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

One body, one life March 16, 2009

Dear Kimmie Poo-

Am I being gentle with myself?

Finally, for once, I can say yes. This weekend was amazingly, decadently full of self-care. It was, as usual, incredibly busy but it was chock-full of things that I wanted to do. Breakfast and shopping with friends. Two hours of massage and facial action. Naps and birthday parties and grocery shopping and kitty snuggling.

It was during the facial that I had this…moment, for lack of a better word. You know that osteoporosis commercial where Sally Field declares that she “only has this one body and this one life?” For some reason, Sally’s voice popped into my head, repeating that over and over as I had my face exfoliated and massaged by my aesthetician. And I realized that man, she’s right.

One body. One life. And I could choose to take care of those two things or I could keep on imploding and self-destructing. And I decided, right there on that table with my eyes closed and some chanty music wafting around me while my pores were steamed within an inch of being that I’m going to start taking care of myself again.

The thing is, when my therapist asked me what I do for self-care, the only thing I could come up with was my weekly workout on Saturday mornings. And that is just unacceptable. I deserve to have fresh, wholesome food available at home; I deserve to get a massage every month; I deserve to have a body that’s as fit as it can be. And I am the only one who can make sure all of that happens, so I spent the rest of the weekend making it work. I scoured my Cooking Light magazines for recipes, I made grocery lists and weekly menus and plotted out exactly what I’m going to eat every day.

Don’t get me wrong; I did not write out precise directions with calorie counts and fat gram calculations. I just finally gave some thought to what I was putting into my body, instead of giving in to the “whatever I can grab” theory I’ve been living by lately. I love lists, I love checking things off, and having my food listed out for the week has helped me make it through today without feeling that willpower struggle. I’m not dieting, truly; I’m just having a plan and I’m just following my list! It’s a to-do list to make me feel healthy again instead of sluggish and gross and disappointed in myself.

I discussed this whole thing with my therapist tonight and she actually said it seems like a good coping mechanism for me, so I’m going to go with it. Bonus: saving money by eating in! And husband eats some healthy food too!

Now I just need to get back on track with the gym once my ankle finishes healing. One step at a time though, right?

L, M.

De Clutter March 12, 2009

Dearest M,

I’m happy to have received your update. Interesting that both of us “set a schedule” and then can’t follow through.  I know I have tons to write about, but managing writing is something I don’t like to do.  Just doing it makes the difference for me.

When I begin a letter or a post, I usually have no idea what I am going to say. This holds true for this post. I know I want to talk about de-cluttering– it’s an offshoot of getting off the procrastination wagon, coming clean with myself, and discovering what sobriety is.

So first– WW. The first week, I lost nothing. I however, actually went to the meeting and weighed in, knowing that I could have gained. The second week, a three pound drop– and immediately I went to “it’s not enough, you’ll gain it back, it’s nothing”.  A wise leader once told me that it would be “useful to be a novice in the conversation of yourself”.  After pondering that, hearing what I am saying to myself after a three pound drop, and feeling all the fear of never being normal– I am becoming a novice in the conversation of myself.

I totally understand the WW point thing, and how it can lead to the obsessive behavior that then triggers compulsive overeating. I have been right there with you, writing down everything, tracking every mouthful, tracking things I think about eating– and then (at least for me) blowing it all in the evening.  Wake up and new day to do it again, so that the cycle becomes faster and more vicious, until the Saturday morning I don’t get out of bed and weigh in, and call it off. The difference for me this time is I am using it like a tool, a guideline. I am not tracking, but making different choices. The weight isn’t peeling off me as it has in the past. And it’s a choice.

I wonder what it would take for me to commit to the whole program.  Right now, I am a bystander– still drinking, still enjoying a cookie every now and again, tracking in my head. I’ll keep you clued in on the process, and I think you are right, it does have that AA quality to it– being in the room and hearing others stories does impact me in some way.

And on to drinking– girl, I feel you. I wonder why we do these things to ourselves?  Last night I consumed a bottle of wine and attacked the boyfriend and didn’t sober up until the morning. I don’t get the hangover like I used to, but I still feel crappy (I mean poopy) in the AM and kick myself.  All those points. It’s like my head turns off when “I want to have fun” and I don’t have the ability to be the vigilant perfect WLS patient I once was. I have to admit, that person was a little boring, but I liked her results.

I’d like to strike the balance between the two.

And now, on to de-cluttering– the boyfriend moves in in about a month. The first time he’s moved away from home, the first time for me living with a loved one and partner. I had to clear out space in my life to create this relationship, and now I am clearing out space in my apartment to have him be here and welcomed into something we are creating together. Which means I have to do tons of filing and paperwork and sorting and shifting and tossing and boxing up.

This is where it gets hard. For us to have a life together, I need to clean up mine. And it’s not only the physical space, but the emotional space. I realize I am putting a lot of un-necessary pressure on him to step it up. And I am not stepping up at all. Actually, not stepping. Haven’t been to the gym in over a month, haven’t set foot on the wii since January, and barely leave the confines of my couch. Yesterday I just let myself be sad/angry/mad/weepy/disjointed when I found my former job posted as a 15 hour a week intership. At first I was mad, then I thought I should apply for it out of vengeance, then I was really mad, then I calmed down and let myself mourn my old job. See, I don’t want the job I just had– I want the one from June. Before the new person was hired, division changed, the market crashed. I want the one that was sunshine and roses and overtime. And it’s gone.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. WAAAAAA. POOR POOR PITIFUL ME!!!!!!

And after the crying, I took a shower and felt tons better. Did my hair and drank a bottle of wine with good friends over dinner, and the boyfriend surprised me with a mid-week visit.  YAY ME!

So, the job hunt, well, it’s not terrible. Not a lot of bites, but I’m not worried.  I can’t be. I can only focus on what I can control.  So today, I will focus on doing some de-cluttering– cleaning out the old to create the new.

I guess that’s what I am doing all along, cleaning out the old habits, the old patterns, and creating something new. With this body, with this energy, with this job search, with the boyfriend moving in, with this relationship. I have always wanted to be the person I am right now– excited about the future, ready to tackle big projects, and off my couch.

Spring cleaning, per se. Hmmm.

So, any patterns you see for yourself that you might want to shift?

Love always–

K

It starts with the addiction, doesn’t it? March 11, 2009

Dear Kim-

I’ve been all over the map and flighty with you lately, I know. Life has been all over and flighty with me so I figured I would share the wealth!

It’s interesting that you have rejoined WW. I’ve had moments when I considered going back but then I remembered the resentment I had and the fantastically disordered eating it triggered for me. WW and I are not meant to be, I must admit. But I hope it works for you. It definitely has the feel of an AA group, so perhaps it will help lead to the sobriety you are seeking.

It’s odd that you brought up sobriety, because really, that’s what we are all looking for isn’t it? Normalcy and control and sobriety. But here’s the thing: there is no “sober” when it comes to eating, is there? It’s not like we can stop eating, right? And I think there are times when a little excess is a good thing.

Like this past weekend, for example. Last weekend was the infamous Weetacon weekend put on by the fabulous Weetabix. It is a weekend filled with booze and friends and love and snow. And booyah and pineapple fluff and bratwurst and brownies and hamburgers and fried cheese curds and chili with spaghetti in it. And I had some of it all (except the bratwurst, because I prefer the booyah). I don’t regret a single bite of food that brossed my lips because all of it tasted exactly perfect and was just what I wanted right then, and I didn’t even think about my protein intake. Can you imagine??

See, when I was in WW, I knew exactly how many points were in each bite of food I had. And now, after the surgery, I’ve memorized protein contents. The only problem is that (as my therapist pointed out) I use those protein counts to rationalize an awful lot of my food choices. Lattes have protein! Hell, butter crossaints have like 5 grams of protein! So it’s okay for me to eat those things because there’s protein! So she’s having me work on not thinking about the nutritional content of all of my food, but to start thinking about what I really, truly want and even take it a step further and listen to my body and figuring out what IT wants.

So foodwise, I did okay this weekend. I ate some french fries, I ate some cheese curds, I buried my face in a bowl of booyah. But I only ate as much as I wanted so I never felt sick afterwards, I didn’t feel like throwing up because I was so full, and I didn’t regret any of it.

What I did regret was the alcohol poisoning on Saturday night. I’ve been so lucky so far; every time I’ve indulged in some boozing, it’s been unharmful…easy drunk, easy sober, no hangover and no throwing up. And lots of entertainment for my friends. But this weekend we were at the Bad Bar and I stopped drinking at 11:30 and started pounding water and I could not sober up. 2am came and I was still dry heaving and drunk and totally unable to sober up and quite frankly, it was scary.

It was scary to not know what was going on with me, to not be able to figure out how to make it stop, to think about the damage I might have done to my liver and my brain and teeny, tiny stomach. And it reminded me that I am not normal anymore, and I need to take care of myself instead of damaging myself anymore than I already have. My inner self-destruct mode still hasn’t calmed down yet, I guess. I spent years trying to destroy myself by eating crap that barely qualifies as food and now that I would rather have a salad my inner demons have decided vodka will work just as well. So it’s back to a single glass of wine or one beer for me. Oh, those lovely addictive personality traits. SO much fun to deal with, aren’t they??

I promise I’m back on track with entries this week, pinky swear.

L, M.

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

Thoughts on the alternatives February 19, 2009

Dear Kim-

Let me ask you something.

Are guilt and shame and remorse really the way we want to go here? Are those the emotional tools we want to use to keep ourselves healthy?

I have to admit, I didn’t have much shame about my body before this whole surgery shindiggity. I didn’t have much love for it either though; in fact, I think I was totally disconnected from it. It was simply what I was housed in, and I never, ever had a realistic view of just how big I was because I just didn’t think about it.

But the guilt. Oh, the guilt. I’m a binge eater and a compulsive overeater, and that meant I spent my whole life eating and then hiding the fact that I was eating, because it doesn’t count if no one sees you inhale a pint of ice cream, right? And dieting just made it worse for me, because then food was either Good or Bad, Evil or Saintly. But I got so tired of thinking about food that way. Why can’t food just be food? Why can’t Good Food be something really decadent and drool worthy? Why does it only have to be low in calories and fat and taste?

Getting rid of the guilt was actually a big part of why I had the surgery. I was tired of thinking about every bite I out in my mouth, of weighing its relative badness against the diet I was on. (The irony here, of course, is the fact that I have never thought about the food I was eating as much as I did for the first 6 months after my surgery.) So as much as it scares me to not have the guilt around to keep me in check, I’m going to learn to let it go.

Maybe instead of guilt and shame and remorse, we can learn to use love and compassion and enjoyment to keep ourselves in line. And by that I mean love ourselves enough to feed our bodies correctly, have compassion for ourselves and those times when chocolate is the only thing that will soothe us, and enjoy the food we choose to eat.
That first one is kind of easier than it sounds, because I don’t know about you but man, my body reacts quickly to bad nutrition. Too many carbs or too much sugar or not enough protein and I’m all out of whack….tired or bloated or naseous or all three. I am very, very thankful that it only takes a day or so of bad nutrition to wake me up to things, rather than a month or two like it used to.

The compassion is harder though, perhaps the hardest of all. I’m still learning this, with the help of a very patient therapist. We have been so hard on ourselves for so long. We beat ourselves up for being fat, and now we beat ourselves up for not being perfect patients. Fuck that noise. It’s that age old situation….we wouldn’t say these things to a friend, so why do we say them to ourselves? I refuse to feel bad about needing to wolf down some dark chocolate when I am PMSing or sharing a bottle of wine with friends on a Friday night, because that is what I need in that moment.

And the enjoyment factor. Food should be something we can linger over, something we can get enjoyment from and make memories around. We have such a small amount of room for food that really, we should fill our stomachs with the very best of things, things that are real food with real nutrition and real taste that we can savor. I made enchiladas this weekend, stuffed full of chicken and black beans and homecooked goodness. Eating them feeds my soul and my body, and that’s what all of our eating should do.

(Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the exercise question!)

Do you think you can let go of the guilt? or do you think that’s what you’re always going to use?

L, M.

Starting out right February 18, 2009

Dear Melinda,

I started out yesterday right.  I had one cappuccino made with skim from my new coffee maker, which is the only thing that doesn’t suck about being unemployed. See, I got to use all these points I had from AMEX from my old company and got things like a TV, a Mac Book, and my best purchase, an espresso/coffee maker.  WHICH I LOVE.

Anyhow, cappuccino. And then a protein shake– and then a thought– hey I know, I’ll do that 5 day pouch test, you know, to get me going.  So then drank water. And ate some cottage cheese (already progressing to the soft phase) and some salsa. And then mashed potatoes with cheese, then another coffee, then pepperoni and cheese (okay, maybe I’ll just do no carbs) and then dinner.

By the time I got to dinner I had already had 1300 cals. My doctor says I should be at 1000. But for dinner I showed him.  I have artichokes and pesto and chese and grilled veggies with chicken and a nice bottle of Malbec. Shared with a friend.  And then one more cappuccino, and then a shared creme brulee.  And then I went home, ate a peanut bar.

Total cals? 2900.   Total cigarettes? A pack and some more.

This has got to end, right? I am the same weight for 8 months. It’s like I am trying to prove this weight.  I keep thinking that something happened in my youth right around this weight that has me hang out here. That has me be comfortable eating whatever i want. It’s the little therapist in me that wants to blame someone else.

See, I start out alright, and slide down hill……. but again, not too much guilt. Just observations.

HMMM……..

At this point I would make a list of all the things I am going to change. But not today. Today I am just going to track.

And it’s super cold here. I miss warm San Diego. And cheese fries. And bowling.

Talk to me about exercise. How do you move?

Kim