I follow a weight loss blog called Escape From Obesity. In her blog, Lyn has a lot of good things to say. And she is brutally honest, all the time. She doesn't avoid the blog when things aren't going the best, she puts it all out there. That has to be hard. But because she is willing to do that, it helps other people know that they're not "the only one" who's ever felt that way, or had that experience. She's given me a lot to think about.
So the other day this was the opening paragraph to a post she wrote, and I liked it. So I thought I'd post it here...(thanks, Lyn).
Sometimes I wish my "weight loss journey" was confined to a neat little box of my life... a specific nine months or year or a year and a half with a distinct beginning and ending marked by "before" and "after" pictures. But it's not like that. Oh, I started out *intending* it to be that way. That's what the media portrays, right? You "start", you lose the weight, you celebrate! You go on your way la-la-la to your perfect non-fat life. I don't know too many people who really have it like that, though. You don't see a whole lot of follow-up for the next three or five or ten years after people get to their goal. Maybe it's mostly a sham anyway. Most people I know, and most people I've followed online, struggle and regain. But we don't want to shine the spotlight on THAT. That's not the shiny gold star we want to see at the end. We want the pretty fairy tale.
It really is nice to know I'm not alone. =) I get going, doing a great job for a really long time, and I can tend to get cocky in my thinking, thinking I will always have it under total control for the rest of my life--never stumble, never backtrack. And then soon enough I stumble. I backtrack. So much for the fairytale in the pretty package, right?
But you know what? It's okay. The down times are ugly. It's all part of the process I guess. It's too late for me to turn back now. I will never be able to subscribe to the "fat and happy" mentality. The past couple of months that I have just had to focus on everything else, that I have spent eating whatever, whenever, wherever--I was not happy. I was a lot happier when I was on HCG eating 500 calories a day. I was a lot happier when I was on an almost 3-week long juice fast. I felt amazing. Fat and happy? I guess the past two months can serve as a reminder to me that there's nothing happy about it. Not at all. I can't even wear most of my own clothes. I wear stretchy pants and Jared's shirts most days. Not happy at all.
I am still doing pretty good though. My eating was pretty in check over the weekend. Today I got up and did another day of Jillian's 30 Day Shred, and then when my husband put on his running shoes to go out on a run after the video, I popped in my Gilad aerobics and did that. And it felt good. It's not close to what I was doing before, but it's a lot better than what I've been doing lately. And I didn't really even get out of breath--which is amazing, considering the fact that Gilad's workouts are killer! So that's that.
Before I go to bed tonight I'll get my new $29 DVD player hooked up to the tv in the garage, so it'll be all ready for me in case I decide to do some step aerobics in the morning.
This morning, pre-workout, I was at 212.7. Pretty depressing. But I'm glad it's not the 216.8 and climbing that it was last week.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Baby Steps
Well I made it three days on the juice fast that I was trying to do for seven days.
I did 1000 crunches for 3 days instead of the seven days I was going for. (I did do 500 on the 4th day, but then nothing).
I feel like I've been treading water, and I just can't get it together enough to start swimming so that I can be making that progress toward the shore.
I was really feeling like I was failing over and over and over again. I would wake up in the morning with that determined "fresh start" attitude, happy for a new day, a new chance. And every day I'd end up screwing up whatever it was I was trying to do. Most days I've been having a big ol' juice for breakfast...and that might have been the only good thing I did for myself that day, food-wise.
So I took a step back, and decided that I can't just go back to where I was. I can't just wake up one day and have it all together and be a weight loss super star. I got myself to the point where I need to "start over." When I juice fasted the first time, I had already been in super control of my diet and exercise for a long, long time. I had no cravings for anything else, and it didn't bother me. But right now I have been out of that mode for enough weeks that it's like asking myself to step on the top rung of a ladder when my feet are barely on the second or third step. I just can't reach it yet.
I decided that I would just do each day better than the last. I have had three days now with no sugar. I hate that it's only 3 days. Not too long ago I could have boasted months and months and months with no sugar. I hate that it reared its ugly head in my life again and took control over me for so long. Sugar is such bad news!
All I wanted to do was get rid of the sugar, to begin with. I knew that that had to be first. And I feel a TON better. For the past two days I have also been working on not eating between meals. I hate that it is so easy for me, now, to be cooking or doing whatever it is I'm doing, and grab this or that to pop in my mouth whenever I go in the pantry or whatever. For a while there meal time would come and I wouldn't be hungry for it. (I kept thinking of that "mom" saying we've all heard, maybe even said, "you'll spoil your dinner.") Yeah. So I would spoil my dinner. But I'd eat it anyway, because it was there!
So for the past few days my thing has been to try and not eat between meals. These days, eating 6 smaller meals a day is a popular diet trick. For me, it doesn't work. I can't continuously eat all day or that's what I'll do. I won't stop. I have to have clearly defined times when I eat, and then I have to turn off the switch and forget about food until the next meal. I've been doing a lot better. I have been able to turn off the switch a lot more and eat a lot less. I'm still eating too much. I haven't tracked on paper what I've eaten, I haven't counted calories or paid too much attention to food groups. I've been trying to avoid anything processed, I've been having a good vegetable juice for breakfast, and I've been staying away from sugar.
For now, it's good. The numbers on the scale have gone down every morning since I cut the sugar. Not by a lot, because I really am still eating too much. But for weeks now, almost every day the numbers were going up, sometimes by a little, sometimes by a lot. The only time those numbers would go down would be when I was trying the juice fast, but every time I quit, right back up they'd go.
On Thursday my husband got to do his PT at home instead of going in to work to exercise with his unit. So he got me up with him and we did day one of Jillian's 30 day shred video. It was easy. Way easy. And only 20 minutes. So I figured I'd go ahead and go for the 30 days. Who couldn't do an easy 20 minutes, right? Well, Friday morning he got me up and I told him no way. My body was sore!
(In my defense, on Thursday I spent most of the day organizing the garage, loading up the car with stuff for Good Will, moving furniture around, lifting, reaching, bending, etc. in order to get my garage all spiffy-ed up as a workout room. Now it's all clean and organized except for the corner that has the stuff I have listed on craigslist. The t.v. is set up, the mats are all layed out, my weights and my step bench and my big ol' exercise ball are out there, even the space heater--because it's still icy cold in the mornings around here, and a lot of mornings we're still waking up with snow. All I need is to get a DVD player, and I'll be ready to go).
So on Friday there was no way I was getting up early. I told Jared I'd do the 20 minutes when Lydia took her nap (yeah right) or after the kids went to bed (yeah right, but a little more likely than the nap time idea).
Then Jared got off work at lunch time, and it just happened to be a really nice day outside, so I decided to go for a walk when Lydia took her nap. I ended up going 4.5 miles! After the first mile, I started getting nagged and assaulted by the jogging idea. The thought process went something like this:
Why shouldn't I just pick a landmark ahead and just jog to it?
Because I haven't exercised for real for a long time, and just walking is enough for now.
But--I could just jog to that light pole up there.
But I don't want to.
Yes I do.
Seriously? This isn't what I signed up for today. I was only going to walk 2 or 3 miles, and I'm already committed to 4.5. Isn't that going the second mile (ha ha) already?
Yeah, so I'm good. No jogging.
But--I could just jog to that light pole up there.
Dang it! I guess I'm going to. Stupid jogging.
But I'm only doing this once. Then I'm walking.
So I'd jog. I started at one light pole, and jogged past the next light pole, and on to the next. Then I'd walk. And then:
Wow, that really wasn't so bad. I'm not really even out of breath. I expected my lungs to be burning. I expected myself to be gasping for air by this point.
Cool. I haven't totally lost it.
But that's it, I'm done. No more jogging.
I know I can't stop now, though. I'll just jog again after I've walked for a while.
But this isn't a jog, it's a walk. So I'm going to walk for a long time before I jog again.
Here comes another light pole.
Dang it! I've only walked the length of one light pole, and I know I'm going to start jogging again as soon as I get to this next one.
Fine. Fine fine fine! I'll do it.
And then I'd run the length of two light poles again. And that's how the second mile+ went. But I wasn't going to jog at all on the return trip, because #1 I was carrying a grocery bag and #2 there was a lot of uphill on the return trip.
But more of that thought process plagued me, and I did end up doing quite a few jogs on the way home.
And I just started to feel a bit of the old new me. I'm sick of feeling like the old old me--that one that got up to 300 pounds in the first place--that one that regained myself back to 300 pounds after I worked so hard to lose it the first time. I don't want to be that old old me. So I do want that new me back.
I am hoping to go for another walk today if the weather cooperates. But my body is pretty sore and tired. And I obviously need new shoes. But if I can try to do these walks regularly, it will do me a lot of good. Maybe I'll get around to getting a cheap DVD player today, too, so my exercise room will be complete.
Baby steps.
I did 1000 crunches for 3 days instead of the seven days I was going for. (I did do 500 on the 4th day, but then nothing).
I feel like I've been treading water, and I just can't get it together enough to start swimming so that I can be making that progress toward the shore.
I was really feeling like I was failing over and over and over again. I would wake up in the morning with that determined "fresh start" attitude, happy for a new day, a new chance. And every day I'd end up screwing up whatever it was I was trying to do. Most days I've been having a big ol' juice for breakfast...and that might have been the only good thing I did for myself that day, food-wise.
So I took a step back, and decided that I can't just go back to where I was. I can't just wake up one day and have it all together and be a weight loss super star. I got myself to the point where I need to "start over." When I juice fasted the first time, I had already been in super control of my diet and exercise for a long, long time. I had no cravings for anything else, and it didn't bother me. But right now I have been out of that mode for enough weeks that it's like asking myself to step on the top rung of a ladder when my feet are barely on the second or third step. I just can't reach it yet.
I decided that I would just do each day better than the last. I have had three days now with no sugar. I hate that it's only 3 days. Not too long ago I could have boasted months and months and months with no sugar. I hate that it reared its ugly head in my life again and took control over me for so long. Sugar is such bad news!
All I wanted to do was get rid of the sugar, to begin with. I knew that that had to be first. And I feel a TON better. For the past two days I have also been working on not eating between meals. I hate that it is so easy for me, now, to be cooking or doing whatever it is I'm doing, and grab this or that to pop in my mouth whenever I go in the pantry or whatever. For a while there meal time would come and I wouldn't be hungry for it. (I kept thinking of that "mom" saying we've all heard, maybe even said, "you'll spoil your dinner.") Yeah. So I would spoil my dinner. But I'd eat it anyway, because it was there!
So for the past few days my thing has been to try and not eat between meals. These days, eating 6 smaller meals a day is a popular diet trick. For me, it doesn't work. I can't continuously eat all day or that's what I'll do. I won't stop. I have to have clearly defined times when I eat, and then I have to turn off the switch and forget about food until the next meal. I've been doing a lot better. I have been able to turn off the switch a lot more and eat a lot less. I'm still eating too much. I haven't tracked on paper what I've eaten, I haven't counted calories or paid too much attention to food groups. I've been trying to avoid anything processed, I've been having a good vegetable juice for breakfast, and I've been staying away from sugar.
For now, it's good. The numbers on the scale have gone down every morning since I cut the sugar. Not by a lot, because I really am still eating too much. But for weeks now, almost every day the numbers were going up, sometimes by a little, sometimes by a lot. The only time those numbers would go down would be when I was trying the juice fast, but every time I quit, right back up they'd go.
On Thursday my husband got to do his PT at home instead of going in to work to exercise with his unit. So he got me up with him and we did day one of Jillian's 30 day shred video. It was easy. Way easy. And only 20 minutes. So I figured I'd go ahead and go for the 30 days. Who couldn't do an easy 20 minutes, right? Well, Friday morning he got me up and I told him no way. My body was sore!
(In my defense, on Thursday I spent most of the day organizing the garage, loading up the car with stuff for Good Will, moving furniture around, lifting, reaching, bending, etc. in order to get my garage all spiffy-ed up as a workout room. Now it's all clean and organized except for the corner that has the stuff I have listed on craigslist. The t.v. is set up, the mats are all layed out, my weights and my step bench and my big ol' exercise ball are out there, even the space heater--because it's still icy cold in the mornings around here, and a lot of mornings we're still waking up with snow. All I need is to get a DVD player, and I'll be ready to go).
So on Friday there was no way I was getting up early. I told Jared I'd do the 20 minutes when Lydia took her nap (yeah right) or after the kids went to bed (yeah right, but a little more likely than the nap time idea).
Then Jared got off work at lunch time, and it just happened to be a really nice day outside, so I decided to go for a walk when Lydia took her nap. I ended up going 4.5 miles! After the first mile, I started getting nagged and assaulted by the jogging idea. The thought process went something like this:
Why shouldn't I just pick a landmark ahead and just jog to it?
Because I haven't exercised for real for a long time, and just walking is enough for now.
But--I could just jog to that light pole up there.
But I don't want to.
Yes I do.
Seriously? This isn't what I signed up for today. I was only going to walk 2 or 3 miles, and I'm already committed to 4.5. Isn't that going the second mile (ha ha) already?
Yeah, so I'm good. No jogging.
But--I could just jog to that light pole up there.
Dang it! I guess I'm going to. Stupid jogging.
But I'm only doing this once. Then I'm walking.
So I'd jog. I started at one light pole, and jogged past the next light pole, and on to the next. Then I'd walk. And then:
Wow, that really wasn't so bad. I'm not really even out of breath. I expected my lungs to be burning. I expected myself to be gasping for air by this point.
Cool. I haven't totally lost it.
But that's it, I'm done. No more jogging.
I know I can't stop now, though. I'll just jog again after I've walked for a while.
But this isn't a jog, it's a walk. So I'm going to walk for a long time before I jog again.
Here comes another light pole.
Dang it! I've only walked the length of one light pole, and I know I'm going to start jogging again as soon as I get to this next one.
Fine. Fine fine fine! I'll do it.
And then I'd run the length of two light poles again. And that's how the second mile+ went. But I wasn't going to jog at all on the return trip, because #1 I was carrying a grocery bag and #2 there was a lot of uphill on the return trip.
But more of that thought process plagued me, and I did end up doing quite a few jogs on the way home.
And I just started to feel a bit of the old new me. I'm sick of feeling like the old old me--that one that got up to 300 pounds in the first place--that one that regained myself back to 300 pounds after I worked so hard to lose it the first time. I don't want to be that old old me. So I do want that new me back.
I am hoping to go for another walk today if the weather cooperates. But my body is pretty sore and tired. And I obviously need new shoes. But if I can try to do these walks regularly, it will do me a lot of good. Maybe I'll get around to getting a cheap DVD player today, too, so my exercise room will be complete.
Baby steps.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
The Less Ugly Truth
So I have completed the second day of my juice fast do-over.
1--I feel tons better.
2--My pants fit great again~I got rid of that muffin top that had crept up the last couple of weeks (ha ha, but not really).
3--I have a lot more energy.
4--I have lost 11 pounds from just 2 days of juicing.
So that's that. Yesterday I wasn't thrilled with the juicing. But I'm a lot less thrilled when I feel like crap and can't zip my pants up, and when the scale shows a 2 in front. Hopefully that 2 will be gone by Saturday.
I'm not spending very much time on pinterest during this fast, because I don't need to be reminded of all the amazing recipes out there. LOL.
1--I feel tons better.
2--My pants fit great again~I got rid of that muffin top that had crept up the last couple of weeks (ha ha, but not really).
3--I have a lot more energy.
4--I have lost 11 pounds from just 2 days of juicing.
So that's that. Yesterday I wasn't thrilled with the juicing. But I'm a lot less thrilled when I feel like crap and can't zip my pants up, and when the scale shows a 2 in front. Hopefully that 2 will be gone by Saturday.
I'm not spending very much time on pinterest during this fast, because I don't need to be reminded of all the amazing recipes out there. LOL.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
The Good, The Bad, But Mostly the Ugly, Ugly Truth
Well I just really haven't had it in me at all to fight the fight. And we all know that if we don't play the game, we forfeit the win.
So we got our house in California all emptied out and clean and spiffy. My husband got home from Hawaii about a half an hour before the movers showed up to pack. That means I was on my own to get everything cleaned and organized, and to get rid of all the stuff we didn't want to take with us. It was exhausting work, I tell you.
That last week there I ended up having a root canal, and an absolutely horrible experience with corporate dentistry. Wow it was terrible. The good news is that I got it done and probably avoided tons of pain that could have come at a really inconvenient time. So I guess that's good. But it did make for a pretty insane and annoying last week in California.
We left on the 10th of February after the kids got out of school, and drove the 2.5 hours to my sister's house to crash for the night. On Saturday we left early in the morning, and drove 7 hours to Grants Pass, where we visited my aunt's family for a while, got a hotel, and then met my in-laws for dinner (they drove an hour and a half just to see us, and we loved seeing them!)
Sunday we left Grants Pass and drove another 7 hours to Puyallup, and here we are. We met the landlords at the house, and then emptied everything from the car into the house. One last night on a crappy air mattress that had to have more air pumped into it in the middle of the night. Ha ha! (Still, it was a lot better than the floor, right?)
Monday morning the movers showed up with all our stuff from California, and I took my three little kids shopping to stock the fridge and pantry, and to get them out of the way so the movers could do their thing. The next couple of nights we spent unpacking, putting things away, breaking down boxes, etc. I was so happy to be parking in the garage after breaking down all those crazy boxes!
A week and a half later, different movers came to drop off the stuff that had been in storage in Hawaii. Boy. So much stuff! Some of it was great to see again, and some of it was just plain annoying, because I had to deal with it, and life had been just fine for the past 15 months without it. Now we are in major need of a yard sale, and I am again parking in the driveway. (Grumble).
Somewhere in all of that, we searched and pursued ads on craigslist in order to get the couches, bookshelves, t.v. stand and bunk beds we needed. And several trips to Walmart, Joanne's, Michaels, Costco, Target, etc. to get all the other stuff you need when you find yourself in a new house with slightly different needs than your last few. Whew. I like shopping, but seriously? It was exhausting and insane, and I got to the point where if I had to get in the car to go buy something one more time I'd probably throw a fit like a baby. LOL. It just got really old, really fast. And then we had to do more driving around to buy my husband a car...luckily the first car he found worked out wonderfully well, so I know it could have been worse.
On February 17, I knew I had to step on the scale, even though my brain could not possibly stand one more thing to think about. I had to do it, even though I'd been eating whatever I wanted, however much I wanted, and had really been not fighting the fight.
That day I weighed 211. To tell you the truth, I was surprised it wasn't more. I was guessing I'd be somewhere in the 220s. Yes, I was, and even so it hadn't been enough to make me care sooner. You just get to this point where you are giving so much of yourself to so many areas of your life that there isn't any more to give. And my battle with weight is the one that I chose not to give anything to. I knew I wasn't throwing the towel in forever, that it was temporary. So at least that was something.
The reason I stepped on the scale, finally, on February 17, is that I had planned to start a juice fast that day. It was my attempt at detoxing and re-booting and all that good stuff. So we went to the commissary, and I had my big ol' list of produce to buy. And then Jared asked if there would be enough for him to do it, too. !! Totally didn't expect him to want anything to do with juicing, as unpleasant as a lot of people think it would be. So I grabbed double of everything on the list, and we went for it.
Later that day, he said he was going to try and go for two days. That was kind of a downer for me, because I just bought all that stuff and thought he was going to be my juicing buddy for the whole 10 days I had hoped to do. But I didn't say anything, I really was just happy he was doing at least 2. Still, that night we sat down and watched Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead together. After it was over, he told me he really wanted to try and make it for 10 days. Yahooo!
So yeah, off we went. He was still off work, so we just juiced our little hearts out. We agreed that if either of us wanted to quit, the other one would be the strong one and keep us both going. I'd help him, he'd help me.
On day 5 we were walking through Walmart, and I just totally lost it. I told him I was sick of juicing and I just wanted a big salad so bad. And he said no, we should keep going, and that I could do it, all the perfect things to say. And I was disappointed because I really was sick of juicing. But he got me over that little wrinkle and we just kept juicing.
The plan was to juice 10 days, and then on day 11 eat fruits and vegetables, and a salad for dinner, to ease back into the normal eating thing.
Then on day 8 we were making dinner for the kids, and Jared slapped his hand down on the counter and looked at me with this pitiful look, and said "How much longer are we doing this??"
The right thing for me to have done would have been to tell him he could do it, it was just a couple more days, you know. All that good stuff. But instead I said, "You don't want to ask me that, because if you start asking me that I'll send you to Subway RIGHT NOW." As soon as I said that he grabbed his keys and said, "What do you want?"
I totally didn't do my part to keep us going! But honestly, ever since day 5 the only reason I didn't throw in the towel is because of him. I wasn't at all into it. At all. I just wanted to eat.
A 7 day juice fast is nothing to laugh at though, and we did pretty good! The problem was not necessarily ending it early. The problem was that we weren't prepared. Instead of having a salad for dinner, like I should have, I ate a Subway sandwich--bread, meat, cheese...you know. Not unhealthy, but not the best way to ease back into normal eating.
The next night we had planned a pajama party/pizza and game night with our new friends across the street. I hadn't worried about it, because I'd be juice fasting. So the pizza wouldn't be a problem for me. But then we stopped, and Jared was so excited to eat the pizza and treats--so I just joined right in. I just really wasn't in the right place, psychologically. I wasn't ready. I should have juiced through Sunday, and stopped it when we weren't right in the middle of cravings and social situations. Big huge mistake.
All the progress I made juice fasting was totally out the window. That last morning that we fasted I weighed in at 188.
But I just started piling the pounds back on...some of it would have come back anyway, I know that. But I just ate and ate, whatever, whenever, however. Why? Maybe stress. Maybe just drowning in a sea of really needing to settle into a routine. My husband was off work for about 3 weeks after we got here. I was gearing up for getting my routine and exercising and grabbing control of my life back.
Then on Sunday, the day before he went back, my sister called me from Hawaii (in between flights) to tell me they'd be able to get a flight to Washington to come see us. Wahoo! I was so excited. Her husband just got back from deployment, so when we were all together in January he wasn't there. I was beyond excited--our first visitors in our new place!! But yeah, I totally didn't see that one coming. So the first day of my new routine turned, instead, into the first day of fun with company. Not to mention it was the first day the Girl Scouts were outside the stores selling their cookies.
It's been 4 years since I'd had Girl Scout cookies. And I was NOT in a good place for just passing them by. So I bought cookies. I bought a lot of cookies. And we at cookies. We ate a lot of cookies. And the interesting thing is, I was actually disappointed. Even the thin mints just didn't do anything for me. I ate them anyway, but next time those cookies come out I won't feel all compelled to buy them. They're just not the amazing little things I had remembered them being. Oh well, right? I'm grateful for that.
Anyway yeah. We ate like total garbage the whole time. Before that I seriously couldn't remember the last time I just ate with reckless abandon. It wasn't part of me at all to do that. But I did it. Grrrrr!
My sister's family left, and Jared's work schedule has been totally crazy. For one reason or another, he would come home early every day. Sometimes at lunch time, sometimes at 8 or 9 in the morning. So everything has been so unpredictable, and settling into a routine has been pretty much impossible.
And here I am today.
Today I weighed 216.8. I wasn't even going to post that. At this point I can't even begin to guess how much of that is "real" gain and how much of that will come off fairly quickly with my act back together. The horrible thing is that my pants are so tight I don't even want to wear them. They hurt. My shirts look terrible. Absolutely terrible. So I wear my workout pants and Jared's t-shirts, and only put on my jeans if I'm going out. (Imagine how much I go out at this point).
Jared went back to work for real yesterday. I got up at 5:00 and did my step aerobics and my strength training videos. I also stared my one week of 1,000 crunches a day. I have to do 1,000 for at least a week, because I really have to pull in all the bulges that have emerged in the past month and a half. I want my clothes to fit me, and I just can't buy a bigger size. I'm really not strong enough to get a bigger size, because then I'll be "comfortable" again and lie to myself that making a batch of cookies isn't that big a deal, etc. So yeah. It's a good thing I got rid of all the "fatter" clothes. I don't have a choice at this point, I have to grab control of myself.
Finally I feel like it's possible, because things are settling down. I'm not expecting company any time soon, and I don't have any social situations coming up. Funny thing though, the band hall where Jared works caught on fire during his week of in-processing (he wasn't there) and the fire department has declared it temporarily condemned. So the band has moved over to the Reserve Band's band hall. But there really isn't any work to do right now, until they get it together. Yesterday he went to work and they all sat around all morning, so when lunch time came they told them to just stay home. And as much as I've needed my normal routine, every time he walks through that door early I am so happy! I love having him here. We'll see how long today goes. He has a different thing going on today, so he may work a full day. But I have no idea what to expect out of the rest of the week. But no matter--I'll be getting up early to exercise, and I'll be working my booty off all morning doing housework, etc.
I have contemplated doing another juice fast, but have resisted doing it because it seems like an "easy answer" to hurry up and get rid of the pounds I've piled on. I don't feel like I deserve an easy answer. But the more I have thought about it, the more I realize how I would benefit from doing it again so soon--
1) I can do it right this time--not quit early, and ease off of it the right way.
2) It will help me to clean the slate again, and get rid of the sugar cravings (reboot, if you will).
3) Getting rid of these pounds before they "solidify" is an added benefit.
I also realized that juice fasting as anything BUT an easy way out. Juice fasting is absolutely not easy. It's tough. So that makes me feel better, too--I'm glad it's there for me, but I wish I had done it right last time so I could wait a little longer before doing it again.
I'm not sure what to expect out of the scale, but I do know that I have gotten myself to the point where I really don't have a choice but to go back to the super strict. One of these days I've got to conquer the "normal" eating thing.
I've got so much more going on inside my head, but this has gone on long enough. I just really want to get back into keeping up with the blog, and fighting the fight.
My revised goal for my birthday (April 16) is to just get back under 200. The previous goal was to get under 175. Yeah, totally screwed that one up! The new goal after my birthday is to get under 170 by the 4th of July. We'll see how it goes, I have no idea. I do know that I want to fit into size 12 and get rid of the 14s forever. Right now I just want to be able to fit into the 14s without sucking in my hugely enormous gut.
So this week: Juice fast for 7 days and 1,000 crunches a day.
So we got our house in California all emptied out and clean and spiffy. My husband got home from Hawaii about a half an hour before the movers showed up to pack. That means I was on my own to get everything cleaned and organized, and to get rid of all the stuff we didn't want to take with us. It was exhausting work, I tell you.
That last week there I ended up having a root canal, and an absolutely horrible experience with corporate dentistry. Wow it was terrible. The good news is that I got it done and probably avoided tons of pain that could have come at a really inconvenient time. So I guess that's good. But it did make for a pretty insane and annoying last week in California.
We left on the 10th of February after the kids got out of school, and drove the 2.5 hours to my sister's house to crash for the night. On Saturday we left early in the morning, and drove 7 hours to Grants Pass, where we visited my aunt's family for a while, got a hotel, and then met my in-laws for dinner (they drove an hour and a half just to see us, and we loved seeing them!)
Sunday we left Grants Pass and drove another 7 hours to Puyallup, and here we are. We met the landlords at the house, and then emptied everything from the car into the house. One last night on a crappy air mattress that had to have more air pumped into it in the middle of the night. Ha ha! (Still, it was a lot better than the floor, right?)
Monday morning the movers showed up with all our stuff from California, and I took my three little kids shopping to stock the fridge and pantry, and to get them out of the way so the movers could do their thing. The next couple of nights we spent unpacking, putting things away, breaking down boxes, etc. I was so happy to be parking in the garage after breaking down all those crazy boxes!
A week and a half later, different movers came to drop off the stuff that had been in storage in Hawaii. Boy. So much stuff! Some of it was great to see again, and some of it was just plain annoying, because I had to deal with it, and life had been just fine for the past 15 months without it. Now we are in major need of a yard sale, and I am again parking in the driveway. (Grumble).
Somewhere in all of that, we searched and pursued ads on craigslist in order to get the couches, bookshelves, t.v. stand and bunk beds we needed. And several trips to Walmart, Joanne's, Michaels, Costco, Target, etc. to get all the other stuff you need when you find yourself in a new house with slightly different needs than your last few. Whew. I like shopping, but seriously? It was exhausting and insane, and I got to the point where if I had to get in the car to go buy something one more time I'd probably throw a fit like a baby. LOL. It just got really old, really fast. And then we had to do more driving around to buy my husband a car...luckily the first car he found worked out wonderfully well, so I know it could have been worse.
On February 17, I knew I had to step on the scale, even though my brain could not possibly stand one more thing to think about. I had to do it, even though I'd been eating whatever I wanted, however much I wanted, and had really been not fighting the fight.
That day I weighed 211. To tell you the truth, I was surprised it wasn't more. I was guessing I'd be somewhere in the 220s. Yes, I was, and even so it hadn't been enough to make me care sooner. You just get to this point where you are giving so much of yourself to so many areas of your life that there isn't any more to give. And my battle with weight is the one that I chose not to give anything to. I knew I wasn't throwing the towel in forever, that it was temporary. So at least that was something.
The reason I stepped on the scale, finally, on February 17, is that I had planned to start a juice fast that day. It was my attempt at detoxing and re-booting and all that good stuff. So we went to the commissary, and I had my big ol' list of produce to buy. And then Jared asked if there would be enough for him to do it, too. !! Totally didn't expect him to want anything to do with juicing, as unpleasant as a lot of people think it would be. So I grabbed double of everything on the list, and we went for it.
Later that day, he said he was going to try and go for two days. That was kind of a downer for me, because I just bought all that stuff and thought he was going to be my juicing buddy for the whole 10 days I had hoped to do. But I didn't say anything, I really was just happy he was doing at least 2. Still, that night we sat down and watched Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead together. After it was over, he told me he really wanted to try and make it for 10 days. Yahooo!
So yeah, off we went. He was still off work, so we just juiced our little hearts out. We agreed that if either of us wanted to quit, the other one would be the strong one and keep us both going. I'd help him, he'd help me.
On day 5 we were walking through Walmart, and I just totally lost it. I told him I was sick of juicing and I just wanted a big salad so bad. And he said no, we should keep going, and that I could do it, all the perfect things to say. And I was disappointed because I really was sick of juicing. But he got me over that little wrinkle and we just kept juicing.
The plan was to juice 10 days, and then on day 11 eat fruits and vegetables, and a salad for dinner, to ease back into the normal eating thing.
Then on day 8 we were making dinner for the kids, and Jared slapped his hand down on the counter and looked at me with this pitiful look, and said "How much longer are we doing this??"
The right thing for me to have done would have been to tell him he could do it, it was just a couple more days, you know. All that good stuff. But instead I said, "You don't want to ask me that, because if you start asking me that I'll send you to Subway RIGHT NOW." As soon as I said that he grabbed his keys and said, "What do you want?"
I totally didn't do my part to keep us going! But honestly, ever since day 5 the only reason I didn't throw in the towel is because of him. I wasn't at all into it. At all. I just wanted to eat.
A 7 day juice fast is nothing to laugh at though, and we did pretty good! The problem was not necessarily ending it early. The problem was that we weren't prepared. Instead of having a salad for dinner, like I should have, I ate a Subway sandwich--bread, meat, cheese...you know. Not unhealthy, but not the best way to ease back into normal eating.
The next night we had planned a pajama party/pizza and game night with our new friends across the street. I hadn't worried about it, because I'd be juice fasting. So the pizza wouldn't be a problem for me. But then we stopped, and Jared was so excited to eat the pizza and treats--so I just joined right in. I just really wasn't in the right place, psychologically. I wasn't ready. I should have juiced through Sunday, and stopped it when we weren't right in the middle of cravings and social situations. Big huge mistake.
All the progress I made juice fasting was totally out the window. That last morning that we fasted I weighed in at 188.
But I just started piling the pounds back on...some of it would have come back anyway, I know that. But I just ate and ate, whatever, whenever, however. Why? Maybe stress. Maybe just drowning in a sea of really needing to settle into a routine. My husband was off work for about 3 weeks after we got here. I was gearing up for getting my routine and exercising and grabbing control of my life back.
Then on Sunday, the day before he went back, my sister called me from Hawaii (in between flights) to tell me they'd be able to get a flight to Washington to come see us. Wahoo! I was so excited. Her husband just got back from deployment, so when we were all together in January he wasn't there. I was beyond excited--our first visitors in our new place!! But yeah, I totally didn't see that one coming. So the first day of my new routine turned, instead, into the first day of fun with company. Not to mention it was the first day the Girl Scouts were outside the stores selling their cookies.
It's been 4 years since I'd had Girl Scout cookies. And I was NOT in a good place for just passing them by. So I bought cookies. I bought a lot of cookies. And we at cookies. We ate a lot of cookies. And the interesting thing is, I was actually disappointed. Even the thin mints just didn't do anything for me. I ate them anyway, but next time those cookies come out I won't feel all compelled to buy them. They're just not the amazing little things I had remembered them being. Oh well, right? I'm grateful for that.
Anyway yeah. We ate like total garbage the whole time. Before that I seriously couldn't remember the last time I just ate with reckless abandon. It wasn't part of me at all to do that. But I did it. Grrrrr!
My sister's family left, and Jared's work schedule has been totally crazy. For one reason or another, he would come home early every day. Sometimes at lunch time, sometimes at 8 or 9 in the morning. So everything has been so unpredictable, and settling into a routine has been pretty much impossible.
And here I am today.
Today I weighed 216.8. I wasn't even going to post that. At this point I can't even begin to guess how much of that is "real" gain and how much of that will come off fairly quickly with my act back together. The horrible thing is that my pants are so tight I don't even want to wear them. They hurt. My shirts look terrible. Absolutely terrible. So I wear my workout pants and Jared's t-shirts, and only put on my jeans if I'm going out. (Imagine how much I go out at this point).
Jared went back to work for real yesterday. I got up at 5:00 and did my step aerobics and my strength training videos. I also stared my one week of 1,000 crunches a day. I have to do 1,000 for at least a week, because I really have to pull in all the bulges that have emerged in the past month and a half. I want my clothes to fit me, and I just can't buy a bigger size. I'm really not strong enough to get a bigger size, because then I'll be "comfortable" again and lie to myself that making a batch of cookies isn't that big a deal, etc. So yeah. It's a good thing I got rid of all the "fatter" clothes. I don't have a choice at this point, I have to grab control of myself.
Finally I feel like it's possible, because things are settling down. I'm not expecting company any time soon, and I don't have any social situations coming up. Funny thing though, the band hall where Jared works caught on fire during his week of in-processing (he wasn't there) and the fire department has declared it temporarily condemned. So the band has moved over to the Reserve Band's band hall. But there really isn't any work to do right now, until they get it together. Yesterday he went to work and they all sat around all morning, so when lunch time came they told them to just stay home. And as much as I've needed my normal routine, every time he walks through that door early I am so happy! I love having him here. We'll see how long today goes. He has a different thing going on today, so he may work a full day. But I have no idea what to expect out of the rest of the week. But no matter--I'll be getting up early to exercise, and I'll be working my booty off all morning doing housework, etc.
I have contemplated doing another juice fast, but have resisted doing it because it seems like an "easy answer" to hurry up and get rid of the pounds I've piled on. I don't feel like I deserve an easy answer. But the more I have thought about it, the more I realize how I would benefit from doing it again so soon--
1) I can do it right this time--not quit early, and ease off of it the right way.
2) It will help me to clean the slate again, and get rid of the sugar cravings (reboot, if you will).
3) Getting rid of these pounds before they "solidify" is an added benefit.
I also realized that juice fasting as anything BUT an easy way out. Juice fasting is absolutely not easy. It's tough. So that makes me feel better, too--I'm glad it's there for me, but I wish I had done it right last time so I could wait a little longer before doing it again.
I'm not sure what to expect out of the scale, but I do know that I have gotten myself to the point where I really don't have a choice but to go back to the super strict. One of these days I've got to conquer the "normal" eating thing.
I've got so much more going on inside my head, but this has gone on long enough. I just really want to get back into keeping up with the blog, and fighting the fight.
My revised goal for my birthday (April 16) is to just get back under 200. The previous goal was to get under 175. Yeah, totally screwed that one up! The new goal after my birthday is to get under 170 by the 4th of July. We'll see how it goes, I have no idea. I do know that I want to fit into size 12 and get rid of the 14s forever. Right now I just want to be able to fit into the 14s without sucking in my hugely enormous gut.
So this week: Juice fast for 7 days and 1,000 crunches a day.
Friday, January 27, 2012
My Engine
I read a post on one of the weight loss blogs I follow. It was a while back, and now I can't remember who posted it and I can't find it. But she talked about how the whole weight loss thing has been the engine on her train of life for so long that nothing else has had the chance to be first and foremost. The engine is the driving force of the train...the first thing you see, the big focus. And she talked about how she needed to let other things be first. After all, life goes on all around us all, and family, career, friends, church--other things in life are important, and sometimes take a back seat to weight loss (it could be other goals for other people).
I think it's really good for weight loss to be the engine. I mean, we've all heard the thing about how you can't truly take care of others until you take care of yourself. It's okay to take care of yourself, and it's okay for others to sacrifice as they support you in your weight loss efforts. (Little sacrifices, like not having cookies and candy and soda around all the time, or supporting your need to be gone at the gym sometimes, or whatever it is). There's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes the absolute only reason weight loss things work for me is that it's the engine. If I let it be one of the cars, or even the caboose, it would not happen. Sometimes weight loss absolutely has to be my number one focus.
But I think the time has come for me to get a new engine, and let weight loss be a car. There are two reasons for this.
First, I realized last night that focusing so much on what I am eating has kind of turned on me a little bit. The past couple of weeks I have been so focused on what I'm eating, that I find myself thinking about food WAY more than I want to. I spend so much time planning, counting calories, journaling, and preparing my food, that food is ALWAYS on my mind. I'm still living life and doing what I do, but thinking about food that much is, well, making me want more food.
I've done really good this week and have been more in control than I've been in a long time. But I have just realized that food has kind of taken over my life! I want to just be a normal person who does what they do, and then when it's time to eat, they eat their food, and then go back to doing what they do. I don't want to be the person who wakes up planning the right thing for breakfast, eating the breakfast, journaling the breakfast, and then immediately goes into planning the mid-morning snack, then after that the lunch, then after that the afternoon snack--you get the idea. I'm sick of food. I find that once I eat the breakfast, I want to immediately eat the mid-morning snack. And after that, I want to eat something else. What I really need to do, is stop thinking about the stinkin' food.
I do not want to just go to the cupboard and grab whatever looks good, I don't want to stop having the healthy options ready and doing what I need and want to do, I just don't want it to be in my face all the time.
Second, right now I don't have the time in my life to let weight loss be the engine. There are too many other things competing for that position. My kids, my husband, and huge to-do list I have to get done in preparation for moving. I am busy all the time working on things to get it all ready. My husband was going to get home a day before the movers were scheduled to come. So we planned to spend that day doing everything we need to do that last day to be ready--packing up the stuff we need to keep with us, like clothes and sleeping bags and pillows, all that. He was going to get the trampoline taken down and packed up that day. Lots of things like that. But yesterday the movers called and did an over-the-phone inventory of our stuff, and decided they wanted a whole day to pack, and another day to load. Because of that, they're now coming a day earlier. Which means that about a half hour after we get home from picking Jared up from the airport, the movers will be showing up. So this has put a lot more work on my shoulders. Which is fine, I don't mind at all. But I just do not have the time or energy for weight loss to be a big focus. I'm tired of feeling guilty because I worked like crazy all day long with no break at all, went to bed super late, and then skipped my early morning workout. Right now I just can't let the workout be my number one thing, there just isn't time.
I have worked out this week, I have eaten well. I plan to continue with it, doing what I can do, but not feeling bad when it just can't happen. Yesterday I just plain didn't have time to chop vegetables and prepare my healthy menu, and I just grabbed a snack size pack of Ritz crackers with cheese. You know, sometimes you just have to grab what is there and not beat yourself up about it. I don't have time for that kind of remorse, either.
The old me would use moving as a good reason for not focusing on my health, and would take it and run with it. I'd be ordering pizza, driving through fast food to get dinner for me and the kids, and would probably de-stress every night with thousands of calories worth of comfort-food sweets. I'm not anywhere near even wanting to do that. But enough is enough. I will still weigh in and put it up on the sidebar there, but at this point, I'm not trying to lose pounds.
Maybe in a month or so I'll be ready to switch engines again--I look forward to that, because nothing feels better than to work super hard and get all the rewards that come along with it. My goal is to be out of the obese category by my birthday. For me, 175 is the dividing line between obese and overweight. My birthday is April 16. So I want to be 174 by then, which is 19 pounds. That seems really reasonable to me, with some breathing room. I hope the only breathing room I need is this time right now while we're moving. After that we'll see what happens. I have no way at all of predicting how soon life will settle down, how soon I'll be able to switch engines. Once my husband comes home next week, he doesn't have to go back to work until March 3. So we'll have a few weeks after we get to the new place, with him home all day. This is great, and I love the idea of having him around all day. But it does mean that we won't be settled into what will become the normal routine that whole time. So yeah, we'll see.
I think it's really good for weight loss to be the engine. I mean, we've all heard the thing about how you can't truly take care of others until you take care of yourself. It's okay to take care of yourself, and it's okay for others to sacrifice as they support you in your weight loss efforts. (Little sacrifices, like not having cookies and candy and soda around all the time, or supporting your need to be gone at the gym sometimes, or whatever it is). There's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes the absolute only reason weight loss things work for me is that it's the engine. If I let it be one of the cars, or even the caboose, it would not happen. Sometimes weight loss absolutely has to be my number one focus.
But I think the time has come for me to get a new engine, and let weight loss be a car. There are two reasons for this.
First, I realized last night that focusing so much on what I am eating has kind of turned on me a little bit. The past couple of weeks I have been so focused on what I'm eating, that I find myself thinking about food WAY more than I want to. I spend so much time planning, counting calories, journaling, and preparing my food, that food is ALWAYS on my mind. I'm still living life and doing what I do, but thinking about food that much is, well, making me want more food.
I've done really good this week and have been more in control than I've been in a long time. But I have just realized that food has kind of taken over my life! I want to just be a normal person who does what they do, and then when it's time to eat, they eat their food, and then go back to doing what they do. I don't want to be the person who wakes up planning the right thing for breakfast, eating the breakfast, journaling the breakfast, and then immediately goes into planning the mid-morning snack, then after that the lunch, then after that the afternoon snack--you get the idea. I'm sick of food. I find that once I eat the breakfast, I want to immediately eat the mid-morning snack. And after that, I want to eat something else. What I really need to do, is stop thinking about the stinkin' food.
I do not want to just go to the cupboard and grab whatever looks good, I don't want to stop having the healthy options ready and doing what I need and want to do, I just don't want it to be in my face all the time.
Second, right now I don't have the time in my life to let weight loss be the engine. There are too many other things competing for that position. My kids, my husband, and huge to-do list I have to get done in preparation for moving. I am busy all the time working on things to get it all ready. My husband was going to get home a day before the movers were scheduled to come. So we planned to spend that day doing everything we need to do that last day to be ready--packing up the stuff we need to keep with us, like clothes and sleeping bags and pillows, all that. He was going to get the trampoline taken down and packed up that day. Lots of things like that. But yesterday the movers called and did an over-the-phone inventory of our stuff, and decided they wanted a whole day to pack, and another day to load. Because of that, they're now coming a day earlier. Which means that about a half hour after we get home from picking Jared up from the airport, the movers will be showing up. So this has put a lot more work on my shoulders. Which is fine, I don't mind at all. But I just do not have the time or energy for weight loss to be a big focus. I'm tired of feeling guilty because I worked like crazy all day long with no break at all, went to bed super late, and then skipped my early morning workout. Right now I just can't let the workout be my number one thing, there just isn't time.
I have worked out this week, I have eaten well. I plan to continue with it, doing what I can do, but not feeling bad when it just can't happen. Yesterday I just plain didn't have time to chop vegetables and prepare my healthy menu, and I just grabbed a snack size pack of Ritz crackers with cheese. You know, sometimes you just have to grab what is there and not beat yourself up about it. I don't have time for that kind of remorse, either.
The old me would use moving as a good reason for not focusing on my health, and would take it and run with it. I'd be ordering pizza, driving through fast food to get dinner for me and the kids, and would probably de-stress every night with thousands of calories worth of comfort-food sweets. I'm not anywhere near even wanting to do that. But enough is enough. I will still weigh in and put it up on the sidebar there, but at this point, I'm not trying to lose pounds.
Maybe in a month or so I'll be ready to switch engines again--I look forward to that, because nothing feels better than to work super hard and get all the rewards that come along with it. My goal is to be out of the obese category by my birthday. For me, 175 is the dividing line between obese and overweight. My birthday is April 16. So I want to be 174 by then, which is 19 pounds. That seems really reasonable to me, with some breathing room. I hope the only breathing room I need is this time right now while we're moving. After that we'll see what happens. I have no way at all of predicting how soon life will settle down, how soon I'll be able to switch engines. Once my husband comes home next week, he doesn't have to go back to work until March 3. So we'll have a few weeks after we get to the new place, with him home all day. This is great, and I love the idea of having him around all day. But it does mean that we won't be settled into what will become the normal routine that whole time. So yeah, we'll see.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Beneath the Bandaid
I mentioned before how Bob Harper said you can't heal something just by slapping a bandaid on top of it. Underneath the bandaid there is something wrong--a splinter, a piece of glass, germs, whatever it is, it has to be dealt with.
And he's right.
I also mentioned that I've been hiding under my bandaid forever, without getting to the root of the issue.
I can be a weight loss super star. I have lost over 100 pounds (twice). I have done a juice fast for 18 days. The juice fast isn't really about weight loss, but it is about having absolute, 100% control. Rigid, strict control. No problem.
I have also been a major over eater and food abuser. I hate to put it like that, but unfortunately, that's the way it is. If you repeatedly overeat, if you binge eat, you are a food abuser.
I've been on both ends of the extreme, and have yet to master the happy medium. Either extreme is harmful. Maybe the super good one is only harmful because it inevitably leads to the super bad one. At least, it does for me.
So I guess I have finally identified what's under the bandaid. That's it. No traumatic event, no extreme lack of self esteem, no self-loathing. I don't use food to compensate for anything. My life really isn't missing anything. I mean, we all have things we'd dream about having. Sure I wouldn't mind having a bigger paycheck or a fancier house, blah blah blah. But for all intents and purposes, I have everything in my life that I want. I have a great family, financial stability, friends. I have a master's degree, I have learned a lot of awesome skills for every day life--I mean, I'm a happy person. I love life. I have a lot of blessings, and I am thankful for them. I truly have nothing to complain about.
So what's under the bandaid? Under the bandaid is the fact that I am addicted to food. That's it.
I'm supposed to be in the middle of this whole perfect three weeks thing. I'm supposed to be rocking the whole Biggest Loser 30 Day Jumpstart thing. This week I have exercised. I have counted calories in. I have counted calories out. I have journaled. I have kept up on weight loss blogs. I have read about weight management. I have watched Biggest Loser while doing my household chores.
And yet, I have lost, over and over again. Not pounds, unfortunately. I have lost the battle with food every day this week. Monday it was pretzels. I let myself have a few that would have fit into my plan. But I just kept eating them. It was afternoon. I was to the point where I was ravenous. Not physically. I wasn't actually hungry at all!! It was just plain in my mind. I just wanted to eat, and I could not satisfy my desire for food and just make myself stop. I could not just eat a few pretzels and walk away, I just kept eating and eating them.
So the next day I was going to be more active and cut my calories down to help make up for it. And I did. I got up and I did my step aerobics, and I did some Just Dance on the wii with the kids. And I was totally in my game. And then the afternoon came, and I wanted to EAT. I wasn't hungry. I just wanted to eat. So I decided I'd have the half cup of fat free frozen yogurt I had planned into my day--I was going to have it after the kids went to bed, but I just plain wanted to eat. I tried doing it the right way, I had something that was in the plan for the day. But then after that half cup, I had another half cup. And another. I probably ate three full cups of frozen yogurt. That's 600 calories instead of 100. Wow, really??
So the next day I was going to exercise more, and try to cut my calories by 300 for two days, to help make up for all that frozen yogurt.
Then was Wednesday. Wednesday I rocked. I did Jillian's workout in the morning, and I took the kids to the walking trail where we walked for about an hour. It wasn't super speed or anything, but it was decent. But then afternoon came. I wanted to eat. I wasn't hungry physically, but psychologically I was ravenous! So I took out the breakfast cookies from the freezer and ate a whole bunch of them. No sugar, no bad ingredients at all, but the calories still added up! I felt like junk--physically. Then I decided to just go get Subway for dinner. Which is a healthy choice, unless you just ate a bunch of breakfast cookies chock full of carbs. But I wanted it, so I got it. And then at Young Women's that night, the activity was decorating cupcakes. And I ate one. Then I came home and ate the leftover licorice I brought home.
WHY???? What the heck was the payoff for all that? Tons of regret. Tons and tons of regret. Not guilt, but absolute regret. It wasn't worth it. If I had planned on cheating, I could have at least had things that were awesome. But breakfast cookies and licorice? That's just crap.
But yes, I did pick up on the pattern that I get psychologically ravenous in the afternoons. I have finally identified that as a major trigger time for me, which means that I can really watch it in the afternoons. Afternoon is my diet enemy, and now that I know it, I can put up my defenses.
Putting a bandaid on something looks nice. You get to see a nice, sterile strip instead of a pussy, oozing gash. (Okay, sorry). Me wearing a size 14 pants right now looks a lot nicer than the 24s I was wearing before. But inside, underneath the bandaid, I still seem to have the size 24 psychology. This is what destroyed me last time. I lost all that weight, and then in nothing flat I had put it all back on. I will not do that again!
The truth is, taking out a splinter or a piece of glass hurts. Nobody likes going at a wound with a pair of tweezers and digging through all the mess. It's ugly and it's painful. I like to say that now that I've lost over 100 pounds and done some awesome things, that I have healed what's wrong. That I've mastered the art of weight management. I have not. But how thankful I am that, since there's a nasty splinter under that bandaid, I finally have a pair of tweezers. I've finally figured out that I have to dig through and pull out what's really wrong. I don't expect it to be pleasant. I expect to get in there and have a really tough time. But in the end, I will find that splinter and I will have what it takes to pull it out. And then maybe the bandaid will be able to do its job.
I hate what I've done this week. I mean, I've done some great things. But I hate all the lost time for the horrible things I did.
You know what, though? I have to see this as progress. Messing up like that, while it has led to sadness and regret, has led me to be able to identify things that will help me from now on. It's a stumbling block that I can now use to stand on to lift me higher.
You know what else? I have still been exercising. That right there is a big sign that I'm not a lost cause.
You know what else? I did not get soda at Subway. I did not eat 5 cupcakes. I did not go for McDonalds or Burger King--at least it was Subway. So I stumbled. I did not fall. There is still a lot of progress, overall, things are not as bad as they could be. In the past when I have thrown in the towel for the day, I've done a lot more damage than I've done this week. I can feel that deep down, I am a different person. I do not go as far as I used to. I don't have any desire to go that far. I don't like how far I'm still willing to go, but I've got my tweezers. I'm working on it. I want real changes. I do have some real changes. I have confidence that I will continue to make real changes, and eventually get to that place where I do not abuse food ever. Not even once in a while. I used to do it all the time. Now at least it's rare, and not as bad. Some day I will have no desire at all whatsoever to turn to food inapporpriately.
**As a side note, I do not believe that allowing a treat sometimes is a bad thing. Not at all. As long as it's a conscious decision and as long as it's not overdone. As long as it's not something you will regret once it's gone. If handled correctly, there will be no regret.
So I'm still fighting. And I'll keep you posted.
And I am seriously considering starting up with the Addiction Recovery group when I get to Washington. I always swore I wouldn't. But now I think I'm ready to face it.
And he's right.
I also mentioned that I've been hiding under my bandaid forever, without getting to the root of the issue.
I can be a weight loss super star. I have lost over 100 pounds (twice). I have done a juice fast for 18 days. The juice fast isn't really about weight loss, but it is about having absolute, 100% control. Rigid, strict control. No problem.
I have also been a major over eater and food abuser. I hate to put it like that, but unfortunately, that's the way it is. If you repeatedly overeat, if you binge eat, you are a food abuser.
I've been on both ends of the extreme, and have yet to master the happy medium. Either extreme is harmful. Maybe the super good one is only harmful because it inevitably leads to the super bad one. At least, it does for me.
So I guess I have finally identified what's under the bandaid. That's it. No traumatic event, no extreme lack of self esteem, no self-loathing. I don't use food to compensate for anything. My life really isn't missing anything. I mean, we all have things we'd dream about having. Sure I wouldn't mind having a bigger paycheck or a fancier house, blah blah blah. But for all intents and purposes, I have everything in my life that I want. I have a great family, financial stability, friends. I have a master's degree, I have learned a lot of awesome skills for every day life--I mean, I'm a happy person. I love life. I have a lot of blessings, and I am thankful for them. I truly have nothing to complain about.
So what's under the bandaid? Under the bandaid is the fact that I am addicted to food. That's it.
I'm supposed to be in the middle of this whole perfect three weeks thing. I'm supposed to be rocking the whole Biggest Loser 30 Day Jumpstart thing. This week I have exercised. I have counted calories in. I have counted calories out. I have journaled. I have kept up on weight loss blogs. I have read about weight management. I have watched Biggest Loser while doing my household chores.
And yet, I have lost, over and over again. Not pounds, unfortunately. I have lost the battle with food every day this week. Monday it was pretzels. I let myself have a few that would have fit into my plan. But I just kept eating them. It was afternoon. I was to the point where I was ravenous. Not physically. I wasn't actually hungry at all!! It was just plain in my mind. I just wanted to eat, and I could not satisfy my desire for food and just make myself stop. I could not just eat a few pretzels and walk away, I just kept eating and eating them.
So the next day I was going to be more active and cut my calories down to help make up for it. And I did. I got up and I did my step aerobics, and I did some Just Dance on the wii with the kids. And I was totally in my game. And then the afternoon came, and I wanted to EAT. I wasn't hungry. I just wanted to eat. So I decided I'd have the half cup of fat free frozen yogurt I had planned into my day--I was going to have it after the kids went to bed, but I just plain wanted to eat. I tried doing it the right way, I had something that was in the plan for the day. But then after that half cup, I had another half cup. And another. I probably ate three full cups of frozen yogurt. That's 600 calories instead of 100. Wow, really??
So the next day I was going to exercise more, and try to cut my calories by 300 for two days, to help make up for all that frozen yogurt.
Then was Wednesday. Wednesday I rocked. I did Jillian's workout in the morning, and I took the kids to the walking trail where we walked for about an hour. It wasn't super speed or anything, but it was decent. But then afternoon came. I wanted to eat. I wasn't hungry physically, but psychologically I was ravenous! So I took out the breakfast cookies from the freezer and ate a whole bunch of them. No sugar, no bad ingredients at all, but the calories still added up! I felt like junk--physically. Then I decided to just go get Subway for dinner. Which is a healthy choice, unless you just ate a bunch of breakfast cookies chock full of carbs. But I wanted it, so I got it. And then at Young Women's that night, the activity was decorating cupcakes. And I ate one. Then I came home and ate the leftover licorice I brought home.
WHY???? What the heck was the payoff for all that? Tons of regret. Tons and tons of regret. Not guilt, but absolute regret. It wasn't worth it. If I had planned on cheating, I could have at least had things that were awesome. But breakfast cookies and licorice? That's just crap.
But yes, I did pick up on the pattern that I get psychologically ravenous in the afternoons. I have finally identified that as a major trigger time for me, which means that I can really watch it in the afternoons. Afternoon is my diet enemy, and now that I know it, I can put up my defenses.
Putting a bandaid on something looks nice. You get to see a nice, sterile strip instead of a pussy, oozing gash. (Okay, sorry). Me wearing a size 14 pants right now looks a lot nicer than the 24s I was wearing before. But inside, underneath the bandaid, I still seem to have the size 24 psychology. This is what destroyed me last time. I lost all that weight, and then in nothing flat I had put it all back on. I will not do that again!
The truth is, taking out a splinter or a piece of glass hurts. Nobody likes going at a wound with a pair of tweezers and digging through all the mess. It's ugly and it's painful. I like to say that now that I've lost over 100 pounds and done some awesome things, that I have healed what's wrong. That I've mastered the art of weight management. I have not. But how thankful I am that, since there's a nasty splinter under that bandaid, I finally have a pair of tweezers. I've finally figured out that I have to dig through and pull out what's really wrong. I don't expect it to be pleasant. I expect to get in there and have a really tough time. But in the end, I will find that splinter and I will have what it takes to pull it out. And then maybe the bandaid will be able to do its job.
I hate what I've done this week. I mean, I've done some great things. But I hate all the lost time for the horrible things I did.
You know what, though? I have to see this as progress. Messing up like that, while it has led to sadness and regret, has led me to be able to identify things that will help me from now on. It's a stumbling block that I can now use to stand on to lift me higher.
You know what else? I have still been exercising. That right there is a big sign that I'm not a lost cause.
You know what else? I did not get soda at Subway. I did not eat 5 cupcakes. I did not go for McDonalds or Burger King--at least it was Subway. So I stumbled. I did not fall. There is still a lot of progress, overall, things are not as bad as they could be. In the past when I have thrown in the towel for the day, I've done a lot more damage than I've done this week. I can feel that deep down, I am a different person. I do not go as far as I used to. I don't have any desire to go that far. I don't like how far I'm still willing to go, but I've got my tweezers. I'm working on it. I want real changes. I do have some real changes. I have confidence that I will continue to make real changes, and eventually get to that place where I do not abuse food ever. Not even once in a while. I used to do it all the time. Now at least it's rare, and not as bad. Some day I will have no desire at all whatsoever to turn to food inapporpriately.
**As a side note, I do not believe that allowing a treat sometimes is a bad thing. Not at all. As long as it's a conscious decision and as long as it's not overdone. As long as it's not something you will regret once it's gone. If handled correctly, there will be no regret.
So I'm still fighting. And I'll keep you posted.
And I am seriously considering starting up with the Addiction Recovery group when I get to Washington. I always swore I wouldn't. But now I think I'm ready to face it.
Fat and Happy
Fat and happy. I've heard the term before. Dr. Phil says if you haven't done something about your weight, there's some kind of pay off you're getting that you want more than getting the pounds off and everything that goes along with that. I can't remember the exact way he said it, it's been years since I read his book. But it has stuck with me. It's true. If you choose to eat that candy bar, it's because you're getting something when you eat it. Happiness? Satisfaction? Stress relief? I don't know, whatever.
People say "fat and happy" like it's something great. I first started hearing that term when we entered the world of the military. Guys from one branch of the military would say that other branches let their soldiers get fat and happy--less physical stuff, more lenient weight requirements, etc. I'm sure it was all (mostly?) just talk, all the branch rivalry talk that military people like to do.
But I've heard the term in lots of other places and from lots of other people, too.
Fat and happy.
Fat and happy.
Happy why? Because you get to eat what you want and not have to do all the work it takes to manage a more healthy weight? Because you get to sleep in an hour later than you would be able to if you got up to exercise? Because fast food is quick and easy and tastes good, and if you adopt the "fat and happy" lifestyle you get to have it without feeling "guilty?" Happy because you like the holidays to be about the food? Because getting out of breath doing every day things is fun? Because there's satisfaction in loosening your belt after an artery hardening meal? Because you like that clothes shopping is much more of a chore you put off than a something fun you look forward to?
I get it. I do. Believe me. If anyone knows about eating, I do. And if anyone knows about counting every calorie, waking up super early to exercise, using a food scale, cutting certain "good and yummy" things out of my life, I do.
But I also know that "fat and happy" just doesn't work. Anybody who thinks they're fat and happy--I think it's really safe to say that they are wrong! They probably really think they are, though. I respect each person's right to be who they are, to choose what they want, and to be in charge of their own health. I respect each person's right to be in whatever mindset they're in. If it's a fit, active, healthy thing, then great. If it's a sit around all day, do nothing, and eat like a pig, then great. And if it's somewhere in the middle, that's great. It's okay!
But I'm not buying the fat and happy thing.
I've had a taste of the happiness that comes with being active and eating healthy. I'm still a long way from my goal weight, and life is getting really hard for me right now. I have a lot of great ideas, I know exactly what I need to do, and I just don't have it in me to win right now! (More on that later). So I can't claim to know how great it would feel for me to be at my correct weight, or how it would feel to buy amazing clothes and have fun putting complete outfits together that will make me just want to go out into the world just so I can go out wearing those clothes. I can't claim to know how great it would feel for me to do something like run a marathon. Not that it would feel like a party for the whole 26.2 miles, but for the feeling I'd get going through that finish line knowing that I did something like that. You just can't put a price on that kind of thing, and I have no idea how that would feel.
But I can claim, now, to know how it feels to achieve physical things in life that I never thought I could. Years ago I participated in a "lazy-man's triathlon" through the YMCA. We had to do the same things as a regular triathlon, but not all at once. We had to keep a log of our biking, swimming, and running. And a one hour step aerobics class (or other cardio class) counted as 2 miles. Stuff like that. You could run on the track, the treadmill, or the elliptical. Whatever. If you finished it all in 3 months, you got bronze. Two months was silver. One month was gold. Two weeks was Ironman. I decided to just go for it and work for the Ironman. And I did it! I actually finished in 10 days. Within that ten days, there were many 4 hour workouts. It was hard. But you know what, I did it. Yes, it was lazymans. I'm sure it wasn't anywhere close to what a real triathlon is like. But for the first time in my life, I achieved something amazing that was physical.
But for some reason, climbinb Koko Head in Hawaii a couple of months ago was not only a great feeling, it was life altering. It was a true defining moment. Standing on the top of that mountain, looking down on Hawaii Kai, knowing that nothing but my own work got me there--there's not a feeling like that in all the world! Nothing, nothing, nothing can compare to that. That's a kind of happy you can never in a million years get from the "fat and happy" mentality. Ever.
And guess what? Conquering Koko Head is a happiness that I will have for the rest of my life. Eating a candybar is a happiness that only lasts until it's gone. Then all you're left with is calories. Fat. Sugar. Wreaking havoc in your body. You get nothing lasting from a candybar--nothing that will make you happy, anyway.
And I know that the more I fight the fat, and the "fat and happy" lifestyle, the more experiences like that I'll be able to do.
It's always been a dream of mine to travel and see the world. (Ha, and I have yet to leave the United States). But I have recently added to that dream the desire to not only see, but to do. I don't think I'll ever want to climb Mount Everest. But something like that bridge in Sydney that you can climb to the top of--lots and lots of stairs--I would love to do that! The old me would love to go to Sydney, to see all that. And maybe even see amazing views, if there's an elevator or a shuttle or something. But to get to the top of something like that by my own steam--that would be the best! A friend of mine went to Mexico/South America and got to see a lot of ruins and other church history things, some of which she had to repel down into because there was no other way to go. She's a senior citizen, and she did it. Why can't I?
All this coming from me, who has never, ever ever, been "outdoorsy" or "athletic"--I'm not someone who likes to do stuff like that in my free time. But that kind of stuff has come to me as I become more able to do it. 6 months ago I would have said I could be happy my whole life if I never ran a mile. But then when you do it, and you learn what it feels like to get better and better and to achieve things that are challenging, you get a kind of happiness you never imagined existed.
Fat and happy just absolutely doesn't cut it. And I firmly believe that anybody who believes that they are fat and happy, though they believe they really are, has no clue what kind of happiness they're missing out on.
People say "fat and happy" like it's something great. I first started hearing that term when we entered the world of the military. Guys from one branch of the military would say that other branches let their soldiers get fat and happy--less physical stuff, more lenient weight requirements, etc. I'm sure it was all (mostly?) just talk, all the branch rivalry talk that military people like to do.
But I've heard the term in lots of other places and from lots of other people, too.
Fat and happy.
Fat and happy.
Happy why? Because you get to eat what you want and not have to do all the work it takes to manage a more healthy weight? Because you get to sleep in an hour later than you would be able to if you got up to exercise? Because fast food is quick and easy and tastes good, and if you adopt the "fat and happy" lifestyle you get to have it without feeling "guilty?" Happy because you like the holidays to be about the food? Because getting out of breath doing every day things is fun? Because there's satisfaction in loosening your belt after an artery hardening meal? Because you like that clothes shopping is much more of a chore you put off than a something fun you look forward to?
I get it. I do. Believe me. If anyone knows about eating, I do. And if anyone knows about counting every calorie, waking up super early to exercise, using a food scale, cutting certain "good and yummy" things out of my life, I do.
But I also know that "fat and happy" just doesn't work. Anybody who thinks they're fat and happy--I think it's really safe to say that they are wrong! They probably really think they are, though. I respect each person's right to be who they are, to choose what they want, and to be in charge of their own health. I respect each person's right to be in whatever mindset they're in. If it's a fit, active, healthy thing, then great. If it's a sit around all day, do nothing, and eat like a pig, then great. And if it's somewhere in the middle, that's great. It's okay!
But I'm not buying the fat and happy thing.
I've had a taste of the happiness that comes with being active and eating healthy. I'm still a long way from my goal weight, and life is getting really hard for me right now. I have a lot of great ideas, I know exactly what I need to do, and I just don't have it in me to win right now! (More on that later). So I can't claim to know how great it would feel for me to be at my correct weight, or how it would feel to buy amazing clothes and have fun putting complete outfits together that will make me just want to go out into the world just so I can go out wearing those clothes. I can't claim to know how great it would feel for me to do something like run a marathon. Not that it would feel like a party for the whole 26.2 miles, but for the feeling I'd get going through that finish line knowing that I did something like that. You just can't put a price on that kind of thing, and I have no idea how that would feel.
But I can claim, now, to know how it feels to achieve physical things in life that I never thought I could. Years ago I participated in a "lazy-man's triathlon" through the YMCA. We had to do the same things as a regular triathlon, but not all at once. We had to keep a log of our biking, swimming, and running. And a one hour step aerobics class (or other cardio class) counted as 2 miles. Stuff like that. You could run on the track, the treadmill, or the elliptical. Whatever. If you finished it all in 3 months, you got bronze. Two months was silver. One month was gold. Two weeks was Ironman. I decided to just go for it and work for the Ironman. And I did it! I actually finished in 10 days. Within that ten days, there were many 4 hour workouts. It was hard. But you know what, I did it. Yes, it was lazymans. I'm sure it wasn't anywhere close to what a real triathlon is like. But for the first time in my life, I achieved something amazing that was physical.
But for some reason, climbinb Koko Head in Hawaii a couple of months ago was not only a great feeling, it was life altering. It was a true defining moment. Standing on the top of that mountain, looking down on Hawaii Kai, knowing that nothing but my own work got me there--there's not a feeling like that in all the world! Nothing, nothing, nothing can compare to that. That's a kind of happy you can never in a million years get from the "fat and happy" mentality. Ever.
And guess what? Conquering Koko Head is a happiness that I will have for the rest of my life. Eating a candybar is a happiness that only lasts until it's gone. Then all you're left with is calories. Fat. Sugar. Wreaking havoc in your body. You get nothing lasting from a candybar--nothing that will make you happy, anyway.
And I know that the more I fight the fat, and the "fat and happy" lifestyle, the more experiences like that I'll be able to do.
It's always been a dream of mine to travel and see the world. (Ha, and I have yet to leave the United States). But I have recently added to that dream the desire to not only see, but to do. I don't think I'll ever want to climb Mount Everest. But something like that bridge in Sydney that you can climb to the top of--lots and lots of stairs--I would love to do that! The old me would love to go to Sydney, to see all that. And maybe even see amazing views, if there's an elevator or a shuttle or something. But to get to the top of something like that by my own steam--that would be the best! A friend of mine went to Mexico/South America and got to see a lot of ruins and other church history things, some of which she had to repel down into because there was no other way to go. She's a senior citizen, and she did it. Why can't I?
All this coming from me, who has never, ever ever, been "outdoorsy" or "athletic"--I'm not someone who likes to do stuff like that in my free time. But that kind of stuff has come to me as I become more able to do it. 6 months ago I would have said I could be happy my whole life if I never ran a mile. But then when you do it, and you learn what it feels like to get better and better and to achieve things that are challenging, you get a kind of happiness you never imagined existed.
Fat and happy just absolutely doesn't cut it. And I firmly believe that anybody who believes that they are fat and happy, though they believe they really are, has no clue what kind of happiness they're missing out on.
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