Where I’ve Been

This is not going to be about where I’ve been for the last couple months. It’s not going to be about how terrible I’ve felt, or how many bad days and weeks I’ve had. Yesterday felt heavy and unsure. This morning I realized it doesn’t matter what yesterday was, or the days before that. What matters is what I do today.

I spent one hour on the treadmill, and 45 minutes of that was spent running at various inclines. I fixed a delicious bowl of oatmeal with banana, a few dried cranberries, some walnuts, and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

I don’t know why I thought I could lose over 100 pounds and never have a major setback. I don’t know why I thought I could have spent most of my life over eating and not ever fall back into that pattern. What I do know is that there’s no giving up. Every day is a chance to reaffirm my quest for health and my ideal weight.

Back In the World

Vacationing in Chicago was like being in a different world, as a different person. Every time I left the hotel I was facing my reflection in the gold elevator doors. It dawned on me that everyone around me couldn’t see the 258 pounds I used to weigh. They didn’t know I used to wear a size 24. It made me feel like a brand new person, like I could own my new identity for the first time – I was the only person for miles who knew I’d once been grossly overweight.

I ate like there was no tomorrow, but I did make some healthy choices. I got more exercise than most people get in a lifetime. I walked everywhere. I felt good, light, free. And then I had to come home.

Over the course of two days I interviewed for a job, returned to work, got hired for a new job, and quit my job. I start my new position on Tuesday. My natural instinct when something good like that happens is to celebrate with food. It didn’t help that I was having a hard time getting back to my healthy routine after vacation. Since Tuesday, I’ve done nothing but eat poorly. Sure, I’ve had some salads, fruits, and vegetables, but I’ve had cookies, brownies, and peanut butter. I’ve been eating delicious snacks and desserts even though I’m not hungry.

I stepped on the scale this morning, and even though I was horrified by the numbers, I can’t stop. In a way I don’t want to stop, not yet. Maybe after a year I deserve a couple weeks of eating whatever I want. But am I willing to pay the price? I don’t know. I know there has to be an end, and I know if I don’t stop I won’t be able to stop.

All You Can Eat Vacation

I’m going on vacation in a few days. In the past, this would have been cause for celebration, would have brought on a deep sense of relaxation. After this last year, though, I’m quite nervous about the prospect. Why? Because vacation is always about seeing the sights, shopping, and eating!

Some of the things I remember best about previous vacations involve meals. There was the unique, delicious Cranberry Gourmet in the middle of Times Square, having the world’s biggest breakfast buffet at The Aladdin in Vegas, and ordering sinful desserts in a beautiful hotel in Florida with friends. I don’t want to confine myself to salads on this trip. It’s very hard to eat healthy on the go, and I plan to be on the go all the time (weather, please be good to me!).

I’m trying to not worry about food and weight gain. I want to enjoy my vacation without constantly checking to see if my pants are getting tighter. I’ve worked really hard this past week, and plan to leading up to my trip, to hopefully minimize the damage. This trip is going to be a test for me of how well I can enjoy food without overeating, how well I can eat something because I’m hungry and it tastes good without wanting to eat five more of whatever it is.

Wish me luck!

Four Sticks of Butter

I can’t recall the source, but I read that one pound looks like four sticks of butter. That conjures an image of Oprah pulling a wagon onto the stage during one of her shows, showing the amount of weight she had lost. Sometimes I close my eyes and try to visualize my own wagon full of 432 sticks of butter. It’s difficult because I’ve never seen that many sticks of butter at once, but also because, even though the scale tells me I’ve lost over 100 pounds and my clothes have gotten smaller, I don’t always see myself minus 432 sticks of butter.

 

If you study eating disorders, especially anorexia and bulimia, you already read that people look in the mirror and see themselves as fat. At my highest weight, I’d look in the mirror and be convinced I wasn’t that big. It’s only now, wearing pants that balloon around me, that I realize how big I was. And yet, when I look in the mirror wearing a size 10, I don’t see myself that much thinner. Not all the time.

 

There are moments, if I’m wearing an outfit that really fits and one that I’m comfortable in, that I can check myself out. I leave the house feeling confident. But there are other times I just don’t see it.

 

My distorted point of view and low self-esteem not only impact how I see myself, but how I feel about other people’s image of me. I was always the girl dancing by herself at a club. My friends would be partnering up with guys, getting a lot of attention. Every once in a while someone would take pity on me, but I usually had to just be content to dance amid the group or with one of my female friends. Last weekend, as part of a bachelorette party, I hit the dance floor feeling pretty good about myself. I lost count of the guys that danced with me, but afterward, I asked myself, “Did they dance with me because they were attracted to me, or because it was dark and they were drunk?”

 

I hate feeling pathetic and lacking confidence. It’s not always like that. I don’t know what makes me look in the mirror one day and see a thinner, happier version of myself, and the next day I still see 432 sticks of butter on my arms, thighs, stomach, butt.

Visibility

When you are overweight you don’t want to be seen. You hide behind your fat, behind your size 22 clothes. You carry a big purse in front of your stomach and wear all black so the color of your clothes won’t draw extra attention your way.

All of the above was, and sometimes still is, true for me. I would not wear shorts because I hated my chubby legs, especially around my knees. I spent every summer with just my feet in the pool because I refused to wear a swimsuit in front of other people. At bars and clubs, I had to be really drunk to go out on the dance floor. I didn’t like to be looked at, wouldn’t look anyone in the eye, and yet all I ever wanted was for someone to pay attention. Someone to see beyond the weight and size 22 clothes. I hid, but I wanted to be seen.

I’ve spent most of my life wanting to be seen for the person I am inside, the person I am despite the numbers on the scale or the tag on my jeans. Now that I feel more comfortable wearing a pair of shorts and I’ve bought my first swimsuit in over ten years, I still want to be seen for the person I am inside, but I’m ready to go out on the dance floor without alcohol in my system and put more than just my feet in the swimming pool.

The hard part is that I’m not used to being visible. I’m not used to having people pay attention to me. It’s all new to me – being complimented on my clothes, feeling a man’s eyes linger longer than necessary. It’s so new to me that I tend to interpret everything as scrutiny, judgment, disgust. I have a hard time believing a man is looking at me because he’s attracted and not because he’s repulsed. My whole life I’ve wanted to be visible to people, especially the opposite sex, and now that the fog is starting to lift… I don’t know what to do with it. I react the wrong way. It’s scary and uncomfortable, and a little thrilling.

I guess it’s like a lot of things, something to get used to. Just as I have to adjust to my new shape and size, I have to adjust to being seen differently by other people.

A Few Tips

For a while, after 30, 40, even 50 pounds had disappeared from my body, I wondered if I looked any different. My clothes were bigger, but no one seemed to notice. I looked in the mirror and thought I could see the changes, but I needed affirmation from other people. It seemed like once one person noticed, everyone could. Suddenly, I found myself telling my story several times a day.

Everyone wants to know, “How did you do it?” I could give them the long story about how I’m still doing it, about getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise, about the torture of passing on brownie cheesecake at Easter, but instead I usually give the shorter version.

I exercise and watch what I eat. I drink mostly water. The key ingredients are walking, water, fruit, vegetables, and chicken.

People tell me I should write a book, should bottle my secret, etc. I would probably be pretty rich if I could charge people every time they ask how I’m losing weight, but I think it should be free advice. One thing a lot of people ask is how I can still manage to go out to eat, so here are a few things I’ve picked up along the way.

• Ordering a salad doesn’t mean you’re getting a healthy meal. If there’s chicken involved, make sure it’s grilled and not fried. Watch out for excessive amounts of cheese, croutons, bacon, egg. Stick with salads that include other vegetables, like tomato and cucumber.
• Take your own salad dressing. I’m sure if you look at the nutritional information for almost any salad at a restaurant, the majority of the fat grams come from the dressing. If you don’t want that hassle, ask what kind of fat free dressing they have and get it on the side so you can use it sparingly.
• Most major restaurants have web sites. Before you go out to dinner, look at the menu and nutritional info so you can make your choice ahead of time. If they don’t offer the calorie and fat count, at least you can browse the menu to make a healthier choice.
• Use common sense when picking a dish. I look at the healthy portion of a menu and cringe because most of it is not really healthier. Stick to fish, chicken, brown rice, vegetables. If you’re only option for a main course is not as healthy as you’d like, at least make sure your sides are fresh, steamed veggies.
• If you’re at a coffee shop, get everything with skim milk and sugar free syrup. Cappucino has less milk than a latte, so that gives you less calories and carbs.

Over the course of the last year, here are some restaurant meals I’ve enjoyed:

• Applebee’s Orange Chicken Bowl (the meat is crispy, but the veggies are always fresh, and the brown rice is very filling).
• Friday’s has a couple good fish options, and you can specify for them to leave off any unhealthy toppings.
• Smokey Bones has a chicken dish that I recreate at home a lot. It’s grilled chicken with a salsa that includes cucumber, tomato and dried cranberries. I usually add sliced almonds or bits of walnut for a little crunch. It’s light and fresh, good for summer.
• Even though I try to avoid most breads, I’ve recently discovered veggie sandwiches. A lot of chain sub restaurants have them, but the best are at local cafes. Of course, they do add cheese or mayo or some other kind of sauce, but you can skip those.

A Long Term Relationship

I was an average sized child until the age of 5, when I started kindergarten. I had already crossed over to being quite heavy. Despite my young age, I knew that I was unhealthy. I knew the difference between “bad” and “good” foods, and that I was more likely to eat the bad ones. The first question my bus driver asked every young passenger on the way to afternoon kindergarten was, “What did you just eat for lunch?” I learned quickly that if I said something like pizza or peanut butter I would be met with a comment on my weight. If I responded that I’d had a salad, I’d be ridiculed for eating such an adult meal. But I decided that I’d rather be laughed at for eating a salad than have someone look at me and think, “The last thing that little girl needs is a slice of pizza.”

My bus driver’s nosiness may not be what began my life as an overweight girl, but that is one of my earliest memories of my relationship to food, how I was perceived by others, and how I saw myself because of what I ate.

Until I reached a year of healthy living and had shed 100 pounds from my body, my longest relationship was with food. Some of my best memories are centered around food – the lunches my grandmother and I would prepare together, the birthday dinners, Christmas meals with my family, stocking up on candy for slumber parties. I can’t remember a time I didn’t use food as a means of celebration and comfort.

In elementary school, I couldn’t wait to get home and watch my soap operas while I ate a snack of nutty bars and potato chips and cookies. I was excited about high school because I knew the cafeteria sold raw, frozen chocolate chip cookie dough. Food was reliable when people weren’t. I didn’t know if I’d make friends, but I knew I could count on good, tasty food. And when I did make friends, the food was a means to connect, to celebrate with them. Food was always at the center of everything, a major priority. A long road trip? I made sure there were enough snacks. Someone’s birthday? I’ve got the cupcakes covered.

When I started losing weight, food was still a major priority. I planned breaks from my healthy diet based on holidays or other events that I knew would involve desserts. Being successful, though, was about changing my food priorities and my relationship with food.

Losing weight is a major committment. That is how I’ve had to think about it in order to stay on track for the last 14 months. It’s not something to take lightly. I’ve had to take that energy I used to put toward planning my meals and snacks and turn it into more positive energy – toward exercise, healthier choices. Now, my biggest priority is exercise. I’ve got to work later, when will I get my second walk in? I have to leave an hour earlier, so how I can I still fit 90 minutes of exercise in today? Rather than focusing on sugary sweets, I give priority to vegetables and fruits. I feed my hunger with those healthy foods, making sure I get at least three servings of each a day.

It’s certainly easier and more fun to think about desserts and salty snacks, but unlike my five year old self on that hot, sticky bus, I want to respond to the question of what I had for lunch with pride. Whether I say pizza or salad, I want to know that I’ve exercised and ate the food that is going to most fill me up, most satisfy my taste buds and my desire to be healthy. If I choose to have pizza, I don’t want to say it with shame. After 20+ years of having a pretty shameful relationship with food, I’m ready to turn it around.

The Scale AKA My Nemesis

When you’re trying to lose weight, taking on a new fitness program, starting on a new medication, or doing any number of things, there is always conflicting advice. “They” say to do this, and “they” say not to do that. When it comes to weight loss, some of “they” say that stepping on the scale as often as possible will keep you motivated, and the rest of “they” say not to do it too often or you’ll get obsessed and fret over every fluctuation.

In the beginning I weighed myself at the same time, under the same conditions, every morning. It was both motivating and infuriating. It was motivating when the numbers were dropping, and aggravating when I’d experience a seemingly pointless gain (I cut back calories or increased my exercise, so why did it go up two pounds?!?!). During the holidays, or any other major splurge, I got out of that habit. These days, if I’m having a good run, I check often. Whenever I splurge on sweets, I wait several days to weigh myself. Why? Because the truth is, I know if I’ve gained or lost. If I’m eating well and exercising, chances are it’s going to make me happy to see the numbers on the scale. If I’ve had a piece of cheesecake, I’m not going to like what I see.

Why do I put so much stock in what the scale says when I can practically predict what it’s going to read? I get so mad over every gain, so disappointed, so angry at the scale. Clearly, it’s not the scale’s fault.

I came down with a cold on Friday. I’m not one of those people that loses her appetite due to an illness. If anything, I want to eat even more because the food is nourishing, makes me feel good, etc. And when you’re feeling crappy, what’s better than comfort food? The weekend was one long vacation from my healthy life. I didn’t want to weigh myself, but I couldn’t stay away from the scale. It wasn’t as bad as I’d predicted, but I still feel like I got set back a lot. These days the weight is taking even longer than 1-2 pounds a week. But I can’t yell at or kick the scale. I’m the one that at the cake and cookies.

Dessert Is Not a Food Group

At some point in my life it was decided that no meal was complete without something sweet to finish it off. While this is certainly not the one and only cause of my lifelong struggle with weight, it didn’t help.

I was ten years old when my pediatrician put me on my first official diet. He had always been nagging me about my weight and I loathed going to the doctor, and still dread it today because of that obligatory stop at the scary scale. The previous year he had detected a heart murmur and put me through a series of tests at the hospital. I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die after he pointed out my unacceptable weight for the thousandth time. My mother and I left his office with a list of acceptable foods and recommendations for exercise. He had gone over the Food Pyramid with me, but I already knew about the food groups from school.

It was summer vacation. I slept in. I got up and took a short walk. It was 11:00 so I decided to go right to lunch. I followed the Food Pyramid and poured a glass of milk, fixed a fat free ham sandwich, dropped a few carrot sticks on my plate, and sliced an apple. The meal didn’t look complete. Where was the ever important Dessert Group? I added a couple Snackwells sandwich cookies. That was the beginning of the end of my first “diet.”

For the rest of my life, no meal felt complete without dessert. I couldn’t understand people that didn’t like chocolate, that could say no to cheesecake. These foods were more important to me than any hamburger, pizza or bowl of pasta.

This has been one of my greatest challenges over the last year – eliminating sweets. I had to train myself to consider a meal complete without a dessert at the end. I started out by having fruit at the end, or maybe a handful of raisins or dried cranberries. In the beginning, when it was hardest, that only made me want something chocolate and creamy even more.

If I make a bowl of trail mix – almonds, walnuts, raisins, cranberries, and five chocolate chips for a treat – I just want to gorge myself on candy bars and brownies. Those few chocolate chips light a fire in my taste buds and I want more, more, more. I’ve had to remind myself that dessert is a once in a while treat. It’s for emergency situations. It’s something I simply cannot have at the end of each meal, or even once a week. Some people can, I can’t.

The bright side? Not having dessert with every single meal or a few times a week makes it more of a treat. Now, when I do indulge in a gooey cookie or creamy cheesecake, it’s a slice of heaven. Sure, it’s sometimes impossible not to reach for another one or five, but I’m still learning the proper food groups.

When I Am Thin…

A good part of my twenty-six years on this earth have been spent thinking about what I would do if I were thin, if I were in better shape, if I had more confidence in myself and my body. I’m tired of thinking about those things; I want to experience them.

I’ve decided to make a list of the things I will do when I reach my goal weight. I’m sure I’ll add things, and hopefully, soon, I will be able to start crossing things off.

• Buy a bathing suit because it is cute, not because it hides all the trouble areas.
• Wear bathing suit in a public place without large pieces of clothing to hide myself.
• Buy a sexy little black dress.
• Start wearing shorts again.
• Buy a short skirt.
• Wear tank tops.
• Go to a day spa for a massage, facial, and to get my hair and make-up done by a professional.
• Get professional pictures of myself taken.
• Go wall climbing.
• Join my friends on a float trip and wear a bathing suit.
• Take an aerobics class with a group.
• Sign up for dance lessons.