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Food Diary

A long time and many posts ago I shared that dislike keeping a food diary. I recognize that it is an important tool in my recovery but that doesn’t mean I joyfully embrace the practice of logging my food. This is a long standing dislike from way back in the days before there were smart phones with apps where we could input our daily food electronically. Hell, it goes back to the days before personal computers.

I’m not sure why I dislike it now, but I’ve figured out why I was always resistant before. Denial. Putting anything down on paper makes it all black and white. I understand now that a lot of my eating was unconscious. Okay, I wasn’t actually, physically unconscious when I ate, as in eyes closed, lights out. However, in the throes of a binge, I could eat and eat and eat and not be logically, completely aware of the foods. I was completely overwhelmed by the behavior. It was hard, difficult, uncomfortable, and stressful to face the truth.

When I started going to a real therapist in 1991 and she told me I had an eating disorder, it was a big deal. Oh, I should point out here that I’d had the eating disorder for years but didn’t know it. You see, I thought there were only two eating disorders — anorexia and bulimia. Since I wasn’t starving or purging, I was completely in the, “I’m just a weak-willed slob who can’t control her eating” state of mind and emotion.

Anyway, in the early days of our work and my infancy in OA, the therapist helped me structure my abstinence. She told me that I needed to commit to a food plan and every morning I needed to write down what foods I would eat and how much. At that point in time, we focused on adjusting the behavior and not so much on the quantity. This meant that if I wrote down in the morning that I was going to have six pieces of pizza for dinner and that’s what I ate, that was okay. I’d committed and adhered to the abstinence I’d defined. However, if I wrote down that I was going to have two pieces of pizza for dinner and then I ate three or four or five, I was not being abstinent.

Sounds a little wacky, but it worked. It helped. The first few months of doing it this way, going to meetings and continuing with therapy got me on track and in recovery.

I did it, including keeping the food diary, because I wanted to recover and was willing to go to any lengths. Even so, I never grew to love logging my food.

I still don’t like it, but I do it, now using MyFitnessPal as an app on my phone. I’ve discovered an important correlation. When I don’t log my food for a few days, I come close to falling off of the wagon. That alone is enough reason to keep logging.

A couple good friends use MyFitnessPal and we all also have FitBits. We’ve “friended” each other on FitBit so we can see each other’s daily progress, cheer each other on in our physical activity, etc. I don’t use the food diary on that program. These friends each recently sent me invitations to friend them on MyFitnessPal, too. I thought about it and then wrote to each of them. I asked them to please not be offended but MFP is where I log my food and I don’t want to share that diary. It has nothing to do with them, it’s all me not being comfortable putting that info out for anyone to see but me.

I’ve had to do a little soul-searching to see why sharing my food diary is out of my comfort zone. At first I worried that it could be a case of fostering sickness in the secretiveness. Tonight I really pondered and meditated on it and had some strong realizations. I spent many years with other people judging my food and what I ate and their disapproval or worry exacerbated my stress and my shame. At a young age I became a skilled stealth eater. My food diary needs to be a place where I can be completely honest about what I’m eating — even if I don’t have a good day and eat off of my food plan.

I can’t do that if what I log on there can be read by other people. I will incessantly worry about what other people think and how they’ll react to the point where I won’t be honest. If I am not honest on my food diary it ceases to be a viable tool in my recovery.

To be clear, these are not judgmental friends. This is all about my old tapes, previous experiences, and personal issues. That said, it is not possible for me at this time to give up the reluctance and make my food diary readable to anyone but myself. My choice to not share is about me protecting the role that keeping a food diary has in my recovery. I don’t have to like doing it, but I need to keep doing it and I can’t afford to let anything interfere with me maintaining this practice with integrity.

My friends were cool and told me they understood. We’ll continue to encourage each other via FitBit and in person. We’re good.

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Pushing Through

I have to admit that I really needed to dig deep inside to find my motivation today and then push myself to follow through. Not to whine (too much) but I swear that everything hurts more the day after a mishap. I woke up this morning earlier than I needed to because I ached. I took it easy for a little while this morning, debating whether I should go to Tai Chi class. I walked the dogs and, at first, my muscles said, “No, No, No, No, No.”

I pushed myself to walk a little more and gradually my body loosened up. I came home and enjoyed my breakfast smoothie and hot tea and decided to go to class. On my bike.

I’m glad that I did. Sure, some of the moves challenged muscles that were sore, but the repetition slowly warmed and stretched things out and I ended up feeling much stronger than when we began. Strong enough to set out on the bike after class and do some errands. I stopped and bought the fresh cut flowers that I’d promised myself — white hydrangeas — and then cycled over to Office Depot for some envelopes that I needed before heading home. Maybe I didn’t attack the route flat out or rack up as much distance as I did all this week, but I still totaled up 5 miles plus the hour long Tai Chi class. Not bad, considering the aches and soreness.

Came home and took it easy for a few hours which included taking a short nap. Then I drove up for the real treat of the day, the massage. Have I mentioned before that the massage therapist is amazing? My shoulders and arms took the worst of the fall yesterday and she worked on them a lot. She identified a couple of muscles I’ve never heard of, but I could feel the benefits when she got the ones under my scapula to loosen up. When she finished I had better range of motion with less stiffness and pain.

I felt so much better that after a quick bit of grocery shopping I came home and took the dogs out for a long walk. They needed the mental stimulation and we all needed the exercise. I was at only about 6200 steps on my FitBit. The long walk boosted me to more than 9000 steps and I knew I could make up the rest tonight.

Tonight, I still have the residual soreness from the impact and bruising, but it’s so much less than it would have been if I still had the locked up muscles too. Hurrah for the healing touch.

I think it’s a positive sign that I looked for ways to take care of myself after yesterday’s tumble that didn’t involve binge eating. Had I not pushed through, I could easily have sat home, totally focused on the soreness and fallen into the old bad habit of feeding my pain. It feels great to have chosen a different, more beneficial and less destructive, set of behaviors.

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Slightly Damaged but Undeterred

It was bound to happen. Sooner or later I was going to take a spill off the bike. That happened this morning.

I’m not seriously hurt, thank goodness. Here’s what happened. I was on the bike by 6:15 this morning, merrily pedaling away on one of my favorite routes down the boulevard to the beach. According to the tracker on MapMyFitness, it is exactly four miles from my house to the end of the beach. I reached the circle/rotary at the end of the road, cycled round and, since I was now heading into the slight wind, pumped the pedals even harder to work up the cardio.

I veered up a driveway to go back onto the bike path but I was going a little too fast to straighten my direction enough. I tried to brake and veer but I had too much momentum. With a strong mental “Uh Oh”, I ran right off the path, through some ornamental tall grasses and then the bike and I tumbled off kilter down a three foot embankment onto someone’s lawn. (Someone who must be a snowbird because their hurricane shutters were still installed and no cars or grills were outside, thank goodness.)

For about 30 seconds, I just lay there on top of my bike waiting to feel any sharp, acute pain. When none stabbed me anywhere on my body, I untangled myself and stood up. Nope, no blood. Another good sign. I had plenty of sticky seed pods stuck on my clothes and sneaks. I picked up the bike and checked it out. Aside from my pretty white metal basket no longer being perfectly straight on all sides, my ride was okay too. I drank some water, took a deep breath, walked the bike back up the embankment and started riding again. I’ll admit I was a little shaken up, so I didn’t push the speed for the four miles home. I felt soreness in my right shoulder, stiffness in my left shoulder blade and a few assorted aches but, all in all, it could have been a helluva lot worse.

Got home and walked the dogs, feeling a bit proud of myself that even with the spill I logged my eight mile morning ride. I then walked in the door, swallowed the prescription-strength equivalent of ibuprofen and decided to spend a little longer amount of time under a hot shower.

I anticipated that I would grow more sore throughout the day. Thankfully, it wasn’t as extreme as I feared, but when I got home I stiffened up. I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner, but once I got home, I dreaded going out again. I took another dose of pain relievers and texted my friend. She completely understood, thank goodness. I hate when practicing self-care disappoints a friend. Still, I was a little down in the dumps. That’s dangerous because when I’m down, junk carbs begin speaking to me. “It won’t hurt. Come on. We’ll make you feel better. Eat us. You’ll be happy.”

Junk carbs lie. Even knowing this doesn’t mean I can always resist the lure.

Then I checked my FitBit and saw that I was only at 8300 steps for the day. It was rainy out and I was stiff and sore, all of which gave me more than enough justifiable reason to call it quits for the day. Darn it all, I wanted my 10,000 steps! Now I was in a full fledged whinefest. (Pity party of one, your table is ready.)

Luckily the rain stopped and I just couldn’t accept not making my step goal for the day so I put on the sneaks, ignoring a few remaining sticky seed pods, leashed the dogs and went out for a short walk before it began to storm again. Now up to 9500 steps, I was sooo close to the goal. I popped in the in-home walking program DVD for the one mile routine. That extra 15 minutes of exercise benefitted me mentally as well as physically. I went over 11,000 steps and, best of all, calmed the carb craving.

Now I’m going to soak in the tub before bed. Since tomorrow is Saturday, I don’t have to get up before dawn to log in my 45 minutes. I can do it any time. If the weather’s okay, I’ll ride my bike to Tai Chi class in the morning and ride around taking care of some other errands. I’ve booked a session with the massage therapist for the afternoon too. I’ll get in my cardio and my 10,000 plus steps before the end of the day and I pledge to stay on my food plan.

I am slightly damaged but definitely undeterred!

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Assessing Hunger after Exercise

I woke up a few minutes before 6 a.m. today. Since the day was a bit windier than it had been the previous days this week, I decided to change up my exercise routine and do my in-home walking program. I opted for the brisk 3-Mile program which kept me at a good cardio pace for about 45 minutes, working legs mostly but with arm exercising too. I then took the dogs for a walk before showering and getting ready for work. I made and drank a yummy fruit smoothie with protein powder while I packed my snacks and lunch.

Normally I eat something six times a day. I time the mid-morning snack for 10 a.m. It’s usually something light with protein — a small handful of nuts, a cheese wedge, a little bit of hummus with some veggies. You get the idea. This schedule has worked well since I went back onto food after surgery.

For the last couple of days, I’ve gotten hit by hunger at least 30-45 minutes earlier than my scheduled snack. I couldn’t figure it out and had to do a gut check to make sure that it was legitimate physical hunger and not emotional or mental issues trying to make me think I was hungry. I sat with the feeling for a little bit but all my gut said was, “Yes. You really are hungry. Feed me, now!” I ate my peanuts slowly, literally nut by nut and thought about it some more.

I wondered if the more intense activity in the morning was boosting my hunger intensity. I always thought that exercise decreased hunger. I went online to look at the subject and found conflicting, or at least, confusing ideas and studies. My boss is a runner and used to compete in triathlons. She said that after an intense workout she’d get ravenous.

I’m sort of latching onto one thing I read today. Checking in with myself before I ate was, apparently, a good idea. Our mind can play tricks on us from making us think we’re hungry when we aren’t to telling us that we deserve the reward of more food because we worked out and burned off calories.

When all was said, done, and consumed, at least I did not eat more than I’d planned. I just ate it earlier than the time to which I’m normally accustomed. So, I still had a good recovery day. I decided that even if I might not understand what’s going on with my body and hunger triggers around the early morning exercising, it’s good for me to stay aware. That way, regardless of what triggers the hunger, I won’t compulsively eat in a way that doesn’t follow my plan.

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Setting Goals, Earning Rewards

I set short term goals before the weekend ended. Along with pledging to wake up each day and choose to live the day in recovery and adhere to my food plan, I also set workout goals. I changed my wake up time on my clock radio to 6:00 a.m. from 6:45, determined to get up and do at least 45 minutes of exercise each morning before work. I also promised myself that I would rack up a minimum of 10,000 steps each day on my Fitbit. In addition to this, I’m mindful of the need to stay hydrated. I’m aiming for 100 ounces of fluids (water or green tea) per day.

Wednesday is winding down. All three days I’ve met the goal of adhering to my food plan and staying in recovery. I’ve taken long bike rides the last three mornings, pedaling 8 miles, 10 miles and 8 1/2 miles respectively.

Cycling confused my FitBit a little, I think. I put the gadget on my shorts leg so that it counts my pedaling as steps, otherwise I don’t get credit for the exercise. However, even though it adds up the steps, although I doubt it’s 100% accurate, it doesn’t track the miles anywhere close to correctly. If it had a brain it would be puzzled as to how I logged a couple of thousand steps in less than a mile.

Tonight I forgot to move the gadget to my pant leg for Tai Chi class, so I didn’t get an accurate accounting of my steps. This meant that when I got home after class, my daily total was less than 9500 steps! This would never do! I’d set a goal, I tell you. 🙂

I could have taken the dogs for another walk. My neighborhood is safe enough to do so, even after dark. However, several of my neighbors go to bed really early. There are also a lot of other dogs in homes up and down the street. It’s nearly impossible for us to walk around without setting off a chain of barking dogs. In the interest of preserving the peaceful evening, I decided to get those last 500 or so steps at home.

There was a movie on that I wanted to watch, so instead of turning on the in-home walking program DVD, I got creative. At every commercial break, I stood up and walked around or practiced some Tai Chi moves. I even jogged around a little. I also laughed at myself in the process — but I made my 10,000 step goal! Booyah!

I have a large remaining weight loss goal. 45 pounds to go. I am not, however, saying 45 pounds by a certain date. If the last few months of slowwwww creep down the scale is any indication, my body is not making this last push easy. I don’t want to frustrate myself any longer, or risk the emotional disappointment if I say I want to lose XX number of pounds by a particular date and then don’t accomplish it. That kind of numbers game can really mess with my mind and serenity. The most important thing is not how fast I lose it, but that I lose it eventually.

I’m sticking with the daily goals — abstinent with food, 10,000 steps a day (factoring in the equivalent if it’s a bike riding day). This week, I want to get a good push going so I’m sticking with the 45 minutes of cardio for seven days in a row. I think my metabolism needs revving. The combination of goals should help. At least that’s what I hope.

Once could say that the physical benefits are reward enough and they are, but that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t treat myself with something extra. I like fresh cut flowers. I believe that I will reward myself with a gorgeous bouquet. As soon as my massage therapist returns from her trip, I’m scheduling another massage too. I’m working hard and deserve to treat myself well as a reward.

Are you goal-oriented? Got any that you’re working on that you’d like to share? How do you reward yourself?

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Endless Possibilities

I emailed the man who wrote the essay that I cited in yesterday’s blog. He wrote me back and told me about a new book he has out. He also commented that it seems a number of bariatric surgery patients develop alcoholism and he doesn’t know why.

I wrote back and clarified that I’m not an alcoholic but that the 12 Step teachings help me a great deal with my addiction to compulsive eating behavior, binge eating, etc. I also offered up from my personal experience that it doesn’t surprise me that someone would transfer their food issues and pick up a different drug of choice, i.e. alcohol or narcotics. I’m grateful every day that I choose to delve into my issues and emotions, go deep into the past, including my triggers and everything else. It’s important that I do all this work for my recovery, even when the work is painful. The only way out is through. If I don’t do the processing, I could easily find some way other than binge eating to numb the feelings.

When I was active in OA, we frequently were joined by people from a local outpatient drug/alcohol rehab program. They’d discovered that when they stopped using drugs and alcohols, they began to eat more sugar and fat-laden carbs etc. These addiction transfers are all too common.

I also shared with the man that we who have had bariatric surgery don’t tolerate alcohol very well. I used to have a good head for drinking. Now, it goes right into my bloodstream and I’m muddled from less than a single glass of wine, so I’m careful about when/if/how much I might imbibe.

Anyway, I hope the info is helpful. I know that I connected with the message of the man’s essay in a big way. I woke up early this morning – 6:00 a.m. — to a day where the wind finally laid down. By 6:15, I was on my bike, pedaling toward the beach. It was a beautiful morning. I could see the sun breaking on the horizon meanwhile, over my shoulder, the almost-full moon still glowed bright. Amazing.

A little earlier tonight, I called a dear friend of mine who had weight loss surgery about a year ago. She had both her knees replaced in June. Like me, her life, health and ability have dramatically improved. We talked for quite some time about a lot of things, but one thing kept resonating. We talked about the possibilities we have in our lives today. Honestly, we both know how, before we had the surgery, it was so hard to envision that our lives could change so much — and so much for the better.

When I was at my lowest point, I could scarcely wrap my brain around the possibilities. I couldn’t bring myself to really believe that it could happen, let alone that it would. It was honestly hard to hope. Now, activities and adventures that super obesity had rendered near-impossible are not only possible, I actually do them! I used to spend a lot of time stressing and worrying about so many things. Some I automatically discounted, so sure was I that my weight or diminished physical strength stood in my way. Others I feared even trying.

I live, work and play in an entirely different world now. Nothing is impossible. It’s no longer a matter of whether I can, I know I can. Living life unlimited is amazing.

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Food Plan vs Diet

You might have noticed that I rarely call what I’m doing dieting. That’s deliberate. I hate thinking of being on a diet so I try to keep my brain trained on following a healthy food plan which, right now, is also intended to be a losing plan. But not a diet. 🙂

Why, you might ask, am I so resistant to a simple word? I admit that there are a lot of negative memories and experiences infused in that simple four letter word. When I think of a diet, I automatically think of every single extreme, desperate, or even crazy thing that I tried over the years. Many of these were medically supervised, thank God, or I could be dead.

I can’t remember if my first structured commercial diet was Weight Watchers, or if it was the fat camp that I went to when I was 11. Here’s all that I’ll say about fat camp — it knocked off the pounds and we were definitely physically active, so it wasn’t a bad experience. Unfortunately, I didn’t learn enough to transition the benefits to my every day life for very long.

What I remember most about Weight Watchers was Mom driving me to the weekly classes, hating the weigh-ins, and Mom also buying some of the foods. (This was long before WW had their full lines in grocery stores.) I also remember being forced to eat tuna, which I hate. I don’t like any seafood. The only way I could choke it down was if I drowned the taste in mustard. Still, Weight Watchers is not a horrible, extreme diet to follow. Even back then it was well thought out.

So, those were the least extreme diets in my life. Now let’s get to the other end of the spectrum. In college, some doctor released the first liquid protein diet. My father checked it out and I believe it was a sign of how desperate my folks were for me to get healthy that he ever greenlighted me for it. Mom took me to the first appointment. Basically, all I took into my system for months was this viscous red, godawfultasting protein liquid. Not very much of it at that. It’s a wonder I never passed out, but I lost weight. My body fed itself on its stored fat. I took the train into NYC from school every week for a check up and to get my new supply of liquid. I was deep in ketosis, had to constantly guard against bad breath, and emotionally miserable. I can’t remember how long I stayed on this diet — maybe six months? — but I never did reach goal weight. Of course, as soon as I stopped and began eating, I put the weight right back on.

Next on the extreme scale, was one that earns its ranking for weirdness and unproven methodology. A local doctor claimed that shots of human placenta would accelerate weight loss. I don’t remember now if that was before or after my Dad’s death. I know I was an adult and Mom went with me the first time for moral support. I can’t even remember what the eating guidelines were for this program. The doctor was definitely on the creepy side. I didn’t last long with this effort.

The most successful diet I went on, prior to the weight loss surgery effort and my current success, was another one that focused primarily on protein. Nine ounces of protein a day and a cup of salad a day. No starches, no fruit at all. I ate so much chicken that year, I’m surprised that I didn’t cluck upon waking. I lost 103 pounds. Because this was another extreme plan, I went to the clinic three times a week for monitoring and also attended the weekly discussion class.

Sprinkled among the years were more attempts with Weight Watchers and forays into other popular plans like Optifast and other similar ones. I was a yo-yo dieter for sure. In 1996-1997, I consulted a nutritionist and had decent success, helped by one of the popular “diet” drugs. That drug was later pulled from the market because of it possibly causing heart problems.

After that, except for a couple more Weight Watchers online attempts, I really didn’t have any big loss successes until I decided to do the vertical sleeve gastrectomy. One could say that my current food plan is pretty extreme, but it doesn’t seem crazy. I eat enough and it’s well balanced. There just isn’t much to it. Honestly, I think I eat healthier now than I have ever, and not just in terms of quantity. I really do make an effort to eat lower fat and less sugar. I don’t eat a lot of junk starches. Fast food restaurants, which were once staples in my weekly eating, are now places I drive by instead of drive-through.

It’s almost two years since I had the surgery. Two years where I have either steadily lost weight or, when I’ve plateaued, at least maintained the weight loss. This is a record for me in terms of time. It’s been a terrific confidence boost too. I grow less scared that I’ll ultimately screw up again with every day that I soldier on. I still want to lose the remaining pounds. When I do, I don’t yet know what the maintenance food plan will look like. However, I feel really strong and positive that I can incorporate this one for life.

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Making the Most of the New Sleep Pattern

Have I mentioned before that I’ve never been a morning person? I keep holding onto that thought, all evidence to the contrary. In the last year in particular, my internal clock keeps resetting its alarm and waking me up earlier. I’m not sure if waking up earlier is connected in some way to my weight loss. It could just be a result of me being in my mid-50s. The older we get, the less sleep we need.

I sleep well and am no longer concerned with the sleep hypopnea with which I was diagnosed prior to weight loss surgery. I fall asleep easily at night and, for the most part, sleep soundly unless I really have stressful things going on. The dogs usually wake me up once at some point in the night, but I fall right back to sleep. For the most part however, when I would happily sleep in on a weekend until 9:00 a.m., that hasn’t happened in a long time, unless I’ve gotten up earlier, been up a little while, and then gone back to bed. (That’s rare.) The other exception is after I’ve traveled. I tend to do well if I have a little longer lie in the following day.

For probably the last year, most mornings, I wake up before my 6:45 a.m. alarm. For a long time, I’ve really resisted this reality. To be honest, I’ve resented the early wake up. I don’t know why. Lately, I’ve begun to adopt the attitude that it is what it is. Why fight the inevitable? Most days this past week, I woke up between 5:45 and 6:15 a.m. Some of this might have been the time change, but whatever the case, there was no way I was falling back to sleep these mornings so I tried to be productive. Three days I bounced out of bed and did a program from my in-home walking DVD. This morning I said the hell with the 15-18 mph wind from the north east and went for a bike ride. Me. On the bike before 6:30 a.m. Somewhere in Heaven, my mother, who was always an early riser, is giggling. I have to say that I felt pretty damned good about getting in an eight mile ride. When I returned, I leashed up the dogs and got them out for a good walk.

I almost hate to admit it, but there’s something to be said for being a morning person. For the next few months, it gets dark pretty early, so I have less opportunity to walk or ride after work. Walking up and not squandering the time has its advantages if it helps me put in solid exercise time before I go to work.

Honestly, I don’t think this sleep pattern will change anytime soon. I might as well make the most of it.

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Fat Days

Ever hear someone talk about feeling fat on a particular day? I used to hear this lament from friends, usually when they were approaching their period and experiencing water weight gain and bloating. It wasn’t an occurrence that I experienced because, to be honest, I felt fat every single day. Because I was.

Since I’ve lost 170 pounds, even though I still have around 50 to go, I don’t often think of myself the same way that I did. I mean, I know I’m still overweight, but I honestly don’t go around thinking, “Ugh, I’m still so fat.”

Today, I get it. I’m having a fat day. I’m pretty sure this is an emotional residual from the physical eating of yesterday. Is it possible to have a truffle hangover? Anyway, this morning it felt like shirts just didn’t fit right. If the shirt fit, then I decided that all of my clothes were showing the still existing rolls and bulges of my body — particularly in the belly and hip areas. I tried on three shirts that I only bought a few weeks ago. I know damn well they fit because I tried them all on in the store. Today, in my fat mode, I was overly critical of how everything looked and felt on my body.

Geezus, having one these days sucks. No. Likey. I shared this with a friend who assured me that I did not look fat and, in fact, looked nice. She then told me that she was also having a fat day for different reasons. In my case it was the truffle hangover. For her, it’s because she hasn’t been able to workout for several days since she fell and hurt her knee. I think it’s interesting to see how we can experience something that honestly cannot immediately result in increases to our size or imperfections in our appearance (and who needs perfection anyway?), but we automatically go to that place of self-criticism. I was able to assure her in return and we both acknowledged that nothing can change our self-viewpoints unless we change them and let them go.

So, I’m trying to process it out and believe that tomorrow, when I get dressed, I’ll be able to see, recognize and celebrate the positive changes that have produced a much more attractive and, certainly healthier, physique.

Overall my food was better today. I’ve resisted the cupcakes. I also have been paying attention to my fitness. Yesterday, I almost made it to 10,000 steps. Technically, I think I actually did, but the FitBit doesn’t accurately track the amount of movement that I do with my in-home walking program DVD. Yesterday, I did the DVD’s One Mile Walk, but FitBit only counted some of the steps. I have to test it out and see if it only does front and back motion. If so, then I did not get credit for the side steps or kicks. This morning I woke up early and did the brisk paced 30-minute two mile routine. FitBit only counted it as .83 miles. It should have been two miles and at least 1600 steps.

Even though FitBit only has me at 8027 steps today, I’m positive I’m “owed” another 1500 steps at least. I guess I should stop focusing on the number so much, but I’m motivated to hit as close to 10,000 steps as I can every day. That’s why I not only did the two mile walk today, but I also walked the dogs in the morning and took them for an additional 1.5 mile walk this evening. I had a lot of desk work today, but I will do my best to add in some midday walks, even if they’re shorter. I will hit these goals.

For anyone who might have noticed that I haven’t spoken much about my bike riding, it’s been blowing the last several days. This morning the winds hit 30-35 mph! Even 15-20 mph winds make riding a big challenge down here, so I’m trying to compensate with more walking. I haven’t been to Zumba in a few weeks. Even though my legs are strong and powerful, I’m currently experiencing some significant pain/achiness in my left shoulder and some soreness in my right shoulder. Zumba might be all dance, but we do a lot of arm work too and I just didn’t feel up to it. Thank goodness for my feet.

So, how was your day? Do you experience Fat Days sometimes?

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A “Hey Baby” Look

Friday night was the annual fundraising performance at our local community theater. I made plans to meet a friend for appetizers and a drink beforehand. I ran home from work to shower, do my hair and dress up for the evening. Dressing up is a relative phrase in the Keys. On that evening it meant a cute, casual dress, kitten heels instead of flip flops, more makeup than I usually wear, etc.

I parked the car and walked toward the restaurant. I passed by a couple of stores that were still open A couple of men stood at the curb. As I approached, one said hello and gave me a definite, “Hey, baby, how you doing?” look and said hello.

It’s been years since I got a look like that from a man, but a woman doesn’t forget. I have to tell you, it put a little extra pep in my step. I smiled, said hello back, and kept walking, pretty sure that he was checking me out even though I could no longer see him.

I don’t know if I’m ready to start following up on expressions of interest. I still have some issues about my body, particularly how it looks now with sagging skin. At the same time, I really can appreciate that I’m gaining a nice figure, with, dare I say it, sexy curves. That there are men who might, from time to time, give me that appreciative, interested look and throw out a little flirtation feels great. Booyah!

In other stuff, I haven’t quite hit 10,000 steps yet on any given day, but I know that I did the equivalent and more so yesterday. At the end of the day, my FitBit step count was at 8876 but I also did an 8 mile bike ride! Definitely a good fitness day. Today the wind is blowing more than 20 mph with gusts to 23. This pretty much kills any long bike rides. I can muscle through with winds up to 15, but it’s hard to do that for more than a couple of miles. I’m trying to compensate and took the dogs for a longer walk this morning. I have several things to do around the house today, and plan to work in some additional fitness somehow — even if it’s the two mile in-home walking DVD along with practicing Tai Chi. I’ll plan on another long walk with the dogs this evening. (They don’t do as well in the bright sunshine on their furry bodies.)

This week I really need to prep my mind to stay on track. In a fit of terminal helpfulness, I volunteered to bake six dozen cupcakes this week for a fundraising event next weekend. I honestly don’t know why I put myself in this position. Although I have baked my brownies for different things, I usually can get through that without too much damage to myself. Baking over a couple of nights is going to challenge my willpower. I’ll make sure to not do it until right after I’ve eaten dinner so that my stomach capacity is full. At least I’m not making the frosting. That would definitely trip me up. It’s much more tempting than raw cupcake batter. I won’t eat the baked cupcakes themselves since they’re intended for a specific purpose. Once more into the breach!

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