Is the Honeymoon Over?

Okay, so people have been wondering why I’ve not blogged in a while.  Of course the first answer is that I have not had much time to give to this task. Another answer, equally valid, is that I have not made as many self-discoveries as I did when I began this process. Another, more subtle, answer is that the honeymoon is over.

Time is not my enemy in this process. Actually it is my friend. I have all the time that God gives me on this planet to accomplish the task of living my life. It now includes more activity and eating less of some things and more of others: nonetheless, I truly have all the time I need.

Some of you know how erratic my schedule is. Because I do a variety of jobs at the Community College, my time is divided into the semester workload as well as the busy periods where I am on-call to help out. Since I am a creature of habit, any fluctuation in my schedule impacts everything in my life, and certain areas are the first to feel the impact. Some areas are neglected because I know they will weather the storm. For example, I might not clean house or write my blog. Other areas are not as developed and buckle under the pressure – this is where my food struggles and workout management show their weaknesses. I’ve noticed that some of the little snacky habits such as after-dinner-eating, or before dinner eating, or give-me-an-excuse-to-eat eating have crept back in. I’ve also noticed that I’m not getting as many workouts in or they’re not as intense. The impact of these means slower downward motion on the scale.

In the beginning, I was so enthusiastic about my new found strength and motivation. I analyzed what I was doing and how it made a difference in many facets of my life. Yet, at some point in this journey, I learned that I am the same person I’ve always been. I have changed how I spend my time or what I eat, but I’m still the same person (warts and all). Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, Kansas was there all along; I only needed to see it for myself. So my bursts of brilliance when I discovered that I can accomplish these weight-loss and fitness goals are more like peeling off the layers of who I am. Some of that person was hidden in layers of fat and self-loathing – that is NOT who I am, nor is it who I want to be. The downside to this is that I am and always have been someone who struggles staying committed.

I find new interests and work them hard for a few months, but then I lose interest in them. I have had 5 different careers! I have had numerous hobbies. I go into these full-force with guns a-blazin’ and then burn out. Something becomes difficult or I simply think the grass is greener, and I give up. The honeymoon is over. I’m afraid that I’m going through this right now with my fitness plan. I have reached the goal where I can buy clothes in a regular size (no matter that it’s still L or XL). I can exercise effectively (no matter that my push-ups are still on my knees). Things have not become routine enough for me to do them on auto-pilot. I have some injuries and want to use them as an excuse to stop exercising. I still want to feed my weary soul with food that doesn’t satisfy. See – I’m still the same person.

I need to remind myself that this is a journey. I have all the time I need to accomplish this. The struggles are good because they make me think and provide checks and balances. Eating right and exercise are a part of who I am – confident and in control. Saying ”no” to an unhealthy habit is not depriving myself, it’s empowering myself to be stronger.

Ah, gentle readers, some of this is really hard. Getting out of the house to go to a workout class is hard. Facing my eating demons head on is hard to do over, and over, and over again. Knowing that the workouts will get more intense and it takes more effort to burn the fat is hard. Keeping this up forever is hard. However, some of this is easy. Working with Patrick is easy. Receiving encouraging compliments is easy. Giving my all in a workout is easy. Eating good food is easy. Taking this all one hour or minute at a time is easy. Don’t give up – it might seem easy at the time, but it’s easier to keep going than to get going once you’ve stopped.

Balance

My scale must be broken! Its ability to gauge weight loss must be impaired because it has slowed down. Okay- I know the problem doesn’t lie with the scale-the problem is with my insistence on using the scale for my sole measurement of success.

I knew this day would come; I’ll leave it to the scientists to explain the physics behind this, but I know that the weight loss I can achieve when I have 100# to lose is greater week by week than now when I have 45# left. Nevertheless, it’s difficult to stay positive and motivated when my weight loss slows down. Of course, since much of my eating is tied to my emotions, I am drawn to eating to pacify myself. I don’t have a lot of quick junk in the house to eat. I used to slather ¼- ½  C of peanut butter on buttered bread and down a Diet Coke. Then I’d add a few cookies- the big Costco kind. I don’t know how many calories that is, but I’d venture it’s more than the 300 that I try to keep my meals at and certainly more than I need for a snack. So what does a needy girl do? First I popped some popcorn. Then I took some grated mozzarella cheese, put it on a plate, and microwaved it for 45 sec. It melts into a gooey, chewy substance. I must confess – it was good! But it wasn’t what I really needed.

I needed to look at my progress as a whole. I’ve taken off 80 pounds! I’ve changed not only my habits but my outlook about a healthy lifestyle. A co-worker recently asked me if I felt different. I know what she was getting at; she wanted me to describe improved energy and general health- she is overweight and suffers from poor health and fatigue. I have been blessed with good health, so she seemed disappointed when I said that the biggest difference I feel is inside. I fit better- physically and metaphorically. I relate to others on more levels. I am treating myself very well by committing to daily activity and thoughtfully planned meals. There is little to tap into my insecurities now as I too can share my experiences in exercise and training, and I can sympathize with those who struggle with their weight. I used to allow my weight to give me an excuse to separate myself from others. I would participate, and I assumed people were judging me because of my weight. I know what it is to face discrimination especially when someone who has never struggled with obesity assumes that weight loss of gain is a matter of willpower, yet I’d stay off to the side so people couldn’t get to know me better.

The confidence that I’ve gained has allowed me to experience a better life. So, when I get on the scale and it hasn’t budged, I can’t – I won’t go back to those insecure actions that prove I’ve let a number defeat me or define how I feel for the day. That number will decrease. It might take longer, but it will happen; however, it won’t happen if I crumble emotionally and focus on only one aspect of my weight loss journey.

There is a balance to all this. When one side of that balance, weight or clothes size, decreases, the other side increases. I have increased my health to the extent I no longer have to face the doctor with fear or trepidation. I have increased my fitness ability. I never thought I’d be considering a triathlon or doing jumping jacks. I’m saying things like, “I can try that.” What a powerful statement! If I could give one piece of advice, it would be to tell yourself that you can TRY anything. I have increased my ability to say I CAN.

The scale doesn’t measure that.

Dancing with The Trainer

 One of the reality shows that has become a phenomenon is Dancing With the Stars. Versions of it are made worldwide in 47 different countries. I guess what I like about it is that I can see these celebrities grow and learn as they work with a pro.

The athletes and entertainers seem to have an advantage over the reality stars or newscasters. Those reality stars have a tough go of it. They have become “stars” by having little to no talent or direction, and they often seem confused when faced with the challenge of the task. When I started my journey, it was as a reality star. I felt I could do this but had no idea about the effort it would take. I didn’t want to face the fact that I had little to no skill and that I had let my defenses trick me into believing I was okay with the physical and mental pain I was living with.

As my journey has progressed, I can relate to the entertainer. I know what it is like to put on a show. I work real hard and things come together. Sometimes I have a tantrum because not everyone sees my brilliance or I don’t see it. I had a tantrum last week. I received lots of compliments about how I looked, so I really felt like I was doing a great job; like a star, my ego was stroked. Then I went to the store to look for clothes. I know better than this, but I let the size on the jacket I was eyeing dictate my worth. And it seemed as if I hadn’t accomplished anything. I also realized that I’m tired, and I still have a long way to go. I felt like giving up, but the show must go on. One thing the entertainers know is that they are going to be tired. They also know how to take direction and criticism (whether it comes from a trainer or themselves) Like a star, I know that this show still needs more work.

It seems obvious that the athletes have an edge on this show. They know what it takes to train to achieve a goal, and they understand the relationship they have with the coach. The hardest part for them is often the showmanship, but that’s where their coach comes in. The big thing that they know that I am coming to realize is that this journey is never ending. Each week there’s a “game” to play. Each week, they get ready for the next game. Their work is not done on Tuesday after the show. They are back working that very night. They look to their coach for guidance but they also know that they have work to do.

 In a way, I have a new respect for that relationship. I can, of course, relate to someone like Kirstie Alley. She too is a big girl who wants to succeed and will use humor to keep going. Her partner is Maks, who has been pinned as a hard and harsh trainer. He doesn’t mince words and sometimes comes off as unfeeling. Many a tear and tantrum have occurred under his tutelage. Patrick is more like Tony: a nice guy who knows his stuff. Sometimes I feel sorry that Tony has not gone far with his partners. He gets the old ones or the pretty ones, but he doesn’t get the Olympians or the sharp entertainers. This season, Tony has a great partner, and I hope to see them week after week.

Working with Patrick has helped me understand the relationship these stars have with their pro. Here’s someone who wants me to do well. He will modify my workouts to accommodate my issues, but will push me harder than I thought I’d ever go and certainly harder than I would do on my own. Like the stars, I have my tantrums, but I also have my moments of great personal gain. When I get on the scale week after week, and the numbers keep going down, it’s like getting a 10 from Len. When they go up, it’s like when Carrie Ann gives that little smile with the tilt of the head to deliver the bad news. When I accomplish a new task – one that I never thought I’d do, it’s like when Bruno gets out of his seat with his hands flailing and spewing metaphors. It’s a great moment.

Eating the Frog

Some theorists say that procrastination is a way to protect ourselves.  We protect ourselves from things that might be uncomfortable or find us vulnerable.

My daughters have recently described productive procrastination. They don’t do what they are supposed to do, but they do something useful instead. The logic here is that they are not totally wasting time; they’re just not doing what they really need to be working on at the moment.

Here’s some “food for thought:” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0W7GB5Fh2XM it’s a fun, short video about procrastination.

The part that rings true for me in this video is the part about how there is nothing so fatiguing as an undone task.

I know that if I don’t exercise first thing in the morning, and I don’t  have it scheduled into the day, it might not get done. I will find other things to do. It’s fairly easy to get at this first thing in the summer when the sun is up by 5Am and it’s warm. It gets harder, physically and emotionally, to do this in the winter when it’s cold and dark. I don’t want to get on my bike in the dark. I know there are a number of flashing, strobing, and blinding lights I can attach to my bike or myself that will make me able to see and be seen, but I’m not a fan of, what my daughter calls, circus techniques. As for running or walking, this isn’t so bad because I’m not going so fast and I go against traffic. My reflective gear is helpful. The worst part is when drivers are pulling out of their driveways.

 The cold weather has other considerations. I’m learning about layering my clothing. I don’t want to wear things that are heavy or things that will flop around, and because I check my watch and need to push buttons, my cozy mittens aren’t the best choice. The worst part is having a runny nose. I have carried tissues with me, but there isn’t a good place to put them in my non-floppy, no pocket, reflective, yet breathable gear. I used to think that the globs I saw on the street were spit – no, they’re snot. I’ve noticed a number of nose-blowing techniques. I use a blow-pinch-throw method that usually works.

I’ve seen runners throughout the winter months and thought they were out of their minds. I guess I’ll be joining the crazies this winter. I’ll just eat the frog and get my exercise in.

Did You Do Something Different with Your Hair?

So, it’s been around 3 months since I started training with Patrick and people want to know what it’s like and what progress I’ve made.

Let’s start with a comparison chart:

Before Patrick	After Patrick
I ate balanced food and was developing better portion control.	I eat balanced food and am much better at portion control, but I don’t eat starchy foods after lunch.
I ate pizza and pasta and potatoes	I still eat them but not at dinner, and I don’t tell Patrick about the pizza unless I want to see that vein in his head start to throb.
I was beginning my exercise program and was devoted to doing “something” two times a week	I exercise daily. The big difference is that I ask myself, “When can I exercise and what do I swap out to do it?” If it’s family time or work time, I don’t do it. If it’s TV time, I do.
I watched a lot of TV	I’m not watching much TV, but my fall shows haven’t yet started. Thank God for the DVR
I talked about books, kids, and the weather.	I talk about books, kids, the weather and exercise. I find so many more people that I can have a conversation with and we quickly develop a bond. Since what I read might not appeal to others and my parenting experience might differ from others’, it’s much easier to connect about fitness.
I ate constantly out of restlessness or boredom.	I can wait to eat if I need to. This one’s a biggie and it’s taken some time to get here. I don’t exactly know what made the change happen. I think it has partly to do with being very organized with my menu. It also has to do with this being a dual effort between Jonathan and me. I still get bored and restless and get tempted to snack. Sometimes I do; most times I ask myself when my next meal is and usually, I can wait.
I snacked after dinner	I rarely eat after dinner. This will be more challenging when I’m watching TV at night. Not sure what my plan will be. Now I go into a different room and read or go up to bed. I’m up for suggestions.

What are my physical changes? Well, of course I’ve lost weight. I’m approaching my 75# mark and I’m very excited about it. I’m wearing the clothes that I put aside when I was gaining weight, but those are getting loose, so I’ll need to get new clothes before too long. I’m still in plus sizes and, any of you ample women who like to shop at thrift stores for bargains will agree with me when I say that my choices at thrift stores are limited and not very appealing. I’ll look there, but I don’t have hope for much. Once I get into “normal sizes” like 12-14, I can most likely find some wearable clothes for cheap. I’ll need to take my oldest daughter, Leona, with me to shop because I have no idea how a think person should dress. I’ve been covering up this big body for so long; I’m not sure what I should wear. Just because I CAN wear it, doesn’t mean I SHOULD.

 Because I’m still in plus sizes, not everyone has noticed my weight loss. Lots of people ask if I’ve done something with my hair. One person insisted that I must have colored my hair. Those of you, who know me personally, know how odd that comment is. I have very short-grey hair. There’s not much I can do differently. But they notice a change.

I fit into theater and I imagine airline seats better. My hips don’t bump the armrests as I get in and out.

My knee and foot pain is lessening.

I can do things like get up and down from the floor easier. I still feel ungainly, but I’m no longer worried that I’ll get stuck midway.

There’s less wobble in my upper arms. It’s still there, but I no longer worry that the rebound will slap me in the head.

What do I do to work out? Well, here’s my current plan and it will change when my job responsibilities change (which happens at each semester and mid-way between each semester and during breaks).

Sunday

: AM Run or Bike ride plus I work out at church. After services, April and Patrick come and lead an exercise class.

Monday: Patrick comes to train

Tuesday: Swim and abdominal class at the Rec Center

Wednesday: It’s a crazy day with me leaving the house at 7 am and I’m not home until 9 PM. I walk the dogs for 30 minutes and I wear a pedometer and get in 10,000 steps.

Thursday: I Bike or Run in the morning and sometimes I swing by the rec center for elliptical, but I think I’ll change that to a swim.

Friday: I go to a circuit training class followed by a Vinyasa Yoga class. In the evening, Jonathan and I have begun a class called “fit camp” it’s a way for us to share a fitness experience with some common goals.

Saturday: Patrick comes at 6AM!!! Rise and shine. I also try to do something active during the day (usually it’s cleaning).

So, what's changed? I have.

Devil on One Shoulder and Angel on Another

The image of a devil on one shoulder and angel on the other is a well-worn one but one I can relate to. Patrick wants to be that angel telling me what I should choose when I’m tempted to listen to the temptations skillfully presented by the one perched on my other shoulder. The truth is I often feel like a pawn played with by God and Satan. In the book of Job, God brags about how Job is a wonderful example of humanity and Satan says, “Of course he is – you’ve provided him with everything. How will he measure up when you take things away from him?”

Here’s how I picture the conversation between God and Satan when it comes to me and my fitness journey.

Satan: I have Karin exactly where I want her: pacified by actions that have no meaning and glued to the TV.

God: I know. She’s sad and lonely and choosing to give up. I love her too much to let her stay this way. I have too many plans that involve her for her to treat herself this way. I know! I’ll have Leona help her to use a fitness and food tracking app.

Satan: How’s that working for you?

God: Not too well. She’s happy for Leona’s progress, but not interested enough to use it for herself. I’m going to have to hit closer to home. I’ll have Jonathan jump on the bandwagon. 

Satan: Hee, hee, hee, that’s a fail if ever I saw one. Now Karin is angry at Jonathan for changing. I might just be able to keep Karin complacent and break up her marriage.

God: Come on, Karin. Can’t you see what’s happening around you? Fight!

Satan: Curses! She’s getting out of her chair, choosing to exercise, and using the app to track her eating. I think giving her a hand problem that needs surgery will slow her down.

God: Hah! No it hasn’t she’s a determined woman and she’s found ways to modify her workout. I’m going to reward her by giving her a trainer for free.

Satan: Drat! I can’t seem to get a hold of her, especially since she decided to hire the trainer. I’ll have to try another thing. I’ll make her tear off her toenail the day of a 5K race. If that doesn’t work, I’ll give her a hamstring injury.

God: I think you’re up for a fight, my friend. She’s not stopping no matter what you throw at her. She has too much of a support group, and she’s doing enough different activities that she has ways to stay active even when things hurt.

Satan: I’m not giving up

God: Neither is she.

Plusses and Minuses of the Bike Path

We are truly blessed in this area to have miles of bike trails that extend from Wisconsin down along the Fox River and Jonathan and I have lived along the Fox River for our entire married life, but you know how it is. Sometimes you don’t explore the beauty in your own back yard.

Well, I’ve decided to change that and spend time riding the path on my bike, and I’ve noticed some plusses and minuses. .

Plusses Shade Deer sightings Foliage Smooth – paved trails The sound of birds The glints of sunlight on the river A charming coffee shop The sense of community when I start to recognize people. Friendly greetings or smiles.

Minuses Grumps – this includes the lady who sports a jaunty scarf, who rides behind the friendly man, and scowls. People who run or bike in groups and don’t move over Bikers with flashing lights – we see you! Dogs without leashes People talking on their cell phones – can’t you disconnect for just a few minutes?

Falling off the Wagon

If I were a dog, I would eat when my owner fed me. I’d beg for food in the hopes of getting a treat, and I would work my best to manipulate the system.  I would be at the mercy of my human or circumstances beyond my control. Since I am a human, I have been empowered with free will. As an adult, I should be able to logically create meal plans and eat what I’ve prepared. I should be able to portion my food, and I should be able to control when, where, and what I eat. It’s only logical, right?

So far in this journey, I have modified a lot of my eating. I no longer have carbs after noon and I’m surviving just fine. I have a protein with each meal and snack and this keeps me from being hungry. If I do get hungry, I remember that my meal will come eventually and I don’t have to eat right away.  I keep a container of chopped, peeled, or sliced vegetables in the refrigerator so that I can easily grab a portion when I need some veggies. I use a scale to weigh portions and pack up leftovers right away so I’m not tempted to help myself to seconds. When my meals are planned I don’t feel deprived because I make a variety of foods, and even in Patrick doesn’t like that I eat Walnuts and Dried Cherries for a snack, I choose to do this and still get the results I want. I AM in CONTROL.

Well – mostly. The above plan is quite logical. Emotions are not logical, and I am an emotional overeater. Every once in a while I just lose control. This last weekend (Labor Day) I was totally alone in the house. The girls are back at their respective colleges, and Jonathan took the weekend to be with friends. I held it together fairly well. I had my menus all planned and plenty of activities to keep me distracted. Logically, there was no reason for me to have any uncontrolled eating.

Let me take a side-trip to filling emotional holes. Here’s what it’s like: you have an emptiness that can’t be filled. Maybe you’re lonely, maybe you’re hurting. Perhaps you don’t want to feel something, perhaps you do. It’s illogical, but the emotional hole needs to be filled. Of course there are healthy ways to deal with this – distraction (exercise, cleaning, gardening, and hobbies) and confrontation (prayer, logic, and talk-therapy) are some of the ways that I’ve found useful. Then there are the unhealthy ways, and for me – right now- that’s eating food that is not on the plan and, trust me, the food is rarely fresh fruit or vegetables.

Saturday night I was feeling lonely, abandoned, de-valued, and purposeless. I wanted to fill the hole. I started with chocolate. I have some in the house. The theory is that I can have one piece of dark chocolate (around 50 calories) as a treat each day if I want it. Having this option helps me to avoid feeling deprived, and I don’t eat this every day, but every now and then I want some. I had 8 pieces. I didn’t stop there. I spread some Laughing Cow Cheese on toasted bread . You might be thinking, gee – if it were me, I’d have ordered a pizza or consumed a container of ice cream. I’ve done that in the past, but, A. We don’t have too much junk food in the house anymore, and B. I didn’t want to fall that far off the wagon. That’s how I know I’m making some real changes.

My fall could really have been a lot worse, but I’m managing my demons a lot better. I’ve certainly come to a different stage of my journey when last year I would have eaten a whole bag of chocolate or slathered ½ a jar of peanut butter onto 3 or 4 sandwiches. This time I consumed around 800 calories (I’d already burned 600 in my exercise that day). I stopped myself and shifted gears.

My emotions will always be there. My demons will always torment me, and I will sometimes loose the battle, but I’m winning the war. I’m winning more battles than I’m losing, and my measurements, my weight, my diminishing pain, and my increased sense of self-worth are not only the evidence of these wins, but some of my weapons.

Okay, so I fell off the wagon. It’s only a big deal if I stay off.

Watch that watch

I’m a big fan of analog watches. These are those that are adorned with such human characteristics as to have faces and hands. At a glance, I can put time in perspective: how much time I have until the next task or how much time has passed. No need to calculate anything. It’s right there for me. I don a supercilious air when I meet someone who can’t read this kind of clock (or write in cursive).

So, why might I want a digital clock, and why do I have so many of them? It started with a timer. I needed a timer to remind me to wrap up for the day at work and I found the perfect one: a Casio with both an analog face and a timer. I’d still have one of these if I could get a wristband for it. My next one was a green Timex. This has come in handy when I needed to know how long a task took. For example, if I wanted to walk for 30 minutes, I could set the watch to count up and spend just the right amount of time on the task.

 As my fitness quest grew, so did my need for more digital technology. I needed a heart rate monitor. As I write this, I have two with a third on the way. I first got one with a chest strap that would give me a continuous heart rate reading and could interface with machines at the gym. The next one I won (it’s pink) and has timers. I really like it, but Patrick tells me that I need not only a continuous read and a chest-strap, but I need to monitor my calories burned. This one is on order.

When Jonathan started training for serious running, he got a watch that does laps, intervals, and a few more nifty things. Leona introduced me to a running program where one of those watches would come in handy. Also, when I looked into building up my swim endurance, I could see the benefit in knowing how long each lap lasts, so I got another watch. This one is waterproof.

As you might imagine, setting these contraptions is tricky. I’m not looking forward to when we “fall back.” A swift second hand, you glide easily past the arms that are so secure.

Random thoughts about the olympics

I am not an Olympian. I haven’t the drive, determination, or talent to do anything to the extreme that Olympians do. I strive for excellence as it is reflected in my connection with people and my work, but I have never immersed myself in one activity so fully that I could be considered an Olympian. I do, however, enjoy watching the Olympics. This year has been different, and it has nothing to do with my new sporty lifestyle.  I didn’t so much watch them, but I listened to those who have been watching the Olympics, and I have a few thoughts.

1.       Professional Athletes.

a.       I remember during the cold war when we Americans scorned the Communists for creating full-time training centers for their elite athletes. We were under the impression, perhaps unjustly so, that the governments of those eastern block countries housed, fed and educated those magnificent, and talented people and we considered them “Professional Athletes.” We held ourselves up to a higher standard -or so we thought- by limiting an athlete’s income to earned endorsements and danced our superiority salsa because we competed – and won- without “Professional Athletes.”  Why does the current medal count not surprise me?

2.       Doping

a.       Again, back in the cold war, we looked at East German women swimmers. It was hard to distinguish them from the men. We, of course, accused them of doping. A Chinese woman swimmer was making better scores than the men in the same event. Doping? Usain Bolt is the fastest man alive. Prior to the games, he felt ill. Doping? Michael Phelps told the media that he goofed off this year and barely trained. I hoped other swimmers might have a chance. He won race after race. Doping? The current athletes are bigger, stronger, and faster. Are they doing this without any chemical help?

3.       #2

a.       If an athlete comes home with a medal, any medal, in the OLYMPIC GAMES, why does the second place athlete act as if he or she has failed? #2 IN THE WORLD is no small feat! Of course I understand the desire for gold, but I’m also sure that #2 has come in #1 many times. Yes, people don’t remember #2, but #2 will never forget being an OLYMPIAN.

4.              Questions:

a.       Why do the medal winners bite their medals? Don’t they know there’s only $5.oo worth of metal in one?

b.      What do the squiggly shapes in the logo mean?

c.       Was there some explanation of the mascots and I missed them? Over the years they look less and less like mascots and more and more like under-animated blobs.

d.      Did anyone think USA would not medal in Basketball? Now –that would be an upset.

5.       Gymnastics

a.       It all just goes to show you that you’re only as good as your last performance.

6.      What I didn’t’ see  but wanted to

a.       Fencing, Archery, shooting, judo, diving, horsey stuff.

7.        What I did see, but didn’t want to

a.       Qualifying heats, swimmers’ butt cracks, beach volleyball,

Confessions of a Fat Lady

This post is for those of you who know what it’s like to carry a lot of extra weight and to those who have no clue.

What’s it like? When I shop for clothes, I kind of like that there might only be 6 racks in the store that have clothes that fit me. Seriously – I don’t know how “regular sized” women select from all their choices. I have to remember that it might look good on the hanger, but add a large belly and you look pregnant. I think my grey hair prevents that question from coming up anymore, but I really didn’t like being asked, “When are you due?” when I wasn’t pregnant. I also steer away from belts for fear of my body being mistaken for the equator.  Some things look fine on a plus-sized woman, others, no matter how you stretch it, do not. Leggings and swimsuits come to mind. As long as my butt is covered by a top, a skirt, or a dress, I don’t object too much to leggings, but they are not pants! As far as swimsuits are concerned, who are we kidding when we add a skirt? Maybe you have the body type with a large belly and skinny legs, but I don’t; I’ve always been hippy. Those skirts only flop foolishly around in the water and drip that much more when we come out.

What’s it like? When I enter a restaurant, the hostess asks if we’d like a booth or a table. Some of the booths are too tight for me to get in and out of comfortably, but I usually defer to my pride which has me respond, “It doesn’t matter.” When I sit around a table at a meeting, I usually try to pick the seat on an end where people don’t have to get around me. Many times they can’t. Some chairs just aren’t large enough: school desks come to mind. I’ve bruised my thighs getting into theater seats. There’s a local theater whose armrests rise like airplane seats. Some like this because they can snuggle with their sweetie during the movie. I like this because I can sit comfortably with my sweetie. The worst experience is airline seats. When I walk down the aisle, I imagine everyone wishing I’m not their seat mate. Once I get in the seat, I move the buckle of the seatbelt to the largest setting and hope I can get it around my girth. The arm rest bounces on my hip as it really doesn’t go all the way down, as does the tray table. I can mush my fat around it so that it cuts into me, but often, I just hold my drink in my hand. I like it best when there’s someone I know next to me, and then I don’t have to pretend I don’t exist. Last year I had a peculiar experience. I got settled into my seat by the window and realized that a huge man was going to be my seat mate. I was somehow comforted that he would, at least struggle with the same issues. He got settled, we nodded to each other, and we spent the rest of the trip touching, but not talking. I’m not a chatty person on a plane. I prefer to read and watch the miles go by, but this was weird.

What’s it like? I remember an episode of Oprah from the ‘80s when I watched the show. It was about being overweight and some woman made the comment that fat people are smelly and dirty because they can’t get in and out of the tub. Oprah responded by asking the woman if she had ever heard of a shower? A few years ago, some students in one of my classes were talking about an internet search where they found a product that was designed to clean fat rolls. You know how some wrinkly dogs need special treatment because they get gamey in those folds of skin? I guess there’s a product for we fat folks too. I just make sure I take care of that kind of thing in the shower. I use the handicapped stall in public restrooms for two reasons: there’s enough room for me to move around, and I the seat is up higher so that I don’t have to strain my knees getting up and down.

Those are my confessions: Do you have any?

Don't Judge a Personal Trainer by his Smile

What’s it like having a personal trainer? It’s not like having a housecleaner or getting my nails done. In those relationships, they provide a service, and they see or hear about the things I might hide to the rest of the world, but it’s different. I think, at first, I thought it would be like that. I thought he’d come, we’d work out, we’d dish a little, we’d set goals and move on. I knew from day one it would be different.

I have several levels of workouts. The first one is where I do nothing and think about doing something. This is the I Really Should Start Working Out workout. I did this one for years and shared this activity with many friends including Jonathan. My friend Julie calls this porching which is especially fun to do in the summer. I don’t need much equipment or a special wardrobe. Usually a sofa, a cool drink and a book are all I need to do this. I can even do it barefoot.

My next level of workout is the I Will Do Something Three Times a Week workout. This always starts with good intentions. The first thing I need to do is find the time. Unfortunately this often conflicts with porching, but it’s a sacrifice I can make. This one usually involves walking the dogs, or spending down time walking around the college where I work. It can also involve my getting on an elliptical machine. I need to plan for this and have appropriate shoes, comfortable clothes, and fit it in around a shower. It takes more planning, but it is one that I have done from time to time, but have never really committed to.

A level up from the last workout is the I Will Take a Cardio Class Two Times a Week workout. This is about where I was when I met Patrick. Of course, I need to be a member of some fitness center that has classes. What I need for this is shoes, appropriate clothing, and a very specific time commitment because I have to do this when the class is offered. This is how I stumbled upon kettlebell. I love those workouts, but if it conflicts with work, I can’t go. This also involves certain vulnerability. Because I’m obese, I can’t do all the moves that others in the class can do. I modify virtually everything. I don’t jump or run, I struggle with balance, and I am awkward at lots of things. For many, these reasons alone keep them out of the gym. I fully understand this, but here’s the thing, When you find teachers who know how to modify for your limitations and realize that everyone in that room has limitations of some kind, it’s not about what they think of me, but of what I think of me, and as long as I’m trying, I’m succeeding.  My oldest daughter, Leona, has shared with me that, when she works out and sees a large person doing her best, it’s an inspiration. Sometimes it drives her harder, sometimes, she feels less  (fill in the negative self-worth comment here). Either way, I have come to realize that those in that room all want to succeed at their own levels and I feel confident in saying that we’re all working out for ourselves and not the other people in the room.

The next level before I get to the personal training workout is an addition to the previous one. This is where I add two or more workouts so that I’m deliberately active 5-6 days a week. To me, this has always worked at getting my weight under control (along with deliberate, sensible eating), but I’ve been curious about what a personal trainer would be like. I thought it would be like the classes where I modify within my comfort zone and we customize to my specific needs. Well – it is and it isn’t.

One of the first things that Patrick asked me was how much I intended to work out? Since I was going to see him twice a week, I thought that one more serious cardio workout and two small workouts would be good. Well, no. He didn’t exactly laugh, but he said that he wanted me working out for an hour each day, 7 days a week. This was my first indication that this would be different than I expected. Then of course, he wanted to see what I ate. He’s a fan of The Biggest Looser. I think I’ve mentioned before that he follows Bob Harper’ advice given in his book, The Skinny Rules. This part wasn’t too hard for me as I’m already a convert to, what I call “clean eating.” This involves little to no preservatives, organic food when possible and cooking fresh. Well in addition to that, Patrick has some very firm ideas. Anything he doesn’t approve of is labeled, “The Devil.” Potatoes, pizza, and pancakes are “the devil,” and I am not supposed to eat carbs after lunch. I can pretty much do this, but I draw the line at eating a hamburger with a lettuce bun. I don’t care what you call it, a slice of lettuce is not a bun.

One thing I love and hate about working with Patrick is that he cuts me no slack. When I told him about my strategy for eating at a 4^th of July picnic and how it was a different way than I have done before (which involves no strategy – just a justification that it’s only one day) but this time, I would pace myself and take only one small portion of potato salad and only one turkey burger on a whole wheat bun, he did not praise my efforts. He preached about “devil food” and how I can’t be eating that right now. When I shared with him my success at holding a plank for a minute and that I tried to do a plank on my toes and was able to hold it for 40 seconds, his response was that I should aim for 3 minutes. Harsh – you say? Yes, I thought so too. I still do, but here’s the thing, he’s teaching me to offer no excuses and give no explanations. If I’m going to get the results I want, I have to expect him to push me towards them. While I might like a moment of praise for my efforts, I do like that he doesn’t let me stay there and explain away habits that need to change.

Another thing that Patrick is having me do is work harder than I do when left to my own devices. While I’m happy with walks, he wants me to run. I mean this both literally and metaphorically. I’m happy to use 5-pound weights –he has me on 12. I’m happy to work out 5X a week. He has me at 7. I’m happy to walk briskly, he has me jogging. I’m not happy being obese. I am happy watching the weight come off, feeling my clothing get too big, and having more energy to tackle other tasks.

If I want someone to whine at about sore muscles or brag to about my little victories, I have my porching buddies. Patrick is there to push me to where I never knew I could go.

Food is Love

Counselors and Psychiatrists agree that feelings need to be manifested. If you don’t express your feelings one way, they’ll come out in another way. Thus being said, I must explain that feelings are messy – or at least that is what I was raised to believe. I grew up in a fairly orderly household. My mother and father weren’t neat freaks, but they did like their spaces tidy and orderly. Feelings are neither tidy nor orderly – they are messy. They come at inconvenient times and make us who were raised in a feeling desert uncomfortable. I’m the one who laughs when someone falls, not because I find slapstick particularly funny, but because I don’t know what I should feel. When a friend is pouring her heart out to me and is sobbing, I often have a hard time understanding what she’s saying. This leaves me in a dilemma. Do I just say, “there there, it’s always darkest before the dawn,” or do I risk seeming unfeeling by asking her to repeat what she just said so that I fully comprehend her words? I often resort to jokes or humor to pull someone out of a funk. I think I do this so that the negative mood lifts and we can get on with our lives. It’s not that I can’t be serious; I just don’t know what to do with other’s emotions.

 A popular book series by Dr. Gary Chapman, describes 5 Love Languages. I’m not sure where food fits into the mix, but my mother expressed her love through food and I’ve followed in her footsteps. Mom was a great cook. We could go all year and not eat the same meal twice. I have an entire shelf of my cookbook shelves filled with her old cookbooks and that’s after paring them down. It was two years after she died before I could search for a recipe from those. The feelings were there – in her cookbooks – in her food. She made my favorite food on my birthday. As I’m not a big fan of cake, I’d ask for tapioca pudding. You might be thinking – what kind of treat is that slimy stuff? Have you ever had it with whipped cream (the real stuff) folded into it? No? I didn’t think so. Well when you do, and I strongly advise it, you’ll see what I mean. Mom and Dad traveled 500 miles to bring me some for my birthday when I lived in Kansas. When she made liver for dad, I got a steak. As a kid, I can remember shopping with her – she’d give me coupons and I felt like I was in a great treasure hunt to find the match and get it back to her quickly so that I could get the next treasure. There were brands she did not compromise on:  Peter Pan peanut butter, Nestle chocolate chips, Hellman’s mayonnaise, and I won’t get started on flour and sugar. Other items depended upon the coupon or the sale –even better when the coupon item was on sale. She was a pro. As she aged, I took her to the store. I was often frustrated at her fastidiousness, but looking back on these times; they’re precious hours where we related as women.  Like many 1960’s moms, she was a pro at jello. Like her tapioca pudding, jello was never the plain, jiggly mass of goo. Hers was full of fruit and other mysterious ingredients that made it seem like a ride on a roller coaster. Take a slice of jello, scoop it up with a fork – click, click, click, up to the top and….. whee!  It was a thrill to let the tastes mingle and sparkle as I savoured the unlikely mixture of cucumber, lime jello, cottage cheese, and 7-Up. I don’t eat jello not because of its unnatural beginnings, but like Tang and Hostess Twinkies, I relegate it fondly to my unenlightened childhood memories.

I could go on and on, but let me wrap this up with thoughts about food and love. When I was diagnosed with anxiety that affected my digestion, she helped me change my diet (she would not let me see a counselor… no surprises there). When my dad was diagnosed with heart problems, the first thing Mom did was to get a heart healthy cookbook and learn how to take care of him with her food. You see, Mom could take care of anything with food. She showed her love by preparing food. I was not a fat kid. I ate 3 meals a day and didn’t snack too much outside of special occasions. I didn’t put weight on until I was responsible for my own food. Then feeling lonely and insecure, I went to what I knew would make me feel better – food.  I am tackling this new aspect of my eating like mom and her coupons. There is a goal in mind and the means to achieve it. I now love myself with fresh and minimally processed ingredients. I still miss certain indulgences, but am learning that food is not love – being healthy and connected to the people in my life is.

The Perfect Storm

Have you ever heard someone say this: "It's a God thing." I guess it's a hip way to credit God for something that other's might chalk up to coincidence. Well, I'm not much of a believer in coincidence, it's too random. I really do believe that God cares about what I do and how I interact with others. If you are not of the same mind, I invite you to read on and consider a different point of view or exit this post as I'm going to get religious.
 I've enjoyed a growing and evolving relationship with God. I read my bible and meditate on it daily. I seek God's presence in my life and trust that I am His servant. That sounds very high and holy until I confess that I'm human and fall short of these standards. While I've read the Bible daily for 35 years, I have not always meditated on it's meaning. Some days all I do is read it. Some parts I skip because they're lists of names, other parts I skip because I know them well enough. Often I'm rushed and preoccupied so my daily devotions are not very devoted.

There is one book in particular, however,  that I relish and that's The Psalms; five times the Psalmist says, "sing a new song,". Whenever I read these, I ask myself, " What song am I currently singing, and what new song should I sing?" In this case, I had really come close to total complacence when it comes to my fitness. I was spending hours in front of the TV. I got a lot of knitting done, but there was definitely a facet of my well being that I was neglecting. I'll leave it to you- the reader to suggest song titles for my new song. I might like to add them to my MP3 playlist.

An old camp song says, "God Works in Mysterious Ways." Is it a mystery if you can explain it? Is it a mystery if you're looking for it? Is it a mystery if it smacks you in the face and declares it's presence? I already described on my initial post how God brought Patrick to me. Here's another thing that God did. When the 4 free sessions were done, I wasn't sure how I was going to pay for the next 6 weeks. Let's face it, personal training isn't free. My income is contract based. I either have work and get paid, or I don't, and with three extra adults living in the house, our money is stretched fairly tight. Well, Jonathan heard that he was going to get a check from an unexpected source, and he told me that he wanted me to use that money towards my training. Wouldn't you know it - the check was above and beyond the expected amount in the sum of ... 6 weeks of training!

Patrick describes my situation as a perfect storm. I have a great support system in my family, I have a fairly uncomplicated schedule (for now), I have the summer weather - including the heat which allows me to get in the pool- and I have God providing in amazing ways.

A Cast of Characters

I posted about an almost idyllic ride where I can apply a prayer principle to the monotony of riding laps in a local park. I took that ride at 6 AM on a weekday, but today I was riding at 8 AM on a Saturday. Today’s bike ride had no Zen, no prayer, no peace, but it had a lot of character.

Character #1 the softball teams: This park has 2 fields, but there were two games going on (complete with parents and siblings) and various coaching sessions. How could I tell if a miss-hit or thrown ball would bean me?

Character #2 the bystanders: This includes the coaches backing into the path, the parents moving about, and the children dashing to and fro. I merely slowed down, kept it friendly and, we all made adjustments for each other except for…

Character #3 the lady on the phone: She stood in the middle of the path and I was never sure where she might bob or weave. I don't know for a fact if she has a bigger house than I do, but it's possibe that she really does own more of the bikepath than I do.

Character #4 the dog walkers: They were the least tricky to maneuver around. They usually responded to a friendly, “good morning” and moved onto the grass. There was on dachshund off leash, but he kept it together when I passed and was leashed when I saw him later.

Character #5 the jogger with an MP3 player: This was the hardest. When riding a bike and approaching someone from behind, I have observed a certain kind of etiquette. On the bike paths around here (the ones that go along the river, along old railroad beds and connect here to Wisconsin) bikers announce themselves by saying, “On your left.” When one hears this, one should move to the right and everyone’s happy. I announced myself thusly and she just kept groovin’ to her tunes. I repeated myself with a little more volume, but she still didn’t hear me. Finally I said, “Excuse me… EXCUSE ME!” At the time, I was on the lap with the hill that I enjoy coasting down while I gain momentum for the turn and the straight where I actually shift into a gear I don’t usually get to. As you might imagine, my momentum was broken up when I swerved off the path and into the grass with my brakes squealing. She startled and jumped as I re-gained my place on the path.

I think I need a bicycle bell.