Welcome to my column. I have decided to share my experiences because I know I am not alone in them and I think together we can do better than we can alone. Obesity is at an alarming level in this country and I unfortunately had been in that category most of my life. Like Gandhi said “You must be the change you want to see in the world.” Don’t get me wrong - I know I am no Gandhi. (The hunger strike thing alone makes that pretty clear.) But clearly we as a nation are on the wrong track when it comes to our health and it is time we spend as much time taking care of our personal health as we do our personal finances.
Come back from time to time. Check out my progress. Learn some new health tips. Have a laugh with me, or at my expense. It’s all good. (I am particularly excited to share with you a story I like to call “Why there are no fat girls in yoga class.” So keep an eye out for that.)
******DISCLAMER****
Please remember… I am just a graphic designer trying to get healthier, not a doctor, so remember my advice is not medical. I am just sharing what I am going through and what has and hasn’t worked for me. Talk to your doctor about anything specific you are going through and let them help you through your weight loss journey. Also, I am not a writer, so please give me a break on the grammar and spelling corrections. Seriously.
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I struggle with being an all or nothing kind of girl. It is my nature that if I am going to do something, then I am going to do it all the way. A perfectionist. Type A personality. Whatever you want to call it. This is my default mode. And if not kept in check it can do more harm then good.
The problem is that when faced when the choice of doing something perfectly or not at all, not at all can be very tempting. In my opinion, all or nothing is no way to live. And it is not a realistic way to get healthy. Let’s talk about it in the context of food, since that is why we are here.
There have been times where I was almost manic about my diet. “No more white flour EVER!” (said in the style of Faye Dunnaway in “Mommie Dearest”.) I would go to bed uber early and wake up at the butt-crack of dawn to work out. Every Day. I would have just a mound of fresh spinach with some canned tuna and rice vinegar on it for lunch about 5 times a week. I actually enjoyed it the first couple of times, now I can’t think of it without gagging.
So this week marked a major victory for me. I am the smallest I have been in
my adult life. I looked at the number on the scale and was thrilled, but was
confused too. I didn't think I looked all that different. I didn't think I even
felt all that different.
See the problem is I have made slow, fairly steady progress over time. That
is what comes with making a lifestyle change and not just going on a diet. Since
the progress has been a little at a time I didn't really notice. There was no
moment where I thought, "Wow look at what I have done." When you take baby
steps, sometimes you don't see how far you have come until you stop and look
back at where you started.
So I stopped and took a look back. I started with the pictures that I never
look at. The ones that showed me as I was. The ones I always cropped in to the
face so that I would not have to see the rest of myself. WOW. Then I had that
moment.
I used to want to be that girl who does yoga. You know the type. She seems strong, confident and at peace with herself and the world around her. She prances into the gym, past those of us sweating our a***s off on the cardio machines looking like fat kids chasing an ice cream truck in New York in July — carrying her little mat and cork bricks. You see her through the windows of the yoga studio contorting her body in ungodly ways and her face seems to say "Oh, this is just how I sit."
Then the class switches poses and everyone is balancing their entire body weight on their left ear so they can better hear what the earth would say to them today, or something. The next time you look over they are in downward facing dog or child at rest or some crap like that, and your view is suddenly obscured by the line of men who just happen to need a drink from the water fountain located by the studio at that exact moment.
You hear the peaceful sound, almost whisper of "Namaste." And she glides out of the gym as silently as she entered. Hair still perfectly in place, and a single bead of sweat escapes her brow and trickles delicately down her still serene face. You could swear you hear her say "Wow, what a workout," as the gym door closes behind her.
You mop off the implement of your 45 minutes of torture, climb off the stairclimber and amble like Quasimodo towards the Nautilus equipment.
On October 7th I wrote a column about conquering emotional eating. I logically went step by step through how to move past bad times and bad feelings without covering them with food. Now, in retrospect, I realize that I might as well have looked fate in the eyes and said "bring it!"
But it had already been broughten.
A week later I ended a three year relationship with my then boyfriend. A week after that, I "celebrated" my 30th birthday. This was followed quickly by: a holiday season spent unexpectedly single, the re-homing of a beloved pet, a confusing re-entry into the dating world, and various other personal catastrophes that I won’t go into here.
In the midst of all of this, I just couldn’t bring myself to write. One thing I have always taken very seriously with this column is honesty and transparency. And quite frankly, I just didn’t want to talk about it. The last thing on my mind was what I was doing to my body. I didn’t care.
Then, on January 8th, I found out that my grandmother died.
Okay, so I know what you are thinking, a Reese’s is hardly punishment let alone any sort of penance. Bear with me. Reese’s are good. I enjoy them. Except when I don’t. Okay, put on your hip-waders, we’re going deep today.
We all have bad days. We all mess up. And some of us really beat ourselves up for that. The screw up could be food related or not. In the grand scheme of things it may be a big deal or not. But if you are like me, you have very little grace or forgiveness for yourself compared to what you have for others. When I mess up I get upset. And when I get upset, I put food on it. I don’t enjoy the food. I don’t think I even taste it. It’s a form of self-medication to distract from what I am feeling. I sabotage myself because at these times, on some level I feel like I don’t deserve to be successful. Then I feel even worse about myself and the cycle continues.
I made a bit of a breakthrough this week, I put down the Reese’s. While changing these behaviors is far from easy, it is simple. Try these steps next time you are tempted to reach for food for comfort.
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