A perfect day

Yesterday at 5:30 in the morning, I got on the scale after not getting on the scale for a few weeks.  I was up 3 pounds.  My clothes don't fit any worse, but realistically, I'm not sure where I am in the bloating cycle or if this is just an outlying data point.  So I didn't stress about the number.

Instead, I got ready for work.  At 6:30, I realized I was hungry - and in an effort to actually fuel myself before getting famished, I decided to fix something before my ride in.  I stopped and realized that I didn't have time to savor every morsel of food that morning...so I opted to make a meal/snack that would be enjoyable, but would be mostly consumed for fuel reasons.  (I wrote about my new philosophy about fuel vs pleasure approach on this post). I toasted a double fiber english muffin and smeared about a tablespoon of peanut butter on it. 

Incidentally, as I spread the peanut butter, I realized that I've been letting my portions slide.  In months past, I probably would've glopped on a lot of peanut butter... Yesterday, a tablespoon felt reasonable and I didn't feel like I was on a diet just because I was eating less than I normally would've.  I could've made it lower calorie by not having the peanut butter, but the protein really did wonders for tiding me over.

I got to work, had two mugs (during the morning) of coffee with less creamer and sugar than I normally do.  I'm trying to work my way to black coffee...which is kind of a long story, so I'll save it for another time.  But yesterday, I had about a 1/2 a packet of Sweet & Low and about a 1/4 of a cup of powdered creamer (both mugs combined).

And THEN my co-worker brought in BAGELS!  From Panera!  With yummy cream cheese options!  If you've been reading me for a while, you know that bagels are a major source of pleasure for me.  I crave them - and their ooey gooey toasted wonderfulness. 

I looked at it, thought about it, and realized that I wasn't hungry; that the peanut butter and english muffin had me satisfied.  AND I told myself that I could have one later when I was hungry. I felt really great about the knowledge that those bagels would be there later.  And if they weren't, I could definitely get a fresh one almost any time of day I wanted.  I didn't need to eat them right then because I knew I would have many more chances.

At 11:30ish, I was hungry, but a bagel with cream cheese wasn't going to last me a while.  Instead, I re-heated a bowl of gumbo that I had leftover from a meal out last week.  I ate about 1/2 to 2/3 cup of gumbo with a toasted double fiber english muffin and maybe a teaspoon of butter between the two halves.  I stopped with more left for today's lunch - not really on purpose...but because I was satisfied.

I did have a "fun size" Butterfinger candy bar from the gargantuan bowl of Snickers, 3 Musketeers, Twix, and other candy that my cubemate brings to the office.  In the past, I would've had more than a few of these.  But I knew that if I wanted more, they would be there.  One was tasty and delicious.  It was enough.  Certainly I was tempted to have more a few times in the day - just because everyone else was.  Plus it's RIGHT THERE - where every time someone opens a wrapper I can hear and smell the chocolate.  But for some reason, asking myself if I was hungry first was enough of a pause to turn it down.

At 3:00, I was hungry again, so I had two low-fat cheese sticks. 

At 5:30, I got home and had probably a half cup of Annie's Cheddar Bunnies as Joe and I walked the from our place to the Pepsi Center where we got to see our basketball team (the Denver Nuggets) play.  Joe's company comped him really great free tickets, so we were lucky enough to sit in row 7 (!) for the game.  It was AWESOME.

When we got there, I had a Diet Pepsi (I was a bit sleepy at that point) and ordered some boneless buffalo wings.  The order came with fries...which I had ONE of.  The fries weren't that great, so I didn't continue eating them.  The "wings" were okay, but not fantastic.  I had three (although to be fair, they were a good size - not like "chicken tender" size, but pretty good sized) and then stopped.  I was satisfied.

Joe offered to get beer, cotton candy, nachos, pretzels, or ice cream - whatever I wanted.  But the truth?  I was completely satisfied cheering for our home team and not snacking on anything. 

What?  I always have a watermark across my face... :)

He ended up getting us both some water and some sliced bananas and strawberries with chocolate sauce drizzled on it.  They looked tasty so I had two slices of strawberries (maybe an 1/8 of an inch thick each) and one slice of a banana (a 1/2 inch thick) with minimal chocolate drizzle.

We walked the mile back home and enjoyed hot tea while putting together some of the puzzle we started over the weekend.

Honestly?  It was a great day.  Food wise, I made some great choices.  And while I didn't eat the lowest calorie things, it really wasn't bad.  In fact, on the walk home last night, I added up the points estimates in my head - and they were below what my usual daily target used to be.

So I stayed in my points range and I didn't feel restricted.  Sounds like a win to me.

The coolest thing?  It wasn't that hard.  You know how some days it's all you can do to keep your sh!t together and not eat everything in sight?  Yesterday, it was easy to resist things that I didn't truly want.

This morning I stepped on the scale.  I'm UP 0.6 pounds.

At first, I was really disappointed - I mean, what was all that about having a great day and then being UP in weight?  I re-calculated the points from yesterday...I was definitely within my old target range.  So what gives?

I kind of wanted to stomp my feet.  I actually thought, "What is the point of having a good day if my weight goes up the next day?!?"

Uh, DUH, Anne! The 0.6 doesn't change the fact that I am proud of listening to my body.  It doesn't change the fact that I am on the right track.  At the end of the day, I ate less than I normally did, I moved more than I normally do (working out and running aside), and I felt better than I typically do.

It is a win.  And if the scale takes a while to catch up, that's got to be okay too.

A few "perfect" days strung together makes a habit; a success story .  A story that leads to me being thinner, healthier, and having a better relationship with food than I was before.  And that's a story I want to be a part of.

Groaning on cloud nine

Yesterday I made a bold declaration: to do Jillian's 30 Day Shred every day for 30 days.

And I'm going to be honest with you...I almost didn't.  I left work late - after working an 11 hour day.  I was kind of hungry and I needed to stop by the store to pick up some more fresh fruit.  I didn't WANT to do it.  I didn't feel a deep burning yearning to exercise like I have before.  Instead, I really just wanted to go home and relax.

'I can just start tomorrow!,' I thought.  No one will know.  And besides, it's not like you're breaking a streak of hard work.  You haven't even started yet.  What's one more day?

But I made a promise to myself and to you.  AND I know that me not exercising has drug on day by day until whoopsies! It's been almost 3 months since I've done anything significant.  I can't let that trend continue.  I matter too much.

So I did it anyway.  Even when I walked through the door and didn't want to change into workout clothes.  Even when I started the DVD and remembered how irritating it is not to be able to skip through Jillian's intro.  Even when I had my doubts as to whether or not there would be enough space in our loft apartment.  And even when I realized that I didn't have the dumbbells that she wants us to use.

I had a lot of reasons I could've thrown in the towel.

But I didn't.

Behold, my "dumbbells" used during the DVD (made of plastic because I am quite the clumsy one sometimes).  The bottle of water is 1 liter and the bottle of Kahlua is bigger than that (and almost full...we aren't big drinkers.  I think this bottle is more than a few years old). The thing in between them is the our bathroom clock where I was hoping you could see the date and time.

Behold the close-up of said clock showing the date and time.

Behold, my sweaty face.

I'm so proud of myself.

That first workout was the hardest one I've had in a while.  Not because I've physically lost so much ground from when I used to run regularly (and let me tell you, I can't believe how out of shape I am these days).  But because it was hard to get myself psyched up to actually do it. 

I think that I've felt so defeated by my body recently.  After my surgery in October, I had a string of complications where my body just wouldn't stop having problems.  It hurt *so* badly.  And I think mentally, I have gotten used to thinking "oh, I can't do that." 

Last night, I proved that I could.  I may not have anywhere close to perfect form when it comes to any of the exercises.  My breathing may not be great.  And let's face it, I'm going to have to get my dumbbells out of storage because the huge plastic bottles of liquid aren't exactly easy to hold on to.

But I did it. 

My arms are sore.  My quads are sore.  My knees are aching a tad.  Even thinking about rising out of my office chair is enough to make me groan in advance.  But I'm on cloud nine.

The first day getting "back on the wagon" with diet seems to be harder than any other day.  And the first workout is about the same.  It's daunting.  It feels like a huge obstacle, a huge burden.  For me, at least, the anxiety builds because I doubt myself as to whether I can actually do it.

But when you triumph?  It feels awesome. 

For all you Biggest Loser fans, you might as well know that right now I have the BL theme in my head: "What have you done today to make you feel proud?"

Today, for the first time in a while, I actually have an answer.

*Also, if you're curious about what my take is on the 30 Day Shred, let me know and I'll post a bit of a review on it.  I love some DVDs but sometimes I feel reluctant to buy new ones without hearing how someone I "know" liked it.  It has a few pros and cons (just like anything).  Alternately, I'd love to know what DVDs you guys really love.

Scouring old wounds

While I was out on sick leave, I watched a lot of television.

Scratch that, I watched a WHOLE BUNCH of a lot of television.

There were two shows that really stood out to me and they were both Oprah shows.

The first was of Portia De Rossi's interview circuit - right at the beginning of November.  She has a new book out, Unbearable Lightness: A Story of Loss and Gain and it's all about her struggle with her weight. 

She doesn't have the same weight problems I do (in that she was anorexic whereas I just binged), but we have something in common: we both used to hate our bodies and we both used food as an attempt to control our lives.

I found myself glued to the TV when she was speaking about her issues.  Because I swear, I could've been saying the same thing.

"It's not the weight gain from the six ounces of yogurt that worries me.  It's the loss of self-control.  It's the fear that maybe I've lost it for good. [...] It crosses my mind to vocalize my thoughts of self-loathing. [...] You're nothing.  You're average.  You're an ordinary average, fat piece of sh!t.  You have no self control. [...] As I reach the bathroom and wipe away the last of my tears, I'm alarmed by the silence; The Voice has stopped.  When it's quiet in my head like this, that's when The Voice doesn't need to tell me how pathetic I am.  I know it in the deepest part of me.  When it's quiet like this, that's when I truly hate myself." (capitalization of The Voice, mine)

A year ago, I believed the words above more often than not.  Being a survivor of molestation by a close family member will do that to you, I suppose. 

Every family is a system.  It's own rules and ways of dealing with things.  My family dealt with the "big issues" by ignoring them.  Smoothing over the rough spots, behaving as if nothing happened that was horrible, disgusting, and traumatizing.  My dad was an officer in the Army and my mom did her best interpretation of what an officer's wife should do.  Look great, be obedient, and toe the line.  We followed suit.  Never raise your voice in public.  Always smile.  Give someone else the right of way.  Turn the other cheek.  Be gracious.  Listen to others, don't speak out.  Be a perfect little lady.

When my dad's eyes clearly roved to his interns, my mom looked the other way.  When my father lashed out to my mom in verbally unkind ways, we all silently went to our rooms as if to pretend it didn't happen.  When someone had a bad day, we all vowed to try to make it better in ways that only co-dependents can do.  Don't TALK about the bad day, just do what you can to make it better.

And when I was molested, I held the secret deep in me.  My mom let my dad treat her poorly and she didn't stand up for herself - why would I trust her with the secret?  She wouldn't have made it stop; in my mind, she couldn't have made it stop.  Why would I tell my dad?  He was frustrated with me just being a kid - he volunteered to be on call at the hospital so that he wouldn't have to be at home.  His dislike for us was read loud and clear.  Best to keep it to myself.  To not bother someone with it.

The problem with living in a family system of secrets and unsaid things is that it's like a deep wound.  Something cuts horribly; it hurts deeply.  And if you don't clean the wound of all the debris, dead tissue, and unclean things, it just festers.  It gets infected.  It gets hot to the touch; unbearably sensitive.  You can wear clothing to cover it and you can try to dress up other parts of your body to detract attention from it, but the truth is still there - festering, uncomfortable, painful to think about, and very, very real.

So 2010 was my year to remove the clothing, to take away the dressings, and to strip the rest of my wardrobe of the tricks I used to attract the eye away from my wound.  I stopped being the class clown at work and with people.  I stopped being the loudest in the room and started really listening.  I stopped needing to be right.   I stopped watching out for everyone else at my own expense.  I stopped being the co-dependent sister.  I started having healthy boundaries.  I started showing myself some self-respect.  I started to love both the me that didn't deserve to be touched 25 years ago and the me that gained weight to 280 pounds.

And at Christmas, I spoke with my abuser and told her what her actions did to me.  I told her how it made me hate myself all these years.  I told her how it's not a matter of forgiveness of the actions that she did - I forgive her of that.  It's coming to terms with The Voice that has told me that I'm worthless all these years. 

In January of 2010, I wanted to be healthier in my mind, body, and spirit.  How'd I do? 

Well, I'm 8 pounds heavier.  I'm sure I couldn't run a mile if I needed to as I haven't run one in 3 months.  I'm weaker.  I've lost muscle tone.  My abdomen is bigger.  I worked hard the previous year to lose 55 pounds - and here I am having lost just a bit over 40.

But my spirit?  It's lighter by far.  I've battled with some serious demons this past year and I'm still alive and kicking. 

My mind?  It's stronger than it's ever been.  Because there is something missing.  The Voice.  A year ago, I heard the voice daily if not multiple times during the day.  It had been my constant companion for years, such that I had tuned out what it was saying - keeping only the bad feelings around that it always brought with it.  But when I actually listened to it back in August, I realized that it's just an old record that is no longer relevant.  Slowly but surely, The Voice is gone. I'm not sure when I heard it last, but I sure don't miss it.

In fact, I was looking at some pictures from Christmas just now and saw a few that (ahem) aren't as flattering of me as others are.  My first thought wasn't of me being disgusting and unworthy of love (as it always has been) but rather of a renewal of my resolution to get in better shape.  I used to only notice the muffin tops over jeans, but now I notice the sparkle in my eyes and the sheen to my hair.  I can finally say that I am pretty.

This past year, I've cleaned out some wounds - ones that have been paining me for decades.  It hasn't been fun.  It hasn't felt good.  But it was the right and healthy thing to do. 

Right now, my wounds are in the process of healing over, of scabbing.  Ultimately, there will always be a scar there; I won't ever forget what happened.  But I don't have to live in fear of someone discovering it either.  I don't have to cover them up and I don't have to try to avert someone's eyes from it. 

For 2011, my goals are simple.  I want to be healthier in mind, body, and spirit.  In 2010, I chased away demons and scoured my wounds.  In 2011, I want to let the wounds heal and I want to honor myself.

The Voice has always told me that I couldn't lose all the weight.  The Voice has always told me that being thin meant being sexier and that meant that harm would come.  Being thin was desirable, but it wasn't safe.  But since The Voice is no longer present, it doesn't have a say.

This year?  It's my year to reach my healthiest weight.  

My fibroid is gone.

I'm healed.  I'm whole.  I'm healthy.

It's time to start acting like it.

Just this once

As I mentioned yesterday, I've been sick.

And now, Joe is sick.  I feel SO bad about it...perhaps it's because we've been living with each other for only 6 months, but this is the first time that a bug has passed from one of to the other - and I feel kind of bad.  Certainly it wasn't intentional, but still...

Because of that, we're out of the best drug on earth - Sudafed PE.  These orange capsules are amazing at getting rid of my colds faster than anything else - and no, they're not paying me to say that.

So I stopped by Walgreens on my way to work to pick up some more pills, some Zicam, and Echinacea.  That's when I saw it...

The Halloween display.

Aisles of candy.  Mouth watering candy.  Binge worthy candy.

And I start thinking, "My workplace has been so difficult lately.  I should bring in candy to help celebrate the season; to make my co-workers feel that they are cared for and to make people want to stop by my desk to distract me from work that I really don't want to do."

Usually when I have these thoughts, I buy candy that I don't like.  It used to be because I felt that I couldn't trust myself around candy - what would happen if I ate one??  I'd buy the "good stuff" for the trick-or-treaters that came by my house, but only on October 31st.  The next day, I'd drop off the bag at my local Weight Watchers meeting so that they would give it to homeless or needy people (needy skinny people?).  Actually, I'm not quite sure WHAT they did with it...or if that's a nationwide thing or not.  Maybe Jams can pipe in here.

Then, after I started this whole "intuitive eating" process, I decided to trust myself around candy again - starting with bags of dark chocolate.  Whereas once I'd find myself shoving handfuls of baking chocolate chips in my mouth at home, one bag of dark chocolate has lasted me months here at work and it's still not all gone.  When it was around and I could have as much as I wanted, I didn't crave it as much.  WIN!

Surely that meant that I could have "fun size" candies at work now, right?  Uh, not so much apparently.  Remember the time right around Labor Day?  I bought a "fun size" compilation for work and felt like I ate eleventy billion pounds of it.

I think that having *that* much candy around makes me feel vulnerable and panicky.  Should I sit with those feelings?  Yes.  But I also know that I'm sick, I'm tired, and I'm worried about The Deficit.  Those things make me more susceptible to eating anyway - the last thing I need to do is fuel my eating with things that will make me feel even worse (physically).

And still, at Walgreens at 7 AM this morning, the thought came into my head, "Just this once.  You're in tune with what you're worried about and what you're feeling, now - it's not like last time.  Just buy one bag of candy you like to *see* if you can conquer it.  Won't you feel so good if you have victory over stupid candy?"

I admit.  I hesitated.

I was torn because I want to show that I'm trustworthy around all types of food - not just when things are perfect in my life.  I want to be sick, with a chapped nose, a screaming baby, and to see candy bars (or something just as yummy) and not be tempted.

The thing is, I also want to run a half marathon.  I also want to get a puppy.  I want to buy a new car.  I want to quit my job.

But I don't do those things because I'm not prepared to do those things, yet.  My life situation is not equipped to handle those things...just as it's not equipped to handle a completely stressful situation without turning to food primarily.  I'm not perfect; I may overeat when I'm sick, tired, or worried, but it's not responsible to have the stuff around that makes me feel even more ill. 

It's not that I'm saying that I can't have chocolate.  In fact, it was pretty empowering to stand there, arms full of medications, and know that I could have anything I wanted in that store.  I can have that today or right now if that's what I want.  I just want to be mindful about it. 

Jumping from where I am now to being completely intuitive and not feeding my emotions is a pretty big leap - one that I know that in my present state I'm not too likely to be able to make.

So instead, I bought two bags of candy that were on sale.  Mary Janes if you must know - not a treat I crave at all, but one that I know my co-workers have enjoyed in years past.

  

I actually feel pretty great right now - way better than when I was fearful about what I might stock in my wire pumpkin.  And way better than when I forbid myself to have "bad" candy.  Right now my mindset is "It's just candy...a compilation of various forms of sugar."

It feels so great to have clarity around these types of things...even if it's just this once.

Fabulous fifteen

It's been a while since I've reached for something that felt a little scary.

Last week, I decided to enroll in the Hot 100 Day Challenge hosted by South Beach Steve.  Note: it's not too late to join in!!  It's a 100 day challenge that started on Thursday and goes until the end of 2010.

So far?  I'm totally on track.  I've washed my face each night and have even remembered to take my daily vitamin.  I've also been building up my speed/distance for a 10K. 

It feels good to do good things for myself.

BUT Big Clyde stated that he needed something that was more short term and less...well...far off.

I completely agreed.

His challenge?  To decide on a number that we would run, bike, hike, whatever over the weekend.

Decide on that number and then DO it.

HIS weekend started on Friday and ended last night.

Like any good partier knows, the weekend TECHNICALLY consists of Friday night until Monday morning when you have to go to work.  So that's when MY weekend was.

I claimed the number 15 - through cycling and biking.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnd I DID IT! :)

Running Saturday evening on the treadmill at our workout room:

Biking Saturday after the run:

 Running outside (and OH did that feel good!) this morning:

 and biking at the workout room afterwards...

TADA!

That's a total of 15.35 miles.

YIPPEE!

It felt really good to be a part of a short term goal group - and since I knew that Big Clyde was going to persevere, I wanted to do my part too.

It feels good - to set a goal that is a bit scary but doable - and to achieve it.  Plus, I found that cycling after running actually makes my knees feel better...so I might add a few miles at the end of each run anyway.

At the risk of sounding like a song on The Biggest Loser, what did you do this weekend that made you feel proud?

And, if you haven't already done so, it's not too late to enter into the Laughing Cow sweeps for this month.  One lucky commenter wins $150 on a VISA card to spend on whatever they want.  There have been SO FEW people commenting that BOTH of the previous months' winners have been followers of this blog.  With the holidays coming up, who couldn't use $150?  You can enter by writing anything funny in the comments section on my review blog.  If you want more entries, you can tweet about it, blog about it on your page, or just visit the other funny reviewers and enter their contests too.  It's so frickin' easy!  WAY easier than 15 miles of exercise.

Who AM I?

This weekend was fantastic.  I really wouldn't have changed a thing.

I'll share pictures and details from my 5K run on Saturday morning later (I don't have my camera with me and I haven't download the pictures yet) but I want to say that I did the race in my fastest race time yet!  I'm pretty proud.

After the 5K run, Joe and I hit up Snooze (one of our favorite breakfast places) and shared a pancake.  I ate about 1/8 of my breakfast meal, but stopped because I was no longer hungry.  Did it taste good?  OH MY WORD, yes.  But I'm really trying to practice living my life at a level 5 on the hunger scale.  So far, it works wonderfully.  Moreover, it's a more loving way to treat my soul and my body.

Plus, now I have a yummy breakfast to re-heat for tomorrow. :)

We went back home and took a nap for 5 hours (and boy did I need it!), woke up and enjoyed a dinner of cheeses, fruits, and whole grain crackers.  We capped off the night cuddling on the couch and watching Terminator, a movie that I hadn't previously seen (I know!  I should be shot!) and was surprisingly good.

What I'm really proud about was our day on Sunday...

We got up, worked out (I did some upper body weight lifting as I really think that doing that will help some of my back pain issues) and then decided to have a quick bite to eat before helping his grandparents out.  The time?  10:45ish.  We couldn't find a breakfast eatery that wasn't packed with people (and on the way), so we opted to stop at a Heidi's deli.  Joe had a breakfast sandwich but I had...

A VEGGIE SANDWICH.

Alright, truth time.  Whenever any of you have talked about eating veggie foods or sandwiches, I've thought "Ew.  Why would you do that when you could have MEAT?" 

But a few weeks ago at the Mile High Music Festival, I had a veggie wrap.  And after that I realized that all veggie foods aren't bad.  In fact, they're downright tasty.  They've been our go-to food when at movies and leave me much more satisfied than I ever thought they would.

So back to my sandwich.  It was a toasted thin bagel with avocado, cream cheese, sprouts, tomatoes, onions, and cucumbers.  SO delicious.

It hit the spot in a major way.

They shook their heads in disbelief when we turned down the free chips and potato salad.  It just didn't appeal to either one of us.

We didn't end up eating lunch (I had a few almonds and some cheese and crackers during the Broncos game), and for dinner we had fresh sushi.  Man, do I love me some sashimi (which is how I know I could probably never be a true vegetarian).

On the way home from sushi, we walked by a Dairy Queen.  Joe asked if I wanted a blizzard...and if you've been reading my blog for long, you probably know the answer to this.  I ALWAYS want a blizzard.  It's my go-to binge food.  It's the "food" that I've turned to comfort SO many times, I've lost count. 

But I was satisfied.  And truthfully, a piece of dark chocolate at home would've been all I needed.  So I passed on the blizzard.

I'll repeat that, I PASSED ON A BLIZZARD.

My point is, when left to find out a) if I'm hungry and b) what it is that I truly want, my body leads me the right way EVERY time.

This may not seem like a big deal to you.  Maybe you restrict yourself in such a way that this seems like no big deal.  But to me, it's huge.

I turned down food that I normally would've eaten because I didn't actually want it.  I wasn't hungry for it.

I'll be the first to say that I have issues with food that go WAY beyond being hungry.  So the fact that I chose healthy options because *I* wanted to (not because someone told me I couldn't or shouldn't have it) was huge.

Moreover, it gave me hope that my identity as a food addict is changing. 

Home in the range

This weekend I thought a lot about my revelation from Friday.  I may be a bit biased, but when I made the connection between sleep and food, I was really blown away at how profound it was.

The result?  I've lost 4 pounds since coming back from Peoria (and gaining 3 pounds while there) this week - just by paying attention to my hunger levels and making sure that it doesn't get out of control.

I think of my hunger scale like this:

1 - starving hungry; the hungriest I've ever been
3 - hungry; when I drop to this level (or below) it's probably time to eat
5 - satisfied; neither hungry nor full
7 - feedback that indicates I ate a bit too much the last time I ate
10 - stuffed; as in what it feels like to finish a binge

I don't think I've ever felt a 1...but I can't tell you how many times I've felt a 10.

The thing I've concentrated on this past week was where I was on the hunger scale/range.  I aimed to always be a "5" on the scale...which meant that I was always satisfied. 

So if I was at a 4, I could determine if I wanted to eat to be a 5, or if I wanted to be hungrier (to let myself get down to a 2 or 3) so that I could fully enjoy a meal with Joe.

I've tuned out my hunger range for so many years, it's actually taken MONTHS to fine tune my hunger...but I think I'm finally getting the hang of it.

I'm also realizing that even though I CAN have brownies, cakes, pastas, and ice creams, I'm not craving those - not really.  THAT has felt wonderful...and has prompted me to be proud of myself.

Take Friday:
     My workplace had some training arranged during our lunch break.  But it was going to be in the 70s.  So I asked my boss if I could have a 45 minute lunch (before the actual lunch presentation) and work late to make up for it...he said yes.  At 11:00 I ran my 5K and came back in just enough time for the training - and discussion that followed.  Initially, I wasn't hungry right after my run.  But during the Q&A, I was starting to get hungry.  I could've had what everyone else was pigging out on (Qdoba Mexican buffet) but instead I wanted a veggie sandwich that I had in the fridge - aka no where near me.  I ended up getting to eat at 2:30 (after the presentation), but I really enjoyed what I ate. 
     I came home and Joe and I decided to see "The Switch" - a movie out in theaters now with my lifelong crush, Jason Bateman.  I knew that I could have any dinner I wanted - or cokes and candy at the theater.  But instead, a wrap with hummus, guacamole, and fresh sliced veggies sounded delicious.  So that's what we had.  We made them, wrapped them up and smuggled them in the theater.  Sure, I broke a guideline of eating while distracted, but I made sure that I was hungry when we started eating.
     We finished the movie and Joe suggested that we go across the street to my new favorite dessert place, Pinkberry.  I thought about it and realized that I was still at a 5.  I also knew that I could have the frozen yogurt another time if I wanted it.  So instead we went home and...

My point is, being more in tune with my body and it's hunger signals is taking a lot of pressure off.  I'm feeling like I'm living more in the moment and less in fear about what I will do when I get hungry or full.

Saturday we enjoyed dinner and ended up going to Pinkberry and sitting downtown to enjoy the freaks sights that were out at night.

I guess what I'm saying is that I really enjoy being at a 5.  With the absence of stomach sensation, I'm able to enjoy all the other parts of my life much more.  It's taken (and will continue to take) practice.

Huh.  I think they call that "living."

Vulnerability

This past weekend, I enjoyed another Mindful Yoga/Mindful Eating classes.  I first started going in February and have only missed one class - which was the weekend that Joe and I celebrated our anniversary in Steamboat with a 10 1/2 mile hike.

I love these classes.  There is a lot of discussion about how we can all be more mindful about food and our eating; about how we can have a more harmonious relationship with food.  There is some really gentle yoga (it's gotten more passive/gentle as the months go on) and then there is a mindful eating exercise...which basically means that we sit around in a circle, chewing the food slowly and trying to taste every morsel that should be tasted.

I love these classes.

We're also talking a lot about Geneen Roth's book "Women, Food, and God."  If you haven't read the book, I highly recommend that you do.

There are several things that have struck me as profound - and I'll share some in the weeks to come.

This past week, Erica, our leader talked about Geneen's chapter titled: Never Underestimate the Inclination to Bolt (which is actually a quote by Pema Chodron).  And in this chapter, she talks about how bolting - by vegging out via TV, binge eating, drinking, or even checking out mentally is a way to avoid our lives.

Geneen writes about how she tells the people that come to her retreat and might want to bolt:

      I tell them that if compulsive eating is anything, it's a way we leave ourselves when life gets hard.  When we don't want to notice what is going on.  Compulsive eating is a way we distance ourselves from the way things are when they are not how we want them to be.  I tell them that ending the obsession with food is all about the capacity to stay in the present moment.  To not leave themselves.  I tell them that they don't have to make a choice between losing weight and doing this.  Weight loss is the easy part; anytime you truly listen to your hunger and fullness, you lose weight.  But I also tell them that compulsive eating is basically a refusal to be fully alive.  No matter what we weigh, those of us who are compulsive eaters have anorexia of the soul.  We refuse to take in what sustains us.  We live lives of deprivation.  And when we can't stand it any longer, we binge.  The way we are able to accomplish all of this is by the simple act of bolting- of leaving ourselves - hundreds of times a day. 
      But that doesn't touch the sudden realization - and the subsequent panic - that they really don't want to sit in the center of their own lives.  It's one thing to say you want to stop using food to numb yourself.  To be miserable about the size of your body.  To feel as if you are killing yourself with double cheeseburgers and fries.  But slowing down, asking yourself what is actually going on when you want to eat when you aren't hungry, watching how you inhale three muffins before you even realize you're eating - that's going to far.  There is something about accepting the unpredictable fragility of this life that is just too much.  So the very minute they begin feeling or sensing or thinking something that is uncomfortable, they want to get out of Dodge. (emphasis mine)

Wow.  To me, that's profound. 

Last week, I started asking myself if this whole mindful eating thing could actually work.  Sure, Geneen says it's possible.  So does my therapist.  But the harder I try, the more elusive it feels.

How could I be successful with this long term?

I felt like a rat in a maze - and I was SO tempted to go back to the points system via Weight Watchers.  At least that was something that I knew...something that has worked for thousands of peoples.  I know because I see commercials.  I read your blogs.

But this weekend, after Erica read the excerpt above, I remembered that my problem isn't about food or portions.  It's about how sometimes I want to leave my life SO badly, I'll do anything to check out.

To me, it's about vulnerability.  Sometimes, I'm so scared of what The Voice* will say when I'm quiet.  When I'm sad, I'm afraid I won't be heard and that I won't be understood.  When Joe and I argue, I'm afraid he'll leave.  When I think about getting a puppy or a cat, I'm afraid of it dying.  When I make a new friend, I'm sometimes afraid of her turning on me.

When I post something significant to me, I'm afraid of the negative feedback I get.  I'm afraid I'll lose more followers.  I'm afraid I'll disappoint you.

But really, I'm not afraid of vulnerability...I'm afraid of being afraid of vulnerability.  In other words, when all the negative things that make up The Voice start combining and I know I'm going to hear awful things about me, I bolt.  When The Voice just opens it's mouth, I check out and run.  I don't even want to hear what it has to say - what if what it says is so horrible I can't go on?

This past weekend, after the yoga class, Joe and I got into a fight - about women's clothing of all things.  He got SO frustrated...and I couldn't understand why clothing that he had no intentions of wearing was making him so upset.  The more I tried to understand, the more frustrated he became and it culminated in us raising our voices, which is very atypical.

He went to go take a shower, and I felt so sad.  I actually thought about binge eating while he was in the shower.

But instead I stopped.  I shut the door to the bedroom and I cried.  I decided to practice listening to The Voice.

So I did.  The Voice said this:
"You are a horrible girlfriend.  You could tell that he was getting frustrated, but you kept pushing!  Why would you do that?  You're just like your mother...always nagging.  Didn't your dad tell you that men don't like nagging women?  He's going to leave.  You know that, right?  He's going to come out of that shower and say that this isn't working and that he wants you to move out.  Just like your dad did.  What will you do then?  You'll be all alone.  Just goes to show you shouldn't trust anyone.  And who are you going to find who will love your fat self?  No one.  You are a failure."

Whew.

So I heard her out.  And after a while, The Voice didn't have anything original to say.  In fact, The Voice has been saying those same things my whole life.  How did I not realize that until now?

And they aren't true.  If my relationship with Joe ends, then it ends.  Life goes on.  I'm not a horrible girlfriend.  I'm thoughtful, considerate, giving, and compassionate.  I don't always nag.  I was trying to understand why he was so frustrated - it wasn't nagging.  I *can* trust people.  And as for who will love my fat self?  Well, I think it's about time that I do.

And just like that, The Voice lost it's power.  I stood up, wiped the tears from my eyes, and got some water.  I waited until Joe got out of the shower and I calmly explained why I was pushing so hard for an answer - I wanted to understand him.  He apologized for getting so frustrated.  I explained that sometimes I feel like a bad girlfriend when we fight.  He said that all couples argue.  I said I was worried that this might make me a bad wife.  He said that my thoughtfulness, compassionate, and willingness to try again will make me an excellent wife.  I explained that I love him - and that out of all the people in the world I wanted to fight with, he would be last on that list.  He said the same about me.

This weekend, I had the courage to stay, to not bolt or check out when my life seemed scary.  I stood up for myself.  Even though I was vulnerable.  Even though I was scared.  Even though I felt bad for myself.

Like any good episodic movie/TV series, I know that I will have to face The Voice again and again.  But by facing it when I was most vulnerable and defeating it, gives me hope that I can do so again and again.


*No.  I'm not schizophrenic.  The Voice is basically my own self negative thoughts that I really do think - a mixture of parents or parental figures throughout the years that have told me I wasn't good enough - and that I should be better.

So what happens now?

In the musical Evita, there is a song entitled, "Another Suitcase in Another Hall."

The gist of the song is this: Evita goes to Buenos Aires expecting to make it big as an actress, dancer, or anything, and instead gets many rejections.  She asks, "So what happens now?" continually and the people in the song answer back, "another suitcase in another hall...take your picture off another wall...you'll get by you always have before."

And still she continues the cycle - asking what should happen after her most recent rejection...

Until the last time that she asks, "So what happens now?" where a photographer answers back "Don't ask anymore."

It's like the simplest answer, right?

If asking a question repeatedly stresses you out, stop doing it.

All of that was a (probably poorly written) segue into my life.

The past few weeks, as I've been walking past storefront windows (which are everywhere downtown), I've been catching glimpses of myself in the window.  And when I see myself - walking alongside Joe, my sister, friends visiting from out of town, or even one of the homeless people that are always around, I find myself amazed at just how big I look.  I look EVERY time there is a window that I can see my reflection in.  I look, I reflect, I judge, and I self loathe.  That's the cycle.

This morning, I enjoyed a small celebration on the scale - which showed a number lower than what it has been in a week or two.  I've been battling my eating the last several weeks, so seeing a smaller number has been a long time coming.  When I got dressed, I felt smaller, I felt confident, I felt proud of the food choices I have been making.

And yet - on the way to my car, I noticed the window - and the person staring back at me was the same frumpy, fat person she always is.

When I look at the window reflection, I see myself exactly like how I did at my heaviest weight. I look slumpy, with a large waist, and no chin. I look huge, unkempt, and unbelievably fat. I immediately start feeling bad about myself, my looks, and my self confidence plummets.

I'm tired of looking and seeing someone that I was 50 pounds ago.  I'm tired of hearing that critical Voice inside my head telling me that each change, each bite, each decision that I make that is healthier isn't making a difference on the outside.  The Voice tells me that I never will see a smaller reflection, so I might as well give in and live the gluttonous life of the person I resemble.

So what happens now?

I'm determined to change my reaction to the girl in the window reflection.

So what happens now?

I'm determined to life a healthy life - one that nurtures my body, my mind, and my spirit.  I will make positive choices that affect these areas of my life.

So what happens now?

Since I can't seem to see the reflection without judging and hurting my spirit, I'm telling myself, "Don't look anymore."

It was the first of many positive choices that I made and will continue to make today.  I stood up for ME even though it would've been easier to reply the same record.  I made a healthy choice - to let go of the relationship with the girl in the window - after all, she makes me feel bad every time I see her. 

I feel empowered, I feel great, and I feel like I can do this.

So, I ask you...what happens next in your life?

I was bumped in Denver and all I got was this lousy t-shirt...

A few months ago, I bought an airplane ticket to go to Chicago for Christmas. My father and grandmother live there and my two sisters were planning on being there for the holidays. I paid for the ticket online via United's website. I paid with my credit card. I got a confirmation number stating that I had bought my ticket.

On Monday morning, I got an email from United Airlines - stating that I was now free to check in. I checked in online 23 hours before my flight took off. United Airlines gave me four chances to upgrade my seat...but since I had already paid almost $600 for my seat, I didn't really want to pay more money. Four times, I clicked the button that indicated that I'd keep my plain ol' seat.

When I clicked through and printed what should have been my boarding pass, I saw that it was actually a travel document, not a boarding pass. I called the 800 number and was assured I had a seat.

Tuesday morning, I checked in at the airport over two hours before my flight was to take off and asked the agent about the travel document labeling. "Oh!", she said. "That happens all the time. They'll assign you a seat at the gate."

I went to the gate and immediately stood in line hoping that the agent would assign me a seat.

They did not ever assign me a seat.

Turns out, you can be "involuntarily denied boarding" because the airline oversells seats. They needed 15 people to be willing to take later flights in order for me to board the flight. They only got 12.

We were told that they would try to get us out that day, but they couldn't make any promises. Since I only had 3 full days with my family planned, losing a whole day and night did not exactly make my day.

In the end, after raising my voice and explaining my needs to the agent, the supervisor, and eventually the director, I (and two other people that were also "involuntarily denied boarding") got seats on the next flight out and the promise of a round trip ticket for free.

I'm not proud of the way that I acted towards the agent, the supervisor, and the director. I was so mad at the time. I still think it's absurd that you can BUY a ticket, you can check-in 24 hours early, you can show up at the airport early and you can do everything right and you STILL don't get what you were promised.

For the past 15 years, ever since I starting taking flights by myself, the airport meant frozen yogurt, chips, candy, greasy fast food, and anything else I could think to indulge in. Somehow I'd convinced myself that diets didn't matter in the airport. Doesn't everyone know it's so hard to eat healthfully in the airport? So then, why even try? High fat and calorie food choices are everywhere in airports. Everyone eats it, so who am I to be different? Traveling is the perfect excuse to eat whatever I want - a built in alibi.

The thing is, after I got a new boarding pass, I realized I was hungry. My sensible breakfast in the morning (one I'll share in a later post) had worn off as it was now 5 hours later. I had (smartly, I think) sliced apples at home and put lime juice on them to keep them from turning brown. I had the slices in a baggie, but I knew that wasn't going to hold me another 4 hours.

I could've decided that that morning had been hard enough and that I DESERVED to treat myself. I was still pissed that I was in that situation. I was mad that I was inconvenienced. I was sad that I wouldn't get to see my sisters until much later. I was worried that my dad was going to get mad at me for being late. I was sad that I wasn't going to see my grandma at all that day...she has dementia and who knows how many more visits I have left to see her? I was disappointed with how I acted towards the agents. Just because they were poopy heads doesn't mean that I had to stoop to their level. I wanted sugar, I wanted the lift of simple carbs. I wanted to just feel better. I could've decided to eat my emotions.

OR I could've taken the time (and boy did I have a bunch of it!) to find a healthy alternative even if it was in another terminal.

And, that, my friends, is exactly what I did.

I ended up going to Itza Wrap/Itza Bowl and had a few bites of brown rice, veggies, and chicken. It wasn't delicious. It wasn't soothing. But it was the healthiest option I had at the time. It wasn't a decision I made out of emotion.

As I sat at the table and stared down at my food, I realized that for the first time in my adult life, I actually ate something healthy ON PURPOSE at the airport.

And that's when it hit me... Airports aren't kind to diets. But I'm not on a diet. My new way of living involves me forgiving myself for some bad choices that I make involving how I treat other people. My new way of living doesn't involve me soothing myself with food. My new way of living allows me to treat my body with respect and to honor it by giving it the fuel it needs.

I'm not perfect. Even though I've had this "new way of living" as a mindset for many months, I don't follow this approach all of the time. But I did THIS time. And this moment, right now, is what matters.

I know that the agents didn't mean to be crappy to the passengers of my flight. I know that they were stressed. I know that getting bumped from a flight sucks, but it wasn't THAT big of a deal. Sometimes bad luck just happens.

It's like that adage - if the problem isn't hunger, the solution isn't food. Eating crappily wouldn't have changed my situation, so why do it? Why fill my body with foods that would make it feel more sluggish and possibly have made my headache at the time worse?

I changed a habit on Tuesday morning...and THAT is worth way more than a round trip ticket any day.