pcos weight loss Archives

Look ma, I got my hair done!

July 9, 2017 by coachshelby Leave a Comment

Oh, hey friends! Look who was a big girl and got her hair done (since the first time in September)? This girl right here.

I am so picky about my hair. I am not that obnoxious client. But I have had my share of hair traumas. You know, the kind where you say, ” I don’t care what you do as long as it’s not red!” And you walk out of the salon with fire engine red hair.

So after moving, I hesitated. Hesitated is too light of a word.

Avoided completely.

I avoided completely finding and trying a new hair girl.

Until I met my girl, Corbin. She’s in my facebook PCOS group. We met for what was supposed to be a big Georgia girls meetup and turned into me and her day drinking wine and eating calamari.

That’s a story for another time but I now call her one of my BFFs.

So I spent the day driving up to see her to get my hair done and have a girls night.

I went from this.

To this.

She’s amazeballs.

(If anyone is in Hiawassee, Ga and needs a good hair girl- let me know and I’ll get you in touch.)

What has everyone else been up to?

My son is off school all next week so I will spend it meal prepping and blogging and starting our dietbet. ( Cheat meal going downnnnnn tonight.)

I’ll be back soon!

Just had to pop in with this bomb dot com hair!

Originally posted 2016-02-14 11:05:28.

" Just be brave. And be kind. That's all you ever need to be."

July 9, 2017 by coachshelby 1 Comment

I’m gonna hit you with all the feels right now.

In our PCOS FB group, we’re doing a #positivitypause to take a break from all the sad and fill our wall with happy.

And I feel we need some perspective.

God knows I do lately.
I haven’t felt good. I have 2 cysts causing a lot of pain. And when I’m in pain, I’m a mean grumpy carb eating, not so nice words saying troll.

And I know it. But sometimes it’s hard to reel in. You get caught up in the negative. The pessimist mind set. Moaning. Complaining. Blaming others and life for all your misery.
And then last night, as I rolled my eyes and said something not so nice under my breath, which then made me star crying as I noticed my son watching my terrible behavior, he said to me…

” It’s okay momma. Just be brave. And be kind. ”

That was it.

My snap back to reality breaking point to get me out of the chunky dunk funk pool I was swimming in.
You see, I I haven’t yet talked on this blog about my sons health struggles, but if you follow me on Instagram or are in the Facebook group you’ve heard my sons story. The health struggles he’s endured. The life threatening condition hes lived with and handled with grace and dignity of an old soul is an amazing thing for this mama bear to see.

Throughout the rough years, the blood transfusions, the hospital stays, the fear- I was clueless. I didn’t know how to make his world better. And he’d ask me with his little 2 year old voice ” momma what do I do? ”

So I just kept telling him “Just be brave. And be kind. That’s all that ever matters”. And it’s become my mantra to him.
Over the last six years, I didn’t think he was listening.

They’re always listening.
And sometimes it takes your six year old to remind you to get your shit together, suck it up, life can be a lot tougher. harder. Scarier.
So today I will remember to just be brave and be kind.

Because, in the end- that’s all you ever need to be.

( This is one of my favorite pictures. Not just because of his damn chubby cheeks from lots of steroids. But because it reminds me if he can be that strong, GOD damn it- I can, too)

Originally posted 2016-02-09 08:28:11.

Goodbye Dietbet. Hello Wine.

July 9, 2017 by coachshelby 2 Comments

This month, I ran a Dietbet. I also must have been smoking crack or high on Christmas spirit, but I also committed #noboozeJanuary. And this month has felt like one long ass Monday without my wine. It’s been hard reintroducing the scale back into my life. I had broken up with her so long ago, and for good reasons. I was using it as the sole measurement of my success, and the truth was, it was hindering my progress. I gave it up and started using progress pictures and measurements and how I felt overall as gauge of my progress.

But I wanted to challenge myself. Not only to lose the weight, but also to break the mental mind game I had with the scale. I wanted to prove to myself that even if the number didn’t change, and I lost my 10 dollar buy in, I was still okay with myself because my success is not dictated by a number.

And most importantly, I wanted to help others. Even if I didn’t win, and didn’t drop a single pound, if it helped and motivated someone else to succeed, that was enough for me.

Pre Dietbet weigh in: up 6.4 pounds from the holidays

So the first weigh in happened right at prime chubby time- post holidays and all the carbs and wine and Christmas candy. I really gave literally no sh*ts about what I put into my body over the holidays. And the scale showed. I was up 6.4 pounds. And I was responsible for every single one.

Seeing the number on the scale, as well as the motivation I got from the 5oo women participating with me was enough to get my ass back on track. I got back in the gym. Not just when I felt like it. Every day. I tracked my marcos meticulously. I hit them most every day. And most importantly of all, I gave up the mommy juice.

I didn’t step on the scale for the first time until a week into it.

I have been kicking ass. The scale is DEFINITELY going to reflect it.

WRONG.

I am only down 1 lb? ONE?

And I knew it. Old habits were sneaking back in. I started doing the scale dance. ALL.THE.TIME.

*Step on scale*

Shit. This can’t be right.

*Step on scale again*

HELL NO. This thing is straight up lying to me.

*Go pee*

Okay this is ridiculous.

*Trims split ends*

You get my point. The scale dance took over my life. And it controlled how I felt. So two weeks in, I finally did what was best for me. I put that thing back in the closet. I was not going to let it control how I felt about my progress. I knew I was kicking ass. I knew I was feeling good and healthy and making progress. I am not going to live in a state of being controlled by a plastic electronic device. Screw you, scale. You don’t know me. You don’t know my life.

This past week, I stepped it up. I started drinking all my water. I was getting extra time in at the gym. I ate cleaner than a ever. And most importantly I didn’t get on the scale.

Last time I checked, I still had 1.5 lbs to go.

I worked my butt off to try to get it off, but I also accepted that it might just not happen. PCOS can make weight stubborn and act like a rude houseguest that doesn’t get the hint to get the hell out. I had to be okay with it if it wasn’t where I wanted it to be.

So I woke up this morning, fully prepared for my goal not to be reached. I just chalked it up to a good motivation for the month, and was determined to keep on pushing.

I hyped myself up to get on.

I can't believe it! — I can’t believe it!

*149.8*

For real? Let me just double check.

*149.8*

Oh man, scale. You just made my life. I hit my goal by the skin of my teeth (0.2 lbs)

I quickly snapped a picture and sent it in for verification.

I was ecstatic.

And I promptly went about making myself a plate of celebratory chocolate chip protein pancakes. I deserved the treat for this past month. And I started pulling down which bottle of wine I wanted to crack open tonight.

Until I remembered,

Shit. I am not verified yet. I might have to reweigh. And I won’t be where I was this morning after that glutinous pancake feast. Fool.

And I’ve been sitting here, stressing all morning. Waiting for the verified email to come through. Because I know if I got on that scale again it might not be as nice. I had pancake bites this morning that weighed 0.2 lbs. That .2 lbs stood between being a winner and being a loser.

And then I got my shit together, and realized- I’m not a loser at all. I kicked ass. I feel amazing. I helped others lose. I am proud of myself. So whether I have to reweigh or not, I know who the real loser is. The scale. Because it does not control how I feel about myself. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

I'm coming for you, Pinot Grigio. See you tonight. — I’m coming for you, Pinot Grigio. See you tonight.

If you are interested in joining my next dietbet, let me know and I will get you the link! We will start February 15th, just in time to bypass the Superbowl snacks and Valentine’s chocolate.

Originally posted 2016-02-01 14:19:24.

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