What its like inside my brain

Tuesday

Great weigh-in. I feel strong. I am back within the range where it could be goal, where I could fluctuate a pound here or there. 

I stand in Dr. Ben's office and mindlessly eat Hershey miniatures. It's just a couple. I don't weigh in until next week. I'm good. I'll be good.

Wednesday

The scale was up almost a pound. Did I eat more chocolate than I thought yesterday? How could that happen? Why am I eating these dark chocolate kisses in my office? I know they are only like 20 calories, a few more can't really hurt. Oh my god, my parents are coming tomorrow. They'll be here for four days. We'll be eating out. I have to make cookies for my father. I had such good momentum going into Tuesday's weigh-in…why the visit now? How can I strategize this visit better?

Thursday

The scale was up again. OK, I'll make all my dad's cookies on Friday and get them out of the way. I won't eat any. We'll grill out on Friday night. I'll still eat my normal breakfast, lunches and snacks. I'll still be able to work out.

Friday

These cookies taste so good. I'm not even hungry. Why am I eating them? My mouth is hungry, watering for them. My stomach is starting to hurt. Why can't I stop eating them?

Saturday

At this point, I should just enjoy this weekend as a vacation, right? People can indulge on vacations. I'll be up a few pounds, I'll be better next week, right? No…I can't enjoy this. I'm eating "junk" food, "good" food, "yummy" food…and I can't enjoy it. I should just let myself enjoy this, it's going to happen anyway. My parents have been in the house for less than 48 hours and suddenly I've reverted to old, bad eating habits. How does that happen? They aren't even doing anything. It's just so pavlovian…I can't help myself.

Sunday

It's the last day, I can eat better tomorrow. We're going out to dinner. My mom ordered hot, soft pretzels for an appetizer. I got a burger and fries. I'm full from dinner and yet I'm eating cookies again. At this point, why the hell not? I hate myself for it. 

Monday

The scale hates me. I'm up eight pounds. I know it's not real. It's like a false positive. Eight pounds and yet I still went right to the kisses when I walked into the office. Sigh

Wednesday

I'm down four on my scale, didn't even want to look at the gym last night when I weighed in. End of day, with clothes. I couldn't have handled looking at a higher middle number. My eating still sucks, though it's better. 

I saw on Facebook that a family friend is pregnant. She already has one kid, by a different guy. She has an entry level job. Yes, I'm being judgmental. When I texted my niece about it, she said, "she is a really good mom." Sorry, I have a broken uterus, I'm not feeling very gracious about this right now.  Somehow I found myself in Dr. Ben's office, ate a couple and grabbed a couple for my bag. I suck.

Thursday

My four sisters are going on vacation together this weekend. I wasn't invited. I'm 16, 15, 14 and 9 years younger than them, but it still hurts that I wasn't included, not even considered. Somehow I feel like I'm being left out -- punished -- for my singledom as the four of them, and their husbands, vacation together. I sit in a colleagues office and eat caramel cremes and Dove dark chocolates. My sisters suck.

Friday

I had a good workout. I'm almost there. But not yet. I'm getting frozen yogurt after I go grocery shopping. I managed to skip the candy aisle.  I'm eating this because I want it. I'm making the conscious decision to eat this, not because I'm stressed, not because I'm eating my feelings, not because I haven't heard from a boy in a few days or feel over-whelmed at work. 

Saturday

I feel good. I'm strong. I'm staying on track today.

Sunday

How the fuck did the scale go up? I stayed within my calories. Yes, I had an Italian sausage at the Eagles game last night, with practically no roll. It took talent to eat a sausage link -- with practically no roll -- and not have it look phallic. Ergh…..stay on track. Stay on track.

Monday

I was down two pounds this morning, still up two from pre-parents visit. I walked by Dr. Ben's office today, without even a second glance. I stayed away from the kisses in the office. I worked out as soon as I got home. I stayed on track nutritionally 100%.

I think I can let go of the obsessing. A little bit. At least for this week.

When we will ever get over it?

I was scanning Facebook last night and saw this headline:

"Read this if You Don't Really Have an Eating Disorder, But Kind of Do."

Coincidentally, I had been thinking about my eating disorder years, when I was afraid of food and wondering if I was going down the same path, even subtly. I have green seedless grapes in my fridge. I had had some at a friend's house about a month ago and they tasted so good, I wanted more. And then I put them into myFitnessPal and saw how many carbs are in them. Even in a half serving. And there the grapes sit in my fridge.

I've always had a precarious relationship with food, with my body, with exercise. I think it's something that most women do, even if they have never been perceived to have a weight issue. It's how we're wired. It's how society talks to us.

I was out with a radio rep a few weeks ago and somehow got on the topic of food, dieting, exercise... and he told me his girlfriend once told him that she thought about food all the time. And the thought I had was, "wow, I'm not the only one."

I think about food. all. the. time. When I'm dieting. When I'm not.

So when I clicked on the above article and read it, I thought immediately, I could have written this.

We know what it feels like to be incapacitated by body obsession—by food thoughts. Because we’ve long been slaves to that apex of tall, thin, white, blond perfection. That apex we’ve been climbing to since we were old enough to look in the mirror and hate what we saw—since we were old enough to be consumed by our consumption. To jitter with paranoia that people are constantly critiquing our bodies—cheapening them. Fattening them. To fiercely hold the fucked up belief that our weight and our happiness are perfectly, inversely proportional. Even if we’ve never had an eating disorder, we grew up with them.

That’s why a violent surge of panic rushes through me when my boss suggests we order pizza for dinner. I had two slices of bread with my salad at lunch—that’s plenty of carbs for today.

Most think of eating disorders as simply anorexia or bulimia -- starving or binging and purging. There are so many facets, such a spectrum of what qualifies as an eating disorder. I think, in a way, unless a woman has a healthy relationship with food and exercise (can I meet her, please?), we all have a tendency for disorder.

At my worst, in my mid-30s, I was diagnosed as an exercise bulimic. I ate about 800-1,000 calories a day and worked out to the point of having a net negative amount of calories, typically two or three hours of cardio. And I was afraid of food. My nutritionist asked me to eat an ice cream cone as my homework assignment. Not just stop and get it somewhere, but to actually have the ice cream and cones in my house.

I bought a single, serving container of ice cream and a box of cones, and literally put one tablespoon of ice cream on the cone. I can see myself -- to this day -- standing at the counter, looking at the ridiculously small amount of ice cream on the cone and not being able to lick it. And at that moment, I realized that this could be an issue.

So last night, after reading the article, I had to have a heart to heart with myself. Yes, I am afraid of the grapes in my fridge, but that didn't stop me from sitting in Dr. Ben's office yesterday and eating eight Hershey miniatures. One could say that's just another symptom of a disorder. Possibly, but like I said, until or unless I have a perfectly healthy relationship with food, there will always be some disorder.

What I validated for myself last night was…I'm allowed a cheat. Where once those Hershey miniatures in the afternoon would have turned into a handful also in my bag for later and four days of cheating, I'm done with the chocolate for awhile. 

If I really wanted the grapes, I would eat them and fit them into my day. Bananas have nearly as many carbs and I have one in my smoothie most mornings.

I'm 10 years older than I was when I was working out to excess. I don't have the energy to do that, even if I was inspired to! I like my 10 p.m. bedtime too much, and am NOT an morning exerciser.

I run. I eat healthy. Do I obsess? Yes, sometimes. But can I let go and enjoy myself for a meal? Yes, sometimes.

That, I think, is the healthiest my mind is going to be with my relationship with food.

When we will ever get over our food issues? I think this is the closest I'm going to get.

Seeing the Big Picture

I posted this assortment of pictures to Instragram the other day (I'm lauriebaseball there, too).

The scale has been stuck on -- or a more accurate term -- bobbling between -- 189.6, 190.4, 189.8, 190.6 and so I decided to break down Friday morning and try on my size 10 jeans. Just to see if I could have a positive moment on something not scale-related.

They were tight, but not too tight to wear in public. It was a victory. These jeans, which fit me so perfectly at 180, two years ago; these jeans, which did not fit me at all last year in the mid-180s…these jeans fit me now. Even heavier, because my body is changing back to what it once was. What it once was in a good way.

To take a step back and stop thinking about the numbers, which are literally within 10 pounds of each other, I dug out some pictures from college. That put is all in perspective.

Am I happy at 190? Seeing what I once looked like when I topped the scales at 252, I am not only happy, I'm proud of myself. I don't even know who that person is on the left in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

It will always be a struggle, I will always have to watch what I eat, and exercise will always need to be my friend, but I will never go back to where I was. And I have to recognize the level of health (not to mention happiness) -- and probably a good number of extra years -- I've given myself.

I will never be a size 2. And quite frankly I don't want to be. I am a curvy girl, with a great rack. I don't want to lose that. But I don't have to be a 22.Depending on the style, the manufacturer and the actual item, I am anywhere from a 10 to a 14, mostly landing in 12-land.

And as someone who used to wear size 22 as her regular size, 12 is just fine with me.

I visited a friend in Baltimore yesterday. And while I've seen her more recently than five years ago, I hadn't seen her kids since 2010. We recreated a picture from the last time I was there. They weren't the only ones who have changed in those five years.

I remember this period of my life. I remember that  I was at a weight I wasn't thrilled with, but I also remember thinking that I looked OK.

And then I see this and think, "oh my god."

I was on year two of fertility treatment and my body was full of hormones and drugs; my emotions were a roller coaster and I'm sure my eating mimicked them.

I posted this picture to Facebook and a former colleague wrote:

"5 years looks great on you."

Ever the self-depracating fool who can't just say thank you, I responded: "Lots of fertility drugs in 2010, lots of sweating in 2015."

She wasn't going to let me off easy. "Not to take anything away from the sweating, but inner peace has a lot to do with it too. I'm so glad to see you happy."

The lesson? The point of this post? I think I need to try to remember that the scale, the numbers, the exercise -- they can't fully define me as they have been. As Amy correctly pointed out, I look good because I'm happy, because I like where I am in my life. And while a lot of that has to do with how healthy I am, it also has to do with where I am -- what I have, what I've achieved -- in my life.

Tired legs

I did lower body tonight, which, considering we use weights for squats and lunges and kettbells for squats, it's really like a full-body workout. My legs are tired but I feel good. Cardio was :45 of a speed climb with 3:00 of recovery (also speed climb). Started walking at 4.0, running at 4.5; finished my set walking at 4.6 and running at 5.2, with a full sprint at 6.5.

I admit planned on running at all, but my legs feel good. Tomorrow will be a full run after upper body. I've got three sessions at the gym with my trainer this week and next, planning to make the most of it and kill it on the scale by August 1.

All numbers are good....scale is back under 190, just .4 up from before my surgery; I'm at 632 miles for the year, shooting for 700 by the end of July. I'm in a good rhythm.

Right now, this is the most important thing in my life...I'm the most important thing in my life.

Kicking ass....kind of

I'm proud of myself for bouncing back so quickly. Decent nutrition the past few days, kick ass workouts and a good mindset.

I set three workout goals for the weekend, even wrote them in my to do list

* 15 total miles for the weekend

* run in my treadmill, .5 consecutively (as I've said, my treadmill is much tighter than the one at the gym)

* do an upper body workout

I printed out some simple workouts and created a mini calendar on the wall outside my bedroom. I have the week planned out with my workouts, and they include circuit training and strength training at home (my Achilles heel). 

I've got a couple sessions with my trainer to make up after my surgery and vacation, so I'm hitting the gym three times this week and next.

I feel good. I enjoyed myself in Richmond, made myself enjoy every thing I out in my mouth and now I have my routine back. This is living, this is life.

And this is planking on the bottom step.

Dominoes

I hate how one little change in my routine can completely derail me. I was so strong, so confident, so on track, and then I had surgery, and then my student from Denmark came to visit and then we went to Richmond and then I still have an 18-year-old in my house,and then and then and then.

Did you know that Denmark only has plain and peanut m&m's? Not dark, not dark peanut, no almond, not crunchy, not pretzel. Did you know that I have all of those in my pantry? With berry Oreos and potato chips.

I packed my food for Richmond. Protein shake powder all measured out in baggies. Protein bars. Greek yogurt. And then I got to Richmond and we were having lasagna for dinner. When I asked for chicken for dinner, would it be a problem to grill me a chicken breast. "You don't want lasagna?" I'd like more protein than carbs. And then my brother jumped in with, let's get ice cream tonight.

In the end I did have chicken breast for dinner, but overall it just seemed easier to not be difficult and eat what was being served.

I blame no one but myself. I'm an adult who makes her choices. In the end it's all on me. The eating, the lack of self control, the three pounds I'm up since before my surgery.

I put my sweet little Charlotte on a plane tomorrow. And I told her all opened sweets are being put in a ziplock bag and going with her. I get back to the gym on Friday, and to make up for a few sessions I've missed over the last two weeks, I'm planning three sessions per week for the next two. 

I've sent myself some good workout charts from Pinterest to print out at work tomorrow. So the nights I don't go to the gym, I can get in some strength/circuit training.

I will have challenges the next few days. Lunch with a friend on Friday in Philadelphia, Chris in town this weekend, lunch in Baltimore next weekend, as well as a neighbors party. One day at a time. Tomorrow my focus is creating my plan, staying on track nutritionally and getting a good workout in when I'm back for my Newark airport drop off.

On the plus side, I have walked every day, ran once. Have they been stellar workouts? No. But I've moved. I've burned some calories.

I'm going to sum it all up with the photo I posted to Instagram tonight. Not exactly the most positive of messages to go with my 30 days of positivity, but it's a message I needed to embrace tonight as I put oral surgery, out of town visitors and out of town visits to rest.

Making choices

This is how my afternoon started

me: can I have chicken for dinner? 

My sister in law: you don't want lasagna? 

Me: I'd rather not eat carbs for dinner 

my brother: we'll have to go get ice cream after dinner

It all worked out fine. Did I snack off plan at the pool? Yes. But I went for a walk/run, my sister-in-law graciously grilled me a chicken breast for dinner and I had nonfat frozen yogurt.

While I was on my walk, I made the decision that I wasn't going to consider this weekend shot and blow my eating habits, but neither can I expect that in going to stay on plan 100%. I'll get my workouts in as best I can, I'll make the best choices I can and when I don't, I need to let go and just enjoy it.

Goal 1 completed...kinda

I'm the type of person who always wants to push it a little more, who strives for perfection, who achieves something and immediately finds fault with it. Call me Type A, call me OCD, call me crazy...I accept it all!

This morning at the gym, I ran for not one mile but two. Two consecutive miles. For 25 minutes. And I should just stop there. Hooray for me, but I can't.

Here come the but's....I was barely running at 4.7 mph, it was on the gym's treadmill which is much "looser" than my treadmill at home, and of course, the way I measure my happiness these days....the scale is going in the wrong direction.

I'm headed out of town and worried about falling off completely. 

Getting it back

I did well with my numbers, had a decent walk after dinner with a friend, but I still don't feel strong. I think because within those 1100 calories, there was chocolate and a cookie. But also not in those 1100 calories are two cookies...I had the bag opened and grabbed my yogurt instead. That was a big win for me, for keeping the cravings at bay, for fighting the mouth hunger and winning.

July goals

The week went well. Surgery was a success. I still can't open my mouth completely but I'm eating solid food again. I am disappointed that limited calorie intake on Wednesday and Thursday did not translate on the scale. But in looking at my food..well smoothies and yogurt....there was half or more of my nutrient ratio that was carb.

I'm back on track this weekend. Ran on the treadmill yesterday...intervals of .25, .5 and .6; and my usual six mile walk this morning. Food was good. I'm hoping to see something on the scale tomorrow.

I know July isn't until Wednesday just I'll just start a couple days early. 

1. Planks and squats every night. I have the numbers written on my full,length mirror with a dry erase marker.

2. 185. This morning I was up slightly to 190. I can lose five pounds in a month, even with a weekend in Richmond, a lunch in Philadelphia, a lunch in Baltimore and a house guest for 10 days. Challenges for sure, but I can work through them.

3. One consecutive mile of running. I have a 5k at the end of July after all.