Dear high school me...

Ok, no reason to hide embarrassing photos on here. I wanted to share a facebook message that one of my friends sent me. She is in high school, I know her through the Y. What a reminder that my struggle is universal. I wish I had her thoughts when I was her age, her boldness when I was in high school, her confidence to step out and make changes in her heart. I wonder where I would be today if I had gotten started when she did...

So enjoy this photo of high school me. But really, enjoy this message from my bold high school friend. (and don't worry, I asked her permission to share this on the blog!)

Hey liz, i just wanted to say that you are such an inspiration to me. nobody knows but i have been struggling with food since freshman year (which doesnt seem a lot but every day seems to go by so slowly). ive tried telling my mom but i don't think she quite understands because she thinks i can control it. these past 4 years have been a complete rollercoaster ride when it came to that area of my life- i'd have good days and just horrible ones. 

Sometimes i feel like once i start i really can't stop myself because i just want more and more and no matter how many times i tell myself that i'll regret it later, i just convince myself to eat more and give into my cravings. I was always embarrassed by it, especially eating in public because i know people take notice..so i'd either eat nothing at all or everything in sight. this addiction did not help with my high school girl self esteem at all and sometimes i'd just want to die because of how much i hated myself for loving food so much. but then i saw you post a link to your blog and i started keeping up with it. it's truly helped me through times i thought i couldn't take any more of it. i have recently began eating a more healthy diet and it's comforting to know i'm not alone when it comes to worrying about food.

so basically, i just want to say thank you. thank you for sharing your story and your journey through your blog, thank you for being such a light to the world because the presence of God shines so brightly in you, and thank you for being amazing. You are truly my inspiration(:

Alone in a crowd.

Check out this email that a friend of mine (her blog is here) just sent me. It was the answer to my question that I sent her: Why did you start losing weight in the first place? She has lost 122 pounds. Yes, you read that right. 

I was looking for inspiration from her. But what I got was a lot deeper. I got communion with a friend I've never met, and a reminder that I am not alone in my food addiction. I am hoping you see where she is coming from, too...

Sorry it took me so long to respond. I have been in a sucky place lately when it comes to eating AND exercise actually. I am not feeling either one but I am not feeling eating bad either. After I eat bad I feel like I did 122 pounds ago....the depressed girl that I once was. I started to lose weight because I was just down in the dumps, my life was a big mess and I had totally lost focus of God and his direction for my life. Lately I have almost been feeling the same way, I feel like I need a weight loss savior. I just read your blog about the cracks and the cinammon rolls also...I feel like you are writing my thoughts for me. Food is controlling me and I let it control me. I hate it, how long am I going to have to suffer this? I only lost .5lb this month and I know I can do better. I am getting closer to the 100s than I ever have before except I am slowly slipping back into my old habits. I was swimming and not doing any other exercise which didn't do much for me. I love swimming though, but I am exhuasted after I swim I don't want to do anything else! I feel like I have had to start over in the gym and I am back to 348lbs. Everytime I work out I feel like I am working out for the first time in my life. I don't enjoy that. I want progress! Right now I am so down about the entire situation and I don't know what to do. I looked at pictures from when I was in the 300s and that motivated me....for a day. Then I was at lunch and wanted ice cream along with everyone else....so I got ice cream. I was already so full how in the world did I pack ice cream in there? I don't know, I have a 5K Saturday that I am NOT ready for but I can NOT find motivation. What am I doing wrong? I guess long story short, I don't have an exact reason why I starting losing weight but I know that I feel so much better since I have. I don't want to be a failure, I don't want to gain this weight back but right now I feel like I am drowning in a huge pool of doubt with food being chained to my ankles! I am sorry this is such a depressing reply! I honestly feel like I am losing grip and it is the worst feeling ever. Maybe I need to give it to God, I don't know if I have fully given it over to him or not. I guess I haven't since I feel like I am all alone in this fight.

I don't have the answers for my friend...except to say that we are together in the wilderness. And you might be with us, too...

-Liz

Cracks in the foundation

I've been having a great few weeks. My eating has been on point, my work outs have been gettin' it, I'm back to losing weight and not going back and forth with the same 5 pounds.

Things are awesome!

Hold on, though. Can I be honest? Yesterday, my foundation got rocked. It was something small, that turned into something big, that eventually worked itself out. Except emotionally, it left me broken up.

Why so emotional? Because I was building my foundation on others, not on God. Let me explain.

My trainer told me that she couldn't train me anymore at the weekly time we always trained together and weighed in. No big deal, right? But this news put me into an emotional tailspin. For a second there, it looked like I was going to lose my weekly training sessions. We figured it out about an hour later. But what has stayed with me is this idea: "I can't do this without my trainer."

And that thought turned into this: "My trainer and those times with her are my foundation" which turned into "If  I lose her, I'm going to gain all my weight back."

So I have been sitting in these emotions for about 24 hours now. Where do these crazy thoughts come from? You see, I know the truth. I know that Jesus is my firm foundation. I know that the reason I am losing weight is to be the best version of me that I can be. I know that this is about pleasing God, and not other people. I know that I am worth it. I know that I can do it. I know that I am not defined by a number on scale.

But then again, I don't know it.

This situation last night has put some cracks in my foundation. Here I am, 18 months and 85 pounds into this, and I still feel like the fat girl that avoids rejection by being funny and loud and crazy. So when I had that momentary rejection last night, from someone that I have needed in this process with me, I went right back into that place in my head. Those lies. I have always, ALWAYS, been the biggest. In my class, in my family, in my group of friends, everywhere. It is harder than I thought to lose that persona, mentality.

How is it possible to know the truth and not believe it? How do I retrain my brain to think like the healthy person I have become?

On Christ, the solid rock, I stand. All other ground is sinking sand. All other ground is sinking sand.

Lord, help me to believe that.

-Liz

Stuck in a moment with food.

I had a meltdown yesterday. Let me tell you about it.

I was at a training for work. When I arrived to the training room, I grabbed a seat. And then I turned around to see the breakfast they provided. Bread, danish, bagels, and every other delicious sweet thing I could dream of. All within my reach.

This is, the perfect storm.

It's not funny at all, really. It was brutal. The craziest part was, for the better part of the morning, as people were talking to our group, all I was hearing was "cinnamon roll, raspberry danish, blueberry crumb cake."

Everyone around me, and I mean EVERYONE, was enjoying my drug of choice. How is this fair? The thing is, food will ALWAYS be an issue for me. And I get it, I get that everyone has their issue. But everyone else's issue isn't also the socially acceptable way to bring people together.

Food is everywhere. My drug of choice is everywhere. And yesterday, I was forced to sit in a small room while it stared at me for four hours. Do that to an alcoholic in a bar and see what happens.

My meltdown came as we were riding a bus to our next location. I was staring out the window, fighting back the tears. "Will food always have this hold on me?" No, I didn't eat anything that morning. But it invaded my thoughts so much that I couldn't pay attention to anything else. I was stuck in a moment that I couldn't get out of. U2. So wise.

Although the moment passed, I am realizing how deep my food issues run. I don't have an answer to this one, I guess I am just hoping that, if you are like me, you won't feel crazy for feeling this way. I feel crazy. I feel out of control sometimes. Those are the days that I have to go meal by meal, because even looking at the whole day is too overwhelming.

I'm fighting it. And the one comfort in all this...I know that God is fighting it with me.

-Liz

A world of firsts.

Last night I helped out with this big event for the Y called Youth and Government. It's 1700 kids from around the state of North Carolina, and they debate bills and do other awesome things to practice changing the world.

A good "before" pic from 2011.

I wanted to post some pictures from the night for a few reasons. Today marks the 6th day in a row that I have eaten REALLY well and worked out REALLY hard. To be totally honest, I have been half-assing it for a while now. A cheat meal here, a lost weekend there. Last Sunday I think I just hit a new low: going to Bojangles and eating all this stuff that is NOT good for me. Just because.

Monday was really hard. It definitely felt like the first day of rehab. It was hard not to snack. I wanted to eat junk food. I was fighting the cravings. Isn't this ridiculous? Food is my drug of choice and I can't forget just how powerful this drug is.

I weighed in with my trainer on Friday and I thought for sure that the scale would show my efforts from the week. It didn't. It really didn't. I think a few months ago if this happened, I would have gone home and eaten crap that wasn't good for me. Self-sabotage. But this week, I realized that I have come too far to do that. The scale is not showing my progress, but my emotions are. This is a victory.

Last night was wild...I had to dress like a fool (as seen in these photos). However, I will say that these camo overalls are amazingly comfortable so I highly recommend picking them up at your local Wal-Mart.

We rode around the Raleigh Convention Center in these mini-trikes for like an hour. It was the funnest thing in the world. (Yes, I know that "funnest" is not a word, back off me.) But the coolest part about it, for me, is that I could do it. That mini-trike wasn't too mini for me. And the pictures from the night, when I saw them, I was surprised. I see my body changing and I see someone new that I have never seen before.

Or I guess, she's been there all along, but now she's come out of hiding.

Awesome.

-Liz

Trike gang.

A harder picture has never been taken.

Calling all fence sitters!

I'm sitting on the fence.

Well, I have been sitting on the fence for a while now. Occasionally, I would hop off the fence. But I chose the wrong side more than the right one.

I know this, because I like to push the edges of safety. I was doing so great with my weight loss all last year. But after a few months, things slowed down. This is normal for anyone in a weight loss program. Even on the Biggest Loser, it happens. But when it happened to me, I panicked.

Panic led to bad decisions. Here was my reasoning: I'm working so hard and not losing anything at all. So I might as well work less and "trick my body" to see if that changes anything.

Oh, it did something allright. So began 3 months of half-assing this whole weight loss thing. A few great days followed by a cheat meal that turned into a cheat day that turned into a lost weekend. Over and over and over again.

I've had a few injuries here and there. But right now I am trying to come back from my biggest challenge: fence-sitting. I gotta get off the fence.

Today was a pretty serious low for me. I went to Bojangles and got food. By myself. I wasn't even that hungry. It was a pure food addiction moment. And it was great for about 5 minutes. But now, 8 hours later, I am still struggling and feeling bad about it.

The cool thing that came out of it? I told my roommate and another one of my close friends. I wasn't going to tell them. I wasn't going to tell anyone. But I realized pretty quickly, that if I am going to get off the fence and find myself on the right side, I have to quit acting like I have it all together.

Let me repeat that for those of us that struggle with this issue:

YOU HAVE TO QUIT ACTING LIKE YOU HAVE IT ALL TOGETHER.

That's the only way to get back the fire that I used to have. So come on. Jump off with me.

-Liz

This is a dangerous blog.

About two weeks ago, I hurt my back. Bad. I was running 2+ miles every day, and on the 5th day of that, my body fought me back.

I was laid up. I took a punch of pain medicine that I had left over from when I hurt my neck a few months ago, but then pushed myself too hard, didn't rest, and ended up in a worse spot than where I was before.

 

I finally sucked it up and went to the back specialists I have been to before. Steroids, muscle relaxers, pain killers, and x-rays, and I was in a sad state of not being able to stand or sit, let alone work out. For about a week. And in that time, I ate. A lot. I felt sorry for myself so I let some old friends back into my life and my misery.

And it made the misery worse.

Over the weekend, a few friends offered to pray for my back, to heal me. I reluctantly agreed. They had faith. I didn't. It felt a little better, but didn't really fix anything. I kept taking all the meds I was supposed to take, and I kept laying on the couch, waiting for things to improve.
Here's where it gets dangerous.

I've been going to this bible study at church about the Holy Spirit. Really, it's about the fact that we limit God to what we believe He can do. I believe God can only do some things. Because if I believe He can do ALL things, that would make my world really messy and force me to change. So I keep God in this neat little package and don't hope for too much.

Every week, the group asks who needs prayer for healing. Now let me remind you, a few months ago, I can't say that I believed in this stuff. It felt like a show on a low-budget cable station with the ultimate goal of getting money from unsuspecting viewers. But last night, I felt God calling me out, asking me "Liz, do you trust me?"

So I asked for prayer. And my friends prayed over my back. And my friend Hannah said "I feel like you need to go out and run down the hallway." So I did it. And I had no pain.

Remember, yesterday morning, I was completely crooked and could barely stand up straight. But last night, I looked like a fool, jogging down a church hallway.

I got home last night, and I didn't take any medicine. I didn't finish the steroids that I had, I didn't even take any ibuprofen. I felt like God wanted to show me that He could heal me completely.

Do I trust Him?

It's no secret that God wants to heal every single solitary part of our lives. But it's also no secret that I don't believe every single solitary truth about God. Can He do anything? Yes. Can He heal my physical pain? Yes. Does He love me unconditionally? Yes.

And the answers to all of those questions seem to shift like sand in my daily life. I have been healed, so why do I operate each day as if I haven't been?

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” - Matthew 7

Feeling foolish? Yeah. Me too.

-Liz