Smart Girl
Missions Accomplished.
1) Exercised. Didn't want to. Had some really, super great excuses as to why exercise would be a bad idea. But I did anyway. And it was a good idea. Ran 45 mins and lifted. I had to drop some weight while lifting, but that's ok.
2) Breakfast eaten, though not hungry.
3) Coffee ingested.
4) Ate planned lunch.
5) Didn't eat before late class. Which brings us to...
6) Dinner was late and a lot. I was really hungry by the time I got home. All "healthy" food, but in great quantity. Moral of the story: find a way, any way, to eat something substantial before the start of class.
7) I ate too much, but it wasn't emotional eating, just me not knowing how much will fill me up.
8) I never get enough sleep.
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Plan for traveling:
1) Exercise Friday. I usually don't. But I might not on Sat, and working out on Friday will make slacking off ok.
2) Diet won't be perfect. Aim for salad bar for Friday dinner. Try to go on a walk when I get into town Friday afternoon.
3) Get healthy snacks for Saturday. It's going to be a long day without lunch (yep, an 8 hour interview). I'm thinking soynuts, an apple, and my beloved chunks of energy.
4) Get something before driving home. Trying to make it home for dinner will lead to an unfortunate Fast Food Incident.
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Sorry for the tedious detail. I need to be focused and accountable right now. I feel good about how I'm pulling things together. And I think I can keep it up while traveling.
I don't have much to say lately. I feel the need to retreat and lick my wounds. I won't give up. And I also won't accept the way I am treating and thinking about myself. I'm still nervous about seeing Great Love #1. I go back and forth between thinking 'screw it, this is me, bring it on!' and getting really depressed and anxious and down on myself.
This whole thing has me so confused. I really wish someone could explain exactly why this is so hard. I'm a smart girl. Yet the difficulty of losing weight baffles me.
Small and Reasonable
Yesterday’s post was a breakthrough for me. Until I wrote it, I didn’t realize that what frustrates me most right now isn’t gaining weight (or, not losing weight) but my seeming inability to Stop Eating. My focus, then, needs to be on behavior change. I see a couple steps here.
I need to feel in control of what I eat.
This feeling of control can be accomplished by setting Small and Reasonable Goals.
Once Small and Reasonable Goals are established and met, I will feel more able to confront the Binging Beast within. And, maybe, do something totally radical like start behaving like someone who is trying to lose weight.
Small and Reasonable Goals
1) Exercise everyday. Even if I don’t want to (like I didn’t this morning, but did anyway).
2) Eat a healthy, filling breakfast. More often than not, this will include an apple, steel cut oats, and soymilk.
3) Please, for the love of all that is caffeinated, drink coffee!
4) Eat lunch!! Including protein! Eating lunch is actually a challenge for me. I am always “too busy” or “not hungry.” But skipping lunch always haunts me later in the day. I have lunches prepared for the rest of the week, so I’ve eliminated that excuse.
5) Even if there is no time for an early dinner, and there is never time for an early dinner, eat something before evening classes. Include protein.
6) Dinner after school and work can be late. Include protein.
7) Eating dessert, this week, will not be considered “failing.” Eating dessert is not cause for alarm or stress or guilt. It should be done in reasonable portions.
8) If I decide to eat for emotional reasons, please journal about those reasons before overeating.
9) Get lots and great sleep!
**What is important to me about these goals is that they are all positive: none of them include “do not.” Thus, if after achieving these goals I want to eat dessert, so be it. I’ll let you know how it goes.
I got an interview for a summer job. But the interview is in DC, which means I’ll be in a hotel room. Me and hotels and diet and exercise never really mesh. Small and Reasonable Goals will therefore be adjusted to accommodate special challenges. This is happening on Friday-Saturday. My ex-great love is consequently staying with another friend these days.
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Follow-up:
Tried to post this in the morning. Oh, blogger, not again. Let's review:
1) Done. Didn't want to, but ran for an hour and practised pilates.
2) Done, as planned.
3) Too much caffeine, if anything.
4) Ate planned lunch. Wasn't hunger and didn't have time, but did anyway.
5) I kinda ate early. I had a couple bites of food before my evening class.
6) Ate a good dinner. Not until 9pm. Also ate many almonds, almond butter and a frozen 'nana. Probably too many calories, but this is a huge step in the right direction.
In general, I'm still feeling shaky and ambiguous about this while thing. But recognzing these accomplishments does boost my self-esteem an teeny bit.
Not saying anything
Like the saying goes, if you don't have anything nice to say... I'm back, with nothing nice to report. I'm tired, I'm stressed, and I am really, really sick of myself and my pathetic little excuses. I'm tired of picking myself up. I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of promising that tomorrow will be better. I'm tired of writing this post.
Needless to say, staying with the folks did not go great, at all. I guess it could have been worse. It's hard for me to really accept that it could have been worse, but a couple years ago it
was much, much worse. But I can't start cheering over what went down this weekend.
So, I think I am going to slack off the eating part of things for a while. I can't beat myself anymore. I can't shame myself or hate myself thin. If I could, I'd be the thinnest woman this side of....um....a bag of chocolate covered pretzels?
Plan: while slacking off on the diet (without guilt, remorse, or self-hatred), I will find a new attitude. I will.
The good news is that I'm still exercising like some kinda exercise freak. My inner thighs are actually sore.
To add stress to gaining weight, I have an out of town guest coming to town on Thursday. I haven't seen her in probably 3 years. She is one of my two great loves since college (scroll down to see fate of other great love). I have gained about 20 pounds since she saw me last and I'm not looking forward to seeing her when I look, and feel, this way. It wouldn't be as big of deal as it is, except that she isn't the kind of person that doesn't care about things like an extra 20 pounds. Indeed, when we were together, she referred to herself as 'the thin one' and asked me if I was afraid of getting fat. So, yeah, obviously my great loves aren't really great at all, huh? This visit, then, is making me extra mad at myself for not getting my act together in time to lose a little more weight. Instead of gaining.
I know, I know. I'm feminist and queer. We aren't supposed to care about things like 20 extra pounds. But I do. I don't think that it's the weight itself that bothers me as much as my seemingly complete inability to lose it. Ultimately, I don't care how I look. But I do care that I can't seem to make a single healthy food choice over the course of 5 days. I do care that I fight every minute to make those healthy choices and still end up buying not one, but two, huge cupcakes. I do care that I carry around this negative funk that weighs me down so much more than the weight I've gained since I last posted.
It's what the scale can't measure that weighs the most.
Best I Can Do
The next couple days, okay weeks, will be tricky. I leave today for my folk's house. My father isn't doing so well. My mother has been taking care of him and needs a break. I'm the break. It's hard for me to see my dad struggle. It's impossible to find healthy food where my parents live. My mother and I have a tense, at best, relationship. My usual M.O. is to eat rebelliously. This time, I'm packing inspiration from
Kris and will call on a different kind of rebel. The kind of rebel that eats well and exercises despite it all.
I'm going armed with diversions, homework, papers to grade, magazines, phone numbers, and movies. I'm also going to use
Krista's tactic of getting out of the house, even if just for a trip to Target (okay, there isn't a Target out where the parents live, but there is a Wal-Mart.) I'm bringing my own food. And the attitude that served me well a couple weeks ago: so be it. If I want dessert, fine. If a martini is in order, pour away. Moderation, love, honesty. Best I can do.
If I can get to the public library, I will be able to check in (assuming of course, that the library who has worked there since the beginning of time isn't poking around).
I have a number of trips and out of town visitors and papers and exams that I'm also worried about. Not about the actual events, of course, but how they will affect my diet. Duh! But I guess I can't do anything about that now. Better to take this one trip in stride and deal with the rest as they come up. This trip will be the hardest.
Coming from, Going to
Weight: 165.
Okay. Where did that come from? I’m a couple days late on the weigh in (see previous posts for explanation!), but, hey, I’ll take it. One pound down with two days of horrific food choices works for me.
My posts have been so negative lately. Really, I have more good days than bad. Truthfully, I have made lots of positive changes. Like:
1. last night, for instance. I stopped at the grocery store for broccoli and carrots. They had vegan carrot cake cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. I looked at them with no interest, just thought, hmm, nifty vegan treat, maybe tomorrow. What I like about this moment: I connected with my body and I didn’t fall into the dieting deprivation trap that I always find myself in and that never fails to backfire.
2. Biceps: I have them! Actual, honest to god, muscles!
3. Pilates. Connecting with breathe, control, grace, and precision. Moving from center. I’m fascinated with the body when I practice pilates. Kind of trippy how every movement is somehow related to the core.
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Marla’s and
Kris’s recent posts really spoke to me. They don’t seem connected, but the points I took from each are to me.
Marla wrote about how changing her attitude about exercising made the workout that much more intense. I have to agree. I admit, I was going through the motions. I know what my body likes, and when and how it likes it. It likes to sweat and lift heavy things up and down. It like to breathe, it likes to dance. I gave it what it wanted, but without really throwing myself into it. When I first started working out, I gave the movements my complete concentration, for a couple reasons: I didn’t know what I was doing and had to pay a lot of attention so I wouldn’t end up with a dumbbell landing on my foot; I was really out of shape and had to monitor my heart and breathing so I didn’t kill myself. Plus, it took all the concentration I had just to keep myself motivated to finish the workout. Now my body is much more mechanic. I’m strong, so I’m not worried I will hurt myself. Running is like breathing, it just happens.
But then it just wasn’t the same anymore. I hadn’t increased my distance or pace in a long time. I hadn’t been sore in weeks. So I slowed down. I lifted with intention and concentration. Next morning: it hurt to lift my arm over my head. And I didn’t increase the weight I was lifting. While running, I focused on deliberate speed increases and decreases. I headed for the hills. The result: I’ve shaved some time off my standard loops.
I love this athletic side of me. I love pushing myself and enjoying my workouts. I want to be this athletic person forever! Problem: I don’t know, really, what it means to be healthy. I don’t know what a healthy relationship to food and exercise is.
This is where Kris’s post comes in! Kris wrote about how she can see herself as the person that she wants to be: fit and still able to enjoy some couch-sitting. I need a similar kind of image of myself. I have a sort of idea of how this revised me will behave: lots of exercise and movement; lots of veggies and breakfast, even when I don’t want to eat first thing in the morning. But there are a couple of things I’m not clear on: how does this person write papers? I’ve been writing and eating since high school. I was thin in high school and college. I’m not now. I don’t want to continue that behavior. But I don’t know what else to do. How will I handle emotional train wrecks? How do I balance life, food, and exercise?
Once I have these images in mind, the trick will be to act like that person I want to be. I’m sure I will come up with a million different oh-so-tragic excuses. Tragedy isn’t going anywhere. But my health will if I don’t protect it.
Sifting through the Rubble
First, thank you all for your lovely comments. I really needed them! And knowing you all are out there really helped! I hope that I didnt sound defensive in the last post. I wasn't and I'm not. I'm just trying to figure this out.
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Today I am back on track. Today I am ridiculously optimistic. Today I am actually proud of how quickly I pulled myself out of that funk.
I feel like I am in unchartered waters. I don't know what to expect from myself, life, or this diet. I know this behavior won't get the pounds off. I know this behavior will let me maintain. But I don't want to maintain! Not yet, anyway. And when I do maintain, I don't want it to be like this. I know I feel good about being honest with myself about these weaknesses. In a way, I even feel good about Saturday and Sunday. Because I was honest. Because that was as bad as it can get. And I survived. Saturday could have been worse. The booze was unnecessary, granted. Food was shaky. Sunday, however, was an old-fashioned train wreck of a day. But Monday I pulled myself out of it. Sunday: I didn't exercise. Fine, I didn't plan to. It was my first actual day off from sweat in a long time. I know I should take more of them. Or at least replace some heart pounding workouts with quiet walks and gentle yoga. Truth is, I'm kind of scared to not workout. How crazy is that? Exercise is the one thing about all these changes that I really dig, through thick and thin. I like to sweat no matter what my mood. I like to sweat when it's raining, snowing, and beautiful outside. I don't like all the food restrictions. So in my twisted little head, it's like if I don't exercise, the whole thing falls apart. I need to work on this, because my body simply can't keep up with daily strenuous workouts.
These past couple of days have scared me. I'm scared that I will regain all the weight I worked so hard to lose. I'm scared I will never lose the rest of what I want to lose. I'm scared it will always be this hard.
I'm not done losing. I'm not done fighting. Problem: I'm not sure what I'm fighting. Am I fighting a deep-seated emotional/mental issue? Or am I fighting to establish and maintain healthy habits. I thought it was the latter and that a healthy mindset and eased depression were the result of these new habits. My choices at this point: quick or continue. I choose to keep at it. Keep at it with more grace. Keep at it, humbled. Keep at it, slowly, with respect for myself.
Despite the train wreck, I managed to do two things that helped me enjoy my body this weekend. First, I gave my feet a pedicure. (thanks for the suggestion,
Kris!) Since pounding the pavement, my feet have gone downhill. I had no idea this happened to runners feet. They are sore, tired, calloused, bruised, and are developing really funky toenails. Giving them attention felt good, like I was taking care of myself and appreciating my body's capabilities (something I try to always do, especially in the midst of a bad run. I think: I'm grateful I can do this, no matter how difficult/boring/painful it might be). Second, I survived TOM without ibuprofen. Huge step for me. In the old days, I was plagued with horrible cramps and PMS. Now, TOM appears without a parade. Slips in undetected. I've been downing ibuprofen because I was scared not to. But I took the risk this weekend (fueled mostly by fears of painkiller safety) and the cramps were virtually non-existent. Even with the train wreck. I don't know if this is 'enjoying' my body. But I was in tune with my body and paying attention to it, which was the goal of the 'Enjoy' exercise anyway.
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To answer my own questions from yesterday:
1. Yes, I am making excuses. Habits are behavior. I can psychoanalyze myself all I want, but ultimately it's about what I DO that counts. I know myself pretty well. I'm nothing if not in my head too much. Time to ACT!
2. No, I'm not clinically compulsive. I might have compulsive tendencies. But those kick in once I get going. Binging is a consciousness, rational(ized) decision that I make.
3. Behavior does not equal diagnosis. Just like drinking Saturday doesn't make me an alcoholic, binging on Sunday does not give me a compulsive eating disorder.
4. Plan: I need to keep in mind the successful weekend I had a while ago in which acknowledging the desire to binge and giving myself permission to actually made me not want to.
Maybe I'm making this up to make myself feel better. But if delusion works, so be it. I feel capable of handling behavior change. I'm don't feel capable of taking on a clinical 'disorder'.
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There are a million other things I want to write about, like how much I liked recent posts by
Kris and
Marla and how much they got me thinking. Maybe tomorrow.
Compulsive or coping?
It hasn't been easy. It's not easy now. But I'm working on it. That's about all I can say at this point.
In my defense, it's been a stressful weekend. Oh stress, let me count thy ways:
1. Hi there, TOM.
2. Mom and perfect Sister, start your criticisms!
3. Stalker caught! And is being charged with multiple rapes.
4. Work, what work?
5. Love of my life is getting married. Not to me.
6. Guess who's organizing the wedding shower?
Or am I making excuses?
To answer Melissa's question, I got the questions in the previous post from a comment in
Such a Pretty Face. The Twelve Steps are
here. I'm still hesitant about this "compulsive overeating" deal. The first step, as OA outlines, is feeling "powerless" about food. And I don't feel powerless at all. Overeating or binging always feels like a decision. It's something that I do because it's a good coping technique. Honestly, it works. That's the problem. I feel better instantly. What I don't like are the side effect--weight gain, lethargy, feeling sick. To avoid the binge, I drank on Saturday. And now I wish I ate. OK, I wish I was one of those people that went on a hike and meditated, but I'm not. I don't hate myself because I do it. I know that it's a matter of establishing other ways of handling stress. Sounds soooo easy when I write it, heh? I get depressed and frustrated and unmotivated. Okay, there is self-loathing too, if I'm being really honest about it.
I don't think that my behavior is a "compulsion," in the clinical sense of the word. Furthermore, does this mean that all overweight people are "compulsive overeaters?" I got fat because I didn't exercise and I ate a lot of food. I lost weight because I started exercising and followed a diet. Now I have trouble following that diet. I recognize that this trouble comes from wanting to eat to soothe stress and sadness. But does this equal compulsion?
Prognosis
1. Do you eat when you're not hungry? Yep
2. Do you go on eating binges for no apparent reason? Oh, there are lots of reasons
3. Do you have feelings of guilt and remorse after overeating? Usually, no. Self-hatred and frustration, yes. But, oddly, not guilt or remorse. Overeating always feels like a controlled and logical decision, so I can't feel guilty about it.
4. Do you give too much time and thought to food? Define "too much"
5. Do you look forward with pleasure and anticipation to the time when you can eat alone? Not anymore. I used to.
6. Do you plan these secret binges ahead of time? No
7. Do you eat sensibly before others and make up for it alone? Not now, but I did.
8. Is your weight affecting the way you live your life? Not now, but it did.
9. Have you tried to diet for a week (or longer), only to fall short of your goal? Yes. But isn't a strictly defined goal recipe for trouble? I always have an "ideal" plan in mind. And then I have the realistic plan.
10. Do you resent others telling you to "use a little willpower" to stop overeating? No one has told me this. But if someone did, yes, this would bother me.
11. Despite evidence to the contrary, have you continued to assert that you can diet "on your own" whenever you wish? Yes, but what qualifies as "evidence to the contrary?" I'm struggling now, but I'm maintaining at the very least.
12. Do you crave to eat at a definite time, day or night, other than mealtime? no, pretty much all the time, anytime.
13. Do you eat to escape from worries or trouble? Is there another reason to eat?
14. Have you ever been treated for obesity or a food-related condition? No
15. Does your eating behavior make you or others unhappy? Yes, though I always wonder if it's the eating that makes me unhappy or if it's unhappiness that "makes" me eat.
Have you answered yes to three or more of these questions? If so, it is probable that you have or are well on your way to having a compulsive overeating problem. We have found that the way to arrest this progressive disease is to practice the Twelve-Step recovery program of Overeaters Anonymous.
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The results of this "test" came as a surprise. I think of myself as an "emotional eater" and a "stress-eater" but not a "compulsive overeater." The latter sounds unnecessarily clinical and diagnostic whereas the previous two sound like normal struggles. Is my response a defense mechanism?
Inspiration Zero
Warning: this post will be dark. Warning: this post will be dismal. Warning: Handle with care, the writer is fragile.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Says the pessimistic, frustrated, depressed me:
Arrrgggghhhh. Ugh. Yuck. Sigh. Moan. Blech. Blah. I don't wanna. I don't care. It's not worth it. I hate it. I want to eat what I want, when I want, how I want. I don't want to run. I don't want to lift weights or do pilates or breathe slowly and mindfully. I feel fat and ugly so none of these efforts are working anyway. I've GAINED weight. My jeans are too tight. My mother thinks I'm either a size 8 or XXL. I'll never lose the weight. I'll always be fighting. It will never be easy.
How am I supposed to fight internal dialogue like this? And why is it so much stronger than the optimistic, loving voice? (I know it's in there somewhere).
Sorry for the downer. I have to honest with myself if I am gonna get anywhere.
I ran, lifted weights, and ate a good breakfast. And I still feel like this. I don't want to surrender. I don't know what I'm surrending to. Eating won't help. Won't help! But the pull to cry, turn off the lights, put in a movie, and land in a pile of chocolate covered pretzels is strong. Maybe I can do all of the above minus the binge? I don't think that I can. Nothing happened, everything is fine. I just want to give up. I think it's all connected to feeling bad about the way that I look and feeling powerless to change it. I know that these feelings aren't based on anything real. I have to keep telling myself. Keep telling myself till I believe it. Keep telling myself till a healthy self-image and optimism boil down and simmer into my soil.
A little madness
I keep driving. I don't stop. It crosses my mind. My day has been hard. I feel drained, challenged, unloved, and ever so misunderstood. I'm new to town, school, and the job. But I keep driving. I go home, put on pajamas, and make tea. In other words, I don't binge.
I want to take a moment and acknowledge an important change I made in the hopes that acknowledging positive changes will inspire me to continue making them. I've been struggling with binging during the paper writing sprees. I tell myself that I "need" to overeat. That the constant activity of hand to mouth will keep me focused and energized. That I work hard and deserve it. That there is no way I can write if my mouth isn't moving. I've been writing this way for years. For so long that it feels hard wired. And now I want to stop.
Eating doesn't help me write. Eating is a distraction and a form of procrastination. I'm really good at finding ways to procrastinate, so I am sure I can find substitutes. I want to keep writing for the rest of my life. But the writing will stop if I am depressed. The writing will stop if I make myself sick. I know that I am not the only person who struggles with muse demons. My smoker writer friends tell me that they chain smoke through writing weekends. Perhaps writing needs a little madness: it needs a focus so intense that the world drops away and brain waves morph to it's twists and turns. A little madness never hurt anybody. I don't want to be the kind of writer that wakes up at 7 and writes from 9-5. I don't work that way. I need flashes of insight that only come with sleep deprivation. But I want to stop the hold that food has on me when I write. Honestly, I think I eat when I write because I question my ability as a writer and thinker. I don't think that I deserve a place in this graduate program. I don't think my ideas are right, interesting, or well-thought out. And if I do manage a semi-coherent thought, I don't think I express it well. Low self-esteem, you ask? Working on it.
So, that is the problem. I used to come home after teaching and eat the sweets till I felt "better." But I changed that. It was hard at first, but now I don't even think about eating to fix my insecurity in the classroom. As I write that, I can't believe that I ever thought of eating as a solution! But I do. I changed before, I can change again. No plan of action yet. I'll come up with one soon.
Enjoy
New goal: Do one thing each week that allows me to enjoy my body. This thing should not be connected to expending calories. Sex does not count.
I did this when I first started losing weight this fall. It was an important part of making significant changes in my life. It was time to reflect, recharge, refocus, and appreciate all the good stuff happening. I stopped doing this when the weight started really coming off and sticking to my exercise and food plans were no longer that difficult.
It's difficult again. Not the exercise, of course. I am now addicted to sweat and endorphins and all that good stuff. But I worry that I use the exercise as an excuse for emotional eating. Because I can "afford" the extra calories, and I'm stressed anyway, let's have the cupcake instead of nutritionally dense food. I'm not done making changes and I'm worried that I'm losing ground that was once firm. Time to sandbag.
This is not to say that I've fallen off the wagon. Indeed, the past couple days have been really great. I've eaten well and exercised hard. But I'm still eating too much. And the too much is sometimes because I'm hungry, which is great, but also because I'm stressed or lonely or bored, which is problematic. (Just to be clear, the previously mentioned cashews are STILL in the house. STILL!) So things aren't bad by any stretch of the imagination. But the urge to binge is still strong. And this is my way of figuring it out.
Possible activities include: spending time outside, riding my bike along the river with no hands, dancing all night, practicing yoga, taking a bath, getting a massage, Tai-Chi, and trying any new dance class. This is all I can think of now. Any ideas?
Measure of success
My mother is coming to visit this weekend. My mother and my very tiny, thin, petite sister are coming to visit this weekend. And I'm stressed because I've gained some weight since they last saw me. Mom never comments on my weight, mind you. Oh no, we are way too waspy to say what we mean. Instead, she comments on my weight in under the table ways. By buying me clothes that are too small. (I am so clearly NOT an 8 but that's what she buys me.) By saying "you look great!" when I started losing weight. And saying "you look healthy" when I was gaining weight. I wish I didn't care what my mother thought. But, oh, how I do. Her approval and happiness are very important to me. I know that she sacrificed to get me where I am today. I know she wants me to be happy and healthy, which somehow translates to THIN. (My sister embodies all these things. But that's another post.) I want to live up to my mother's expectations. I want to make her proud. I don't want to take for granted the opportunities available to me that weren't available to her. But why does this all teeter on how much I weigh?
My measure of success could come from so many other places. I'm financially stable. I'm in a competitive, male-dominated academic discipline. I have great friends. I'm involved in the community. I work hard. I play hard. Why should it matter that I also have a hard time losing these last 25 pounds? It shouldn't. But it does.
Wore the fat pants last night with pride. They usually aren't such a problem, but the baby tee exposed the necessary roll-up around the waist. I used a belt instead. Chocolate fondue was so good. I won't get into it here because there could be some unpleasant food worshipping but I will say this: dark chocolate, french bread, red wine, and expresso. Yeah.
Weight: 166. I'll change the profile when I get below 165. I'm too lazy to keep updating it. Day off running. Kickboxing instead. Also did Thai-Chi for the first time. Will probably walk this afternoon. To further confuse myself about me and food: there is bread in my kitchen now. White Bread. And candied ginger. And cashews. They were there all night and all morning. And I haven't eaten them yet. I haven't eaten them yet? These are trigger foods for me. This feeling rocks and is another one of my goals in this weight loss journey thing I'm on: have these foods around without eating them all in one sitting or throwing them out or giving them away. I probably will give away the ginger, because I don't need the extra sugar. But knowing that it is there and that I am not going crazy is pretty cool.
Nary a treat
Nary a treat in site? Yes, my friends. Believe it or not. I, frankly, am still in disbelief. Ate entirely on plan yesterday. After giving myself permission to not eat on plan. Huh? This is not the Liz I know. The Liz I know would have gone bonkers with that kind of license to eat. But instead giving myself permission right from the start translated to a much more relaxed attitude about food. I ate when I was hungry. I ate what I was hungry for. I didn't go on a walk, but no biggie there. The walks are to clear my head. And my head, oddly, did not need clearing. I'm as confused as the next person about what's going on here. Calories were probably on the high side, but they are always on the high side, so no surprises there. And the calories came from healthy, nutrionally dense, good foods.
Went on an incredible run this morning. Long stride, long run. Along the river. Sun shining. Cold. Felt so incredible to breathe hard and run hard and stretch my legs. Fabulous pilates session followed.
I should not be allowed to dress myself any more. I am currently wearing my fat jeans, which are huge and look like clown pants and have to be rolled up at the waist, a green tie-dyed baby tee, and a beautiful old beaded cardigan. None of the things should be paired together. But I feel caught in my clothes. I've lost too much weight to really wear the fat clothes comfortably. But I don't know what else to wear. My skinny jeans are too tight. I don't feel comfortable wearing tight clothes and would rather swim around in huge pants and t-shirts, but I look silly and even bigger than I really am when I wear stuff like that. I should say something like the real treat will be wearing the skinny jeans again. But I don't believe that, skinny jeans aren't enough right now. The real treat will be running because I'm an athlete, not because I want to lose weight. The real treat will be practicing pilates because I dance, not because I want to lose weight.
Not Quite as Cute
Blogger! I had the best post ever. Ever! And you ate it. Let's get our jobs straight here. I eat. You publish snippets about what I eat.
Last night as I was licking chocolate off my fingers I surfed the Weight Watchers website looking for a meeting in my area. I am officially a cliche. I need to figure out what's going on with me and the stress and emotional eating. It's a problematic relationship. Time to get out! But not this weekend. This weekend I have way too much work. And if I am going to finish it I can't stress out about what I'm (not) eating. Plan: eat well, exercise regularly, don't stress about occational treat. Deal? Deal. I want to figure this out. I want to establish new coping techniques. But not right now. Don't I need some buffer time to establish these new habits? Oh, is that what the last 4 months have been? I'm making excuses to eat junk food. I know. I need to find a way out. But I don't have time now!
I'm super sore from yesterday's kickboxing workout. Fun! Had a great run this morning. Nice weight lifting session. Will walk later today.
Cute someone showed up on my doorstep last night, drunk. Wanted to come in and make sure I was ok. Offered to stay the night for "protection." Cute someone is no longer quite as cute.
Priorities
Re-prioritizing why I am eating well and exercising really helped me focus and stay on track yesterday. Losing the extra weight is nice, but it really isn't enough to keep me motivated right now. Does that make me a bad person? Does that mean I don't really want it enough to make it happen? I dunno. But I'm taking a hint from
Kris's post yesterday at More or Less: and going on faith. I don't know if focusing on the mental and emotional health rewards of eating well and exercising will help me lose another 20 pounds. But I have faith that if I continue to eat well and exercise that my mental health will become more stable. And if my mental health becomes more stable my life will improve. And if my life improves, honestly, I really don't care about the extra 20 pounds. Jeez, that was hard to write. I'm supposed to care about not having a perfect body, right? I've put so much energy into loathing the way that I look for way too long. But, right now, it doesn't matter to me. Dealing with this stalker guy woke me up and made me realize that what is really important is the world around me. Giving time and energy to my community. Fostering friendships. Spending time with my neighbors. Keeping myself safe.
This could, of course, all change in in 3 seconds. I want to continue losing weight. But most of all I want to keep myself healthy and happy. I want to kick the emotional eating. I want to continue enjoying food and life and friends. I want to run faster. I want to lift harder. I want to dance more gracefully. I also want to spend days at my desk reading, writing, and thinking.
Yesterday I ran, lifted, and walked around town with a very cute someone. Ladies, big plus of dealing with threatening men on your doorstep: really cute single someones come out of the woodwork for you. Yesterday I ate well. Calories probably on the high side. Lunch out, drinks, and probably too much almond butter after dinner. I'm still not journaling food. I'm thinking about buying fitday to download onto my computer. I find the online version really slow and tedeous. Today I did a kickboxing dvd I haven't done since losing weight. It was so much easier. I did exercises I couldn't do before. Pretty cool.
Proof is in the article. They say that even a 10 minute walk can help mental health. I don't know if this is true for me. I think I need the heart pounding cardio.
A snippet from msn.com:If you have depression or anxiety, you might find your doctor prescribing a regular dose of exercise in addition to medication or talk therapy.
"There's substantial evidence that exercise can enhance mood and reduce symptoms of depression," says Kristin Vickers-Douglas, Ph.D., a psychologist at Mayo Clinic, Rochester, Minn. "It's not a magic bullet, but increasing physical activity is a positive and active strategy to help manage depression."
....
Before you think, "Yeah, right," and move on, consider this: Exercise doesn't have to come in large doses to offer psychological benefits. Even as little as 10 minutes of low-intensity walking helps. Your goal doesn't have to be losing 20 pounds, being able to run five miles nonstop or hitting the gym at 6 a.m. three days a week for a sweat-drenched workout.
Rather, the idea is to do something active in order to trigger the mechanisms that reduce negative moods and improve positive moods. And with a little planning and some practical tips — after all, it's not a matter of sheer willpower — adding exercise to your treatment program won't seem so daunting, even if you experience severe symptoms of depression or anxiety.
Despite ongoing research, just how exercise reduces symptoms isn't clear. There are plenty of theories, though, about both the physiological and psychological pathways that can improve symptoms related to depression and anxiety disorders, including sadness, anxiety, stress, fatigue, anger, self-doubt and hopelessness.
One of the physiological mechanisms that may be at work is an increase in levels of certain mood-enhancing neurotransmitters in the brain. In addition, exercise may boost feel-good endorphins, release tension in muscles, diminish sleep abnormalities, reduce levels of the stress hormone cortisol and even increase body temperature, which has calming effects.
Care
Things are ok in the "bad part of town." I have filed police reports, the landlord is installing a security system, friends are rallying around me, and I have stopped blaming myself. I'm still a little spooked. He came back again last night. Not very late, though. I am not going to let this drastically change my life. I will take more precautions. I will stop talking to strangers. But I will not stop working at the shelter. I will not stop treating everyone, even homeless crackheads, like human beings. I will not stop fighting for a woman's right to live alone where she pleases. I will not stop demanding that I be allowed to walk from my car to my house without fear and harassment. My eating was not fabulous yesterday. I spent most of the afternoon in the police station so I didn't get lunch. I'll leave it up to your imagination what happened next. But, you know what? It's ok, it really is. Eating junk made me feel better. Maybe it shouldn't. The trick is that one night of junk now can't translate to 2 months of junk. This morning, then, I woke up and ran. Today I will eat well. I will continue to eat well. The reward: Sunday night is a girls night in with some wonderful friends. The featured event: chocolate fondue and expresso. I've been stressing over this night for no reason. I intend to eat well for the next couple of days, enjoy that night, and then go right back to eating well. Because a long term plan of eating well must include chocolate fondue and expresso with the girls.
Taking a cue from JuJu's post at the Skinny Daily,
I want to eat well and exercise because I want to:
look good 8
move easier 10
enjoy my body 10
stop feeling like a failure 10
like myself 10
fight depression 10+
regain mental health 10+
stop the heart palpitations 10+
sleep better 4
have more energy 7
get more work done 9
have better focus 8
stop apologizing for myself 10
learn how to solve my problems 10
not hide from the world 8
not hide from old friends 8
have better sex 4
make my mom proud 2
make myself proud 10
stop hiding from problems 10
live the life I imagine myself living 10
tackle real issues 9
stop worrying about how I look 6
stop spending extra money on junk food 3
feed and nourish and take care of myself 8
sculpt the healthiest life possible 8
never have heat rash between my legs again 2
run another marathon 8
Making this list was important for me. The vanity of looking good, while obviously important, isn't nearly as significant to me as managing my mental health without drugs. One of the most essential ways that I can maintain good mental health is by eating good foods and getting regular exercise. End of story. I can't think of anything more important to me right now than this, especially with the scary stuff happening around my house.
Fear and Eating in the "Bad Part of Town"
My first thought: it's ok. Just go to the store and get lots of treats and everything will be fine.
See, when I first moved to this city, a guy followed me home one night. I'm not naive, by any stretch of the imagination. I've seen, heard of, and experienced really horrible and dark things. I've lived in cities for years now. I thought I knew how to take care of myself. Turns out, I don't. I make an effort to talk to people around me. I fight against urban apathy. I know my neighbors. I know the homeless people around this area. I give money and time to a shelter. But I also lend an ear and conversation. I go out of my way to humanize what I have been taught to fear: poverty, difference, and strange men. Not very PC, I know. But I do fight an ingrained fear or ignorance or something towards "scary" or "bad" parts of town and people. I actively work on combating my racism and classism. To do this, I take what other women my age, race, and class consider "risks" by talking to strange men on the streets. Until I moved here. This is a rough town. Rougher than DC. Rougher than NE DC where I lived for a couple years.
Anyway, I talked to some guy on the street that was trying to get my attention. I figured it was better to treat him with the dignity and respect that everyone deserves and talk to him. Turns out that this was a very bad idea. He followed me home. He knocked on my door throughout the night. I was terrified, of course, and hid under my covers. I didn't call the police because I want to be respectful of my neighbors. I'm aware that I'm a gentrifier. And whereas the police might make me feel safe, they make my neighbors very uneasy. Plus, I know this is wrong, but I figured that I somehow deserved his behavior. I have no right to live in this part of town. I have no right being out by myself at night talking to strange men. I'm a bad person that men prey upon. Yikes, did I say that? Indeed, I did. Honestly, this is what goes through my head. Back to the guy, he came around occasionally for a while, then stopped. I gave him some money once to get him to leave me alone. Didn't work.
Then months passed without any sign of him. I breathed easy. I moved more freely.
And now he's back again. It's been going on for weeks. Him pounding on my door. I've ignored it (see aforementioned "I brought this on myself" reasons). Until last night. Last night he pounded on my door at 4:30. I was PISSED. I went downstairs and told him to leave me alone, that I was calling the police. He didn't stop. I called. He heard me call and left. I told the 911 guy that he left and the 911 guy said that he wouldn't send the police because he is gone.
Of course, I couldn't go back to sleep. When it came time for my usual morning run, I was scared to leave the house. My first thought was that I shouldn't run. I should eat. Take care of myself. Eating will make it all better. Eating will erase the fear that I live with. Eating will erase the violence I experienced as a kid that makes me rationalize this man's behavior and causes me to think that I deserve it. Eating will make it ok that I didn't demand that the police come and file a report.
I don't know what to do. I can't tell my mother, she will worry. I can't call my friends, it's too early. Plan: I will call them later today. Maybe not sleep here tonight. Maybe I should go to the police office and see what I should do. I don't like calling 911. And what's up with the neighbors that I've tried to befriend? Why didn't any of them help? I know they heard, our walls are like paper. I've opened my door to help women on the streets. I've gotten in the middle of domestic disputes several times on this street.
Oh, yeah, I did run. Ice made it tough and slow, but I ran. And I ate well yesterday. Weight has evened out. Whatever.
I am convinced
'Round 165 this morning. Dunno why. This is one reason why I stopped weighing myself. Random inconsistency. I won't take a change in numbers till this time next week, but I will continue to hop on the scale every morning. At least until I get back in control of the overeating. Notice how I say back in control without any irony or self-doubt?
Speaking of irony and self-doubt, yesterday was ok. Not horrible. But also not really a "diet" day. Somehow I found myself in the library and very hungry. I didn't have lunch. The library, for better or worse, is right across the street from Whole Foods. So I....wait for it....went to Whole foods and proceeded to eat too much trail mix, and "energy chunks." I know. Energy chunks? They are good, filling, and make me feel healthy. Back off, ok? I should have just gotten a salad or sushi or something. But somehow eating trail mix and energy chunks made me feel like I was only having a "snack" instead of a meal. I need to not be afraid of eating lunch. I would have saved money and calories if I brought lunch with me. So, today, lunch is made and ready to eat. All tupperwared and ready to go. My lunch phobia came about because I often skipped lunch when I first started losing weight. Bad, I know. But I really wasn't hungry for it and would usually just graze on veggies throughout the day. But that doesn't work any more. I am hungry. And hunger is a good thing. Hunger is a sign that my metabolism is up and running. And feeding my body regularly will make it run better. All these things I know. Yet somehow I feel guilty when I get hungry at lunch time. So I buy trail mix and energy chunks instead of real food.
Oh and while I was there I also got some.....yep, you guessed it, chocolate covered pretzels and a huge vegan cookie. Eh. Regardless, I wrote it all down. Accomplishment. Double regardless, I got oodles of work done. Nothing short of a miracle.
Ever the optimist, I am convinced that today will be great.
D-Day
170. Maybe a smidge under. But, nonetheless, 170. There you go.
I can' attribute this gain to water weight or TOM or anything interesting or sexy. It's just a plain old regular 10 lb gain. It is also a great wake-up call: time to get back on track.
I know I can do this. I know I can refocus and start writing down what I eat and what exercise I get.
Sometimes this struggle and focus on my weight feels incredibly self-centered and shallow. Indeed, sometimes it is. But my weight is a direct mirror of my mental health. My weight has gone up because I'm not handling my life well. Because I am too stressed and sad. Controlling stress and sadness then has a direct relation to controlling my weight. And vice versa. This week, then, is all about moderation and accountability. I will journal. I will journal feelings and food. I will set goals and meet them. I will work to keep my head above the waters of depression and therefore work to keep my head above the waters of binging. This week is Spring break, which is good and bad. I have a hell of a lot of work to do so its not really a break at all. Today, the game plan is to read at home in the morning, read in a coffee shop in the afternoon. Do yoga in the evening. Maybe go back to coffee shop after dinner. I can do this. I can change. It is just a matter of (re)introducing "new" habits. I made much larger changes mere months ago. I did that, I can do this. And making these changes does not mean that I can never have chocolate covered pretzels again. I am a firm believer in free days.
So it turns out I haven't lost 30 lbs, like I tell myself. I've lost 20. And have 25 to go. Putting it that way sounds incredibly depressing. So I will focus on the small losses, which worked for me last time. The next goal is 10. Reaching 160 will be a major accomplishment and one to be celebrated.
Starting here
I went to DC this weekend and saw some folks I haven't seen in too long and they all commented on how "good" I looked (aka: it looks like I have lost weight). People commenting on my weight bothers me. Am I the only one? I know that it is supposed to be encouraging and motivating. But mostly it just grosses me out and makes me wonder if they notice every pound gained and lost. Exactly how much attention do people pay to my body anyway? Plus, would they say something if I gained weight?
I haven't updated in a while. Mostly because I've been busy. Really because I'm not entirely on program. It's like I can't decide if this is a "good" week or not. Thursday and Friday were nosedives. I actually drove to a convenience store Thursday and bought junk food to binge on when I wasn't hungry. Umm...Liz...calling Liz...time to check in, my dear. Most days are on par but still with me eating more than I need to. I catch myself. I tell myself I'm eating even though I'm not really hungry. I tell myself that overeating is a decision. Then I decide to do it. Eh, I guess it is what it is. I'm still exercising, for the most part. And still eating veggies, which keeps my body happy. Just with a lot of sugar after meals. This weekend was "good," especially considering that I was away.
I haven't gotten on the scale in over a month. This is NOT good. It's like I'm afraid that if I step on the scale I will be sucked into a strange dieting vortex. I need to see where I stand with the numbers. I know that. I'm just scared out of my mind about getting a number. Because a number will hold me accountable. My jeans hold me accountable to a certain existent. But there is more wiggle room with jeans. Especially when they haven't been washed in a while and all are stretched out.
I haven't posted my weight on this blog because I don't like seeing other people's weight on their blogs. I always start questioning myself and my progress and my goal. Especially when everyone else in the weight loss blogging world seems to make way more progress than me and have a much lower goal weight. But maybe putting numbers up will give me a n accountability that I need? Ultimately, accountability is to myself. I am my own worst critic (working on this, really). But maybe staring at those numbers will encourage me to focus more attention on the rest of the weight I have left to lose?
So, then, I will weigh in. Tomorrow morning following my walk.
Random notes: Mazzy Star rocks. Vitasoy Complete does NOT. I will take the creamy goodness and extra 20 calories of Vitasoy regular anyday.
No Numbers
I did the thing that has had me by the throat--er--gut--for 2.5 years. And it has made me feel more empty and sad and lonely than ever, ever, before. Isawher. I saw her. I. Saw. Her. Jesus, right? I have been hiding from her forever. And we slipped into being friends again like nothing had happened even though everything had happened and I regret it all. I regret these last 2 years and I regret what happened so many summers ago. Too many summers ago that are so many that I can't count them anymore because I am so tired of counting time since that summer and I am so tired of regretting that summer and I am so tired of wanting someone I lost so so long ago. Wanting someone whom I want so badly and think of so often that seeing her again was like no big deal was like getting together at a restaurant that I choose like it was any Sat like we eat together every day because that is how often I think of her.
Now it is Tuesday. Now it is the first day since Sat that I have really let myself think about Sat because Sat was crushing.
With her, I don't forget I have eyelids because with her eyes always open and close like patterns of sun through the blinds on a day so bright that I can't see.
And the day was perfect. It was everything I thought it could never be. It was perfect except that I smoked and she hates smoke. It was perfect except that I drank and she hates when I drink. I drank quickly. Quietly. Secretly.
Should I confess it all? Should I swallow it back? Even though nails aren't meant to be swallowed?
She talked about The Other for no reason. She talked about how The Other isn't smart. But warm. She wants warm, not smart. She talked with new eyes that I didn't recognize. She talked with a tongue so furry that I thought it was a wild animal ready to pounce. She talked but I don't remember what she talked about because I was busy imagining what it would be like to kiss her. What is must be like to fall asleep with her.
Once again she disrupts my world and shakes me up and once again she isn't here to help me pick up the pieces.
But even if The Other left there could not be Us. And I know why.
I miss her. Today I ran. Today I lifted. Today I read. Today I ate well.
See what I mean? This is so not about the numbers.
