I can't call these weekly weigh ins anymore. Afer several years of dieting now, weekly updates seem a bit unnecessary. The last several weeks have gone by without the support of a Weight Watchers group. I've losely tracked the points in my food, on a few very depressed days indulged in a nasty binge, then regrouped and got my food discipline back in place. My binge and a few days of painful fluid retention that my prescription diuretics wouldn't help caused a ten pound gain. Ten pounds in less then two weeks. How fast my body gains weight always surprises me. Getting back on the good food wagon wasn't easy. I didn't want good nutritious vegetables. I was still craving pizza and nachos with spicy salsa, cool guacamole and sour cream. However, I was out of balance. I'd indulged in the fatty foods I'd been craving and it was time to bring more fruits and veggies back. It worked. This morning when I weighed in, I was at 247.4, only four tenths of a pound more than I was three weeks ago. While it is a gain, I'm proud. Having a binge is a human behavior. It's not the end all and be all of dieting bad behavior. It's a slip up, and I made sure that I didn't stay down. That's why I'm proud.
Weight change: +.4 pound, Total weigh loss: 132.6 pounds
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
My problems with Fat Acceptance
I've been surfing through Fat Acceptance blogs, and as usual, I came away with such mixed feelings. I've been promoting self acceptance regardless of size since before I'd ever heard of NAAFA, and that was when I was a teenager. I've known for a long time that I was way more than my ample body, and that my worth shouldn't depend on such a superficial standard. I'm also a dieter, and I'm proud of what I've accomplished with relearning and rebuilding food and exercise habits.
That's the essential conflict for people seriously concerned with Fat Acceptance. Some would say that because I diet, I'm a self-loathing sellout trying to fit a stereotype and a shameless praise seeker because I'm a public dieter. My quickest and easiest response to that is, "Bullshit." However, like most quick and easy answers, it's neither completely true nor false, and I want to have the guts to admit it.
I'm never going to fit the currently desired mold for a woman. I'm built big and round. I always have been, and I always will be. The top target goal weight for a woman of my height in the Weight Watcher's program (that I would recommend to anyone who wants to lose weight) is less than I weighed when I graduated from high school, and I feel it's a bit unrealistic that I'd ever successfully maintain that weight 30 years down the road. Even if I did reach that weight, I'd still be a size that others call fat. In black and white thinking, that leads to two choices, give up on dieting or continue to diet only to still be marginalized.
Well, here's the deal. I won't be marginalized. I was told for years that a woman of my size could not work successfully in outside sales, yet that's how I supported my family for years. I've worked to be treated with respect by health care providers and let the disrespectful ones know why they lost my business. (If you don't see medicine as a profit based business as well as a healing profession, where the hell have you been?) I've made every effort to dress well, including complaining to stores that provided shoddy service or merchandise to larger people or no merchandise at all. I've called bigots on their fat prejudices both privately and publicly. Do not tell me that because I diet I can't be pro-fat acceptance. I don't expect every one to care about my diet results. I don't need the whole world's support or praise, but my journey through weight loss, and my relationship with food and body image is of interest to some people, and I love the support they've given me.
I know that I'll never have the "ideal" body, and that's not what I'm shooting for. I'm shooting for health and physical comfort. As I've gotten older, some of this fat has gotten harder to carry. Multiple knee and ankle injuries have both been eased by shedding some weight. I support Health At Every Size, but I also want Health At Every Age, and what my body could handle in my 20s and 30s is different than what I can do nearing 50. That brings up another bone of contention about the fat acceptance blogs I read.
Every blog author who identified their age range was significantly younger than I am. To be fair, many authors did not identify their age. While the standard of beauty is near an all time thinness, the degree of fat acceptance now is higher than it has ever been in my lifetime. Praising anorexics for self-starvation is now regarded as a sick thing to do. When I was a teen, those behaviors were encouraged and praised for their discipline. More than one well meaning person suggested to me that I should make myself sick every now and then when I was a kid. On top of that, I've gone through more years of putting up with crap about my size, and it has taken a toll.
I do have body image issues. I won't deny them. A vertical cut C-section (on which I was not given a choice but at the time didn't care) bisected my stomach muscles, and no amount of exercise will eliminate that weakness. Pregnancy, breastfeeding and aging have made permanent changes in my breasts. I'd love for my boobs and belly not to sag. Nothing will get rid of the scars left by a chronic illness that is not caused by weight. Aging and weight loss combined have had me rethink some positions on plastic surgery. I like being pretty, and I think I could look better. I also think I already look pretty damn good and don't really want to look like a kid again. I don't think that my appearance is always up for judgment, and I think that people who feel compelled to judge every woman's appearance have more issues than I do. I also have some food issues. I don't hoard and binge on candy bars or chips, but there are times I misuse food. I went on a structured diet in part to build healthier eating habits and get good in perspective. It's tricky territory. In reading the FA blogs, more than once I got the feeling that the authors held the attitude that if someone did admit to dealing with self and body acceptance issues, it meant that they were hopelessly unenlightened. Granted, that's a perception and not an accusation, but words can be slippery things.
Fat Acceptance is an issue that affects both the personal and political arenas. I want a level playing ground for everybody, and we're nowhere near that. Work has to be done in the public arena to halt the demonization and scapegoating of fat. On the personal side, what I do with my body is my business. You can like or hate my decision to diet, but either way, it's my choice.
fat acceptance, dieting
That's the essential conflict for people seriously concerned with Fat Acceptance. Some would say that because I diet, I'm a self-loathing sellout trying to fit a stereotype and a shameless praise seeker because I'm a public dieter. My quickest and easiest response to that is, "Bullshit." However, like most quick and easy answers, it's neither completely true nor false, and I want to have the guts to admit it.
I'm never going to fit the currently desired mold for a woman. I'm built big and round. I always have been, and I always will be. The top target goal weight for a woman of my height in the Weight Watcher's program (that I would recommend to anyone who wants to lose weight) is less than I weighed when I graduated from high school, and I feel it's a bit unrealistic that I'd ever successfully maintain that weight 30 years down the road. Even if I did reach that weight, I'd still be a size that others call fat. In black and white thinking, that leads to two choices, give up on dieting or continue to diet only to still be marginalized.
Well, here's the deal. I won't be marginalized. I was told for years that a woman of my size could not work successfully in outside sales, yet that's how I supported my family for years. I've worked to be treated with respect by health care providers and let the disrespectful ones know why they lost my business. (If you don't see medicine as a profit based business as well as a healing profession, where the hell have you been?) I've made every effort to dress well, including complaining to stores that provided shoddy service or merchandise to larger people or no merchandise at all. I've called bigots on their fat prejudices both privately and publicly. Do not tell me that because I diet I can't be pro-fat acceptance. I don't expect every one to care about my diet results. I don't need the whole world's support or praise, but my journey through weight loss, and my relationship with food and body image is of interest to some people, and I love the support they've given me.
I know that I'll never have the "ideal" body, and that's not what I'm shooting for. I'm shooting for health and physical comfort. As I've gotten older, some of this fat has gotten harder to carry. Multiple knee and ankle injuries have both been eased by shedding some weight. I support Health At Every Size, but I also want Health At Every Age, and what my body could handle in my 20s and 30s is different than what I can do nearing 50. That brings up another bone of contention about the fat acceptance blogs I read.
Every blog author who identified their age range was significantly younger than I am. To be fair, many authors did not identify their age. While the standard of beauty is near an all time thinness, the degree of fat acceptance now is higher than it has ever been in my lifetime. Praising anorexics for self-starvation is now regarded as a sick thing to do. When I was a teen, those behaviors were encouraged and praised for their discipline. More than one well meaning person suggested to me that I should make myself sick every now and then when I was a kid. On top of that, I've gone through more years of putting up with crap about my size, and it has taken a toll.
I do have body image issues. I won't deny them. A vertical cut C-section (on which I was not given a choice but at the time didn't care) bisected my stomach muscles, and no amount of exercise will eliminate that weakness. Pregnancy, breastfeeding and aging have made permanent changes in my breasts. I'd love for my boobs and belly not to sag. Nothing will get rid of the scars left by a chronic illness that is not caused by weight. Aging and weight loss combined have had me rethink some positions on plastic surgery. I like being pretty, and I think I could look better. I also think I already look pretty damn good and don't really want to look like a kid again. I don't think that my appearance is always up for judgment, and I think that people who feel compelled to judge every woman's appearance have more issues than I do. I also have some food issues. I don't hoard and binge on candy bars or chips, but there are times I misuse food. I went on a structured diet in part to build healthier eating habits and get good in perspective. It's tricky territory. In reading the FA blogs, more than once I got the feeling that the authors held the attitude that if someone did admit to dealing with self and body acceptance issues, it meant that they were hopelessly unenlightened. Granted, that's a perception and not an accusation, but words can be slippery things.
Fat Acceptance is an issue that affects both the personal and political arenas. I want a level playing ground for everybody, and we're nowhere near that. Work has to be done in the public arena to halt the demonization and scapegoating of fat. On the personal side, what I do with my body is my business. You can like or hate my decision to diet, but either way, it's my choice.
fat acceptance, dieting
Saturday, November 1, 2008
The weekly weigh in
I found out this week my insurance got cancelled, yet another fun thing in my life now. That means that my time as an official Weight Watchers member is over. Until I'm gainfully employed again, I'm going this on my own, and I'm just grateful that it's really pretty routine now. The group support means a lot though, and I'll miss it, but I'm lucky. I have a lot of support from my family and friends, and that helps a lot.
My biggest challenges will continue to be keeping enough variety in my diet to keep food fun and interesting. It's so easy to do the same meals over and over until my body is screaming for something new. Food should be a pleasure, and it's taken me a long time to get that back. Eating healthily is not just a discipline. It has meant expanding my palate to a wider variety of tastes. It has meant eating consciously, and savoring my food. I craved McDonald's french fries today but couldn't finish my order. I let myself really taste them, and they were really good, but only a touch of grease and salt were all I needed to be satisfied when my mind and mouth were simultaneously engaged. Honestly, the biggest food challenge I face is allowing the time to plan and prepare good meals for one. Food is a necessity. Enjoying food is a matter of principle. Time spent just on doing something nice for myself is a luxury.
That last point really brought home to me that the lessons I've learned through this diet journey have more to do with life and how I want to live than with food or body shape and size. This long haul of a diet has reinforced to me that I have value and am worthy of good treatment and respect. The changes in my body have not made me valuable. I've just learned to treat myself better, and that has helped create some changes. It's the simplest lessons that have to be driven home over and over again.
This morning, I stepped on the scales for the first time in days, a good thing for me. That's a lessening in some of the diet related obsession. My weight was 247.0. I lost 2.4 pounds in the last week even with Halloween candy, bringing my total weight loss to 133 pounds. I'm feeling pretty good.
diets, weight loss
My biggest challenges will continue to be keeping enough variety in my diet to keep food fun and interesting. It's so easy to do the same meals over and over until my body is screaming for something new. Food should be a pleasure, and it's taken me a long time to get that back. Eating healthily is not just a discipline. It has meant expanding my palate to a wider variety of tastes. It has meant eating consciously, and savoring my food. I craved McDonald's french fries today but couldn't finish my order. I let myself really taste them, and they were really good, but only a touch of grease and salt were all I needed to be satisfied when my mind and mouth were simultaneously engaged. Honestly, the biggest food challenge I face is allowing the time to plan and prepare good meals for one. Food is a necessity. Enjoying food is a matter of principle. Time spent just on doing something nice for myself is a luxury.
That last point really brought home to me that the lessons I've learned through this diet journey have more to do with life and how I want to live than with food or body shape and size. This long haul of a diet has reinforced to me that I have value and am worthy of good treatment and respect. The changes in my body have not made me valuable. I've just learned to treat myself better, and that has helped create some changes. It's the simplest lessons that have to be driven home over and over again.
This morning, I stepped on the scales for the first time in days, a good thing for me. That's a lessening in some of the diet related obsession. My weight was 247.0. I lost 2.4 pounds in the last week even with Halloween candy, bringing my total weight loss to 133 pounds. I'm feeling pretty good.
diets, weight loss
Sunday, October 26, 2008
The Weekly Weigh In
I used to put just which week I was in on my weekly weigh in entries. However, just how freaking long have I been doing this now? I really have lost track.
I think I'm in the beginning of my third year with Weight Watchers. That's a little scary, but I've also learned the absolute best lesson about dieting that I could have: Don't impose a timeline on your body as you're learning to change your habits. This way it truly becomes a lifestyle change rather than a diet. So much of Weight Watchers just feels truly natural to me now. I automatically count my points as I eat. As I've crossed weight and age thresholds, I've adjusted my daily points downward without having to think about it. Water, fruit and veggies are just what I consume, and if I don't, I miss them. I've accepted that weight fluctuations are just normal, and that plateaus, even lengthy plateaus, are just part of dieting.
I've still got a lot that I need to change. This week, I've been fighting cravings. Cravings are normal and natural. I firmly believe that a craving is sometimes just your body telling you what it needs. Those are good cravings, even if the food you're craving isn't one that's traditionally considered a good-for-you food. That kind of craving is a reinforcement of the mind-body-spirit connection. Then there are the cravings that aren't so good for you. I'm not talking about the craving for potato chips that is satisfied after eating a moderate serving, and you realize that all you're tasting is grease and salt. I'm talking the ones that just won't go away.
For me this week, it was bread and butter. I'm not a big bread person. Oh, I enjoy restaurant bread sticks and rolls, and I have friends who make homemade breads to die for, but bread is normally a food that I can just take or leave. Not this week. The womanchild did the grocery shopping for me this week. Her frugality means that she doesn't necessarily pick out the brands, particularly the diet brands for certain foods that I do. I usually get a one point for two slices diet brand of whole wheat bread. She picked up plain white bread. One afternoon, it felt like I just couldn't stop. One plain piece of white bread slathered with real butter after another. I actually ate more than half my points for the day on bread and butter. Real butter -- that's a food item I don't compromise on. I'll take a real food over processed chemical margarine any day. The extra calories are worth the taste, and normally I use butter with extreme caution.
Now, I believe that a little indulgence every now and then is not only normal but healthy. This was different though. It was a binge. I was not in control. I'd quit really enjoying the food a good while before I quit buttering the bread, and I just had that sick, compulsive feeling in my emotional gut. It was the latter that got me off the butter trail. I wasn't going to do this to myself any longer. I did have to use some extra discipline to stop the binge. I called a friend who is excellent at helping me look at myself and what's really going on in my life. I put both the bread and butter where they weren't immediately visible. I went out and worked in the yard. Eventually the cravings did go away, but they served as a good reminder not to give up on learning more about eating healthy both emotionally and physically.
Despite the binge, I lost 1.6 pounds this week. That makes my current weight 249.4 and my total weight loss 130.6 pounds. This is less than I've weighed in 20 years.
weight loss, diets, Weight Watchers
I think I'm in the beginning of my third year with Weight Watchers. That's a little scary, but I've also learned the absolute best lesson about dieting that I could have: Don't impose a timeline on your body as you're learning to change your habits. This way it truly becomes a lifestyle change rather than a diet. So much of Weight Watchers just feels truly natural to me now. I automatically count my points as I eat. As I've crossed weight and age thresholds, I've adjusted my daily points downward without having to think about it. Water, fruit and veggies are just what I consume, and if I don't, I miss them. I've accepted that weight fluctuations are just normal, and that plateaus, even lengthy plateaus, are just part of dieting.
I've still got a lot that I need to change. This week, I've been fighting cravings. Cravings are normal and natural. I firmly believe that a craving is sometimes just your body telling you what it needs. Those are good cravings, even if the food you're craving isn't one that's traditionally considered a good-for-you food. That kind of craving is a reinforcement of the mind-body-spirit connection. Then there are the cravings that aren't so good for you. I'm not talking about the craving for potato chips that is satisfied after eating a moderate serving, and you realize that all you're tasting is grease and salt. I'm talking the ones that just won't go away.
For me this week, it was bread and butter. I'm not a big bread person. Oh, I enjoy restaurant bread sticks and rolls, and I have friends who make homemade breads to die for, but bread is normally a food that I can just take or leave. Not this week. The womanchild did the grocery shopping for me this week. Her frugality means that she doesn't necessarily pick out the brands, particularly the diet brands for certain foods that I do. I usually get a one point for two slices diet brand of whole wheat bread. She picked up plain white bread. One afternoon, it felt like I just couldn't stop. One plain piece of white bread slathered with real butter after another. I actually ate more than half my points for the day on bread and butter. Real butter -- that's a food item I don't compromise on. I'll take a real food over processed chemical margarine any day. The extra calories are worth the taste, and normally I use butter with extreme caution.
Now, I believe that a little indulgence every now and then is not only normal but healthy. This was different though. It was a binge. I was not in control. I'd quit really enjoying the food a good while before I quit buttering the bread, and I just had that sick, compulsive feeling in my emotional gut. It was the latter that got me off the butter trail. I wasn't going to do this to myself any longer. I did have to use some extra discipline to stop the binge. I called a friend who is excellent at helping me look at myself and what's really going on in my life. I put both the bread and butter where they weren't immediately visible. I went out and worked in the yard. Eventually the cravings did go away, but they served as a good reminder not to give up on learning more about eating healthy both emotionally and physically.
Despite the binge, I lost 1.6 pounds this week. That makes my current weight 249.4 and my total weight loss 130.6 pounds. This is less than I've weighed in 20 years.
weight loss, diets, Weight Watchers
Saturday, October 18, 2008
The Weigh In
This plateau I've been on has been driving me crazy, and when something is making me nuts, I have to find a way to either change or make peace with the situation. Being the list maker that I am, I first had to determine what the possible root of the problem was and came up with several possible solutions.
1. A nine month plateau could be a signal that this weight, though significantly overweight is where your body wants to be. It's a very viable possibility.
2. I haven't been truly diligent about points tracking. I'm into my second year of this. It's routine. Worse, it's old. I've been around longer than some of the instructors. When I go to meetings, I'm not hearing much new anymore, and new info keeps me motivated and going.
3. Possibly, I haven't made the best food choices for awhile. That won't explain nine months, but it will part of it.
4. I know I've been less active. There's no doubt about that. I don't remember the last time I did Pilates. The exercise ball is dusty, and I haven't been walking in over a week. Definitely not good. This is not the only spell I've had like this.
These are four good, viable options. Each of them has its own merit. The first is both the most comforting and the scariest. This doesn't get the media's attention like the "obesity epidemic", but there are overwhelming amounts of scientific evidence that a person has little control over their body size. Fat people tend to stay fat, and thin people tend to stay thin. I don't think I'll ever be thin. I'm just not built that way. Rounded breasts, belly and hips are a part of me. They always have been. I look at my thin daughter, and she has a belly at barely over 100 pounds. That said, I'd still like to be smaller. I'd like to take more pressure off my knees and ankles. I want to really be able to hike again, not just walk on a level track. There are all sorts of reasons to keep this weight loss up. That is, if my body isn't at that range it says is normal for me. If that's true, continuing to diet is just beating my head against a wall, and I want the gray matter I have left.
The other three possibilities I listed are controllable behaviors. It only take a minute or two after every meal to track my points. Eating good food for me has always been a simple issue of planning well with respect to my budget. The last is the easiest to control. All I have to do is stay off my butt. Since I made my list, I've done well at controlling 2 and 3. I've had lots of veggies, cut down more on soft drinks and upped the water intake. I'm making efforts to stay on my feet and moving good chunks of the day, even if it's traditional exercise. So far, so good
This morning, I went to my Weight Watchers meeting. I missed last week. I knew I'd lost some weight. I could feel it, but I really wanted to know now much. I'd lost 6.6 pounds in two weeks, bringing my total weight loss now to 129 pounds. This is officially the smallest I've been in 21 years.
Am I off my plateau? I don't know. It's too soon to tell, but today's weigh in felt so good, and I just want to keep on going.
diets,weight loss, Weight Watchers
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
67% of My Size
Last night I watched People Magazine's Half My Size Challenge on TV. I was actually hoping to see some people who were half the size they used to be, because if I reach the Weight Watchers healthy weight range for a woman of my height, I will have lost more than half my size. I may not have gotten to see people who have done that, but I still got a good dose of inspiration and a few smiles recognizing the struggles the Mississippi Eight faced.
I've needed a boost. I started trying to make changes in my life and health four years ago. I found myself weighing close to 400 pounds. I hurt with every step I took, but after nearly an entire lifetime of diets, I'd practically given up. I had resigned myself to being an uninsurable, socially unacceptable object of ridicule and probably dying young. To rehash some previously blogged history, I decided to just start trying to live in a healthier way. In two years, I'd lost close to fifty pounds. In the elasticized world of plus sizes, that meant one pants size and a difference in my appearance that felt minuscule. For fifty pounds.
When my blood pressure skyrocketed after a lifetime of being in a normal range, I decided to up the effort. My doctor recommended that I join Weight Watchers. I've been doing this for two years now, and have dropped another 80 pounds. That brings my weight loss now to 124 pounds. I am proud of that, and I've worked very hard to accomplish that. I've now dropped seven clothing sizes and don't hurt when I walk...unless I really push myself harder than I need to go yet. I no longer sleep with a CPAP for sleep apnea and my blood pressure is normal with the help of medication.
I've got good solid evidence that this is working for me. That alone is motivation. However, I'm still 82 pounds over the top of my recommended weight range. I weigh one pound more now than I did in January. I gained seventeen pounds between January and May and lost 16 of them since June. Basically this year has been one big weight loss plateau. Honestly, my body is comfortable here, and my appearance has changed dramatically. I enjoy having a hint of a waistline but know the hard truths about how fat fills in wrinkles and age affects upper arms.
So, what's the big fat deal? Having lost this much weight, I ought to feel fantastic about myself, my discipline and stick-to-it-tiveness. I ought to feel like a role model, and instead, blah. It's not enough that I've lost a whole lot of weight. I've actually lost more than my daughter's entire weight. It's like a whole person has left my body. I've done it slowly -- the healthy, sane and sensible way to lose weight --and that makes it feel like no big deal. Plus, I'm still fat -- really fat. I no longer feel like a grotesque caricature of a woman. Saying I'm an attractive woman isn't just an effort to build up my self-esteem. It's the truth. It's been three years since a person threw a milkshake at me from a moving car while yelling an insult about my size, but sales girls still give me that look and say, "We don't carry anything to fit you." And I still have skinny acquaintances who think I lie about stuff like that.
My mind keeps circling around instant gratification. Is this truly significant weight loss and life change less meaningful because it's taking time? I feel like I should already be at my goal weight, and honestly feel like somewhat of a failure because I'm not. I know my lack of satisfaction is linked to more than my weight. Much of the last year has been a huge emotional ass whipping.
To keep up the work I want to do, I need to feel good about what I've done. Yes, you can take that as a shameless plea for positive feedback and praise, but it's also "just the facts". If I'm not deriving pleasure from my results, I simply won't keep up with the process. Part of my mind is judging the merits of goals, motivations and inspirations, and another part is wondering how I can feel pleasure again.
Last night's TV show helped. I don't remember the name of the dieter who touched me the most, but she was a young black woman who lost only 19 pounds and worked damned hard for every ounce. The change in her body was noticeable as they had their final weigh in. I wish I had her dedication to exercise. I can't even imagine trying to run a 5K, and she completed one. She was in last place, and every other contestant went back to join her as she crossed the finish line. She had the courage to perform in a belly dancing recital, and she was absolutely beautiful. I was truly inspired.
I still don't enjoy exercise, but I really want to. Even with the cooler temperatures, walking is a still a chore. After only two miles I'm dripping sweat, huffing and puffing and feel like I can't go on. I know I used to feel that way after making it to the end of the block. I just haven't found an aerobic exercise that feels right to me, and I need one. I want one. Besides the fat burning, I want to improve my flexibility and grace, and I'd love to pick my c-sectioned belly up off my thighs. Current circumstances mean this has to be something I can do solo, and I need to broaden my search.
I know the challenges I'm facing, and they're a little intimidating. However, I am keeping on and will continue to take off.
I've needed a boost. I started trying to make changes in my life and health four years ago. I found myself weighing close to 400 pounds. I hurt with every step I took, but after nearly an entire lifetime of diets, I'd practically given up. I had resigned myself to being an uninsurable, socially unacceptable object of ridicule and probably dying young. To rehash some previously blogged history, I decided to just start trying to live in a healthier way. In two years, I'd lost close to fifty pounds. In the elasticized world of plus sizes, that meant one pants size and a difference in my appearance that felt minuscule. For fifty pounds.
When my blood pressure skyrocketed after a lifetime of being in a normal range, I decided to up the effort. My doctor recommended that I join Weight Watchers. I've been doing this for two years now, and have dropped another 80 pounds. That brings my weight loss now to 124 pounds. I am proud of that, and I've worked very hard to accomplish that. I've now dropped seven clothing sizes and don't hurt when I walk...unless I really push myself harder than I need to go yet. I no longer sleep with a CPAP for sleep apnea and my blood pressure is normal with the help of medication.
I've got good solid evidence that this is working for me. That alone is motivation. However, I'm still 82 pounds over the top of my recommended weight range. I weigh one pound more now than I did in January. I gained seventeen pounds between January and May and lost 16 of them since June. Basically this year has been one big weight loss plateau. Honestly, my body is comfortable here, and my appearance has changed dramatically. I enjoy having a hint of a waistline but know the hard truths about how fat fills in wrinkles and age affects upper arms.
So, what's the big fat deal? Having lost this much weight, I ought to feel fantastic about myself, my discipline and stick-to-it-tiveness. I ought to feel like a role model, and instead, blah. It's not enough that I've lost a whole lot of weight. I've actually lost more than my daughter's entire weight. It's like a whole person has left my body. I've done it slowly -- the healthy, sane and sensible way to lose weight --and that makes it feel like no big deal. Plus, I'm still fat -- really fat. I no longer feel like a grotesque caricature of a woman. Saying I'm an attractive woman isn't just an effort to build up my self-esteem. It's the truth. It's been three years since a person threw a milkshake at me from a moving car while yelling an insult about my size, but sales girls still give me that look and say, "We don't carry anything to fit you." And I still have skinny acquaintances who think I lie about stuff like that.
My mind keeps circling around instant gratification. Is this truly significant weight loss and life change less meaningful because it's taking time? I feel like I should already be at my goal weight, and honestly feel like somewhat of a failure because I'm not. I know my lack of satisfaction is linked to more than my weight. Much of the last year has been a huge emotional ass whipping.
To keep up the work I want to do, I need to feel good about what I've done. Yes, you can take that as a shameless plea for positive feedback and praise, but it's also "just the facts". If I'm not deriving pleasure from my results, I simply won't keep up with the process. Part of my mind is judging the merits of goals, motivations and inspirations, and another part is wondering how I can feel pleasure again.
Last night's TV show helped. I don't remember the name of the dieter who touched me the most, but she was a young black woman who lost only 19 pounds and worked damned hard for every ounce. The change in her body was noticeable as they had their final weigh in. I wish I had her dedication to exercise. I can't even imagine trying to run a 5K, and she completed one. She was in last place, and every other contestant went back to join her as she crossed the finish line. She had the courage to perform in a belly dancing recital, and she was absolutely beautiful. I was truly inspired.
I still don't enjoy exercise, but I really want to. Even with the cooler temperatures, walking is a still a chore. After only two miles I'm dripping sweat, huffing and puffing and feel like I can't go on. I know I used to feel that way after making it to the end of the block. I just haven't found an aerobic exercise that feels right to me, and I need one. I want one. Besides the fat burning, I want to improve my flexibility and grace, and I'd love to pick my c-sectioned belly up off my thighs. Current circumstances mean this has to be something I can do solo, and I need to broaden my search.
I know the challenges I'm facing, and they're a little intimidating. However, I am keeping on and will continue to take off.
Half My Size Challenge, 100 pound weight loss, weight loss, motivation, exercise
Saturday, August 30, 2008
This poor neglected blog
Last fall I lost internet service for a few months, and then I had to suspend Weight Watchers for a while. After that, well, my life hit some challenges, and I just haven't felt like blogging. During this interim, I didn't give up trying to lose weight or trying to figure out this complicated relationship I have with food, size and body image. As for the rest, life is still challenging, I don't really feel like blogging, but I know this has been a powerful tool for me, and writing about weight, diet, body image, beauty and exercise is easier than writing about the rest of my life now. When it comes to blogging, I'm definitely a personal blogger. However, I've been steeped in "the personal is the political" for most of my life, so make of that what you will.
It hit me the other day that I've been seriously involved in improving my health and eating habits for a little over four years now. During that time I've lost a little over 122 pounds. It took me two years to lose fifty pounds by just trying to live in a healthier way. The last two years (with a three month interval where I tried to work the program on my own but wasn't officially registered) I've been on Weight Watchers. I still have over 90 pounds to lose before I reach a recommended weight for a woman of my age and height. Whether I choose to reach that specific weight is still up in the air. I want to see what weight I'll be where I'm comfortable with both my health and appearance.
Fourteen weeks ago I rejoined Weight Watchers. In that time, I've lost 15.8 pounds. I'd lose a few pounds one week and gain a few the next. I've kept a graph tracking my weight loss. The weekly ups and downs drove me crazy. Then I changed it to show just my monthly results. The data is the same, but that line is much more visually appealing. It's a little thing but it helps me ride up the temporary gains and plateaus. I've learned that my favorite espadrilles weigh 1.6 pounds and my flip flops weigh .6 pounds. When I was weighing with and without shoes at home (because you have to wear shoes at meetings), I just had to laugh at myself. That's the kind of craziness I've tried to avoid in treating this as not a diet. Being able to recognize it and laugh at it was a victory for me.
I'm definitely back in the healthy foods realm of eating, lots of veggies and lots of water, and this feels good. So many people I know have gardens that I stayed stocked in tomatoes, zucchini, okra, squash and peppers. There really is nothing like food fresh from the soil. There's a world of difference in eating a strawberry grown four miles down the road and one shipped to Tennessee from California. I'm sorely tempted to plan a small garden for next year. Vegetable stands keep me in fresh peaches, melons and cantaloupes. Maybe it's having a vegetarian daughter, but I've come to love beans after hating them most of my life.
I'm also exercising more, walking regularly, doing some yoga and pilates and working with hand weights. I've given up my gym membership because I wasn't using it. I do miss the weight machines, but I was missing them while paying dues, and I can miss them with a little more money in my pocket. The other night, I walked for two miles. It may not sound like much, but it's a big improvement for me. Better mobility is one of the best benefits of weight loss for me. My knees and ankles don't grind with every step now.
This year, I've felt like I've been hit with a lot, and taking care of myself hasn't been easy, but it's been important, and I'm proud of what I've done.
diet, 100 pound weight loss, Weight Watchers
It hit me the other day that I've been seriously involved in improving my health and eating habits for a little over four years now. During that time I've lost a little over 122 pounds. It took me two years to lose fifty pounds by just trying to live in a healthier way. The last two years (with a three month interval where I tried to work the program on my own but wasn't officially registered) I've been on Weight Watchers. I still have over 90 pounds to lose before I reach a recommended weight for a woman of my age and height. Whether I choose to reach that specific weight is still up in the air. I want to see what weight I'll be where I'm comfortable with both my health and appearance.
Fourteen weeks ago I rejoined Weight Watchers. In that time, I've lost 15.8 pounds. I'd lose a few pounds one week and gain a few the next. I've kept a graph tracking my weight loss. The weekly ups and downs drove me crazy. Then I changed it to show just my monthly results. The data is the same, but that line is much more visually appealing. It's a little thing but it helps me ride up the temporary gains and plateaus. I've learned that my favorite espadrilles weigh 1.6 pounds and my flip flops weigh .6 pounds. When I was weighing with and without shoes at home (because you have to wear shoes at meetings), I just had to laugh at myself. That's the kind of craziness I've tried to avoid in treating this as not a diet. Being able to recognize it and laugh at it was a victory for me.
I'm definitely back in the healthy foods realm of eating, lots of veggies and lots of water, and this feels good. So many people I know have gardens that I stayed stocked in tomatoes, zucchini, okra, squash and peppers. There really is nothing like food fresh from the soil. There's a world of difference in eating a strawberry grown four miles down the road and one shipped to Tennessee from California. I'm sorely tempted to plan a small garden for next year. Vegetable stands keep me in fresh peaches, melons and cantaloupes. Maybe it's having a vegetarian daughter, but I've come to love beans after hating them most of my life.
I'm also exercising more, walking regularly, doing some yoga and pilates and working with hand weights. I've given up my gym membership because I wasn't using it. I do miss the weight machines, but I was missing them while paying dues, and I can miss them with a little more money in my pocket. The other night, I walked for two miles. It may not sound like much, but it's a big improvement for me. Better mobility is one of the best benefits of weight loss for me. My knees and ankles don't grind with every step now.
This year, I've felt like I've been hit with a lot, and taking care of myself hasn't been easy, but it's been important, and I'm proud of what I've done.
diet, 100 pound weight loss, Weight Watchers
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Catching Up
I've been without internet for a few weeks, but I haven't quit working Weight Watchers. It's now been one year and seven weeks, and I've lost 80. 8 pounds. The last few weeks have not been easy. I had a four week plateau for the month of September. That was so frustrating that I then gained weight for the first three weeks of October. Gaining weight three weeks in a row scared me. Everything I'd heard or read about how diets don't work, and everybody regains the weight they lose and more, my experiences doing exactly that just pounded through my head.
I took a good look at where I had been, where I was now and then imagined where I could be. That's what I want. I'll never be skinny. The weight I want to weight won't even be thin by most people's standards, but I have the feeling that it's going to be just right for me. I gave up feeling worried and rebellious about tracking my food, and just started doing it again. It's no big deal really, but I had mentally worked it up into a big hassle. Now I just do it. I've also lost for the last three weeks in a row and weigh less now than I did before I got pregnant with the seventeen year old womanchild. I'm back on track. I've been gently humbled, strongly encouraged, and I'm actually wanting to exercise. It's all good.
Total loss -- 80.8 pounds. I'll figure out the other numbers later.
I took a good look at where I had been, where I was now and then imagined where I could be. That's what I want. I'll never be skinny. The weight I want to weight won't even be thin by most people's standards, but I have the feeling that it's going to be just right for me. I gave up feeling worried and rebellious about tracking my food, and just started doing it again. It's no big deal really, but I had mentally worked it up into a big hassle. Now I just do it. I've also lost for the last three weeks in a row and weigh less now than I did before I got pregnant with the seventeen year old womanchild. I'm back on track. I've been gently humbled, strongly encouraged, and I'm actually wanting to exercise. It's all good.
Total loss -- 80.8 pounds. I'll figure out the other numbers later.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
The belly
Though I'm trying to move away from the obsession that dieting can bring, my body is still heavily on my mind. I've been wondering lately if a lot of what I've thought as weight obsession is really shape obsession. I've been browsing plus size shopping sites lately, something I've never really done. When you pass the standard plus sizes, you don't dare buy anything without trying it on. Even the measurements provided by the better catalogues and web sites aren't always reliable, and the amount of elastic in plus sizes can sometimes make sizes meaningless.
One of the sites I visited gave style recommendations by body shape. There were the standards that I knew, the rectangle, the apple, the hourglass, the pear, the inverted triangle, but they also included one I'd never seen in any fashion magazine or catalogue -- the oval. Well, goodness, here was finally the shape that fit me: broad, sloping shoulders, full breasts, high defined waistline not small enough to form a true hourglass, round belly, full hips, flat ass, small (in comparison) legs and arms, delicate wrists and ankles. First, I got tickled thinking that I was just a big stack of eggs, then I got ticked thinking how much time I've spent hating my shape.
I could play football without shoulder pads. Going from a training bra to a D cup at the age of ten was its own special hell. I've been grateful for the legs and arms though. I can't really call my legs small. I was a long distance bike rider when I was a teen, and that developed prominent muscles, including broad strong calves. However, they and my small wrists and ankles did allude to both the strength and delicacy my body possessed.
...i am determined
to love my body
I live here in this body.
It is home
However, no matter what I did, there was the belly, and that was the worst.
Oh, how I've hated having such a stomach. When you carry your weight front and center, there's no hiding it. I've longed for flat abs all of my life, and no matter how many stomach crunches I've done, the belly just wouldn't go away. The first time I watched Little Miss Sunshine, I nearly cried during the short scene when Olivia is backstage at the beauty competition, looking at herself in the mirror and sucking in her stomach. I remember being that age and younger and doing the same thing. (I looked amazingly like Abigail Breslin when I was a kid, the big eyes, the long hair, and that was my body.) Being pregnant furrowed my belly with stretch marks, and then delivery bisected it with a vertical C-section beginning at my navel and ending at its now double dipping lowest curve. I've joked that if I could turn my head around backwards, my stomach would now like a much better ass than my real derriere. On top of all that, hidranitis suppurativa has dotted it with raised purple scars that tunnel and get larger.
With beauty being only skin deep, my belly misses every aesthetic standard our culture has for a female body, yet I am determined to love my body. I live here in this body. It is home, and I've wasted far too many years loathing it. I doubt this belly will ever go away. I passed the belly gene onto the womanchild. When she weighed 88 pounds with every vertebrae and rib standing out, and she, I and a team of doctors and nutritionists were fighting for her very life, she still had a belly. I'm doing around 25 crunches a day, and the decrease in inches in my abdomen is markedly smaller in proportion to what I'm losing in other body parts. (25 may not sound like much, but when I started exercising around nine months ago, I was proud to do five.) The muscles severed by Caesarean will never have the strength and tautness they once had, and this skin is undeniably stretched beyond its ability to rebound.
So how do I love what I'm told is unlovable? By going back to basics! Though I may not have abs of steel, I have a cast iron stomach whose digestion is only marred by migraine induced nausea. That soft, roundness which makes me anathema to fashion does make me very comfortable. The daughter, cats, husband and former boyfriends can attest to that. I have a lap that is meant to hold living things wanting love, and I have the heart to give them that love. Right now, that's all I can think of, but that's a pretty good beginning. Strength, comfort and love centered in my belly, yep, that's good enough.
body image, belly
One of the sites I visited gave style recommendations by body shape. There were the standards that I knew, the rectangle, the apple, the hourglass, the pear, the inverted triangle, but they also included one I'd never seen in any fashion magazine or catalogue -- the oval. Well, goodness, here was finally the shape that fit me: broad, sloping shoulders, full breasts, high defined waistline not small enough to form a true hourglass, round belly, full hips, flat ass, small (in comparison) legs and arms, delicate wrists and ankles. First, I got tickled thinking that I was just a big stack of eggs, then I got ticked thinking how much time I've spent hating my shape.
I could play football without shoulder pads. Going from a training bra to a D cup at the age of ten was its own special hell. I've been grateful for the legs and arms though. I can't really call my legs small. I was a long distance bike rider when I was a teen, and that developed prominent muscles, including broad strong calves. However, they and my small wrists and ankles did allude to both the strength and delicacy my body possessed.
...i am determined
to love my body
I live here in this body.
It is home
Oh, how I've hated having such a stomach. When you carry your weight front and center, there's no hiding it. I've longed for flat abs all of my life, and no matter how many stomach crunches I've done, the belly just wouldn't go away. The first time I watched Little Miss Sunshine, I nearly cried during the short scene when Olivia is backstage at the beauty competition, looking at herself in the mirror and sucking in her stomach. I remember being that age and younger and doing the same thing. (I looked amazingly like Abigail Breslin when I was a kid, the big eyes, the long hair, and that was my body.) Being pregnant furrowed my belly with stretch marks, and then delivery bisected it with a vertical C-section beginning at my navel and ending at its now double dipping lowest curve. I've joked that if I could turn my head around backwards, my stomach would now like a much better ass than my real derriere. On top of all that, hidranitis suppurativa has dotted it with raised purple scars that tunnel and get larger.
With beauty being only skin deep, my belly misses every aesthetic standard our culture has for a female body, yet I am determined to love my body. I live here in this body. It is home, and I've wasted far too many years loathing it. I doubt this belly will ever go away. I passed the belly gene onto the womanchild. When she weighed 88 pounds with every vertebrae and rib standing out, and she, I and a team of doctors and nutritionists were fighting for her very life, she still had a belly. I'm doing around 25 crunches a day, and the decrease in inches in my abdomen is markedly smaller in proportion to what I'm losing in other body parts. (25 may not sound like much, but when I started exercising around nine months ago, I was proud to do five.) The muscles severed by Caesarean will never have the strength and tautness they once had, and this skin is undeniably stretched beyond its ability to rebound.
So how do I love what I'm told is unlovable? By going back to basics! Though I may not have abs of steel, I have a cast iron stomach whose digestion is only marred by migraine induced nausea. That soft, roundness which makes me anathema to fashion does make me very comfortable. The daughter, cats, husband and former boyfriends can attest to that. I have a lap that is meant to hold living things wanting love, and I have the heart to give them that love. Right now, that's all I can think of, but that's a pretty good beginning. Strength, comfort and love centered in my belly, yep, that's good enough.
body image, belly
Friday, September 28, 2007
Why the secrecy?
I have one question that bugs me more than anything. What do I really look like? Oh, don't get me wrong, I know I look like me, but we live in a world of comparisons and benchmarks. It's also a world of lies, spins, deletions, obscurities and omissions. A woman's weight definitely falls into that category. It's considered more appropriate to ask someone their salary than it is to ask a woman her weight. These numbers are guarded like state secrets, and I'm really wondering why. I've been diet blogging for over a year now, and have still never directly mentioned exactly how much I weigh. It took me nearly a year before I could 'fess up to having weighed over 300 pounds.Regardless of what size I wear or the inches I measure on a tape, I have no clue how that compares to other women. I've always felt like the largest woman in whatever room I was in, no matter what I weighed. I drive my family crazy by asking, "Am I about her size?" I'm never right. With my weight loss, I can't even eyeball clothing and guess that it would fit. My initial choices in clothing are always too large, and I always pick women who are a little smaller. Fearful/wishful thinking? I don't know.
So, what's the big deal? There's no denying I'm fat. Will people think I'm a much worse person if they know the number that goes with the fat than they do if they guess? Am I just moderately repugnant at say 190? a little disgusting at 225? gross at 250? katie bar the door obscene and a threat to our values at 300? or am I the same smart, sweet, funny, thoughtful, provocative, open minded, over the hill southern belle you've come to know and love? (See, I have done some work on that self esteem thing!)
So, when I came across this challenge, it floored me. People, this takes courage! Heck, I've never even had the guts to put out a full body pic in nearly four years of blogging. Looking at the results of her straw poll guessing game was even more interesting. I'm not the only one who has no clue what size people are!
So, I'm inspired, and I'm tired of hiding. I'm Cynthia. I'm 47 years old, 5'8", I weigh 259.6 and wear a size 24. I think I look pretty damn good.
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