I've been power walking three miles a day, sometimes four, and only taking one day off every fourth or fifth day. A few weeks ago, I added three-pound dumbbells to my walk, doing punches, lifts, and stability movements with the weights for the entire routine. I've also been charting my exercise stats and my food intake online with MyFitnessPal. Sometimes I forget to record it, but I know I've been consistently "good," still eating clean and staying within my recommended calorie range. In addition, I've been doing more strength training by adding an eight-minute upper body routine with five-pound dumbbells, repeating it three times (24 minutes!) after every walking session.
But I haven't been seeing any change in the way my clothes fit, or the number on the scale.
About a week ago, in a last ditch effort to produce some results, I started doing a "boosted walking" routine. I also pump the three-pound dumbbells the whole time during this new routine, except during the two minute "boosted" segments. And yes, "boosted walking" is exactly what you think it is--it's jogging intervals.
SAY WHAT?! The girl who said she'd NEVER….. is JOGGING?
Yes. Yes, I am. Because I am just... that… fucking... desperate.
This girl, who used to eat cheesecake for breakfast, is so desperate to lose weight or inches, or see any kind of a change, that she's jogging. Of course, it requires me to wear two sports bras, a regular bra, and a compression tank. It's still extremely uncomfortable, and I still have to hold my "monsters" down, but I am jogging for short intervals every day.
And, drumroll please…… Still no results.
Today, my scale shows 178 pounds. Only down two pounds from my starting weight eleven weeks ago. That's up three pounds from my lowest point. So you say, "But you're gaining muscles, and your clothes must be fitting better!!" No. Not really. Some days, I have been able to tighten up my bra one row of hooks. I can now button the fly of a couple pair of shorts that were a little too snug. But I certainly have not dropped a full size, or any significant weight or inches.
Extreme disappointment and despair are starting to creep in. I didn't expect to be anywhere near my goal by now, but I did expect more than this. I'm killing myself for no results.
I'm not the crying kind of girl, but the tears of frustration start to form even as I write the words "eleven weeks & no results."
Unfortunately, I've done this before. About 18 months after my brain surgery, after gaining 40+ lbs, my neurosurgeon gave me clearance to enroll in a kickboxing & strength training program. I was terrified of getting kicked in the head, but I went religiously 5-6 days a week and followed a strict eating plan for five months.
I lost a disappointing six pounds. I was killing myself, I HATED it, and it wasn't producing results for me even though I was doing everything right. Frustrated with the lack of results, and busy preparing for our move to Belize, I simply gave up. I dumped my workout and nutrition plan like I would a deadbeat husband.
But that experience, and my current lack of results, is partly why I believe something in my body's chemistry or composition changed drastically during (or after) the trauma of my brain surgery. Something, chemically or otherwise, isn't allowing my body to shed the weight I gained during my recovery. I've spent a lot of time researching this subject in the last three years, and it's complicated, but I believe something is not right. Something that simply moving more and eating less is not correcting. 
So, I'm going to seek some professional help. In the next couple weeks, I will be traveling to Mexico to see an internist, a specialist who can do some testing to see if there is something "off" in my body. I'm going run the gamut of specialized testing, including levels of insulin, cortisol, iodine, estrogen, testosterone, ferratin, as well as check adrenal gland functions, liver functions, and test for inflammation and immune deficiencies. I am hoping it will give me some answers. It's a long ways to travel, and a lot of testing to be done, but hopefully, I will discover what is making my body refuse to let go of the pounds and inches.
But my vow to not quit is being severely tested. Everyday I can't help thinking while I exercise, "Why bother? I hate it, it makes me work hard, get sweaty, and still it's not doing anything for me."
I'm pretty unhappy, and if my exercise plan were a man, I'd dump his ass. Right now.But I'm going to think of the tests as "relationship counseling." It is my hope that these tests, like good counseling, will provide a little light in the dark tunnel of my despair. I will not quit until I find some answers.
And maybe with those answers, my "lose weight, gain health" project and I can find a way to live together harmoniously. But I will not quit until I find some answers. Or get some results. Or die trying.
