Data

I’ve decided to weigh myself at the same time every day. I also just tossed my typically unrealistic weight loss goals out the window (WILL lose XX pounds a month, XX pounds by this date, for example)  and not put so much  pressure on myself about quick weight loss this time.

When I do make a point to weigh myself, I pay attention to what I’m putting in my mouth and to how I’m moving my body.  I’m aware of how my everyday actions impact the magnitude of the physical burden I constantly carry around. Too often in the past, ignoring what the scale reads will lead me to act like an ostrich sticking its head in the sand. I have a bad habit of weighing myself until things go catawampus with my resolve, plan—whatever it is, doesn’t matter—and then I start to “forget” that a person can’t eat a bag of chocolate peanut butter cups every couple of days and start skipping visits to the gym without their fitness level suffering or their clothes not fitting, size after size, until the light goes on and I realize just how far (very far) I’ve slipped.

(And trying to exercise off all of those bad choices doesn’t work either, no matter how much you tell yourself that—you can’t consistently out-train a bad diet.)

It may sound bizarre, but it’s true.  When it comes to weight and body image, some of us are saddled with seriously skewed perception issues. Part of the reason I am at a very unhealthy weight is that I am so good at disconnecting myself from the world I NEED to see when it intimidates or makes me anxious (like when I’m regaining weight by binge-eating).  The problem is not so much with the number itself—it really is just a measurement of mass—but with the values and degree of self-worth I’ve placed on that number.  I need to learn to treat weight like the quantitative datum it is, and not the qualitative datum I’ve internalized it should be. I need to learn to let one detail not become the total story of my personal ecosystem, inside and out.

Found these articles online which help reinforce my confidence that I’m making the right decision: http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/minding-the-body/201312/daily-weighing-may-help-manage-your-weight  and http://www.medicinenet.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=55489. Of course, you can find something online to support any position, but I think these are well-reasoned and helpful.

(And this is all personal and rudimentary, not generalizable and concrete.  What’s good for me is good for me, I reserve the right to change my mind about its efficacy at any time;-)

The truth is—if I want to be healthy inside and outside—I must learn to face facts and not hide.  I must learn to stop playing games with the numbers that describe aspects of my health. And the number on the scale— I want to approach that as the information it is, not as a moral judgment about me and my body.

The scale said 303 this morning. Not the highest weight I’ve ever been, and not the lowest. Certainly not an indicator of my worth.

That is all.

Fresh Start

It’s kind of funny—in my first post I prattled on about girding myself for war and preparing for the big fight that getting healthy entails. I forgot that when my mind is really made up and I’ve committed to a course of action, and taken the necessary preparatory steps (like stocking the fridge with healthy food), the beginning of the lifestyle change process is kind of easy—as long as I’m being reasonable and not overzealous from the get-go. It’s after the newness and initial resolve fades that the struggle becomes more of an issue. Thinking I should just enjoy this and ride the momentum as long as I can.

One of the few good things about having a lot of weight to lose is that diet can be pretty forgiving at first. If you focus on nutritional food quality and macronutrient balance and on not eating TOO much, you’re going to lose some weight—maybe not at a rocket clip, but that’s not desirable either.

The orientation at the health club went well yesterday.  I really liked the fitness manager and the club is very nice.  Now I have to wait for the trainer (Justin) to give me a call and set up some sessions.  I’ve already decided that if I like working with him I am going to keep the training going for as long as I can.

Found out my old trainer has set up his own facility and that his wife does some work for this club.  The fitness manager (Liz) asked me if I’d rather work with him instead of the club’s trainers.  I said no, even though he was a great trainer in a lot of ways.

Reasons why: 

1)       I felt abandoned when he left my previous gym (four years ago this week, in fact) to start his own facility (which didn’t work out at the time). It’s unreasonable to feel that way, but I had been working with him for 11 months and had just begun to experience a recurrence of the binging issues I’d struggled with for so long. He had promised to help me and then POOF!  Gone.  It happened really suddenly and there was no transition between trainers, and the new trainer couldn’t work with me at the same time I had gotten used to (Saturdays at 10). It sort of exploded my routine at a time I needed it the most. It made me feel anxious, unsupported.  I seized any excuse I could find to justify getting off track.

The next trainer was great—but he was right out of college and had no clue how to deal with someone like me, whose emotional issues were (are)such a  big part of my weight problem.  And in any event, he only lasted there a couple of months before leaving, too. At which point I decided going to therapy was what I needed, after all—since the binging problem wouldn’t go away and was just getting worse and I was at a complete loss on what to do about it. So I started seeing my current personal therapist, JoAnne, who specializes in treating people with eating disorders. That was the beginning of a long process of healing from the inside out, which is still ongoing.

2)      I just plain got too attached to him, and I treated him like the therapist I desperately needed. He wasn’t trained to perform that kind of function, though he tried. But I definitely know I don’t want that dynamic again. It was very unhealthy for me and exacerbated other mental health issues I have, particularly with men. (At the same time this was going on, I had a work friend bail on our friendship because his wife thought we were having an emotional affair.  It was not a good winter.)

 

 Wow.  So much has happened since then.  I hope this time I'm ready for the long haul, and if not, that I now have friends and other people to help me get through the really rough spots.

And I hope my next trainer-trainee relationship is a long, healthy and productive one.

Just Do Something

I am sitting here wondering where to start. 

(Reminder to self: everything you write does not have to aim for the meaningful or profound. You're not composing Hamlet. This is a health/weight loss journal. Just write what you are doing. At this stage, doing anything--no matter how feeble--is better than not doing anything at all).

Went to the gym this morning and walked for 30 minutes on the treadmill after a 10 minute warm-up on the recumbent bike. The older I get, the more powerful the need to get everything loosened up before attempting any exercise.  I used to hate warming up--seemed like a total waste of time.  Now, my tissues, sinews and joints thank me for it.

This makes the third consecutive week I’ve set foot in my gym—progress.

Have an appointment this afternoon with the fitness manager at a local health club (different gym, across town) for a fitness program prescribed by one of my therapists through a local hospital program.  It includes weekly training sessions and an exercise plan, which I’m really looking forward to utilizing.  Have been feeling lost when I look at the machines this time back. I’ve forgotten how to plan workouts, and what I used to be able to do and what I am able to do now are very different things anyway.  Last thing I need is to push too hard or get hurt. At the same time, taking things slowly is so hard when you’ve set your mind to something and are ready to go blue blazes at it.

Starting over sucks. Four years ago this week I could walk 3 miles in under 45 minutes, and row 1000 meters in less than 5 minutes (in the middle of a workout). I could do an hour of Zumba followed by an hour of yoga.  I could bench press 100 pounds and leg press 460 lbs. I worked out hard with a trainer once a week, walked a 5 mile trail once a week, and was doing something active, mostly at the gym,  6 days a week.  Physically, I felt fantastic, like a total bad-ass, and felt that nothing could stop me. Mentally, I was a wreck, and had stated binging again, and was terrified of going back to the physical space I'd occupied before. 

Which I did. So much anguish over that, but I think I've forgiven myself and am able to move on, or that is, start from scratch again. If I hadn't let go of some of that shame, I never would have been able to darken my gym's door again.

Still eating more than I should but not binging. Really upped my vegetable intake last week. Made my meal plan over the weekend and cooked roasted chicken for lunch salads—and then went out to lunch with a friend instead (had salad and flatbread pizza, so it could have been worse).  At least I have lunch in the work fridge for tomorrow, and maintaining relationships is an important area of health growth for me too (it wasn’t spur of the moment—she asked me Friday afternoon and I just forgot that I had promised).  London broil is marinating in the fridge to grill for dinner, with sweet potato and steamed mixed vegetables—good for several meals. 

Need to get more sleep.

That's all for now.

Leaving the Dark Side of the Road

At root, this blog is the record of a prison break, with the hope of Zihuatanejo at the end. 

I am writing this as a personal record of my continuing efforts to live a healthy life. And although metaphorically I see this process as a journey, I know it will exhibit some of the characteristics of a war, too. 

It’s a paradox.  To heal, I have to be willing to fight—against the past, against the shadows in my head, against the habits I developed over the years to protect myself from pain, against the elements in this world that do not respect my boundaries, needs, or interests. I will need to fight an urge to withdraw from anybody and everything when situations make me want to hide. But I also want to learn to forgive myself for mistakes past, present, and future. I want to learn how to love. I know there will be armed skirmishes along this path that will require courage and the willingness to fight for good, as well as self-compassion when I lose a battle and falter. But for the first time in a long time, I am committing to go forth and live a full life, whatever that comes to mean, and whatever it takes. Walk, wander or fight--I'm ready to move on.

I consider “health" a gestalt concept:  it has mental, physical, spiritual, social, and financial components. Today, I feel better in some aspects than in others, but in none have I achieved a level of optimal health.  My goal is to become a healthy, “whole,” balanced person.  In pursuit of that goal, I’ve needed to enlist help from people who are qualified and willing to give it. I know now I can’t do this alone, and from this "weakness," I have discovered strength in the support of others. I wouldn’t be writing this without the help of some wonderful people, for whom I am very grateful. Writing is another way to reach out into the world and seek connection: for someone who loves words, it seems like a logical next step.

After three+ years of individual and group therapy, my most pressing challenge is achieving physical health. I am a 41-year old woman who is unfit and significantly overweight. I have been both much heavier and much lighter than I am now. I have lost large amounts of weight before, only to regain it all (and more) when problems have overwhelmed my capacity to deal with pain, discomfort, anxiety, and fear. There have been times when I’ve been in horrible shape, and there have been times when I’ve been in great shape, and there have been long swaths of time spent in between, up and down, over and over. I've not yet been able to get the balance right. I also have issues with binge-eating and self-harming, which complicate things. Therefore, physical health--coupled with continuing therapy for improving my mental health--is a logical place to start towards, as well.

So. This is me at the beginning of a commitment “to suffer a sea change into something rich and strange,” through which I hope to become the full-fledged citizen of a brave new world. I want to breach the walls I have built between myself and that world. The space within those walls has served me as a cell--an asylum--providing sanctuary but also keeping me isolated, alone with my fears, doubts, hopes, dreams. Imprisoned. But now I crave fresh air, sunlight, experiences, challenges, life, CHANGE. I want to breathe in the world and travel through it with my own whole self, undaunted, unashamed. Time to tunnel out, get off the island, re-enter the general population. Time to move on.

This is why I'm here, and that is where I'm going.