blogging,  weight loss

martina is losing it #27

It is currently Sunday night. I’m fighting the Sunday Sadness by watching the new Four Weddings and a Funeral on Hulu because Mindy Kaling is behind it and I can only re-watch The Mindy Project so many times. Luckily, I haven’t exceeded that limit so I’ll probably turn it on later.

God, I miss that show.

Anyway, we’re here for an update, right? Let’s begin.

First, I should mention that I changed my weigh in day to Monday. I’ll explain why in a minute. That being said, by the time this goes up my grand total may be different, but in the long run, who cares because my updates are coming so infrequently.


As of my last weigh in, I am down a grand total of 90.7 pounds.

ninety point seven.

i can’t even.

I didn’t even know I could count that high. My brain cannot fathom it. I know I say that every time but… it really can’t.

My cousin is 3 and weighs 36 pounds. His sister is 9 months and weighs, I don’t know, 15 pounds? (Amanda, if you’re reading, please confirm.) I’ve lost just about 2 Chases and a Victoria. Basically, I’ve lost 3 children and maybe a few of their toys. You can’t even hold 3 children at once. Not that I’ve ever tried, but I assume I wouldn’t be any good at it.

If you remember from my last post I mentioned that I thought I was plateauing. I spoke to Jessica’s mother in law, who is a retired nurse, and she told me that the body can hold up to 5 pounds of water and the Monday loss is a legitimate loss. I asked if she thought if I changed my weigh in day to Monday, if it was cheating and she said no. So, with Felicia’s blessing I now weigh in on Monweigh. I hope this one (tomorrow, as I write this) goes well. I’ll let you know in about a month.

If you saw this Instagram post, you’d know that when Nicole sent me the picture on the left, it took me a second to realize it was me. I was slightly shook (do the kids use that phrase anymore?). I couldn’t believe it was me. The picture on the left was taken at Jessica’s wedding. I let the hairstylist do whatever she wanted with my hair. I asked the makeup artist for winged eyeliner. I thought I looked like Adele. I was spray tanned, had two bras on and my sturdiest Spanx were holding it all together. I felt good that day. A hair and makeup team will do that to a girl. Deep down though, I knew it wasn’t how I wanted to look. I wanted to wear the dress that the other girls were wearing. At first it was decided that I would wear something different because I was the officiant, but the other part of the reality was although the dress everyone else wore fit each girl perfectly, no matter what their size or shape, it wasn’t going to happen for me. The Sisterhood of the [Magical] Dress did not include me.

The picture on the right was taken last month at Jessica’s son’s baptism. I did my own hair, I used a pizza themed eye shadow palette on my eyes. I had zero Spanx on. I was wearing the highest heels I had ever worn in my life. Still a sensible wedge, but a high one. I never felt better. I was confident. I felt pretty. Not wearing Spanx will do that to a girl.

for reference: those flowers also weighed about 90 pounds. so, i’ve either lost 3-ish children or a bridesmaid bouquet.

My mom was getting her hair done the other day. I’ve known her hairstylist for a long time and he knows that I am on this journey. The salon was busy so everyone was in and out of each other’s conversations. He asked my mom how I was doing, how much I had lost. She was filling him in and showing him a recent picture when another woman came in to the conversation and congratulated my mom and then proceeded to ask, “how did she let herself get that big?” (my mom had shown the collage ^^ four paragraphs above this) My mom responded by saying “it doesn’t matter how or why she got that big, what matters is she saw what needed to be done and she’s doing it.” Some people, man.

I’m taking this NSV with a grain of salt, but it’s an NSV so I’ll take it any way. I went to Old Navy the other day for some jeans. I didn’t have time to try anything on so I just bought what I liked and tried everything on at home. I normally hate shopping like that because it usually leads to me having to go back to the store to make a return/exchange. It’s time consuming. Anyway, I didn’t like how any of the jeans I picked up fit. The waist and rise was fine, but the legs weren’t doing it for me. I picked up a pair of sweatpants in an XXL that were huge. Like, they probably wouldn’t have stayed up big. I also got a sweater that fit, but the underarms were down to my hips. I went back to Old Navy and got the sweatpants in a large (they fit not how I’d like them to. they’re heavy so i have some time before I need to wear them.) and the sweater in a medium. A MEDIUM. I don’t ever remember being a medium in my life. I went from 5T to an XL. Not really, but maybe. I don’t remember. I also got a NY Giants tee shirt in an XXL because the licensed tees generally run small, but I could have probably sized down. I’m taking this with a grain of salt because I feel that Old Navy generally runs big, but A MEDIUM. That’s one size away from a small. It was surreal seeing myself in the dressing room mirror. I finally saw how little my body is becoming. I still have work to do, and maybe I should Youtube some lower stomach exercises to address that situation, but DAMN.

They say it takes 8 weeks for you to see the change. While I’m sure that’s true, it’s been almost 18 months and I’m just now starting to see just how tiny I am. Part of it is that I’m still going for the bigger size when I shop. I’m doing most of my shopping online, so it’s hard to judge.

Speaking of new clothes, I am buying them like I have Kim Kardashian’s wallet. The thing is, every time I hang them up, I get so nervous that this is all going to go away. “I hope if these don’t fit next year, it’s because they’re too big,” I say to myself and the panic sets in. Every time I fill a bag of past life clothes to donate, the thought of “I hope I won’t need these again” flashes through my mind. I know I’ve said this or some version of it before but the worry is real. I know that my success or my failure depends entirely on me but what if I AM plateauing and the scale doesn’t move (or worse goes up) for a few weeks at a time? That would kill me. I try very hard to not be negative because being that way doesn’t help at all. But when that anxiety monster comes a-knocking.. woof.

I think that’s all I have for today. Let’s keep our fingers crossed this Monweigh (tomorrow, as I write this) goes well!

Love you, mean it.

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