Indiana Jones and My Last Crusade

I'm a sucker for a great story, especially those with some magical element.  My first research paper in elementary school was about the Loch Ness Monster (no joke).  I will always choose a show about Area 51 over the Real Housewives of Anywhere.  I have read every Nora Roberts book that deals with something supernatural, and I know more about the legend of the Swamp Ape than any self-respecting person should.

I am also fascinated with history and archaeology.  I think it's endlessly interesting to look at the lives of people who have come before me, and try to assemble a story from whatever they've left behind.  I love Indiana Jones films (and not just because Harrison Ford is dreamy), Dan Brown novels, and any special on the History Channel that assembles interviews from historians, Popes, and Templars to explain something (however incomplete a conclusion these shows may yield).  


I also have loved the recent television series "Who Do You Think You Are?" where celebrities trace a part of their ancestry to find out more about their own mysterious past.  I'm fascinated by the use of birth and death records, marriage records, and military service records in the explanation of our families' pasts.


All of these stories are supported by clues, left behind in some form - an eyewitness account, a bible story, a journal, a sketchbook, a note on the back of a painting, or even your time card at work - because all of these things say something about a life lived, to those who look.  

A journal page from my honeymoon,
documenting our lunch in St. John, NB.

Over the past two and a half decades, I've attempted to keep my own journals and sketchbooks, to chronicle my life. These various methods of chronicle have included Franklin Planners, digital journals on my iPad, tiny sketchbooks that are pocket sized, and scads of letters and notes from friends dutifully chronicled in acid-free scrapbook boxes. I don't know who will care about my life after I'm gone, but if anyone does, there will be things to view.  Not as organized or thorough as I'd like, but they are there.  (Who will need this, I have no clue.  But it's there.)


In this, our digital age, it's no longer about just recording your thoughts and daily routines.  It's now about sharing them instantly, with pictures and video attached.  Why wait until we're gone to see what others are up to?  Facebook, Twitter, and my own favorite, Blogger, make it easy to know what's happening in someone's mind immediately.  


This blog is probably the most complete record I've ever made of how I felt about my body, my diet, and my health.  After all, except for a few Jenny Craig food journals from many years ago, I've spent most of my life acting like there wasn't a problem with my weight and health, so you're not likely to find much in my journals on the topic.  Most of the blog it is just witty, pedestrian chatter, but behind it all, there is a real person doing something life-changing - something that can bring me to tears of happiness or sorrow more easily than you may know.  The good thing is this:  writing the blog has really helped me to reflect, and I have already learned so much.  Here are a few of my discoveries (or truths, depending on how you look at it):

1. I have never paid as much attention to the size of my form as I am now.  I have always felt it was too big, even when it wasn't - but I didn't notice each change in its shape and use as I am now.  And I have never taken documentary photographs of my body every two weeks, and looked at them critically.
2. I have never read so many nutrition labels in my life with educated understanding.  I now look at calories, protein, fiber and carbohydrates very differently.
3. I have recently begun to silently observe the eating habits of those around me, and found that most of the people in my world eat very well.  This makes me feel like I will be successful in my quest to change my own habits, and not fall back into old, bad habits.
4. I'm more in touch with how I feel about every single thing I put in my stomach.  I see food as fuel, not as an emotional substitute for love, success, or happiness.
5. I know I'll never go back to the way I used to eat.  I will never again be so out-of-shape that I have to take a drastic measure like substituting shakes for my meals.

I love magical, science fiction inspired tales, filled with outcomes no one can predict.  And I am a sucker for anything unsolved or steeped in religion.  But this story, the story of my diet (and my life) is not magical or other-worldly.  It's real, with a real explanation for the seemingly-magical process of changing your large body into a smaller one.  Like Templar Knights, I believe deeply in that which I seek (my holy grail: a hot, non-diabetic bod).  Like the Loch Ness monster, it is still hidden under something dark and murky (layers of fat, earned over years of eating poorly).  Like Robert Langdon, I have learned to read the signs of my quest (your stomach is growling - make a shake!).  And like my beloved Indiana Jones, my favorite of them all, I will use everything at my disposal to find that which I seek in this, my Last Crusade:  a healthy life, lived in a great looking body.

My village people

They say that no man is an island.  No woman is an island, either - even when she feels as big as one.  Doing this diet is not something I am accomplishing on my own.  But, I'm not sure how many of you know that you've played a role in this, however small.


Of course, my sweet husband and stepson have been highly affected.  They are supportive and encouraging, and they do their best to tell me so.  But the affect on them is far greater than you think.  Since I began this diet, poor Max has had to listen to me talk about good carbs and saturated fats, proteins and veggies, and the virtues of eating better - while he's trying to enjoy his hot dog.  Paul has changed his eating habits too - and even taken to eating his dinner before I get home instead of doing it in front of me, even though that's not necessary.  


Even harder, though, is the fact that we don't go out to dinner anymore, really.  We don't order pizza, we don't share popcorn at the movies, and we never stop for Andy's Frozen Custard after a long day.  In essence, they have given up all of these things along with me - at least for the most part - and even more unbelievably, they have survived.


Speaking of eating out, that's a big change, too.  I hardly ever go to lunch with my friends at work anymore, and find myself working through the lunch hour while I sip my shake.  I miss the conversation, the laughter, and the company of my friends.  I just don't think I'm ready to go out to lunch and only drink my shake - I am afraid I'll slip and eat something I shouldn't, and so I don't go.  Right choice for my health and diet goals, but not such a great choice for my social side.


Beyond the people I see every day, I have gotten lots of messages from friends saying, "love the blog- keep it up!" or "great job - you look wonderful!"  These little notes remind me that I am doing something that matters, and that I need to stay committed.  They work - so thank you for all of them.


Some of you have shared more than just a quick message.  Recently, my friend Harv emailed me to share his dieting success, saying my saga was inspiring him. He has lost 17 lbs. by eating less calories and approaching food differently.  I can tell that he's struggling with the idea of this change, wondering how he became someone who eats to get full, rather than someone who eats for fuel.  But he's making great progress that he's inspired to do more.  I'm really proud of him.


Even around the office, there are lots of people sharing how my diet has inspired them.  One lady told me that she is finally recommitting to losing those last five pounds now.  Another friend decided to start this same diet, and is rocking it out every week with her shakes.  I didn't even go to the staff cake, cookie and tart "throw down" competition, because it was all terrible for me, and I had to stay away - and nobody made me feel bad at all.  

Mural by Maxfield Parrish

In some ways, I feel a bit like a pied piper - sharing these tidbits of knowledge about protein and ketosis, the virtues of non-soluble fibers, and the importance of eating your veggies - even when nobody really wants to hear them.  It's almost as if I have to keep saying it so I'll know - not really so they'll know - and they somehow understand that.


No matter what you may think, it does take a village for everything that matters.  I am lucky to have such an incredibly encouraging village - one that doesn't try and tempt me with cookies or look at me funny because I have terrible ketosis breath.  Instead, my village offers a sugar-free mint and mentions that my clothes are looking looser - and tries to keep me going.  In a world where people sometimes break you down just to make themselves feel better, I know how lucky I am to have this village.


So, thank you, my village people.  I literally couldn't do this without you.

Weekly Weigh In #4: Milestones A-Go-Go

This morning, I weighed in.  Here are the results:


I have lost 4 lbs. this week.  (Sweet.)


I have now lost a total of 20 lbs. in one month.  (Even sweeter.)  I have 80 lbs. to go before I am at my goal weight.


That means, for the record, I weigh 248lbs.  I am down from 268lbs. at the beginning of this saga.  (Again, so damn sweet.)


But, the truly amazing thing about this isn't just that I can do elementary level math (an accomplishment, trust me!).  The amazing thing is this:  I haven't been less than 250lbs. in YEARS.


I am more excited about this fact than I can adequately express!  It is a HUGE deal.  

When I think about this diet, and this new approach to food, I think about milestones.  There will be many moments along the way that are big... not just the end result.  Like the milestones in many European towns, they let you know how far you've come, and how far there still is to go.  So, here are a few things that are huge deals to me at this point - my milestones:


#1:  Today, while sitting in the doctor's office, waiting for my name to be called and trying my hardest not to let my blood pressure rise with the anxiety that comes on weigh-in days, I sunk into the plush leather sofa and automatically crossed my legs.  Just like that.  No plan, no active effort - they just - crossed.  It's important to note that I have not crossed my legs without thinking in recent memory.  Fat people just don't do this.  Add to the being fat part that I also have the world's worst knees, and crossing of the legs is not good for people with the world's worst knees - so I just don't.  I sit like a lady, ankles crossed, knees demurely together (hard to believe after the "Naked" post, I know...).  But I never cross my legs.  And today, I just did.  I almost cried when I realized what I was doing.

My backside is beginning to
disappear.  Amazing.

#2:  Another milestone can be seen in this week's photos.  While I find them to be horribly unflattering for a million reasons (including the harsh flourescent lighting), I now have proof of two things: horizontal stripes are never good on anyone, and my jawline is coming back.  I am so happy to see my jawline emerging again.  It's like that old friend from high school that you knew pretty well but mostly took for granted.  You didn't make them feel special, you just knew they'd always be around.  Then, after graduation, they go on walkabout in Australia for a few years and nobody hears from them again.  Only then do you miss that old friend.  Well, that's how I treated my jawline.  But now, it's coming back, and I can totally see it.  My head no longer has the distinct, rotund shape of a mango when my hair is pulled up, and I like it.  I like it quite a lot.  And I will never take my jawline for granted again.

In the photos I can really see how much
my face has slimmed down.  Wow.

#3:  The other milestone change is far from my face - it's at the other end of my body, in fact.  The shoes you see in these photos are black suede loafers from Target, that I recently got on the clearance rack for $6.  They are nothing fancy.  They are not a brand name, and nobody else wanted them - which is why they were on the clearance rack, I'd imagine.  It's what they are NOT that is amazing - they are not ultra-padded, seriously supportive, orthopedic, mail-order only, intensely-expensive-because-they-have-to-be shoes.  Those are the shoes of fat people. I own many of these shoes.  And now, I am now able to comfortably wear even the clearance rack shoes.  Not only will this make my suitcases lighter when I travel, but it will enable me to choose from a wider selection of adorable footwear than I have in a long time.  Carrying around 20 extra pounds on your body takes a major toll on your feet - and that's why the heavy duty shoes are a must for those struggling with their weight.  I now know that the lighter I get, the cuter my shoes will be.  That is an immutable fact.


I knew when I started this that some major things would happen - I'd get further away from diabetes, look better in my clothes, and feel more energetic.  I'd add years to my life, and light years to its quality.  I'd feel more confident, more self-aware, and set a much better example for my growing family.  And I'd even like myself a little more, which is pretty great.  I had no idea I'd start crossing my legs and wearing cuter shoes, though - and I certainly had no idea it would happen so soon.


Some of my milestones will be like my horizontal-striped shirt: big and obvious.  Some of them will be more like my new shoes: rather small and unassuming, and only fully appreciated by me.  But the great thing about milestones, both big and small, is that there's always another one around the corner, with a new destination written upon it. 

Naked

The Three Graces, at the Louvre.  Photograph by my Father.

I've always been very comfortable with nudity.  I don't feel embarrassed by it, and I don't really think it's an issue.  When I see someone in the nude on television or in a movie, it's not a big deal... it's just the human figure.

I believe that this comes from a lifetime of figure drawing classes, where we stared at an undraped model and drew from life, day in and day out, through all of college.  I also think it comes from working in and around the visual arts, particularly museums, where paintings and sculptures of the human form are plentiful - and beautiful.  We know, as art professionals, that the only way for a student to master the form is to draw it from life - it's a course of study that's been around for a very long time, and it works.

Ingres' Odalisque

Not everyone is this comfortable with nudity - including their own.  I've hosted dozens of groups at museums where they respectfully asked us to avoid frontal-nudity works with their young students.  I've seen people I respect become very uncomfortable around someone wearing clothing that's sheer or scant.  Remember Janet Jackson's breast at the Super Bowl?  Have you known people who are uncomfortable with breastfeeding mothers? Not everyone, especially in America, is comfortable with nudity.  I have no judgment of these people - to each his own.  I am simply in the other camp.

I remember being more daring when I was younger, and visiting the nude beach at Playa Linda in Florida with my sweet friend, Shaun (sorry Mom).  I was so nervous - having never done this, I didn't know if I'd have the guts to be naked, too, or I'd wimp out.  As Shaun and I walked up the steps and across the platform that spanned the dunes, we came over the other side and were greeted by an older gentleman who looked like Santa Claus - but naked.  "Good morning!" he bellowed - and we looked at each other with a smile - holy cow!  Santa was naked!  We found our spot, and to my surprise, everyone at the beach wasn't perfect - all body types surrounded us, at all ages.  And by leaving our swimsuits on, we stood out like a black fly on a white ceiling.  Eventually, we found our courage, even if it was only when laying face-down on our blanket.


At home, after bathing, I'm not one to immediately dress.  I am comfortable in the bathroom without my nightgown for a bit, and don't feel terribly awful when I catch my reflection in the mirror.  Now, let's be clear - with other people living in my home, particularly a 14-year old boy, I don't wander around in the buff by any means.  We don't have a "Sex and the City"-esque Charlotte and Harry situation (i.e. naked man on a white couch - gross), but I am comfortable without my clothes, and I know exactly what I look like.

These days, there are only two people who get to see me naked.  My sweet husband, and my massage therapist.  Today, when I went for my massage, my kind and talented masseur said to me, as he worked on my lower back, "your waist is getting smaller!"  I grinned into the face donut, knowing it was true, and loving that he mentioned it.  My sweet husband has also said, more than once as he gently pats my caboose, "there's less here for me to grab."  I love that, too.


But, there's another kind of naked I'm feeling these days - far from Playa Linda.  Writing this blog, and sharing not only my actual weight, but my emotional state leaves me, well, naked.  I can't really hide anything here - or cheat on the diet - because those damn numbers won't lie.  I could sneak a quick snack when nobody's looking, but at weigh-in time, it'll show.  And then, I'll have to explain to you all (and myself) why I didn't lose that week.  And the knowledge of this keeps me honest.  There's something inherently freeing in walking through work with a plastic bottle that holds my shake - it's declaring to everyone, "I'm dieting!  I know I'm fat!  I'm working on it!"  It's the knowledge that I have something to fix and that I see it that leaves me particularly naked these days - to all who know.


In that nakedness, I am finding strength.  Knowing everyone is on my side, hoping I'll do well is particularly helpful for a girl like me - one notorious for starting things and not finishing them.   


I've joked with my friends that if I were thin and fit, I'd run around naked all the time.  Please don't worry - it's not really going to happen.  (For this, you should be thankful.)  But if the day comes where I look fantastic in the buff, you'll know by the smile on my face.

Burgers from heaven?

Recently, I caught the charming animated film, "Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs" on HBO.  It was always a book I loved, but I never caught the movie.  The story, as portrayed in the film, is about a geeky but lovable inventor who creates a machine that goes into the clouds, and converts the clouds into food, that falls to the earth.  The town is showered with whatever food has been programmed in - which is a lovely change from the sardines that the town folk usually eat.


These people who eat nothing but sardines suddenly find hamburgers falling into their hands, and they joyfully nibble on the perfectly made food landing in their lap, literally.  They love it - especially the mayor.  As the story progresses, people begin requesting foods they love - pancakes with butter and syrup, ice cream for a special birthday treat, chicken, hot dogs - everything.

Eventually, the machine starts to malfunction and the food comes down, bigger and faster.  The people are eating more and more - especially the mayor - and getting bigger and bigger.  By the movie's end, a tornado of spaghetti and dangerous projectile meatballs threatens to kill everyone.  The hapless inventor and intrepid weather girl have to risk everything to save the town - and stop the gigantic food from falling and killing all their friends and family.


I can't help but think there's some social commentary for those looking to change their diets in this lovely film.  The more food they had, the more they wanted.  Eventually, the mayor becomes so fat that he had to ride in a scooter.  He gets painted as the villain, the one who wants more and more, and cannot stop.  No wonder fat people feel like they're doing everything wrong.  (It's not the movie's fault, it's our perception as  society.)


In real life, you get some other side effects when you eat with brazen abandon - diabetes, muscle pain, heart disease, and a host of other things that make your life uncomfortable (and shorter).  In a cartoon, you don't get those things.  And I don't live in a cartoon.


I think the people of sardine town have a lot in common with those of us restricting ourselves in our diet.  Especially while on this diet.  They had sardines, I have shakes.  They craved variety - I do too.  They took that variety too far.  I will not.  I absolutely will not.


In the end, the town saves itself - they make it through the terrible onslaught of food being hurled at them from every direction.  I will too.  I will resist the bagel breakfasts at work and the ice cream trucks that play music as they pass.  I will leave the Oreos on the shelf at the store, and drink my shakes.  And I'll do it because it's the most important thing I can do for my health and future.  


Like the geeky inventor, I'll fix the problem I've created, and live happily ever after - even if that means life with a few less burgers.

Channeling the Rolling Stones...

I can hear the tune in my head...




You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.




Today was one of those days when I didn't get what I wanted, even though I tried.


First, I wanted food.  So, I deviated from the all-shake diet when I found myself hungry and seated with colleagues at a restaurant.  I ordered a salad with turkey, and had no carbs.  I had very little dressing and a lot of greens.  And I enjoyed the ritual of eating with my peeps.


And then, after we finished, I felt horrible.  Both physically and mentally.  What the HELL was I thinking?  Didn't I just write about getting more vigilant yesterday?  THIS was not vigilant.  And not what I wanted.

The other thing is this: I ate SALAD.  Not pie.  Not a burger.  Not a carb in sight, in fact.  I'm now critical of my salad.  Hideous.  Just hideous.


In the end, though, I think I got what I needed.  I ate, and was unfulfilled.  I have been dreaming of food for weeks, and now I have eaten - and I didn't really enjoy the feeling I got after.  Too full, too guilty.  And now, I have no dreams of deviating from the shakes, because I know there's no joy in it.  No real fulfillment.  


I now know I'll be happy with the shakes, because it's the right thing to do.  And that's what I really needed.

Weekly Weigh In #3: Yay and Boo.

I weighed in today.  I lost 2 lbs.  I now weigh 253 and have lost 16 lbs. in total.


Right after my weigh in, I went to a class on emotional eating and food triggers, and while waiting for my class, I texted my sweet husband to share the news.  It went something like this:


"I lost 2 lbs.  Yay and boo."


Because I should have lost more.  And I know why I didn't.







Last week, I had lunch with a colleague, and drank my shake while I had a garden salad (lettuce, tomato, cucumber, onion, and oil & vinegar dressing).  I also had a piece of cheese three times, on three different days.  (I actually considered not telling you this - or saying it was only 2 times.  Then, I remembered we're keeping it real.)  It wasn't the salad that got me, it was the cheese.  And that, my friends, is the difference in losing 2 lbs. and losing 4lbs. on any given week.  It's that simple.


I sat there waiting for class to begin, thinking about the weight loss that could-have-been, and realized that I just have to buckle down.  I want to get to my goal weight as soon as possible so I can get back to eating food, not "product."  I was bummed, but had a renewed vigilance in my heart.


Class began.  Elizabeth, the PA in the office, began talking about emotional eating and food triggers.  All of what she said makes sense.  It's all correct.  And a few statements stood out even more than others.

Life changing idea #1:  Emotional hunger (not physical hunger) can't ever be satisfied.  You can eat and eat, and you'll still want more.  You will overstuff yourself, with all the wrong foods.  And when you eat for the wrong reasons, you'll never get full. 


I know this is true because I am absolutely an emotional eater.  Food is my drug of choice.  I have not made good decisions where food is concerned in the past, but now I'm aware, and doing better.  I remember very clearly having a fight with someone on the phone not that long ago, and immediately diving into the pantry, looking for something to distract me.  I can't do that again.  So - yay on that one, because now I know.


When feeling like eating due to emotional hunger, you can either confront the feeling, or distract yourself.  Confronting - or, talking out loud to myself about it - might make me look (more) crazy.  (I need no help in this area.)  So I'm going for distracting.  I'll find something to do that's like a reward to myself - some way of treating myself nice like a bubble bath, writing a blog post, or spending 30 minutes outside taking photos with my new kick-ass camera.  But I won't eat.


Life changing statement #2:  Food triggers are all around us.  Identify them, and kick them out.


Food triggers are those things that we always associate with food.  Movies = popcorn.  Birthdays = cake.  Baseball games = hotdogs and beer.  As Elizabeth talked about these triggers, and that many of them come from childhood, I began to feel less like a freak, and more like a person who has always been battling an issue I didn't even know I had.  Yay again for realizing!


In the past 3 weeks, I have dealt with many food trigger moments - these EXACT ones she described, in fact! - and done so with grace.  We saw Harry Potter 7.2 this past weekend... and I didn't have popcorn, even though everyone else did.  We decided not to go to a baseball game on 4th of July because I wasn't strong enough yet to say no to hotdogs and beer.  

Birthday cakes in particular are pure trigger.  We start out as babies, smushing sugary cake into our faces because it's cute.  The cakes go from traditional to ridiculous, and sometimes taste terrible - but it isn't a birthday without cake!  Even when we don't want to, we get a cake for people who don't need them.  It's amazing how much of a trigger this one is.


As I sat listening, and feeling like I eventually could modify my thinking about food, Elizabeth dropped the most life changing statement of all:


"You will never again be able to eat the way you did before this program."


Boo.  Big fat double boo.


There is a part of me that thought I could get to my goal weight, and go directly to Five Guys.  That thin people had it easy.  That it wouldn't be work.  I know this is bull, but there was a part of me that wanted it to be true.  But the fact is that Elizabeth is exactly right.  If I DO go back to the way I used to eat, I'll find myself again at this weight, and struggling with how to lose it.  And I'll pick up a side dish of diabetes and heart disease next time around for fun.  So, I have to rethink the importance and use of food in my life completely.  And this kind of change is not something I was thinking about, planning for, or ready to accept.  


Until today.

Because today, I realize that if we set up the right rules, my stepson won't ever build bad triggers that land him in a very restrictive diet program when he's just about to turn 39:

"No eating in the living room!" actually means "No TV-watching trigger!"  

"Skip the popcorn this time!" actually translates as "Have water or some carrot sticks at the movies instead!"  

In many ways, it seems we're predisposed - almost hard-wired - for some of these habits.  But that can change.  I am changing it.  For all of my family.

Do I wish I had lost more this week?  You betcha.  I'm now at 253 lbs., with 16 lbs. lost.  I wish it was more this week.


Boo.


Was today a success?  You betcha.  I'm now at 253 lbs., with 16 lbs. lost.  


Yay.

Penny for your thoughts...

You wouldn't believe the things that overweight people think.


On new year's eve last year, I sat in front of my sweet boyfriend, as he clutched a diamond engagement ring in his hand and tearfully asking me to be his bride.  I was overwhelmed with happiness and emotion.  He was saying, essentially, "I want to be with you forever, and I love you."  What girl doesn't want to hear that from her beloved?  What girl doesn't dream about someone professing permanent, lifelong partnership and kisses?  In that moment, I had two thoughts:  "I really love this man" and "I hope my finger isn't too fat for that beautiful ring."


I cannot express the relief in my heart when he slipped the ring on my finger without problem.  The fear gone, I went back to enjoying the moment.


These are the secret thoughts of fat people.  We have them all day long, even if we don't realize it.  Here are mine.


I love to travel - I love seeing loved ones, exploring new places, and learning about other cultures.  I often travel for work.  But, when traveling by plane, I hope and pray I'll be sitting next to thin people, so that only one of us (me) spills over onto the armrest.  It's always a bit of a gamble - will the seat belt fit me, or will I have to ask for an extender?  The flight attendants are usually very sympathetic about the extender, and try and slip it to me behind the seat, low, at my lap, so nobody sees.  (I know they're trying to be nice - discreet, even - but the jig is up.  People can see that I'm fat.)


And once I get to where I'm going, I immediately start scanning:  am I walking around this town?  If so, is my hotel uphill?  Where can I get a cab when my feet inevitably start hurting because they're carrying so much weight, they can't take it for long?


When walking around these wonderful places, I always have a camera.  However, I've resisted buying heavy cameras - or carrying heavy anythings in my bag - because I can't take the heavy bag.  (For a photography junkie like me, that's a real sacrifice.)  It's too much strain carrying lots of weight AND a heavy purse.  And you won't catch me wearing a cross-body bag.  I'm usually convinced the strap has no chance of ever being long enough to get all the way around me.

Restaurants are also hard.  There are two enduring themes here:  "What can I eat that won't make me look like I eat too much all the time?" and "Can I fit in that booth?"  (There's no elegant way to get in to the booth when you're fat, either...)  At mealtimes, I'm notorious for spilling food on my shirt during meals.  It's not because I'm messy.  It's because my body is large.  A napkin on my lap makes no sense - the food just hits me in the shirt.


Maybe because of all these things, there are other things we just stop doing.  


We stop crossing our legs.  We get more pedicures, not because we're vain, but because we can't paint our toenails without holding our breath.  


We don't wear bright colors or patterns on our clothes, because at some point, they look silly covering such a large surface area.  (And, black is slimming, right?)  


We don't know what to do with our hands, because our arms don't quite make it across the front of our bodies with the gentle drape of a slender person's limbs.  


We avoid the heat.  We don't even bother to buy shorts or bathing suits after awhile, because we're not going to the places where they get worn.  (Try living in Florida for 18 years as a fat person - it's really difficult not to wear shorts there.  But we do it.)  


We look in catalogs, but only focus on shoes and accessories, because we can't really catalogue shop without making huge mistakes or sending things back.  And when we do find clothes that fit, we buy them in multiples - always dark colors - whether they're flattering or not.  


And after we get engaged, we immediately begin stressing out about wearing a white gown and having all eyes on us for one, short moment.


Because all of this is true for me, I am celebrating the small victories.  This week, I sat in my favorite reading chair to watch a movie with my sweet husband.  Usually, my hips touch both sides of the chair.  This week, there was a little room.  That's a big deal.  But I think the best is yet to come...  


For the Christmas of 2012, we are hoping to have our holiday in Hawaii.  The last time I was there, my luggage got lost and I had to buy some clothes to get me through until it arrived.  Finding plus size clothes in Oahu is pretty difficult - we ended up at Walmart.  I had trouble climbing and exploring around Volcanoes National Park, and felt sweaty all the time.  I hated the idea of a Hawaiian dress, because it was far too bright and WAY too sleeveless.  And sunbathing or playing in the pool was just embarrassing.  


This time, however, I fully expect that I will sit comfortably in a seat with no extender all the way there.  I'll enjoy he beach, and not sweat as much (while standing still) or feel nearly as uncomfortable as I did last time.  I'll eat pineapple and (maybe) poi without spilling it on myself, and I'll dance with my handsome husband on the beach.  His arms will be wrapped around me - further than they have been in the past.  I'll have pretty coral toes (which I painted myself) and a bright Hawaiian dress for the luau.  I'll sparkle with happiness, almost as much as my engagement ring (and wedding band).  And I'll have a whole host of new memories to take the place of those old, fat thoughts.  There just won't be room for them anymore.

Keepin' it real

I learned about this diet from a woman who volunteers at the museum where I work.  She had great success with it, and recommended it to me.  She's been encouraging me at every turn, and trying to give me tips on how to do this successfully.  Recently, she emailed me and said: 

"Is someone taking a photo of you every week?  I wish someone had done that for me.  It's a great way to track your progress."

So, I handed my sweet husband the camera, and asked that he take a photo of me every two weeks, since we missed the first week.  And, he did.  So here they are.

Let's start with the before photos.  The most recent images I have before starting are at my wedding, which was June 11.  I'm wearing a white dress (most unslimming color ever) and immediately after the wedding went on a cruise where we ate a ton - so it's possible I weighed slightly more when I started the diet.

My Dad is so adorable.

And from the side - during our vows,
with our friend Tom, the officiant.

Clearly, I am happy - it's my wedding!  But as I look at the photos from the day, I often  think, "I wish I was thinner."  My friends have said how beautiful I looked and how happy I seem - I hope all that is true, because I believe you can be beautiful and overweight.  But I'd be lying if said I wasn't already mentally planning the one-year anniversary photos of handsome hubby and I - with me in the same dress, taken in, after losing my weight.  A girl's gotta have goals, you know.

And, after two weeks, losing 14 lbs, I look like this:

I've been told there's already a difference.

And from the side.

I'm not entirely sure I see the changes yet, but I feel them.  And it's getting better.

So, yeah.  I'm gonna post photos.  Because that, my friends, is keepin' it real.

Weekly Weigh In #2: Hallelujah

This week, I weighed in for the second time.  I lost 4 lbs.  Woo hoo!


But that's the short version.  Here's what really happened.


I knew I was going to weigh in on Monday this week, one whole day earlier than usual.  I knew it and I was worried that the one, single day would make a difference in my numbers.  As if somehow, all my weight loss happened in that last 24 hours, and I was somehow messing it up by going too early.  I thought about this the whole way to work, and actually considered going the next day, just in case, instead.  But I didn't.  I went to work, and then around 11:15am, left to go weigh in.  

I purposefully didn't drink much water, afraid it would make me bloat.  (Am I really this neurotic?)  I arrived, heart racing, and signed in.  I filled out my form, and waited to be called in.  I removed my watch, my scarf, my earrings.  Heck, I would have gotten completely naked if I thought they'd let me - and if I thought I'd have a better chance at weight loss.  (Yeah, neurotic seems right.)


When my name was called, I went in, and stepped on the scale.  And then, the numbers came up:  255.  I thought I had lost 3 lbs, until I was corrected by the sweet, smiling nurse:  "you've lost 4 lbs!  Great job!"  She was so happy, and so was I!  We then went into the exam room, and she took my blood pressure, and informed me it was a little high.  I told her that I was just a little excited about my weight loss, and she smiled.  I listened to her, we talked about exercise and water, and then I got my product and left.  I was smiling ear to ear as I walked down to the classroom for this week's class, where I waited for 10 minutes.


In that 10 minutes, I sat still, thinking about the craziness of the morning.  At least, it was crazy in my head.  But as I sat still with my thoughts, I realized why I had been so crazy.  I have been on dozens of diets that worked great in the first week, and then failed to persist.  I worked equally as hard the first week as I had the subsequent weeks, but it made no difference... the diets eventually failed me, sometimes as soon as the second week in.  And that residual heartbreak was circling around my thoughts all morning, undetected, like vultures up above the tree line.  I was afraid, for no reason I can articulate, all the sacrifice and shakes would not yielded any results.  I was so worried about it, that even my blood pressure was a complete wreck.  The more I identified my crazy, the less crazy I felt.


As class started, I began to get answers to the question of why.  Why had this worked, where other things had failed?  Why had these shakes worked?  Why was I successful?  And even more still, why was I so neurotic about this?


Here's why.


The shakes are mostly protein, and barely any carbs.  The body burns two fuel sources:  fat (called triglycerides) and sugar (called glucose).  Where does sugar come from?  Carbohydrates.  So, if you don't give your body any new glucose to burn, it has to burn the fat you've already got.  And that's what I was doing.  Burning fat.  Not muscle, but fat.


Sweet lord, I was burning fat.  Hallelujah.


I also learned at class that my crazy idea of not drinking water too much before weighing in was not neurotic - 2 cups of water weighs one pound!  Who knew?!  Guess who will always be visiting the ladies' room before each weigh-in?  Me!


Everything that was happening to me was scientifically designed to happen.  It wasn't a gamble - it was planned.  That's why it's working.


So, I continue to drink gallon after gallon of water, and drink my three shakes a day.  I will keep going, even when I'm stressed (and want an Almond Joy so bad, I could collapse) or emotional (and want a burger so much, I'd give up government secrets just for the bun).  It's still hard.  But it's also still worth it.  And, it's still working.

Promises

Before starting this diet, I attended an information session to learn more about the program, and how it will work.  At this meeting, the doctor talked about the physiology behind the program, the reason it works for so many people, and some of the side effects of ketosis (the process of elevating the level of ketones in the body, and using them for energy - the state I am currently in as a person on this diet).  These side effects include being cold all the time (I'm not there yet), having bad breath (hubby keeps handing me mints - bless him!) and possibly losing your hair (also not happening to me yet).  Needless to say, I got nervous.

And then, they showed the before and after images of those who have done well - but they didn't just show the before and after photos - these people were THERE, in the flesh.  Their fat selves on the wall via projection, their thin selves standing there, seemingly unaffected and happy.  They talked about the challenges and the benefits, and smiled at us knowingly, as if to say, "we survived.  You can too."

At that point, the deal was sealed. 

Upon seeing these people, the entire room stood at the end, walked down the hall to the doctor's office, and set up their appointments for pre-diet blood work and doctor's visits, ready to start.

At that meeting, some things were said - they sounded like facts - or even, promises that we could cling to in our upcoming work.  And friends, let me tell you, not all of them are true.

Promise #1:  It's not that hard.

Yes, it is.  This is hard.  Every time I sit down to drink a shake in the proximity of an eater, I hate this diet.  I hate the shake.  I want the food - whatever food the eater is currently conquering - and I hate the shake.  It's especially difficult when the shake is a new flavor that I end up hating, that tastes so foul, I want to throw it into the woods with great force.

If we could be a little more honest, we could rewrite this promise to say: "It'll start out hard, but in time, it does get easier."  I can tell you this version is true.  

Last night, I picked up my sweet stepson at the mall, and as he walked toward the car, I noticed the bag of popcorn he was carrying - sweet, warm, buttery popcorn.  He was enjoying it so much - having just gotten his braces off, this is a pleasure he hasn't had in awhile - and as he climbed into the car, I thought, "oh, dang."  He said, "hi!" with a smile, and I smiled back as we drove away, talking about his friends and what they were up to.  As he munched, I found myself smiling because he was enjoying it SO much...  and then I realized, I wasn't hungry.  I didn't want it, really - I just would have eaten it because it was THERE.  Around this time, he looked at me and said, "is this too smelly?  Is it driving you nuts?"  The honest concern in his eyes and voice was so touching, I only grinned and said, "it's fine, sweetheart.  Enjoy it."  And I meant it.

Promise #2:  You won't miss food that much.

This is absolute bunk.  I miss food every day.  I miss the act of cooking.  I miss the flavors and textures.  I miss the choices.  I miss chewing.  

I also realize that food is EVERYWHERE, constantly trying to get into my tummy:  on television, billboards, in my pantry, in magazines - it's never ending.  Case in point:  driving home last night, we passed a truly magical sight:  a Five Guys Burgers and Fries is opening near us.  This is huge, because I LOVE their food.  The absolute BEST burger of my life.  I am so excited about this restaurant opening, I get giddy at the thought of all those hand cut fries everywhere and peanut shells all over the place - oh, the joy of it!  

But last night, as Max munched on popcorn and I drove by the not-yet-redy Five Guys, I wondered, "when will I get to have that burger?  How long will this part of the diet take?"  I felt sad and kind of lost for a few minutes at the thought of never having another amazing Five Guys burger.

Movies are also out to get me.  This morning, I thought about today's blog, and I felt a bit uninspired.  So, I thought, "I'm going to watch Julie and Julia to get my blog mojo flowing."  That would have been a brilliant idea if it wasn't ALL about food... watching Amy Adams fry up all that butter and hearing Meryl Streep sweetly utter, "bon appetit" seemed simply impossible for a moment.  

And then I thought - I love that story.  I love how cute Julia and Paul Child are portrayed.  I love seeing Paris and New York City.  I love SO much about this film... do I deprive myself of food on the screen, too?  Doesn't that seem awful to do?  

  

Promise #3:  If you follow the plan, it will work.

So far, I have to say, this is true.  Last week, I lost 10 lbs.  I don't know how much I've lost this week, but I do know that I haven't eaten anything except my shakes and puddings.  So, while I feel a bit bloated right now, and I'm not sure if I've lost anything this week, logically I know I must have.

The doctor suggested we buy a scale and keep it at home, stating that frequent weighers maintain their weight much more than those who avoid the numbers.  He said to get a digital scale, so my sweet husband ventured out and got one.  As soon as he got it home, I tore it from the box and popped in a battery, and hopped on.  I couldn't wait to see what it would say!  When I looked down at the number, I was up 2 lbs over my weight last week - WHAT?!  The smile gone, the thoughts  in my head were now horrid:  

WHAT?  Up 2 lbs.?  What the...

Why the hell am I doing this, if it's not working?  

Where's the popcorn!? 

I want to eat everything!

And then I realized, it meant nothing.  I hadn't calibrated the machine.  I moved too fast.  I hadn't done anything wrong.  And I calmed myself.

In truth, I do that a lot. In fact, moving too fast might be part of why I'm overweight.  Maybe if I thought more before I ate, I'd make better choices.  This was a powerful lesson.

Tomorrow, I weigh in, and will then come home and calibrate my scale to match.  I will buy more product and continue.  I will struggle.  It will be hard.  But it will also be week 3, and I may find it is easier still.  And eventually, I will reintroduce food into my life - when it's the right time.

Of all the things people keep promising me about this diet process, I now only believe some of them.  I believe I'll be healthier.  I believe I'll look better.  I believe I'll eventually eat food again - and I believe I'll enjoy it.  But what I've learned already is so much more important that what I believe.  I've learned that you can't ignore your health.  I used to pretty much ignore my body's needs, and writing about those needs now forces me to process those thoughts, and connect them to the bigger picture of my life.  I've learned I'm stronger than I thought, and can make good choices.  And I have learned that the people who love me are going through this, too, and need to be given just as much credit for my success as I will.

So, whether it's popcorn, burgers, or a movie I love, I need to remember that these things are always going to be around, and I am always going to be in control of my reactions to them.  I promise.