Nine Years Post-Gastric Bypass

September 13 marked nine years since I was gut-whacked; uh, I mean had laporoscopic gastric bypass surgery in San Diego, California. Nine years. You know, some times I do not remember what it was like to be morbidly obese. Then again, most of the time I never forget what being overweight was like.

A couple of days ago I bought a new pair of denim jeans: size 8. I was pretty disgusted with myself since at my lowest weight I could wiggle into a size 4 and at my best and most consistent weight I was quite comfy in a size 6. "How could you let yourself go like this?" I asked myself. Do we ever get over being our own worst critic?

Size 8 isn't so bad. In fact, on September 13, 1999 if you told me in nine years you will be a healthy and fit size 8 I would have thought I won the lottery. Size 8 wasn't imaginable: I was wearing a size 26-28 the day I arrived.

I'm still learning to work my tool and still have struggles. I dumped a few weeks ago after eating onion rings: 3 of them. I know greasy food makes me dump. I ate them anyway. On Wednesday I ate my breakfast too quickly and did not chew-chew-chew. You guessed it: I gave it up minutes later.

But for every struggle there are successes. I can run and play with my new puppy and not get winded. I can walk three miles on the treadmill in under 40 minutes, and still have energy to clean the house or work in the gardens. I can walk past the bakery counter without even noticing my former mistress: the glazed doughnut. More often than not I need to remember to eat rather than remember not to eat. I feel good. I feel healthy: both mentally and physically.

Sure, I would love to be back in my size 6 clothes and trust me I have a small boutique full of size sixes. But, maybe size 8 isn't so bad after all.