Stretch marks, Butt Eating, and Bread Sticks, Oh MY!

Thanks to some wonderful comments on my post yesterday, (and God, of course), last night was a lovely, non-weight-gaining or diet-trashing, dinner with my friends. I was tempted. I waffled back and forth. I looked for a good reason, anything at all, to truly justify poor choices rather than healthy ones. But the health nut in me won, and I was down .6 on the scale this morning!!

I also had a wicked headache this morning, which I haven't faced in a couple of weeks. Food additives, anyone?

So I opened my menu and saw several dishes that I've loved in the past. They were loaded with cheeses, cream, and white-white pasta. Mmmm.

I watched as people picked out what they were going to order. Many were obsessed with what everyone else was having. Could it be that I'm not the only one at this table who is fighting an internal war right now?

I'd read somewhere that I should order first, before I could toss around others' choices and let that influence mine. But that backfired, because one of the other ladies, who is usually very restrictive in what she eats, ordered a bowl of Alfredo sauce as an appetizer to go with her bread sticks before we even got to dinner orders. If she's throwing all caution to the wind, maybe I should too...

In the end, I opted for chicken breasts (not a usual part of my daily fare) with asparagus, tomatoes, and broccoli. I also asked for my salad with the dressing on the side, and pick off all of the croutons. And when it came time for one of the ladies to pass around slices of her homemade chocolate raspberry cheesecake, I accepted a very small one and enjoyed every last little morsel.

I left comfortable, not stuffed, and was hungry by bedtime. Which, reminded me of a couple of conversations that went around the table during dinner:

Somehow we ended up discussing our stretch marks, and other lovely aspects of mothering (we were there for a baby shower). I am not alone in the road map all over my abdomen, apparently.

Then one of the ladies mentioned how she tries to go to bed hungry every night because Oprah said that if we go to bed hungry, our bodies eat our butt's fat cells while we sleep. This was said by one of the thinner ladies in the group. Hmmm, maybe she's thin for a reason??

This struck me because so many of us food-a-holics like to think that we're heavy because of our genes, or bad luck, or a misalignment of the stars. What I'm finding over and over again, is that thin people work at it. Even my ridiculously skinny husband intentionally limits himself on a daily basis.

Above all, I'm patting myself on the back for realizing (FINALLY!) that eating out does not mean that I should gorge myself. And that no food is so special, or "free", or so limited in availability that I must eat it "now or never". So here I head, into my third week of 95% clean eating, and I'm feeling very, very good about it.

Big, Huge, Stinking Bum(mer)

Did my 'weigh myself only once per week' backfire? I stepped on that glorious wretch of a device this morning to find a .2 GAIN!!! What the heck is up with that?

My food was so clean this week. I exercised, I drank water, I ate like a rodent on a rampage. And I was expecting a least a couple of pounds to fall away....Now I'm wondering if I shouldn't just go back to weighing every day; and here's why:

We went to dinner last night at Ruby Tuesdays. I poured over the menu, looking at all of those lovely entrees loaded with cheese, creamy sauces, and tender meats. And I chose the salad bar. THE SALAD BAR. I had 2 or 3 plates loaded with romaine, spinach, chickpeas, soy beans, olives, carrots, peppers, mushrooms, and drizzled with LIGHT dressings. I also ordered their guacamole appetizer, which, by the way, was incredible.

After I was stuffed with salad greens, I ate some of the guacamole. It came with corn chips (I had a couple of hand fulls), salsa, and pico de gallo. It was fabulous, but everyone else was stuffed by the time it came (our server must have thought we wanted it for dessert??) so I probably ate more than I should have, hoping to clean my plate. That darn club won't let me go!

There was just no way I could finish it all, so I ended up packing away about half of it, and they sent us home with a refill of chips.

So the chips were a little salty, and so was the pico. My salad dressings were too, but nothing like the Amy's Tomato soup I had the other day. So, do I get to blame the gain on more salt than I usually eat. Some crazed magnetic pull that effects scale readings in my neighborhood (was there some sort of lunar event recently?). I need something! Anything. To justify this nonsense. Humph. If I had been weighing myself all week, perhaps I would have seen a bit of a loss prior to the salt-scepade.

The worst part of all of this, is that I have a fabulous dinner to go to with my Bible study ladies tonight at the Olive Garden. My plans (prior to my evil-scale-reading-rebellious-thoughts) were to order soup and salad, and then enjoy a small slice of the cheesecake one of the ladies is making for us.

Then I weighed this morning. What do I want now? 10 baskets full of bread sticks all for moi, 3 or 4 bowls full of salad dripping with dressing, the creamiest, cheesiest entree they have, and a HUGE honkin slice of that cake. I obviously need some help. Some prayers. An intervention. A one on one with my Creator. That would be nice :)

I Will NOT get on that scale!!!

I always sleep with some water on my bedside table; thirst can strike at any time, right? Or a fire, or a coughing kid, or insomnia which requires a little squirt of melatonin followed by a good rinse.

My water is serving another purpose now. If I drink some before I get out of bed in the morning, then I render any scale readings (should I lose my resolve to wait until Wednesday mornings) inaccurate. And this, my friends, is perfect for the OCD person in me who won't settle for an off scale reading.

I had to guzzle that water this morning, because I WANT TO KNOW!!!! I tried on some pants I am hoping to wear without looking like a streetwalker. Not yet. I looked in the mirror. Still puffy. I am hunting for encouragement here.

So I am sitting here trying to come up with some NSVs. It turns out there are quite a few:

• When I get out of bed in the morning, my feet don't hurt anymore. It used to be quite painful to start walking around for the day.
• I can wear something other than this one pair of black stretch pants that would fit an elephant (if an elephant so desired).
• I am not hiding as much as I was.
• I was able to traipse all around Disney World while we were there last month and fit all the rides, and enjoy the fun with my kids. This is a priceless memory for me.
• I have been eating out and ordering healthy foods. I have been eating salads galore, and fresh fruits. I haven't touched a hydrogenated fat, artificial color or flavor, or nitrite. Nearly 98% of my calories the last two weeks have been life-giving, disease-fighting foods.
• I still have hope.
• I am exercising reasonably.

I can wait to weigh another 48 hours, right? And although I'm hoping for a nice, big loss, I can cope if it's not, because I know that each day that I live and eat this way, is one more day and another step toward lifelong fitness.

Just a Sliver, Please!

I did it. I went a whole week eating like a crazed semi-vegetarian health nut. All whole grains (in limited quantities), tons of fruits, heaps of leafy greens, nuts, beans, and NO JUNK!!! I'm so proud of myself- and my local sewage system for handling the end results, eh hem.

The payoff? A sweet 6.4 lb loss this week. How cool is that? I know next week won't show such a nice, big loss, but I'd settle for 2 or 3! And the wonderful thing is that I think it can really happen. But we shall see...

Tonight was a test for me. I attend a weekly bible study with a group of fabulous ladies who, for the most part, are free of the food issues that plague me. Each week one of us will bring in a dessert to share. Sometimes fresh fruit shows up too, or like tonight, two different people will bring a treat in. The selection this evening included a home made pumpkin cake with cream cheese icing, and a plate of freshly baked home made chocolate chip cookies.

I watched and silently debated while a friend cut pieces and passed the servings around. I hemmed and hawed. Do I have a little slice and enjoy it? There's real pumpkin in there and that's a veggie. I could pass, and it wouldn't be the end of the world. I have been doing so well. Why mess with success? But it is a special event; it's not like I have a whole cake lying around the house begging me to finish it off, right? Hmmmm. What to do, what to do.

"Kate, would you like a slice?" I was out of time with that question, and I replied,
"It looks so good. O dear. Well..... (still buying time) I'm fighting a cold, and I don't want to cripple my immune system....(more time purchased, hiding many of the real reasons that I am struggling to make a choice). How about a little sliver? Like, thinner than the one you gave Mary?"

And with that, I was served a lovely, thin slice of delicious cake which probably cost me about 100 calories total. I was already hungry again by the time we parted for the night, and came home to a nice bowl of Irish oats with walnuts, raisins, cinnamon, and no sweetener.

And I feel good. I ate moderately. It wasn't extreme. It wasn't damaging. It wasn't ten cream horns, 2 quarts of ice cream, and a week of fast food runs.

It was healthy (not necessarily the cake), my attitude. And I am proud of myself, for the first time in a long time. So here I look forward to another week of ridiculously healthy eating, and next week, when the ladies and I go out for dinner together, I will hunt for something good for my body, and enjoy their company, and go home feeling fed, instead of sickened.

Me, The Bunny Rabbit

It may have appeared that I fell off the face of the blogosphere, but alas, I was just on a wee vacation. Literally. And it was good. Really, really, good. Lots of walking, lots of memory making with our kids, lots of salads, and unfortunately, lots of extra calories.

Then we came home, and I promptly had a mini-nervous breakdown. It preceded some hormonal changes by about a day, so there's one good explanation, but, it was also caused by a stark realization that I have been trying to kill myself with a fork since the age of about 11.

This is a horrible reality to face. For a while, I just felt like I was ruining my figure with my gustatory indiscretions, but to see the science, the studies (I read a detailed book), the PROOF that I'm begging for cancer, heart attacks, diabetes, and joint/bone issues with each and every junk-foody bite was very painful to acknowledge.

And as I am one not to face the pain alone, I promptly woke up my soundly sleeping husband so he could help me cope. He did help me put things back into perspective. We came to the conclusion that I need help. Well, now there's a soo-prise! What shall I do? I'm still thinking about it, but some sort of weight loss support group would be nice.

In the meanwhile, I have faithfully chomped away on an over-abundance (in my opinion) of greenery, nuts, oats, fruits, and small amounts of meaty protein. I haven't weighed myself (except for one little peak this afternoon) in almost a week!! And, although I MISS JUNKFOOD, I feel pretty good about my commitment to the healthy life.

Silver Lining

I struggled a lot last week with scale-based frustration. I am about a month into a tweaked version of my new lifestyle (in hopes to lose more than just one pound each month) and as the scale refused to budge, I became more and more irritated. Why am I burning 600 calories on my treadmill followed by the Torture-Shred, and watching every little calorie that goes past my lips (giving up my "flex" food for the week) only to see a whopping .2 loss on the scale in a week?

That's a big commitment for someone who has enjoyed absolute slothful behavior (my jaw got lots of exercise!) for the last few years, and lots of sugar/fat laden treats at will.

So, how did I respond? By eating horrible food all weekend long, and giving my poor, beleaguered muscles a 4 day siesta.

Was this productive? Nope. I am now re-losing the 4 pounds I gained, which is a great ton of fun, let me tell ya.

Something had to change. Something must, or else I'll repeat this error over and over for the rest of my life, and look forward to retirement one day donning muumuus and 'housecoats'. Lovely.

With so much in life, I think it comes down to perspective. Strategy in thinking, if you will.

• Instead of working out like a maniac on a mission, I can remind myself that my emotional health (elevated heart rates do wonders for depression and anxiety-the latter is a big issue for me) depends upon a good, heart-pumping workout most days of the week. If I take the focus of my workouts from speedy weight loss, and shift it to health and fitness, then I am less likely to feel jilted when my hard work doesn't translate into great gobs of fat loss.
• Instead of feeling deprived when I speed past the fast food joints, I can instead be grateful that I live in a part of the world where fresh fruit and veggies, natural meats, and whole grains are available if I choose to eat them. And as a result of that choice, I can avoid cancer, diabetes, tooth decay, and heart disease to the best of my ability.
• Instead of crumpling into a heap of despair when I don't see a big loss on the scale, I can be grateful that I didn't lose a limb in a car accident this week, which would result in a really big loss on the scale.
• Instead of dreading my daily workouts, I can be grateful that I can workout. I'm not wheelchair bound; I'm not fighting for my children's welfare amid a civil war, or under communism. I'm not working three jobs and juggling the care of my kids as a single mother. I can workout, and I can do it in comfortable clothes, followed by a refreshing shower, and if it's too hot outside, I'm blessed to have access to a treadmill or stationary bike inside, cooled by a powerful fan.
• Instead of feeling stuck in an addiction to food, I can reach out and share hope and encouragement with other strugglers. I am able to connect online, on the phone, and at meetings for other food hyper-lovers :)
• Instead of trying to solve every problem with a binge, I can remember that problems are always worse when I'm overweight. Problems or not, thin and fit is a better way to face adversity.

Speaking of hope and encouragement, yesterday Jen posted a poem which I found so inspirational. I'm thinking of posting a copy over my computer for future reference.

It's Jillian's Fault

She made me do it.

This crazy "Shred" workout video of hers is probably designed to help people lose some inches and fat, but what it really does is trick unsuspecting victims into a form of delayed-torture that produces its debilitating results 12 hours after the "work-out".

Then, the smart victims choose to recover for three days by avoiding all physical activities that might cause the contraction of any bodily muscles shy of the eyeball rotator-thingies (I got a D in anatomy and physiology; can you tell?) and also eating cheesecake. Cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory. (The muscles in my tonge and jaw were not compromised.) Lots of cheesecake; and a little fast food tossed in for fun.

What the heck was I thinking??? I kind of know. I was ticked because I hurt myself so much by taking orders from the TV personality who must not realize that if she makes one wrong move, we'll all get an eye full of her nether-regions(The above picture actually is fairly reserved compared to some). Really? Who wears their pants that low? We're all quite aware of her abdominal perfection. Perhaps she's just making really darn sure that we all know that she's not hiding a tummy pooch. I mean, where would it be, if she were? Beneath some razor burn? (Sorry; these ultra-low pants obviously bother me). I'm not jealous. Well, of the belly, yes. Of the partial nudity, no.

I was also full of self-pity because of all the really hard work I've done lately with very little movement in numbers on the scale.

So a few days of unabashed eating have me wondering what the heck I'm going to see on the scale this week. I didn't weigh myself this morning, and I'm beginning to wonder if I should skip the daily WIs, and do it only once each week. Do you weigh daily? Why have you chosen to/not to?