Thursday, October 8, 2009

I Choose the Blue Pill

I hate to take another hiatus, but the internet I had in my new place has failed, choked, and died a miserable death.

I am writing this to you from my mother's connection in hopes of apologizing for being gone for so long. I cannot guarantee when I will have a connection again, but no longer than a few more weeks. I sincerely apologize for the hiatus, the lack of technological connection is killing me. But you can be assured that I will indeed be back.

You can't get rid of me that easily.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Friends Don't Let Friends Get Stuck in Ruts

Sometimes we as people just need a fresh start. We need change to help us live. That's why girls get new haircuts, new wardrobes, and why guys buy new cars, new technological "toys" etc. It's not necessarily that it's cool or that it makes us look good -- though that certainly is a factor.

It's the fact that though we're creatures of habit and routine, sometimes we end up stuck in a rut. And when this happens... man, do we feel it. We become sluggish, lethargic. We get fed up with our lives and start to view them as boring or humdrum. We can't find satisfaction in the things we used to. Sometimes, we even let all of this lead us to depression.

Little wonder that this is the leading cause of the mid-life crisis.

So I'm going to take a minute and shove a little personal philosophy at you. See, I happen to think that change is a healthy thing (with some notable exceptions.) In order to take proper care of ourselves, we must seek change as people.

This does not mean that you should shave your head and flash your twins to a random stranger at Mardi Gras.

My apologies to all of you who are fighting down disappointment.

It means that we must challenge ourselves. Learning a new skill, reading something enlightening (or even just a genre you haven't tried before), and -- you guessed it -- eating healthy and exercising -- are a few ways that we can challenge ourselves in healthy ways.

You knew I'd bring it back around.

I've been talking a lot to people lately -- people who want to shed some pounds, but say that they're stuck in a rut. They'll try something when things aren't so hard. Well, let me put this to you. Logically, how can you get out of a monotonous rut but to make a positive change? Aaaaand isn't losing weight a great positive change?

So logically, shedding pounds is not something you do after you get out of the rut, but something that will pull you out.

Deep, right?

Sometimes, like with my recent situation, change slaps you in the head and says "get off your ass and come with me." Then you're tossed head over heels into a new life, a new job, a new situation. If you're really lucky, you'll be tossed in without any sort of anchor to your old life. Maybe even in another state, another coast or another country. Like, y'know... Australia.

This happens to me a lot, can you tell?

But other times, change is being lazy. You have to get up all by yourself, slap change over the head and say "get off your ass and come with me." Which is an awesome role reversal, if you really stop to think about it. And it takes infinitely more courage than riding the wave like I've been doing.

Even better, when you start the party yourself and decide to lose weight, you can tack on all sorts of other things. Like learning a new skill (for me -- cooking and T'ai chi.) Read Shakespeare if the mood takes you (just bear in mind that Shakespeare was rather dirty at times and don't be shocked, because I warned you.) Go see a musical or a basketball game. Buy a CD of foreign music. Make dinner for friends. Take a weekend trip to a city you've never been to (even if it's that weird little ghost town thirty miles away that you have to look up on a map just so you'll remember the name. I live in one of those towns now.)

I know, I know. "But Jami, isn't that just superficial? Aren't we just running away from our real problems?" Well, no. Not if you choose not to. It's not that you're filling the world with meaningless little things to fill the real void that's there. You're learning to appreciate the smallest things that God's given. Because He gives us a lot, we just don't see it because we're too damned busy being stuck in that stupid rut.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Going Through "The Change": Not Just About Puberty

First of all, I have internet! Dodgy internet, it's true, but I should be able to get back on a schedule of some sort. Cross your fingers.

*****

Once you've lost pounds that can be measured with double digits, you begin to feel better. Your pants are fitting more loosely, you have more energy, modified eating habits. You may even see some physical slendering in your face, or count one less chin. It's a wonderful feeling.

Unfortunately, with this comes the fact that your body must modify to this lifestyle change. Now, I choose to see this as a good thing, but it's also a little frightening. You begin to feel sick after meals you would have been fine eating just a month or so back. You eat more often and feel sick -- again -- when you don't. Your chemical composition is beginning to change. Now, it may be more or less extreme depending on the person, but this is the point where we all realize one thing: the cord has been cut.

There's no going back now.

Suddenly you begin to long for the old days when you could eat half a tub of ice cream without breaking a sweat (though one seldom sweats when eating frozen goods) and you feel an odd sense of nostalgia that says "I guess this is it; I never will be that person again." Aaaand... if we're thinking logically, the natural response is "hell yeah!"

Unfortunately, even when the change is positive, it's natural to be terrified of going out of our comfort zone. And if food is a comfort... suddenly this positive life change feels more like putting your baby blanket through the shredder.

This, my friends, is not the easy part of losing weight. (Actually, I really can't think of an easy part, but if you come up with something, let me know.) "The Change" is the part where most of us go "holy crap! I've let go of the life-preserver!" So we cling back on to what's comfortable rather than swimming in the big, bad ocean where we could get swallowed up in the evils of experience and new adventures.

This is the time where we need extra motivation to let go and embrace the change with enthusiasm instead of shying away in fear.

So let go. And in the words of Dory in Finding Nemo: "just keep swimming, swimming, just keep swimming..."

...I couldn't help myself.

(12 lbs and counting.)

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Announcements: A Terrible Death to Die

I had to use that title for those of you who remember that call from summer camp/outdoor school.

I know I have not been terribly good about the MWF schedule this week, but I have been in the course of moving. Tomorrow, the boxes go in the car and I make the final drive to my destination -- where I will be camped out in a motel or an RV (no one's told me which) for the next two or three weeks, until the place I'll be living is ready for my roommate and me. So I will most likely have very intermittent internet access until this happens.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "Jami, that's why God invented Wi-fi." Well, that's true... but while you can count on things like that at a Marriott, this is a small, privately-owned establishment in a town with a population around 120. I just can't count on it being available without a stable home base. So I will try to get a post in a week, I can't guarantee, well... anything.

In the meantime, please keep talking. If you have anything you want to contribute, please do so! It'll give everyone something to read. Just comment at the end of this post. Have conversations. I'll check it out and jump in when I can, until I stop attempting to impersonate the dark ages (or at least the 1960s.)

On the plus side, I am approaching my first ten pounds lost. And with the fact that this community doesn't have a grocery store (or even a gas station or convenience store)... this could possibly be good for that whole "eating too much" habit of mine. (Don't worry, this does not mean I will be fasting for the next month. I promise.) So until we meet again: good luck, happy exercising, and take care.

...and now I want to say "this is Jami for KSVQ, signing off." When did I turn into a radio host?

Monday, September 7, 2009

Tips For Support Systems (Don't Shoot the Messenger)

It's almost as hard to support someone who's losing weight as it is to take the plunge yourself. You love them, and want the best for them. Maybe you have weight issues yourself and aren't ready to face them. Or maybe you're naturally rail-thin and energetic. Most likely... you're somewhere in between. And so you live through the moodiness, the hard work, you try to encourage them when they're up and support them when they're down. You are one of the things that makes their progress possible.

But let's face it. You're not them. Even if you're losing weight yourself, you're not in the same place as they are. Coming from a new perspective can be a very positive thing. However, it can also mean that you don't end up being so helpful as you'd like to be. So with love and affection in my heart, I have a few pointers for those who are trying to act as a support system for someone on the path to weight loss.

1) Know them. Be cognizant of their needs and of their personality. You won't always respond in the way they need, but realizing that "Sally doesn't respond well to criticism" or "Daren is a perfectionist" will help you handle things in a more positive and productive fashion.

2) On the same vein... be aware that they may not handle things like you would. Not only are their bodies different, their minds are different. They may be discouraged by something that would encourage you. They may not want to use the same exercise methods that you enjoy. Their pounds may not melt off by sticking to certain kinds of foods because their metabolism functions differently. And that's okay.

3) Remember that it isn't personal. You are incredible for helping them through one of the hardest things they've ever done. But when it comes to their weight loss, it's not about you. It's about their bodies. Their minds. And since they are going through a gigantic change... be aware that if they rail against you, they'll come back and apologize. But try to let it go and love them anyway.

4) When they've had a bad day... remember that no one wants negative reinforcement. If they've just gained a pound back, it is always better to say "I'm sorry... I know you can get back on track. Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need to talk about it?" Or something like that. Be positive. Do not take the opportunity to tell them what you see they've been doing wrong or to correct their perspective on X nutritional issue. There's a time and a place for that, but it's not now. Whether you realize it or not, you're kicking them when they're down. Even if you think you're being encouraging. You're not.

5) Never talk negatively about their body, even if it's only the body that used to be there. If they've lost fifty pounds, it is not okay to say "I'm so glad you've lost all that weight. I always hated watching you eat." (Forgive the extreme example, it came to the top of my head.) Regardless, it's a quick way to get yourself slapped. It's sort of like badmouthing someone's ex. Even if they never get back together, it's a dangerous business to insult something that used to be a part of you.

6) Tough love is one thing. Accountability is fine. But know their breaking point. Chances are, they already know what the problem is if something is going wrong. There's no need to reiterate that you know their problem too.

7) Let them talk. Sometimes, it's not about the advice you can give. I know you want to help, but sometimes they want to vent. Know the difference.


Now, everyone involves themselves in different ways. Sometimes it's a family member walking with you or helping you out. Sometimes it's a life coach. A roommate. That disgustingly thin friend that eats more and exercises less than anyone you know -- you know, the one whose metabolism you want to bottle and sell (with a free lifetime supply to yourself.) You might be the person with them through it all, or just the person they call to cry to. And those are all great. Thank you for what you do.

But try to remember that the wrong type of help is no help at all. We all need someone to go to when we're making hard decisions or rough changes. But it's better to go it alone than to have people who aren't as supportive as they think they are -- especially when they don't understand why.

Friday, September 4, 2009

The Devil Made Me Eat It

Eating out is the devil.

Seriously. Think about it.

Every time I go out, I'm confronted with a tantalizing menu. Mouthwatering burgers. Sizzling steaks. Pasta that makes your tastebuds sing. And that's without ever looking at the dessert menu or the wine list. The salads and healthy options look sadly inadequate when compared to these culinary temptations.

And then, inevitably, I order a French dip and a mojito and claim that "the devil made me do it."

See?

Fortunately for me, I've learned that eating out doesn't have to be hell on my weight loss. The biggest factor for me? Being honest about it. If I'm out with friends or co-workers, I'm very clear about the fact that I'm trying to lose weight. Why? Because this way, I don't have an excuse to go after that burger. I may have the mojito -- after all, I'm out with friends -- but there's no reason to go overboard. And even if no one reminds you that you shouldn't have anything, it's already out there. I'm using my inordinate amount of pride to my advantage.

Also, I'm finding that there are better ways to eat. I don't necessarily have to get a salad if it doesn't sound good. Maybe I can get a grilled chicken sandwich without sauce. Add some bell peppers and onions. Mushrooms. Water. Try not to get caught in the "starving children in Africa" ploy that somehow magically compels you to clean all the crumbs from your plate.

What's more? Plan for it. If you want to splurge, fit it into your eating plan like you'd fit an appointment into your schedule. It's no reason to guilt yourself into oblivion. Like I said before, weight loss isn't about denying yourself everything. It's about learning alternatives to unhealthy habits.

Eating out is the devil. But food is not a sin. We just have to be smarter eaters.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Hunting For Health in a Sea of Cellulite

I'm in the mood to celebrate today. Despite the sudden bulge in weight that I had in the middle of last week, I stepped on the scale this morning and saw that in addition to losing the two pounds I'd put on, I'd lost another. All because I'd redoubled my efforts instead of moping and inviting my friends Ben and Jerry over for a pity party. If I had, I'd really be Phish Food about now. (Okay, you can say it. Ow.)

So now I'm going to share my secret. Even though it's not really a secret, given that my sister told me the same thing about... two months ago.

The exercise did it.

Eating healthier and putting less in your body is a start, but if you're still taking in more calories than you're burning in a day, you're just gaining weight more slowly. Which is sort of like piling up a couple of sandbags when your house is flooding, but then shrugging and saying "good enough," going inside, and reading a book as the water starts to wash over the floorboards. (If you need a mental picture to accompany this one, just think of that flood insurance commercial with the little dog floating away on the coffee table.)

Okay, okay. I know what some of you are thinking. Well, easier said than done, Jami. I can't do any of this. I have to catch my breath just getting into the car. Forget running or any of that. Well, I can tell you from experience that I do understand. But the fact of the matter is that everyone has something they can do. Not doing it just because you think you can't is only going to make the problem worse. That's what I've been learning, at least.

A few years ago, my aunt, who was losing weight at the time, gave me a DVD of Leslie Sansone, who has a walk-at-home program. At first I mentally turned up my nose. I didn't like exercise videos, I didn't like those perpetually cheery-meets-vaguely-condescending people grinning at the front of the room like they can actually see you sweating like a pig and stumbling all over yourself when they say "beautiful! Just eight more..." But then I actually tried this DVD. And to my surprise... she didn't annoy me nearly as much as normal. Even better, here was a program that was great to start on. (I should be getting paid for these product plugs...)

It's not focused on doing the moves perfectly, since it's based on walking in place. If you can't do those moves (like knee lifts) you can keep walking instead. So long as you keep moving to the rhythm. And since it's at home, you don't have to go outside and deal with people staring -- thus preserving your pride for another day. Plus, there's additional upper-body movement, giving you more than a walk. And if you feel like you're dying, just stop the DVD. No need to pull out your cell phone and call for a ride home because you can't make it.

Now, of course this isn't the only way. If you like walking outside, go for it! If you like swimming... here's a great opportunity to work out without gravity getting in the way. (It's like defying the laws of physics without having to pay for the NASA equipment.) Go out, shop around. There is something that works. Most Targets have decent fitness aisles for reasonable prices. Catherine's and Lane Bryant have some pretty spiffy activewear. (See? There I go, plugging again.) Can anyone else think of suggestions for exercise or where to get things that will help on the way? Maybe if we pool our resources, we can remedy the preconceived notion that fitness is only meant for the peppy aerobics bunnies and rippled gym rats.

After all, I've always stopped my efforts because I thought it was impossible for someone of my size. "I'll never be able to do what they do." "This is only designed for people who are already skinny, not people who actually need it." "I'll be a laughingstock if I join a class." "God, I'm dying after two minutes, how can I make it through fifteen?"

But here's the thing. Fitness is created for all people. It's just that not all people walk this earth on equal footing (literally.) Fortunately for us, fitness isn't created equal either. It's not that it doesn't work for us, it's just that we have to find different things that will work. It is out there.

I just didn't know where to look before.

Friday, August 28, 2009

I'll Have To Pencil That Into My Schedule (Or: 'Tis Only a Flesh Wound!)

My life has officially turned upside down.

On Tuesday, I head out to (another) training set for my position, until the tenth, at which point I'll be driving with my co-workers and director out to the site where I'll be working for the next eleven months. A few days later, a couple of friends will be helping me get everything moved from place to place. Which means that I have to get my life packed into neat little boxes in the next three days -- complete with packing popcorn, bubble wrap, and the occasional crunch of something fragile being murdered by its fellows within the depths of the cardboard.

It used to be that when times like this would come along, my attempts at losing weight would be the first inevitable thing to go. When I was writing my Master's thesis, I would barely emerge from my room for days at a time, only coming out when Katie or Tasha decided to drag me by the feet -- or else when sanity threatened to pack up and leave for the Bahamas. "I have to get this done," I'd say, "I don't have time for anything else. My future is on the line here. If I don't finish this, I don't get my degree."

I can't even count the number of times I used those words to excuse myself from nearly everything, especially my weight-loss. This was why I passed up the T'ai chi class. Going on daily walks. Going to the gym. My friends started to believe that I was a vampire -- and I don't mean the kind that glitters in sunlight.

And, inevitably, the chairs in the food court started being more uncomfortable. I wasn't able to sleep as well on the mattress (don't you hate it when you can't lie down without some extremity becoming hopelessly numb? I'd lie down, my leg would go numb. So I'd turn over, and the same leg would go numb. I never did figure out the logic of this.) This gradual upturn due to my "Master's-thesis stress" was what eventually led my weight to top out at the highest number I had ever seen on the scale.

Now, faced with a similar situation (though if packing takes a few more months, I'm really behind schedule), I realize that my future is on the line. But the worst-case scenario for if I don't slim down and become healthy is a lot worse (and a lot more permanent) than if I don't get these boxes packed. It was a lot more important than graduating on time. It's been a lot more important than all of these silly things I've been putting in front of my own health all my life.

In short, nothing is more important than my health.

Nothing.

I didn't abuse my italics key for nothing. See, I get the feeling that we all do this. I do. My sister does. My mother does. My friends do. And I can tell, because when I put losing weight off in order to prioritize something else, you know what they say? "It's okay, it's understandable. We've all been there." Well, maybe it is understandable. But ladies (and gentlemen), that doesn't make it acceptable!

It's sort of like that scene in Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail with the black knight. For those of you who haven't indulged in British nonsensical comedy, King Arthur is traveling with his men through the forest, and he comes across a knight clad in black armor, who challenges him to a duel. Arthur kicks his ass (I think literally at one point.) He slices off first one arm (this has such intentionally horrible effects that it can't possibly be interpreted as gory.) The black knight picks up his sword in his other hand and shouts " 'tis only a flesh wound!" Then the other arm goes. So the knight shouts a challenge at a bewildered Arthur and begins to head-butt him, charging forward. Eventually, Arthur walks away from the helmet (head inside) of the knight, who is still shouting at the king's back.

See? I told you it was nonsensical. (And probably on YouTube, for anyone who dares to look.) And I really never thought I would ever compare weight loss to Monty Python, of all things. But come on! We're sort of like the stupid Black Knight. We charge forward, ignoring our own health, until time and poor health gradually kick our asses. And as each round we ignore it draws to a close, it becomes progressively harder to win. All the time, we're belligerently ignoring our fate, shouting "it's not that bad! I'll handle it later! 'Tis only a flesh wound!"

Heh. Let's stop kidding ourselves.

There is never a better time to start (or keep up the work) than right now. The longer we put it off, the worse it gets, and the steeper the mountain goes. So instead of pretending there's nothing wrong or that we don't have time, let's be realistic. Let's reattach our limbs, dust ourselves off, and get to the real fight.

...I never said it was a perfect metaphor.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Shooting The Scale Is Not Cathartic

I had a disappointing day.

You see, since I was at that orientation for the first part of this week (which actually went impressively well, thanks to a smile and a gung-ho attitude) I didn't get a chance to weigh in on Monday like I usually do. But I'd sort of been looking forward to it, because I was so proud of how I'd done the last three days or so. I hadn't eaten between meals, had decent portions, plenty of fruit and salad, and drank nothing but water. I even went on a mile-long hike (a good portion of which was uphill.) So I stepped on the scale, expecting to celebrate a significant drop.

But the only thing to drop was my jaw.

I'd gained two pounds.

Somehow, I managed to maintain enough control of myself to not throw the scale against the wall. (I didn't refrain from tossing a few choice words at it, however.) How on earth did this happen? I'm still not sure I know. I didn't even take seconds, opted out of dessert... was it the multvitamin I'd forgotten to pack? Suddenly, I was depressed and full of frustration at the fact that it took so much effort to lose six pounds, and nothing at all to destroy my progress. I didn't even know what I'd done wrong. (Come to it, I'm still not entirely sure.)

So what do I do in this situation?

My first response was to sit down and cry for a minute. I only cry when I'm angry, you see -- and I was pissed. But it was probably a healthy thing to mourn the loss of progress, the frustration, the dead end. And for a minute, I wanted to give up. Okay, more like twenty minutes.

But here's where I have to stop and pay attention to my own progress: my first response was not to eat. I was so angry at myself that I decided instead to exercise. To make up for what I'd done. Sure, for a moment I regarded it as fitting punishment. But slowly, as I worked, that wore away and I felt better. The endorphins started to flow, and I calmed down. I felt better. And then I looked at the bucket list we put together, and remembered that if I stopped, I would never get to have any of these things if I copped out now.

Another positive point? I realized that I am feeling full after smaller amounts from eating less at that retreat. So I may have gained weight, but I've gained an extra tool to help me be more effective later. And because I exercised my stress and disappointment away, I had more energy to be active throughout the day, effectively helping me to use my frustration to redouble my efforts.

Maybe it wasn't such a disappointing day after all.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Like a Bucket List, Only Without the Bucket

This post is a little early, since I'm off early tomorrow and will be gone until Wednesday night, and I'm not sure if there will be internet access or not. So if the next one doesn't come in until Thursday morning, please forgive me. It's a three-hour drive.

I would also like to take a minute to do a shameless plug! My friend Beth from college is also doing a weight-loss blog, and I wanted to point it out. If you'd like to check out this bright-eyed soprano's chronicles of weight-loss (and yoga!), you can find it at http://basggetskinny.blogspot.com . I know. Smartass musicians have to stick together, right?

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I've spent a lot of time thus far taking note of how easy it is to get caught up in all the things I can't do. How spectacularly bad I am at all things physical and how this tends to absolutely run my life. And this is all true. That frustration starts out as a productive thing, pushing me to go further and do better, because I'm afraid that I'll always be like this if I don't do something.

That said, the frustration is a horrible place to stop. It's far too easy to turn that around into self-loathing, depression and all that other crap your therapist says is bad for you. So I decided to try something. What if, instead of saying "damnit, I can't run a mile without stopping, poor me, boo-hoo, etc. etc. pity party," I said "you know, it'll be really nice when I can run a mile without stopping."

Semantics, right?

I know. I don't like the "feel-good-I'd-like-to-teach-the-world-to-sing" stuff either. It feels like a product Richard Simmons is trying to sell me in order to rub in the fact that I physically cannot hug myself (without drowning in a sea of arm-fat.) I always end up feeling like the people who always try to put a good face on things end up ignoring their real feelings and so they always look happy, when in reality they are neglecting their feelings so much that they end up more unhappy than normal. They just fake it better. Some of my family was like this, and I never knew if what I was seeing was real. But I do believe that there's a difference between this super-extreme perma-cheer and trying to put a positive spin on a negative situation.

So here's my idea. I started a list of things I want to be able to do when I'm healthier. Things that, admittedly, I can't do now. But this way, instead of focusing on the fact that I can't, I'm re-routing it so I can look forward to being able to do it in the future. It's sort of like having your own personal bucket list, only without that part where you die in the end.

Now, if you want to do the same, note that the list can include anything you want it to. Everyone is different. What are you interested in? What is that one thing that slaps you in the face when you're out in public? Put down whatever you like! (Though a word to the wise, if there are PG-13 things in there, keep it in your sock drawer instead of on the fridge. Fewer awkward questions.)

Here are some of the things I'm looking forward to:

-- Shopping for clothing that isn't plus-sized.
-- Taking full-body photos without cringing and cropping.
-- Not having to ask for seat extensions on airplanes. (Also, not being one of those people that people hate sitting next to on planes because they take up all the space.)
-- Being able to wear heels (theoretically.)
-- Learning to fence.
-- Being able to see my navel without an act of contortionism.
-- Not being afraid to go to the doctor.
-- Not walking funny. (Let's face it, I waddle a little. Sort of unavoidable.)
-- Keeping up with my nephew.
-- Going out with my friends and not having to worry about holding them back.
-- Sitting in a booth in a restaurant without leaving table-marks on my stomach.
-- Rock climbing/hiking.
-- Wakeboarding/snowboarding.

See? Most of these things are so little, but they make a difference to me. And that's what matters. I have many more. There are a million reasons to make this choice. That's the beauty of this sort of thing. There isn't a reason in the world to not work toward this goal. Leastways, not any that make a lick of sense if you really stop to think.

So I have a favor to ask. Help me add to this list. Even if you just have one idea, put it down! Chances are, someone else has been there. I know it seems cheesy and screams "life coach," but that doesn't make it wrong. So just bear with me, because this is the sort of thing that makes the fight personal, that makes it matter.

And if it's not personal... if it doesn't matter... what good is it?

Friday, August 21, 2009

Why We Put the "Die" in "Diet"

Dieting sucks.

There's no point in trying to deny it. It involves hunger, sweat (and the smell that comes with it), and tears. Toss in a little bit of blood, a whole lot of telling yourself "no," and that strange low-calorie substitute that can claim fame neither as butter nor as margarine... and you've got yourself a regular fun fest. Even this afternoon, it was really hard to go for that chicken salad when I wanted that mushroom burger. And I love ranch dressing. Fries, chicken, salad, pizza. You name it, I put ranch on it. Well, I did, anyway.

Let us all stand in a moment of silence as we respectfully mourn the passing of an age.

It's really easy to get caught up in all the things I can't have. Goodbye, chocolate. Au revoir, ice cream. Sayonnara, all things pastry. Helloooo, carrot sticks.

At least, that's how I always thought of it before, and I think that's a lot of the reason it failed. Now I confess, I've lost my first six pounds, and it hasn't been on my own. I decided to go through Weight Watchers. No, this isn't a plug -- unless someone from the company is willing to pay to make it one. (It's the student loans, they make me desperate.) What I like, though, is that it's making me do all the work, but educating me in how to do it. Because I finally realize a profound truth.

I am a nutrition and fitness moron.

It isn't a put-down, it's just a simple fact. So why try to lose weight on my own? It's like asking me to do surgery on someone when I only vaguely know what a scalpel is. It doesn't work, and it makes a mess. In the end, I suffer and get discouraged, thinking that I'm a failure when really I just didn't know what I was doing. This isn't to say that you should trust everything you read. (After all, what else made Atkins so successful but people just taking others at their word?) But I am succeeding thus far because I am taking the opportunity to educate myself and re-evaluate my ideas of what a diet really is. And my not-so-riveting conclusion is this: dieting sucks.

Thus I end exactly where I began, but here there's a new twist: dieting doesn't do any good! All it does is teach you that health is a hellish temporary state where you deny yourself everything you want in punishment for being fat until you shed the pounds -- at which point you stop and say "okay! Good enough!"

Which is sort of like cleaning your house once every five years when you can't take it anymore.

In my case, as I've said before, it requires a full-on perspective change. I don't think in terms of "I can't have this." If I do that, it becomes sort of like swearing to Tom Sawyer. He wanted to more and more when he wasn't allowed to. But when he could, it wasn't so important anymore. If I try to deny myself something, I'm setting myself up to splurge and overeat. Instead, I'm going for the "eat smart" approach. The one that says "if I'm craving ice cream, I can find something smart and measure out a half cup." (Dreyer's sugar-free slow-churned is fabulous, for example.) Or "I'm hungry. But if I don't eat, I'll overeat later. So I'll have something small and filling now. Like fruit." (The more water content something has, the more filling it is.) So I'm actually making changes that are positive for my body in the long run (as opposed to losing weight whatever it takes), and I'm a hell of a lot less moody doing it.

In fact... I actually feel good.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Ladies and Gentlemen: The 2x4 of Motivation

First off, I apologize for not having written in the last week or two. The more discouraged I get, the less I write. The less I write, the less I do. The less I do, the less I lose. And the less I lose, the more discouraged I get. It's a vicious cycle I've fallen into lately.

Therefore, I really do think I should write. It solves the whole problem, if you look at it by that logic.

So the goal is to get this going on a Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule so I don't overload anyone (including myself) but I still have a commitment to make so that I'll be on time.

Yes, I'm aware that it's Tuesday.

****

I have one of those multi-day orientations coming up next week for work. Now, I've experienced many of these, particularly in the last six or seven years. Leadership summits. Undergrad orientation (heh). Scholarship conferences. Two week-long orientation sessions when I studied abroad. Grad school orientation (which was the best of the lot of them, mostly because they offered wine. This is common practice, as it soothes the nerves of the perpetually disgruntled and overworked intellectual elitists known as grad students. If your field has an -ology attached, they offer even more wine.) But I digress. The point is, I've never liked these things. I see their value, but I still find myself wanting to counterfeit a jury summons just to get out of them. Why?

Because orientations are designed to showcase their participants in an effort to get everyone acquainted. But since we don't want to ruffle any feathers, we're going to build camaraderie by leveling the field with some easy, fun activities that everyone can do. Like the Funky Chicken. Slightly embarrassing, but we're all doing it, so it's fun, right?

Not at 300 pounds. At that size, there's no way to dance the Funky Chicken without feeling more like the Funky Albatross of the group. The scavenger hunts around town (or even around campus) do me in after about fifteen minutes. And sometimes, when they include really interesting things (like the surfing lessons in Australia) I have to sit out altogether because there simply isn't a wetsuit in my size. Sorry.

And of course, none of this bodes well for making first impessions. In the end, I spend so much time hiding or compensating for my weight that I never actually get the chance to showcase my strengths. Things like my charisma, my intellect, and my off-kilter sense of humor have been irrevocably silenced because I'm too afraid to speak up for fear of looking like a fool or drawing attention to my unappealing form. I spend these times people-watching, learning the ropes by proxy. Safer, but inevitably lonely. It doesn't help, of course, that this shoots me in the foot. I remember the end of several of these events where at the end of the week, I shake the hands of the other participants and go to wish them well. The general response? "I'm sorry, what's your name again? You were here for the whole week? Really? I'm sorry, I didn't notice..."

Yet we wonder why there's such a correlation between obesity and low self-esteem.

I don't talk about this out of a desire to be a cynic, a downer, or even a disgruntled grad student. In all actuality, I wonder now if blaming this discomfort on my weight hasn't all been a crutch. A defense mechanism to keep me from looking foolish, or else a scapegoat for when I do. You see, I generally operate on the assumption that when one person first views another, their eyes go from general to specific. A short fat woman. And then things like hair, eyes, and the food stuck between your front teeth come into play. So, based on that, I assume that I'm somehow at a disadvantage when making first impressions because my physical form isn't appealing. Then, when forced into physical activity (something at which I fail spectacularly) in front of strangers... I lose my nerve because I think I've lost all hope of making a good impression.

And so because I'm embarrassed or frightened at being out of my element, I actually shut off all those good attributes I talked about before in an effort to blend in. And then I blend in so well that I could be singing "Mr. Cellophane" from the musical Chicago.

And it's all my own doing. Well done me.

This is where the "remix of perspective" comes in. If I assume that losing weight will make me into a more confident, vibrant person, I've got a serious case of logic dyslexia. Being a confident, vibrant person will help me lose weight.

Don't believe me? Try this on for size.

The only people that actually make positive changes in their lives are the ones who care enough about themselves to do so.

Tough love, isn't it? But whether I like it or not, it's true -- no matter how I look at it. And it's a hard one for me to admit, considering that I think of myself as a charismatic, confident person. It hits me right in the gut to think that maybe I've been hiding behind my weight, using it as an excuse to not have to step up.

I was going to end this post with something quasi-profound, but I think I need to take a bit more time to ponder the full implications of what I've just said.

I wonder if it's possible to choke on your own moral fiber.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

No Cure for the Swimsuit Blues

It occurs to me now that I jumped on my own personal bandwagon a season too late. Back in DC I had athletic classes I could attend (I remember now actually passing up a T'ai chi class due to my Master's thesis), friends to work out with, free access to a gym -- and weather that was barely brushing 80 at its finest. Now, as I struggle to find ways to exercise by myself in triple-digit temperatures... I realize that my timing was probably a bit off.

After all, summer is the dreaded swimsuit season. And if I'd just started a season earlier, I might not dread putting it on quite so much. But there's nothing for it now. Day four of the new regime, and the summer barbeque is tomorrow. Complete with the traditional donning of the dreaded swimsuit.

Oddly, with this on the horizon, I kicked it up a notch today. Almost as if I expected it to actually make me drop twenty pounds before tomorrow. It's amusing to see that the things that I never let bother me before (i.e. how I looked in a bathing suit) are now so horrifying now that being this size has become a temporary condition rather than a permanent fate. Before, I got past it. I had to, because it was just one of those things. And if I didn't deal, I'd never do anything I wanted to do. But now I almost want to hold myself back.

A lifetime of being overweight and now I develop terror at the thought of swimming in public? Did my synapses just not fire all these years or something?

Talking to a friend about this, she said that it made sense to be stressed when the status quo was changing. And when I stopped to think, the situation reminded me of nothing so much as a little kid drawing a picture for their parents, yelling "don't look, Mommy, don't look! I'm not done yet!" Though I hope to be a little better-drawn than anything rendered in Crayola, it does feel a little like that. I secretly want to hide away and not show anyone until I consider myself "ready" to be seen.

But if that was the proper course, I would not be seeing my sister, who's been on this track for nearly a year and has dropped 55 lbs so far. (So proud of you.) And I probably wouldn't be able to keep trying. After all, I'm doing this for me. For my health, for my confidence. But the people around me give me extra incentive. If I never had to worry about being embarrassed around people I cared about, why would I feel inconvenienced enough to make a change?

I wouldn't.

I'd have a perfectly good excuse to sit on my ass.

So in other words, ladies, quit it. Don't be like that. (Or, a la Riggs in Lethal Weapon 4: "Don't be a don't-be, Rog. Be a do-be.") Ahem. Point is, we're never going to get the juice to get off our asses and make that change if we don't get out there and see why we need to. If we hide away and pray no one will notice, no one will. And neither will we. And we miss out on a whole lot of living in the process.

So this summer, let us don the swimsuit with pride and shake our groove-thangs with the best of them (though perhaps not at the same time.) Let them stare, let them look. Let them admire our courage for it. (After all, even if you're a size 2, very few women actually like their bodies.) And if they judge? So what? That only means that we have more confidence for it. That we have enough self-respect to live our lives instead of hiding.

It all comes down to one thing, mushy and clichéd as it might sound. Without the confidence and self-respect to live our lives to their fullest potential... that perfect body is worth absolutely nothing.

Friday, July 31, 2009

From Couch Potato to French Fry: Finding an Exercise Niche

Exercise has always been one of my deal-breakers. But contrary to what one might think, the issue is not being tired. I'm used to being tired. It's not the breathing hard, though I certainly do a lot of that. The fact of the matter is that I get bored. I don't like that I can't do it very well, so my mind starts to wander in any one of eighteen directions, and I give up in favor of something that occupies my mind. This has been remedied, to some extent, by music. Yet still, most days I talk myself into this catch-22 that remembers being tired, being bored, and then I don't feel like I have the energy to bother. Which of course means that I give up the energy I would have earned by exercising.

Thus continues a day in the life of a couch potato.

Thus, I've been trying over the last few days to research different forms of exercise. I started with things I didn't want. I didn't want something that was just exercise for the sake of exercise. After all, I'm an obnoxiously ambitious person by nature, and if I don't have a goal to work toward, then I usually don't see the point. And I didn't want something mindless. I hear walking clears your head, but if mine clears too much, it begins to rattle (and it's important to keep your brains from falling out.) Finally, I wanted something I could actually start to do. Ballroom dancing is well and good (and something I intend to learn someday) but I'm missing a few things. Like a teacher. A partner. The facilities. The ability to walk in, much less dance in, heels. And let's face it. Even if I had all of that, the effect would not be a pretty sight, and would most likely end in bruised feet, black eyes, sprained ankles and a fatally wounded pride.

And then, by chance, I discovered a T'ai chi DVD when I was out shopping yesterday. While it certainly won't teach you the nuances of the discipline that a class will, it had everything I was looking for. Focus. Discipline. An attainable goal. It even addresses balance and coordination (which is something I've discovered I have astonishingly little of.) As a bonus: it's a slowed-down version of a discipline that is fully capable of kicking some ass. Which has its own value, of course.

It's probably not surprising that I loved it. I realize that I'm not very good. (Okay... I'm not any good.) But it's a good place to start learning, to start exercising. And then I can get more involved via a class (provided there is one available in close proximity) or not, as I choose. If I keep at it, now that I've found something I honestly like to do, it has a double benefit. Exercise that I'm excited about to help me lose weight... and something new and different I can learn.

Maybe then, the key to staying on task with exercise is to figure out what it is that you want. To be honest, realistic, and narrow down your choices based on your own situation. And using that, find an activity that can act as a hobby.

Though my sore body protests, it certainly beats sitting on the couch.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Out of Idaho (not Africa)

My most chronic problem with trying to lose weight is always short-lived overexuberance. I'll push myself for about three days to a week. Then, at the end of that week, I'll be so exhausted, so bitterly reminded of all the things I can't do, that I'd rather just not worry about the whole blessed mess. And during those days, because I've pushed so hard and seen no results (on one memorable spurt, I actually gained 2 lbs and stared in wonder at the scale that was trying so adamantly to mock me), I actually manage to forget all the good parts, and focus instead on getting in touch with my inner Grumpeteer. (Which is sort of like the Mouseketeers, had they been run by Grumpy Bear instead of Mickey Mouse.) In the end, I'm cramping, I'm (sometimes) bleeding, I'm wanting chocolate and I'm emotional as hell.

It's like that time of the month all over again.

So how do I keep this new regime from being like a permanent bout of PMS? Well, first off... now that I've taken the blue pill of reality (thanks, Morpheus) I should probably wash it down with a little humility. No, I can't do everything that others can do. I can't run a marathon, or even a mile (though I'm perfectly capable of having a heart attack in the process.) But I can walk it. The mile, not the marathon. And then I can try two miles, then three. Then, maybe, after awhile, I'll be ready to start running. Just not quite yet.

I've done a lot of traveling during my college years, and am somewhat of a veteran when it comes to long spurts of travel. So I think of this process as something like being in small-town Idaho trying to get to Jakarta. You can do it, but first you have to drive to Boise, catch a plane, connect after a twelve-hour layover at LA or Seattle, and then endure a maddeningly long flight. The kind full of crying babies, bad smells, belligerent businesspeople and that girl that's getting drunk in the seat next to you because it's her twenty-first birthday (and consequently using the restroom every twenty minutes.) And even then, your flight may or may not take a just-for-kicks stop over in Hong Kong or Seoul before you ever touch down on Indonesian soil.

In short: it's long, tiring, frustrating, hard, and involves a language you probably don't speak. But if you want to do it, you just have to prepare. Break it down into those smaller legs. Give yourself and others some credit and try not to let the frustration get you down. Spice up the trip with things you enjoy. It may not actually take any less time, but it's easier to get there. So right now, I'm not headed to Indonesia. That's still a fair distance ahead of me.

I'm just trying to get out of Idaho.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Great Experiment

I am 23 years old. 5'3". Styled, dark blonde hair (the color of "twilight and shadows", according to a friend in a corny moment.) Intellectual-meets-trendy box rim glasses. Full lips, perfect teeth, and large, deep grey eyes someone, someday will get lost in.

I am also 300 pounds.

Now, if you're anything like me, you just imagined something akin to the figure in Wii Fit blowing up to epidemic proportions, as if inflated with a large tire pump, while the computer-chipmunk voice oogles and says "omg! omg!" Or perhaps, this is only another of my infinitely odd mental pictures.

I've lived with this problem for most of my life. When I was a child, it was "baby fat". I operated on the assumption that it was a temporary condition, like acne. It too, would drift away one day on its own accord. Not surprisingly... it hasn't.

I always thought that my problem with my weight was that I didn't like what I saw when I looked in the mirror. I didn't like that I couldn't wear trendy clothes, didn't like that my body was man-repellent, personified. After awhile, I thought that I didn't like that I wasn't healthy. That I couldn't cross my legs. Couldn't wear skirts without my legs chafing. Couldn't climb multiple flights of stairs without needing CPR and a cheer squad.

I was wrong. It's all those things. I now wonder how it is that I let something like this rule over me. Everything I do, my weight comes into play first. Will I fit? Can I do it and keep up? Will I look like an idiot? Will others stare? Will I bump into people? (After all, the butt can be a lethal weapon, given enough circumference.) The words "does this dress make me look fat" never crossed my mind, because let's face it. If you can't see it, you either have the sight of Stevie Wonder or the integrity of Rod Blagojevich.

And so, all these things in mind, life becomes not about my potential, not about my capabilities, but about how to get past my weight long enough to do it. Which makes my entire life about what I can't do. I want to be done with that life, that perspective. Hence, the experiment.

I've seen blogs online about women losing weight. One in particular called "The Adventures of Dietgirl" (which I really recommend, should you get the chance.) Maybe mine will be nothing new and different. But it's a way to say what I want to say, to keep myself accountable as I go down this new, exciting road filled with fruit, yoga, and all around ass-kicking. It's my effort to give some humor and encouragement to someone else as I go, so that I have the motivation to keep trying.

So join me for the ride, dear friend, if the road be long and your butt be as big as mine. It's sure to be one heck of a trip.