Old Habits Die Hard

So I've been planning these vacations with several different friends. I am basically in charge of the planning and paying for my group. Naturally, my sense of "fairness" gene has kicked in, and I have this truly scary and anal spreadsheet going on that of course I shared.

So many thoughts: wish I didn't have to worry about money; is this compulsion to make things even a "Libra" thing, or does it come down to my OCD? Or is it my dad? Where to even begin on this one...

My family, when we were one, had a long standing tradition of nickel and diming (I almost said "dining"; how Freudian) each other to deal in a ritualistic hours long "settling the bill" game. We would go out as our disjointed, separate check, varying stages of life and economic strata to a restaurant. The lower strata would order like ice water and a cup of soup; the higher end would order appetizers and a main course and drinks. Then the check would arrive. The initial proposal: let's split it in half/quarters/whatever. I think not, Mr. Lobster Bisque. And with that, out would come pen and paper or calculators and the game would be on.

Add to this the fact that we all suck at math, and you can imagine the merriment.

So that is my background. It is hard to say, even now (years after my dad's death) how much this impacts my sense of fairness. I just know it's hard to split things still and find the place where it fells fair. And fairness is paramount, for some reason.

I think I'm OK with the division of spending from today. I am going to try really hard to forget over my vacation what the bill was for it. But habits do die hard, and it does seem to be the first thing I share when I bring it up to folks. Sigh.

Other old habits: dinner alone tonight. Didn't have the Marie Callander pot pie; didn't go on a total binge, so yay me. Did have chips and salsa and a sausage and peanuts (and I didn't even want them at that point. Double sigh. Still, tomorrow is another day.

Nearly Not Obese

So I went to the doctor today and she was very proud of me: my BMI is now 30.8, and apparently 30 is the point at which you are not considered "obese".

Obese is such a loaded word. When I tell people that I am actually obese, they almost always wave away the idea. Obese may not look as obvious on everyone, but it is undeniable.

Today was a good day in many ways. I checked a bunch of stuff off of this year's "bucket list". At my doctor appointment, I covered all the stuff I've been meaning to: mole checks, what to do about being old enough for a colonoscopy, PT for my carpal tunnel, and she made me commit to a plan for more exercise. I feel pretty pleased with myself, in that "there, I did it" with a big qualifier after it. It is easy enough to say stuff, harder to follow through. Still, I am firmly on the wagon, and I've bought a bike. I have a plan. I did a nice 3 point walk tonight after dinner. I've got 28 activity points chalked up for the June challenge I'm doing. I am on track. I like that.

So here's to being the lowest weight I've been in over 3 years, with the hope that I will get down to the next decade during the summer. I would love to see a weight in the 160s... What can I achieve during this summer? The sky is the limit.

Anchors, Away!

The topic a couple of weeks ago at WW was anchors: as in, what is my anchor? While I do seem well entrenched in program, I'm not sure that I've totally embraced anchoring. I usually get back into WW in stages, and some of the tools (or "tools", as I like to call them) are more for mocking than using. Or maybe that's one of the ways I shoot myself in the foot: not totally doing program.

But this time I have been pretty contemplative. I want this to be the last time I have 50 lbs to lose, and I want to get to lifetime and stay there. So I willing to be open, and to acknowledge that a million-dollar company with lots of researchers and dough behind it might just be onto something. 

The last couple of times I've done this successfully, I have basically used an Excel spreadsheet as my anchor. This was more an exercise of what could be than something that helped. I would track my weight and have scenarios of what it would be if I lost a certain weight per week, when would I reach my goal. But much of the time this was just frustrating and not helpful. Looking at what could have been after a "bad" week is not helpful. Having such a concrete goal that does not account for reality, like water weight or heat or being sick and not going to the gym just seemed to send me on benders of feeling like a failure.

I am on my third 10% key chain. The first one is the only one I got for having lost 10% sequentially, and sometimes I feel like it was the only honest one I earned. But last week, after reaching a low weight I have not seen in over 3 years, I allowed myself to earn a 25# charm, my second. And I acknowledged that even if I didn't lose the weight consecutively, it was earned, perhaps the hard way: in small steps forward and backward.

So I was looking at my keychain with its two 25 pound charms, and my Ganesh charm, and my namaste charm, and it occurred to me that it was, indeed, my anchor. The 2 WW pieces remind me of my journey, with all its ups and downs. Ganesh reminds me that I don't want to be a fat elephant-headed person with an enormous tummy (not really a threat, but still...). And my namaste charm reminds me that I need to chill more and not be so obsessive or stressed out. I drive everyday, and I use my keys multiple times. They will do perfectly as an anchor.

Mantra of the day: I deserve this

I have had a really rocky past couple of years in many ways,  particularly with WW. You might even say I've had my ups and down, and say it with and without irony; both would be true. Hard as it was this time to get back on the wagon and stay up there unreservedly, I have stuck with it. Looking back at my weight tracker this morning, while waiting for my award and preparing mentally what I would say, even though I gained and lost and regained the same 10 lbs over and over, I was showing up. Lame, you might say, but those in the know realize that as long as you attend the meetings, you are, even in a small way, holding yourself more accountable than if you dropped out for several weeks at a time and then came back to the fold.

This year, at around the first meeting of the year, I looked back and realized that last year I had lost a total of 22 lbs, most of which I gained back. Looking back at couple of years, I realized I started and ended several weight trackers at the exact same weight. My body was set in its ways, and until I actually started doing program, nothing would change. That was less of a revelation and more of a growing suspicion, but either way it did the trick.

Today I got my 25 lb charm. This is the least I've weighed since before I trashed my weight history (damn me anyway for reseting my app...). For the past several weeks, I have been congratulated by the staff at weigh in and I have resisted celebrating my loss. It was not the first time I lost--or gained, for the matter--these pounds. Today, finally cracking down below that low point, I allowed myself to feel proud of myself, to be acknowledged. That is so hard sometimes.

We watched an episode of Elementary last night where Sherlock was blowing off his one-year sober celebration. I could so relate. But his sponsor made a good point: celebrating these milestones isn't just about us, it is also about those who struggle alongside us. Acknowledging our success gives hope to others that, too, may also reach their goals. It was a timely lesson.

I have struggled before with my weird perfectionism, or the voices in my head that tell me that even though I was working hard, I wasn't working hard enough and so didn't deserve to succeed, or some such crap. This time I want to be easier on myself.

So bring on the kudos. I will try hard not to flinch or shrug, as usual, but to take it like a woman. And mean it, wholeheartedly.

I'm preparing for the zombie apocalypse and other odd rationalizations

You probably don't know this about me, but I like paranormal/sci fi fiction. As such, I watch "Revolution", which is not about zombies (that would be Walking Dead, which I actually don't watch), but about a dystopian future where there is no power (not to be confused with the books by Sterling, that I don't read).

If I haven't lost you yet with my sidetracking, you may be wondering why any of this is relevant. Well, my daughter has a plan about the zombie apocalypse, and in the back of my mind I have an alternate one for a powerless future. That future would require bicycles. And that brings me to my point: oddest reasons to buy something.

I own a bike, and I long since stopped riding it, and turned it over to my daughter. So if we were on the run, from zombies or Monroe's militia, how would I get around? I am almost sold on the idea of a new bike. And I can justify it by more than just zombies or power outages.

My bike, purchased back in the day that mountain bikes were hot, is of a configuration that irritates my carpel tunnel. So getting a "comfort bike" would be paramount. This is a bike that wouldn't put undue pressure on my wrists, and would allow me to ride in a more natural upright position. Most importantly, a bike would allow me to engage in regular exercise, which could only lead to fitness (or perhaps accidents and humiliation, but I hope not. )

Now all I have to do is let my thinking simmer a bit, until my reasoning feels organic or at least believable.

Ode to Doris Day: que sera, sera

If you could choose between losing a half pound per week consistently or losing up to 2 lbs (or possibly gaining up to 2 lbs) per week which would you choose?

Well apparently based on my reaction to my steady but minimal loss, my answer is the latter. Or at least I seem like I am much more likely to give up if I don't lose dramatically and consistently.

Unfortunately there is no guarantee. Even following program to the letter, you still may have a slight gain or a tiny loss. But I keep getting distracted by numbers and easily thwarted by a very slow loss. But really if I were to keep this up, a half lb a week is 2 lbs per month. 6 months would be 12 lbs. that would be really cool.

So baby steps? Being them on. I will take whatever I can get.

Emotional land mines ahead

I should know better: I weighed myself this morning, second in a row. Up. Despite being "good" yesterday. But as a seasoned weight watchers veteran, I know not only that being "good" is not the whole story, and that weight fluctuated for a number of reasons. The scale gives up one piece of feedback, and it's not always reliable, especially when the scale was bought for its looks.

Still, I could go either way: determined to walk my activity points and drink my water and do what I can to at least maintain this week, or go full on despair that I will ever lose weight and throw my hands up in surrender. Why the gamut of emotional polar opposites?

Let's check some other data points, shall we. Pants: nice and loose. New shirt: not clinging uncomfortably. I managed to get an activity point while watching tv last night with my mini tramp and 15 minutes of hooping. I have not gone crazy this week, an I have plenty of flex points left.

Fun with Portion Sizes

So that week is not too bad. A little low on exercise, but the eating is pretty much under control, with one (big) exception: portion sizes.

There's a favorite dish I make with olives and pasta and mozzarella. I tend to serve it with a standard serving spoon. I have not until this moment thought about using one of my measuring devices to serve it. Perhaps that's because I haven't updated the points for it in a while. Be that as it may, the default serving size is "as much as will fit in a bowl". I'm ostensibly doing fine with flex points this week, so the two servings I had that were probably two servings each are still on program. And that pizza I had on Sat was probably close to accurately accounted for.

"Probably" is the reason I am not losing as quickly as I would like...

Miss Perception

I keep thinking about those videos from the other day, the ones put out by Dove (awesome campaign, by the way, although oddly publicized). I think I posted the one with the sketch artist, but there was another where these women were asked what body part they didn't like of theirs and they came up with a response in like 2 seconds. When asked which ones they did like, some had to think really long and hard, sometimes not having an answer.

It is really hard to see myself objectively. I have a long laundry list of self perceived flaws. It is almost impossible to list any part of me that I genuinely like. Of course it is possible to list things I'm glad I don't have, based on flaws in other people. That much I can do. I can't keep that list on mind when trying to think of myself I positive terms.

I once took part in this group that dealt with weight issues. It was an interesting idea, but not lengthy enough or in-depth enough to make much progress. The idea was to demystify our trigger foods and to bring our thoughts about ourselves to the surface. I didn't make much progress on the self acceptance part. I did rid myself of liking Godiva chocolates; wish moonstruck had been around then.

Do you know what you look like?

I found this video today. One thing I hear over and over at WW meetings is we would never dream of saying some of the stuff we think about ourselves to any other person (well, most people wouldn't...) That is so true. And I can look back at pictures of myself, and know I felt like I was this horrible fat thing, and yet I looked so good to me now. The disconnect between what we see what we really look like is so profound. Some comments I saw about the video (from a guy) were that the women in a similar video from Dove were just being modest. Please. There is a big difference between just "being modest" and how these women were talking about themselves.

Contrast it to this guy I ran across in my job. We have this profile page where these experts are supposed to rate their expertise in order for us to gauge whether they would be a good fit to review a topic. This guy (I almost said "this tool"...) said, in both an email and in a section that was not meant for comments, that he is reticent to state that he is an expert, and the implication was because he was being modest. I found his comments very arrogant and annoying. Seriously, dude, we just want to know if you are a good fit to review certain topics: we aren't rating how modest and self-effacing you are! Now that is a good example of false modesty.

You can also pretty much always tell when someone is fishing for a compliment. You can just tell. You can. It's not rocket surgery (as a favorite named competing trivia team would say).

The other thing I want to say about this (before I eat my lunch, which is not getting any hotter) is that acceptance is difficult for me. To me, to say that I love me the way I am is like I'm saying I give in: I'm not going to try anymore. And I realize even my brain is rationalizing or simplifying the issue. There is no reason I can't love myself as I am and simultaneously aim to get healthier, which would include eating and exercising in order to get my cholesterol and blood pressure under control. But it just feels like I don't mean it. Possibly this is one reason I've had such a hard time getting and staying on the wagon this time... Hmmm...

Beware the Undertoad

Yesterday was a truly bizarre day. I spent much of it like an observer in my own body, frantically hitting undo to all the bad impulses I kept having.

This is a critical week for me. Exactly one year ago I was also at this weight. I flirted with it for a few weeks and ultimately started trending upwards, eventually regaining 10 pounds. My pattern has been pretty predictable for the last couple of years. I can't seem to gain (as it were) any new ground.

I feel like I've just been treading water, and anytime I actually start to make progress, something happens and I get sucked back into the undertow, or like they say in the World According to Garp, the Undertoad. What is it that derails me? Some catastrophic event? Some random food fest? Apparently, it is boredom.

How else can you explain my sudden interest in the half bag of chocolate chips that has been in my pantry for at least six months? Or my obsession with the cookie dough from the kids' play date. Granted, those are my favorite cookies, but the dough? Not so much. Looked at it at least three times. WTF?!?

Look out behind you!

You know those horror films where the scrappy girl goes off by herself against all advice, and you're sitting in your seat, as she blithely looks the wrong ways, and you're screaming at the screen: "Look behind you! Run!", and she doesn't? Welcome to my life.

I spend a lot of time (A. LOT. Of. Time.) thinking about what I can do to stay motivated, to stick with program, to move more, and, inevitably, what I can eat and what I want to eat. It all falls apart during some random moment of carelessness or stupidity or just pretending I don't have a problem with eating too much of the wrong thing. It's like I'm that girl and the audience, and I can see me talking the talk, and wondering why I can't lose weight, and I see me reach for the food, and I'm screaming, "No! Not the Doritos!! Step away from that cookie!" Is it any wonder I  throw my hands up and change the channel?

I am on the precipice, and I can see the other side, and I can see exactly where I should not step in order to fall. So I had a slight gain this week. I can see just what happened, and I know it's not reversible.

There was that pain, and that made me less active this week. There was stress at work and that made me take fewer trips up and down the stairs for ice water. There was that brownie and that danish, and yes, the Doritos, but add them all up and that wasn't even the problem. For all my accounting and accountability, I am still not giving myself enough credit for what I did do right. For not buying anything in the bakery that day. For walking the form to school instead of driving (even if I didn't get any activity points for it). For going to Weight Watchers this morning without my friend when I could have stayed home and not gone like her.

So I going to continue to try to listen to the voices in my head when they say good things, and filter them out when they start that negative talk (can you do positive reinforcement with yourself?)

Goal for the week: walk just 15 minutes a day. Keep drinking that water, and parking farther away from your destination. And watch out behind you: that cookie does NOT have your name on it...

I'm big in Russia! (not literally)

I had an email yesterday that made me think about this old blog. I have actually been thinking a bunch about 2009 lately, since I am currently on the wagon and thinking about when I reached my all time, non-pregnant, high back in November 2009.

Boy, that was a sucky year, although it's been downhill (slowly, weight-wise) since then. I've been in a bit of a rut for (I can't believe I'm saying this) the last 4 years. At least in the past 12 months I've flirted with reaching my 10% twice. If I have a loss this week, it will mark the lowest I've been since (I will have to look this up). Thankfully, I haven't reached that high again.

So in other news, I have been more or less gainfully employed for a couple of years. I had my favorite job ever, with the least amount of pay, working in Adobe InDesign for Stanley Tools. I had my least favorite job so far working for (blah blah blah) at (Blah, inc). Right now I have a contender for bottom of my top list of bosses (this is not a compliment, but harder to Google, in case anyone is looking...)

Anyway, my goals this year are to be healthier in every way. So far, I've gotten my all my girl parts duly inspected, have refilled my Rx, and I'm being more active. That and I've been on the wagon, diet-wise; I'm halfway through a personal 10-week total tracking challenge. At the end of the challenge I will reward myself with something substantial (well, I just want a new iPhone, and I may as well make it a reward...) I'm thinking hard about exercising (that has to be worth a couple of activity points, right?)

The funny thing about looking at my web stats today is I'm working on this international conference, and I spent the past few hours at work looking up people's locations. One of them is Russia, so I dusted off my Cyrillic and was pronouncing names and cities in my head (hopefully not mumbling aloud). So dobrae utra!

That was easy (sorta)

My mood is probably the top thing keeping me off the wagon. This recession has made this one of the worst job searches ever for me, and naturally I have fallen into all the things that trap you and keep you from putting your best foot forward: isolation and depression pretty much making everything seem harder than it really is. From writing a cover letter that begs you to send a resume into the shredder to not wanting to go back to the job search networking group because you have nothing new to say, I have done it all. And none of that makes me care enough to take care of myself.

This week I finally went back to counseling. Low and behold the counselor said a number of things that make so much sense, like everyone is having a hard time finding a job, it's not personal, let the employer decide that I don't qualify for a job rather than paralyzing myself with doubt that I can do it. Just saying some of this stuff out loud is helpful. No doubt, taking that first step is what sent me to food yesterday.

For me it's all about "two steps forward, one step back", or vice verse sometimes. But I'm just calling yesterday a glitch and not letting it steer me back off the wagon. Today I finally called for my 3rd extension of unemployment; as my counselor said they wouldn't have voted it in if people (besides myself) didn't need it.

Most of counseling is not hearing anything new, but hearing from someone else. When I try to tell it to myself, it's often accompanied by judgments and negative statements. And it comes as no surprise that I have a hard time asking for help, whether it's from friends or the state employment division.

For christmas this year I think I'll give myself the gift of letting others help...

Open mouth, insert foot

I am really kind of amazing, when you think about it. How else would you explain how a natural pleaser type could live in the body of a rebel? Those two characteristics should really cancel each other out, but instead I can go out of my way to please some, while rebelling against others simultaneously. Amazing...

Witness the rebel in my reaction to anyone who says the phrase "Should you be eating that?" to me. My response is usually "Eff you, I'll have some more." Alternately, I have gotten myself into some pickles with my desire to say yes to everyone. In one work situation, I totally ended up painting myself in a corner when I should have, for once, just said "it's not my job" and passed it off to someone else. I learned that lesson late, but did finally learn it, but not before the 2 people I was working to please ended up hating each other. Note to self: it is virtually impossible to try to please too many people and end up looking good when you are forced to use the other people against each other.

Case in point, coming up with a team when the numbers are limited and the total amount of players exceeds the limit. How do you choose when the team is playing for money and bragging rights? Do you choose a friend over a better player? Do you speak to the players who don't get picked? Or are you fully intending to blame the friend not making the cut on your husband? I know there has to be a better solution than telling the friend they just don't contribute much to the team. Is there a better solution than blaming the husband, who is often opinionated and tactless anyway??

In a way, I guess it's good that I have always been a picky eater, so that the pleasing thing never extended to food. I literally would be at least twice my size if it did. But I sure do wish I could work the rebel thing to my advantage instead of against it.

Still Don't Know What I'm Looking For...

My "yay me" list:

• Have not finished off any of the Thanksgiving leftovers
• Have more or less tracked all my points this week
• Went for a walk (baby steps...)
• Arranged for counseling
• Started laying out the newsletter
• Taking part in the online community at WW

Then today when I was in the shower, I almost talked myself into being more proactive in my search for short-term or long-term work. Then I got dressed. Maybe later...

I am so easily "talked out" of being motivated! It is so much easier to do nothing than to do something! I hate talking to people on the phone! I hate feeling awkward or stupid! But most of all, I just don't see me doing any of the jobs I find. What the hell do I want to be when I grow up??

I keep forgetting that I just need money. If I can get even a crappy job, it isn't forever. Then I remember other temp jobs that I hated.

Yes, I am just whining. I deserve a job that I enjoy. I deserve to be respected for my work and get acknowledgement that I do good work. I should feel good about any job that I do my best at. But...

I read on someone's blog today that food is one area that you can control when everything else in your life seems out of your control. That is definitely food for thought.

Anti Progress!

So one year ago I weighed 8 pounds less than today. The lowest I weighed this year was 188. What's up with that??!

This year has not exactly been a banner year for me. Still unemployed. Still bigger than I want to be. First panic attack. Still have high cholesterol. Quit the gym. Discovered hooping, but quit it. Re-discovered quilting, but quit it amid many projects. Spent a lot of time playing with virtual pets and trivia. Spent a long time running frantically after the wagon, trying to climb back on (or playing with the streamers dangling off: half and half).

But as they say, the journey of a thousand steps begins with just one (or something like that). My goal for the rest of the year is to get back to my old starting weight. That's just 8 lbs total. There's 5 weeks left of the year, and I lost 1.2 this week, so just 6.8 to go. I'm trying to get back into the WW community. They've revamped it and it has Facebook-like qualities to it. Hmmm... Kind of confusing to find conversations you took part in, but I'm game for something new.

Not there yet

Last week, my leader passed out these little forms titled "How on program are you?" I faithfully copied it so I could write on it and have one for next week, and then... nothing. I am not ready to be on program, apparently. In fact I had a little binge this week after some unsavory parenting or job hunting moment already out of my memory. Sigh. More thinking on why I don't really want to be healthier....

Serendipity

Ironically, even with all my eating last week, I somehow lost 2 lbs. Woo hoo! I'll take it! Now to get serious about this getting healthier.

Went for a walk yesterday, albeit a stressful one full of a little boy doing kung fu leaps close to the edge of the path (aka the "Cliffs") and his dad battling with him with sticks.

Had dinner with my sisters celebrating one of their birthdays. It was one of those chi-chi restaurants with tiny portions, so I think I did OK. No dessert there, but came home and had toasted almond gelato. Yum! But now that that's out of my system, back to work on eating healthier.

Is it too late to lose 20 pounds by 7 tonight?

Once more, here it is my high school reunion and I find myself unprepared. I've been cramming all day and still I just don't have a lot of memories. I may bring my year book as a reminder. I've been stressing this event for some time now (at least a week of sleeping poorly)--or maybe it's the job search. At any rate, I had my epiphany last night when I realized that there's no way I can possibly lose weight by tonight, so why sweat it? I was trying on clothing yesterday at a shop and nothing looked good and I looked huge. Why do I keep gaining? It's all fun and games until I have to face other people, which is pretty much every day.

But today I was thinking that even though I'm at my heaviest and I'm unemployed, I really should count my blessings, as it were. Now I'm not usually a blessings counter. In fact if you asked me if I were a glass-half-full gal or glass-half-empty, my response would be to worry if the glass size factored in, and whether it was clear or not. Still, I realize that I'm not divorced, nothing horrific has happened to me, I still have all my teeth and all of my working parts. I have a great family (one of whom is annoying me right now with his squeaky crocs: one guess who that is). Really, I have more good things than bad things right now. So what if I'm fat...