The Rules of Weight Gain I have been Living By

I'm sure there are more than this list that I don't even know about yet, but here are some of the rules I have been living by that have led to my current weight, which is hovering somewhere near 239 (the needle is right in the middle between 239 and 240).

1) If you drink diet coke, it doesn't matter what else you eat because the diet coke negates any other calories.
I mean, duh, right? Of course, if you're drinking something without any calories, of COURSE it means that the ice cream you're having with it will be impacted, right?

2) Calories on special occasions don't count.
This could be something that could be lived with, if I didn't count everything as a special occasion. Not just vacations and holidays. I count going to a new grocery store as a special occasion. Or PMS. Or picnics. Or if I go to a new mall. Or if I'm at someone's house. Or if I get an oil change. Or if I get a car wash. Or if it's payday. And on and on... Every day is a special occasion in my world! Yipppeeee! It's GREAT to be me with all my specialness. Sigh.

3) Working out for 45 minutes totally negates everything I've eaten all day.
I mean, come on, if I'm gonna sweat that much, it has to mean that I can eat whatever I want, right?

4) I have the metabolism of a 13 year old.
When really I'm almost 33 and didn't even have that metabolism when I was 13.

5) I don't have a problem.
I think this is the biggest one. I went to a couple of OA meetings a few years ago and was really pissed off at everyone in the room. They all had problems, I thought, but not me. I was healthy and I just ate too much chocolate. Admitting that I had an addiction that I needed help managing? Admitting that I was out of control? Sheesh, not me. No way. No how. They all were the ones with the problems, but not me. They were just weak. They were giving control away. Not me. I'm Miss In Control. Nobody tells me I don't have control over something. It's still really hard for me to admit that I have a problem. I want to simplify it. "I just eat too much. I could stop whenever I wanted..." I sound just like an alcoholic with that kind of thinking.

I'm not to the point yet where I can admit that I have an addiction that will be with me forever and I will always need to manage. But I guess I'm getting closer.

To be filed in the Small Victories folder - yesterday my entire outfit was from the Gap, which means that I fit into their clothes. I'm holding out to go into Express. Maybe this year? Who knows. I haven't been in Express since I was in college. I don't even know if I'd like their clothes anymore, but I can't wait to have the option...

A weird workout thing I've noticed

So here's something weird that I have noticed in the past when I lost weight, and am also noticing now... when I work out all the time, I don't lose weight so much, but then if I skip a couple of workouts, I wind up losing a pound or two. I have no idea why this works this way, but I have a couple of theories.

First, when I work out a lot, I eat more. When I don't do a workout, I'm much more watchful with what I eat because I know I'm not working out and can't justify extra cookies (which I can't anyway - it's all a weird head game). When I do work out, I'm all "yeah, well, I worked out for 45 minutes today, so let's break out the M&M's..."

I guess I wind up eating more calories than I burned off with my weird thinking. A friend of mine says that weight loss is 75% nutrition and 25% exercise. I don't know what to think. I eat a ton more when I work out and I seem to lose more weight when I don't do crazy workouts.

So I guess I still need to figure it out and see what works. It's just a strange thing to notice.

My mom is visiting and I'm surviving. I did break into the ice cream yesterday, and downed about 100 animal crackers today, but I'm still doing ok, I guess. I need to get over this whole stress eating thing.

Anyway, that's the update. I was 239 this morning. Yay for me, I guess.

Measuring yourself with scales

I had a long talk with my best guy buddy in the UK today, and we got on the subject of weight. He owns a women's gym, so is particularly interested in/curious about my struggle with weight. Professionally as well as in the friend role.

He said it was funny because for the first four years he knew me - when I was living in London and New York, he didn't think I was sensitive about my weight, and I didn't seem like a big girl. Granted, I was about 30 pounds lighter then, mostly because I walked everywhere. He said it was only when I moved to Middle America, and now LA, that he saw that I was sensitive about it.

I was thinking about it recently anyway, because I really miss who I was in London. I was always doing new things and said "yes" to everything that came my way. I was trying to think about why I don't do that anymore, and here's what I've come up with, in part...

In the UK, and Europe, and most of the rest of the world, I guess, there is a Stereotypical American which generally figures something like this - they're fat, wear bad clothes, have fanny packs, the men wear shorts with their dark socks pulled up to their knees, and white sneakers. And they're always always always fat. So when I was in the UK, I was kind of like, "Well, I'm supposed to be fat, I'm American, it's what people expect of me, so I'm not going to worry about it because it's just the way it's supposed to be and I'm not nearly as bad as I could be, so I'm already a step or two ahead."

But here I don't have that measurement to reassure me. I can't play the American who's a notch above the sterotype. So I revert back to being insecure and covering myself up and not going to the belly dancing class I really want to go to.

It was funny because earlier in the conversation he told me that I should start using a measuring tape to track progress rather than a scale, especially if I'm exercising a lot. Then during this part he said, "it's funny because you're measuring yourself on some scale that exists in your head, but isn't really real. It's just a made up scale." And I was like, "man, I've got to stop using scales for everything."

So I don't know. I still don't think I'm going to go to a belly dancing class until about 20 pounds from now, but I should start finding other things to base my judgments of myself on, I guess. It was an interesting thing to think about, anyway.

Real Pushups

Just for fun I decided to see whether I could do "real" pushups tonight. You know, the way they're supposed to be. No knees, or anything. I don't know when the last time I did a real pushup was. I do them with my knees a fair amount - I try to do 15-20 at a time three times a week. But probably the last time I did one with no knees was in college. Well, I did five of them tonight. Five. Real. Pushups. I'm so giddy. I had to run out and tell the hubby, who was down in the driveway shoveling snow. Hooray for getting stronger!

I also shoveled another hour and a half today. I wrote on my twitter (follow me!) that I indulged in chicken strips for lunch. Weeeelll. I know I'm not supposed to think of eating crappy food as a treat to reward myself with after shoveling. I should think of bubblebaths to do that (which I did as well, thank you). But you know what? I've been snowed in for a week and haven't had any fast food during that time, and today we were able to get the car out and into town, and my hubby got these chicken strips at the hot deli of the grocery store, and they smelled so good and greasy, and so sue me, I thought of it as a reward.

Bad thinking, I guess, but whatever. Rome wasn't built in a day. Someday I will think of strawberries as a treat/reward but not yet. Chicken strips. Sorry.

Mindful Chocolate-chip cookie eating

I'm still snowed in, in our mountains above LA. Which is giving me a really bad case of the munchies. The one thing that I take consolation is that because we haven't been able to go anywhere, at least I am munching on "healthy" foods that I probably made from scratch myself. Point is, I'm not stopping at Jack in the Box for an Oreo Cookie shake. I shoveled snow for nearly two hours today, and when I came back in, cold in my bones, I wanted a chocolate chip cookie. I really wanted a chocolate chip cookie. We had no chocolate chip cookies, so I baked some. With ingredients I can pronounce. Flour, sugar, baking powder, eggs, and such. And I licked the bowl. And it was yummy. And I don't feel guilty because I made a conscious choice to eat chocolate chip cookies.

I think that's a big part of my problem. I'm just not mindful. This goes way beyond eating, but eating is a physical manifestation of it. I believe that my body always knows what it wants and needs. I just don't take the time to listen to it. So I'm kind of getting into the whole Mindful Eating thing. If you google Mindful Eating you come up with all sorts of links. The best one I've found so far is The Center For Mindful Eating. I'm still going through it all, but there are lots of links and meditations and ways to become aware of the needs of the body - when you're really truly hungry, and the food your body really truly craves. That's the whole point. Diets don't work, because you're only depriving yourself of food while on the diet, and not really learning new ways of eating so that you don't get big again after the diet ends.

So I am trying to be slower and more deliberate in my actions, having gratitude for everything, appreciating the moment, all that good stuff. And that goes for food, too.

Weird Week (and back down nearly 2 pounds)

I was back down to just over 241 this morning. Back down to that. Huh. That's an oxymoron if ever I heard one. Whatever. Baby steps.

I had travel this past week, which meant that my diet went completely out of whack. Awful airport food, Chinese food delivery to the hotel, Auntie Anne's pretzels...you name it, I ate it. That said, I did get manage to complete 4 workouts of 45 minutes each, and do yoga twice this week. So I'm pretty proud of that.

And this morning I had lost those 2 pounds from last week, so it must have been water or something.
--
So my mother is coming to visit me next week and I'm freaking out. I have a really weird relationship with my mother, and it's related to food, so somewhat relevant to this blog. I am still trying to figure it all out - the relationship with food and my mom - but it's some kind of complicated mess that includes the following:

-my mom doesn't like that I'm fat - I think she takes it as a personal affront. However, she doesn't come out and say it, like a normal mean person would. She says stuff like, "I wish I could buy you nice clothes for your birthday, but I don't know how the sizes at Lane Bryant work."

- my mom sends me packages with tastykakes and chocolate. When I ask her why she sends these things when she knows I am trying to lose weight, she says "well, I figure if you spread it out and just eat one a week, it's not that bad." That's. The. Whole. Point. If I could do that, I wouldn't be fat. That one really makes me mad. You don't give a six pack of beer to an alcoholic and tell them they should make it last a month.

- my mom says she thinks it's her fault that I'm fat because she didn't love me enough and wasn't a good mother. This enrages me because yes, it is her fault in a way. But I hate that she's so self-centered that she thinks it's all about her. I hate making it all about her. Especially when she then sends me chocolate and tastykakes.

- my mom has really weird eating habits. She's like a camel. She won't eat for two days, and then she'll go to an all you can eat buffet and "get her money's worth". So I never really learned good eating habits from her. We ate a lot of processed junk, frozen dinners, etc. Went to Ponderosa to the buffet. Lots of mayonnaise. Never really any good homecooked meals from scratch that I make now. Salad was a chunk of iceberg lettuce, some carrots, and a cup of French dressing. Not a lot of flavor. No real enjoyment of good food, which is something I'd like to both learn myself, and teach my kids. It's one thing to sit down for a long dinner of lovely food, enjoying the colors and tastes, and really enjoy that food. It's quite another to eat a frozen Swanson turkey dinner in five minutes flat with the tv on, which is what we did when I was a kid.

- my mom, being a camel, didn't let me eat breakfast, which I still think is weird. I was a skater when I was a kid - started roller skating at 3 and switched to ice at 9. So we'd spend a lot of time at rinks. People at rinks usually bring food. So there is always some sort of "potluck" at practice sessions. When we'd go to the rink on summer mornings, my mom wouldn't let me eat breakfast first because there would be food at the rink. To start with, the rink was an hour away, and I get carsick on an empty stomach - still do. Second, the food that was there was macaroni salad, cookies, cakes, hot dogs, and general rink food. She'd say "well, just eat a little of each thing" Again, I bring up the alcoholic thing.

There's a lot more stuff like that - weird examples and such - but I'm getting rather bored writing it. I need to figure this all out so I can learn myself, but also so I can teach my kid better habits than I learned from my mom.

Thus, I am quite nervous about my mom's visit.

This is why I hate weighing myself

Ok, so it said I gained 2 pounds. 2 freaking pounds. I have been eating a little more than usual lately, but I've also been working out an extra 15 minutes each day, for 45 minutes five times a week. And it's HARD, too. I'm not just walking at 2 miles an hour on the treadmill or something. I get my heart up to like 150 bpm. Plus I started doing the yoga stuff for strength, and that gets me breathing hard, too.

This sucks.

Ok, so there were some brownies in my life this week. I guess I just can't have any brownies ever. How come some people (like my skinny hubby) can eat brownies all the time? And never gain a pound?

Ok, wake up call, whatever. I will do better this week. More carrots less brownies. Sigh.

So what's up with my fear of weighing myself?

I am still afraid to weigh myself. I've been drinking lots of water, working out a lot, doing yoga, not eating tons of sugar, not eating late at night - all the things Oprah says you're supposed to do. But I'm still afraid to weigh myself. Why? Really, I tell myself all the time that weight is just a number, and my whole goal is to get healthy, and I should go by how my jeans fit and what size I am and not just the scale. But then I freak out when it's time to weigh myself and get all scared. Why?

I have a couple of theories of my own personal reasons.

The first is that if I weigh myself and the number is too high, or hasn't changed despite my better habits, I'll get all discouraged and wonder what the point of it all is. Then I'll eat a twinkie and feel like crap all over again.

I guess that's probably the main reason. But in that moment of weighing myself, so many thoughts go through my head that are unpleasant. Like as I'm taking my clothes off it's, "man, I hope my husband doesn't come in and see this beached whale" (like he doesn't see me naked on a regular basis anyway. Heck, he likes it! Weird.). Then as I'm stepping on it's, "Is the scale in the right place? Last time I put it by this piece of tile and the number seemed to be better. Maybe if I stand with my weight more on my right or left foot it will make a difference?" And then as the number is computing it's "pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease don't be over 240. Please." And then if it's 239 it's "Oh, yay, I'll never be over 240 again!" Or if it's 240 it's "I'll never get back to my college weight of 160 again. I suck. I'm a whale. This sucks." Then I have to put my clothes back on, shamefully, all the while thinking of excuses. Like, "well, my hair was wet. That has to add a pound."

My heart rate races, my palms sweat, and the whole thing is just really uncomfortable. So why do I put myself through it?

I need to get over that whole thing. It's just a measure. It's like a cup of milk. I don't have all these opinions about a cup of milk. A cup of milk is a cup of milk. It's 8 fluid ounces. I don't judge or evaluate the size of a cup of milk. It's a snapshot. A momentary measurement of what I weigh right this second. Nothing more, nothing less.

Yeah, well, I'm not going to weigh myself this morning because I already ate breakfast. Maybe tomorrow I'll be brave enough to step on the scale.

Stuff

Ok, so it's been a while since I've blogged, but that doesn't necessarily mean I've fallen off the wagon. Here are some things I'm noticing.

1) I get really off track when I travel. I was at a conference in Denver last week and I ate burger king like crazy. It's like whenever I go off my normal routine, I just get totally crappy with food. And now my skin is paying for it, too. Ick.

2) I feel better when I'm not stuffed. I've noticed that I actually don't want to eat a ton of food during the day because it makes me sluggish. Now this doesn't mean that I always listen to my body, but it's interesting that my body really doesn't want a lot of heavy food.

3) It's not much harder to add an additional 15 minutes of working out to my schedule. Before I'd been doing 30 minutes four or five times a week, but then I read that really 30 minutes is good to maintain weight, but to lose it you really have to do at least 45 minutes. I had considered upping it gradually, but last week, while watching the Superstars of Dance finale, I just went crazy on the elliptical for 45 minutes, and it really wasn't that difficult. In this week I have now done five 45 minute workouts, which is an additional 75 minutes of working out over what I would have done if my sessions were 30 minutes.

I don't have any stats because I'm too afraid to get on the scale. But my jeans fit well (the size 20 ones from the Gap, not the 22 from Lane Bryant, which I've now donated to goodwill) and I'm feeling good. Also, another benefit is that lately I've been doing a lot of one-day trips up to San Francisco, which require me getting up very early in the morning. To try to make this less painful, I'm getting on a schedule where I wake up at 6 each morning. During the three hours in between waking up and starting work, I have started doing yoga videos.

I'm also cutting way back on my diet coke and drinking a lot of water. I'm really liking the Archer Farms flavored water, but even that is beginning to be a bit strong for my newly formed tastebuds which are craving plain water and not too much flavor.

So that's where things stand right now. Maybe next week I'll have stats.