Introducing the Amazing Susan!

This past weekend my spouse and I accompanied our high school senior on college tour. All I could think about is when she was two and would want to play stage with me. It was my job to say in a loud booming voice, “Introducing the amazing, the talented and the wonderful Susan!” She would then come out on to the ‘stage’ dressed in that way that two year olds think is fashion and entertain me for a few minutes with a dance or a song. I would clap and then she would be ready to do it again in a new outfit and new act.

It’s hard to believe she is now planning for college. She is an amazing and talented person. She was diagnosed with a learning disability in the third grade. She struggled with school and the label. However, she never let that label define or limit her.

In seventh grade she called an emergency IEP (Individualized Education Plan) meeting when she found out they would not let her take band. Talk about guts. She was ready to take on the whole school. She spoke in a very grown-up way at the meeting and explained that she knew what was best for her. They let her take band and she did great continuing on into high school when she lost interest.

Knowing how hard school was for her in high school I actually encouraged her to take easier classes but she had other plans. Against the advice of her school counselor and teacher of record she decided not to take any more LD classes. The amazing part was not that she decided not to take LD classes but that she decided she would be earning an honors diploma and taking AP classes.

All of the professionals that tested her, retested her, and reviewed her scores and advised her to do the opposite of what she did; she proved wrong.
Walking around the campus of that college and thinking about her being two I just wanted to scream out, “Introducing to the world the amazing the talented, the talented, and the wonderful SUSAN!”

Look out world.

Weighing In

It will be two years in January since I made the choice to lose weight. The actual weight loss journey started the year before that. It started when I decided to be honest with myself.

I avoided scales. I told myself that I was more than a number. I didn’t need a number to define who was or what kind of day I was going to have. (I still believe this.) The honest truth to that statement at the time was that I was not ready to be truthful with myself. I wasn’t ready to admit that my weight was a sign of other things gone wrong in my life. I was not ready to admit that my weight made it difficult to enjoy certain activities. I didn’t want to see the number on the scale because I didn’t want to know the other truths.

Lavender moves in. She is the most honest person I know. (If you don’t believe go ahead and take a picture of yourself next time you want an honest opinion on how you look in that outfit.) With her honesty and her stuff came a bathroom scale. I was honestly surprised when I weighed in at 260. I sat with that information for a year. Then I decided to do something even more honest and I agreed to let Lavender take my measurements. Honestly, it felt good to be honest with myself. However, it was hard.

Over the next few months I got to know my body. I knew that I was going to ‘gain’ five pounds before I started my period. That for some reason the right combination of salt, lime juice, and tequila the night before would show up as seven pounds on the scale but that it was no reason for alarm.

I watched the pounds leave my body. I met my goal weight and then some. It was when I was training for the marathon that I knew I needed to use the scale for a new kind of honesty. I needed to make sure I was feeding my body. Eating enough food to maintain my weight with all of the running I was doing was sometimes scary. I used the scale to keep myself in check.

I think scales are a tricky thing. I think weight is a tricky thing. It is personal. I say if stepping on scale does more harm than good for you, you should stay away. This doesn’t actually go here but I also want to warn people at the harm they do when they call a certain weight fat. I don’t care what the number is for a healthy weight. Where do you feel healthy? That should be the question.

I am not a number on the scale. When I wake up and see a +7 on the scale instead of panic, I try and remember a fun night of margaritas.

One day I hope to be honest enough with myself that I don’t need a scale. Until then I hope I can use it honestly as a tool and not against myself.