Stepping on the Gallows

Why is it that I equate the doctor's scale to the gallows? I suppose it makes sense: from early childhood that act of stepping on the scale was so full of humiliation and shame, there were times it felt worse than execution, because I had to walk off and either face the disgust and ridicule of my other classmates or look forward to a brow-beating or downright abuse from my doctor. In some wild coincidence my daughter had weigh-in day at school this week, but thank God for her, she doesn't face this embarrassing, mind-scarring experience because her weight falls within society's "normal" range. As bad as it was in my day, at least I didn't get a letter sent home berating my parents for having a fat child with an unacceptable BMI, like they do now.

Why this focus on the scale today? This afternoon is my doctor's appointment to see how my Wellbutrin is doing. I'm not concerned about this: I feel great on it. But I know Dr. Amy is going to weigh me when I walk in, and right now I think I'd rather climb on the gallows mentioned above.

So as to be prepared for this moment, this morning I stepped on the scale at home. I was actually kind of expecting to see a little bit of a loss, or at least stay close to the same from the weigh-in at my last doctor's appointment. Since starting the Wellbutrin I haven't had a full-blown binge, I feel like I've been eating less, and I've been slowly building back up on my physical activity. So I thought it would have had a positive affect.

Oh, foolish me! I actually weighed more. A lot more.

I just wanted to sit down on the bathroom floor and cry. It hit me in the gut like a big nasty glob of shame, anger and sadness, dipped in a crunchy coating of failure. I felt like I was watching all the hard work, dedication and sacrifice I've given over the past three years slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.

But then my anger, which was originally towards myself for screwing up so royally, changed direction. I was furious that the day before I was feeling great about myself, yet a number on a machine could ruin all of that. Why, after all the time, after all I've tried to learn in this Intuitive Eating journey, do I still let myself be emotionally devastated by a number on a scale?

Of course my mind race with diet mentality thoughts: "that's it, I've got to start losing all this weight, I've got to count calories again, I need to exercise two hours a day, I've got to do something about this!" But even thinking these thoughts initiated those old fears of deprivation, and I knew this wasn't the answer.

I have to take a big breath and think clearly about all of this. This weigh-in was just a record of one day, one moment in time. It doesn't reflect the process I'm undergoing. And let's face it: it took me months to gain all this weight (and I'm sorry, I'm so embarrassed by how much it is that I can't even begin to post how much), so it's probably going to take even longer to undo the damage I did. Certainly more than two weeks!

I can't let this reading discourage me and make me feel awful. I have to remember all the positive things I'm doing right now -- yoga, incorporating healthier foods, increasing my exercise -- and realize I'm doing this for my mental and physical health, not my weight or dress size.

I have to get going -- I've got a ton of work to do today. I'll let you know how the appointment goes.

Signs of Progress

My husband has been complaining for some time about our bathroom scale. It is a digital scale, and apparently the battery is dying, because the weight measurements are wildly off.

I got on this morning to see for myself. My first weight was way too high, 30 to 40 pounds higher than I expected. Then I got on again and it was fluctuating somewhere between 90-100 pounds. Um, yeah, time to change the battery!

After putting in a new 9-volt battery, I tried the scale again. After seeing the reading, I tried it one more time, just to make sure it was accurate again. I noted that I've lost about 4 to 5 pounds from my post-vacation high.

While this was good news, I was pleased that I didn't go into squeals of delight and dance around the house the rest of the morning. I don't want to get into that losing weight "high" that led me into the diet/binge cycle. I took it as a sign that my body is slowly beginning to self-regulate now that I'm not binge eating, and I'm trying not to attach anything else to it.

I had my first therapy session in a month yesterday, and I was trying to explain to her how this medicine has seemingly turned off a lot of the compulsive thoughts that had taken over my brain. Here's an example: last night after Mabel's gymnastics practice, she was hungry, so we stopped at the grocery store nearby. She picked out some chocolate chip cookies from the bakery and we each had one on the way home. We both were satisfied after the one, although I had to think about it a little bit. The habit, the old behavior would have been to eat two, three or four because the sensations of eating are so pleasurable. But I realized that eating more would not make the experience any better, just longer. So I let it go and I was okay with that.

I was at work for a few hours this morning when I realized I completely forgot about the cookies in the house. Last night I had thought about bringing one or two in the office with me for a snack, but today their presence in my home totally slipped my mind. The old compulsive me would have had those things calling to me all night. Now I can't even remember where I put them!

For years I've always wished that I could be nonchalant about food, one of those people who forget to eat a meal or can shrug off typical tempting foods like cake, cookies, etc. I can't imagine not remembering to eat, but I do seem to be letting go of some of my obsessiveness with both food and my weight.

But who knows? Maybe someday I'll realize I haven't binged or weighed myself in six months or more. But I can't focus on the future; I'm in recovery now, the signs of progress are all around me, and that's the important thing.

Go Ask Alice

Even though this is a personal blog and I'm here to write about my personal experiences, my feelings and reflections on life, I have to admit I do a bit of censoring. Because this is out there on the World Wide Web and I don't know exactly who is reading this, I keep some things private: my daughter's and husband's first names or faces, our last name, exactly where we go to work or to school. I really don't want that personal information out their for people to access.

But I've also been keeping some issues off of this blog. I've alluded to them from time to time, but because it involves other people I don't go into details. It's really not for the public domain, and I don't want anything I say here coming back to haunt me.

However, these issues (along with the ones I do mention openly here) have been getting worse lately, as you can tell from my Saturday run-away-from-home freak-out. Since then my nerves have been shot; every little minuscule irritation has been a major event, and every time I think I can get through a day without some incident setting me off, I seem to get sandbagged when I least expect it. Then came this morning.

It's been several years since I had a full-blown anxiety attack. But I recognized it oh so well; the shaking hands, the racing pulse, the panicky thoughts and feelings of helplessness and being overwhelmed by everything. It's a scary thing.

And it made me realize that yep, today, July 12, I have hit the wall. I have been doing everything I can to get me through these issues: the talk therapy, the cognitive behavioral therapy and biofeedback involved in Intuitive Eating; relaxation techniques and meditation; journal writing here on the blog and reaching out to others in online IE groups. But despite all of this, I seem to be spiraling into this vortex of stress and anxiety and can't seem to find a way out.

So I picked up the telephone with my shaky hands and called my doctor's office. They had an appointment open this afternoon, and I took it.

I had two surprises when I went to the appointment. Number one, despite what felt like a horribly racing pulse, my blood pressure was 130/80. A little high, but much lower than I expected with as wired as I felt.

The other thing was the weight. Granted, I'm not thrilled with 224, about 10 pounds higher than what I was maintaining before my vacation, but I have maintained that weight ever since, which is better than continuing to gain.

The doctor came in and asked what was up, and I wished I had this blog to hand to her and say, "Here, read this." But I gave her the five-minute summary and let her know about the binge eating, the intuitive eating approach and my escalating stress and anxiety. I think she was impressed when I brought up my Internet reading on medications for anxiety in combination with eating disorders and the common use of SSRI drugs for treatment. These include Prozac, Paxil, Lexapro, among others.

After some discussion of my symptoms, both with the General Anxiety Disorder (oh joy, another label) and the Binge Eating Disorder, it was agreed that I would try Lexapro. Apparently this drug is supposed to have less side effects and is tolerated better than some of the other SSRIs. She gave me a three-week sample, and I'm to go back in two weeks to see how I'm doing.

My doctor commented twice that she was impressed with my "insight" and thought I was on the right track with the methods I'm taking to recover.

I'm trying not to see this as defeat, but rather taking care of myself the best way I know how. Yes, I've hit a low point emotionally, but I was able to recognize immediately when it was getting beyond my capabilities to handle alone and when I needed some help. And maybe this is what I need to do to get me through what is becoming the most difficult challenge of my life.

I don't expect any magic results from this or any other pill. I don't expect my anxiety or urges to binge to miraculously disappear. But if this medicine can take the edge off my frazzled nerves and help me work through what's causing the anxiety and urges to binge, then it can be a tool in my growing bag of tricks to beat this thing.

Thanks to Lori for not only helping to get me through this harrowing day, but for giving me the title for today's post. Mabel and I just watched "Alice in Wonderland" a few days ago, so when Lori gave me this title, it made me smile and remember just how wacky that book and movie is. And of course I can't forget the killer song by Jefferson Airplane.

Today wasn't great. It could have been worse. Things will get better.

I Believe In Fairy Tales

Why is it that after what I consider a hugely successful IE day, the next day I fall flat on my face? Could it be that even though on the surface I feel great that I've eaten intuitively, on a deep subconscious level I'm still feeling deprived? This deprivation then inevitably leading me to overeating or binge eating the next day, week or month.

The incident I'm talking about was Friday afternoon. I had one of those great days off where I leisurely cleaned the house, taking breaks here and there in between the dusting, sweeping, dusting, etc. Breakfast was OK, lunch too, then I hit mid afternoon and found myself free-falling with a box of Girl Scout cookies that I unearthed from the freezer. The whole box! It's a miracle I didn't eat the cardboard and the plastic bag, too!

However, I will say that this moment of overeating did not lead me into a full-blown binge. At supper I ate two pieces of pizza and was quite content with that. While I bought a three different snacks for the drive-in movies (a double feature with the new Fantastic Four movie and Ocean's Thirteen), I only opened one and ate a small portion of it. I knew I didn't want any more and I put everything away and was fine the rest of the night.

Still, those cookies haunted me. Today I've felt a sense of guilt all day, and in a stupid, stupid move I hopped on the scale in the middle of the day and was bowled over by the reading. I suppose I did it out of some perverse punishment for the cookies -- "See what a bad girl you've been!" -- and I definitely felt like a naughty child who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

To add insult to injury, I let myself get totally bummed out when my in-laws showed up with their daughter and her two girls. SIL and the nieces live far away and only visit a few times a year. Well, this SIL has lost 4o pounds with WW, and MIL was really gushing over this accomplishment and getting her to tell us all about it. Hubby then chimed in with his 20 pound weight loss with the Meridia, and as they sat there comparing notes on their successes I felt like a great big fat failure.

I know, you're probably sitting there frowning at the screen and thinking, "Andrea, how can you let this get you so upset? You know better!" I'm even thinking it, yet I still find myself caught up in the self-bashing and the diet mentality, and unfortunately I'm still not over it.

The thing is, the rational side of me knows that I didn't let Friday fall into ruin, and today I've done very well, too. I found myself satisfied with a very tiny lunch, and I wound up bringing half of my supper home with me. Despite my bad feelings I worked hard at not depriving myself, and I made sure that I felt slightly full every time I ate. While part of me wonders if I didn't eat as much today because deep down I'm trying to diet, I wonder too if I just didn't need as much food today because I had those extra calories yesterday.

I suppose there's good news in the fact that despite the disappointment on the scale, all the dieting talk and feeling bad about overeating, not once did I seriously consider giving up IE and going back to dieting. I will confess I thought about getting more serious about my physical activity -- I've been totally lax about any kind of strength training or toning, and I've been saying "I should" for some time now -- but I still have this faith that IE will work if I give it enough time and effort. Even though lately this goal of becoming a "normal" eater feels more like an impossible goal, like wishing for a fairy tale ending, I suppose I still subscribe to the saying on my daughter's hat. (If you can't read it, it says, "I believe in fairy tales!")

See-saws and Greed

This morning I had another "dilemma" -- I was overcome once again with feelings of being fat, worrying that I was gaining weight, that the food I've been eating has not been healthy. Diet mentality all over the place. And I have to confess here that I broke my rule (I'll get back to that) about weighing once a month and got on the scale.

Instead of being devastated to see I've gained five more pounds, I discovered I lost two.

I laughed at myself. How incredibly silly to get myself so worked up! I need to have more faith in myself and in this IE method! I shook my head and got back to my morning routine.

During my shower I thought about Linda Moran's latest posting and realized how much this incident related to it:

"You're learning normal eating, but you still see-saw between extremes. You don't know which side of the see-saw to land on. Maybe you'll recognize one of these:
...4. Weighing myself every day is what makes me crazy vs. weighing myself is how to stay accountable...
Here's a suggestion. Identify your see-saw. Then surrender to the fact that it may never go away. You might learn normal eating, and still struggle with the see-saw. Then demote your see-saw in its importance."

Obviously I'm struggling with the craziness of weighing myself two or three times a day and the occasional weighing in just to provide a status report. I have a see-saw that has "don't weigh" on one side and "weigh myself" on the other.

I'm pretty sure part of the anxiety I was feeling before was the fact that I made a RULE about weighing myself once a month. While the thought behind it was good -- to get myself away from focusing on a number -- I was fighting against the strictness of making it a set number of days.

Linda wraps up her post with some good advice for me: "Today when you get caught on your see-saw, laugh at yourself, and then ask and answer 'How important is it really for me to resolve this once and for all? Not important enough.' Then decide for the moment where to land. Tomorrow you can decide again. Keep laughing. See-saws are fun. Don't try and get it right once and for all. It's just not important enough."

This is such good advice for me -- definitely pushing away from the all-or-nothing, absolutist thinking. Today I landed on the "weigh myself" side of the see-saw. Tomorrow I will probably land on the "don't weigh" side. This issue is minor for me in the grand scheme of this IE journey, so there's really no point in obsessing and getting so upset about it.

Yesterday's big challenge was the Greed Factor, and I did pretty well with it. At lunch I split a sandwich and onion rings with Hubby, which went well, because I didn't feel deprived because I was only getting half of a meal. I was actually quite satisfied getting the foods I wanted, but getting reasonable portions.

Then in the evening we went to our town's Block Party -- a week-long carnival to benefit our volunteer fire department. For our supper I got a hamburger and split one order of fries with Mabel. In previous years I would have ordered a burger for me, two orders of fries, and I would have ordered a hot dog for Mabel, knowing she would eat very little of it and I could then eat the rest -- GREED. This year I didn't stuff myself and felt quite content. As for Mabel's meal, she had a big, well balanced lunch, so I felt it balanced out over the whole day.


Mabel then went to the rides, and I found myself left to my own devices, since I get such bad motion sickness on most carnival rides. There were lots of temptations -- slices of pie from the Women's Auxiliary, funnel cakes, candy apples -- but I wasn't hungry and knew I'd be back later in the week and could eat one of them then. I wound up walking laps around the carnival, people watching and keeping an eye on Mabel as she cavorted with her friends (all boys, I noticed!).

I ran into some friends and acquaintances and chatted, and later my B&SIL showed up and I sat with them for a while. They ordered a big funnel cake and offered me some. For a second the diet mentality sprang up -- "Don't eat that! BAD FOOD!" -- but I decided to try one bite. I did, and it was good, but not fantastic, and I wasn't interested in having any more. If I had resisted I could have very well set off Deprivation Mode, snuck off before I left, bought my own and scarfed down the whole thing.

Now that I think about it, each day in this IE journey is like a see-saw -- balancing between hunger and fullness, my thoughts about food and dieting and weight, and navigating my emotions and the thoughts and beliefs behind them. Who needs carnival rides when you've got this constant adventure?

Balance The Scales

Last night as I was preparing for bed I realized tomorrow (now today) was the first of the month, and I thought maybe I should weigh myself, then do it once a month on the first. I thought monthly weigh-ins would be a reasonable, just to check in and see how things are going.

What anxiety this produced! I was beside myself worrying that I was going to be so disappointed by the scale reading. I was sure it was going to be up 5, 10, even 15 pounds, and I just didn't think I could handle it if it was.

Then I thought of something Karen Koenig repeats over and over again in her Food and Feelings Workbook: I can bear feeling (insert emotion here) and any other feelings. If I weigh myself and I've gained a bunch of weight, I might be sad, disappointed, maybe even a little angry or afraid. It might not be pleasant, but feeling these emotions won't kill me. I can bear these feelings. Really!

Even though IE teaches you to not focus on the scale and numbers, it also teaches to face your feelings. And the only way I could see to face this fear head-on and truly feel it was to go ahead and get on the scale.

I mean, I know I'm supposed to make the scale less important and not weigh myself three times a day like I was. But, on the other hand, isn't it also making the scale too important when I make it such a frightening, all powerful machine that controls my thoughts and emotions? The way I see it, IE is all about balance, so it seems right for me to find some kind of middle ground when it comes to the bathroom scale. Hence the once a month weigh-in.

So, with lots of apprehension, I stepped on the scale this morning. And yes, as predicted, I did gain. But only one pound.

I left out a huge sigh of relief and stepped off the scale, glad I had taken the plunge and pushed past my fears. One pound was such a small amount, such a normal fluctuation, that I could see it only as a measure of the success and power of Intuitive Eating. I have been at this a month now, and to have stayed within a 5-pound range is amazing to me. In the past, me taking a month off from dieting would have meant the 10, 15-pound gain I mentioned above, because I would have gone off the deep end with rebound overeating.

I don't think I could have a better Month One Report than the one I'm giving. My binges have decreased, I'm legalizing all foods, and I'm eating until I'm satisfied or pleasantly full the majority of the time. I'm still exercising but doing it for the enjoyment (physical and mental benefits) and not focusing on the weight-loss aspect of it. I've made a lot of important discoveries about myself in regards to eating and emotions, and I've learned lots of new techniques to work through the uncomfortable emotions and find ways to relax.

It's not always easy, it sometimes feels like a hell of a lot of work, and there are days I'd like to forget about it all and just sit on the couch and eat ice cream until I burst. But I know this work is important, I know it's making a difference, and in the end it will give me a fuller, more meaningful life.

From Scales to Compliments

The last time I weighed myself was last Wednesday. At the time I told myself I'd wait until this Wednesday (the 23rd) to weigh again. Wednesday came and I really didn't want to do it, and I told myself to wait until Friday.

Well, Friday arrived this morning and I still didn't want to do it. But unlike last week, I wasn't having anxiety attacks about gaining a ton of weight. I didn't want to weigh myself because I don't want to run the risk of diminishing my progress. I've been doing so well with Intuitive Eating, and I don't want to attribute that to a number; I want to gauge my success on a lessening of diet mentality thoughts, honoring my hunger and my emotions, and a decrease in binges. Either way the scale goes, that reading will sabotage what I'm trying to accomplish: if I've gained I might get depressed and down on myself, and if I've lost weight, it will tempt me to start treating this like another diet and I will once again fall into my perfectionist thinking.

And I have to admit this: I'm starting to like it when I don't have a number that defines my day. Being ecstatic on a 205 day and full of self-loathing on a 220 day is ridiculous when you really think about it, isn't it? That number doesn't change my personality, my identity, and why should I let it affect my mood and my opinion of myself? It's such a destructive, demoralizing thing to do, yet I was doing it to myself all the time. Enough, I say!

It's not like I don't know in general terms that I'm staying relatively stable weight-wise. I wake up in the morning and I'm not bloated like a soaked sponge from binge eating the night before. My clothes still fit. People are still commenting that I'm looking good. I may have gone up or even gone down a few pounds, but not enough to make a noticeable difference. So why worry about it?

Mentioning comments, a few days ago a lady I know (actually one of my husband's cousins -- life in a small town) told me how good I looked and asked me if I was still losing weight.

"Not really," I replied.
"Are you still dieting?" she asked.
"No, not anymore," I said, not sure how to answer. "I still exercise regularly, and..."
"... and watch what you eat?" she finished for me.
"Sort of," I said, shrugging my shoulders.
"Well, you definitely look great," she said as we parted ways.

I don't know how much I should say about Intuitive/Conscious Eating. I don't know if people will write it off as another diet, or if people will scoff at the notion of eating whatever I want whenever I feel hungry. The lady I was talking to has always been a big woman, and I have no idea about her history (if she's dieted a lot, if she's accepted herself as she is, etc.). I don't feel like I should take an evangelistic approach with this and try to convert people to IE. While I'd love to "save" people from the diet mentality, it's not my place to shove it down people's throats. But if anyone's interested in it, I'd love to share my insights. It's just hard to know how people will react.

On another related note, I had a funny experience with getting dressed this morning. I got a pair of my 18-20 shorts out from storage and put them on. Well, I looked like one of those people in the "after" picture in the diet ads, holding the waist band and examining the chasm between it and my body. This surprised me, because these shorts used to run on the tight side, especially when I first bought them (of course, I was 23oish at the time). They fit loose but comfortable everywhere else, but that waist was way too baggy, so I then tried to find a belt in my closet. After scrounging around I found one and put it on, only to discover the belt was way too big, too! I would have had to bore a hole in the belt a good 4 or 5 inches from the last notch to make it work.

So I gave up and put on a pair of shorts I bought a few weeks ago. These were a little snug when I bought them, and I originally didn't put them on because I was sure with all this food legalizing going on and the Saturday binge they would be too tight. But they fit the same, which was a pleasant surprise. The best news of all is, instead of propelling me into diet mode, this confirmed for me that what I'm doing is working.

*****

I'm coming back after a couple hours because the office got very busy. In that time two more people stopped by the office and commented on how good I look. I had to tell you about the one "compliment," from an older lady in our congregation:
"You sure are looking good now!"
"Thanks," I replied.
"You must've lost a lot of weight."
"Yeah, over the last couple years."
"Because you sure weren't looking good at all a while ago!"

Hmmm, how do you answer that? The pastor was in the room at the time, and we both just kind of stared at her in shocked silence. But it didn't phase her. People like that don't realize they've stuck their foot in their mouths, even when the shoelaces are dangling down their throats. Oh well. At least I look good to her now.

Hard Work

I never got back to post again last night. It turned out we had tickets to a Cash Night held by a local fraternal organization. You buy tickets with a number that corresponds to a numbered ball. They pick each number in random and you've got a chance to win cash or a door prize. There were also other games of chance: 50/50 (where the winner gets half the money collected from ticket sales) and chances on a grandfather clock.

My sweet, absent-minded husband never told me he bought these tickets, and he must have forgotten about them completely, because his mother called me at work yesterday to remind us about it. At first I really didn't want to go, but a bunch of our friends were going, and my daughter had an invitation to spend the evening at a friend's house, so I surrendered and went to the dinner.

The meal that went with this event was prepared by the same group that made the Mother-Daughter banquet meal I went to a few weeks ago. They're all about the comfort food -- mashed potatoes, corn, dressing, gravy. The meat this time was Swiss steak -- basically floured meat covered in gravy. Real healthy meal, if your idea of healthy is consuming a meal almost entirely comprised of carbohydrates. There was the meat, of course, and we did have applesauce, but otherwise? An utter Starch-tacular.

Of course that doesn't change the fact that it was completely delicious, and I definitely dived right in. I observed during the meal that I pretty much ate the same amount as those who I consider "normal" eaters. However, that meant we all overate. While I knew when I hit the satisfaction level on my new hunger/fullness scale, the taste of the food kept me going past that. When I reached the full mark, I did recognize it and knew to stop before I got to the uncomfortably stuffed stage.

That didn't stop me from feeling a little guilty about it, at least for a few minutes. That's definitely something I'm trying to learn as I explore intuitive eating: how to remove guilt when I overeat and accomplishment if I deprive myself. Because that sense of achievement from "going without" always winds up twisting into resentment, which then leads me way past overeating into binge territory. And then I really feel guilty. So I reminded myself that it was just one meal, and I had been able to use it as another chance to read my body's signals.

The good news about the event is that Hubby won the 50/50 drawing, and I won a $10 gift certificate! Plus I got to talk and laugh with my friends, so overall it was a good night.

This morning I woke up with what I'm thinking is not allergies but a cold. I'm really stuffed up and my body's dragging. I'm drinking lots of tea and trying to take it easy, although work isn't helping much with that.

I got home for lunch today and didn't have any real plan for lunch. I looked around the kitchen and wound up having a serving of Guiltless Gourmet tortilla chips and salsa, but after that portion I didn't want any more. But I knew I hadn't reached my level of satisfaction, so I then had two apple flautas, and then I felt good. My head quite isn't there, and I know it's that "I'm sick, so comfort me with food" syndrome. But since my stomach's content, I'm not going that route. After I'm done posting I'm going to lay down and take a short nap until I have to get Mabel and take her for her allergy shot.

While I'm glad that I'm not dieting, I'm realizing that this Intuitive Eating has its own hard work behind it. It's hard to break the diet mentality. I'm still checking out food labels on new foods, but it's mainly to see what the portion sizes are. Most of the IE literature talks about recognizing portion sizes and learning that smaller amounts of your favorite foods can often be just as satisfying, if not more so, when you learn to fully enjoy and savor them without guilt or fear of gaining weight. Before I started IE I found it interesting to see what fuzzy math these food companies do to make their labels look good. Yeah, there's only 100 calories per serving of Brand X, but they don't tell you that the single package you hold in your hand is 2.5 servings! Tricky buggers.

There's also the scale factor. After yesterday's weigh-in, I'm going to try to go for a whole week again. I almost made it last time, so I think it ought to get easier as time goes on.

But the hardest work is the effort it takes to stay in tune with my body. After spending most of my life ignoring it, whether I was overfeeding it or starving it, it's difficult to reconnect to the hunger and fullness signals it was trying in vain to send me. There are days I just don't want the extra work. I realize that this is sad, because for truly intuitive eaters, it comes as naturally as knowing when you're tired or when you have to use the restroom.

I realize now that I'm the one who has made this so difficult. To continue the simile above, when I'm sleepy I don't feel guilty about it, I know my body needs rest and I do my best to get it. When my bladder's full, I don't second-guess it and tell myself I'll be a better person if I hold it an extra hour. I'm the one who has added all the negative connotations to a natural process. I'm the one who has judged my worth as a human being on an involuntary physical need.

So now I need to get rid of all of that mental clutter I've collected around hunger and eating. And there's where the hardest work truly is.

Can Your Head Really Explode?

What a morning. I don't know if it was the TOTM headache I woke up with, the rain, or the fact that I'm getting backed up at work and everyone and their uncle has been calling my office, but I really thought for a few minutes that my head might actually explode.

Fortunately, the ibuprofen I took is kicking in and I'm starting to feel a little better. I'm chipping away at the piles of work around me, but I'm still wading through it and trying to figure out how I'm going to get it all done.

In a sick twist of fate, my deadline week for the monthly church newsletter, entitled "The Visitor," has been coinciding the last several months with my monthly visitor. I swear this adds to my aggravation levels each month as I wait around for my regular procrastinators to get their information to me, or else the other people whose psychic powers propel them to call me with all kinds of crazy, last-minute requests when my workload is already at its maximum. Today for about an hour, maybe 90 minutes, the phone seemed to ring every two minutes. Included in this chaos was two calls each from my husband and his mother. No emergencies or urgent reasons, just odd things that really could have waited until I got home. Can you say OVERLOAD?

I should be working right now, but I had to take a few minutes to collect myself and decompress. I'm kind of disappointed a little because I ate my morning snack earlier during the phone call madness and didn't get to enjoy it much. I was legitimately hungry then, so I wasn't eating it for emotional reasons, but there were too many distractions going on and it took away from the enjoyment of it. I should have put it away and saved it for later, but the physical signs of hunger were there and I didn't want to get in the "too hungry" category, which would have made things even worse.

Well, this morning I finally broke down and got back on the scale. I wanted to wait until Friday, making it a week, but I'm pretty pleased I made it five whole days. While the lingering diet mentality thoughts had made me hope for a lower number, it was exactly what I expected it to be, just by judging how I felt. This is actually a good sign because not only does it mean I'm pretty in tune with my body, but that I'm basically in a maintenance mode right now. That's a huge relief to me, because in the days that I didn't weigh I kept having these concerns that eating what I wanted was going to shoot my weight up astronomically.

While I know it's a good thing to back off on weighing myself, I did discover that as time went on I was actually afraid to get back on the scale, because of these fears of gaining weight. While I don't want to be obsessively weighing myself three times a day, I don't want to be in avoidance mode because I'm filled with worry and dread, either. Hopefully in time I will reach the point that what I weigh just doesn't matter to me anymore. It seems very difficult, however.

Well, I better get back to work here. I have more to say, but I guess it will have to wait. At least my head feels better. Maybe this afternoon I'll try to get back online in between loads of laundry and other housework. An AFG's work is never done...

Fair to Middling

Last night Mabel wanted Chinese for dinner (again), so we went to Johnstown (yes, home of the famous flood). The Chinese buffet nearest to us is kind of limited, plus I wanted to take Mabel clothes shopping since almost all of last year's summer clothes are too small, so we made the 35-minute trek there.

On the way Mabel brought her teeny bopper CDs along and we listened to several songs. One of them by Vanessa Hudgens really struck me, and I keep thinking about the lyrics and how it relates to my new enterprise. I know, you can put any interpretation to song lyrics, but I'm in an interpretive frame of mind right now.

I won't say last night was perfect, but of course perfect isn't what I'm aiming for anymore. Chinese is what it is -- loaded with sodium and oily, depending on which dish you get. I ate until I was full -- not stuffed to the gills until I was ill, but I didn't stop at merely "satisfied," either. I guess you call that "fair to middling." Which is all right. I didn't eat anything else the rest of the evening, although the old voices of binges gone by did beckon. But my body just didn't want it.

And today has been going pretty well, too. It's definitely better than some Saturdays when I've already crammed two days' worth of food into my gullet by this time of the day. Hubby is finally home after a week full of baseball games, so he's outside planting the garden right now (or at least trying to before the rain starts), and we've already decided we're cooking supper tonight. He hasn't had a home cooked meal in a week, and I'm glad we can make some healthy yummy things (BBQ chicken breasts, baked sweet potato fries and salad) together for a change. Then we're all heading for the drive-in movie theater to see a double feature of "Ghost Rider" and "Spider Man 3."

It's looking doubtful that I'll post tomorrow, because I'm taking my mom shopping for Mother's Day in Pittsburgh. She's jonesing for a trip to Barnes & Noble and Panera Bread, plus we'll hit some other fun places, too. Should be fun!

On a last note, I didn't weigh myself this morning. While part of me is curious about what the scale would have said after my Chinese last night, I have to admit that it was nice to not have a number assigned to my day for once. I might just get used to this...

Quelling the Diet Mentality

Beula asked in my earlier post about the book I read on Friday. It's The Rules of "Normal" Eating: A Commonsense Approach for Dieters, Overeaters, Emotional Eaters and Everyone In Between! by Karen R. Koenig. I picked up the book last year when I saw the title and realized I'm pretty much a combination of everything listed!

I am now starting the arduous process of getting through her workbook, The Food and Feelings Workbook: A Full Course Meal on Emotional Health. I say arduous because it forces you to stop every few minutes and concentrate on your feelings at that moment. It also has other exercises that really push you to feel feelings you may usually avoid or try to forget. I think doing the first chapter yesterday helped contribute to my mini meltdown last night, because I had a lot of emotions churned up that needed some place to go.

I must say, however, that all the books I've been reading have been adding more fodder to this project. They all have slightly different perspectives and opinions, and I don't buy in to every single person's viewpoints, but I'm definitely picking out the best ideas that apply to me.

One thing has been trying to shut down the Food Police in my head. Ever since I started reading about this, I've got my homage to Cheap Trick in my head (my apologies for its cheesiness ahead of time):
"The Food Police, they live inside of my head;
The Food Police, they come to me when I've fed;
The Food Police, they're coming to arrest me, oh no!"

It's hard not to read labels, to calculate calories, to weigh my portions. I still do it a little bit, but it's much less than a week ago. I do it more now because I now those portions usually satisfy me, and I don't want to put a lot of excess on my plate. Again, more food issues-- waste not want not! But I tell myself each time that if I'm still hungry after I eat that, I can have more. It's rare that I do, but having that "permission" seems to help keep me from feeling deprived and restricted.

The most difficult thing that I haven't been able to break yet is my daily weighing. Every single book says to get rid of the scale, hide it, throw it away, even! But I haven't been able to bring myself to do that. There's just too much anxiety there yet about gaining weight. The good news is, my weight has stayed relatively stable, which is giving me a lot of relief. So maybe I can soon start going once a week, then once a month. I don't know if I can ever stop cold turkey, but a monthly weigh in would be reasonable and not obsessive.

I'm going to end tonight's post with two positive things about my body that happened to me in the last 24 hours.
1. This morning I took Mabel's lunchbox to school because she left it in my car. I was in a rush to get back to work so I jogged from the school to my car in the parking lot. When I sat down in the car I realized I wasn't breathless at all. For me, an asthmatic since I was 8, this was a big deal.

2. Last night Hubby reached over to me in bed and after a moment said, "What part of your body am I touching?"
"My butt," I answered. "Why?"
"I don't know if you're going to take this as a compliment or an insult, but it feels too firm to be a butt!"
"Well," I replied with a laugh, "those Pilates must really be working!"

Monday Part Two

I did not mention that I've been quoted again on Angry Fat Girlz! Two times in one month; I'm really amazed that someone out there (thanks, by the way), sees my over-analyzed navel gazing as something worth sharing. But it's great that people identify and relate to what I have to say. So often in my life I've felt alone: both when I was super obese and now that I'm a "super loser."

Lori asked a question to Sunday's post that I never got to answer but has been sticking with me. She asked, "If someone else had a similar meal or dessert, would that have made you feel better or less alone?"

And you know, the more I thought about it, the more I agreed that yes, I wouldn't have felt so James Dean about it all (i.e., the lone rebel) if at least one other person had gone the healthier route with me. I talked to my friend L about it this morning. She was in our gang Saturday night and said she could tell I was getting a little frustrated by all the unhealthy eating going on while I was trying to do the right thing. Of course, that didn't stop her from doing it, but let's face it, it's not her job to make me feel good all the time. We're all adults, we all make choices, and in the end we all had a fun evening out.

She and her husband (my brother-in-law) considered Saturday night their splurge night and went back to their healthier diets on Sunday. They have been on a mission to eat healthier for several months now, when BIL's cholesterol was getting so high the doctor was considering medication (and he's only 36). Since they have made adjustments to their eating habits -- more broiled and baked lean meats instead of fatty, fried ones, lots of whole grains and a regimen of garlic supplements for BIL -- he has knocked his cholesterol down 30 points, lost a few pounds, and the doctor has said forget the meds.

This is my Hubby's brother, and I really wish some sibling rivalry would rub off here. Hubby's cholesterol is in the borderline zone, although it did drop a few points once he started cooking healthier suppers for me. But it's still not where it really should be, and with both his parents' history of heart problems (MIL had bypass surgery after a heart attack; FIL is 100% dependent on a pacemaker), and inheriting their apple shapes, the odds are good he'll run the risk of heart disease, too. My biggest fear is getting a phone call from the school where he works, telling me he collapsed and was taken to the hospital. I hope the call never comes, but I still worry.

Mentioning all this medical stuff, let me finally get to my doctor's visit. First thing was the scale, and I have to say I was a little dismayed to hear my height was 5 ft. 5 3/4 in. -- I've always been 5 ft. 6 in., so either I was slouching, or I'm shrinking. More calcium! Now!

The good news was my weight was 210 on their scale, which is at least a pound less than the last time I was there a month to six weeks ago. So I got to breathe a sigh of relief there.

The funniest/best part was when the doctor came in and immediately shook my hand, saying, "Good for you." I must have looked at him quizzically, because he added, "For the weight loss."

"Well, I keep trying," I replied.

"And it's working," he stated. "Most people are losing the battle, but not you."

Encouraging words after the last few weeks. The rest of the exam went fine and other than wanting more blood work in six months (keeping track of my thyroid levels, as well as checking my cholesterol, triglycerides, etc.), I was good to go. Who knows, I may get over my fear and loathing of doctors after all!

Monday Part One

After I posted yesterday I went back to the garage to go through more items: sorting to throw away, to give to the rummage sale or to keep. There were a bunch of my old clothes there, the big clothes from my heaviest days. I found a pair of my size 28 jeans and brought them in for Hubby to see. He was flabbergasted. I'll have to have him or Mabel take a picture of me in them to post here.

But after I worked on this I started to feel ill. I felt weak, nauseated, achy, and a mild headache. My husband had something similar a few days ago and called in sick from work. While I wanted to get more work done in the garage, it just wasn't happening and I decided to take it easy for the rest of the day. One bright side of this attack was that I got a pass on the in-law lunch. My daughter requested Red Lobster, and they agreed to it, so I considered myself lucky that I didn't have to fight the urge to eat five cheesy biscuits and a pile of shrimp Alfredo. Although at the time I didn't feel like eating much of anything; I wound up having a can of chicken soup for lunch and watched a bunch of chick flicks ("The Lake House" and "Vanity Fair")

By evening I was feeling better, and this morning I did sleep in for a few extra minutes, but I then decided to get up and walk outside and did the 2-mile walk from my house to our town's high school and back. I think I had just worn myself out and yesterday I needed a day to rest.

Today is the big doctor's appointment. This morning my scale read 210.5, which I was pretty happy about considering the amount of bloat I'd managed to suck up over my Easter blow-out. Yes, I've regained a little, but I'm very close to where I was the last time I was weighed at the doctor's office, so I'm content with that. I'm also happy that my regain is less than I feared.

I have to go, but I will try to report in later this afternoon after my appointment.

The Brownie Oath

My daughter has to memorize an Oath for Brownies. I've come up with my own version:
"On my honor, I will try
to avoid brownies and other binge foods,
to help keep my weight under control
and to live a long, healthy life."

My husband called in sick yesterday because he felt nauseous and fevered. This was actually a positive for me because I had to get my newsletter done, and it meant I could stay at work later and not rush home to let the puppies out.

However. When I did get home at 2, I walked into the Torture Chamber -- the house freakin' reeked of fresh baked brownies!

"What did you do???" I looked at him in horror. He replied he was craving them and decided to whip up a batch. ( I later noticed that he also baked a rising-dough pizza and ate 3/4 of that, too. I guess the nausea had passed.)

"Are you trying to torture me, or make sure I'm massively obese forever?" I queried, then stopped and shook my head. "Scratch that. I know you weren't even thinking about me when you made them."

Here's the rub. While I'm glad I said it, I knew it didn't get across like it should have. On the surface I was saying I knew he didn't bake the brownies to intentionally sabotage me. But on the other hand, I wish he would think about something other than his cravings -- namely, some consideration for me. I have been very vocal about getting myself back on track this week, but apparently that didn't come up in his mind as he baked these little binge bombs.

Last night I managed to stay away from them, but it was horribly tough. I wound up getting one of my Vitalicious VitaBrownies out of the freezer and ate that instead. I figured I'd at least get some fiber and nutrients, and it did keep me from attacking the unhealthy ones.

This morning, though, I was still haunted by those damn little things. So as Hubby was heading out the door I handed him the brownie container and said, "You don't have to give these away, but keep them in your truck or something, because I can't have them in the house. If they're here I won't just eat one, I'll eat all of them. It's an illness." I don't know how I could have gotten more succinct about it.

Hubby was fine with this request, and when I brought up the word illness, he replied, "Hey, I'm the one who made them," insinuating he's the one with the illness. He then got very revealing and said, "If I could find a good hypnotist, I'd go to one. Every night I think to myself I have to do something, and every day it doesn't happen."

God bless him, I've certainly been there, and it's hard. I wish I could give him a pill, a book, a plan that would give him the magical "click" that happens when it all falls into place. Like I've said before, if I had that I'd be a billionaire. But the truth is, I've even had the "click" and it can still go away and be very difficult to recapture.

My de-bloating slowed down a lot this morning, which makes me believe what's left is what I actually gained over my blow-out. Pretty depressing, because I basically wiped out a whole winter's hard work in what, 10 days, two weeks?

It's difficult not to think, "Why bother? I bust my hump for four months and I'm right where I started!" But let's face hard facts-- if I hadn't stayed vigilant this past winter I could have easily gained 20, 30, even 40 pounds. That sounds extreme but I know my past history. So I basically wound up maintaining my loss from the end of December. That's an accomplishment in itself, in my eyes.

Of course, I'm still in the middle of my TOTM, so I could still have some water retention hanging on and the actual regain isn't as bad as I think. Even though it's Friday I am fully motivated to stay on track this weekend because of that Monday doctor's appointment. I am bound and determined to not be horrified and ashamed when the nurse weighs me in, so there's simply no other option than to stay mindful. As of right now I don't have any parties or events going on to tempt me, although I doubt I can escape the Sunday dinner with the in-laws. Such is life.

A New Game Plan

After posting yesterday's rant I felt like I may have exaggerated a bit. I do have some other emotions other than anger and exhaustion. I guess it just seems like those two have been in the forefront lately. Last night, for example. I wanted to chill out and relax, but my relax time was spent doing laundry, then I realized that Mabel hadn't done her homework because I didn't remind her. She then went through her Helpless Eight Year Old routine of "I can't find a pencil and now the only one I can find isn't sharpened and I have some irrational fear of going upstairs by myself so I can't go to the den and use the sharpener."

This sent me off the deep end. While I don't think I scarred her for life, I went on this tear through the house, my irritation spilling into the piles of clutter on every flat surface of the house. While I will accept my one-third responsibility for putting it there, I find myself resenting the 100 percent responsibility for cleaning it. This isn't a good feeling to have -- resentment eats at you like a cancer, spreading and killing off the healthy, positive feelings you have about yourself and others.

I tried to explain this to Hubby last night as I collapsed into bed, and tried to do it in a way that wouldn't offend him. Because it would have been easy to say "I'm tired of keeping after you and Mabel like you're both three years old!" I tried to explain the pressure I feel, the feeling that everything I do is half-assed because there never seems to be enough time to do one job thoroughly.

Hubby responded that he thinks I do a wonderful job as a wife and mother, and that he doesn't consider anything I do half-assed. That was nice, but it wasn't what I wanted to hear. But that's partially my fault. I should have said to him, "I need more help around the house, and I'm not just talking about our daughter. I need you to take on a couple chores and I don't want to ask you every time it needs to be done."

The thing is, Hubby is very open about not being a good housekeeper, and the fact is he doesn't view it as a priority and doesn't really pay attention to things like dust and clutter and clothes on the floor. He has told me numerous times that I need to tell him when to do things around the house. But sometimes I don't want to have to be the responsible one all the time; I want someone else to notice the garbage can is overflowing and take the bag out without me having to mention it. I want someone else to look at the skyscraper pile of hunting and fishing magazines teetering precariously on the coffee table and purge them without me having to bring it up. I want someone else to pick up the children's and men's socks off the floor and take their glasses and dishes into the kitchen. Better yet, put those glasses and dishes in the dishwasher instead of piling them in the kitchen sink!

Okay, enough housewife griping. But lately it's just gotten to me and is in the forefront of my mind. FlyLady talks a lot about getting rid of resentment when it comes to cleaning the house and taking care of one's family. I may need to revisit her sight and reacquaint myself to her advice and wise words.

I continue to knock off more bloat from my Easter blow-out. But it will still be a while until I'm back in the groove and zeroing in on 200-199. But that's okay. Really.

For example, last night we went out for dinner and I found myself automatically ordering a healthier meal and the smaller portion the restaurant offered. But I also heartily ate the two little rolls that came with the meal and even put a little butter on them. And I found myself quite content. I wasn't wracking my brain trying to figure out the calorie count of everything, and I wasn't fretting over eating white flour and half a pat of butter. I just ate, knowing that overall I had made decent choices, didn't stuff myself and enjoyed my food. It was a good feeling.

I know the time is approaching for a weekly weigh in, but I'm doing something different this time. On Sunday I'm going to view my week from Monday-Sunday and lay out how I did. So far, other than Monday I've been doing great. No compulsive eating, no binge eating, and an hour of exercise a day. Lots of vegetables, small portions of meat and grains, and snacks that are portioned out and controlled. Yet I've pretty much eaten whatever I wanted when I wanted it.

So here's the new game plan: since I haven't deprived myself all week, I'm going to carry this same method to my weekend. I have no excuse to pig out because I can have whatever I want, as long as I take a specific amount and not make it a free-for-all. This is new territory, trying to eat intuitively, and it may take me a while to get the hang of it.

But I need this right now. I need to take some of the pressure off of myself somewhere in my life, and this seems like a way to do it that won't cause me or my loved ones any harm. The weight may not fly off, but it won't fly up, either. And it's a real taste of what life could be like once I reach maintenance; a feeling of control and contentment that keeps me healthy and sane.

Mix Up, Not Give Up

I was so tired when I woke up this morning. It took Herculean effort to haul myself over to my satellite gym and decided to forgo the treadmill and did 9 miles on the stationary bike instead. In addition, even though I ate one of my regular and filling breakfasts (strawberries, almond milk and a combo of Kashi puffs and Fiber One cereal), by the time I was driving to work I was already feeling hungry!

So this gets my mind working on what exactly is going on. I got a decent amount of sleep and didn't starve myself yesterday. I did work out a little more than usual -- I walked about 3 miles and did my 20 minute Pilates tape -- but I don't feel sore today.

I really hope I'm not getting sick again. My nose has been kind of stuffy and sneezy, but I've been attributing that to seasonal allergies (spring is usually my worst season).

My real concern, I suppose, is that I'm teetering on the edge of a lapse. It's been a long winter, and just when we thought it was over, we're getting more snow for the next five days. My weight's been pretty stuck for the past month and with Easter coming I don't expect any miraculous drops in the near future. While the puppies continue to be cute, the novelty is starting to wear off a little for me and it comes down to constant Pee and Poop Patrol. So now on top of clearing up my family's dirty dishes and socks, I'm now cleaning the kitchen floor several times a day, when I'm not taking the puppies outside several times a day.

Lord, I sound like a whiner! So what if the weather's crappy and I have loads of housework to do? Why does that mean I have to veer off the healthy course and fall into a vat of chocolate? Am I so weak that a little discomfort automatically sends me heading for the candy aisle?

I guess I'm just having a down week. We all get them from time to time, and I'm no exception.

I keep thinking about Shauna's post yesterday and how much I relate to it. The pressure she felt by posting her weigh-ins was getting to her, and once she quit announcing it, she felt better and has been focusing more on fitness.

The thought of abandoning the weekly weigh-in is tempting. Not having that pressure (self-created, by the way) would be a relief. But the weigh-ins also keep me honest. It's a motivator to not eat a whole box of Girl Scout Cookies on a Tuesday afternoon; it helps to keep me exercising on mornings like today when all I wanted to do was roll over and sleep another hour.

So what should I do? I've got a couple ideas in my head. One thought is giving myself another "bye-week" and get back to the weigh-ins on the 14th. I haven't really given myself one of those since Thanksgiving. Maybe if I have one irresponsible week (of course, the week is already half over!) I'd feel renewed and jump back into it with lots of motivation and verve.

Or, for the next couple weeks or month, still have a weekly "report," but not include my weight. I could report how much I exercised and if I completed five days or more of healthy eating. I could also go back to my food journaling, and while I may not post the actual lists of food, I could report on how many days I successfully wrote down everything I ate.

I guess it comes down to the fact that I'm thinking hard about mixing things up because I want to do whatever it takes to not give up. I don't want to burn out and say "screw it." While I'm thinking about taking a break, I only want it to be brief and temporary. Because the results I've gained are too important to me to throw away.

If any of you have any feedback on this -- getting in a rut, mixing things up, taking a break-- let me know. I appreciate all opinions and viewpoints.

Me Version 2007

Yesterday I was lamenting to my mother about my overeating this past weekend and feeling a little down about it. Her reaction was interesting.

"I know you really want to get below 200, but think about how far you've come and what you've been able to do."

My husband also says similar things to me. I don't think either one of them is encouraging me to throw my healthy habits out the window. Hell, maybe they are, but I'm not viewing it that way. My interpretation? Just because I haven't reached an arbitrary milestone, that doesn't invalidate all the weight I've lost so far. I mean, 130 pounds is nothing to sneeze at! A lot of people -- my old self included -- could never imagine achieving such a thing.

Having done this, why beat myself up because I'm kind of wallowing here in this 206 range? I mean, holy cow, four years ago 206 was a weight I never thought I'd see again. My old self would have scoffed at Me Version 2007. "Boo hoo, maintaining a 130-pound weight loss. You poor thing! Let me cry you a river -- not."

I'm not saying I should go back to Me Version 2003 or older. This past Friday when Hubby, Mabel and I went to the Lenten Fish Fry I felt really stuffed, but as I told Hubby, I ate half of what I used to. In the "good old days," I would fill my plate and put plenty on Mabel's plate. Then I'd not only eat all of my food, but most of hers, too.

Hubby was shocked by this revelation, but like I told him, how else would I be able to maintain a weight well over 300 pounds? Now I don't get as much food and can't even finish what's on my plate, let alone looking at what's left on Mabel's plate.

There were other moments that reminded me that I am a new and improved version of myself. I went to the liquor store Saturday morning to buy two gallons of wine for our church's communion services. The man who checked me out has been a long-time friend of my family, and when he saw me he exclaimed, "You're wasting away to nothing!"

The next day I was walking around the Maple Festival with my friend JH. We walked past a store window and I caught a glimpse of the two of us, and to my pleasant surprise, I didn't look like a blimp walking next to her. My friend is not super petite but not overweight, either; in fact, I've secretly used her as a goal size I'd like to get to (she's now reading this blog, so now my secret's out!). While I'm sure I'm still heavier than her, I look closer to her size now, and I recall feeling some approval and satisfaction with myself as I glanced at my reflection.

I was telling some different people about my modified schedule now that we have the puppies. Instead of getting up at 5 a.m. I now get up at 4:45 to get them outside and fed before I go work out. Everyone was astounded that I do this and all stated they don't have that much motivation. Four or five years ago I would have been one of those people who couldn't imagine making such an effort to (gasp!) exercise. And to give up sleep for it? Forget it! I'm still not sure how it happened, but it's just something that's become important to me, and important enough to make the time for it, even if it means giving up some sleep.

So why, with all these changes I've been able to make in my life, do I feel like a failure because I'm lingering at the same weight for several weeks now? I guess I've put too much importance on the weekly weigh-ins, and I worry too much about what my readers will think of me when I report that I've stayed the same or gained.

You're probably wondering where I'm heading with this. Am I looking for a reason to eliminate the weekly weigh-in? I see the danger of that; I need that accountability, because otherwise I'll start getting lazy about sticking to healthy eating. I'll start allowing more and more slip-ups until I'm back to 230, 240 or heaven forbid, even higher. I completely credit this blog and the weekly weigh-in for my ability to go from 213 to 206 over the winter. Not a lot, but still, a loss over winter is a huge achievement for me.

I have to just stop putting such importance on the number on the scale and not calling myself a failure if the number isn't going down. The non-scale successes are there if I choose to see them. And if I wind up maintaining for another month? Well, maybe that's what my body and mind need to do right now. The big goals are to keep eating healthy during the week and exercising almost every day. If I can continue doing that it will ensure that I don't start regaining. And that's the most important thing.

The Week 26 Weigh In

Alternate post titles for today could have been
Truth and Consequences
or
Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

The truth is, I am up 1.5 pounds, back up to 206. I have to admit this bums me out a bit. I do know that last week I was taking a lot of decongestants to dry up a cold, and they tend to dehydrate me, which may have contributed to the 2-pound loss last week. So 206 is probably a more accurate -- true-- reading this week.

But let's face some other truths, and their consequences -- I slipped up last Friday with the seafood buffet, and although I did my best to limit my eating on Saturday, Sunday was pretty wild with the festival food. Add to that a lot of stress and lack of sleep this past week with Les Poopies, and despite the healthy eating and exercising Monday - Thursday, it didn't make up for it. In addition, I'm weighing in a day early because we're going to the last Lenten dinner of the year tonight. So I am also paying the consequences for that.

Vickie also brought up another very good point. While I'm doing lots of cardio, I haven't been able to keep up a steady routine of toning. I'll do good for a week then not do it all for two weeks. I know this would probably make a big difference, not only with increasing muscle tone and burning calories more efficiently, but also with my appearance.

The question is how I fit this into my daily schedule. I don't really want to decrease my cardio -- in fact, I need that hour so I can work on my 5 or 10K coming up in June. That means finding another 30-60 minutes a day to tone. I either need to commit to the Pilates, which I could really feel the effects of when I did do it, or join a gym and use the weights. Or, I can do a combination of the two for maximum variety and results.

The problem is carving the time out of my day. Afternoons make sense, because generally I have time then, but there are some weeks that every single day has some kind of afternoon errand -- doctor appointments for me or Mabel, mainly. Evenings are nearly impossible because of the time taken up with homework, piano, Brownies, dinner, bath and bed time routines. And now, of course, I've got the puppies who need lots of human interaction, not to mention taking them outside to go potty about every two hours.

It really comes down to making the effort and not making excuses. There's another good alternate title -- Making the Effort, Not Excuses. This Fitness Challenge is the perfect opportunity to establish this new routine. I've got an outside motivator (the amount of time I do it gives our team more points), and the tally sheets give me a means of documenting and staying accountable.

Even if it's only 20- 30 minutes three times a week, doing it regularly will make a difference. The hardest part is training myself to adopt the new habit. I managed to establish the other healthy habits -- mindful eating, nearly daily cardio -- so I know I can do it.

Another cold hard truth: back in the early days of the weight loss a big part of my success was the fact that I was at the gym 90 minutes a day five days a week. And a good portion of that time was spent doing toning and weights. Now granted, I was losing a lot of weight at that time because I had a lot to lose. But I think I would have better results now if I devoted more time to it.

Of course, at that time period I was only working very sporadically at the B&B, mainly weekends; Mabel was little and not in school and she wasn't involved in Brownies, piano and running to allergy shots and orthodontist appointments; and I wasn't married to a husband whose family was born to run -- and eat! I had a LOT more free time in my day to spend at the gym! So I've got my work cut out for me.

The big pressing issue right now is today. The combination of the disappointing weigh in this morning and knowing I'm eating out tonight is really making the Fat Girl voice in my head sing a chorus of "What the hell, eat crazy all day!" But I'm putting up the good fight. I've stuck to my healthy breakfast and mid-morning snack, and my healthy lunch is in my fridge at home ready to reheat. After that, well, I can't give you or myself any promises that this evening won't fall into gluttony. But if I can limit it to half a day instead of a whole day, that's success in my book.

I have one more festival day on Sunday, and I know it will be near impossible to resist the treats there. But I have nothing planned for Saturday; Hubby's taking his parents to the airport for their week-long trip to Las Vegas, and I'm staying home with the puppies. So I am bound and determined to make Saturday a healthy day, because I really shouldn't have any outside temptations, and anything else is an excuse and a cop-out.

So, now that I've put it here for all to see, I better stick to it, huh? Thank you and this blog for keeping me honest and accountable. I'll check in tomorrow and let you know how it's going!

The Week 25 Weigh In

This dog hunting business is for the birds! What a roller coaster ride.

I was all ready to go see this yellow Lab when Hubby calls me on the cell phone on his way home from work. He had a message from the woman selling the dog... and the dog's gone. Apparently a buddy of her husband showed up with cash in hand and he gave the dog to him.

Talk about major disappointment. When Hubby came home I said to him, "You know, maybe all these signs are pointing to the fact that we just aren't meant to have a dog yet." I don't consider myself extremely superstitious, but I don't tend to ignore the signs when they're popping up all over the place, either.

Then Mabel came home and we had to disappoint her yet again. But... I opened the classified section of the paper and the first ad under the pet section was for Labradoodles, chocolate and black, ready for Easter. Hubby called the number, and it sounded like a good deal. The lady selling the dogs has the parents in her home; she's an older lady who has decided this is her last litter because she's getting too old to deal with breeding dogs. But she decided to have one last litter because her granddaughter wants one. The price is fair, and Hubby asked her all kinds of breeding questions and whatnot and she was very responsive with everything.

So maybe, as I told my family, maybe these other ones weren't supposed to work out for a reason. We told the lady we'd be up next week to see/get one, and hopefully this one will finally work out.

Vickie asked me what our allergist said about getting a dog. Mabel's allergy nurse who gives her the shot every week said Labradoodles were a good choice; one of the doctors in their office has allergies, got one and was very happy with it. So that was good news, too.

And here's MORE good news: this morning the scale read 204.5 -- a two pound loss! It's a day early for my usual weigh-in, but with my friend SS spending the night tonight and since I'll be entertaining him for most of the weekend, I don't know if I'll have much time to post. In addition the Maple Festival starts this weekend and Hubby is cooking there Sunday, so we will be there all day, too.

I can't tell you how freakin' happy I was to see my plateau end. But there was no mystery to it -- for three weeks I was sick and didn't exercise, so my weight stayed the same. This week I got my butt back into gear -- literally and figuratively -- and voila, weight loss.

Now I just have to try to behave myself this weekend. Gonna' be a hard one. We're going out for supper tonight, my friend SS and other friend JH are attending a Maple Festival banquet Saturday night, and Sunday I'll be surrounded by festival food. The trick is to adopt my Christmas-time approach: eat what I want, but small portions. As for the festival, I don't have to eat it all in one day; we'll be back next Sunday, too, so I can space the fun food out over the two weekends.

I also want to get off to a good start on my Fitness Challenge and have some exercise on the books for the first day, Sunday. So hopefully the exercise will help stave off some of the urge to binge, too.

So if I don't get back here until Monday, here's wishing everyone a good weekend. Dodge the raindrops and have a good time!

The Week 24 Weigh In

I was again pleasantly surprised to see 206.5 on the scale again. You'd think I'd be frustrated, disappointed, afraid I've reached a plateau I'll never escape from. But I'm really not.

I was sure I be up 1.5, even 2.5 pounds from PMS bloat. So to see the same weight again was great. I know this past month has been... not bad, per se, but challenging with the illnesses (cold and strep throat). My immunity had hit a low, and I needed time to recover and regroup. It's not shocking at all that my body, after dropping a few pounds, is now resting comfortably for a while until I get back into my usual exercise routine.

While this week wasn't fantastic when it comes to physical activity, I was satisfied with what I did and felt it was a nice slow return to exercise, and next week I will gradually increase it. My big goal is to get myself back into gear about waking up at 5 and getting my behind over to my satellite gym and kick out the cobwebs for at least 30 minutes every morning. I really need to do this because next week almost every afternoon is booked with one kind of appointment or another -- hair cut, insurance estimates, Mabel's orthodontist, parent-teacher meeting. Then my friend (and Mabel's godfather) is coming in for a visit and he's staying here in our guest room at least one night, so I need to make sure everything's ship-shape and clean.

Still not positive about the Pittsburgh trip today. Hubby, Mom and I will have to have a tete-a-tete and decide what we want to do. But we'll probably wind up going.

Tomorrow I'm filling in at church and doing the children's sermon. Yesterday the lady who was supposed to do it bailed out -- I mean, had a last minute thing come up -- and since it was such late notice I figured I'd suck it up and do it. Besides, I've been very slack in attending church this winter, and I know I won't be able to go the next two weeks because Hubby will be doing his colonial cooking demonstrations at the maple festival and I'll be his go-fer. Fortunately, there's a web site that provides free children's sermons ideas that are in sync with our church's lessons/gospel reading, so it's an easy job.

A lot of people I know are terrified of these kind of things: getting up at church to read the lessons, give a speech, etc. I guess that fear was beaten out of me by my time in the newspaper field. You quickly had to muster the courage to go up to strangers, a lot of them politicians, even some celebrities, and start asking them questions. The job required you to get up in front of a room full of people and bring attention to yourself as you took photographs. And it was trial by fire when I was the editor of the small town weekly and often took the brunt of people's complaints and frustrations out on you. It makes doing a children's sermon seem like a walk in the park.

So, just like the newspaper business made public speaking easier for me, my three years as a professional weight loser makes this three-week plateau a lot easier to handle. I've been at this long enough to know that it's a temporary thing. Once I get back to my higher level of exercise, and now that spring is just around the corner, things will improve. I'm just thrilled that I managed to lose weight and now maintain it, rather than gaining 10 pounds and getting stuck there. So you've got no complaints here!

Other than the fact that I miss my blog buddies! It seems a lot of them took trips this week and have been MIA online. Oh well, at least they should have lots of good stories to tell when they return. Happy Weekend -- and St. Patrick's Day -- to you all!