Will You Run with Me?

While living on the West Coast, I used to jog in a forest of redwoods. I got my nature fix along with a dose of really good exercise. A redwood forest is a magical place - trees soaring to the sky, dappled sunlight dancing through tree limbs, spring water runoff dancing down the pebble strewn streams, the smell of fallen leaves. A jog there leaves you refreshed and feeling at one with the universe.

Careers and family brought us back east. Back to humidity, four seasons and more humidity. I gave up jogging. Now that I am on my quest for health and personal understanding and peace with my body, I started jogging again. The scenery is different but the internal peace remains the same.

Why do we stop exercising when it can make us feel so good inside and out??

Directionally Correct!

Woohoo -- down another 2 pounds! Nu4You is working for me! Watching my fats, grains and starches, meats, etc. is a scientific approach to lifestyle eating that's based on allowances and portion sizes, not calorie counting. And the system resonates with me. I've written before about my love/hate relationship with a food log but, heck, who can argue with success.

Now that I'm down a few pounds, I am getting more focused on exercise. My goal is to compete in a 10k here on April 4. Wish me luck!

God, I Hate Fat Ass Clothes!

Got another motivating kick in the ass yesterday - the just god-awful styling of plus size clothes! What idiots design that garbage? People who think large size women don't have curves?? Don't want to be stylish? Who do want to wear something other than hideous flowers in lime green and orange?

It was re-assuring that plus-size women were the store clerks. It wasn't re-assuring to see that they had consumed gallons of buy-our-clothes-koolaid. Ever been to a kindergarten class in which the kiddies are mini Picassos and are happily sloshing paint every which way on those enormous pieces of paper? Then, imagine taking that piece of paper and fashioning a shirt for a plus-size gal out of it. And don't bother to add any darts or seams that would shape the mess. Hey, fat ass girls just want to hide under yards of fabrics! Double-D tits in lime green and orange flowers the size of Florida is a sight just too awful to behold.

Get with it designers of plus-size clothes -- 'cuz gals like me run screaming from your stores and head straight to the gym. Your merchandise is a major motivator to lose weight!

Frangos and Old Friends

Anyone ever tasted a Frango?! (A delightful chocolate treat from the old Marshall Field stores now available through Macy's.) I hadn't thought of Frangos for years, not since leaving the Midwest. But yesterday I received an email from a long ago work colleague (isn't social media just great in how you can reconnect?) who remembered how I loved Frangos, especially the chocolate mint variety.

Of all the work experiences we had, he remembered Frangos. Is that a sign of how well he knew me, or rather a sign of the fat messages (involuntary, voluntary, whatever) I sent eons ago about what was important to me??? Yikes! Who knows what to think!

Down 10, a Gazillion to go!

For almost 3 weeks now I've been "good" food-wise. My reward is losing 10 pounds -- sweet! It feels quite good to accomplish something positive with my weight. It felt even better yesterday to zip up a pair of long-hanging-in-the-closet-but-too-small-to-wear pants.

From past experience I know I can hang in here for another 3 weeks and be food-smart. Then I get brain-silly and start shoveling in the gumdrops, cheese, cookies, pizza, 2 cheeseburgers, whatever. Maybe emotion-silly is a better descriptor. All I know is that a some trigger gets pulled deep inside. Then I forget all the resolutions and tears, reaching for food to mindlessly eat and eat. Sometimes it is a one- or two-time binge and then I'm back on the program. Other times, I'm lost and my diet is over. My last "get good" period was four years ago when I lost 80 pounds. I stayed at it for 18 months.

Sadly, I reverted to old habits and regained 60 of those hard-lost pounds. I've moved to a new city in the last year. Everyone I meet now only knows me as a fat person, not the image I want people to have of me. Not the self-image I want either. I want to get off the weight roller coaster for good. Here's an Oprah quote that resonates with me: "It took me a while to get to the truth. I didn't love food. I used food to numb my negative feelings."

My task -- keep losing weight while figuring out what I am hiding or compensating for or trying to heal or trying to hide. What a journey it's gonna be!

I'd love to have company -- does anyone out there want to come along?

Paying the Bills

After my 6 year-old sister had her accident many, many years ago, she needed lots of medical care. With a tree branch puncturing your brain, many physical and mental things go wrong. It was endless trips to the doctor, stays in the hospital, and always new tests to try to find answers. These things cost money, so we went from quite comfortable to pinching pennies. Insurance didn't cover all the costs, and my parents were determined that no portion of any bill went unpaid.

I was 8 when the accident happened and entered my early teens during Suzie's medical parade. How I longed for all the clothes, accessories and lessons that my friends were enjoying at that age. There was money for basic school clothes and shoes. I, however, longed for designer shirts and endless shoes and senselessly spending money at the mall and piano lessons and family vacations at the beach.

At 16, I went to work. It was a part-time job that provided the long lusted for lucre to buy clothes and purses and shoes and jewelry. Being on a first name basis with the clerks at a local ladies store was a delight. My junior and senior years at high school were blissful from the monetary fruits of my part-time and summer labors.

High school graduation came, and the prospect of education and a future in fashion design was within my reach. Suzie's health had stabilized from a daily cocktail of meds, so life was less financially pinched. Home routine had shifted when another sister was born when I was 12. She was like a pet to me and my high school friends.

Then life blew us all off course when my father died unexpectedly at age 46. A massive heart attack at work and he was gone in minutes. With all of Suzie's medical bills, there was no big bank account or retirement fund, just a few thousand dollars in life insurance. I was 18 and went to work. The family needed the money.

Orange Towels, Fruit and Protein

Had my first conversation with my nutrition coach today. (Isn't it just amazing that there are coaches for just about everything these days?!) We talked about my progress -- what I am eating; how much I am eating; what kind of exercise I am doing and how much; what percent of fats, proteins and carbohydrates my diet consists of; and how much weight I've lost. Wow, pretty comprehensive -- and all I used to do was step on the scale (step off and head for the jelly beans, chocolate or Cheetos. I was/am an indiscriminate junk food junkie who figured that after all that deprivation I hadn't lost a sufficient amount of weight so why not eat).

Over all, I'm doing pretty well according to my coach. Two areas of improvement are upping my protein and my fruit. I never realized how hard it could be to eat 9 ounces of protein and 4 servings of fruit every day. I never had that problem with gumdrops -- grab a bag and off you go!

I am making progress physically -- seeing the weight go down. Mentally, I'm getting used to thinking about 4 servings of grains/starches a day. Spiritually, I know deep down in my soul that I have a weight problem. Emotionally, I'm still in first grade with a long way to go.

Did you know that I am addicted to big, fluffy bath towels? Who gives a rat's pootutty, you say! Was doing some more poking around in the nooks and crannies of my psyche to plumb what ails me. When I was growing up, my Mom was a total freak-out clean-aholic. She washed and ironed my tights; she hosed out the garage every week; we wore clothes of a certain color on a certain day to match her laundry schedule; all bath towels had to be white; she chloroxed the living shit out of those bath towels. Which meant that we basically dried off with a paper towel masquerading as a bath towel. A gallon of Chlorox every wash cycle wreaks havoc with cotton and doesn't leave much fiber for drying.

So once I started supporting myself, my homes have been chock-a-block full of the fluffiest towels, all in a rainbow of colors. No white towels or Chlorox live under my roof.

So, see how I compensate for what I perceived as deprivation as a child. So I figure there's a similar correlation for my weight and body image issue. Ah, but lots more poking around is needed before I unearth those relationships.

Denial Raises Its Ugly Head

What is it about losing a few pounds that instantly makes me think I am skinny? I feel skinny. I think skinny. So I eat. My only consolation is that the eating binge has been much, much worse in the past and it has continued much longer. At least one pound or two of gumdrops wasn't involved!

I stuck to my nutrition plan all day yesterday, then went totally hog wild in the evening -- downing nearly half a box of Cheese-Its. Sure they were the lowfat kind, but half a box?! My first mistake was taking the box into the living room with me instead of counting out the 31 crackers that my plan allows. (Just a week ago I thought that was a rich trove of goodies!) That first handful tasted delicious, the second one even better. All the while I am congratulating myself mentally on having a light dinner of scallops, cabbage and carrots washed down with nonfat milk and being down 3 pounds on the scale.

My mind's eye totally ignored the Saturday evening getting-ready-to-go-to-a-party fiasco. In my new-found skinny euphoria I drag out a pair of black silk party pants from two years ago -- purchased at a swanky department store chain as a gift to myself. I'm going to be the most fashionable woman at the event, I purr to myself. The black silk pants, the royal blue silk tunic, those to-die-for blue Manolos and my drop-dead fashion statement necklace. I'm going to be Vogue-worthy.

Vogue-worthy? What a joke! I pulled on the pants, delighted that they are pulling on so easily. See, this diet stuff is working! Then reality snaps my head back when there's a good six inches between each side of the pant when I try to zip them up, with that root belly belly poking out in-between.

The plus side here is that I recognize that I slipped into old habits last night -- failing to portion out my food and indulging in delusional thinking. So it's onward and upward once again!

It's Working!

Woohoo! Seven days of a solid nutrition plan and I am down 3 pounds! Logging every morsel that crosses my lips and every wiggle of exercise isn't a concept that I love but I'm able to embrace it so far. If the old saw is true that it takes 21 days to make a habit, I've got 14 days to go before the new approach to eating is more natural. After 21 days I'll still probably have to count servings of grains, starches, fruits and vegetables but hopefully it will come a little more easily.

I still think about food. There was this show on TLC this afternoon about four morbidly obese people that was well, morbidly fascinating. 3 men, 1 woman. The men were so large (700 pounds or so) they spent their days in bed. In comparison, the woman was just a slip of a thing at 365 pounds but consuming almost 15,000 calories a day, on track to weigh 700 pounds in two years at that eating rate.

The camera work was ghoulish but infinitely fascinating -- close-ups of all 4 people eating, spoonful after spoonful of food, the fat glistening on their lips, the chewing motions, ugh. It was nauseating. And inspiring in an odd way. Who wants to look like those folks? Have to live in a bed like they do? Appear weak like they do? Claim to have a food addiction like they do? I felt pity and disgust combined and want no one to have those thoughts when they look at me.

To Root Beer Bellies and Food Logs

It's a fascinating concept. Writing down every morsel you eat, when you eat it, your mood when you eat it and the company you keep when eating. Kinda like the diaries we kept as young girls to record our secret thoughts about those very first boyfriends. Except this feels so much more intrusive. Holy smokes, it's a record of every crumb, every cookie, every bag of gumdrops that I'm feeding to sustain that root beer belly of mine. And sustain it I am!

Just like how I've avoided mirrors and plate glass windows for years, I've obviously also avoided paying any attention to the quantity of what I stuff into my face every day. I was tempted to cheat at the beginning of my recordkeeping. But I was curious enough about the whole process of getting in touch that I decided the "full monty" of recordkeeping was needed without any quantity editing. I do hope that my food journal is truly between my nutritionist and me. Someone coming across the contents of those daily records would think it was a shopping list for feeding sumo wrestlers.

My idea of the perfect afternoon snack -- a venti white chocolate mocha and a sweet roll from Starbucks. And of course the mocha is whole milk with whipped cream, thank you very much. OMG! There's a whole day's worth of calories in what I think of as a snack!!!

Well, here's to weaning the root beer belly away from venti mochas!

New Week, New Eating Style

Nifty -- a nutritionist who wants you to focus on your eating as a lifestyle, not a diet. OK, OK, maybe zillions of others have found this advice before but it feels new to me. So I'm going to give it a try. Nothing to lose except for maybe a few pounds!

Daily servings of grains and starches, non-starchy vegetables, fruit, dairy, very lean meats, healthy fats -- that's not so hard to do. Or so it seems today -- where were those nuggets of wisdom last night at the Super Bowl party when I inhaled 3 chocolate chip cookies?? I ate that first one and it was like the dying man at the well. I was a goner. So this morning on my nutritionist's web site I looked up the calorie count for those cookies. I was just floored to discover that I snarfed up 1300 calories in about 10 minutes -- OMG! That's a 100 more calories than I am supposed to eat in a day on his plan!

So today I'm off on a journey with a new eating plan and a new way to look at food. I've been down this road lots of times before but this time I have a new found desire to make it stick. On my earlier diets, I lacked the interest to explore my motivation to eat and eat and eat and not really pay attention to eating and eating and eating. There's obviously something that I'm trying to do with food to cover up or compensate for other issues. So let's get to the bottom of this once and for all.

I'd love to hear from others who may have taken this journey and arrived in a good place.