This is what can happen in 364 days.

So, tomorrow will be the one year anniversary of my gastric bypass surgery. I would have waited until tomorrow to write about it, but I'll be in a van full of women and babies driving nine hours to the Outer Banks of North Carolina to a house on the icy cold beach where we will meet up with even more women and babies and have a weekend that will force the writers of Webster's Dictionary to come up with a new definition for awesome because the current definition will no longer suffice.

Don't worry, you'll get to read all about it and be jealous.

Anyway.

My surgery.

364 days ago I looked like this.

Now I look like this.

And in between I looked like this.

I started out at 305 pounds and am now at 149 pounds. I started out wearing a size 28 and now wear a size 6. Will and I have the same waist measurement. I fit in his jeans (granted, there's a little muffin top involved...). Have you met Will? He's a beanpole. Me being able to fit into his clothes is a big deal.

But wait, there's more!

I've stopped needing insulin, blood pressure medication, cholesterol medication and a daily aspirin to keep me from having a heart attack at 34. I exercise 6 days a week, I seek out exercise classes that will make me beg for mercy, I drag friends on freezing cold 13 mile bike rides and I'm halfway through a course to become a personal fitness trainer (which, if I can get past my social anxiety and awkwardness, I think will be my dream job).

Of course, the past year has also left me with this.

I'm hoping the next 366 days will involve its removal.

And some new boobs.

A lot can happen in a year.