Working out the kinks April 1, 2009

Dear Kim-

So much for that whole schedule thing I came up with, right? Wow, aren’t I brilliant! With the schedule, we will be PERFECT BLOGGERS and that will help us be PERFECT PATIENTS.

Oh, I am so very funny.

I can’t seem to keep to a schedule for more than a week, ever. You know that trick they teach you to make an appointment for the gym and then you’ll go? Doesn’t work so well for me. I mean, I go to bed with the intention of going to the gym, I write it on my calendar and then reality hits. I wake up and I’m too tired or I need to go to work earlier than usual or…something. Hell, I’ve even been managing to miss my weekly fitness classes on Saturdays just because I’ve been out of town for the past few weekends. That, of course, just means that I should be making more of an effort to get that exercise in. So yeah, I’m exercising…not as much as I would feel I should be but more than I ever used to. You asked me ages and ages ago what I do for exercise so here’s what I do:

At the gym, I love the elliptical. I do 45-60 minutes on a LifeFitness machine, set at least at level 12 in the hill program. Any less than that (time or level) and I don’t have that “Wow, that was a good workout” feeling. I try and alternate that with treadmill time since I am trying to get into the whole running groove. I’ll warm up for 5 minutes with a fast walk, then jog for as long as I can, then do intervals for the rest of the time, usually for a total of 35-45 minutes. After the cardio, I do some weights…either resistance machines if I’m in a hurry or free weights if I have time. My trainer-lady from my fitness class is a big fan of combining free weights with things like squats and lunges, so I tend to do things like bicep curls with squats or tricep lifts with lunges.

And then on Saturdays I do Fitness Without Walls, with Sheila, who is the third part of my Holy Trinity of Health (the other two being my PCP and my shrink). Sheila is insanely peppy and energetic and able to do things with her body that I can only imagine being able to do. She’s also encouraging and careful and completely non-judgy. I hate, hate, HATE getting up and dragging my exhausted self out there so early on a Saturday, but I always feel so good afterwards (even if the core class is basically 45 minutes of TORTURE) that it’s worth it in the end. I started working with Sheila 3 weeks after my surgery; her program was the “prescribed” work out program for my surgeon’s office. There’s other post-ops in the class with me, and we joke all the time about loose skin bouncing around. Hee-larious. But the best thing about Sheila is that she’s watched my progression from 318 pounds to 205. She’s seen me go from lagging at the back of the class to being one of the ones she insists be in the running group. You should have seen her excitement when I told her about how good my numbers were at my last checkup, should have seen the high five she gave me when I bragged about jogging for 20 minutes without stopping. Yeah, she kicks my ass and sometimes I walk funny the next couple days, but she refreshes my self-confidence and polishes up my feelings of well-being, and that’s really what exercise should do.

So this spring I’m going to start making more of an effort to do more outside activities like FWW. more walking with friends, more hiking with Kevin, more random games of tag with my friends’ kids. And yeah, maybe a bit of running just for running’s sake.

How about it? Want to come play outside with me?

L, M.

Gearing up for hard conversations March 23, 2009

Hey there Melinda–

Sorry about going dark for a couple days. I was in a dark mood. But taking care of myself in gentle ways– going for walks, smelling the fresh air, continuing to search for the elusive perfect position……

I was so happy to hear that you are taking care of yourself and not starting off with golden Mcnugget happiness and ending up with serious stomach distress.  You (we) deserve good food. Good fresh food. And to take care of our bodies, our skin, our joints, our hair. I realize I spend way too much time in my pj’s these days and now have a guideline that jammies have to be off by 11am, and showers taken. I know this would be a serious luxury for you and the job and school and husband and napping kitties, but trust me, after 6 weeks of it, you too would be a directionless sloth in fuzzy jammie pants. Potentially with either hearts or clouds covering your ass (depending on what mood you were in).

I am inspired about your Cooking Light and will seek a new recipe this week to attack. I did make tortilla soup over the weekend (not the good clear broth kind with floating fresh avocado– no, the black bean and corn kind that I like to refer to as Poop Soup– because, well yes it helps and two, well yes it kind of looks the same in our coming out) and will attempt to have that for lunch or dinner 3 times this week. It will have me get all my protein and fiber in one sitting. No pun intended.

Since the layoff, depression ebbs and flows. Sometimes I am really mad at my former boss and have visions of going back and being bigger/bolder/better than ever. And then I realize that I got eliminated, I am just grieving. I didn’t do anything wrong. But it still feels a lot like “Why me?” so until I can get out of that phase, I stand stuck.  To jolt this along, I am walking and exercising more. And up until yesterday smoking more.  But then we did the bills…..

Early last week, the boyfriend and I started having those hard conversations– budget, money, debt, career, move in-conversations.  He brought all his financial stuff over, and we went through it. And he, like every American, is in debt. We figured what it would cost him to live here vs. at home with his folks and he loses money by living here. Splitting rent/food/utilities plus the additional money on gas for work…. it’s not pretty. The first thing he says,

“We can’t afford to smoke. No really, it’s like $9.75 a pack and I just don’t have the money.”

So we quit. Again. We celebrated that decision by heading to the diner for dinner with the rest of our packs and realizing we didn’t have $10 for the burger and fries– so I got cottage cheese, he got soup, and we split fries. And I finished my last cigarette and wondered aloud if I needed one more. And I chose to be a non-smoker, right then.

I’m going to have to keep choosing it everyday, but I have faith that I can do this. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again.

So we had the hard conversations. And I didn’t overeat, overprepare, or overanxiety-out on him. We just talked and it was normal and mellow. And we figured that there is work for both of us to do to have the kind of life we want. Maybe two jobs for him, maybe taking a step down for me to get something faster.

He left Sunday and  I didn’t overeat. I did eat, graze, snack….. and noticed that I was doing it. And stopped it when it got to be too much. Sometimes I let myself be consoled by food. See, I don’t eat that much while he is here- I have 3-4 meals and 1-2 snacks on the weekend. Yesterday I let myself be consoled by food. And I woke up this morning with a food hangover, being a non-smoker, and sipping my coffee about ready to take off my jammies and head to the gym….

I can’t be perfect. That’s the hardest conversation I am having with myself.  I can just be gentle with myself when I need to be.

Kim

Sobriety February 28, 2009

Dear Melinda,

I guess I should have prefaced my last post with– it’s mostly snark, with a tint of real in it.  Absolutely, guilt and shame have helped me along the way to almost 400 pounds,  I’d feel guilty for being heavy, then eat something to forget it, and then feel ashamed. I only ate large quantities with others who were going through the same thing, or found groups of friends that otherwise alternatively pushed emotions away with alternatives that are in the same way addictive.   Just when I think I have healed the guilt of one thing/ issue/ lesson– another surfaces. And then it’s the same cycle again.

What WLS is teaching my head is that ever day is a day to be present. To my emotions, my body, my life. Last night, I was not so present– I drank a bottle and half of red wine, consumed loads of chocolate, and at one point thought I was going to puke. The redeeming factor is that I did it with two of my best friends– and had a fabulous time. But oh boy, am I paying for it today.

Have I told you that recently I am obsessed with addiction shows? Intervention, Sober House, Till Debt do Us Part, and anything that is about drugs and alcohol. I realize more and more, when folks talk about their sobriety, they mean so many different things. It got me thinking, what is my sobriety? Sobriety, according to some online dictionaries, is refraining from excess.  I look around my life, and it is full of excess. Joy, laughter, pain, heartache, love, wishes, dreams. Those are the good ones. (Again, that good and bad thing). Then the not so good ones– the actual things, not emotions: Debt, smoking, sleep, food, alcohol (at times), gossip.

So what would sobriety look like for me? A routine. Convenant with myself that aligns who I want to be with who I am. I want to be a loving, open, accessible woman who is free to express herself emotionally. In some relationships I have this. In others, not so much. Sober for me would be an eating plan, mapping out calories, not the “I don’t know what I want”. It would be saving for things, not spending on whims.  Going to bed and rising at about the same time every day. Refraining from TV when I am bored. Refraining from smoking, eating when I am bored. Starting and finishing projects. Paying bills on time and on schedule.

And making amends. I realize I can’t do this on my own. I need people in my life that support me and that I have a relationship based on love and trust, not because I can help them. And that I love and trust myself to treat myself in a way that honors who I am and what I am to accomplish.

The first step: I joined WW. I figure I am 70 pounds from goal weight. And that an accountability would make a difference for me. This first week, I alternately binged and wrote most everything down. Almost a “this is where I am at week”. And tracked what I was feeling at the time. Like right now, I want a chocolately covered yodel and to wash it down with a huge glass of milk. But I also know I am full from lunch and for once do not have that garbage in my house. So, I just have to keep telling myself it’s nice to want things. I don’t have to have them immediately. I can wait.  I’ll find out tomorrow what a difference of a few small changes has made on the scale. But this was more than “I need to lose weight”.  This is about I need the accountability.

I do feel cleaner inside. And my bills are paid, and my resume is updated, and I am interesting in gaining a life free of excess.

A little deep. But what do you expect. It’s Saturday evening of a terrible hangover.

Have I told you that writing my guts out makes a difference for me?  It does. Thanks to you, I now have a schedule. So jump on board– you too!

Much love–

Kim

What will keep me from eating February 19, 2009

M–

You asked this before. And I completely ignored you. Well, more like “didn’t read that bit because my eyes were filled with smoke and wine”, but here I am.  naked, before the internet. Telling you (me, us) what will keep us from eating.

Things that have and have not worked:

Shame. Shame is a good tactic. It allowed me for years to hate my body and wish everything that could help me would.

Willpower. I am stronger than that piece of cheese until it’s covering a lovely slice of toast and pickle, and well, then it’s got a hold on me.

Remorse. For all the beautiful but too big clothes I will have to re-purchase or steal from my friends to fit into things that are 3 sizes bigger than I am now.

Guilt. Guilt works. The Catholic Church has used this for years. God is gonna getcha.

The first time I heard about gastric bypass from my doctor, I was mortified. Mortified that I was so fat that she was encouraging me to cut myself open and get rearranged.  I made a promise that I was going to lose weight on my own for three months to see where I was at, and then we could have another conversation. I made an appointment for 3 months later, cancelled after a week of eating non-stop, and never went back to her again.

The second time, a friend suggested that I “never had known normal”.  Because I was always large. Too big for child toys (ahh, the hippity hop I never had), not being able to shop without a super plus department (as the department stores only cater to a handful of 24’s), not fitting into chairs with arms.  I looked into it, was mortified that my friend would suggest this, and never spoke to her again.

Then my mom had it. And she was peaceful in her decision. She looked great, and felt great and was doing things she had never done before. She jump started my life again.

So I quit smoking and started the path.  For a year, I was doing great. And then got comfortable. Met a great guy, started smoking again, started eating again. Wasn’t taking care of myself.  And here I am, 18 months out, and panicked that my life will be obese forever.

What will keep me from eating?  I don’t know. For me, it’s a combination of feeling so good about myself that the damn tape in my head shuts off and I just get up and go to the gym. That I shop when I am full and only eat food that is actual food (instead of processed carby things). It’s not drinking when I am eating, and maybe even not drinking at all (alcohol).  I recently discovered wine and am prone to alone drinking. Growing up with folks that are drinkers, that’s a bad bad scary bad road to go down.

It might be going to weight watchers and believing that I can do it. It might be acknowledging that I am no longer almost 400 pounds, and am now only 70 pounds from my ideal weight. It might be giving myself a chance to be normal, to make mistakes, to love myself.

Sometimes I feel like I missed out on my life.

I’m having a re-birthday. I am saying this stops and new starts. And I am acknowledging I am powerless. Without getting into the whole higher power thing, I am but a spirit in a human world and there are lessons to learn and grow from.

This is the lesson. To love myself so much that I cause no harm. To me, to others.

And when that lovely piece of cheese calls me from the kitchen, I can say no. This time. Right now.

Navel gazing at it’s best.

Much Love,

Kim