Please Don't Feed the Animals!

One of the worst things about working in my office is that well-meaning people often bring in food for everyone to enjoy. Hardly a day goes by that I'm not tempted by a pan of fudgey brownies, a basket of muffins, a coffee cake or, worst of all, a plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies or snickerdoodles.

All of these are typically laid out on the table where I used to get my coffee, and I always found it difficult to hold back while pouring my java. Interested in removing myself from tempting circumstances, I took matters into my own hands and got a coffee pot which I keep in a different, snack free location. Now I can enjoy my morning brew without placing myself in a difficult situation.

That being said, I certainly do not begrudge anyone else their morning sugar rush. Temptations like these will face me the rest of my life and I have to learn how to prioritize and make good decisions. That's right--I have to learn to make good decisions in the face of temptations--I don't need someone else to make them for me.

And there's very little that gets my panties in a bunch quite like having someone "help" me decide what to eat. Before anyone knew I had lost weight, no one bothered me about what I ate. Now that my efforts are common knowledge around my office, my stick thin boss is constantly advising me not to eat the baked goods people bring in. Usually, when someone has a birthday she says something like, "you don't want any cake, right?" I realize that she is thin because she doesn't eat, but I would never want that to be my reality.

My goal is to lose 120 pounds, and it's become apparent that it might take me years to accomplish. Thinking that I can or even should go without the occassional piece of cake or ice cream cone for the next 3 years seems crazy. Firstly, it suggests that what I'm doing is merely a temporary diet that I can go off of when I reach my goal. But the trouble with that is that I imagine I would pack the pounds back on fairly quickly if I bought into that philosophy. Secondly, I don't think complete self denial would work out so well for me. It wouldn't take me very long to start feeling deprived and we all no where that would go.

As a side note, it could just be my deep-seated difficulty with authority, but when someone advises me not to eat something, it usually increases my desire to eat it. I know that's self sabotaging, but I don't want people to think that I'm going to stop eating because I'm trying to lose weight. (When I was at my heaviest, I was always reluctant to eat junk food in front of people because I didn't want anyone to think, "no wonder she's fat!"). I know that smacks of disordered eating, but what can I say? I'm a work in progress.

I owe my success to BBC!

The most dangerous time of day for my weight loss efforts is from 5-6:30PM. I usually come through the front door by quarter to five at which point my Pomeranian is dying to doodle. I take her to do her business, then I schlep upstairs where I change into something comfortable.

The trouble is, that for the next 1.5 hours, I'm alone with the food. I know that the 100 calorie snack packs are sitting defenseless in the pantry. This is also typically the time when I am still stressed out from work. I'm tired and cranky and probably hungry, but most importantly, I'm usually jonesing for some sugar.

Before I started my efforts to lose weight, my binges were extraordinary. I'd gather up anything that looked good and consume a whole days worth of calories in the passage of a half an hour. Over the last year, I have reformed. While the need to feed still takes over, at least the items I'm consuming are more innocuous. I know I could do some serious damage with Weight Watchers ice cream and Quakes, but I'd have to try pretty damn hard.

Nevertheless, I would very much like to beat my post work mini binges. And it seems like I may do just that with the help of the BBC! Lately, from 5-6pm, I've been tuning in for a full hour of the show How Clean is Your House? which often depicts sights so ghastly that it challenges my ability to hang on to my lunch, let alone shovel in an afternoon snack!

If you are unfamiliar, let me enlighten you but I warn you, this is not for the feint of heart or anyone who is currently eating: The hosts of the show, Aggie and Kim, travel throughout England helping people clean their hopelessly dirty homes. The filth they encounter in each show goes way beyond mere clutter and simply defies belief. Usually, the show features carpets that have never seen a vacuum, toilets caked with various types of bio hazard, rotting food scattered about and some sort of insect infestation. The two worst I have seen so far featured no less than 5 dead mice clustered together in various stages of decomposition and an infestation of slugs! If you aren't sick yet and would like to see more, you can find enough to "put you off your tea," as Aggie and Kim say, on youtube.

My disgust lingers for awhile after the program is over, so it carries me through until I am out of the danger zone. As an added bonus, the show provides me with wonderful inspiration to clean up my own apartment. I probably shouldn't get too comfortable depending on disgust to keep my snacking at bay. But I know that just as snacking has become a major habit for me, not snacking can too. I'm hoping that overtime, I will be free of the pre dinner need to feed and eventually will not have to rely on revulsion to help me get into my new pants, but right now, I'm tuning in daily.

So thanks, BBC, for your vile programming. I couldn't do it without you!

Closer to Pretty

The thing with having a lot of weight to lose is that it isn't an instant gratification situation. Actually, for the first year/35 pounds only people who knew I was trying to lose weight ever commented on my success. In fact, only a few months ago a concerned co worker pulled me aside to talk about how much weight she had lost and to say, "I just wanted to let you know that I'm happy to talk to ANYONE who is thinking about gastric bypass."

I was pissed! I had worked so hard and was losing weight even if it was coming off slowly. I felt like she should recognize it or at least not bully me about surgical options, so I told her I'd pass it along if anyone asked.

It wasn't until recently when, as I began to approach my 50th pound, and bought new clothes in a size 18 to compliment my shrinking bod, that people really started to notice. It was exactly what I had thought I wanted. Every day, at least one person told me how much thinner or "better" I looked and my boss constantly told me how "proud" she was of me. (Her "pride" is another post by itself).

Now, I work with a lot of women, and if there's one thing I've learned over the last year of struggling with my weight, listening and reading other blogs, it's that most women, no matter what their size at least say they want to lose weight. We live in a figure obsessed culture, so I tried to accept compliments gracefully as they came.

But for some reason, I have difficulty making the same allowances for my family. I visited my mother this weekend, and found my grandparents chillin' their as usual. I was wearing an outfit that fits and so was barraged with compliments as soon as I came in. I was actually enjoying having my head expanded until my mother said, "between the braces and the weight loss, you'll be very pretty when you're all done." *Shit*

It reminded me of the time, about a year ago, when I'd been on my diet for a few months, and was talking to my dad about kids. I said that I'd like to have kids some day, but, as I have never even been on a date before, it seems like my chances of falling in love and starting a family are limited. He said, "I don't know. You're losing weight; maybe someone will ask you out when you get thin enough."

Both times I felt my stomach lurch. I felt angry and ashamed and very sad, I think because I was glimpsing what my parents really thought of me. Not pretty yet. Too fat to date, but getting there. I wanted to cry but felt confused. They were complimenting me, right? Then why do I feel like shit? Thinking about it makes my eyes sting with tears, even now.

The truth is, I'm losing weight in an attempt to avoid the diabetes that has claimed my parents. If I do meet someone when I'm thinner, will I ever really know whether he would have loved me now or last year? Should it matter? Is physical attraction all that matters for men?


I guess I'll have to wait until I'm a little closer to pretty to find out.

Everyone who knows me well, knows that I've been battling my weight my whole life. I've never known what it's like to be thin and I've had a serious yearning to find out for as long as I remember.

The trouble is that, through out my life, I would start a diet with an event in mind. I would want to lose weight by the end of summer vacation so I could wow all my classmates with my super hot new bod. Or I'd want to lose weight by Christmas to impress my extended family. As I became older and more goal oriented, I thought that it would be nice to lose all the weight I needed to lose by New Year's Eve. Or by the start of high school or college or grad school.

I think goals are great, but the problem is that they were seldom achievable. Thinking I could be capable of losing 50 pounds in the course of three months was short of realistic. Always the planner, I would lay out the number of pounds I needed to lose per day and week to achieve my goal. However, when week one came to a close and I wasn't 4.16 pounds lighter, I felt like a failure. I would decide that I would never lose 50 pounds, so why even try, and I would fall hopelessly off the wagon.

The kicker is, that when the next event began to loom, I would always say, "If only I had stuck to my diet, I would be where I wanted to be right now."

Now as the New Year is already looming ahead of me, I'm well aware that I need to lose about 1.75 pounds per week to get below 200 pounds by the time the ball drops. Given that information, standing on the scale in my Weight Watchers meeting and finding out that I had only lost .8 pounds should have sent me into a cookie eating spiral.

However, on the walk back to my office I had a sort of epiphany. Maybe I won't be down below 200 pounds on New Year's Eve, but if I continue doing what I'm doing now, I'll certainly be closer to it than I am today and closer still by New Year's Eve 2009! I'm the one who set the goal! Who cares if I fall a little short of it as long as I don't give up!!! I've got a lot of years left to live and every healthy choice I make brings me closer to living them the way I want to--even if it takes a lot longer than I want it to.

How do you fight strawberry shortcake?

I'll confess, I'm having some difficulty. Sometimes, I try to do this and it's effortless. The wonderful thing about that is that being on track tends to be a system that feeds itself. I feel in control and badass and confident, and that makes it easier to turn down pizza.

Right about the time I start to think that this is going to be easy, an event comes up--A birthday, party, vacation, fill in the blank--and I get off track. I make unwise choices. This wouldn't be so terrible if it wasn't for the fact that I then have a tough time convincing myself that it's a good idea to start counting points again. I usually restle with this for a week (though sometimes longer), than I get back on track and lose for a week, and then the cycle repeats.

The result is that my net weight stays about the same while I feel like I'm always on a diet. I need to get back on track for more than 2 days--UGGGG!

A bad week

This week was rough for me. I have my weigh-in tomorrow and I'm just hoping that I lost something--even just 1 pound. Why was it so rough? A combination of things. My mother's birthday was Thursday and Mother's Day was Sunday. I had final papers and presentations and exams to take care of. So I would say that it was a combination of environmental (I was surrounded by cake) and emotional(I was incredibly stressed out) factors.

I seriously considered not posting this week and avoiding my Weight Watchers meeting tomorrow. Then I realized how self-sabotaging that would be. This week wasn't that bad! Most days, I did a good job counting my points. I may have used flex points, but I wrote them down and held myself accountable. My worst day this week was still fifty times better than my best day during most days over the past six years. Just the fact that I knew enough to feel a little guilty about cake and ice cream says something about how far I've come.

I realized that if I avoided posting and attending my meetings, I would be establishing a very dangerous precedent for myself. I would be saying that it just didn't count when I didn't feel like doing what I was supposed to do. It would be like pretending that my actions didn't have any consequences.

So here it is. My pre weigh-in post. 100% present and accountable.

Not ready to be a poster child

As I've mentioned before, I'm in love with my pedometer. I wear it every single day, and I depend on it to encourage me to move. It never lets me down. Usually, pedometers suck. They're usually incredibly unreliable. You could walk 10 miles, and your pedometer will tell you that you've only take 875 steps, but the vibrations from riding in the car make your readout look like you just completed the Boston Marathon. Irritating!!!!

The one I've been using for the past year is actually very different. It measures very accurately, has a jogging strap so it doesn't fall off and can even record from a purse or pocket. Because I hate having anything digging into my muffin top, I often let it dangle upside down from the jogging strap (it measures upside down too! Cool, huh?).

Consequently, people in my office started asking me what I was wearing. I shared my enthusiasm. I also let people in my "active living" and "healthy eating" groups know about them. As a result of my unintentional saleswomanship, at least 30-40 people have purchased the model I have been using. Those people sang the pedometer's praises so loudly, that there is now a mini Omron pedometer-wearing sub culture at my university.

My university is really trying to promote wellness. To that end, they invite all full time faculty and staff to come to health-related presentations. That's the reason why on Friday a photographer showed up at my office door. She said that she heard that I was known for pedometer wearing (interesting thing to be "known" for) and that she was hoping to take my picture. It would be put into a PowerPoint presentation for one of the wellness presentations.

I paused to consider: My full body picture, blown up to about 3X bigger than life size, on a massive screen in front of a few hundred people. I was suddenly filled with terror. I didn't want to leave her hanging, but I definitely wasn't comfortable, so I had a coworker stand in.

My sister was completely ticked off when I told her about it. She said that it's a repeating pattern in my life that I step back from opportunities, especially opportunities for recognition. I disagreed whole-heartedly, but afterwords, I wondered, is it true?

Mental list:

I skipped my induction into the Jesuit Honor Society, I skipped my graduation ceremony for both my bachelors and masters, I "lost my voice" when I was supposed to sing on stage in high school, I decide against going for my PhD or joining the Peace Corps.

She's right. Most of the major decisions I have made in my life, I have at least subconsciously made with safety in mind. Whenever I consider doing something new, I also consider how weight will influence the way I am perceived and my ability to succeed. This was a very sad realization for me.

It's stupid to wait to live until I'm at my goal weight. True, I will gain confidence as I progress, but why hold off?

Nevertheless, I'm not ready to be a poster child just yet.