Another New Adventure

A little over ten years ago, I was creeping my way towards an Associate's degree in photography. I loved all of my art classes, dreaded general ed, and overall had a pretty good time. Two years in, though, I packed up and moved to D.C. without any plans to transfer or finish the degree. It's lurked in the back of my mind since then, that unfinished degree. Yet another project that I started but left incomplete (kind of like how I waited three years to take my NCE).

I've been thinking about school off and on for at least a year. I wasted some time (and money!) going to nail school in the hopes that it would satisfy my "back to school" urge. Of course, it didn't. I pore over anatomy books and pathology books and journal articles under the guise of making myself a better massage therapist. But it's just not enough. I need more. And I need that lingering unfinished business to be done. So I finally bit the bullet; I drove down to the old community college and got a copy of my transcripts -- just to see where I left off.

In my memory, I was a good student. I remember going to classes, getting along with instructors, doing projects, the works. But one look at my transcripts and other memories come back: long nights of drinking at O'Sullivan's, failing tests because of hangovers, looks of disappointment from teachers who really, really liked me and wanted me to excel. With a few exceptions (Biology, Spanish, and Math, surprisingly), my grades were TERRIBLE. I was at school for two years and I'm left with about four classes that will count towards my new degree path. Oy.

So what IS that new degree path? Well, certainly not photography (although if I went back to that, I'd have a whole lot less work to do). I love photography; it's still my hobby. But it's a useless degree at this point in my life, and I don't want photography to be my job. What DO I want, what do I really want, and honestly what HAVE I wanted since I was a kid?

I want to be a doctor.

Saying that out loud, even typing it is scary. It's a scary secret that I've harbored for a very long time. How many times did I tell people I wanted to be a painter, a writer, a massage therapist, a photographer -- anything BUT a doctor. How long have I lied to myself about what I really want? My whole life, it feels like. I kept it a secret because I didn't believe I was smart enough to pull it off. I kept it a secret because deep down I was scared that I WAS smart enough, and oh God, what if I was smart enough and I wasted all those years in high school smoking pot and watching surf movies and riding around in Jeeps and doing anything BUT going to school?! It's a horrible catch-22 of self-defeating thoughts, low self-esteem, regret, and sheer terror.

Time to snap out of it, now. NOW, with the urgency and intensity Cher in "Moonstruck" slapping Nicholas Cage. I believe it of my body -- my body can do anything I want it to. So why not believe it of my brain? Of my life?

I'm aware that the road I'm choosing is long, arduous, and marked with heavy tolls. I'm aware that to get those two magical letters, MD, requires about seventeen years of school and more debt than I can even imagine. I'm aware that it's entirely possible I'll get back into college classes and absolutely hate it. I'm going into this with my eyes wide open. But, dammit, I'm going.

I have to do this. It's as essential to me as my weight loss has been. I cannot live the rest of my life without at least trying to reach this goal.

I'm really going to do this. I have butterflies in my stomach as I browse the catalogs, track degree paths, compare schools. I imagine myself acing insanely difficult classes like Organic Chemistry and feel that indescribable "SQUEEEEEE!" (Don't judge -- Whitman had his yawp, I've got my squee.)

In about five days, I'm registering for classes. I'm taking the first teetering, toddling steps towards a huge, long-term goal. I'm doing this.

Are you ready?

"Loft"y Goals

Hubs took the day off work today. Our original plan was to spend the day in the yard, cleaning up flower beds, planting, and such. But the weather did not agree with us. It was cold and rainy -- not ideal "let's get outside" weather. So what did we do? We decided to have a day date, and headed to the mall for window shopping and a movie.

At the mall, I pulled Hubs into one of my dream stores...Ann Taylor Loft. (Try not to laugh -- far beneath my tattooed, formerly punk-rock exterior lies a very preppy girl who would happily spend her days in a pencil skirt and a cardigan.) I have never, ever in my adult life been able to try on (let alone purchase) clothes from this store. It's always been out of my size range and my price range. But I love the clothes. They're simple, well made, and just...the kind of clothes I'd like to wear.

We walked around the store, and I pointed out things that I liked. A blouse, a dress, an outfit. It never crossed my mind to try anything on until I saw this jacket. I am an absolute sucker for a trench coat (maybe it's my inner flasher!), and I love dark denim. I saw the price tag ($98! What in the ham sandwich!) and quickly inventoried the rack to see what the largest size was. L. Large. Big sigh. There's no way, I thought. The trench I have at home is a XXL from Old Navy. There's no way a Large from Ann Taylor -- land of the teeny tiny ladies -- would even fit over my monster shoulders! But I decided to pull it off the hanger anyway, just for a laugh. Just to confirm what I already knew, that my big sausage arms and flabby belly wouldn't fit, that I'd end up looking like Chris Farley from that famous scene in "Tommy Boy."


"Fat man in a little coaaaat..."

But lo and behold! That doggone trench FIT. And not super tight, second skin, if I starve for a week and put on some Spanx "fit," I mean it ACTUALLY FIT. I was so excited. I knew we couldn't afford it, and it didn't even upset me that I couldn't have it. And the look on my husband's face...he was so happy for me, so proud of me.

Just knowing that jacket is hanging up in my dream store, and it fits me...that's enough. It's enough to know that my hard work is paying off, that all these years and months of struggling have gotten me so far, that the days when I'll be able to fit into EVERYTHING at Ann Taylor are not far away. It's enough.

GPOYW and HOLY COW!

Thanks to Photojojo, I recently discovered a fun intarwebs trend called "Gratuitous Picture Of Yourself Wednesday" or GPOYW. Apparently everybody likes to do self-portraits on Wednesdays, and who am I to argue? They're fun, and on Wednesdays I usually don't have much to write about here. So, here's my first one:

Aside from the fact that I need some waxing and a fashion intervention, I think I look pretty good! Not bad for somebody who got hacked open on the operating table less than a week ago.

But what's "HOLY COW" about, you may be wondering. Well, right after I snapped this picture, I grabbed my phone and called to set up my NCE test date. HO. LY. COW! I can't believe I'm finally going to get this done. My test is on March 20th, so feel free to send good ju-ju my way on that day.

Just to clarify why this is such a big deal...I graduated from massage school in 2007. That's right, THREE YEARS AGO. And I never signed up for my certification test, until now. What's even worse is that I went through school TWICE because I didn't finish all the program requirements the first time. Anyway! That's the past! Now I'm done with school, I've scheduled my test, and before long I'll be free from the Green Apron Empire and on my way to building a successful massage therapy practice.

I'm A Visual Person

I made a sort of project board in my office to keep track of the three big goals I have for this year (NCE, AAS, and esthetics school). It's a daily reminder for me. Whenever I'm about to get distracted with Facebook, or Twitter, or wandering around the internet, I look at this board.

What visual reminders (if any) do YOU use to stay on track?

Spark!

I was looking for a good calorie counter/exercise tracking app for my Blackberry yesterday. When I discovered that Lose It (the one I really wanted) is only available for the iPhone, I was a little disappointed. But then I stumbled onto SparkPeople.com. My friend Luce had told me about this site a while ago, and I'd completely forgotten about it. Well, they have all the trackers I need, and more.

One of the cool things about this site is that they help you set specific goals, something I really suck at (just ask Smith). I tend to be very vague and/or overambitious. I think it's easier to quit if you're not specific. The things I'm focusing on this week are water consumption (I've been slacking), exercise, and tracking my calories. I think this will be a good compliment to what I'm already doing with Smith.

Smith is out of town this week, which is kind of a bummer. I've gotten back on track with my running after that month of inactivity, and I was looking forward to starting with weights this week. Of course, there's a good chance he'll read this, and I'll get a text message saying something like "Aww, you miss me? ADD A HALF MILE TO YOUR RUN."

Speaking of running...I took a big leap yesterday and signed up for my very first 5K run. My dear darling Peggy talked me into it, and this post from Sundry, one of my favorite bloggers ever, was extremely inspirational. I do need to take on something ass-kicking, something I think is impossible. I need a goal, and a deadline.

So, on December 5th, I'll be doing my truffle shuffle around the local university campus. Hopefully I don't die. Or barf. But if I do, at least it'll be for a good cause!

Doable

I have learned a very important lesson:

DO NOT BE A SMARTASS WITH YOUR TRAINER.

Smith called last night to set up a a time to train together this coming Saturday. In the course of the conversation, I told him that his wife (a friend of mine) told me he thought I was "cheating" by eating a banana for breakfast instead of what I serve the Hubs (bacon and eggs). "I'm NOT cheating!" I insisted.

He seems to think I've completely revamped my eating habits (something he specifically told me NOT to do) and that I'm "fighting dirty" by feeding Hubs more food than I eat. Not true -- I'm just not a big breakfast person. I got a little whiny with him, and tried to get off the phone by telling him I had to go do my second half-mile run for the day. "Oh? Well why don't you go ahead and add another quarter mile to that."

Blargh. But here's something amazing: I DID THE FREAKIN' THREE-QUARTERS OF A MILE. Not a big deal to the super-fit. To me? Huge deal. I ran all of it, no walking, no stopping, not even for the first tenth of a mile where I usually walk to warm up (I did a slow jog instead). And when I was done, it occurred to me for the first time that if I can run a mile, I can run three miles, and that's a 5K. Holy achievable goal, Batman!

236

This is where I begin: only three pounds shy of my highest recorded weight.

I've decided to chronicle my latest weight-loss journey here. I need something separate from my regular blog, something just about my weight. I want to figure out how I got here, and why I've stayed at this weight for so long. I've tried many times, both successfully (at least for a little while) and unsuccessfully to do this.

My ultimate goal is to reach my "ideal" weight, about one hundred pounds lower than my current weight. In the short term? Stop feeling like crap every day. Get out of the plus-sized clothes. Feel better about myself and what I put into my body.

So, pull on your big-girl panties, 'cause we're in for a heck of a ride!