, I got myself together and got back on the scale. I was hesitant as I correlate my depressive states with weight gain (that’s 30+ years talking), but guess what? Still on track… SW: 324 CW: 289.4 (4.4 lbs lost since last update a couple weeks ago) Including the pic to show a little progress. Don’t get distracted by the fact my hair was actually washed and styled and I had a little touch of make up on!! I had to order some (I saw it on TikTok) because my make up was 4 years old. How gross? That just explains how often I wear it—never—and how much emphasis I place on shopping—none. Cheers, Kalin I get it. I do. You've decided to focus on losing weight and you need the results yesterday.
I gained over 100 pounds in a relatively short period of time [less than 3 years]. So I obviously like to argue when people say, "You didn't gain it in a day; don't expect to lose it in one." Um, I almost did gain it in a day, so mind your business, Linda! My intention with my blog [beside for the need to reflect, authenticate, and release] is to paint the realistic picture of what this program looks like for me. I'm clearly not the epitome of structure and diligence as I generally remind you all of my failed attempts at "good" nutrition. I'm also not here to glamorize and highlight effortless, rapid weight loss as it's not coming off at record speeds. I do want to highlight that if I hadn't started 3 months ago, I wouldn't have lost the 30 pounds I've lost. I wanted to lose that a month ago. I wanted to already be rounding out 40 at least. I wanted to sail through this in a butterfly-and-rainbow haze of magic. But let's be real... what I want more is a healthy, sustainable loss that can survive and thrive in my life as I make choices to support my goals. And. I'm. Doing. It. I had someone tell me the medication didn't work for her [it isn't for everyone, so we would never expect that], but upon some more consulting with the client, she deemed it ineffective because she only lost 6 pounds in 4 weeks. For those who "gain no matter what" "can't lose weight even if I starve myself" and a host of other things we hear during evaluations, I consider 6 pounds in 4 weeks to be FANTASTIC. Your body is responding to changes. We're counseling on nutrition, water intake, rest and resets, journaling, CHANGING. [****reiterating that I'm still not saying this is everyone's golden ticket, so go on now****] But I get it. I do. You want it already gone when you check out from your first visit. [I mean, so do I! That would be incredible for my business.] 6 pounds in 4 weeks could = 78 pounds in 52 weeks. My 30 pounds in 15 weeks could = 104 pounds in 52 weeks [it won't, so don't consider me a failure when I don't get there that fast] Let's move forward together. SW: 324 pounds [9/23/22] CW: 293.8 pounds [12/31/22] Cheers, Kalin |
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