A year in Review

What a year.  Some years are trial and some are rest.  We've had two in a row now that were trial.  I'm waiting for the rest.  Trying to make significant lifestyle changes is never easy in the best of conditions, but trying to do it under stress when all you want to do is stress eat, is another kind of trial all together.  In the past year we have endured and tried to deal with:
 1. Back to the studs renovation of the kitchen
 2. Back to the studs renovation of two bathrooms
 3. Addition of a pantry
 4. Division of one room to make two
 5. Refinishing first floor wood floors
 6. Painting nearly every wall, most of the trim, and most of the ceilings on the first floor
 7. Removal of a huge nest of yellow jackets in the attic that broke through into the house and the ceiling repaired and painted
 8. The death and replacement of the hot water heater
 9. A defective hub that caused a wheel to come off the car at highway speeds causing damage to the body, axle, wheel, and tire.  Thankfully my son who was driving was not injured.
10. Two cavities (not mine)
11. My first colonoscopy
12. Dealing with an improperly coded insurance claim that went to collections when the provider failed to file it with said insurance
13. The four month absence of my women's organization president while she worried over her young daughter with cancer and I had to run the organization in her absence.
14. The resignation of two consecutive assistants
15. My mother breaking her leg and worrying over her during months of rehab (she is still recovering)
16. Helping my youngest son prepare through medical and practical issues to serve a two year mission.
17. Purchase of a new car and retiring one that's been with us for fourteen years.

Those are just the highlights--or lowlights as it were.  I suppose when I consider the stress specific to the month of December, and the food I ate, the fact that I "only" gained two pounds is quite remarkable.  I was especially discouraged when I had my A1C retested and despite months of healthy eating and regular exercise, it didn't budge.  Not even a tenth of a point.  I complained to my mother (nurse) who told me it takes a loooong time to affect A1C numbers. It should have made me feel better, but don't we always think we are the exception?  Like my number should have changed just because it's me.  If my body has proven anything to me over the years, it's that it's pretty medically typical.

Twenty-ish pounds has always been my weightloss limit regardless of my starting weight.  My goal for 2020 will be to break through that wall to lose the rest of the weight that needs to come off.  I have an appointment with my hormone doc this morning to consult with her on what to expect from my 53 yo body and what my current replacement therapy can and can't do.  Then I'm getting my bike remeasured with the hope of tooling around my neighborhood in a few more weeks as spring comes to the south.

And the Hits Keep Coming...

Today is an official weigh-in day so I have to accept the gain.  I'm up two pounds and I'm hoping at least one of those is water weight, but stress eating has definitely been happening.  A week before Thanksgiving, just days after we got home from Belize, the hot water heater died.  Because we were trying to work through the home warranty that came with the house when we bought it last year, it didn't get replaced for a week and only after we took matters into our own hands.  It was an albeit first world nightmare of hauling laundry back and forth to the laundromat, boiling water to wash dishes, and showering at the gym.  It just took a lot of time and effort when I was trying to prep for a major holiday. 

Then days after getting it replaced, the wheel came off the car my son was driving in the left lane, at highway speeds.  He's okay, but I shudder to think what could have happened.  Now the battle starts to get it fixed. The mechanic who did the wheel bearings three weeks ago better make this right.  

In the meantime, the holiday food gauntlet continues tonight with hubby's office party.  I think it's weird to have a party on a Monday night, but at least it doesn't interfere with the weekend. I'm starting the day with an easy, solid breakfast. I have to get back on track.  I'll be spending the week working this weight off which won't be easy since I drive up to Cincinnati with Jake on Wednesday and back on Saturday.  The friend I'm staying with has battled weight as well and since she loves me and will go to great lengths to help me stay on track. I'm grateful for her love and friendship.

Here Comes the Sun

2019 will be dubbed, "The Year Julie Went Outside."  I don't think I've had tan lines in at least five years.  Like a good redhead, I'm allergic to most of everything beyond my front door, I have asthma, and the sun is a cruel jailer because even with quality sunscreen, I'm good for about 30 minutes before I start to burn.

But it wasn't always this way... Growing up in northern California, I spent all my time outside.  I swam, climbed trees, ran around the yard, and had grand adventures of my own imagination.  I remember summer days in high school loading up the car and driving to Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk with friends. I even spent a few summers working as a lifeguard.  My hair bleached out and my skin darkened up so I was all one color. A summer never passed as a teen and into college that I didn't own at least six swimsuits.

My family vacationed at the beach. We were outside until sunset and after dinner we went back out to make s'mores on the beach.  Sand was everywhere and in everything and we loved it. When my parents downsized and sold their home, I helped sort and clean.  I had a teary moment when I discovered that my mother had been saving all our sea shell treasures for decades in a large bin.  Every beach walk, every decorated sandcastle, even the ones my children found when we took them back to the beach too.

Then my father started having skin pre-cancer cells and moles removed.  Often.  As a Californian, he grew up in the pool and at the beach too, before the days of good sunscreen or campaigns to apply it liberally and often.  He was really good about wearing a hat.  It was his thing to protect his pale skinned, blonde scalp from burning, but it was too little too late. The damage he had done as a teen was done.

Having had plenty of sunburns of my own and finally being old enough to see the sun damage on older women, I recognized it for what it was and how it aged them. I decided to become like Nicole Kidman and be known for my glowing, creamy skin.  Only mine didn't look glowy or creamy.  It looked translucent and sickly. Still, I patted my pale hand on my paler back and congratulated myself for avoiding skin cancer. It helped that we lived in the Poconos Mountains.  Where our summer wasn't even two months long.

Then we moved to North Carolina, the opposite coast, but with that wonderfully warm weather and mild winters. I was giddy about not having to shovel snow.  That the city shuts down (for lack of equipment) and no one expects me to drive in snow--one of my worst, irrational fears, is a blessing I can't put into words.

This year I needed to exercise without the pressure of a standard gym workout.  The pool was a gimmie for movement without stress and we had just moved to a neighborhood with a pool.  It just meant I had to leave the comfort of my air conditioning (which was kind of the point--leaving my comfort zone) and letting the sun shine down.  Sunscreen, cover ups, sunglasses, hats, I went out protected and suddenly remembered that I used to like being outside.

Then I started to walk, get to know my neighborhood, and say hello to other walkers.  It was a little like walking to my friend's house used to be as a kid. With my inhaler and meds on board, my protections in place, I was mobile. In the weeks since venturing out of doors, my hair has bleached some (or maybe it's just more gray,) my skin has tanned some, and while I know I'm moving forward, not back--I'm not trying to be my teenage self--I have to say that it is nice seeing a little of the me I knew best brought forward into my present when I look in the mirror.

Upon reflection, it's a good thing I went outside because my hubby decided we needed a tropical vacation.  I'm sorry, but you just don't take a redhead to the equator.  Now here I sit on the resort island of Ambergris Caye, ninety minutes by water taxi off the shore of Belize City, Belize.  Thanks to having already been outside this summer, I haven't spontaneously burst into flames yet and I'm loving it.

 

Where's the Fire?

As a food addict, (I can admit that now) I really used food to feel good.  I anticipated that physical rush in my blood sugar that made me feel happy.  I still love the strokes I get from making beautiful baked goods and impressing others. It is curious? Fascinating? Interesting? to me that as I have come off the buckets of sugar I was eating three months ago, I still get a rush from eating the healthy foods.  It's not the same sort of shot-out-of-a-cannon explosion that sugar gives me, but now that I'm better at identifying actual hunger, I'm sensitized enough to be aware of the increase in my blood sugar that comes from calories going in. It's more like a low burn now instead of an inferno and it lasts longer instead of flaring up and burning out.  The emotions are changed too.  Instead of that energetic high, followed by, "I need to sit down and rest," I'm learning to make use of that steady, keep going level of energy.  It's an energy shift instead of an energy roller coaster.  It's an adjustment.  I think I like it.

Swimsuit Fashion Show

When you've gained enough weight, and have a virtual clothing store in your closet because you're going to "lose weight and wear that shirt again..." you learn that sizes don't mean a lot.  You can buy two pairs of the identical jeans and they will fit differently.  I have a two-piece swim suit which is basically a halter top and skorts.  It's an XL.  I've been wearing it to the pool to exercise and it's become an issue because as I've lost weight, I spend half my time pulling the bottoms up and the top down. There was a time in my California life that I never had less than six swimsuits each summer.  I had more when I was on the college diving team.  I would rotate them so the chlorine wouldn't chew through them as quickly.  Today I pulled out old suits looking for a solid one-piece that I could exercise in and not worry about it moving.  They were all size tens or less.  How did I not save anything between size ten and sixteen?  Then I pulled one out that looked larger even though the tag said "10." I made the decision to see if it would at least fit over my leg. It was snug, but I was able to pull it up without embarrassing gyrations.  It will also loosen up when it gets wet.  I'm energized to go to the pool today because I'm wearing something I couldn't wear twelve weeks ago...that I won't have to worry about flashing all the little old ladies treading around with pool noodles.

Officially Monday

Mondays are my official weigh-in day. I couldn't weigh last Monday because I was traveling. My goal was just not to gain since I knew I wouldn't have much control over my food. So over two weeks since the last time I officially weighed-in, I've lost 3.5 pounds, 1.5 pounds a week, right on track! That brings my 12 week total to 21.4, a healthy average of 1.7 pounds per week. That's actually more than I expected and it will likely slow down a bit. In fact, this is new territory; I've never lost and kept off more than 20-something pounds before. My motivation is more than vanity though so hopefully I can keep going.

Today is also my monthly body fat% check. I've dropped 1% in the last month. I'm not sure how much fat that represents, but at least it's going in the right direction!

Forward, but Backward

I hit a mini goal today. It's a strange thing to be so focused on moving forward and experiencing shadows of life in reverse. I know exactly where my weight was each time a major life event pushed me to gain, "I weighed X when I lost my father," "I weighed X when my son received his diagnosis." As I stress ate, my weight climbed to a new plateau. When the next event hit, I went up again. I always say I have not struggled with weight my whole life, because I haven't. I was a two-sport athlete in college. I coached gymnastics for >15 years and have been an experience, certified fitness instructor for 25. I actually had to learn how to gain weight when I was pregnant with my first child. My body fat% was low enough to never have regular cycles so even getting pregnant was difficult. When I was in peak condition, the trainers measured me at 12% body fat, too low for even elite female athletes. Now at 53 years old, I've spent the last 20 struggling with my weight. That's almost half. It’s true I haven’t struggled with my weight my whole life, but I have struggled nearly my entire adult life.

I made a conscious mental shift when I started "this time" to lose, that I wasn't trying to recapture something I used to have or be someone I used to be. I wanted to be the best me for right now, at this age. I wanted to keep potential medical issues from becoming real ones and minimize the symptoms that accompany the damage so many years of competitive sports did to my body. As I'm walking back down the scale, I am remembering my life the last time I was at that weight. Today's weight accompanies leaving a home we custom built in a place we loved because the company we worked for laid off about twelve thousand employees over about three years. Thankfully we were able to take a package, get a new job, and start over. But it also meant changing schools after our youngest son started high school.  It meant taking a huge loss on our home since the housing market was flooded while twelve thousand other people tried to do the same thing we were.   I can still feel the emotions of it now. As I try to let the feelings pass through me, rather than control me, hubby and I have decided to go for a bike ride. I don’t think we’ve done this in thirty-two years of marriage. This, this feels like moving forward in a way stuffing my face with cookie dough never did.

What is Health?

Health is more than what we eat. Today I saw my gyn for my annual exam, scheduled my mammogram, and got my flu shot. 😷 My blood pressure which was high-normal at my highest weight was back to just normal. Treated myself to sushi on the way home. Heading to the gym now. Oh! And this is a kind of scale victory...when I weighed in at the doctor's, I was still under 200 AFTER having eaten breakfast AND while wearing clothes. Yea! (I totally made a big deal out of pointing it out to the nurse.)

Anatomy of a Walk

This morning my workout slot was taken up by helping my son get his passport.  Instead of driving all the way to the gym, I decided to just walk the neighborhood. I grossly underestimated my route.  What was supposed to be around two miles of sidewalk nods to neighbors and small hills turned into nearly four miles of, "What were you thinking?!"  Oh, and the outside temp that was overcast in the low 70's when I left, was 84 and full sun before I got home.  My internal dialog went something like this:

“I’m so smart, walking outside, saving gas.”

“Walking outside is good for me. I get lazy on the treadmill. Out here I have to do the hills.”
“My legs feel kind of fatigued.  I’m surprised they’re still recovering from Monday’s strength training.”

“Look at that yard.  I wish I could grow anything.”

“Maybe I won’t do a long walk today, I’ll turn around soon and go back.”

“That house needs shutters. Naked windows look smaller.”

“I could can turn around here. No, I’m better than this, I’ll keep going.”

“I’m going to stop at the end of this street. Oh look, that house is for sale again.”

“I think this street connects to the one at the back of the neighborhood.  If I turn here, I’ll just make a loop.  I can do that.”

“Oh. The sun came out.”

“I didn’t wear sunscreen.”

“Huh, this isn’t where I thought this road went.” (Pulls up GPS app.)

“Ok, I could just go back now, or I could still make the loop, it will just be a little longer loop. I am awesome and I’m going to do the longer loop. In for an ounce, in for a pound…”

“It’s really hot out here.  Does no one plant trees anymore?  Where’s the shade?!”

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to die out here.  I wonder if I could flag down a FedEx driver to take me home.”

“I wonder if I could dive into the back of that pick-up while it’s moving? What’s the speed limit on this road?”

“Where is my turn?” (Pulls up GPS again) “My hips and back are starting to complain.”

“OK, I can do this. It’s time to break out the ‘Annoyingly Chipper’ playlist or become statuary on this guy’s lawn.  He can mow around me.”

“Oh! I just remembered I have a chicken rice bowl already prepped for the moment when I walk in the door. And cold Pellegrino! I even have a fresh lime!  I would amputate a finger for carbonation right now.”

“Is that a hill?  I don’t remember a hill there. What fresh hell is this?!”

“This is a great playlist.  Maybe if I dance while I walk I can pretend I’m not dying.”

“Do I care if the neighbors see me dancing?  No, I don’t think I do.”

“Aw, I made that old guy smile.  People should dance more.”

“I could just sit down on this curb and take a nap.”

“There’s that stupid FedEx driver again.  Why didn’t he see my distress and offer me a ride?  Didn’t he see me dancing?  Public dancing is a sure sign of distress.  Jerk.”

“There!  Home!  That’s my house!  I live there!”

“I am amazing.”

The Big Picture

According to The American Council on Exercise, a safe rate of fat loss is 1% per month.  Anytime you lose weight on the scale, it's a combination of fat, muscle, and water.  Over the last four weeks I've lost .8% which puts me right on track. I've lost 1.3% in the last eight weeks. I think now that I've added weight training, the percentage will step up a little bit over the coming month. 

Recommended weightloss is 1-2 pounds a week for sustainability and to avoid the yo-yo bounce-back effect.  My average has been 1.8 pounds per week. Both of these statistics are reassurance that what I'm doing is healthy, and more importantly, it's working.  With the daily ups and downs, it's good to step back and look at the big picture.  I'm doing okay and need to keep doing what I've been doing.

Pools and Mermaids

When you get old enough, you become removed from many childhood memories that you were sure could never be forgotten.  I exercised in the pool today as it's my day off from the weights.  I love being weightless.  I like the that water pressure pushes water out of the tissues if you're retaining fluid. I like that movement in the water provides a mild massage to the lymph system just under the skin. When I finished my fifty minutes of walking, jumping, and swimming, I stretched in the steam room, I let the jets beat on me in the spa tub, and then I went in the dry sauna hoping to dry off a bit before getting back in the car. As I laid down on the bench, for an instant, I was whisked back in time. I was eight, it was high summer and the goal was to spend the entire day in the pool.   When forced to get out we'd lay down on the hot pavement around the pool.  The heat would immediately seep all the way through muscles we didn't know were tired.  When we pushed up, the water from our wet bodies would leave prints that looked like a mermaid.  Sometimes we would get wet again to see what other shapes we could make with our bodies on the hot concrete.  When I got up to leave, I looked back at the bench to see if a mermaid had been there.

FINALLY!

199.8

I realize it's going to fluctuate.  I realize that it's a moment in time.  I realize I'm going to go eat breakfast and it's going to be above 200 again, but it's also a trend.  It's a result of hard work.  It's an indication of what's possible. It's a reason to go to the gym again today when I'm sore and don't want to. I can do this.

Up or Down

*heavy sigh* Scale was up this morning after being down all week. I was this close to being under 200.  I thought today was the day.  I've been giving myself all the mental pep talks I give to other people about weight fluctuations after starting strength training--especially when you know you haven't gone over your calorie budget, let alone consumed an extra 3500 calories. Those become mental exercises when the emotion of change creeps up.  As I look at my "official" weight from last week, I am actually down a tiny bit.  That does alleviate some of disappointment. 199 is just so close I can taste it.  Furthermore, I need to know this is working and will keep working. It's too much effort for it to not mean anything.

I have a lot on my plate today.  Lots of legitimate reasons to not get to the gym, but I have to make it happen.  I'm going to get dressed in my gym clothes and run around town that way until I make it to the gym. Promise.

UPDATE:  I did make it to the gym, but not until after 3:30.  Never again.  I was competing with fifteen year old posers for the free weights.  I can already tell I'm going to be sore.  I finally showered for the day at 5:30 pm.  Chicken taco for dinner.

Hello Gym

Well, I'm back in the gym.  It had to happen sometime.  I drive farther to go to a less used, but still well equipped gym. I also go late morning so I avoid the overly energetic super mommies and the early morning grumpsters.  This week my goal is to do the machine circuit of weights, working the full body, and making my muscles remember this kind of work M,W, F.  Minimal cardio and movement of some other kinds on the other three days. Yesterday it was the indoor pool--which wasn't as terrible as I was afraid it would be.  Not sure what tomorrow is yet, maybe the heavy bag.  I have to set up for an event in my usual exercise slot so we'll see.  Unfortunately I have a big blister on my heel that's trying to heal so no repetitive walking for a while.  Next week I'll start on a legit strength program working different body parts and different days and nothing long.  Three sets of ten for each exercise, three exercises per body part. Short cardio.  Go home and shower. If that all takes me longer than an hour, I'm doing something wrong.  Still working my food choices.  Weightloss happens in the kitchen, fitness happens in the gym.

Thanks Mom!

I had a convo with my mother, who’s a nurse, yesterday—whining about a minor gain despite doing everything the same. Medically and personally, she knows pretty much everything about weightloss and weight gain.  She reminded me of something I had forgotten about. When you burn fat, where does it go? It helps give the body energy for metabolic activities, generates heat, which helps maintain your body temperature, and waste products. These waste products — water and carbon dioxide — are excreted in your urine and sweat or exhaled from your lungs. The portion of the fat leaving your body in fluid form is fluid in your tissues first. Fluid weighs more than stored fat cells. A minor gain can be an indication that you are, in fact, losing. This often happens in stalls followed by a bigger loss. Fat loss is not a steady decline, it’s the up and down of normal metabolic processing. It made feel better about the small gain I had experienced despite doing everything the same.  Sure enough, I dropped farther this morning. Down to a total of 11.7 pounds in six weeks so far.  That's still a stunning average of nearly two pounds a week.  Thanks Mom!

Patience

I've been right on track this week, but it's looking like I'll only have a one pound loss to show for it.  That's a totally acceptable, healthy number, it's just lower than the last five weeks and I'm anxious to get out of the 200's.  It's a weird thing to think about that you can do everything right, everything the same, and still get a different result.  Once again, it's "not simple math."  Learning the different facets of patience seems to be a life journey for me.  I've had blessings and answers to prayers that have said as much, I don't know why I'm surprised every time it comes up as a challenge.  Assuming I have the ability to keep doing what I'm doing, losing the weight then becomes a waiting game.  If I lose an average of a pound a week (some weeks more, some less) then I have to wait for a year to go by to lose 52 pounds.  While that knowledge lives somewhere in the back of my mind, I can't wrap my head around a year.  I have to figure out what's for dinner.

Small Triumphs

Yesterday I turned 53 and my mother was moved into a skilled nursing facility.  Turns out she broke her knee when she fell. Movement is unbearable.  She needs to eat to regain her strength, but she doesn't want to because that means she'll have to go to the bathroom and that means movement--movement accompanied by a dozen teenage helpers to accommodate her size. She feels embarrassed and fatigued.  Right now she's working with physical therapy to be able to move back to her retirement village when the break heals. I've never seen this terminally optimistic woman so disheartened.

In the past, holidays and tradition were my favorite excuses to indulge.  Certainly a birthday combined with stress over my mother's condition were good excuses, if ever there were any, to eat with abandon. A different outcome, however, requires a different choice.

I started the morning making my own on-program breakfast of eggs and fruit. I needed the shot of protein, but to keep the calories down since I expected to eat out.  After breakfast I talked my husband into going for a long walk with me.  That was good for both of us and made the time go by faster. After a shower, my daughter took me to lunch at a pub.  I picked it because I knew they had good salads, but I underestimated how difficult it would be to see and smell my daughter eat handmade stone baked pizzas and chicken wings.  I ate one chicken wing and it was SO good.  It was hard not to put my face in the plate and eat the rest.  Thankfully, my salmon and mango salad came quickly.  It was beautiful and delicious. After I got some protein in, I was less hungry and better able to ignore the pizza and wings.

Dinner was more of the same.  I splurged on a small steak, roasted asparagus, and a salad. We didn't order dessert.  Instead my husband had picked up chocolate cupcakes from a favorite bakery down the street.  I looked forward to that indulgence all day.  The icing was as good as remembered, but the cake was dry.  That was disappointing for something so anticipated.  Looking back, I enjoyed the chicken wing more than the cupcake.  (I will deny that if you bring it up in public.) I went to bed proud that I had made good choices.

I expected my weight to be up this morning. It was down.  Color me shocked.  I re-weighed myself three times to make sure the scale really meant it.  I hope it's still down tomorrow when I have to record it. It meant I could squeeze (it was snug but at least it zipped!) into a skirt for church that I couldn't wear a month ago, ten pounds ago.

Today as I watch television commercials for fast food, I'm amazed at how unappealing they are.  None of them had the appeal of the food at lunch with my daughter when it was placed in front of me. I believe there has been a small shift in my thinking which makes the television commercials less tempting. I hope it's a shift that sticks around.

 

Because She Can't and I Still Can

One of the complications that goes with lympadema is cellulitis.  Lack of movement, poor circulation--all ideal conditions for infection.  Last night my mother was admitted to the hospital for sepsis.  She's on IV antibiotics and they are doing cultures in search of the cause.  Because of her size, they have to get a special bed brought in, and everything takes on a life and death component. When you don't have good circulation, you don't have healing. Her size becomes its own symptom.  This is a family legacy I'm trying to avoid so this morning I walked and walked.

We have a hill at the front of our neighborhood and I was determined to climb it and reach the end of that street before turning around to come home.  It was blissfully cool when I stepped outside, it even began to drizzle about forty minutes into my walk.  It felt good.  I just stopped and put my face up to the sky and prayed for my mother.  Then because she can't, I kept walking.  I smelled freshly cut grass, pine trees which reminded me of California, wet pavement, and flowers hanging on to the end of summer.  I walked a full hour before I got home. It felt good.

One Month Down

My goal was 1-2 pounds a week.  As I hit the one month mark today, I'm down eight pounds.  That's right on track.  (Only a half pound over last week.) I might have been more, but I allowed myself some sweets while I was out of town last weekend.  I'm proud of myself for taking accountability for those calories and logging them, not letting them be some dirty little secret that sabotaged my progress.  I'm hoping my weight will hold steady this week since my birthday is on Saturday and there will be chocolate cake. I'm in this for the long haul; I have to remember that from meal to meal.  I can't think about the next eight pounds or next month, just what's for dinner. Tonight that is pork chops.

Spandex Isn't the Same as Actual Weight-loss

I hit my second intermediate goal today! (My first was to record my food for 21 days straight to realign in my brain portion control and what foods are healthy.) In the last eighteen months, I lost my father, my husband's job was eliminated in an overseas corporate buy-out, my son got married, we moved four states away for a new job, I had to close down and restart my home business, we renovated the entire first floor of our new home while living in it, and through it all, I binged on all my favorite comfort foods.  Thanks to climbing ladders to paint, packing and unpacking boxes, I "only" gained eight pounds, but it took me to a high I swore I'd never see--a high that actually surprised me. I was so deeply in denial.  Spandex helped, but it couldn't hide the weight that I was so obviously carrying in the wedding photos.

Today the scale said I've lost the weight that accompanied all that stress, both good and bad. My reward will be to drive seven hours and visit my son and his wife tomorrow whom I haven't seen since Christmas.

My next weight goal will be to reach the weight I was when I lost my workout partner a couple years ago.  I'm going to need some good intermediate goals along the way. *puts on thinking cap*

Visors and Collagen

The humidity smacked me in the face as I walked out the door this morning, but I was determined, especially since the end of my week will be largely out of my control.  First let me say, visor for the win!  I was much cooler than with the hat even with the raised humidity. Music was good and I managed the hills.

Note to self:  Use inhaler at least 30 min before walking outside, just like the sunscreen, for maximum benefits.

I've also started using collagen powder as a supplement. I'm not big on supplements besides a few extra vitamins women are typically deficient of even with a good diet.  I did a lot of research and haven't found any downside for someone my age at a conservative dose of 11g a day.  The only thing I can say I don't like about it is if you don't get it completely dissolved, it has an aftertaste like my blow dryer smells.  Otherwise it's tasteless and odorless.  Even with a healthy dose of skepticism, the potential for positive effects seems pretty good.  Not willing to live my life completely without chocolate, sugar, or pasta, I wanted to see if there was anything to help boost my body's anti-inflammatory abilities. Plus, I have arthritis in my knee and in my thumb. I have wide hips and am slightly bow-legged so my gait isn't very straight to begin with.  Add 70 extra pounds to that, a herniated disk, and some years, and I'm an aging cartilage disaster waiting to happen.  This journey is not about returning to some place in the past, some previous version of me, it's preparing for a future I can see coming faster than I'd like.

It's supposed to take about two weeks to start seeing benefits, but I gotta say, three days in that my walk was less achy this morning and I personally think my skin is looking better.

Prepped for Success

I went to Costco last week and loaded up on proteins, wild salmon, chicken, and frozen shrimp.  Yesterday I went to the store and bought perishables that I use in smaller quantities.  It took me a couple of hours, but it's all prepped now and I love opening my fridge to all the possibilities.  There are smoothie packs, salads, breakfasts, marinated proteins, browned butter, all ready to go in minutes.  I feel so much less deprived of all the things I shouldn't have when I see the rainbow of foods that are waiting to be consumed.

The other thing that is really helping me, is with the time I'm saving on prep, I have the energy to make meals pretty.  When I feel like I'm at a fancy restaurant, I think the food even tastes better. Breakfast this morning was a salmon and asparagus frittata (because I suck at making omelettes) with watermelon and pineapple.  

To Hat or Not to Hat

I exercised in the pool yesterday and wanted to try walking a little farther on land today, seeing how my joints and muscles continued to hold up.  Plus, the pool doesn't open until 11:00 and I needed to be done and back before my delivery window on a piece of furniture.  Didn't count on the humidity...

Pretty sure I was on the border of heat exhaustion and my 30 minutes stretched out to 45 because I had to slow down.  I've never been so grateful for patches of shade.  I remembered my hat this time, but I'm not sure the heat it contained was worth the tiny bit of shade it provided.  You wear a hat to stay warm, right? Maybe I need a visor?  With the sun coming in sideways at 9:30 am, it didn't even shade my whole face.  Suddenly going to the gym is sounding better and better.  That, and a nice cool shower.  Definitely pool tomorrow.

Gravity for the Win

For the last two weeks (twelve workout sessions) I have been doing what I call "remedial exercise."  At my current weight, gravity and I do not get along well, especially my knees.  The pool has been great.  I grew up in California and being in or around water is a happy place for me.  I even worked as a lifeguard a few summers.  With the buoyancy of the water, I could do full range of motion and full body exercises.  Added bonus, the water pressure helps to stimulate the lymph system and squeeze excess water out of your tissues.  Last night, unfortunately, someone's baby pooped in the pool, automatically shutting it down.  Now it has to filter for 24 hours before being open again.  I took this as an opportunity to transition to land for a day.  Maybe I'll start alternating water and land. I have to step into the gym eventually, right?  (I'm not embarrassed to go, just not looking forward to that type of workout.)

Anyway, I laced up my shoes, grabbed my headphones for some music, a water bottle, and just walked out my door.  I even set a timer for 30 minutes so I'd be out at least that long before heading home.  The pool doesn't usually open until 11:00 so it was nice to be out before the sun was hot.  The humidity was also low.  A good beginning.  I had tremendous optimism as I went up and down very gentle slopes of neighborhood streets, patting myself on the back for my remedial pool exercise that prepared me to handle this first jaunt so well.  Ten minutes in I thought, I might just walk for forty-five minutes instead.  Fifteen minutes in I realized a had a blister between my toes. Twenty minutes in the humidity was starting to pick up and I realized I forgot my inhaler.  Twenty-five minutes in the sun had come out from behind the clouds and I realized I had forgotten a hat, sunglasses, and sunscreen.  I started heading for home and was so grateful when my alarm went off just before I got to the driveway. Might as well have been thirty miles.  But, it's done and off my list for the day.  Next up, meal prepping for the week.

Looking for the Divine

According to the website Quote Investigator, an essay published in 1858 in “The Methodist Quarterly Review” discussed poetry, and the author compared the methods of adroit sculptors and poets. This may be where the quote about chipping away the extra attributed to Michelangelo originated.

"It is the sculptor’s power, so often alluded to, of finding the perfect form and features of a goddess, in the shapeless block of marble; and his ability to chip off all extraneous matter, and let the divine excellence stand forth for itself. Thus, in every incident of business, in every accident of life, the poet sees something divine, and carefully scales off all that encumbers that divinity, and permits it to be revealed in all its transcendent loveliness."

I actually like this thought much better than the watered down version I was pondering before posting this morning.  I think one of the reasons experts tell you not to weigh yourself daily is that you begin to obsess over the number.  It has the potential to knock you off track as easily as it keeps you honest and on track.  I'm an every day weigher.  For me, it keeps me honest in my choices.  However...I do feel like I'm doing battle with it.  I'm trying to "push" (shove, manhandle, stomp, labor) the number down like an industrial coil under tension to spring back up rather than, as the sculptor, chipping away and letting the excess fall away.

The author above has taken it one step further though, and this is something I acknowledge because I tried to teach my kids, the women at church, anyone who will listen, that you are divine.  I am divine.  I don't have to be a poet to see that in myself or in others.  I'm not talking about metaphorical rose colored glasses and trying to overlay a cheery perspective on something that needs to change.  I'm talking about actual change which brings the individual closer to what the Maker designed.  Not what media designed or my husband designed or even I did with poor food choices and activity levels on par with a sloth. She's in there somewhere I need to feed the inside and the outside with the good stuff so the extraneous falls away to reveal the divine.

It's Not Simple Math

I like electronic food diaries. Don't get me wrong, I HATE keeping it, having to be conscious about every bite that goes in my mouth, but it makes tracking macros, calories, nutrition, food variety, and weight progress infinitely easier than the old paper journals.  We no longer have to tediously look up approximate calorie counts or grams of fiber.  Perhaps even better than the running calculations is the ability to identify trends.  What isn't so useful is the the predictions they make, based on past numbers, supposedly to keep you motivated.  "Hey! Keep it up! You're going to reach your goal by June 1 next year!"

First of all, I can't think about next year.  I have to think about dinner.  I have to think about the next five pounds.  Even though I haven't changed dress sizes, and won't for weeks and weeks, I have to believe what I'm doing makes a difference right now.  If I do, next June will take care of itself.

The other thing that bugs me about that predictive banner is that it's simple math.  It assumes that if you do what you've done for the last week, this is where the math comes out.  But that math doesn't take into account bad days, holidays, my birthday that will not be without chocolate cake, water retention, travel, or times when I failed to plan. It's a simple equation that doesn't include all the variables I'm expending great effort to control. That June date means nothing.  I wish I could hide it. I have no illusions about just how long this is going to take.  In fact, I can't even think about what maintenance is going to take since gaining is so easy. I just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, one healthy meal on top of one healthy day.

I'm the Boss of Me

I'm a list maker.  I love crossing things off and having that sense of accomplishment that goes with effort productively applied. Yes, I've been known to add things to the list which weren't originally on the list just so that I could cross them off.  So it eludes me why I so totally loathe menu planning.  Isn't it just another list?  No, it's emotional food prison.  It says you can eat this and only this no matter what your mood is.  Then I give the menu the evil eye, stomp my foot, and say "You're not the boss of me!"  ...and order a pizza.  Clearly I have food issues. 

I'm trying to see it as a tool, to recognize that when I make the menu, shop it, and prep it, I am the boss.  I am in control. This will help me stay in control rather than let emotion, stress, or low blood sugar make the choices for me.  I choose.

This last week I've actually surprised myself with tasty and appealing meals.  I decided to start taking pictures and make myself a card file so in the future I can literally lay-out the week.  I've been watching a lot of meal prep videos.  I cannot eat the same thing everyday for a week.  That's effectively a week of leftovers to me. I don't know how people do it.  Understand why, but how do they choke it down. I've found a few vlogs though, who prep ingredients so when it's time to cook, the prep work is already done and they still have fresh "new" food.  It also means they can change their mind and still work within a healthy framework.

Downshiftology  https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCYidQwKhM3WTDKpT8pwfJzw
Mind Over Munch (She has a whole program she sells, but I find her videos really helpful)  https://www.youtube.com/user/MindOverMunch

My 600 pound Possible Life

I've been watching episodes of TLC's My 600 Pound Life.  My family doesn't understand my fascination with this show.  In some ways, it feels like "going to a meeting." It's a reality check for me because in my family, this is not just extreme television, it's actually possible.  I look to see how their bodies store fat differently when it has no where else to go.  I observe the pain they feel with ordinary movement--how they swing their body around because they can't actually lift their leg or brush the back of their hair.  They stop doing self-care like trimming their toe nails or buying new shoes as they shuffle from point A to point B.  Many have given up on shoes and just wear non-skid socks that don't protect them from dirt or water, but then they never go outside or venture far from their comfort zone.  I listen to their excuses and hear myself in them.  Then I remind myself that if I continue to make those excuses, this is the inevitable end to the road I'm on.

I stayed in my calorie budget today, but my food choices weren't excellent.  My version of a cheat day, I guess.  I felt triumphant about getting Brian and Jacob to go to the pool with me.  I got my 40 minutes of exercise in.  That felt good.  It wasn't hard to get out of the pool today. That felt even better.

Something Different

Day three in the pool.  I added some treading water.  My legs only felt like they weighed 2500 pounds instead of 5000 upon exiting the pool.  I know you're supposed to celebrate little victories, and I suppose that is one, but when you think of yourself in former athlete terms, getting out of the pool doesn't even hit the radar.  I'm coming to grips with the fact that I am not, at present, the athlete I was even a year ago. I'm something different and I have remember that so I continue to make good food choices.

Here We Go Again

My mother has been overweight for most of my life.  She was surprisingly unaffected by it.  She had good mobility, good blood work, lots of friends, my father adored her, she had the respect of her employer, she ran volunteer organizations, and it didn't seem to be something that affected her negatively.  She is 76 now and her weight has finally caught up with her.  She has lympadema in her legs, is on blood thinners, and no cartilage left in her knees. She is in pain most of the time and in a lot of pain when she has to walk. She injured her shoulder trying to take some weight off her knees by using a walker.  She's in a wheelchair now if she has to go any distance of more than about fifteen feet.  Even being in the wheelchair is painful because the lympadema and size of her legs keep her knees from bending properly. She desperately needs knee replacement surgery, but no one will operate on someone her size who is prone to blood clots. I hate seeing her in pain and not be able to fix it.

Which brings me to today.  My life has paralleled my mother's in many ways and been completely different in others. I've never been as heavy as she was/is, but I've seen over the years how easy it was for her to continue to gain gradually. Not everyone even has the ability to physically gain that much weight.  I am like her in this way, I have the same body type and metabolism as she does.  I don't want to end up in that kind of pain when I'm 76.  I just went back and reread my previous posts from ten years ago.  I could have written most of them today.  The difference is that today, I'm thirty-five pounds heavier than I was then.  I used to be really good at hiding my weight in a shapely, womanly figure.  I see more of my mother emerging as my shape is no longer just womanly.  It's crossed that line over into odd because the fat has run out of places to hide.  I have rolls that are in my way, I have to contort my body to buckle or tie my shoes, my knees hurt going up and down stairs and ladders, and I find myself shopping for clothing styles that hang differently--hide more. I wear sweaters when I'm hot so my arms won't show.  I used to hoard shoes because they didn't care if gained ten pounds.  Lately, I've been wearing lower heels because my weight just crushes down on my toes when I go high.

I know in a different way that losing weight for me is no longer about aesthetics with a nod to my health.  Now really is about my health and my future health. Yesterday, a Monday, was first day hell.  I didn't even plan to start yesterday.  I just decided to try and not sabotage myself, not continue bad habits that have resulted in the place I am now.  It was terrible.  The food was good, but sugar withdrawal is a bitch.  I went to the neighborhood pool and just walked in the water for thirty minutes.  I want to build up some baseline strength before subjecting my joints to exercise on land.  My legs felt like they weighed 5000 pounds when I exited the pool.  Within three hours I was sore.  As a former athlete and exercise instructor, I felt humiliated.  Still kinda do.  Last night hunger and pain woke me up.  All I wanted to do was go get a snack.  I got a drink of water and willed myself to go back to sleep.  It took over an hour.  Breakfast felt to me like a junkie getting a fix as my blood sugar level came back up.  I honestly don't know that it will get better, but I do know this is something I HAVE to do.

This is a current picture, taken at my son's wedding last September.  Thank goodness for spandex.  I left my daughter in the picture for comparison because she's just under the weight I "should" be.  She has my same build and is just about an inch taller (she'd already taken off her heels when this picture was taken.)  I'm grateful I don't have cankles, but nothing, including skinny jeans, is getting over those calves.