Let them eat mold!

People like me are the exact reason I decided not to become an R.D. I did not want to spend my days encouraging, begging, demanding that people follow a certain diet or restrict certain food/drinks, etc., because many people just love their food.


I may have mentioned that I tested positive for mold allergy; I went to the allergist wondering if I had a wheat allergy, because I would literally not be able to stay awake after eating bread. Turns out, mold/yeast/fermented foods are the culprit. At the time, the allergist said, "If you want to keep eating moldy food, I can give you shots ..." and I was like, no that's okay. I can live without the things you have on your list to avoid. 


What I discovered is that there are lots of moldy foods out there that really don't bother people without a sensitivity or allergy. Like grapes ... I never knew that the powdery stuff on grape skin is mold. I never knew that tea is moldy, though I knew it made me sickish to drink it. Fermented/cultured foods include things like soy sauce, vinegar, yogurt, sour dough, buttermilk, etc. Moldy foods include certain cheeses.


So, I went on my merry way, not really having much reaction other than the occasional sick to my stomach feeling or having to fall asleep on the couch after eating something like pizza.


Well, a few weeks ago, I ate some delicious grapes at work, and within five minutes, my tongue felt electric, and my face was hot, and my lips were tingling. I mentioned it to a coworker, and she said that it was an allergic reaction. That's when I remembered my beloved grapes were on the moldy list.


The following day I ate a banana. I've been known to get very sleepy after eating overripe fruit, but this was a perfectly ripe banana. Or so I thought. Within minutes, again, tingling and flush. What the heck?


So, I did some research on food mold allergy. The list I found of foods to avoid is staggering. Ready for this?

Mold allergy:

• Cheese
• Mushrooms
• Foods made with yeast (pizza dough, bread, etc.)
• Sour cream
• Buttermilk
• Beer, wine, liquor
• Potatoes
• Soy Sauce
• Vinegar and foods containing vinegar, such as salad dressing, ketchup, mustard and pickles
• Sauerkraut
• Nuts
• Pickled or smoked meats and fish
• Dried fruits (apricots, figs, raisins)
• Raw vegetables
• Raw fruits, particularly blackberries, blueberries, grapes, strawberries
• Aged meats: Hot dogs, sausages
• Canned fruits
• Canned or bottled juices
• Cider
• Citric acid
• Barley malt
• MSG
• Ginger ale, root beer
• Jams/jellies
• Lactic acid
• Malt
• Black tea
• Malted barley flour
• Olives
• Peanuts and peanut products
• Preserved or pickled foods
• Yeast extract
• Mayonnaise
• Horseradish
• Worcestershire sauce
• Melons, particularly cantaloupes
• Oranges
• Cream cheese
• Ricotta cheese
• Ice cream
• Milk

What the? What's left?

So, I've had this goal of avoiding anything moldly or fermented or whatever so I can test out this tingling tongue thing. But I never do it. It's that old thing of as soon as you can't have it, you want it more.

Actually, I don't want it MORE. I just want what I want when I want it. I don't want to be restricted. I'm not even talking about overeating or emotional eating. Or dieting to lose weight. I just mean every day eating.

I was watching a show on Food Network the other day, and Alex Guarnaschelli was on it talking about a sandwich she loved, and I was actually pissed off at her for being able to eat whatever she wanted.

I've been in pure rebellion mode this week. I've eaten cheese, ketchup, bread, buns, mayonnaise, ice cream, hotdogs, sausage ... you name it. I ate raw apples and bananas, but didn't buy grapes - the reaction I had was just too uncomfortable. And all week long, I've been tingling and flushed. It's annoying. 

I did restart my anxiety med (Cymbalta), which for me acts as an appetite killer. I was simply hoping that it would help me with any hidden general anxiety that leads me to emotionally eat. I must say, it really cut down my eating in general, made me more in tune to being full. I stopped eating after half a sandwich! I left almost an entire serving of fries on my plate! I took three bites of a dessert and left the rest behind! I had a bag of peanut M&Ms in my desk for over a week! Who am I? What I like about it is it just made me feel normal.

This week, I'm dealing with pre-menstrual cravings. Never fails, each month, I have this day where I'm like, "Why the hell do I feel like pouring the entire sugar bowl down my throat?" One look at the calendar reminds me. (And those M&Ms I mentioned earlier? Gone.)

But seriously, I do want to talk to the doctor about these reactions, but I want to walk in and say, I've avoided this or that and this is what happened. If I go in now, won't he just say, "Avoid those foods and see what happens?" I just need to buckle down and make a list of what I CAN eat, and try to stick with it. Because really, it is annoying having my mouth feel electric and my face be red and warm all the time. I fear, since coffee grounds can get moldy, that I'll need to give up my beloved coffee AGAIN!!! Wah!

Wish me luck.

Surgery: results, consequences and reality

Well ... how about that.

What I was absolutely certain was causing my pain and discomfort isn't. 

It's rather strange to hear that nothing is wrong and feel disappointed and confused. But after awhile, I thwapped myself on the forehead and said, "You idiot. You're healthy. No more surgeries. No scary bad news. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Obviously, I'm glad that there's nothing wrong. The disappointment came because I thought I finally had answers with a definitive treatment on the horizon.

The possible new diagnosis is IBS. After reading up about it, the symptoms make sense. And some symptoms were similar to endometriosis, which is what my doc and I thought we were up against. Since my symptoms got so much worse just before and during "that time of the month," I assumed it was all gyn related.

But now I realize - duh - I crave sweets and fattening treats during that time, so possibly my symptoms were worse because I was indulging in (such a nice way of saying "pigging out on") those types of foods.

I still need to read more about IBS ... from what I've read so far, some experts think this, some think that. Is it really what you eat that triggers problems? Or is it a dysfunction of the intestines? Or is it hormonal? One of my coworkers mentioned a link to fibromyalgia, which I have, so is it all a misfiring of nerves in the muscle? It's all very frustrating. And throwing my mold allergy into the mix ... I enjoyed grapes for an afternoon snack today, and spent the rest of my workday completely flushed - an allergic reaction. Did you know that grapes are very moldy? And I'd better have a bed or at the very least a couch nearby if I decide to eat bread. Snoozeville.

So, I spent a couple days whining and complaining to my good friend SETD'A (how do you like those intials?) and my mom ... but now I'm like, "Shut the H-E-double-hockey-sticks up." If the worse thing that happens to me is I get some cramping and diarrhea after eating certain foods or during certain days, or if I have to avoid certain foods because I have MINOR allergic discomfort, then I need to count myself among the truly blessed.

The lazy-ass part of me doesn't want to have to do all the work to figure out what I can eat and what I can't. The immature, compulsive side of me that is addicted to food wants to eat what I want when I want - consequences be damned.

But, obviously, you can't abuse your body and expect it to continue to work at 100%. Whether it's food, drugs, alcohol, over-exercising, overworking ... something's gonna give.

So ... I'm back where I started. Trying to eat right, overcome overeating, make healthy food choices. Listen to my body, and respect what it needs and what it's telling me.

Wow ... a month later

Well, it's been awhile. Can't say it's been all good since I've been away.

I've been dealing with some health issues, lately ... oh, and HOW am I dealing with those health issues and the bits of anxiety that tend to pop up, not only about my health and what may be wrong, but also about the financial aspect of having tests and surgeries and what not?

I'm eating.

Yep, that good ol' reliever of all things stressful. Sweet carbs. Sigh.

It's so stupid. I'm dealing with HEALTH issues, so wouldn't it make sense to treat my body as good as I possibly can by giving it healthy foods in healthy amounts?

Yes, it would. But emotional eating works by emotion, not sense, remember?  I'm getting comfort from the feeling of fullness, by the simple carbs, by the sweet taste. It all allows me to put off thinking about anything truly scary or stressful. BUT, the catch is that eating this way also ends up causing stress because I gain weight, adding to an already overloaded system of worry. An endless loop of insanity.

I'm sure I've gained, though I haven't measured or weighed myself lately. One of the symptoms I'm dealing with is bloating, so my tummy area is bigger anyway, but I'm sure my carb feasts are adding to it.

I remember Oprah saying once a long time ago as she talked about her ongoing battle with food that, never mind wanting to impress other people or get their praise or kudos ... she just wanted to be proud of herself. That's so true. At the end of the day, literally, I want to feel proud of myself for strength and discipline and self-control. Not disappointed and sick to my stomach.

It seems like I almost have to be on my own case all day long ... but then I think, how would a kid feel if all day long, someone was on his/her case? Drained, defeated, worthless, rebellious.

Encouragement. Belief in oneself. Self-worth. Prayer. And unconditional love. Those are the ingredients for overcoming. 

I'm hooked on the latest Jane Green that I picked up from the library, called Jemima J, which is about an overeater. I've been hooked, not only by the girl's story, but also by the writing style, which is incredibly different and intriguing. A bit of a spoiler coming, though I haven't finished the book yet ... she ends up losing a ton of weight, and reading about how she can shop carefree for new clothes and the attention she gets and how she feels about herself and how she can't imagine going back to the way she was, etc., it fills with both inspiration and envy. With determination and defeat. With hope and hopelessness. There's like this little battle within me - like the devil and angel on the shoulder thing. There's this run-on sentence in my head as I think, "Oh, that would be so great, such a nice way to live, I could totally do that, I could exercise every day and diet, and that could be me, but I'll never achieve that, I can't do that, I'm a complete failure at eating right, I'll never experience living like that ..." It's weird. As I'm reading the book, I'm feeling the emotions on each end of the spectrum, and while I'm happy for Jemima, I'm also sad for myself.

And I think I'm also feeling like a failure because I haven't worked on my manuscript in months.

Finishing my manuscript and losing weight are the two huge accomplishments I've wanted to achieve for, like, forever, but I'm finding myself so overwhelmed by each of them that I'm doing neither of them.

One thing at a time.

I just need to give myself a break.

An update ...

I forgot that yesterday was supposed to be my measure day, so I did it this morning ... I've lost another 1/2 inch on my bust, one inch on my waist, and 1/2 inch in the hips. Not too bad, considering I ate fattening and sugary food throughout the day on Tuesday.

I didn't weigh myself, not sure why. Probably because of the pigout day I had, not to mention I'm entering the PMS stage, which means BLOAT CITY.

I was chatting with my BFF Steph this morning, who, by the way, is svelte and gorgeous and has about the cutest baby daughter I've ever seen (besides my own, of course), and she mentioned a conversation she had with her sis wherein the topic was being able to eat whatever without repercussions.

I see the phrase "I eat whatever I want" occasionally in interviews with slim celebrities and what not, and not only is it a grating comment, but it's also misleading to those of us who eat emotionally or compulsively. We gnash our teeth and tear at our clothes because So-and-So is able to remain a size 2 while eating anything she wants, but the truth is, she probably doesn't WANT to eat a dozen Double Stuf Oreos at a time, or several scoops of butter pecan ice cream (is that an "old person's" ice cream? Once when I mentioned it was one of my faves, an acquaintance asked me if I was 80.), or half a pepperoni pizza, or a cheeseburger and large fries, or an indulgent dessert after a sizeable meal, etc. What I want to eat and what a normal eater wants to eat are entirely different things - hence the weight difference.

So what I've got to want is to eat foods that will get me closer to those smaller jeans AND not feel deprived while eating them. Tall order.

Though the one thing I have going for me is that I do enjoy working out. And I also tend to just automatically make better food choices when I do ... I may have mentioned that before.

I get an email newsletter from Get-Fit Guy, and today's was about the ideal weight. If all his calucations are confusing, he also conveniently provided this very helpful and very interesting link. I was pretty happy with what it considered my ideal weight to be, though I haven't been there in several years. Sigh. I also did the weight loss calculator and was surprised to see that my "to lose weight" daily calories were 1,000 cals lower than my "to maintain" calories. 1,000 ... that seems like a lot of extra food, which I'm obviously eating during weeks that I don't lose weight. Seeing those hard figures is always eye-opening.

Weekend with very different days

Friday night, the kids wanted me to watch some TV with them, so we popped up some popcorn and settled in to watch ... I can't remember what we watched. It was probably something on Nick. Or Disney Channel.

As I was popping the corn (we do it on the stove, with oil and kernels), I noticed a bag of crunchy Cheetos on top of the fridge. And being the world's best rationalizer, I said, "I can have a few. I've lost inches." I poured some in a bowl, got the kids' popcorn and settled in to watch goofy kid shows.

About halfway through my Cheetos, I looked at the bowl and thought, "These really aren't very good."

This is what I do. Every time I lose weight, I rationalize that I can eat whatever and how much I want because I'm finally thin, but that obviously doesn't work, which is why I'm the consummate yo-yo dieter.

Yesterday (Saturday), I woke up and one of my first thoughts was, "I should get up and workout." Part of me groaned inwardly, but another part of me knew that once the thought was in my head, I would be totally disappointed in myself if I laid in bed and did nothing. So, I got up, put on my shorts and T-shirt, grabbed my socks and sneakers, and headed downstairs.

I got in another step aerobic workout, and another arm workout, plus ab crunches. Felt good. I didn't feel hungry all morning, so I didn't eat breakfast. I cooled down, showered and got ready to get groceries.

Two hours later, my daughter and I were back from the grocery store and my son helped us put groceries away. I made my kiddos a quick lunch and we went back out to do some last-minute back-to-school shopping.

Another two hours later, we were back home, and I realized that not only had I not eaten all day (oh wait, I did munch on about four slices of a very tasty Gala apple that I had cut up for the kids' lunch), but I also was not hungry.

I made yummy French dips for dinner along with a bowl of sliced strawberries and bananas, and some baby carrots; I also threw some frozen french fries in the oven for a side. I sat down to my sandwich, on a toasted hoagie roll with provolone cheese and au jus for dipping - SO GOOD! - and realized I was actually a bit apprehensive about eating. Here I hadn't eaten anything but a few slices of apple, and I was nervous about eating my dinner. Great, I thought, I'm starting to go in the other direction! I wasn't ignoring hunger pains, however; I really never felt hungry all day. I think it's my anxiety med.

I enjoyed the sandwich and ate a small serving of fruit, but here's the great part: I ate ONE FRENCH FRY. Anyone who knows me knows I LOVE french fries. But last night, I passed and didn't miss them at all.

This morning I woke up fairly early, and not wanting to start going in the other direction by not eating anything all day again, I decided I would just eat a little bit at each meal. I made pancakes for breakfast along with some oven cooked bacon - yummy! I had one pancake, no butter, a little syrup, and one slice of bacon. Still no coffee, and I've never been much of a juice fan, so just water to drink. I was satisfied. I did a short workout late in the morning.

In the afternoon, I ate a small lunch, then I made my own version of fatoush salad for dinner:

I marinated some boneless, skinless chicken breast in oil, lemon juice, garlic and onion powders, dried basil and oregano, and kosher salt and pepper for about an hour. I browned one side in oil in a hot pan for about five minutes, then finished them in the oven.

I had toasted some flat bread in the oven so it was nice and crispy. Then I tossed lettuce, diced tomatoes, diced cucumbers and broken pieces of the toasty flat bread in a large bowl. I whisked together olive oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic, cilantro and parsley and pour it over the salad and tossed it.

I lightly oiled the rest of the flat bread and warmed it in the oven and made some honey butter for it. I also had some store-bought hummus.

When it was time to eat, I tossed the salad again, plated it and topped it with feta cheese, the sliced lemony chicken and some extra toasted flat bread for crunchiness. I usually like mine with black olives as well, but I forgot them tonight.

This is such a yummy salad. My kids eat the ingredients separately, but they enjoy it, even the feta cheese. The bread that gets tossed in the salad really picks up the lemon flavor, so when you bite into it, you get this yummy burst of sour lemon, then with the salty feta ... so good.

Anyway, I enjoyed my salad - oh, and we had some fresh grapes on the table that were perfectly sweet and delicious. It was a good meal.

And then ...

Do you KNOW what I'm going to say?

The bread.

Every. Time.

I tried a piece of the flat bread with some of the honey butter and was HOOKED. Instead of just one tiny piece, like I planned, I ate an entire round of it. The flat bread I used was a bit larger than, say, your standard pita bread.

I felt bummed.

And the scary thing is, the demented, rationalizing part of me said, "Well, you blew it now. You might as well blow it all the way."

Grrr.

So, the cravings kicked in. I did entertain the thoughts for awhile, then poured myself a caffeine-free diet Pepsi to take the edge off. And I've been fine. 

I was really surprised at how uneasy I felt about eating on Saturday, when I hadn't had hardly anything all day. Then, it was so easy to over-indulge when I tried to just eat "normally." Finding the balance has been harder than I thought, but it's still early in this, and I'm proud of the working out I've done. It was amazing how different I felt about  myself, though.

Yesterday, when I barely ate a thing and had gotten in a good workout, I felt strong and stood tall and felt great.

Today, when I ate rather normally and worked out for only about 20 minutes, I felt jiggly and bloated.

<sigh> So much to overcome. One day at a time.

Progress

Well, since last Thursday was my Spice Girl-inspired start date for Operation: Size 16, I thought I'd weigh myself this morning.

It showed a two-pound GAIN.

But, I wasn't too bummed, because as I said last week, the scale was acting goofy, and I'm not sure if my starting weight was even correct. So, whatever.

The good news is that I lost inches! 1-1/2 on my bust, 1 on  my waist, 2 on my hips. Woo-hoo! I forgot to measure my thigh and upper arm, and I'm too comfy now to get back up and do it. I was pleased with that progress.

Didn't work out today ... my daughter and I got home from the salon where she got an adorable back-to-school haircut, and my son was in the basement watching SpongeBob. I sat for a minute to watch with him, then my daughter came down and asked if I was going to watch TV for a little bit. I told her that I was actually thinking of getting my walking shoes on and walking on the treadmill while they were down there. She said, "No, please just sit!" and laid across me so I couldn't get up! So, I didn't get up. Not that I couldn't lift a 64-pound girl off of my lap. I just felt they wanted a little bit of ME time, where I'm just with them and not focused on a zillion other things. So, three of us sat through half an hour of hilariously stupid SpongeBob. It was actually pretty nice.

I like the way I feel these days. Even though I know in reality I'm still soft and jiggly, I feel stronger when I'm working out. I hold myself differently, walk a little straighter. You know how it goes.

Oh, that reminds me ... My son was watching me work out to one of my step aerobic tapes and he said, "Mom, if you keep doing that, you'll look like that blonde girl." He was referring to the tall, thin, blonde woman leading the workout. I asked, "Would that be good or bad?" and he shrugged and said, "It depends on if you want to be skinny."

The meaninful thing for me in that response is that he left that evaluation up to me. To him, it didn't matter.

Anyway ... I'm feeling pretty good right now. Seeing the change in the tape measure was surprising and encouraging. It can only get better if I just keep going.

Overcoming battles ... most of the time

I've had an interesting few days. Let's see ...

1) One evening, I had my usual cereal craving after the kids went to bed. It was gnawing and gnawing at me, driving me nuts. Lately, my "thing" is all about small, significant steps, and what I can do to make each snack or meal just a little bit better for me. So, I think, "Okay, how about if I just eat half a bowl? I'll conquer the craving, but not do as much damage."

So, I get my half a bowl of Raisin Bran Crunch, which I can't eat in the morning because most flake cereals have malt in them, which puts me to sleep (plus, now that I've see the sugar content of RBC, I will be forgoing it from how on due to the reflux.). I pour half a bowl, pour the milk and eat.

And can I tell you that I was satisfied? That giving in a little bit did the trick and I was completely free from any craving for the rest of the night?

No, I can't tell you that. Because I wasn't. And it didn't. And I had the other half about 60 seconds after finishing the first half.

2) I had a TOTAL binge-like craving last night. Huge carb craving.

I realized that the cats were out of food and wouldn't have any for the morning, so I made a run to the store at around 10 p.m.

I get the cat food, then I think, "Little Debbies" in that zoned-out Homer Simpson-like way. I decide I'm going to give in to this craving, skinny jeans be damned - I need sugar and fat! So, I casually wander over to the Little Debbies shelf, and just as I'm beginning to look, a woman comes around the corner, all trim and athletic, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, and I keep on walking, like "No, I'm not a fat woman who was just drooling over the variety of treats on this shelf."

I wander aimlessly in the produce section, like I'm really looking for something, and figure she's probably cleared out, and head back to Little Debbie land.

Nope, she's still hanging around. So, I decide I might as well pick up a gallon of milk since we go through it so quickly. I pick up the milk and head BACK to the Little Debbies (is it Little or Li'l?) and she's standing around the corner from them! So, I give up. I'm not picking up and carrying around a box of Swiss Cake Rolls in front of this woman.

I felt good that I hadn't actually gone through with it. And the whole situation reminded me of the passages in the Bible that talk about how God never lets us be tempted beyond what we can bear, and he always provides a way out. You know what I'm thinking? That woman was my way out. She kept hanging around right in that area, even though I went back THREE TIMES. So, thank you, Lord. (Maybe she was checking them out herself.)

3) I was listening to one of my audio books today, and in it a character who had just begun writing a book states that she's discovered the one thing about writing that other people who say they want to write but never get around to doing it or who start writing and never finish don't have. I sat up straighter in the car and listened closely, given that I'm one of the latter people. And there's a dramatic pause in the CD, and the narrator says ...

"Discipline."

Oh, ugh, not THAT. Yes, I already know I lack discipline. Hence the unfinished manuscript and the smaller jeans sitting up high on a shelf in my closet. 

I've come to realize (you ever notice how much "realizing" I do on this blog?) that I have these two big desires battling it out with each other: wanting to lose weight and wanting to finish my manuscript, two things I have complete control over. I have a third big desire, which is to be a stay-at-home mom again, but that one isn't as quite in my control as I'd like. These things produce a lot of anxiety in me, a constant sense of urgency, a feeling that I just can't catch up in life. For an emotional eater, those things are HUGE (pardon the pun).

If I tend to eat because I'm not quite satisfied with how life is going at the moment, or to calm my anxiety, or to comfort myself when I feel overwhelmed ... well, that's my life right now. At any given moment, I'm feeling one of those things.

Hence my carb cravings. Carbs are calming. And giving me a big butt. Which is alarming.

I tend to have an anxiety issue anyway, and had started an Rx for it earlier in the year, but went off it, basically because I could never remember to take it (did I mention I have a problem with discipline?) and it's pretty expensive. Now, I'm thinking, if I could get a little help with this hum of anxiety I'm always living with, maybe I can get a better handle on eating, as well as on discipline in other areas. So, I started taking it today.

4) I caught a sideways view of myself in the full-length mirror in the bathroom at work and was HORRIFIED. I can't believe someone was able to put a watermelon in the back of my pants without me realizing it.

5) My co-worker popped her head into my office this morning to let me know that she had brought a cake in and it was sitting on the back table. I told her thanks, and never went back to the back table.

6) I spent about 10 minutes at work today finding exercises I could do while trapped at a desk in front of a computer and actually did some.

So, good and not so good. But I'm learning ... all the time, learning.

Not bad so far ...

When, oh WHEN am I going to learn that I can not tolerate bread!?

But before I get into that, I've had a couple good days. Yesterday I weighed myself, though our digital scale is acting up so I'm not entirely sure it's accurate. I also took measurements ... yikes. Talk about the cold, hard truth (or soft, squishy truth, which would be more accurate here). Not sharing these figures. Maybe when I get to my goal, but for now - eek. I just can't share. Too embarrassing.

Let's see ... ate rather well; not a lot of flour, and sugar? Let me think ... no, not a lot of sugar now that I think of it. Last night as I was working, I got a craving as I do most every night. I usually crave a bowl of cereal, but last night, it was for one of the Drumsticks we have in the freezer (the ice cream kind, not the from-a-chicken kind. Anyone who knows me knows that I would NEVER eat a chicken drumstick). But I ignored the craving and kept right on working. Would have been too hard to eat an ice cream cone while typing anyway.

This morning, I felt a pull for a Burger King croissanwich, but again, drove right on by. I hadn't given myself time to eat breakfast, but luckily my boss made some mini zucchini muffins and brought them in, so I held myself over with one of those. Yes, one. Amazing, no? She had also made a Chex-like mix that was super yummy. I had some at about noon to hold myself over until lunch at 1.

Then, tonight, we had spaghetti, and I had a small serving. But then, I was pulled in by the dang garlic toast. Within minutes after I ate it, I was so bloated and felt sickish. I'm not sure if it's the mold allergy or what, but I felt pretty bad.

The good news is that I was sitting on the couch feeling bloated and awful, and decided to work out. So, I did a 35-minute step aerobic tape - I know, can I BE any more 90s? But I love doing step aerobics, and I've gotten into pretty great shape doing it in the past. I also did some weights, mostly arms, for about 15 minutes.

No snacks tonight. That's two nights in a row with no snacking, which is really good for me.

I came across an interesting article today as well. Actually, it was just the intro to the article, but it caught my attention:

************
Tweak Your Lifestyle - by Jessican Girdwain, Health magazine

It's a familiar story: you pledge to honor a daily elliptical routine and count every last calorie. But soon, you're eating cupcakes at the office and grabbing happy hour mojitos, thinking, Oops, diet over.

There is a better way: Swap the all-or-nothing approach for one or two healthy switch-ups in your daily routine. "Doing this can lead to more weight loss than you ever imagined," says Marissa Lippert, RD, author of The Cheater's Diet. [Side note: Love that book title. I'm so going to check that out.]

****************
The article went on to share these small tips that women who had lost quite a bit of weight did, like never skipping breakfast or listening to super fun music while working out, and the point was that they just did these minor changes, not some whole big lifestyle overhaul.

Which is what I do all the time. Only, I won't just stop at restricting my diet and vowing to work out every day. I'll tack on "I'll floss my teeth twice a day." "I'll get up 20 minutes early to have my quiet time every morning." "I'll have a spotless house by the end of the day every day." and so on. So many changes all at once, pretty much guaranteeing that I'll fail.

It's these small, mindful steps that can really make a difference, which is what I'm counting on. And for me, working out is SO key. When I'm working out on a regular basis, I just automatically eat better and eat less.

So, that's what's going on so far. Pretty pleased with myself. I was going to post a "before" photo, but forgot to have one taken. Maybe tomorrow.

Ready to try again?

I was at a birthday party for my beautiful niece and nephew this past weekend, and I overheard one of my sisters mention an upcoming wedding (our cousin's) and how she'd like to be able to wear a nice dress, etc. Of course, I locked on to that ... another challenge, another deadline, another goal.

Ever optimistic, we diet-obsessed are. Right away, my mind was a blur with diet plans and weighing in and those skinny jeans I mention all the time.

A couple years ago, those jeans fit very comfortably on me. They are size 16 Misses (NOT Women's), in the modern style of being a little low on the hips. I had gotten to the point where I was having not one bit of trouble pulling them on, buttoning and zipping them. It was a nice feeling. During this same time period, my size 16 work slacks were getting a bit loose.

I know to a lot of people, size 16 sounds so big, but I'm 5'11". On me, a 16 looks decent. I'm currently a soft and squishy size 18. I'm carrying most of my weight in my butt and thighs, though my tummy is involved this time around as well.

I would LOVE to be back in those 16s. It felt good to not be so self-conscious. I knew I could pull out those jeans and whatever shirt I wanted and I'd look fine. I felt normal.

I came across this site My Body Gallery where you can plug in your height, weight, size and body shape, and it will show you (if they are available) photos of women with your same criteria. The idea is to see "real" women, not Photoshopped models and celebrities. I was pleasantly surprised by what I saw.

There's always this ridiculous part of me that would love to be that size 8 I was back in my anorexic days. But when I saw this size with my height on the site, I cringed. And while I did admire the size 12s, I was perfectly satisfied with the 16s. When I met my husband, let's see, it's been 17 years ago now, I was a size 14, the smallest I've been since high school. I worked out quite a bit back then - lots of step aerobics. So, okay, yes, being a 14 would rock, but the 16 would be fine. And more importantly, it is so totally doable and reachable.

(am I making up words in my zeal?)

That's only one size. For a November wedding.

Okay, my brain just reminded me that I had this same goal - to be in those size 16 jeans - by June of this year. Didn't do it. Not even close. What makes me think I'll do it this time, with even less time than I had before?

Not sure. But I've been gearing up for something. I have a couple different workouts that I've either saved from different sites or that I've torn out of magazines. I've been studying some of the lower-carb eating plans. I've been doing all this "compiling" and getting ready but I haven't put a start date on anything. Fear of failure? Possibly. But I'll definitely fail if I never start.

Still kicking around the idea of using this blog for accountability. Because I love blogging, and I know it's not something I want to give up. The idea of being SO public is overwhelming. But less people would probably notice here than they would on my SparkPeople or My Fat Secret accounts. And on this blog, the rules are all mine - how much or how often I share.  But what if my two or three followers couldn't care less about what I eat or how much I exercise? But what if they did?

Not sure why all the hesitation ... particularly for something I really, really want. (Ew. Now I'm channeling the Spice Girls.)

All right. Enough is enough. It starts tomorrow. I do best eating low carb, particulary since sugary, floury food items either put me to sleep (food allergy - mold) or cause acid reflux. I need to get my body moving - walking, step aerobics, weights.

Size 16. Here I come. Zigazig ha.

The "friend" part of "frenemy"

I got to thinking the other day that by stating that food is my frenemy, I acknowledge that, at times, food is my "friend." I'm not always battling with food. I enjoy food. I love reading about it, I love perusing cookbooks, I like cooking and love baking, I LOVE going through the kitchen section of just about any store (Meijer and Target being particular faves).

One of my longest-standing dreams, besides publishing a book, is to have a big luscious kitchen someday. I've always had small galley kitchens; I want lots of space - lots of counter space and tons of cupboards and drawers, and a pantry, and an island with a sink in it, and one of those racks where you can lay your dishes vertically like books on a shelf, and a few of the cupboards should have glass doors so you can see the gorgeous plates and glassware that I'm sure to own when I have this dream kitchen, and a double oven (the oven in the wall like my Gram B's house had would be awesome!), and a large stove top where half of it is a grill, and a beautiful tile backsplash, and shelves to display my cookbooks  ... <catching breath>.

I really haven't given this much thought.

That being said, I think I'd like to start including posts that are simply about food - not necessarily my problems with it, my battle with the scale, my skinny jeans pushed to the top shelf of my closet, and on and on.

As I mentioned the other day, at the suggestion of my gorgeous friend, Steph E, I had searched out some blogs with similar topics as mine, and found quite a few I enjoyed reading. Because this particular topic involves "food" I also found some AWESOME blogs about cooking and recipes and what not. Have you seen these blogs? They are amazing, with photos of ingredients set out cutely before cooking commences, then step-by-step photos of the item being prepared, then drool-inducing shots of spectactular-looking food.

I have bookmarked some of those blogs: Brown Eyed Baker, Smitten Kitchen ... I'll link more when I find them. I dare you to visit one and not be pulled into the writing, the photography and the great food.

As I perused, I didn't comment or otherwise involve myself much in the food blogs because, well, food bloggers just seem so cool, so out of my league. And what am I gonna say? "I binged out after making your recipe for homemade cream-filled long johns! Thanks for sharing!"

The point is, food doesn't have to be something I'm always fighting with. After all, I didn't call this blog Food as Enemy. It's about finding balance.

Reading about people who "get it"

My super awesome BFF gave me some advice when I first started blogging and said if I wanted followers, I need to visit and become active on other similar blogs. I searched out other blogs about overcoming compulsive eating and really enjoyed them ... unfortunately, some of the ones I was most interested in were no longer active, which was a bummer, and I realized I never saved the others I wanted to follow to my favorites, so now I need to re-search for them, and I just haven't taken time.

Overall, I was super impressed with how open some of these women were, using their blogs as a place to not only write about their weight loss journey, but also providing facts about pounds and inches and sizes and meals ... even going so far as posting photos of the scale readout as they stood on it! Wow, there's honesty and accountability if I've ever seen it.

I had never thought about using this blog for accountability. I don't even have my photo on  it. I've dabbled on SparkPeople and My Fat Secret, but I haven't really been very consistent. I get worn out by all the entering of food and constant updating ... but I've also read that people who are diligent about tracking what, how much and why they eat are the most successful at losing weight. What it boils down to for me is, I simply don't want to be held accountable. It's the same old song and dance: I want the prize without doing the work.

I read an interesting account of dieting in a book recently. It's from a character named Allie in Beth Harbison's book "Hope in a Jar." This is from my scrawled notes and it's not necessarily a direct quotation from the book:

"Allie rejected the notion that everyone who overeats does it due to some deep, psychological trauma. But at the same time, she wonders why it is so hard for her to whip up some willpower and lose the weight. For her, that seems to be the big question ...

... and she realizes that she has trouble sticking to a diet simply because she resents the fact that she has to.

So, she's put on a few pounds. Why does she now have to work extra hard and give up the undeniable pleasure of food just to lose them?

The answer ... is that she just does. She just has to. Life isn't always fair, and this is a good example of that.

In the past, she had the feeling that it was out of her control. But now she knows she can make the right changes. Just by taking one sensible step after another in the right direction. That is all. It's plodding and slow at times - but it's the approach she is going to have to take."

I love this. Because it's me. I do resent it. And it wears on me after awhile, the constant thinking about food and what I'm going to eat or what I'm going to avoid eating and facing my dismal self-control almost on a daily basis - it's annoying and frustrating. I think that's why, sometimes, I'll think, "I just need to accept that this is how I am and be fine with being overweight and quit thinking about it anymore." Which, of course, I never can do because I see the potential in me and I feel within me the overwhelming desire to be thin. Yes, yes, I know, I'm supposed to say, "the overwhelming desire to be healthy." Yes, I do want to be healthy, but when I'm strategizing yet again, it's appearance I'm thinking about most.

I also love the simplistic answer the character comes up with: Why do I have to do it? Because I just do. So quit talking about it to death and just do it already.

But the biggest key for me in this passage is when Allie realizes that she has the power to make the right choices, and it's a long, slow process of "one sensible step after another in the right direction." I think what trips me up and sabotages me ALL THE TIME is that I want it now. Two weeks from now, I want to be in my skinny jeans and be toned and fabulous. Well, of course, it doesn't work like that.

If I determine to take one sensible step at a time, and if I stop putting the rush on myself, it shouldn't be wearing and frustrating; the process should be positive since it's bringing me closer to my goal. The reason it gets frustrating is because, if you'll pardon the pun, I want to have my cake and eat it, too. I mean, can I be any more juvenile?

Me: I want to lose weight.
Motherly voice: Well, then, you need to eat less, exercise and make more healthful choices.
Me (whining): But I don't want to do that.
Motherly voice: Then you won't lose weight.
Me (whining): But I want to.
Motherly voice: Then eat fewer carbs and move around more.
Me: But I love carbs.
Motherly voice: Then you won't lose weight.
Me: But I want to.
Motherly voice: I need a tequila shot. 

So, in the end, this blog does hold me somewhat accountable because seeing my thought patterns in black and white is quite eye-opening.

Here's to, starting tomorrow (because it's 1:10 a.m. right now), taking one sensible step after another.

Want true love? Have kids.

In fairness to my whipper-snappers, I thought I'd better post some of the wonderful things they do and say after yesterday's post. I certainly don't want to give the impression that my kids are little bundles of meanness and rudeness, because they are not at all.

My son:

I'm not sure what we were talking about one day, but I remember making a comment that everyone isn't cute all the time. My son responded with, "You are." Aww. I said, "Have you ever seen me in the morning?" I have naturally curly hair, and since I shower at night and, therefore, go to bed with damp hair, I do a wonderful impression of Medusa in the mornings.

He said, "Yeah. You're still cute."

(Then my daughter reminded me that when someone compliments you, you don't point out how they are wrong, you just say "thank you.")

My daughter:

On one of the rare days that I actually get to be home during the week, I was getting ready to take my daughter to school. I put the aforementioned morning Medusa hair into a ponytail, put contacts in, but no make up, and headed out the door.

As we drove, I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror and commented that I hoped I wouldn't see anyone I knew since I wasn't looking all that great. She said, "You look like yourself." I was thinking that myself could use a bit of eyeliner and mascara, and she said, "You should never feel bad about looking like yourself."

My son:

Sometimes he'll just walk up to me, give me a big hug and say in the sweetest, most contented voice, "Mommy."

My daughter:

One of my favorite things is when I'm chatting with my daughter and saying goofy stuff, and she laughs and says with true emotion: "I love you, Mom."

Actually, I love when I make my kids laugh. I have a pretty silly nature, which at the ages of 9 and 7 they usually think is funny, though I have a feeling at 16 and 14 they'll be over it. Since they've inherited from me a boisterous (read: loud) laugh, it's very satisfying being the one who tickles their funny bones.

My son:

Just now, as I was walking over to our PC, I said to him, as he's playing his 560,586th game of Lego Star Wars, "You are so cute." And gave me the cutest smile and said, "You are the mommy I love most in the world."

My daughter:

At the end of the last school year, she told me that she and her two best friends decided that out of all three of their moms, I was the best one. Aww.

My son:

One time at dinner, which he was enjoying very much, he told me that if I had been on Chopped (on the Food Network), I would have won the $10,000 prize.

I'm so blessed, and believe me, I never take that for granted.

Ego too big? Have kids.

Here are just a few of the ego-plummeting comments I've heard within the last couple years:

"Smoosh, smoosh" ... said by my nine-year-old daughter as she pushed on my belly.

"What is that thing on your face?!" ... said in disgust by my daughter as she pointed to a mole on my chin.

"Ew ... what is THAT?" ... said, again in disgust, by my seven-year-old son as he noticed a skin tag I have under my arm. (When I told him he needed to go have breakfast, he informed me that he had lost his appetite.)

"Your nose is all slimy!" ... said by my daughter after she pinched my nose (I have an oily T-zone, what can I say!?)

"Your legs jiggle when you do that." ... said by my daughter as she watched me do step aerobics (and after she had just noted out loud that the people in the video were all in such good shape).

"You have a little hair poking out of your nose." ... said by my daughter as we chatted.

"Jiggle, jiggle." ... said by my daughter's friend while we were in the pool and after I lifted my arms up to put my hair in a ponytail.

Sigh.

I know they aren't being mean or trying to be hurtful - it's all observation. But someone who doesn't know me and only read the above might thing I look like some fat Halloween witch with random facial hair and protruding moles and warts ... which I don't, I promise!

I want my kids to be proud of me - of the things I do, of course, but also in how I present myself. Now, obviously, a curious nose hair isn't something I can always necessarily avoid, but I can be fit and less jiggly, be a good example of taking care of oneself and taking pride in one's appearance. I've talked about this (pride in appearance) with my daughter in regard to nail polish. It's one of my pet peeves to see chipped nail or toe polish, and I was getting on her case about needing to freshen up her toe polish since it looks so sloppy when it's all chipped up, and it's all part of taking pride in your appearance.

A lesson in practicing what I preach?

My toes are perfectly polished, thank you.

Okay, okay ... yes, pride in how I look, I know.

Of course, I can't want to lose weight and get fit for anyone other than me. But having my kids look at me and smile with pride would mean quite a lot.

It's August???

Wow … a broken laptop has really put a damper on my post writing. Hopefully I’ll have it back soon.

I’m still coffee free, though I have had some caffeine in pop. Yes, I had some pop. I actually miss that more than the coffee. What I miss about coffee is the ritual of it, holding that warm mug with both hands on cold mornings, hearing my coffee maker beep beep beep beep to let me know that coffee’s ready, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee first thing in the morning, telling my kids that I can not possibly do ANYTHING until I’ve had my first complete cup of coffee. Good times. Now, I drink water all day long. I tried it with lemon, but found that it irritated the whole stomach acid condition, so just plain ol’ ice water for me. Weird. But this is life now.

Will I ever go back to drinking coffee? I don’t know. I do enjoy the taste of it, but I’ve proven to myself that I don’t need it. Yes, we read good things about it all the time, antioxidants and other health benefits, but … I’m still in the stage where sipping coffee is associated with terrible nausea. No thanks.

I weighed myself about a week ago and my reaction was - oh crap. The numbers on the scale had been ever so slightly creeping upward. I’ve been more mindful of my food choices and have actually exercised a few times as well. When I exercise regularly, I’ve found that I automatically eat better, because why go through all that strain and sweat, and then pig out?

There have been times when I’ve decided that I enjoy food too much to try to cut back or give things up, so I’m just going to work out everyday to make up for it. Then, a few days later, I decide that I really don’t like working out so I’d better just eat less and better.

Right now, I’m in a “I like working out” mode. I just feel strong and healthy when I get a good workout in, and it’s a positive step in the right direction. I see women walking or running near my house every day and so many of them are incredibly fit, and I think, “That could be me.”

It takes work and careful thought and intentional choices to be thin and fit. Sitting around feeling envious of women who actually make smart food choices and make time to exercise does nothing to move me forward. I was telling my awesome friend Steph the other day that my mindset lately has been “More action, less talk” and not just about food, but about my life in general. Choosing to forgo french fries or dessert, and deciding to go for a walk or work out with weights gets me closer to my goals. It’s all these small decisions that add up to huge change and, hopefully, no more huge Sheri.  

Caffeine free and okay with it

What a difference a few days can make.

Today marks exactly a week that I haven't had coffee. Headaches are gone, sleepiness is gone, I feel pretty good actually. I had one diet Pepsi this past week, but then figured that soda probably wasn't all that great for reflux, so I've avoided that as well.

I read that fatty foods can cause problems with heartburn, and I really haven't done too bad in that department ... I ate some chips with a sandwich (that had horseradish/dijon mayo on it ... have you had this yet? Delish ... Kraft makes it), and I was fine. Though I don't think I'll be ordering fries any time soon.

One thing I have also avoided is sugar. I know. Where did this new Sheri come from? But remember in my last post I had eaten ice cream and had pain? I think the most sugary thing I've eaten since vacation was a bowl of Raisin Bran Crunch. Oh, no wait ... I had a mini Snickers at work. But still ... I made Rice Krispies treats a few days ago and didn't eat any of them. I was running late for work and thought about just grabbing a Pop Tart and throwing it into my bag for later, but I felt my stomach acid gearing up to give me trouble at just the thought of eating a sugary Pop Tart. So, I took the time to put some shredded wheat in a baggie and took that instead. 

((should I be using generic sounding names, like "crisp rice treats" and "toaster pastry"? I'm seriously not trying to do product placement, it's just happening.))

There was a plate a jumbo chocolate chip cookies in our break room and I walked right on by and filled up my water bottle. So, yeah, I feel good. It's kind of like my body has forced  me to finally make good choices and to eat only until satisfied, or risk nausea and nasty pain. I feel like a normal eater, taking time to evaluate my food choices a bit and really listening to my body rather than just shoving food and treats down my gullet. I'm being more thoughtful when it comes to food, by which I don't mean I'm buying my lunch flowers and telling it how nice it looks ... I'm just putting more thought in how I eat.

And the refreshing thing is that I'm not restricing what I eat in order to lose weight. I haven't even considered that at all. That always feels like such deprivation, forgoing what I really want to eat in order to see a number on a scale go down. Right now, some of the things I used to eat have the possibility of causing me great discomfort, and it's not worth it. 

Oh, and that acid reducer that shall not be named? (That's my shout out to HP in honor of the final movie.) I'M OFF IT! I was SO sick and miserable while I was on it, it was awful. My doc is supposed to contact me on Monday, and I'm hoping that I can talk him into letting me see what I can do by avoiding any triggers and (hopefully) losing weight. 

An entire blog post about my health condition? I'm getting old.

Okay ... I'll turn off my Toshiba laptop now, brush with Colgate Total, then lotion my hands up with Bath & Body Works lotion before calling it a day. Thought I'd end with a few more brand names.

I'm right there with you, Adam





The end of an era?

Hope everyone (all three of my followers) had a great 4th!

Got back from a family vacation late Friday afternoon, and I've been milking the "I'm on vacation" excuse for everything all weekend, from ignoring housework and indulging in a book to eating lots of treats.

Now, Monday looms and it's back to business.

The week before vacation, I started (again) a daily dosage of omeprazole for gastric reflux. I had been having horrible pains in my chest (an endoscopy a few years ago revealed an esophageal hernia) and I noticed I had a sore throat and raspy voice - from acid, I wondered. So, I got back on the Rx. I stopped taking it earlier in the year because I got really bloated and gained some weight after previously losing almost 10 pounds. Vanity. It's a pain in the chest.

So, I started taking the drug again - then, I was so nauseated and I felt bloated after eating and I was tired and just generally felt unwell. I looked up symptoms for bloating and found an article that just happened to casually mention bloating as a symptom for ovarian cancer. So, my anxiety-riddled brain freaked out because I looked up the symptoms for o. cancer and I had so many of them:

• Bloating
• Difficulty eating or feeling full quickly
• Pelvic or abdominal pain
• Abnormal menstrual cycles
• Digestive symptoms: Constipation, increased gas, indigestion, lack of appetite, nausea and vomiting
• Sense of pelvic heaviness
• Swollen abdomen or belly
• Unexplained back pain that worsens over time
• Vaginal bleeding
• Vague lower abdominal discomfort'
• Weight gain or loss
• Source: http://www.healthline.com/adamcontent/ovarian-cancer?marinid=s2kwS7NFl#ixzz1RlbixYgA

I went through a little freak out before common sense knocked on my head and called out, "Is anyone home?" When I looked up side effects of omeprazole, many of the same digestive symptoms came up, which was what was bothering me the most. I mean really - I start taking a Rx and that's the same week I suddenly have ovarian cancer?

I really need to stop Googling stuff like that.

Anyway, I was so sick, but thought I'd stick with it, maybe the symptoms would ease up after awhile. But then on vacation, I was afraid to take it, because who wants to be bloated and nauseated on vacation?

I stopped taking the acid reducer (my poor body doesn't know if it's coming or going), but I noticed that in the mornings, I was still so very nauseated. Okay, this isn't the part of the post where I announce a surprise pregnancy. Because wouldn't that be a kick in the pants. No ... I put two and two together and wondered if it was my beloved morning coffee that was making me so sick.

Anyone who knows me knows that I love my morning coffee. No matter what my day looks like, that first sip of coffee in the morning is THE BEST. I've had coffee in the morning every day for probably about the last 25 years, save for my pregnancies. I had cut back quite a bit in the past five or so years, from drinking it all day to only having two cups in the morning, maybe one later in the day.

On Friday I decided to forgo my coffee. I had a killer caffeine withdrawal headache, but I felt okay otherwise. Saturday and Sunday, again, no coffee, and I felt pretty good, not even much of a headache.

Of course, I've overeaten, though I'm not sure if it was my vacation state of mind or compensation for not having coffee. I also felt SO tired, both days falling asleep on the couch for about 1/2 hour in the late morning. Was that no caffeine or was that too many carbs? Not sure.

I indulged in some ice cream tonight, and right now I'm having that chest pain. That's either my beloved carbs/sugar or I need to get back on the meds.

My point is (Hurray! She's gotten to a point!) maybe all my disordered eating is why I'm suffering now from these types of things. Maybe bombarding my systems with too much food or too much sugar have just thrown everything out of whack. I'm in my 40s now, so there's about 30 years of eating havoc I've wreaked on my body, mixtures of starvation, binging, purging, overeating, sensible and healthful eating ...

How depressing ... 30 years, and the majority of it not "sensible and healthful."

This is normally the time I'd begin being mean to myself and scolding myself ... "See? Physical problems. Is that enough to make you want to eat right? You've got to stop being such a glutton. You're probably killing yourself; is that what you want? Fine example for your kiddos."

<sigh> But I'm not going to do that. I'll wake up tomorrow (eek! in less than six hours), forgo coffee, start my acid reducer again, and eat "right." Smaller portions. No desserts. See how I feel.

Might as well face it, you're addicted to food

(Did I just conjure sleek women with dull expressions and glossy red lips swaying in time to music they are not playing on the instruments they are holding?)

I'm currently in a period of using food for comfort and avoidance. It, in a (crass) word, sucks.

I've been indulging quite a bit with desserts in particular. I'm currently feeling frustrated with certain areas of my life, and rather than allowing myself to feel the frustration and, in turn, allow those feelings to prompt me to action that can possibly make things better, I eat treat after treat.

Makes a whole lot of sense, doesn't it?

The rich, sugary foods make me happy, the full sensation comforts me, and I can forget for a few minutes about things that don't make me happy and that don't comfort me.

Then what happens?

On top of the frustrating situations, I'm now super soft and squishy - just in time for swimsuit season! Talk about frustrating (and a lot of s's in one sentence).

Writing it out like that really helps me see how completely ridiculous it is. And it reminds me of Geneen Roth's book Women, Food and God, or something like that. I'll have to dig up my notes on it and talk more about it later this week.

(Yes, I take notes while I read. You don't?)

An order of people watching with a side of judgment

Walk with me on a busy city street, will you?

There are several people walking along the sidewalk with us, some alone, some in pairs. Some in professional dress on their way to a smartly designed office somewhere. Some are casually dressed, with a messenger bag or back pack slung over their shoulders. Some are pushing strollers, some are chatting on their cell phones, some are sipping coffee or an icy blended drink of some kind. Some are walking with determination and speed, maybe running behind schedule, maybe just eager to get where they are going. Some are strolling, stopping occasionally to peer in a shop window. Some smile and nod in greeting as we pass by, some look straight ahead.

Tell me ...

• Which person is embezzling thousands of dollars from his company? 
• Which person is having an affair on her husband? 
• Which person has a collection of child pornography in a locked drawer at home? 
• Which person is an alcoholic who abuses his wife during drunken rages?
• Which person screams obscenities at and verbally abuses her children?
• Which person is wearing something that she recently shoplifted?
• Which person eats too much?

That last one is easy, huh?

I know ... appearance is the first thing we see and we judge people on this first impression. But the thing that irks me is that so often the overweight and the obese among us are thought of so disdainfully simply based on the fact that they are carrying extra weight. Simply written off. Either ridiculed or ignored outright.

Wouldn't you think twice about a friendship/relationship with some of the other people listed, even if they were in amazing shape and incredibly physically attractive?

Thin doesn't necessarily equal good. And fat doesn't always mean lazy, smelly and worthless.

And that's not even getting into the reasons why someone may be overweight - medications, physical disorders, emotional issues, anxiety/depression, simple gluttony and lack of self-control, etc.

You just don't know people until you know them. That goes with all stereotypes, of course, but weight is the one I deal with. Like I wrote in my bio, I've been thin and I've been obese. Outwardly I've looked different, but inside I've always been the same person. And it would kill me when I could see the judgement/disdain/disgust on someone's face, simply due to my size. I'd want to shout, "I'm a nice person. I'm generous. I'm funny. I'm a hard worker. Get to know me!"

We've all seen the undercover reports featuring overweight people- I remember one where they had an overweight woman asking for help carrying something, I don't remember how far, maybe a couple blocks or something, and NO ONE would help her, but many people (men) were willing to help the thin woman, even to great lengths, offering to help beyond what she was asking.

I remember a magazine article from a while back in which the author spent time in a fat suit. She recounted how she was walking down the street eating an ice cream cone one afternoon, and a man passing her in the other direction said "Unbelievable" when he saw her. She talked about a time when she and a male companion went to a restaurant, and when she excused herself to go to the bathroom, a pair of ladies nearby commented to her friend that he could "do a lot better." Ack! How the hell do they know that?

The author returned from the bathroom sans fat suit, and apparently the women left in a huff. But the nerve! First of all, none of their business! The friend certainly did not ask for their opinion. Second, they didn't know anything about this woman, but because she was fat, she was low on the good-catch totem pole.

I know fat and flab are not attractive. Trust me. I know this. So, certainly, I can understand someone not being attracted to an overweight person. But what about just basic common decency? What about empathy and giving people the benefit of the doubt?

Hey, I'm not perfect. I can be just as judge-y as the next guy. It's human nature, maybe some kind of protective mechanism, like if I can find something bad or unappealing about someone else, I may not be that bad in comparison.

Speaking of human nature, maybe there's some kind of instinctual thing to this thin worship, like cavemen sought out the skinny cave women because they worried that the fat ones would eat all their food, and it was damn hard going out and clubbing those saber-toothed tigers.

Plus the skinny ones were easier to drag home by the hair.

If you can't say something nice ...

I was looking through photos from 2008 to put up on my Bug & Ry-Guy blog and I came across a photo of me at my son's birthday party. It's a side-view shot, and I'm not sure what I'm doing or why someone even took the photo, but I look terrible in it. Hid. I. Ous. I'm so fat; I was completly aghast when I saw it.

Then came, of course, the running commentary in my head of meanness, of putting myself down and scolding myself and threatening myself and giving up on myself.

I'm a bully.

Seriously. I'm so mean to myself. If a friend told me she saw a photo of herself that was less than flattering (okay, even that statement is telling - when I refer to my imaginary friend's photo, I say "less than flattering." When I refer to my photo, I say "Hid. I. Ous."), would I barrage her with statements like, "Yeah, look how huge your butt is. Your boobs look like two swinging canteloupes shoved into your bra. And that shirt? What were you thinking? You probably thought you looked halfway decent, too."

If a friend or sister confided in me about having a bad eating day, would I scold her about how weak she is, about how pathetic she is? Would I demand that she stop eating sugar/flour/desserts/anything at all, immediately?

No. I would never talk to a friend or sister that way. I would find something positive about the photo, and remind her that the point of the photo isn't how she looks anyway, but about the fun party she worked so hard on and point out how happy her son looks. I would tell her the past is past, and if she messed up she can try to learn from it and resolve to do her best; that nobody's perfect, and her worth is not tied up into whether she ate too many calories or carbs in a day; that she is a nice person with many wonderful qualities that have nothing to do with the size of her butt.

I need to be a friend to myself. Because everything I just wrote regarding my imaginary friend or sister is true for me. So, why can't I tell myself those things? Why don't I think I deserve to be treated tenderly?

Because for years, YEARS, I tell you, my self-worth has depended on my size. Big and fat = don't deserve anything good. I remember a long time ago, seeing Oprah talk about winning a daytime Emmy award and how the only thing she could think of as she walked up to the stage to get the award was how fat she looked in her dress. She had accomplished SO much, was winning AN AWARD, but it was negated because she was overweight.

I totally get that.

It's very hard for me to hear a compliment. There's this automatic deflection in my brain, like a tennis racket hitting back a serve, that doesn't allow the compliment to sink in and be appreciated. Too many failures and perceived failures move in to take over like weeds, choking the life out of the compliment, so it withers, dies and is forgotten.

That has to stop. I'm valuable. I have good in me. And, yes, I have a big butt.

So what?

Who (what) do you love?

I had this epiphany once. (Yep, just once.)

I know these two women, I'll call them Lisa and Stephanie (because those are their names). One is an acquaintance, one is a good friend. They are both slim, fit and very attractive.

Having had the good fortune to have hung out quite a bit with Stephanie in the past before her smarty-pants of a husband got into a school in PA (the nerve of him and all his dang smarty-pants ambition), I've seen her make many smart food choices, say, forgoing the whipped cream on a small frappucino (like, literally scraping it off into the garbage one time when she forgot to tell the barista to leave it off), or refusing the cheese and sour cream on a burrito (and asking for lettuce instead). She's not obsessive, just careful. She enjoys sweets now and again, but she's not an overeater.

Lisa I don't know as well, but I can see that she's in amazing, enviable shape. And nice? She's wonderfully friendly and seems very sweet. I remember we were at a class party one day (our sons were in the same class), and I sat in a tiny chair with my plate heaped with all sorts of yummy food and treats, while she sat nearby with her youngest son and simply watched the party.

One random afternoon, I don't even know why I was thinking of these women, but I remember it was at a time when I was gaining weight again after a recent loss, and it occurred to me that the reason Lisa and Stephanie are both fit and trim (okay, that reminds me of dog food) ... rewrite: ... the reason Lisa and Stephanie are thin and fit is that THEY VALUE THEMSELVES MORE THAN THEY VALUE FOOD. 

It really did strike a chord with me. One of those concepts that is so absurdly simple that you can't figure out why it never occurred to you before.

I obviously value food, since I tend to overindulge and use it for other reasons than keeping me alive. And I simply ignore what my food choices are doing to me and my body.

When Steph declines sour cream, cheese and whipped cream, she knows they are all fattening, and to her the risk of putting on weight isn't worth it. For me and my fat-loving taste buds, I just want to be in the moment and enjoy the salty cheesiness, creamy sourness and rich sweetness, fat be damned.

But look at the payoff. Steph and Lisa get to enjoy wearing what they like and looking fab. They don't have to obsess when the warm weather comes about flabby legs and poochy bellies. They get to tuck in their shirts and wear snug jeans and fitted sweaters and shorts and swimsuits and so on. My payoff ends with the last bite. Big woo. Is that worth it?

I say no.

Several more successes

I continue to feel good, and I'm surprising myself with some very good choices.

Last night I made cheeseburgers for dinner. Anyone who knows me knows I LOVE cheeseburgers. I had also baked up some frozen french fries and had some raw broccoli and carrots on the table, along with some pineapple. (My family as a whole has determined to eat more fruits and vegetables.)

I served up my kids' plates, then got my own. I fixed up my burger, then looked at the baking sheet of fries and realized I didn't want any. When I eat out, and my entree includes fries, the fries are usually the first thing to go. But this time, I just didn't want any.

So, I went to the table and cut my burger in half, got some veggies on my plate, and ate and chatted with my kiddos.

I finished half my burger and looked down at the other half - and decided I was full! Unheard of.

Oh, and we went to Bob Evans for breakfast and I didn't eat six or seven plates of food like I have in past, trying to get a bit of savory eggs and sweet pancakes and delicious biscuits. I had two eggs, one strip of bacon (gave the rest to my husband and son), some of my potatoes and one biscuit. Amazing to me. Seriously.

This morning I was feeling completely drained, and my first thought was, "I'm going to lay down." But then, my second thought was, "I'm going to go for a walk." Which I did.

I've been having these moments for the past few days, and it's exhilarating. I'm leaving food on my plate, I'm wanting to move around more. It's just been changing my focus from a number on the scale or a label in my clothes and having a date on the calendar looming over my head, to each day or each meal at a time, and just being mindful of my fullness/hunger.

Tonight, my daughter wanted a treat of some kind. We really don't have any sweets in the house right now, so I suggested that after dinner, maybe we could walk to the corner store and she and her brother could pick something out. Not DRIVE to the ice cream parlor, but walk to the store. It's less than a mile, but still. Walking is walking.

So we head out. It's a beautiful sunny day here in Michigan and we enjoy our walk and chat. They each pick out candy, and I pick out a treat for my husband and for myself, GUM.

Again, thank you, Lord, for your strength.

Small successes

My new "one day at a time" philosophy has been working.

Tuesday night, as I was showering and getting ready for bed, I remembered that there were leftover pancakes in the fridge. I love pancakes, so when I also remembered we had fresh blueberries to put on top of them, I was extra excited.

Then I thought, I'm not really hungry for pancakes, or for anything for that matter. I'm just right.

But, of course, the rationalizing voice in my head whined, "But I waaaant them."

I almost gave in, but I scolded myself about the fact that I want to have a healthy relationship with food and that I've been talking about using God's strength to get me through temptation, and this was the perfect opportunity to do just that - am I'm going to be obstinate and willful instead? Just for pancakes? Ridiculous!

So, no pancakes. I went to the living room and got out my laptop and worked on my manuscript, and after about 45 minutes I realized that I hadn't even thought about the pancakes the entire time I was working. Thanks, God.

At work yesterday, I was very mindful of my hunger and fullness. I was enjoying some oatmeal at about 10 a.m., and though there was about 1/4 of a bowl left, I realized I was full. So, I decided to take one last bite and made sure it was a yummy one with lots of cinnamon. I was proud of the fact that I realized my fullness and conscoiusly took the last bite; so often I mindlessly eat and eat and then I'm bummed when I get to the end because I hadn't even been paying attention to the food.

I ate lunch around 2, and I had an apple on my desk to enjoy as a snack later in the afternoon, but I never ate it. I was pretty hungry when I got home, but I told myself dinner would be ready soon and I would enjoy it all the more if I was actually hungry. I didn't dig into the chip bag while I was cooking.

At dinner, I enjoyed my food the way I like it - baked potato with butter and sour cream, corn on the cob with butter and salt - I simply ate until I was full. Well, almost. I had baked up a pan of yeast rolls, which are SO good, but anyone who knows me knows that I have a mold allergy and things like bread, yogurt, aged cheese ... anything fermented (even over-ripe fruit) can make me feel sickish and/or really, really sleepy. I had enjoyed two of the rolls (they were small, maybe a little bigger than a golf ball), but my downfall was deciding to have just one more. I didn't need it. I was satisfied, but I was lulled by that sweet, doughy taste.

I had already decided on my way home that I was going to walk since it was so beautiful out. As I changed into shorts and sneakers, I felt sick to my stomach. The only thing I can figure is that it was the extra roll. I was quite nauseated, but I determined not to make an excuse to cancel my walk. I also took a longer route, and I was tired and a bit sore at the end of it, but pleased.

This is the way I want to be mindful of food, in a positive, good-for-me way, not in an obsessive, cravings sort of way. I feel good.

One Day at a Time

As I'm approaching yet another failed weight loss goal date -- and as I realize that I don't think I've ever really met a weight loss goal date -- I recognize that I'm doing this all wrong.

I made a goal in January that I would fit into a particular pair of jeans by June 1. Today is May 31, and I don't fit into those jeans. I mean, I'm an 18 and the jeans are 16, so it's not terrible. No, it is terrible when I say it like that because that means I had six months to drop ONE SIZE and I failed.

Ugh.

I know conventional advice is make a long-term goal, then make a few short-term goals and reward yourself along the way, reevaluate at the halfway point, etc., etc.

That just doesn't work for me. I think that every time I've made a goal to lose X pounds or be a certain size by a certain date, I don't accomplish it. I need to figure out why that is. I know I'm one of the world's greatest rationalizers, so I'll inevitably make excuses for why I can eat a certain treat or slack off on a workout - because I have time before the goal date so I can make up for it by being "extra good" tomorrow or doing a double workout the next day (for the record, I've never done a double workout in my entire life).

In addition, I think I'm way too focused on appearance -- what's jiggling, what's flat, what's bulging, how do I look in this outfit. If I'm going to an event of some type and I feel fat, that peppers the entire event for me and every interaction at the event. I walk in, self-conscious that everyone is noticing how fat I look, including people who've never met me. I talk to someone, and I'm sure he/she is focused on the flab on my arms. I eat something, and I'm certain that everyone around me is critiquing what's on my plate.

First of all, how vain is that? Gag. I need to get a grip and realize that I'm not being noticed anywhere near as often or as much as I think (or worry) I am. Sure, there may be people who look at me and think briefly that I'm overweight, but it's the truth, so ... what?

Second of all,  by keeping my focus inward, I'm totally missing out on the enjoyment of the event, the people I'm seeing, the fun of the day.

I need to drop the whole goal date thing and simply get through one day at a time, maybe even one meal at a time. One thing I remember from OA is the principle that I can do anything for 24 hours that would seem impossible to maintain over a long period of time.

No more diets, no more calorie or carb counting, no more obsessive weighing in. I'm not a label in a pair of jeans or a number on a scale. I'm looking forward to simply having a healthy relationship with food and relying on God's strength each day.

Things that make you go, "Hmmm."

Re: Title - I know that can be a tired cliche, but it works for this post.

I came across a couple things in some chick lit I've been listening to lately that made me stop and think for a minute. (I may even have actually went "Hmmm.")

(Yes, I listen to books instead of reading. I'm finishing up my own manuscript, and whenever I sit down to read a book, I feel guilty that I'm not using that time to write a book. Plus, by using audioboooks, I get to enjoy novels at times when reading wouldn't be possible, e.g., driving to/from work, doing dishes, cooking, cleaning the house, folding laundry. It makes these things more tolerable.)

Anyway, one novel (Secrets of a Shoe Addict by Beth Harbison) has a character who is an emotional eater. She recently gained back some weight she had lost the year before using Weight Watchers, and was lamenting the gain along with the fact that she was tired of being single.

As she thinks about the dating scene, she knows that first impressions are so important, and she makes the statement that being overweight gives the "impression of a lack of self-care."

That struck me. Is that really the impression I want to give? A lack of self-care?

Another novel (Second Chances by Jane Green) features a character who is a recovering alcoholic. She's active in AA, and mentions one of the premises of AA being that members acknowledge that they are powerless in and of themselves to overcome their addiction so they rely on the strength of a higher power to get them through each day.

Though I'm not an alcoholic, this section resonated with me because a long, long time ago, I used to attend OA (Overeaters Anonymous) meetings. I remember admitting that I was powerless over food and that I needed to rely on my higher power (God) to get me through each day. Why have I forgotten that? Why am I jumping from diet to diet, from diet book to diet website, even going so far in my desperation to read through an entire ad for some crazy weight loss drug and actually consider ordering it?

Philippians 4:13
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. (New King James Version)

That is more like a "thing that makes you want to thump yourself on the forehead and go, 'Am I an idiot?'"

Another thing that caught me by surprise didn't come from a book, but through a game of soccer with my son. We went to a park on Sunday afternoon, and he had a soccer with him. He asked me to play, and I declined. After watching him for a few minutes, I felt bad that he was off playing alone and I was just being a lazy bum, so I played for a bit. And get this ... I actually RAN. Yep, I ran, sometimes quickly to try and catch up with him, sometimes at a more leisurely pace, but run I did.

And I survived.

And here's the real kicker: I actually enjoyed it.

There was one moment when my son was running off to get a ball that was out of bounds, and while I was waiting for him, I noticed a burning in my chest that I remembered getting back in high school when I used to run and was rather fit. It wasn't completely uncomfortable, and it made me realize that I baby myself way too much when it comes to exercise. I tell myself I can't run on my treadmill because I'm too fat, so I engage in a more leisurely walk instead. I tell myself I can't take the four-mile walking route because it'll be too much for me - after all, I'm fat and out of shape - so I do the two-mile route instead. I tell myself I can't add another level to my step aerobic bench because I'm too out of shape, it'll be too hard.

But shouldn't exercising for the sake of losing weight BE kind of hard?

Big, significant "hmmms."