When is it enough?

My name is Janelle and I am a scale-oholic.  I had an inkling of this last week, but it's now been confirmed.  I was able to stay off it for three days and then I caved.  Granted, I wasn't as obsessive as I've been in the past, but it was a twice a day thing earlier this week. 

I always thought the scale was a way to keep myself accountable. What I realized this past week is that it may be more a way to let myself off the hook. The fact that I busted it out on Sunday to determine if I needed to take a run was the dead giveaway.  I told myself that if I was down I could stay home and relax.  I was the same, so on went the running shoes. It made me realize that what the scale says sometimes determines if I say yes to the cookies during the day, or slack off tracking my points, or let myself make less healthy choices in general. In many ways, it's not keeping me accountable at all.  It's keeping me stuck.

In my coaching session this week, Amy posed the big, looming question to me - "Can I have a healthy interaction with the scale?" My immediate response was a resounding NO!  But, am I ready to give it up?  I feel like I started this journey to lose weight. It wasn't about getting healthy, it was about losing weight.  That requires a scale. Maybe at the point where I'm in the non-overweight zone, I can think about it, but right now I don't think I'm ready. 

Don't get me wrong, I know this is a sick relationship.  This morning when I had lost a half a pound for the week, I went through the "is that all?" feeling.  Even though it was a loss.  Even though I had maintained what I have already dropped and then some.  Even though a half a pound is a respectable amount, it wasn't enough for me.  Again, I'm in that place where I want to see the finish line. But, maybe I do see it, but it looks a little different than I thought it would.  Maybe the finish line is a life where I'm not measuring my happiness by a number on the scale. I'm letting that idea roll around in my head a bit.  I'm definitely not there, yet. I still want pounds off my frame at this point.  But, I am willing to consider that once I get closer to my "goal," maybe I can rethink the end game and consider a different place to end up.  Maybe. 

Ma'am, please step away from the scale...

I am obsessed with those little digital numbers.  Okay, so they're not so little, but they are getting smaller. Regardless, I have to confess to being a serial weigher. I don't just step on the scale daily.  I step on it multiple times a day wondering, "Gee, where am I now?" as if magically the number is going to be 40lbs lighter within 12 hours of my last foray. It's not rational and it's definitely compulsive, but it's what I do. 

I'm actually not sure what this obsession is all about. I think it's part wishful thinking, part accountability and part masochism. I remember the first time I did Weight Watchers in my early twenties I didn't own a scale. Every week I didn't know what the scale would say until I stepped up. It was actually really lovely. Buying a scale was like Eve taking a bite of that apple — it opened my eyes but eliminated my innocence. And I picked the juiciest apple around - not just a scale, but a scale that measures your body fat.  Talk about TMI!

So, the big question now is how to rein in my scale obsession while still remaining accountable. The reality is, if I'm tracking my points truthfully, I know how my week has gone.  There's no mystery there. Stepping on the scale over and over is part ritual and part sheer meanness.  As much as I want to quit cold turkey, my truth is that I'm addicted. So, it's going to be a matter of baby steps. Maybe for this week I'll just make it a morning habit.  Or maybe, I'll find the courage to step on it tomorrow and stash it away for a week. Maybe if I just move it onto a shelf or into the laundry room behind a box or two, the sheer effort to get it out will perhaps deter me.  Or, maybe I need to enlist Charly's help to hide it. My self-control only goes so far.  I need some serious intervention.

You know, the idea of a week where my mood isn't determined by a digital read-out is really  appealing....

Are We There Yet?

And so it begins, the waning motivation. It's about the right timing - a month in.  I just want to be done with this weight loss thing. I'm bored. I guess after dealing with this for about 30 years I would be bored.  It's just that I want to get to the finish line this time and I can't afford to be bored, yet.

I've officially lost seven pounds so far.  We'll see what this week holds on Wednesday morning. I guess this is where making that whole shift from "dieting" to "lifestyle change" would help. I'm so not there, yet. It doesn't help that I live with a man who can eat anything he wants and never gain a pound. Hell yes, I'm envious. Am I really going to have to thoughtfully consider what I put in my mouth FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE???? Ugh! We all have our own unique challenges in life, right? 

Maybe I just need to dial back the intensity of my resentment about mine. I mean really, how hard is it to consider what I put in my mouth and avoid stuffing down my emotions with food?Ok, some days it's really hard. But, only because I make it that way. I know there's a part of me that likes wallowing in my weight, a part that worries about the fact that once I tackle this I'll have to look at something deeper. Plus, my weight is my protective coating, my armor that keeps me safe from rejection and in the failure I know. What if what I'm feeling isn't so much boredom as it is fear?  What if I'm scared of the steady progress? What if the slow steady route is making me look at things a little differently and more deeply? Ok, I'm not bored.  I'm terrified of what I'm about to uncover.

I think I just ate an emotion.

Sometimes I have what I call "Bottom-less Pit" days.  It's like I just can't stop eating and honestly for most of it I really believe I'm hungry. I had one of those on Saturday.  In all fairness, I did go for a run that morning.  But I don't think a 1.25 mile run really qualifies as appetite stimulation. Throughout the rest of the day, I seriously couldn't stop shoving things in my mouth. The fact that we had to drive down to San Diego that afternoon meant that I ended up eating every snack we packed.  I shared a bit, but no one else in the car seemed quite as interested in the food bag as I did.

In thinking about it later, I realized that I was actually really fearful and sad about the trip and I think that's what my appetite was about — comfort.  A family friend had died the week previous and we were going down to be there for the memorial service. The scary thing was that during the day what I was feeling didn't even register.  

I pretty much have two emotional speeds - happy and angry.  Anything outside of those two just kind of feels numb. And with negative emotions, my coping mechanism of filling my stomach kicks in automatically.  I don't even realize it's happening.  That's actually a frightening thought for me. I'm on auto-pilot, so how can I correct the plummeting?  I guess it's like anything else - pay more attention. It's just so hard. Digging emotions out from under years of repression is an arduous task. I guess that's part of what I signed up for with this blog and my "once and for all" attitude.  Some days it just feels like I'm not up to the task.  

Run, Janelle, Run

I did it!  I got my feet in my running shoes and my ass outside for a run.  It was a short one - 1.25 miles, but it was a run without stopping. Given my pace, it might be better termed a jog. After the fact, it felt great.  And, truth be told, during wasn't THAT bad. It wasn't great, don't get me wrong, but I could do it.  My knees were definitely complaining that I have 46 extra pounds on my frame right now.  I just told them I was working on it.

Maybe finding a 5K or 10K to sign up for would be a good idea.  That will get me on more of a structured training regimen.  I do much better that way.  I'm terrified of being shamed in the effort - of failing - so it motivates me.  Negative motivation probably isn't the healthiest, but for now, it works. 

During my run, I was supposed to be thinking about something I read last night from Geneen Roth (instead I was counting the minutes:)).  It's definitely something I want to mull and explore. Nothing groundbreaking, except that it got me wanting to think about how it applies to me.  Basically, it's that any compulsion is really just a replacement for a deep-seated fear. She asked, "If you weren't worried about your weight, what would you be worried about?" Off the top of my head, I don't really know.  I've buried it very well.  

Ultimately, it all goes back to the time when the compulsion started.  What were you trying to make up for?  I've been chubby since I was little, so I've got a lot of digging to do.  There's something in there for me about loneliness. I think my compulsive eating started when I would be home alone after school in elementary school. It was something to do. But, more than that, I think my parents were stretched pretty thin in their lives. I got most of what I wanted materially, but there wasn't a lot of attention left over.  Add to that my dad moving out when I was 11 and that sounds like a recipe for fat. I'm sure this will be fodder for more posts in the future...

Slow Down, Sister

It only took a week and the progress has slowed.  Actually, perhaps it's my enthusiasm.  I did lose a pound this week, so I should be thrilled.  But, in true Veruca Salt form, I want more and I want it NOW! In my mind, that whole nine months on, nine months off thing is bullshit. In my revisionist history, it felt like I peed on the stick and gained 50 pounds immediately. Oh well.  Slow and steady, right?

It probably didn't help that we went to San Diego for a few days of "vacation" the past few days. My mom's house isn't exactly a domain of healthy eating. She bought the 12-pack of cinnamon rolls at Costco for our breakfast.  To my credit, I mostly resisted (except for a few nibbles from Gus's half eaten one), and what I did eat, I accounted for. But then there was the trip to Legoland and then to DZ Akins and then to Corvette Diner.  Oddly enough I was craving salads, so that worked to my advantage. It was really more about the portion sizes. What is it about having a plate of food in front of you that makes it impossible to stop munching?

So, despite my impatience, I'm 4.5 pounds down.  A half more pound and I get to treat myself to something I've been wanting to buy for awhile - a Ped-Egg.  It's this little pumice stone like thing that I've heard people rave about. I'm having soft feet envy with my daughter.  So, it's my way to celebrate.  Whatever keeps me motivated, right?

The Before Picture

We went to the beach today.  I asked my husband to take a picture of me in all my bathing-suited glory. Other than being naked (I'm not that courageous), this was as revealing a before picture as I could devise. Part of the journey this time is for me to look at myself more intently and see myself more clearly than I ever have.  For some reason, I know that that is going to be a big part in understanding the why of my weight.

I'm finding it kind of amazing that what I see in the picture is actually much better than what I see in my head.  Yes, she's overweight, but she's not as hideous as that voice inside my head makes her out to be.  She just looks real. Maybe I'm more forgiving now that I have more perspective in life. I see a mom, a professional, a wife, a writer, a daughter, a student, a sister, a friend, and most importantly a strong woman.  So, perhaps the before isn't so bad after all.

But, despite fulfilling all those roles, having all those abilities, I still don't feel comfortable in my own skin. For some reason, I need to see that strength, that discipline externally for it to be real to me. It's like this is the one area in my life where I always fail, so it detracts from all of the rest of who I am.  It always makes me feel less than. I guess what I really need is a before picture of my psyche.

The results are in...

I've got a week under my belt and 3.5 lbs off of my belly. It feels great!  Although, I'm trying to keep my excitement in check.  I know this is just the start.  I've got more weight to lose than I ever have in my life, which feels daunting.  Plus, I know you always get a big kick in the beginning.  It's slogging through that middle time that's tough. Actually, for me, it's always the last 5-10 pounds where I give up.  I think I'm afraid that once the weight "to do" is off my plate, I won't know what to do with myself.

I had an interesting conversation with my life coach, Amy, yesterday about what my weight is costing me. Aside from a way to beat myself up (and at one time in my life romance), I don't think I've seriously considered the costs.  The health one doesn't really resonate for me because I've never been so heavy for that to really factor in.  Plus, I've always been younger. The one thing that really hit me was when she asked me how many hours a week I spend thinking/obsessing/dealing with my weight. I came up with five.  When you multiply that by my hourly professional rate, I'm losing $500 a week because I'm fat.  That's more than $25,000 a year.  Holy crap!  I could totally use that money.  

So, I've got a new motivation now.  Add that to not wanting to scar my daughter with my food challenges and that's a pretty compelling reason to succeed this time.  

Game on

I'm making the commitment.  I finally decided yesterday after a month of the scale not moving (because I really haven't been doing anything to make it move) that it was time to take some kind of action. Some pictures from my recent high school reunion were also a good catalyst (yikes!). Joining Weight Watchers right now just wouldn't be financial smart, but the reality is that I've done WW enough that I know how to follow the program. It's not brain surgery.  Of course, not going to meetings means going without the personal support, but maybe I'll hit up some of my friends to join me on this adventure.  

The Internet is such a great help.  I couldn't remember how many points I should be having, but you can find anything with a Google search. I've got 35 points a day to work with.  Thank God for breastfeeding!  I better get this done before Mattie starts eating solids.  That extra 10 points really helps. 

Yesterday actually went really well and I even had pizza with friends for dinner.  It actually feels good to be doing something and not just wishing for the weight to come off. I even told my husband today and his wonderful, immediate response was that he'd stop bringing junk into the house.  Gotta love his skinny soul :).

So, I'm on a 51 pound journey at this point. It seems daunting, but I know I can do it.  I have to do it! I really don't want to pass on this fucked up relationship with food to my daughter.  It's a struggle I hope she can live without.

Maybe Tomorrow

I can't seem to get this healthy eating thing started.  And yet, I still expect results every morning when I step on the scale.  Breastfeeding only burns so many calories. It's not going to happen on its own, but I can't find the discipline right now. 

Someday, I'm not going to crave my afternoon chocolate fix.  But, right now, it gets me through. I know I have to be the one to break the habit.  I have to be the one to make the smarter choices, but I can't seem to muster the willpower at the moment, or the day, or the week, for that matter.  I guess part of it is that I just want my weight problem to go away on its own. I don't want to deal with what's behind it.  The other thing is that food is my coping mechanism - my ONE coping mechanism.  I'm terrified to give that up. How can I keep anxieties and stresses at bay without that?  I know people say to find other options.  Maybe writing here will be one of them, but when you've done something for over 30 years, it's a hard habit to break.

Every day I swear today is going to be different.  Today definitely wasn't, but then maybe it was. At least I'm thinking about what I can do.  At least I'm aware that I need to do something different.  I will make this happen.  I just don't know when.

The first day of many

It's official.  I'm heavier than I've ever been in my life. Granted, I just gave birth to my second child a month ago, so I guess there's room to cut myself some slack.  Still, being this heavy is unnerving.  I'm 201 pounds.  Ok, it's out there now - horrifyingly out there.

For some reason, starting this blog felt like the right first step in my weight loss journey this time.  I've struggled with being overweight all my life and clearly have never dealt with the underlying issues.  Somehow blogging about it feels like it could help me tackle it one more time. I don't know if it's just the process of writing or the fact that I'm putting it out there so publicly. At the very least, it's documenting the journey and offering me an alternative for exploring the emotions that I've always dealt with with food. 

So, today the path begins. I don't have a diet or exercise plan at this point.  For today, this is it.  I'll find my way with the other pieces as the journey unfolds. But, maybe it's good to start in a way I never have before.  Maybe it will help me get somewhere different.