Conflict 2016: The Year of Celebrity Death, the Weird Presidential Election and Transformation for Dawn Ray of Sunshine

I am conflicted. On the surface (and in the record books), 2016 has been a shitty year. The US had the worst Presidential candidates and election situation ever. (Seriously, it was a bit like watching Jerry Springer on a worldwide scale.)  We've lost some of the best and brightest at their craft in Hollywood, Sports, Music and Literature: Prince, Muhammad Ali, Craig Sager, Carrie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds, George Michael, Glenn Frey, Alan Rickman, Harper Lee, Joey Feek, Nancy Reagan, Merle Haggard, Gordie Howe, Anton Yelchin, Pat Summitt, Garry Marshall, Garry Shandling, Steven Hill (Adam Schiff on Law & Order), Gene Wilder, Jose Fernandez, Arnold Palmer, Gwen Ifill, Florence Henderson, John Glenn, Alan Thicke, I know the list goes on...

By all accounts, it's been shitty. And it seems if we are able to make it through the next 2 days of 2016 without any more deaths, we will be lucky. (The dark humor side of me wishes I had been in a version of Howard Stern's "Celebrity Death Pool" because I could have made some serious coin.) Okay, I don't mean to make light of it, but if we don't laugh about it, we will cry ourselves into 2017. 

But for me, 2016 has been life-changing. And frankly, life-saving. And not just physically. Sure, I made a huge decision to have gastric sleeve surgery. I've lost about 70 pounds and I'm exercising on a regular basis. I've completely changed my outlook on food and finally come to grips with why I eat as well as what I eat. (It is still sometimes a struggle, but I am very aware of these things now, whereas I couldn't say that before.) But as much work as I've put in on the physical me, I've put in as much work on the spiritual and emotional me. It's the me you can't see upon first glance, but trust me, she's in there and she's very different now. Early in the year, I decided to rid myself of some toxic things in my life. Everything from negative self-talk to negative and toxic relationships in my personal and professional life to impostor syndrome. (I still suffer from that and that's another blog post for another time, but I'm working on that.) 

In January, I really began working on ME. Even though Tom has been telling me for years that I needed to take care of myself, it finally started to sink in. Y'all know I'm hard headed and it took a while for that to sink in!! So I started the journey of self-discovery and frankly, I didn't like what I discovered. So I set out to change it. I started the gastric sleeve journey (a LONG journey to surgery) and then I began examining every aspect of my life. I didn't go and broadcast this work to anyone, not even to Tom. But I needed to find ME again. So I began to listen to my conversations and daily interactions with people -- and not just listen to wait for my turn to talk, but really listen to understand and learn. I wanted to know how people viewed me, and that included my own family, especially Tom and my kids.  I stumbled a lot, heck, I even cried some. It wasn't always pretty, but it was enlightening. There were some things that were said to me (either blatantly or in passing) or things I read that had a profound impact on me. They have stuck with me, and probably always will. Here are a few to note: 

"WOW! What a great laugh you've got. I've never heard you laugh like that before!" This one seems innocent enough and was just an observation from one of the baseball dads from Tripp's baseball team while we were all at the beach together, but it was like taking a punch in the gut. (And I'm so grateful he said it.)  I love to laugh. I live to laugh. It's who I am. I love to make people laugh. I love to make my kids laugh. Laughter is the best part of life. People used to tell me all the time what a great (loud, obnoxious) laugh I had and how it was infectious. I hadn't heard that in years. So when he said it, it hit me in the face, hard. I realized I hadn't heard that in years. And frankly, I hadn't laughed like that in years. It caused me to ask Tom about it. And he agreed. He said I don't laugh like I used to anymore. And he was right. I didn't. I vowed then to find my laugh again. (So thanks, Collins Day. You are appreciated.) 

"You can't be a man. Be a woman. It's powerful business when done correctly." This is a quote from Mad Men. Several quotes from Mad Men appear on this list. I watched the show in it's entirety at the beginning of 2016 and it had a profound impact on me in both a personal and professional sense. (Truly, it's in my top 3 shows I consider to be the best shows ever made outside of Seinfeld: Mad Men, The Shield and Breaking Bad.) . The quote is from Bobbie Barrett, who was the wife/manager of the obnoxious comedian Jimmy Barrett, who did the VO work for the Utz Potato Chip account at Sterling Cooper. She was talking to Peggy Olson. Peggy was a young, naive sort at the agency, and one with whom I identified with greatly. She began as a secretary, answering phones, but showed a penchant for copywriting and worked her way into one of the most valuable employees at Sterling Cooper. (She also had the most bad ass scene I've pretty much ever seen in a TV show...) 

Everything about this scene is bad ass. Peggy's growth as an advertising executive AND as a woman is summed up in this 25 seconds. Her cigarette, her sunglasses, and her NSFW Japanese porn painting epitomize the swagger she carries as she walks into her new role at McCann Erickson. This scene, and the growth of the Peggy character, influenced my life this year in so many ways. Bobbie is telling Peggy that she doesn't have to be like a man to get noticed at her job. She needs to understand men and how they think and operate, but she has an immense power as a women and she should use it. WOW. Very heavy and very true. I've tapped into my inner Peggy Olson many times this year, and intend to keep doing it. 

"Etre bien dans sa peau," (French for "to be well in my skin"): I am not even sure where I saw this (likely Facebook where all wisdom can be found these days :)) but it stuck with me. I was extremely uncomfortable in my own skin and I have been for years. This little French phrase has taught me to just be comfortable with who I am, and not worry about who I'm not. I haven't perfected that yet, but I'm working on it. 

"I'm calling to let you know you've been approved for gastric sleeve surgery." That little sentence changed my life. It was a huge leap on a journey full of liquids, baby foods and purees for a few months, but a leap for which I am so very grateful. 

"I'd love to offer you this job and have you be a part of our team." Such a great phone call to receive (and it was so perfectly timed!) In November, I joined the team at EdR. It's a great chance for me to lead their communications and marketing efforts and be a part of a company that is redefining collegiate housing. 

"We need you to write us a check for $3,000": I won't get into the details that are behind this comment, but it speaks to the incompetence some people (and companies) possess. And it was a defining moment for me. Thanks to the urging of my supportive husband, I refused to just "write the check" and demand documentation for other's mistakes. He reminded me that I'm not here to clean up the mistakes due to other's incompetence. Also, it was a reminder that I am a decent, honest person. (That's always a good reminder!) #notmyproblem


"People tell you who they are, but we ignore it because we want them to be who we want them to be." Mind. Blown. Right?!??! Why did it take a fictional male chauvinist character on a TV Show to get me to understand this? People show their true colors to you all the time. We just choose whether to see them or not. And damn, some folks have really showed me their true colors this year. A few showed me how truly selfish they really are and how they were only out for themselves. They showed me their arrogance and their blatant disregard for other people's feelings (including mine.) Of course, not all people are like this, but some really showed their true colors to me this year. Or better yet, I finally began to see them. 

"If you don't like what's being said, change the conversation." Sure, it's been said before by others, but it stuck with me when Don Draper said it on Mad Men. We are in charge of our destiny and how others view us. We are ultimately in charge of that conversation and changing that conversation if we don't like it. This year, I've worked hard at both. And I think I've changed the conversation on many fronts. 

"Sometimes things just don't work out." This is one I actually said to someone, and it was a defining moment for me. Nearly two years ago, I took a leap of faith and took a new job. I stepped out of my comfort zone at Hilton and went into healthcare. And you know what? It didn't quite work out as planned. And that's okay. Not everything works out all the time, no matter how much we want it to. (Took me until I was 40 to figure that out.) 

Now I know this list looks like a lot of self-empowering quotes that make me look like I have all my shit together. HAHHAHAHAHA!! Far from the truth. I have stumbled quite a bit this year and I most certainly will in 2017 and beyond. And I'm still my worry-wart self: I worry about my youngest child and how he fits in socially; I worry about his attention span and his maturity level even though he is wicked smart; I worry about the fact that he shows no interest in riding a bike for himself and question whether we should have held him back a grade earlier on because most of the kids in his grade are nearly a year older than he is; I worry about the fact that we just put $5,000 worth of  braces in my oldest son's mouth; I worry about how we are going to get both boys to practices and get school and studying done and how we can do all of that while working and not going insane. I worry about what we are going to eat for dinner and what three bites or so I'm going to have for dinner; I worry about when I'm going to go to the gym; I worry if I'm a good wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend. I worry about the violence in Memphis and if we can overcome it; I worry about our great nation and how divided we all are and if we can survive the turbulent election and the upcoming inauguration. I worry. 

So on paper, 2016 was shitty. So much death. So much weirdness in the world. So much animosity and violence and not enough love. So in that regard, it was shitty. But it was also transformational. In 2017, I'm choosing to change the conversation. I'm choosing to channel my inner Don Draper and Peggy Olson and be who I am and make no apologies for it. I'm choosing to show my true colors and be sure to sniff out others' before I invest my precious time in them. In 2017, I'm continuing to choose ME (and Tom, Zane and Tripp and Mama Sue and others I hold dear.)  And I'm going to laugh. I'm going to laugh the real, infectious, loud and obnoxious Dawn Ray laugh. 

And if that bothers you, then too bad. Je suis bien dans ma peau. And that's #notmyproblem (nor it is Peggy Olson's.) 

The (Closet) Purge

Sorry I’m just now getting to the December 1 update on December 10, but I’ve been a little busy. Between my new job, lots of basketball practice and games for the boys, and preparing for Christmas, Team Ray has had a lot going on.

So, I’ll just get right to the point. I went for my three-month post op checkup last week and here are my stats: down 65 pounds (50 since surgery August 23), I have lost 46 percent of my excess body weight. Wow. Just wow. Those are amazing numbers to me. And though I have a long way to go, Tom keeps reminding me of how far I have come. And not just my weight and my looks, but my attitude. My thoughts on food have changed and I am making exercise a priority. (well, except those times I can’t muster up enough energy to get out of bed at 5 a.m. and go to the gym, and then Tom reminds me that my gym clothes that are lying on the bathroom floor are crying because they are lonely.) But I’m exercising more than I ever have in my life. And I don’t hate it.

December 1, 2016
3 months post-op 

 But even though we’ve been busy, I did take some time to do something I desperately needed to do. I purged my closet. It was both a pain in the ass, and also cathartic for me. My sweet mom helped me and we carved out a few hours on a Saturday to tackle the task. I had clothes for days, and in all sorts of places and closets in our house. I also had a vast array of sizes. In short, it was a chore. Some things needed throwing away anyway because they were out of style. Others I had saved to wear as transition clothes, but I managed to bypass that size altogether, or couldn’t wear it because the weather didn’t match up with the type of clothing. Some things I could look at and just tell it wouldn’t fit, but other things I tried on. And you know what I discovered? I discovered that I can’t even really "see" what size I am or how much weight I have truly lost. 

Then I began to try and put into perspective how much weight 65 pounds was. Zane, my 6-year-old, weighs 65 pounds. I had lost the equivalent of a healthy, active 6-year-old boy. I had a lot of emotions that day: amazement, pride and anger. I was amazed that I had actually lost that much weight in such a short period of time. I was so proud of myself for doing something that I truly never thought was possible. (Seriously, I put some of those clothes on and they absolutely fell off me, when they used to fit or be tight.) And truthfully, I was angry. I was angry that I couldn’t have figured this out on my own in the first 40 years of my life. That I had let myself get to the point that I had to have 70 percent of my stomach removed to get my s#!t together. But I didn’t dwell on that too long, because we had work to do.

We had piles for Goodwill, piles for consignment and piles for Dress for Success. I made $60 from the ones I consigned (honestly, I hate consigning, so many rules!!!) and then I donated so many nice clothes to Dress for Success. My closet is pretty bare right now, but I’m making do with what I have that fits and I’ve bought a few basic pieces to wear and rotate. It seems my “uniform” is a color cardigan or jacket over a black dress or black slacks. I only have two pair of jeans and a few casual items, but I’m getting it done. There is a lot of room in my closet, but it has made me realize that I don’t need as many clothes as I once had. Of course, my feet didn’t change sizes, so I still need as many shoes as Carrie Bradshaw.  

What Goes Around...

Like many Memphians (and music fans), I love Justin Timberlake. He’s talented, funny, a great entertainer and just relatable. Beyond that, I just really like his songs. One of the ones I’ve always liked is What Goes Around…Comes Around. Y'all know the one I’m talking about. It’s rumored to be the “sequel” to Cry Me a River, which was about JT’s ex, Britney Spears, and the rumored subject of the song is one of his friends and his celebrity girlfriend. It’s a break up song, one that is about finding out in time that what comes around goes around. JT sings about how he can’t believe this is how we are saying goodbye, but in time, what comes around goes around. Well, that song has been in my head a lot the last few weeks, and not because of any scorned lover or break up situation. Well, sort of. Let me explain.

If you know me well, you know I love college basketball. And 2008 was a banner year for me and my college basketball fandom. Truthfully, it is where my love for the Memphis Tigers basketball team bordered on obsession. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then just google it. Our little old Memphis Tigers spent a good portion of the season at the top of the basketball polls. Now, we’ve always been a basketball town here in Memphis and truthfully, have always loved our Tigers and we’ve had a few shining moments in the national spotlight (Larry Finch, Penny Hardaway) and have had some nice tournament runs, but nothing anyone outside of Memphis would count as considerable. Then we hired arguably one of the best college basketball coaches to ever coach the game. John Calipari. He took the best available college basketball job there was, and at the time, that was Memphis. Cal had previously coached at UMass and had bolted the college scene for the NBA and it didn’t go so well. He needed out of New Jersey. Memphis came calling, and he accepted. It was rocky at first (which may be putting it mildly.) But he was afforded patience by the residents of our fair city and there’s one thing you can say about Memphians, we get behind something with all of our passion. And after a couple of seasons, we were behind him 100 percent.  For better or worse, we began to welcome him as a Memphian. Heck, we even welcomed him as family. And when he took us to the Promised Land (The NCAA Tournament—all hail March Madness) as a #1 seed, we rejoiced. We cheered through the entire tournament (even when they said we would be he first #1 seed in history to be beaten by a #16 seed.) We hung on and we made it to the Championship Game. And then, we lost. And that hurt. A lot. Hell, it still does hurt. But somehow we got through it. We all cried together. And we looked forward to the next season.

The next season wasn’t as fruitful as the previous one, but Cal had redeemed himself in the eyes of the college basketball world (the general consensus much to Tiger fans chagrin was “if he can make Memphis that successful, he can do that at another school.”) Kentucky—the mother of all college basketball jobs—came calling and even though he said he wasn’t interested and lied to Memphis fans and the Memphis media about leaving, he left anyway. Without saying goodbye. Sort of like the equivalent of getting broken up with via text message (only we didn’t even get the text message.) I will spare you the details, but in short, he broke up with us for a hotter woman. He left Memphis. Took our recruits, coaches and even our snow cone machine and headed to Lexington.

Like all of Tiger Nation, I was distraught. I had bought everything Calipari sold -- hook, line and blue and gray sinker. Just like he told us too, I carried that chip on my shoulder. Now, my coach left. And he didn’t even say goodbye. I was crushed. I was depressed. I took it entirely too hard (my husband was genuinely worried about me.) Then, like the stages of grief, I got mad. I began to formulate this (why my husband considered) unhealthy outlook toward Calipari. So I did what any heartbroken person would do, I wrote a letter. 

I needed to break up with him. So I wrote a broke up letter to John Calipari. I posted it on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/notes/dawn-ray/an-open-letter-to-coach-cal-from-a-tiger-fan/63807527053 . I sent it to by friends via email. It was cathartic for me. And with that catharsis came my new pastime-complaining about Calipari.  It sorta became my new “party trick.” Just the mention of his name sent me into orbit. I got on my soapbox about him being a snake oil salesman (can’t take credit for that phrase, that was all Tom Ray.) But I was vocal. Friends and co-workers used to watch me unleash when anyone asked about Calipari. When I was traveling for work, I would overhear someone at cocktail parties say “ask Dawn about John Calipari,” just for their own entertainment. I even was set off when I heard the words “University of Kentucky” or saw a UK logo. I had it bad. I was a woman scorned. And you know what they say about the fury of a woman scorned…

Slowly, I managed to get over the breakup. The Tigers hired a new coach (uh, the only one he didn’t take with him to Kentucky) and I became a Josh Pastner fan. I realized life kept chugging along (just like Red said in "The Shawshank Redemption" —  I needed to “get busy living or get busy dying.”) I tried to get busy living. Eventually, I didn’t think about him as much. I didn’t talk about him as much. And I (almost got over him.)

Then of course, he started doing really well at Kentucky (of course he did, he’s a good coach and it’s one of the most storied programs in college basketball history.) And it opened the wound again. I won't even get into the fury of having to vacate the wins from 2008 and take up the banner from our National Championship year. Because of him, that got erased from the history book and that banner doesn't hang. He eventually won a National Championship at Kentucky and Big Blue Nation celebrated. They too, think he is a basketball god as I once did. 

But eventually, the empty feeling you get after a breakup subsided. Nowadays, I handle it pretty well. I only get a little bothered by him a few times each basketball season—or when that fateful three by Kansas’ Mario Chalmers in 2008 is shown repeatedly.

Now, here’s where the “what goes around comes around” part comes into play. I started a new job about three weeks ago. I. LOVE. IT. There is one tiny irritant with it, however. I can’t walk five feet in the office without being bombarded with a University of Kentucky logo. Why, you ask? Well, I work for a company that is one of the leading managers, developers and owners of collegiate housing. And our crown jewel, flagship on-campus property? Yep, that’s right. The University of Kentucky. There is a UK logo everywhere. On my new desk was a coaster set commemorating the UK relationship. Over the next few weeks or so, I will even take a trip to Lexington to tour our beautiful properties on the campus. I can’t seem to escape it.

Now, I know that UK isn’t all Calipari. There's much more to Kentucky than a college basketball coach. It is a wonderful school with strong academic programs, beautiful student housing and much more to offer its students along with a strong basketball program. But to a sports fan like me, the universities are associated with their college athletic programs. And if ever in a game of word association, I will associate UK basketball with John Calipari.

So, JT. You had it right when you recorded that breakup song. In time, you will find what goes around, goes around, goes around comess all the way back around…. I just never thought it would be me on this end of things. After all, I didn’t break his heart. He broke mine. 

New Month, New Update, New News

Happy November! It is the start of a new month, so that means it’s time for a new blog post (and picture.)

The last couple of weeks have been interesting learning how to eat again. As a food lover, I NEVER thought I would say I had to “learn” how to eat again, but I have. It’s weird, quite honestly. Some days it’s easier than others, but now, I just have to remind myself to plan ahead. So while preparing lunches and helping Tom prepare the kids for the day ahead (while also trying to juggle laundry that won’t end, figuring out who is getting whom to the next sports practice or game, and reviewing with the kids for the day’s tests--figuratively and literally), I also have to think about what I’m going to have for lunch. I am trying to always have something on hand to take with me so I don’t have to rely on a spur of the moment choice --which doesn’t always end well. (As a side note, I can’t really eat that much anymore, and I have found some delicious Lean Cuisine frozen meals—my favorite is the White Vermont Cheddar Mac and Cheese.) It’s just cheesy enough and hits the spot; of course, it takes me 30 minutes to eat the entire thing if I don’t give up!

Anyway, eating out has been interesting and everyone is always so nice and accommodating about it (which makes me a tad uncomfortable, but it is appreciated.) I have ventured to a few places, and some have been a strange experience for me. Sunday evening, I ventured out with Tom and Zane and we decided to go to Moe’s (cue the happy greeting when you walk in the door: Welcome to Moe’s!!!!!) I was excited about getting a taco salad (I haven’t been able to eat salad and I have missed it.) Well, I took about 4 bites and couldn’t eat anymore. In fact, I just felt sick. I think I may have eaten it too fast or something, but it wasn’t enjoyable at all. (And typically, I love a Moe’s Taco Salad with chicken.) I had about 3 chips before I ate the salad and I guess I filled up on those. Lesson learned, but I just hate spending money on food and not being able to take it home (kinda hard to take home a salad and eat it later.)

Halloween: So yesterday was Halloween and if you know me even remotely well, you know I’m not a big holiday person -- except for Thanksgiving -- I LOVE Thanksgiving. Well, having kids sometimes (okay, A LOT of times) requires that you do stuff you don’t particularly like (I’m takling to you, television shows like Teen Titans Go! and pretty much everything on Nickelodeon.) In my case, it is decorating for Halloween, dressing up and then going trick or treating. I didn’t like trick or treating when I was a kid. Not. At. All. But being a mom means I like to see my kids smile and be happy (and sacrifice dammit!) And my kids like it when I dress up for Halloween. (Even Tripp, though he may not say it, but he’s 11, so you know, he’s practically a teenager already.) This year, I decided to be a “Mombie” aka Mommy Zombie. (pretty much what I feel like when I wake up in the morning.) So, I put on a bath robe, donned some of Zane’s zombie makeup (he was a Zombie Football player) and ta da!!! Halloween. (for the record, Tripp is Domingo Ayala, a You Tube sensation among the athletic-type youth of today-- basically, he does You Tube videos about baseball, talks in a Dominican accent and the kids love him.)

 

One of Zane’s friends was having a little hayride and party, so I took him. And was suddenly transported to that scene in the original Bridget Jones’ Diary where she shows up to the party in full out Playboy bunny costume and only to be... you guessed it.. the only parent dressed up. (Now that I think about it, Zombie Playboy bunny would have been a great costume, but I digress.) Awkward….

Sigh… but at least my kid liked it and he was happy. A good time was had by all, and both kids got a bunch of candy. Speaking of candy, I only had one piece of Halloween candy. Yes, I’m proud of that. I’m wearing that like a badge of honor. (Please note, there is no shame in eating more than one piece of Halloween candy and that is how I have spent the previous 40 years on October 31.)

New adventure: About two years ago, I made a big decision in terms of my career. I decided to leave Hilton Worldwide after 12 years and venture into the world of healthcare communications and marketing. I've learned a lot, met some great people, but recently a new opportunity came my way and I’ve decided to take it. As of November 14, I will be joining Memphis-based EdR as the Vice President of Corporate Communications and Marketing. EdR is a fantastic company that is truly changing the college experience for the bright minds of today. They are one of the leading developers of collegiate housing throughout the U.S. and manage a lot of beds at these colleges. Trust me, these housing complexes don't look anything like they did when I went to school.  It’s an awesome opportunity for me to get back into the real estate development world (this work is VERY similar to what I did at Hilton) and I’m very excited about it. So, more BIG changes for me and my family. (Look at you, 2016, you’ve been an interesting year for me.)

And finally, an update: As of mid-July, I have lost 58.4 pounds. Since surgery on August 23, I have lost 43 pounds. I am truly astonished! But it’s not just about the pounds lost. I feel better. I sleep better. I have more energy. I think I’m even a more pleasant and giving person. (oh hell, who am I kidding?  I’m still cold and dead inside.) Seriously, I’m making exercise a priority and trying to get it in as much as possible. I know it is something I have to do. I’m trying to go to barre once a week and vary my exercise the other days.) And yes, barre class still hurts, but the “Barre-bies” are just so nice!

 

November 1, 2016

 

 

 

Meet me at the Bar(re)

Nothing is more humbling to a chunky girl (and even more, one that has recently lost a good bit of weight) than going into a barre classes with a bunch of skinny, toned belles of the barre. If you’ve never been to a barre exercise class (here locally it is Pure Burre) allow me to describe it for you, in my own Dawn Ray of Sunshine fashion. Before I begin, however, let me explain that I actually like the class. And that’s big for me because I’m not exactly a fan of exercise of any kind, truly. There is retail space in front of the studio, and they sell athleisure clothing that is so popular these days. Leggings and tanks with cute sayings like “Barre So Hard,” “J’Adore Barre,” “Eat, Sleep, Tuck, Repeat.” “Meet me at the Barre” and my personal favorite, “Belle of the Barre.” Now, keep in mind I went to these classes in December before I even had surgery and really liked them. And of course, I found those tanks annoyingly cute. Like a Taylor Swift song that I didn’t want to like but kept singing loudly in the car, and at work and at home, I didn’t want to like them, but they were so damn cute I couldn’t help myself. And of course they didn’t fit me. But I digress…. 

These classes are intense. The Pure Barre motto is Lift, Tuck, Burn (LTB) and you do a series of yoga, pilates, barre, ballet type exercise and really work your core, arms and legs. The 55-minute class is filled with small movements (“tiny up, tiny down”) that hurt like hell and make your muscles shake.  In fact, they encourage you to “find your shake,” and let’s be honest, the only time I’ve ever wanted to “find my shake” was at Sonic.

You start each class with a warm up, which is honestly, one of the most challenging to me. I start out strong, and then we get to planks.  In what world are planks considered a warm up? Anyway, I push through the warmup the best I can and then we get to the weights. Very small weights, thank God. Remember, small motions, with isometric holds in between. PAINFUL, but effective. Then we go to the barre. Ahh, the barre. I never thought I would say anything positive about a bar(re), unless I was sitting at one with a drink in my hand, but the barre is the centerpiece of the entire 55-minute class. It’s where you work your legs, arms, core and seat (they say seat rather than butt or some other term because as my friend Kelly says, “they keep it classy.”) This is where you really lift, tuck, burn and find the shake. Again, tiny movements to work these parts of your body—I’m talking one inch – but it works and I’m sweating like I’ve just run a 10k (okay, I’ve never fully run a 10K or even a 5K, but I have to imagine that I would sweat a lot.)  

Once you feel like you can’t LTB anymore, you move to the other leg and work that side. Then, you grab your mat and do floor work up against the wall. You use the barre to push up with your arms and you do these tiny torture movements with your legs. Your legs and everything else feel like jelly, then the lights go dim, the music changes to a softer, slower tempo and you move the mat to the floor. Thank God!! You’re almost there… or so you think. It’s time for ab work. Hey, at least you get to be on the floor. But I promise you, tucking and squeezing your abs and seat aren’t exactly resting and winding down. The instructor is encouraging, she always gives some shout outs to you, like “great form, Kelsey” or “keep it up, Kim” or “one more change, ladies, this is where it really burns but is totally worth it.” (and yes, she sounds exactly as you have imagined it your head.) Truthfully, I love to hear her call my name, even if it is “great correction to your form, Dawn.” But damn, they are all so nice and supportive. And tiny. They are all so tiny and toned.

 Finally, once you have bridged and tucked and squeezed and lifted and you think you can’t do it anymore, you get to roll over on your stomach and stretch. Best. Stretch. Ever. And also a humbling stretch. I rolled over, did a cobra pose (thanks, Google!) and saw my reflection in the mirror. (Did I mention there are mirrored walls in this studio everywhere?) I was a mess. I looked awful-- flushed face, sweaty hair, just a mess.

Now, I know it may sound like I don’t like this class very much, but I actually do like it a lot. I feel like I have accomplished something big after I leave. Nearly every part of my body hurts, I look like a wreck—but it feels (dare I say) good. I hurt afterwards and getting up the next day isn’t that easy, but it gets easier. The Pure Barre Belles say you get more comfortable after 10 classes, so I’m looking forward to that.

I know I took the long way around for this update, but I wanted to provide a little glimpse into how my life has changed since this surgery, versus just talking about food. This is and always has been about more than food for me. It's been about inactivity and frankly, being lazy.

I know I haven’t posted many pics of me, so I decided to do that so you could see my progress. I’ve decided to take these pics on the first of each month to make it easier to keep track.

August 23, 2016
Surgery Day



September 1, 2016
9 days post surgery
 



October 1, 2016
39 days post surgery


Even though I had a humbling (and sobering) look in the mirror last night at the barre, I'm making great progress. My next doctor's appointment  is October 13 and I will consider that my official weigh-in 6 weeks (or so) post surgery. It should be noted that my home scale says I have lost a bit more than 30 pounds since surgery, and a bit more than 45 pounds since mid-July. I've got a long way to go, but I'm feeling better and looking better. Except for when I leave barre class, then I'm just a hot Southern mess. 

Please Allow Me Time for a Pity Party

I promised you sarcastic rays of sunshine, the good, the bad and the ugly about this surgery and the journey. And so far, it’s been mostly good. But, since I promised you the truth (with a little sass), here it is. I’m struggling right now. And I have been over the last few days. It’s been tough. It’s hard to articulate and put into words exactly why it has sucked over the last few days, but it has. I will try to explain. It’s time for me to have a pity party.

First, there is the planning. I’ve moved on to phase three of my post-op diet, and frankly, it’s been the most challenging. I would have honestly thought that only drinking broth in shot glasses and 5 ounces of protein shakes at a time would have been worse, but that was much easier. I could just grab my juice/water/Crystal Light/protein shake and go. And for a busy working mama, that was easy. (Well, It was also easy because I was off work and had time to prepare the foods and drinks.) Now, I have to take my little cooler wherever I go, with my yogurt/soft lunch meat/tuna/soft pasta/egg beaters, because Lord knows you can’t really go up to the concession stand at the baseball or football field and order any of that.

Second, it is the eating itself. I’m just figuring it all out. I have to eat slowly, and that is a challenge for me. If I eat too fast, it hurts. When it hurts, it doesn’t taste good. And the drinking, drinking is a pain in the ass. (And I’m not even talking about that I can’t have alcohol.) I’m talking about drinking water—wait, sipping. That’s what I have to do now. Doesn’t matter how hot and thirsty you are, you have to sip. Because if you don’t, you guessed it, it hurts. Guess I couldn’t even physically chug a beer even if I was able.

Lastly, eating is just plain tedious now. It isn’t enjoyable in the least, but something I have to do so I won’t get lightheaded and pass out. I know that the food I so much enjoyed eating made me completely miserable after I ate it, but it was good while I was eating it. There was a social aspect to it; I derived some satisfaction from it. Now, it is work. I have to concentrate on chewing each bite-- 10 times!. I have to set aside 30 minutes to eat a meal—who has 30 minutes to eat a meal?!?!?!?!?! I really would have thought I would be more satisfied eating actual food, but I’m not. Frankly, it is just tedious.

I hope I don’t sound ungrateful. I’m really not. And I’m not regretting having the surgery, but right now, I’m just venting and I needed to have a pity party for myself. And I also need to not hurt when I accidentally drink too much water.

Comfortable in My Own (Saggy) Skin

It’s been four weeks today since I had this life-changing surgery, so I wanted to do a quick update.

Total pounds lost:  29 since surgery August 23 (Holy crap) and 44 total since Mid-July.

Hunger Level: None (so weird) I do have to eat, though, because I will realize I am a bit light-headed and need something to eat. Don't need to pass out.

Food activity: I’m currently at the end of phase 2, which consists of protein shakes, pureed soups and pureed foods. On Thursday, I get to move to soft foods, non-pureed soups, and other yummy treats. That should make eating out with my family (which I haven’t done since surgery) a little easier.

Energy Level: getting better, but still not at 100%. I tend to feel pretty good in the am, but start dragging around 3 p.m. (so not much brilliance coming out of my brain at work around that time… or ever for that matter.)

Satisfaction level with surgery: VERY satisfied. It has really been a relatively smooth transition for me, considering the big changes that have been made. I do admit it is a daily struggle, mostly just due to the amount of preparation and planning while I am in this stage of the diet. Also, I have to schedule my exercise with work and the kids’ activities. But I’m getting it done. Nearly a month out, I am VERY glad I did this surgery.

Wardrobe plan: obviously, I am having some wardrobe challenges right now with the rapid weight loss – and I’m certainly not complaining! But good news! I held on to several sizes of black pants, tops and a few dresses, so I will have able to get back in to some of those and will soon. I’m trying not to buy too many pieces right now and make do with what I have in my closet. (Luckily, I have several sizes in my closet!) It’s a process that’s for sure. So if you see me in the same thing I wore last week, don’t judge.

Quirks: I’m learning how to eat again. I know that sounds weird, but what I mean is, I’m retraining my brain on eating too fast. I’ve always been a fast eater, and that just can’t happen anymore. When I do eat fast, I can tell. It feels like I may throw it up, but that’s not healthy. So I just have to retrain myself to slow down. It’s a weir sensation to look at your food container and see you’ve only eaten 4 small spoons full of pureed green beans and feel like you are about to lose it. But it is my new normal.

Being around others while they eat: for the most part, being around others during this time hasn’t bothered me too much. But yes, it has bothered me a bit. Not so much at home when I’m with my family, but being at a social event or gathering. I have only been to a restaurant one time and that was with Tom this past Saturday night. We went to Panera so I could enjoy some soup. Maybe not the best Saturday dinner for him, but at least we sat at a table and ate together. The weird thing is knowing what to do while you aren’t eating and everyone else is. Tom said it should be pretty obvious to do what I do best—TALK. (isn’t he funny?) I’m trying that and it is a little awkward, but I’m getting there.

Deep Thoughts: I’ve also been thinking a lot lately about how I got to this phase in my life where I let my weight and eating habits get away from me. Truly, I’ve always been pretty comfortable in my own skin and of course “have carried my weight well,” but I’ve been trying to pinpoint a few instances where it really bothered me and I said ENOUGH!  Two of my “fat memories” occurred in the first 18 years of my life and have stuck with me until this day.
We all have those memories that stick out in our head and here are two times that I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin.

I was in the 8^th grade and it was right after the junior high prom. I had gotten word that my date – who was just a friend of mine – told a few folks that my face was fat. He just mentioned my face being fat, not anything else. It bothered me for a bit, and I got my feelings hurt, but I seemed to have moved on from it. (Ok, if I’m blogging about it maybe I didn’t really move on from it.)

I’ve written about the high school football game anxiety in the past, and frankly, it began with a “fat” experience.  I’ve mentioned I was a cheerleader and had never really attended a high school game where I wasn’t on the sidelines or had another “task” to accomplish. I was a freshman in college and – as all freshmen do – decided to attend a high school football game at my alma mater. So I did, with several other high school friends. We were sitting up in the bleachers talking to a few other folks that were still in high school and the score had been pretty tight. Late in the game, the visiting team scored, putting them on top.  Someone said, “well, it’ ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings.” To which someone replied, “sing, Dawn. SING!” I was mortified. I was embarrassed. I was furious. It was the last football game I went to until Tripp had to attend the varsity game at Briarcrest for elementary night four years ago. That awful body-shaming comment stuck with me and I finally realized after many years the reason it did is because I was depressed. The first two years of college were depressing for me, and honestly, I should have been seeing a therapist. I didn’t have a boyfriend (with no dates or prospects for dates), didn’t have that many friends in college and was depressed. (Again, a post for another time.)

Like most women, I hate how I look in pictures. I can find a flaw in nearly every photo and frankly, can be pretty hard on myself. I don’t think I am alone in this practice. But this picture of us on our 16^th wedding anniversary in May was the final straw for me.

Our 16th Wedding Anniversary. Tom looks nearly identical to the day we got married. Me, not so much!

 

Sure, we aren’t dressed up and are heading to a baseball game. Sure, I don’t have any makeup on. Sure, we are sitting on the tailgate of a pick up truck. But honestly, I was taken aback. I tried to make excuses: It must be the shirt. It must be the lighting. It must be how I was sitting. It must be that I’m not wearing makeup. No, it was me. I finally realized this was what others saw when they saw me. It was the most uncomfortable in my skin I had ever been. Surgery was something I had to do. I had my doubts before, but I finally realized that it was the only way I could be healthier. I had to do it.

 
Now, four weeks post-surgery, I am healthier and I’m certainly more comfortable in my own skin. It’s a long journey and I have a long way to go, but I’m in it for the long haul. I’m doing better physically, but also mentally. Guess I will just have to get even more comfortable in my own (saggy) skin.