Weighty Matters

Flicking the Switch

by Mary Stella

Whenever I went on diets in the past, I usually started out like gangbusters. I could go for days, weeks, and sometimes, months with great results. Then one day something would happen and, as if someone had turned the ignition switch in me from on to off, my motivation would evaporate and I’d begin to struggle. Once the struggle started, it would steadily worsen and I just couldn’t get back on track.

This pattern always puzzled me. You’d think that each successful day would serve as a building block for the next which would lead to a solid foundation on which I could continue to build. Unfortunately, I acted more like a car starting out a journey with a full tank, but eventually the fuel for my effort ran out and left me stuck on the side of the road.

I need to keep the switch turned on now. This is not a trip with a beginning and an end. I need the motivation tank to have enough fuel to motor me through each day. To borrow from Frost, I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep.

Look at the Olympic athletes. How many lengths of the pool do you think Michael Phelps or Missy Franklin swim every day to keep in top form as they swim toward their goals, and their gold? Maybe they wake up every morning and can’t wait to jump into the water and work. Maybe, however, there are days when they wake up and think, “Oh God, just let me have one day when I don’t wear a bathing suit and immerse myself in chlorinated water. ” I’m sure there are, but on those days I bet they get out of bed and go to the pool anyway.

Honestly, the solutions to a lot of the problems or previous behavior are relatively simple. It doesn’t matter whether I want to stay on my food plan or if I feel like following it on any given day. It only matters what I do and how I act. After all, it isn’t possible for anyone else to flick my switch and kill my motivation. I’m the one responsible for my behavior.

So, the takeaway message for me tonight is that even if I don’t want to stick to my plan, I’ll do it anyway.

General Musings

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Once a Food Addict

by Mary Stella

. . . always a food addict.

That reminder’s been bouncing around in my head over the weekend. It’s really important that I remember. Forgetting or pretending otherwise leads to relapse.

Just because I’ve been doing so well is no reason to get cocky and think I have this disease of compulsive overeating under control. I had a lot of time to think about it while driving up and back to the mainland this weekend. (Two hours plus each way.) I evaluated my eating choices over the last few weeks with the intent of performing a brutally honest inventory on myself.

Here’s what I decided. I’ve been slacking sometimes on the food plan. Not a lot, mind you, but enough. I started eyeballing portions instead of measuring. There were a few too many carbs, sometimes. Too frequent an inclination to indulge in sweets if they were present at the office, even if my new definition of indluging means a tiny slice. The snacks I kept at the office, like nuts, were on the plan, but I ate them compulsively instead of measuring or only eating at the time that I planned.

I got a little lazy tracking my food on my handy little food app on my phone, too. Not listing it in digital black and white was a way of skating around my own accountability.

You might ask yourself why these things are bad or risky. I mean, how much damage can I do to myself with 30% stomach capacity. Plenty. I’m told that it’s possible to keep pushing the boundaries and eventually stretch the stomach.

That would suck.

I can prevent that from ever happening. I will prevent it. My inventory examination showed me what steps I need to take to get back on track. It really isn’t difficult and it’s all stuff that I know works for me. Even though it concerns the food that I eat, the focus is on my behavior and how I eat as much as what I eat and how much of it.

Measure out the foods I plan to eat. 60 to 80 grams of protein daily. I can include some fruit and veggies but the protein goal is the most important. Limit carbs like bread, potatoes and rice. Eat only the three meals and three snacks. No compulsively reaching for food that happens to be around. Stay hydrated with at least 60 ounces of water a day. Those are the basic steps to success.

I also need to do better about eating every meal and snack slowly, thoughtfully, and with lots of chewing.

It’s pretty simple, really, particularly when one is willing. I’m willing.

Hell, if I wasn’t willing I wouldn’t have had the surgery in the first place.

This is not me beating myself up, by the way. It’s me supporting myself and my recovery. Continuing to take personal inventory is an important step. I don’t need to only do this now or three weeks or three months. I need to support my own recovery with the steps that I know make me successful all of the time — whether I’m in the losing stage or at goal weight and have transitioned to maintenance. Even if I look in the mirror and a healthy-weight person looks back at me, I will still need to support my recovery.

Because I’ll still be a food addict and compulsive overeater. Once a food addict, always a food addict.

It’s that simple.

General Musings My Progress

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Sizing Things Up

by Mary Stella

I didn’t post yesterday because it was a full day with travel, doctors appointments and then fun with friends. I also absorbed lots of info and have been musing over different things which will almost certainly show up in future blog posts. 🙂

The first appointment yesterday was at the pulmonologist’s office. I promise not to veer off into a rant, but I hope the doctor’s office staff, i.e. the young woman behind the reception desk, learned this simple lesson in customer/patient service. When the office makes a mistake in scheduling a patient’s appointment, do not be snotty to the patient. Instead, do your best to be cooperative and helpful and again, not snotty.

Ok. Moving on. The doctor was somewhat amazed at my progress. We talked things over for a bit and came to the mutual decision not to repeat the sleep study quite yet. As much as I would love to get off of the CPAP machine, I agreed not to rush things. By waiting a few more months I can lose additional weight which increases the chances of my sleep hypopnia resolving. The doctor says there is a 70 to 80% chance that this will happen, but that leaves 20 to 30% chance of it not. Rather than do the test now, get less than optimum results, and then have to repeat it another time anyway, we’re going to wait until the end of November. That way I at least get the repeat in on this calendar year when my deductible is already satisfied.

From that appointment I proceeded to my surgeon’s office. The surgeon and P.A. are used to seeing quick results in patients who have weight loss surgery. While they were not amazed, they were still very pleased and enthusiastic, and they congratulated me on working so hard. I chatted for a while with the P.A. and see where I need to make some adjustments. I’ve been veering over into a few more carbs than I should eat. I know I can be more vigilant on that score. Honestly, they really were excited about the dedicated effort I’m giving toward exercising.

*******Alert of Possible TMI********

I spoke with both the P.A. and the surgeon about the way that my system stalls. We talked about solutions. I didn’t know that it’s possible for one’s body to develop a dependency or a resistance to laxatives. Did you? Anyway, they suggested using Benefiber or a similar product three times a day — mixed in my protein shake or in soup or even water. I can also use Miralax. I need to make sure that I consistently drink at least 60 ounces of water and/or low sugar juice a day too. The hydration is important for a number of reasons — keeping my system regular and flushing my kidneys since I’m still ingesting 6o to 80 grams of protein a day.

All in all it was a good check up, albeit with the cautious reminder to keep doing what I’m doing because, even though I’ve made great progress, I still have a long way to go.

A short time after the second doctor’s appointment, I met up with a group of friends for a delicious dinner at a favorite restaurant. Everything served is made from fresh ingredients and cooked to bring out the flavors while maintaining lower calories and fat. The meal was delicious and the company great fun. A good night all around.

Today I planned to shop. I have reached the point where I can’t avoid buying some new clothes. Seriously. I was down to about four tops that I could wear outside of work. Remember when I shopped my closets and found garments that had been too tight on me for years? Even most of those clothes are now too big. I’m not complaining. It’s a great problem!

I’ve also reached the stage where my bras don’t fit. For a while now I’ve been hooking them on the tightest row and they still gap.

I should point out that shopping is not my favorite activity. I know plenty of people who view it as recreation and who love to spend entire days in malls browsing, going in and out of stores. I’m not one of those people, but I geared up and got going.

Lane Bryant advertises that they’ll professionally measure you for bras, so I went there first. No surprise that I’m down two sizes in my bra band size, but not in the cup. The nice young woman gave me some suggestions on what styles might best suit and I took it from there. Let me tell you, it’s true what many say. The right size and style of bra can not only change your body silhouette, it can change your freaking life! I picked out four and each one fit and made me look terrific. What a difference! As a bonus, today LB had a buy one, get the second for half price. I got four bras for the price of three.

There were good sales going on all over the store. Plus, every year around this time, Florida designates a week where clothes, electronics, and some other things can be purchased without paying sales tax. It’s supposed to help families better afford everything students need to go back to school, but adults can also benefit. Let’s just say that I took advantage of the sales to stock up on smaller-sized panties, cute tops and a purple sundress. I can’t tell you how great it felt to realize that sizes I used to be too big to fit into are now larger than I need! Everything I purchased is smaller than I’ve been able to wear in years.

The staff really went out of their way to be helpful. One asked if I’d received any coupons in the mail. (I might have but didn’t remember.) “Do you have Internet access with your phone?” she asked. “Google Lane Bryant coupons. We have some now that give you $25 off of every $75 you spend. ” Bonus! While I did not go crazy with my shopping, let’s say that I qualified for truly spectacular savings.

After an hour or so in LB, I went on my way to a much bigger mall in search of some new makeup and cross-trainer sneakers for Zumba. A couple of young women who are friends met me there and we wandered for a few hours. Yes, hours. After stops in Bath & Body Works for delicious smelling concotions to add to my bath water, and then Sephora for make up, we made our way to JC Penney. Their mother, who is also a friend, has worked for years for JCP so the girls are very familiar with the store.

I believe I’ve mentioned here before that I have not shopped for clothes for myself in a regular department store in the last few decades. It’s been at least 20 years, possibly 25. No lie. My friends guided me to the Woman’s Department, which was huge. I will admit to feeling a bit intimidated by the different sections with rack after rack of clothing. Friends, maybe I was already tired from the shopping that I’d done before, but I got a little overwhelmed. Before it got to be too much for me to handle, I managed to find two cute tops and try them on. Standing at the cash register, I was truly proud that I’ve lost enough weight to shop in a department store. By this time next year, it will probably no longer be a novelty and I won’t be confined to the Woman’s Department. Woot!

The only non-successful part of the outing was my footwear search. Unfortunately, the stores stocked mostly running shoes. I wanted cross trainers that have a smooth circle on the sole that enables you to smoothly pivot and turn. So, I’m back to searching online. All things considered, this was not a big deal and everything else was just so terrific.

By this time, after around four to five hours, I was exhausted. I wish I’d worn a pedometer because we walked a lot. By the time I said goodbye to my friends and got to my car, I ached in the small of my back and my right, weaker knee. On my way back to the hotel, I made a quick trip into Whole Foods to select something yummy from their prepared food “bars” for dinner. When I returned to my room, I could easily have curled up on the bed for a quick nap. Instead, I pulled on my bathing suit and headed down to the swimming pool.

Yes, as if walking all around a big mall for a few hours wasn’t enough exercise, I wanted some more. I swam 20 lengths of the full size pool which worked out some of the aches. A ten minute soak in the hot tub eased the rest.

As I type this out, I’m freshly showered, pleasantly tired in mind and body, and really, really happy. Sizing everything up, I’m delighted with the way my size is going down, not only in my physique but in the clothes that cover me. I’m pleased with my attitude about exercise and my daily recommitment to eat healthy.

It’s been a great weekend for me and I plan to build on this experience for continued success in the future.

Body Matters NSVs

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Between Want and Hunger

by Mary Stella

In her comment on yesterday’s post, Pink Pelican talked about differentiating between wanting food and actual hunger. Wow, does that ring a bell. It was always hard for me because my head would tell me that I not only wanted food, I needed it. Cravings created by emotions felt as physically real as the pangs in my stomach that occured if I’d gone hours without eating.

Even when I was semi-successfully dieting, it didn’t matter how logically I reasoned with myself. Intellectually, I knew that I didn’t really need chocolate, but the extreme mental desire overrode all logic and intellect. Then the disease would take over and tell me, yes, you’re right you need it, go get it.

It’s weird and different for me now, but there are still struggles sometimes. I don’t feel physical hunger the way that I used to. The pangs only happen if I’ve gone too long without eating something. I’m pretty vigilant about eating on schedule. I know that if I don’t eat my planned-for snacks in between meals I won’t hit my protein target for the day.

You’d think this all would make it easier and it does, to some extent. I’m not often physically hungry so I don’t constantly want moremoremore food. The restricted stomach size keeps in check on my portions. The battle remains in my head — the mental want. If someone puts out a box of pastries or plate of cookies, it honestly doesn’t matter if I’m physically hungry. My eyes see the food and my head wants it. If I successfully control the immediate compulsion to reach for the available food and eat it, I often still have to engage in a mental debate. It’s like shoring up my own defenses against the disease of compulsive overeating.

It’s crazy how powerful the “want” can be; how loudly it can speak. I swear sometimes it translates into physical symptoms. I’ll feel it in my stomach. When that happens I try to remind myself that it’s false hunger.

If I’ve been very very good about my food plan, I may consciously permit myself to have a taste of a treat That means a single cookie instead of a handful. A bite sized piece of chocolate and not a full bar. A quarter slice of cake if we’re all celebrating someone’s birthday and so on. Not every day of course, but sometimes.

I do not, however, eat the treat unless I know it’s something that I truly enjoy. Some of you might be thinking, “Of course you wouldn’t. Who would eat something they didn’t honestly like?”

In the midst of an eating disorder, I would. I don’t love raspberries or raspberry jam, etc. In the old days, however, if the only pastries around were some sweet confection with raspberry filling, I’d go for it — even if it meant eating the pastry part and leaving the fruity stuff.

If only I could cultivate that attitude with seafood — eating something I don’t really like. 🙂

Earlier this week I was able to completely ignore guava pastries and raspberry turnovers, even though they sat in the kitchen at work alll day. Honestly, that’s a significant improvement. Remember, we’re talking about me. As a kid I once ate a pie crust out of my aunt’s freezer because I was so driven by the compulsive need and there was nothing else to be had.

I have to say that I am more successful with my debates these days than ever before. I’ll make bargains with myself. For example, if I’m driving home from work, past numerous stores, and craving Ben & Jerry’s or something else, I tell myself to go home, take care of the dogs and get to Zumba. After Zumba, if I still want the ice cream I can have one small individual serving and not buy a whole pint. Honestly, after the workout, all I really want is to get home and have my regular dinner. I could care less about going to a store and tracking down the little ice cream treat.

That’s progress. Realizing that I can savor a small treat or a sample of something instead of chowing down on a full sized portion is somewhat miraculous.

When I was 16, I started smoking cigarettes. When I was 28, I made up my mind to quit. I went through a smoking cessation program offered by a local hospital. It was intense but it worked. I rarely had the desire to smoke ever again. When I did, I remembered one important fact. They taught me that there is a timeline to the craving for a cigarette. I carried a card in my wallet for years that read, “The urge to smoke will pass whether or not I have a cigarette.” The card was right. If I made it past the most intense part of the craving, it would ease almost immediately.

I wish I could define that same kind of timeline for food. Maybe eventually I will. It’s a very real possibility that my body hasn’t yet learned the lesson and that the mental craving will hit a peak, but if I don’t give in, then ease off on its own. I don’t know.

For now, I just need to keep on doing what I’m doing — making bargains with myself, just saying no to the compulsion, permitting treats on my terms with completely awareness of the choice and not when driven by disease.

I hope that, with practice, I’ll get even better at not crossing the line between wanting something and honestly being hungry.

Body Matters General Musings

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Realistic Goals

by Mary Stella

Now that I’ve lost 100 pounds, I think I’m about half way there, give or take a couple of pounds. I do not expect to lose as rapidly as I did in the first six months. Instead, I’m trying to set realistic goals. It’s hard. My heart dreams of hitting goal weight by the one year anniversary of my surgery.

My head says, “You’re not even sure what you want to set as a goal weight. Don’t forget that you were on a liquid diet for a month after the operation and that knocked off a big chunk of pounds right at the start.”

My emotions sometimes side with my heart, telling me, “Sure. You can keep averaging 12 to 15 pounds a month. Get on that scale every morning and remind yourself how much you want this. Go! Go! Go!”

When the emotions support the head, I hear, “Do not torture yourself. When you set yourself up with unrealistic goals and don’t meet them, you feel bad. Maintain your objectivity.”

After batting around these different thoughts like psychological ping pong for awhile, I decided to cut through my own b.s. and decide what is a smart goal. That’s smart as in Specific Measurable Attainable Realistic and Time-bound. (Note: I put in realistic instead of relevant because for me, losing weight is always relevant, but for these goals I need realistic.)

I think I can reasonably expect to lose another 50 pounds by the end of this year. That’s specific — 50 pounds. With a good scale it’s measurable. I believe that I can lose weight at this rate which makes it both attainable and realistic. The end of the year is a time designation. Okay, I’m not exactly time-bound to it. If I’ve lost “only” 48 pounds by December 31st or it takes me until January 8th to lose 50, I’m not going to wail and gnash teeth that I failed to make my goal.

There are other goals within this overall one that I’ve set. Some of those are more emotional as in, “No torturing myself. No obsessing over the number on the scale every day. No beating myself up if I really, really need a treat on occasion.” Other goals have to do with my physical exercise. I’ve done great the last few weeks. I need to build on what I’ve been doing and maintain consistency. I won’t always be able to do Zumba twice a week, but I will go twice on the weeks that I can. The bottom line is cardio exercise four times a week. My Tai Chi is good for leg strength, balance, and stretching, so in coming weeks I want to add some additional strength training, focusing on my arms. I haven’t quite figured that out yet, but I will.

All of this planning can be a little dizzying and it’s really important that I don’t overwhelm my own brain. Long term goals are important as I look ahead on this journey, but I can’t lose sight of the fact that I still have to get there one day at a time.

General Musings My Progress

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Gym Class

by Mary Stella

I’m glued to the television every night watching the Olympic Games. I love watching the athletes give their best efforts in their events. Whether a 15 year old gymnast or 71 year old equestrian, the have devoted their lives to these pursuits. Whether they win is almost secondary. They all deserve to be applauded and honored for what they’ve given to even make it to the Games.

Tonight the women’s team competition in gymnastics is on. Watching these teens flip, hurdle, jump and spin on the various apparatus gives me stomach-clenching stress. This is particularly so on the balance beam. Balance beam can give me nightmares.

I hated gym class/phys ed. in school. Oh, it was okay in elementary grades when we went out and played dodgeball or kickball on our asphalt and pebble school yard. In high school, gym period gave me mental hives. First there were the awful one-piece knit uniforms we had to wear, before we even got down to the floor for 45 minutes of ~~torture~~ activity. Climb a rope up a wall to the ceiling? Yeah right. Hop up on a balance beam no more than four inches wide? Not on my best days. I’m sorry to play the fat card, but demanding that an overweight girl try those things did not achieve anything positive. Far from building self-esteem, pride in learning a skill, and the reinforcement of taking on a challenging activity, making me do those things did nothing but foster high anxiety and set the stage for humiliation.

The high school gym teachers weren’t known for soft encouragement. Yelling at students and telling someone they could do it if they weren’t so fat does not fall under the heading of positive motivation. It’s bad enough to be called names by other kids. From teachers or other adults it can devastate.

There were a few years here and there when I actually liked some physical activity. When I was in Middle School, I liked softball enough to play in our summer recreational league. My ability to hit well and my strength often made up for my lack of speed on the bases. I had a good arm, too. I played catcher, third base and centerfield, depending on what the team needed. One year our team won the league championship. For my last two years of high school, I played on the field hockey team as the goalie and on the softball team. These were fun activities in which I enjoyed the competition, felt like I contributed to the team effort, and for once didn’t feel like a terrestrial whale who wasn’t good for anything the least bit physical.

In college, thankfully, we only had to satisfy two p.e. credits in four years. One credit came from any elective sport. (I turned out to be a kick ass badminton player.) The other credit was a required course where we had to either jog around the track or swim for most of the hour. Unfortunately, that class also included a mandatory measurement of our body fat index. Lining up with your classmates, both male and female, so a teacher could do the measurement with some sort of caliper gizmo is not any sane person’s idea of a good time. One of the teachers in that class was, allegedly, a retired drill sergeant. Popular opinion was split betwen whether he’d descended from the Marquis de Sade or had secretly served with the Fuhrer.

I remember once when we all had to do a one mile jog, he pretty much inferred that all of us ladies were potential hookers because of the jewelry we wore. As an adult, I can pretty much assess him as a msyoginistic asshole. Amazing.

Looking back on those early years, I wonder if it would have made a difference in my life if gym teachers had sat down with me to devise a doable exercise plan that didn’t involve me terrified on a balance beam or burning my hands trying to haul my oversized ass up a rope. If the authority figures at school had talked to me instead of yelling. I honestly don’t know. I do, however, feel like the campaigns urging kids to get out and play for an hour a day are pretty non-threatening and they fix the message in the attitude of fun rather than drudgery and hard work.

Given my lifelong poor regard for exercise, I’m somewhat amazed that I’m embracing it more today. I actually look forward to Zumba class and Tai Chi. I remind myself to include activity in my weekend plans so that I’m doing something at least four days a week. Several years ago, we had a Curves in town. For awhile I went three times a week, really embracing the program. I don’t want to join one of the two gyms in town, but if someone would reopen the Curves franchise, I’d sign back up in a heartbeat.

I would like to continue my momentum. I know it takes months to truly change old habits and create new behaviors. I can see myself pushing on with my efforts. At the same time, I need to also take this day by day. Today I Zumbaed. Tomorrow when I wake up, I will commit to going to Tai Chi practice in the evening. Everything is helping. I can see and feel the improvement. When I watch myself doing the Zumba routines to the up tempo music, I know that my form and steps aren’t perfect. I don’t have them all down and there are some that I can’t yet do, but I keep moving.

The instructors have incredibly scuptled, defined bodies from teaching multiple classes a week. Obviously, I look nothing like them. 🙂 At least not yet. Today while keeping up with one of the faster songs, I glanced at the instructor to check my steps and had a great thought. If I keep up this effort, a year from now I will look more like the instructors than I do myself — or least the myself that I am today who is in the early stages of physical recovery and half a year post-op.

I’m going to hold onto that thought and remember it, particularly when I hit a day when I don’t want to go exercise. Regardless of which activity I do on any given day, I do my best to speak to myself in terms of encouragement and joy. It’s all about acknowledging the effort and providing positive reinforcement.

I’m not a kid to be pushed around anymore. This isn’t gym class.

General Musings The Past is the Past

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No Easy Way Out

by Mary Stella

I was browsing a weight loss surgery forum earlier this evening. Someone who had gotten herself to the point where she was moving forward with investigating having surgery and was feeling relieved, happy and hopeful posted that when she shared her decision with family, they told her that she was taking the easy way out. That harsh judgment crushed her and now she doesn’t know what she’s going to do.

Just because I had weight loss surgery does not mean that I think every single obese person in the world needs to do the same. I believe that it is a matter of personal choice. Nobody should be pushed into it if they don’t honestly feel that it is the best option for them. If they decide that wls is the best option, I further believe that the people in their lives should support that decision. Hearing that someone would criticize this woman and claim that surgery is “the easy way out” makes me angry.

There is nothing easy about doing all that is required physically, mentally and financially to prepare and receive medical clearance. There is nothing easy about going through a procedure that surgically reduces the size of your stomach — and in my case removing 70% of it. Those that have gastric bypass also have their digestive system re-routed.

Post-surgery? Let’s see — for me this involved a week of clear liquids followed by a month of full liquids. Then, a week of soft/mushy foods and weeks of gradually introducing regular foods back into my food plan. Nothing easy in that process. Throwing up at least once a day in the early weeks, fighting indigestion, learning what my system could tolerate and what it couldn’t . . . anybody who thinks that it’s all the equivalent of a day at the beach is dead wrong.

I don’t personally know the woman who wrote the post, but I bet I know a lot about her and what her struggle with food and obesity has been like over the years. None of us is terminally unique. She might have tried every diet known to man — some of them multiple times — and been on a roller coaster over the years of losing and regaining, losing and regaining. I don’t know what became her final line in the sand where she made the decision to go for surgery. Maybe, like me, she’d reached the point of absolute desperation and was convinced that she either could never lose the weight she needed to without surgery or feared that even if she lost the weight, she’d regain it.

Whatever the case, not having surgery doesn’t mean she’s weak… but having the surgery definitely requires digging deep into yourself and tapping your inner strength and resolve.

And that’s just the beginning. After the surgery, a lifetime of work begins. Day by day we plan, make choices, and, hopefully, execute those choices as planned. We completely retrain our psyches a well as our bodies. In many cases, we need to resolve the habits of a lifetime — not just in the way that we eat, but in how we treat our bodies. We have to embrace positive change and push ourselves, often in ways that we never before pushed.

I hope and pray tonight that the woman who posted is able to tune out the harsh and erroneous judgment of those people. I hope she sticks to her choices and moves ahead without allowing the negative opinion of others to divert her from her chosen course of action. I hope she realizes that it doesn’t matter what other people think or say or do. She’s the only one who matters. She needs to know that there is no way in hell that she’s chosen the easy way out.

General Musings

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The Swimming Gizmo

by Mary Stella

I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I bought this swimmy gizmo to use in my pool. I have a small pool, just barely 14 feet in length which means that I can swim about two and a half strokes end to end. It’s not meant for swimming laps. It’s about four and a half feet deep, which gives me enough water to jog and do aerobics.

When I planned the pool, I kept telling the company that I wanted jets at one end that would kick up a constant current that I could swim against. The guy told me he knew what I was talking about and, yes, my pool would have them. Well, his understanding didn’t jibe with my expectations. The jets at the end circulate the water when the pump is going but they don’t generate enough power for me to swim against. I spoke to him about it a few times after the pool was first finished, but we never progressed. I could force the issue but, instead, I found other ways to make the most out of the exercise opportunity the pool provides.

I love pulling on my suit and heading out to watercise. Even way before weight loss surgery, I enjoyed going to aquacise classes. Unfortunately, they aren’t offered early enough in the morning for me to go to class, shower, change and get to work on time, so putting in the pool at home was a luxury that I justified. I have a playlist of upbeat songs on my iPod Nano. I set it up with the outdoor speakers, set a timer on my phone and start moving. I jog, dance, do lunges and squats and, in general, push my self to keep moving for 45 minutes or so.

The pool and my yard are private enough that I don’t worry about someone seeing me and this frees me to move and dance at will. When I was at my heaviest and had difficulty simply walking without losing my breath, I could still work out in the pool and achieve some cardio benefit — without messing up my weak left knee. The pool kept me from being completely sedentary.

Now that I’ve lost weight, I’d like to do more actual swimming, or at least more than three strokes end to end. (Yes, I know that I live on a harbor with lots and lots of water. Sadly, I won’t swim in it due to the large number of boats moored in it. I can never be quite confident that those boats are following the proper pump out procedures, meaning that they actually have their tanks pumped out by the special boat.) A week or so ago, I was researching equipment to increase the effectiveness of my aqua cise. I found water dumbbells to work my arms and things to strap around my ankles for more resistance. Then I stumbled upon a swimming gizmo. Basically, it’s a long tether with ankle straps on each end. In theory, you put it around a railing or fence, strap it to your nakles and swim, knowing that the tether will keep you in place.

If you’re in the mood to be kinky, the gizmo could double for water bondage. (50 Shades of H20?)

In theory, the design is a good idea. In execution, there are challenges. I wrapped the tether around the bottom of the railing, strapped the ends to my ankles and swam out. I don’t know if the angle’s off from the railing to the water’s surface, or if I’m still carrying too much weight, but I constantly felt like my chest and head wanted to sink lower than my legs. I could not get a smooth series of strokes going no matter how I tried. I flailed around for a few minutes and then rolled over onto my back. That worked a little better, but it wasn’t great.

After about ten minutes, I decided to switch to the ankle “weights” and dumbbells. I did a bunch of different maneuvers, treading water while working my core, legs and arms for almost thirty minutes. This proved to be much more effective exercise, judging from my heart rate and the feelings in my muscles. When my timer went off, I knew that I’d worked.

After I finished my session, I studied the tether gizmo for awhile. I’m not sure what else I could do to make it work better. It wasn’t very expensive, so if I don’t figure out anything it won’t be the worst thing that happens. At least I gave it a shot. For someone who’s spent much of her life actively avoiding exercise, trying anything new is progress.

Body Matters

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Assisting My Own Efforts

by Mary Stella

I’m still musing over developing a new system or definition of reward now that I’m not using food to reward myself. I went to the jeweler to pick up my repaired neck chain. While there I browsed the earrings, but no pair stood out and made me say, “Oooooh. Pretty. Please let me see those.” Next to the jeweler is a florist. Happy to say that their weekly $5 special was a pretty mixture of pale yellow Asian lilies and deep yellow roses edged in red. I bought the bouquet and brought it home.

Still, I wasn’t satisfied. Difficult of me, some would say. I might agree with those some.

I did another Zumba class on Thursday and today I had Tai Chi practice. Both of these activities involve a lot of pivots and turns. I usually do Tai Chi in a pair of Isotoner suede-bottomed slippers and I’ve been doing Zumba in the Nike walking shoes I bought a few weeks ago. I noticed that the traction on the Nikes does not permit me to easily swivel and pivot on the wood floor. The Isotoners don’t give me any arch support. I decided that I was entitled to research other options.

Loving the Internet, I came home and googled Zumba shoes. Zumba.com has numerous shoe styles for women in cute colors. Unfortunately, my extra-wide feet will not fit into those cute female shoes. I looked at the men’s selection. One pair. In black with phosphorescent lime-lemon accents. Lime-lemon is not in my color palette.

I looked at the soles and saw what make these styles good for Zumbaing. Armed with the knowledge I started googling dance shoes for men, dance trainers, wide-width dance shoes, etc. etc. blah blah blah. I found some sites that suggested certain makes and styles and then took all that knowledge with me to Zappos. I now have two possibilities winging their way to me. Please keep your fingers crossed that one of these pairs of shoes will fit my wide feet with their fallen arches. If this happens, then I will consider myself duly rewarded. For now anyway.

More importantly, I realized that in the process I’m doing something more important than rewarding milestones. I’m outfitting myself with the tools that I need for progress every day. I’m on a journey toward better health. Getting better shoes for my exercise is not just a reward. These shoes will not only improve my efforts in class, but they’ll also help me keep from hurting my joints. Now that I’m on a roll and willingly exercising, it would totally suck to get injured.

This is one more way to assist my own efforts and optimize my success. Other ways are for me to keep the right foods in the house, pack my lunches for work, take a cooler with appropriate snacks on road trips, etc., etc. Writing this blog and being scrupulously honest about everything is part of it too.

When you live with an eating disorder, it’s incredibly easy to sabotage yourself. Doesn’t take any more time than randomly grabbing a handful of off-plan food or an extra portion and shoving it into your mouth. I don’t think there’s ever been a time when I consciously said, “I want to screw up today and here’s how I’ll do it.” Often I’d already eaten the food before my thought process kicked in and I realized what I was doing. At my absolutely worst times, I went through periods where I would wake up in the middle of the night and semi sleep-walk to the kitchen and eat. I’d wake up amid wrappers and not remember getting out of bed. Scary shit, let me tell you. I always feared one day dying like Mama Cass Elliot, choking to death on something.

It is more difficult to stay clean and to do the work that keeps me moving forward healthily, free from compulsive eating, and staying on plan. I refuse to be lazy about my recovery. I had a crappy night’s sleep and was super tired when my alarm went off this morning. I made myself get out of bed rather than opting to skip Tai Chi practice this morning. I promised myself that sometime today I’ll try out the new gizmo I bought that’s intended to let me swim in place in my pool. (My pool’s not big enough to do laps and the installer never quite got the concept that I wanted jets installed.) I’m determined that when I finish this post I’m going to tackle the household chores I set for myself today and then I’m going into the pool with that gizmo. If I choose to take a nap later, that’s okay, but I’m not giving into the comfortable, familiar tendency toward being sedentary.

For today, I’m going to look at the different ways that I’m assisting myself. I’m going to acknowledge and celebrate these things and not take them for granted.

English clergyman/poet George Herbet said that living well is the best revenge. I’m going to borrow that for today and change it to something more fitting and positive. Living well is the best reward.

Reward yourselves this weekend. However you define it, go out and live well!

***************************** Edited to Add Photos *******************************

I promised some pictures and today figured out how to work the self-timer on my camera. I hope you know that it takes a lot for me to put up less than flattering photos of myself, but I promised. I say they’re unflattering because I’m sort of frozen there waiting for the timer to go off. I’m also wearing a t-shirt and the new workout shorts I bought. My hair’s mussed, etc. etc. Okay, here goes.

The photo of me in the light blue shirt is from June 19th, a little more than a month ago. The other photo is from today. The changes are subtle. Less roll in the spare tire around my waist and a bit smaller overall in the midsection. If I’d shown my arms in the June photo you’d see that they’re thinner now. My face and neck are thinner. Not bad. Although, good Lord, I look like I’m grimacing in today’s shot. I also look a lot taller. I do think I’ve gotten back some of my height since my spine is less compressed, but I have to double-check. Mostly I look taller in this photo because the camera is sitting on a window sill so it’s perspective is a little skewed.

I don’t think I’m going to do another comparison photo until I lose another 50 pounds. I like seeing drastic differences, like this:

I used my phone to show the side detail of my new glasses. Cute dolphins!

General Musings My Progress

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Looking Back at the Lead Up to Surgery

by Mary Stella

A dear friend of mine has been investigating having weight loss surgery. The process has been a bit of a rollercoaster in recent weeks. She told me that she’d appreciate hearing more about how my thinking about the surgery changed and grew stronger
over the six months I waited between when I made the decision and when I actually had the procedure. This really resonated with me and I had to give it a lot of thought before answering.

It’s kind of ironic because tonight is one of those nights when I don’t feel particularly well. I impulsively bought a tiny frozen quiche at the food store tonight because I wanted something different other than what I’d been eating all week for dinner. I only ate the filling mostly, giving the crust to the dogs. However, shortly after I ate two small cookies but I ate them too quickly. The combination of eating too fast and eating two rich things in one meal time is bothering me. I’ll be okay in a little while, but right now I feel kind of blechy.

Which synchs well with what I want to say in answer.

Some of you who have been with me at this blog from the beginning and who might have read a post I did on Reinventing Fabulous back on March 3rd will be familiar with some of the stuff I say here, but I’ve tried to summarize, and other musings are new.

Anyway, about a year ago, I experienced a big defining moment, or maybe it was really a redefining moment. I’d mostly given up on myself in terms of ever losing the weight. To some extent, I’d grown resigned to becoming increasingly disabled and dying young. However, on a day at the sandbar when I could not physically pull myself into my boat without backing it up to much shallower water, something shifted in my soul and I knew that I wasn’t ready to give up.

That’s when I decided to have surgery. At the time I’d never heard of the procedure known as the sleeve. I only knew of the lap-band and the gastric bypass. I never once considered the lap band because I know myself well enough to get that I couldn’t trust that I wouldn’t easily find ways to eat around it. So, I was resigned that it would be the bypass, despite the misgivings I’d always had about malabsorption, etc.

Once I decided to have the surgery, it was never a question of maybe. I believe the only thing that would have stopped me would have been if one of the test/evals came back that I couldn’t tolerate the operation and anesthesia. It was only a matter of deciding which surgery and when. Honestly, as soon as I heard about the vertical sleeve gastrectomy (VSG), I was elated. This sounded like the perfect solution for me. The more that I heard, the more excited I became. When I had my consult with the surgeon for the first time last September and listened to what he had to say about it, I was even more encouraged and excited.

This feeling stayed with me for the ensuing months. I swear to God, I never once doubted the rightness of the decision. Except for maybe a few slight twinges the night before the operation, I also never doubted that I’d survive the surgery and be fine. Was I unrealistically confident? Should I have been more worried? Who’s to say? That’s just how I was and, thankfully, my confidence was rewarded with a smooth procedure and no post-op problems.

*******Warning. I’m about the drop the F-bomb a couple of times.**********

Now, did I have any emotional fears about what this huge, irrevocable change would mean in my life? Oh hell yeah. They are pretty much the same fears that sometimes beset me now. They can all be summed up with the overriding question, “Will I fuck up again?” Take that as the main question and then there are other, subsidiary, doubts. What would it be like to not turn to food when I was upset/angry/sad/lonely/dissatisfied? Could I give up the old eating habits for good? Was I strong enough to choose happiness and health over my disease? Was I brave enough, determined enough, sure enough to give up the food?

When I began to experience the emotional self-doubts, I had to reign in my own feelings before they ran rampant and stopped me before I began. I could have told myself that I was afraid of having surgery or afraid of anesthesia. I could have opted to give myself one more try at dieting away my weight. I could have rationalized myself right out of my decision, but something in me knew that if I did any of that, I was signing my death sentence.

So, the answers to all of my doubting questions? Well, let’s see. Will I fuck up again? Will I lose all of my weight and then eventually gain it all back? Maybe, but I’m doing my damnedest not to give in to that old destructive behavior and pattern.

What is it like to not turn to food when I’m hit with emotions? Often, it’s darned uncomfortable, but I’m developing other coping mechanisms rather than give into the addiction. Eating over my feelings is not an effective way to process. It never was. The only way out is through. Sometimes I slip, but so far I’ve been able to get my shit together and not fall into lengthy relapse.

Can I give up my old eating habits for good? I don’t know. I can only give them up for this meal, this snack, this day. I have to make the choice every morning. That’s my approach. Clearly earlier this evening, I didn’t make the healthiest choices. I wasn’t awful, but it would have felt better to not combine two rich foods.

The same approach applies to the remaining questions. I cannot right now say that this success is forever. I don’t have a crystal ball or the power to see into the future. I can only do what I need to do right now, today, then get up and do it again tomorrow.

I don’t know if this is helpful to any of you out there who might be considering weight loss surgery, but it’s my process. Your mileage may vary. I particularly want to be clear that I do not judge if you or someone else starts the process and then changes her mind and decides to go some other route than surgery. I absolutely don’t want anyone to interpret my thoughts/feelings about my choices to mean that I’m invalidating their different choices. Someone else might experience the journey in a completely different way. I certainly would not presume to say that my experience is the only way or the right way or any other way than the one that was right for me to follow.

Weight loss surgery is a big decision and a large, complicated undertaking. Plus, it’s only the beginning. The hardest work starts after the surgery. That’s when we begin to implement the changes that we intend to embrace for the rest of our lives. Just typing that makes it all sound overwhelming, so I go back to what I learned in OA. One day at a time. I only can do this one day at a time.

I’ve had six months of one day at a time and, thankfully, those days are adding up to something pretty incredible.

General Musings My Progress

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Weighty Matters

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Flicking the Switch

Once a Food Addict

Sizing Things Up

Between Want and Hunger

Realistic Goals

Gym Class

No Easy Way Out

The Swimming Gizmo

Assisting My Own Efforts

Looking Back at the Lead Up to Surgery

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