Weighty Matters

Cooking Channel is running back to back to back episodes of Not My Mama’s Meals with Bobby Dean.  Months ago I professed my love of that man.  Okay, I’m sure a shrink would have a field day with me developing a crush on a man who can prepare and feed me healthier meals, but I don’t care.  It’s not like I’m going to camp outside his apartment and stalk him when he goes to the market.

On the other hand, Bobby, if you ever google your name and run across this blog how about an episode on small plate dishes?  I’ll come and help you cook.  Ok, my name isn’t a draw.  Maybe Al Roker will help?

Anyway, the man was practically birthed on butter, heavy cream and Southern food cooked by his mother, Paula, who never met a cow product that she didn’t love.  I’ve watched her show in the past and practically salivated over some of her recipes.  However, although they might be good comfort food for the emotions, you and I both know that they aren’t the healthiest for the body and heart.

God love the Dean family.  They realize it too and have amended their cooking and eating habits.   They’ve all lost a great deal of weight and should be applauded for sharing their stories.  I’m sure that butter has not been banned from any of their households, nor should it be.  Sometimes you just have to have a pat.

Ok, back on topic.  In each episode of NMMM, Bobby shows us his mom’s original versions and tells us the astronomical number of calories and fat grams in each serving.  Then he demonstrates what he does to lighten the dishes and slash the numbers.

All of the numbers talk tonight sent me over to my phone to check the myfitnesspal app.  I log my food intake and exercise pretty much every day.  If you’ve never used mfp, there’s a summary feature that shows you the nutrition goals based on the total calories you’re shooting for each day.  It lists fat, total carbs which are then broken down between fiber and sugars, protein, cholesterol, sodium, various minerals and vitamins, etc.

In reading the numbers, I realized that I’ve been following the original food plan for so long that I don’t really know the current recommendations for a healthy, balanced diet.  I know that I’m still eating far fewer calories than I will on a maintenance plan, but I figured there was no harm in looking at numbers now.  I wanted to see how the figures stack up in mfp too.  I did some research and it looks like the official dietary guidelines recommend that protein make up about 10-35% of your daily food; carbohydrates should be 45 to 65%; fats 20 to 35%.  (Yes, if you add the top numbers in each of those ranges, the total comes to greater than 100%.   Hmm.)

Based on 1000 calories, mfp set my daily goals at 38g of protein, 138g of carbs, 33g of fat.  Math has never been my strong suit, but I swiftly figured out that if I was going to figure out the percentages, I needed to know how many calories are in each respective gram.

Gotta love the internet for swift research.  There’s an easy 4-9-4 formula.  One gram of protein = 4 calories.  One gram of carb = 4 calories. One gram of fat = 9 calories.

So, multiply by X, carry the X and, voila!  According this the guidelines, mfp is pretty much on target, except that they set my goal on the low end of the protein range.  At 38g, that’s only 152 calories or roughly 15% of total calories.

Has the arithmetic bored your brain yet?  Yes, mine too.

Right now, I’m supposed to be higher on protein and lower on carbs, so it’s actually good that I went through this configuring exercise.  I still need to shoot for more than 60 grams of protein, but that’s doesn’t mean I can do that and keep the higher carb count too.  On a daily basis, I’ll adjust to up protein and dial back carbs.

I honestly don’t like to get too caught up in the numbers.  It makes my head hurt.  I just like to know the general target for the main components.  If I can consistently hit those, and do the general reminders of shooting for lean proteins, healthy-not-empty carbs, go for healthy fats, I’ll be good shape.  Literally and figuratively.

If Bobby Dean can do it, so can I. 🙂

I serve on the board of a local organization and today was our quarterly meeting. We usually get together over lunch and today’s meeting was held at a restaurant with a rep for delicious food. I think I’ve eaten there once before but it was several years ago and I don’t remember what I ate.

In perusing the menu the first thing I noticed was that they had two entire sections touted as “Small Plates”. One was Small Plates-Turf with seafood based dishes; the other Small Plates-Earth. There were several yummy sounding offerings and I finally settled on an eggplant stack with goat cheese over a marinara sauce.

When my meal came, I realized that my concept of “small plate” is a lot smaller than the restaurants. I guess I was thinking about the tiny servings I experienced at the tapas restaurant so I didn’t expect five slices of eggplant. Granted, each slice was a little smaller in diameter than the one before so that they could all prettily stack in a tower, but that sure seemed like more than a small plate serving. BTW, I could only eat half of the dish before I was full.

There have been a lot of times when I’ve gone out to eat with friends and been amazed at the huge portions we were served. I know that my perspective of portions has completely changed since my surgery, but you know what? The portions in most restaurants are huge. Most dinner entrees could easily feed two people — or feed me four times. That isn’t an exageration. I’ve gone to dinner, boxed what I didn’t eat, and then enjoyed the rest over three additional meals.

It’s hard for me to accept that there was a time when I could eat the entire entree myself at that one meal. That was then and this is now. I finally understand all the articles and news stories that quote experts who say that the reason that obesity is rampant in our country is because we are all accustomed to large serving sizes.

This made me remember back to the year that my family and I lived in France. We were there in 1967-68 when I was nine years old. Even 45 years ago, Americans were eating too much. How many times have you gone to a supermarket deli counter and ordered a half a pound or more of sliced meat or cheese to feed a family? In the French countryside, women would go to the market and order four slices of ham, four slices of cheese and a bagette to serve lunch to their family of four!

My mother, bless her, wasn’t the most proficient at speaking French. (She studied German in high school and switching to a romance language when she was in her 40s created issues.) She’d mess up a lot. Most of the time, this wasn’t a big problem, but the local market staff and butcher were convinced she’d ordered wrong no matter what she said. One time she and Dad had planned an elaborate dinner party for his colleagues. She was going to make a crown rib roast and placed the meat order with the butcher. When she unwrapped the package at home, she saw that he hadn’t given her nearly enough “ribs” for the guest list. He figured she’d ordered too much by accident and gave her what he thought she probably really needed.

Thank goodness Daddy got home in time to run down to the butcher and get more meat. He then employed his surgeon skills to make the two portions into one roast for Mom’s gorgeous presentation.

The smaller portions didn’t mean that the French weren’t eating well. French cuisine is divine! If anything, the way that they eat is good evidence that you can eat well without eating a lot.

Which is sort of where I am with the whole food thing. I want to eat delicious food but only in the amount that I need. I’ve come to accept that I will continue to run into disproportionate portions, regardless of whether the restaurant advertises small plates.

I just need to remember that no matter what amount I’m actually served, I only need to eat what I actually need. It’s no big deal not to finish what’s on my plate. That’s why there are to-go boxes!

A friend that I don’t get to see very often came into town today.  I met her and two other women back in 2000 when I began volunteering at the dolphin center.  They and their husbands were “snowbirds” who came to the Florida Keys every winter.  The three women helped train me in my volunteer duties and we all became friends.  Over the years, their retirement plans changed and they ended up going to other places each winter, but they find a way to visit now and then.

The friend who came today, L, told me that she’ll visit again in February and one of the other ladies, B, is going to come for a few days with her.  B is experiencing a tough time lately.  Her husband has had a few strokes and is currently in a rehab center trying to build up his strength so that they can continue to live independently at an assisted living community.  It’s been a rough road for her as she takes care of him, understandably so, but fortunately they live near family.  The family is going to see that she gets some respite, hence the trip to see L in Florida.

When I learned that they’d also visit the Keys, I actually clapped my hands, rapidly, like a delighted little kid.  Then L and I agreed, emphatically, that if the two of them are going to be here, the third friend, A, should be too.  A and her husband are wintering in Arizona.  I know them both and fired off an email to her husband saying that A should join L and B.  Within an hour, we had an answering email that she’s going to come too!

During the afternoon, while watching L and her step-daughter play with some dolphins, I couldn’t stop grinning as I watched them have so much fun.  It just felt right that she was back here visiting.  I turned to a co-worker and said, “Seeing her here, knowing that the others will be here too the next time just makes my heart smile.”

I know that my heart doesn’t actually smile, but that’s how it felt.  When I’m happy, it’s like everything inside me smiles as much as my mouth.

People who don’t see me very often have commented that I seem happier these days.  Sometimes this makes me self-conscious.  I can’t help but think back to the days before my weight loss and wonder if I was plodding around with some aura of sadness that I didn’t realize.  I’ve since come to the conclusion that it isn’t so much that I was dragged down or mired in depression.  It’s just that right now, I’m on such a roll of positive energy and wonderful transformation.  It’s natural that this energy is going to manifest as extreme happiness.   I feel so great physically, mentally and emotionally, how can it not show?

When your heart smiles, it lights you up from the inside out.

I think it’s important to keep looking for and experiencing things that make my heart smile.  It’s an excellent way to live.

Perhaps I’ll make a list.  Losing weight, working out, long walks on the bridge, warm cuddles with my dogs, spending time with friends I don’t see very often.  Reading stories from friends who are making improvements in their lives.  Waking up to a beautiful sunrise.  Those are just a handful.  It isn’t important that I list them all.  It only matters that I know these things exist; That I appreciate them and feel the effect that they have on my spirit.  They add quality to my life in immeasurable ways and I’m better, and happier, as a result.

So tell me, please, what makes your heart smile?

I took Pyxi in for a blood draw today so they could test her thyroid function.   We found out that her thyroid is underperforming and, all things considered, if there had to be a medical reason, this is the best outcome.  The doctor prescribed a supplement and, hopefully, it shouldn’t take long for us to see improvement.   She needs to lose at least five pounds.  We’ll continue with the exercise and not overfeeding her treats.  By the time we’re done, she and her brother and I are all going to be in great shape.

I’m trying not to beat myself up about not checking her blood sooner.  It would be unproductive.  I’ve been beating myself up for slacking off on their exercise for so long that she gained weight in the first place.  Now that I’ve corrected that, I don’t want to keep smacking myself around for anything else.  We’re on the right track after all.

Practically every day my friend and I chat about our upcoming trip to Hawaii.  So far, the things we know we really want to do all involve physical activity.  How cool is that?  We haven’t discovered whether our cruise ship offers Zumba, but I’m going to look when I board.  I’m also going prepared to snorkel a couple of times and we’re determined to zipline.  I love that when our travel agent suggests that we should spend some time just walking down the street along the park and beach in Waikiki I don’t reflexively flinch at the idea of walking.

I’m packing two bathing suits so that I always have one rinsed, dry and ready to go for the pool, the beach or whatever water adventure I want.

I dropped off the three large bag of purged clothes to the Salvation Army’s thrift shop.  When the woman came to the door  I told her I hoped that there were some plus sized women in town who could use some nice clothes.  She assured me that there are, so I’m confident that the garments will find good homes.

It’s weird how my perceptions continue to shift the further along I get with this journey.  Lately I’ve become hyper aware of the huge portions that are considered normal in American restaurants.  On the one hand, it’s great when I go out to eat because I’ll not only enjoy the tasty meal that night, but also the two or three times I heat up the remainder for leftovers.  On the other hand, I look at commercials for fast food restaurants, and my stomach gets queasy over foods I would formerly have chowed down on with gluttonous delight.  I don’t want to mention any by name but right now one is advertising a new cheeseburger on a pretzel bun.

I’m trying to cultivate that queasy response about fast food.  Honestly, fast food restaurants were always a big trigger for me.  Whenever I successfully dieted, I stayed away from them.  The day that I said, “I’m in a hurry.  Just this once,” usually sounded the death knell for that particular diet effort.  Decades ago, I’d go through a drive-thru and order two sodas so that the counterpeople would think I was ordering for more than one person.  Now, gratefully, I have no appetite for the value meals that I used to crave.  Sunday I was on a road trip with friends.  I’d packed snacks but we’d planned to have lunch together and our schedule ran late.  A fast food restaurant was our best choice.  It would have been easy to go with a small burger and fries.  Instead, I’m happy to say that I limited myself to a small chili with a side of apple slices.  Much better choices!

Did you know that there are trapeze schools?  A friend of mine takes trapeze classes in Boston.  I’ve seen pictures.  She looks great.  It’s a very safe activity, with the harnesses and safety lines.  It’s also good for working your core and for developing your arms and upper body strength.  Rather, if you want to progress through the trapeze class curriculum (Yes, the classes have curriculums.  Curriculi?  Whatever.)  you need to develop your arms and upper body strength.  My friend is working on her pull ups to boost her progress.

I saw her pictures and immediately thought, “What a cool thing to do.”  Now I’m on to, “What a cool thing to try!”  Yes, friends, I have now added trapeze to my promise list.  My friend told me that the company that runs her school, as well as other locations in several major cities, is planning to open a place in the next couple of years down here in the Keys.  Everyone sing with me now, “She flies through the air with the greatest of ease, the daring young woman on the flying trapeze.”

Is there anything you have on your promise list that you want to try someday?  Check in with us.

Yesterday I watched wounded combat veterans play and swim with dolphins.  They came to the Keys for the Wounded Warrior Project Soldier Ride, an adaptive cycling event that goes from Key Biscayne in Miami to Key West.  These men and women, while in service to our nation, incurred horrific injuries.  Some are obvious as they arrive in wheel chairs or with prosthetics taking the place of amputated limbs.  Traumatic brain injuries aren’t so visible.  Neither is Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Whatever the injury, their challenges are far greater than most of us will ever experience.   It is amazing to watch these heroes forget about their injuries for a while, get  into the moment, and simply smile and laugh as they interact with the dolphins.

By comparison, my challenges seem small indeed.  In fact, there is no comparison.   Yes, I have an eating disorder but, in reality, the years I spent in relapse with the full blown eating associated with the disease, were a choice.

I’ve abused my body by making it carry so much excess weight.   Yet, right now the only daily result of that abuse is a knee that aches and is weaker than the other.   I’m so incredibly lucky.

I need to remember these men and women every day for so many reasons.  I want to think of them, and the warriors who are still in active duty deployed around the world.  I want to think of them and remember that they need my support with energy, with sharing what I’ve seen, with money when I can donate.  I pray that those who are hurt will recover and those who are serving will come home alive and unharmed.

I will take inspiration from those who face their physical challenges and live their lives in spite of having lost an arm, a leg, both legs, or even worse.  I will be grateful for every step I can take, each mile I walk or every hour that I dance in Zumba.

Thank you to all who serve.

For more information about the Wounded Warrior Project, please visit www.woundedwarriorproject.org.

I have two English Cocker Spaniels.  Nat and Pyxi are brother and sister.  They’ll be six in April and we’ve been a family since they were seven months old.  He’s bigger than she is, which is normal for males.  She was always this more delicate, girly-looking dog.

Many people take better care of their furry companions than they do themselves and I’m no exception.  Over the years, with other pets, I faithfully took them to the vet for their shots, for checkups, for visits if they appeared the least bit off.  I’ll sit home self-treating myself for the flu without calling a doctor, but when/if one of my dogs is sick, I hit speed dial on the phone to reach the vet office.

I work with Nat and Pyxi, do fun training for enrichment, play and cuddle with them every day.  I’m ashamed to admit, however, that in the couple of years before my surgery when my own physical condition was at its worse, I slacked off on their exercise.  I’m doing my best to make up for that and get them into better shape.

The effort has worked for Nat.  He’s doing great.  Unfortunately, Pyxi is porky.  I’ve seen it for months and have been extra careful at monitoring her food.  I measure.  I don’t over do it with treats.  We play and I’m taking both of them out for walks more often.  However, she still needs to lose around eight pounds.  On a dog that should weigh 21 or 22 pounds, eight additional pounds are definitely too many.

I brought it up to the vet earlier in the week when a group of us were out to dinner.  We’re friends and I also work with his wife.  He said that the next time I had the kids in, he would take a good look, listen to her heart, and evaluate.  He thought that we might want to check Pyxi’s thyroid function just to be on the safe side.

Last night, the dear friend who bred my furkids and gave them to me after my beloved Brittany died was in town.  I talked with her about my concerns with Pyxi.  She came over and assessed my little girl with a visual check and a hands’ on exam.  She agreed that Pyxi is overweight, but made a particular observation that most of the pounds are carried in the middle instead of being distributed over her body.  In her expert opinion, she concurred that we should do blood work and check the thyroid function.

I told her what I feed Pyxi every day and it didn’t seem like too much food to her.

Then she said something that alarmed me, even though she was quick to say that she didn’t mean it to scare me, she just wanted to be even more on the safe side.  She suggested that I talk to the vet about the possibility of pre-Cushing’s Syndrome if the thyroid test didn’t show a problem.

As soon as she left, I naturally did an internet search because I had no idea or knowledge of Cushing’s.  It’s pretty confusing but the gist is that too much cortisol is produced and that causes problems.

Raise your hand if you’ve ever seen an ad for a diet product that talks about cortisol and belly fat.  I can’t actually see them, but I bet a lot of hands just went up.

Pyxi has some of the symptoms but I’m worried so I might have been picking out the things that seem like a fit for her and looking at the worst case scenario.  These same symptoms could also be from thyroid imbalance or the plain fact that she wasn’t getting enough exercise and it will take some time to work the extra weight off of her.

I woke up this morning determined to not borrow trouble but to approach this calmly.  I called the vet’s office first thing this morning and left a message, asking the vet to call me when he had a minute.  When he did a few hours later, we talked it all over and devised a plan.  I’m taking Pyxi in Monday morning for a blood draw so we can test her thyroid.  If the blood work reveals an issue, then we can treat her condition.

If the blood test is negative, we’ll do the first test for Cushing’s.  This means that I will soon face a new experience — collecting a urine sample from my dog.  I’m sure that Pyxi will be as thrilled as I am about this process, which is to say less than enthusiastic. 🙂  Doesn’t matter.  Whatever my little girl needs, I will do.

When all is said and done, I don’t want her to have either condition.  I’d rather do the tests, have them all come back negative and have the vet tell me that we need to cut her calories more and up her exercise.  I’d rather find out that I have been in denial thinking that I was doing better with her food and activity level and need to give myself a wake-up call.

Maybe we can make it all better with a lower calorie food and more activity.

Doesn’t that sound like every sensible “diet” plan we’ve ever heard?  Consume fewer calories, burn more with exercise.

When I started this blog, I never dreamed that I might one day have to discuss weighty matters that concern my dog.   I feel like a Mom with an obese child who only wants to know what she can do and how she can help her poor baby.

I’ll keep you posted.