So it's 4:30 in the morning on a Monday. After a weekend of celebrating the weekend, I capped off the festivities with 3/4 of a bottle of wine. Well, truth be told I was also celebrating a fantstic win by the Bills over the Patriots. I picked a hell of a year to start watching them again (and I decided to catch every game LONG before the season started, even before their first preseason game)
But now it's 4:30 in the morning, and the reality of the weekend is beginning to sink in. The scale and I won't be on speaking terms until sometime midweek....of next week. The thought of what I ate over the weekend, how much I didn't move (it was very wet and rainy on Saturday, and by Sunday I just wanted to go home) is keeping me awake.
The guilt.
How do I live past the guilt? And why do I continue to make the same bad choices every weekend? I know quite well that a woman who is 50 lbs overweight shouldnt be drinking at all, let alone the amount that I had this weekend. (I'm not alone, Kevin had 15 beers between Friday and Saturday, and my mother in law had so much Saturday afternoon, she was sure she was going to go back to the trailer and throw up.)
But I continue to. I say "ah.. what the hell" and pop the cork to a bottle of Riesling or the Sauvignon Blanc. I shared of course, but I didn't share the 4 or 5 glasses I had at the Dresden hotel & Bistro. I shake my head at myself.
Its been nearly 18 months since I had Abigail. That is a year and a half since I had a solid reason for being way goo heavy for my own good. But I've had ample time to lose it, and I haven't. 22 lbs is all I lost. And I'm petrified of having another baby. I'm still carrying about 30 lbs of pregnancy weight. (let's be serious, it was pregnancy weight 12 months ago, now it's just wine & junk food weight)
If I have another one , my God I may weigh well over 200 lbs when it's all said and done! And if that didn't happen, if I DO somehow manage to drop fifty pounds before hopping on the pregnancy train again....would I want to ruin it?
I'm not one of those girls who starves because "that's what it takes for me to be thin". My brain can't work that way. I can't be my best if I'm hungry, and my mind...my creativity and intellect, are at least worthy of firing on all cylinders. But at the same time, when you don't strategically limit your intake....when you don't "make a big deal" out of what you put in your mouth....then you might be doing okay most of the time, or borderline, but the screwups really take you down.
Everyone has said at least once " what will one cookie do?". Well....when your whole life is teetering on the edge of eating just enough, and eating enough for two people...that cookie is really the straw. It's not the one cookie, it's the mentality.
That's what fat is. It's not simply calories in vs out. It's a mentality. It's how you view yourself. It's how you cope with things. It's how you connect and celebrate. It's how you escape.
The most significant thing about fat, or being fat, is how it can pervade every aspect of your life. Hw do you change and remove that "layer" when you have to participate in activities that may or may not fit into your current lifestyle? How do you change when it's not only what you put in your mouth, but what you say to yourself?
It's like taking away a security blanket. What is there to make me feel comfortable, or calm, or to control the anxiety or the frustration?
I can do one of three things-
I can limit my intake, very deliberately exercise each day, and not eat junk food, dessert, or alcohol, but give up a significant source of enjoyment in my daily life...And find a new way to handle the stresses of being a mother, and handling everything. Lets be serious, I'm not a mom who gets to go to work and be an "employee" without fail 5 times a week, and then go home and be "mom". I'm "mom" and "boss", and "handyman" and whatever else for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, with only breaks on weekends to a degree.
I can exercise every day, when I'm feeling out of control. I can shirk my constant responsibilities to being a parent, to my customers, to my business, to running this household. I have done this, and I feel so tired that I just don't do anything but exercise and recuperate. No time for boozing or eating fatty foods. I'm too exhausted. That could work, but how do you function when your body aches from exercising, and you can't run after your toddler?
I can continue on the path I'm on. I can walk, and not lose any weight. I can try to eat "well" during the week, only to fuck it up over the weekend and slowly gain a pound here, and a pound there, until I get to that "oh my god" number, and I do anything to get back to something I'm not as humiliated to be.
There must be a fourth way
Monday, September 26, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
To track or not to track...?
I currently use Livestrong.com for my food and exercise tracking. It's an incredibly powerful program, and even has apps which I can use on my ipad to track my progress and food, etc. On one hand, I've had greatest success with weight loss tracking what I've eaten. But the caveat is, I can't just track most of what I eat, I must track ALL of what I eat.
This is hard.
I mean, how do you live real life? How do you tell yourself you'll track religiously all the time, and then when real life happens, and you realize it will take 25 minutes of cobbling together a recipe for something that's not in the database (because Livestrong doesn't personally know your grandmother, nor are they familiar with her gumpke recipe) how do you continue? Do you fake some calories and move on? Will you always remember that day that you "fudged" (oooooooh fudge) the records? How can you continue with utmost accuracy when you've already "fallen off the wagon"?
So Livestrong is a short term for me. I go at it for a couple weeks, then something like a festival where I work all weekend and eat questionable food at questionable times, or I drink too much Pino Grigio that I can't remember how many breadsticks I had, or if I stole some of Kevin's fries or not. And then I lament how much I suck, and start again.
But each time I feel less and less in control. I feel like it's the tracking program telling me what to eat, not my stomach, not my head, not my heart. How do we really learn this way? Is there room for a weekend meal at the Himrod Eagle, complete with popped corn and a couple glasses of wine, in a lifestyle that doesn't warrant excursions from the every day? If I had an answer for this, I'd probably not be 190-something....
This is hard.
I mean, how do you live real life? How do you tell yourself you'll track religiously all the time, and then when real life happens, and you realize it will take 25 minutes of cobbling together a recipe for something that's not in the database (because Livestrong doesn't personally know your grandmother, nor are they familiar with her gumpke recipe) how do you continue? Do you fake some calories and move on? Will you always remember that day that you "fudged" (oooooooh fudge) the records? How can you continue with utmost accuracy when you've already "fallen off the wagon"?
So Livestrong is a short term for me. I go at it for a couple weeks, then something like a festival where I work all weekend and eat questionable food at questionable times, or I drink too much Pino Grigio that I can't remember how many breadsticks I had, or if I stole some of Kevin's fries or not. And then I lament how much I suck, and start again.
But each time I feel less and less in control. I feel like it's the tracking program telling me what to eat, not my stomach, not my head, not my heart. How do we really learn this way? Is there room for a weekend meal at the Himrod Eagle, complete with popped corn and a couple glasses of wine, in a lifestyle that doesn't warrant excursions from the every day? If I had an answer for this, I'd probably not be 190-something....
How the hell did I get HERE?
I'm sitting here writing this while I have a few moments. Dreamworks has done a fine job entertaining my 17 month old, so well that I'm sure I'll be ostracized for letting her sit in front of "Despicable Me" for as long as I do. But this house won't clean itself. And dinner won't find itself in the crock pot with it's own four legs. And I won't be able to pour my heart out with a toddler clinging to my leg, arm, neck, etc. So lets get this started.
I used to be thin.
Well, not most of my life. Actually, the thinnest and fittest I've ever been, was when I was in my mid 20's. What a time in life that is! I was done with school, and I wasn't married. All I had to do was work. I worked, and worked out. The festivities of college life took their tole on me, and I arrived at age 23 with an extra 80 lbs. I can still vividly recall the burning red digital numbers as in the dark they screamed out "224". That was my "Oprah moment". I immediately began walking every day. I got my Walkman CD player (remember those?) and took off every morning, before the days heated up, and wore the same path over and over again. In 4 months I lost 30 lbs. I continued the exercise and eating habits (if you call a diet of Hydroxycut and Lean Cuisines a "habit" not unlike meth or tobacco addiction) and by the end of the year I was down 60 lbs. Life, was great.
So great in fact, that I discovered my boyfriend at the time and I had little in common anymore. I was going to the gym, I was changing my shape and my life. He didn't fit in anymore, and we broke up 10 days before Christmas.
My new boyfriend and I, we had chemistry. We had a great time! (We still do, we've been married 3 years and together 8 this December) Life was so much fun that I gained back about 15 lbs. Then in February of the following year, I had my wisdom teeth pulled. Something about the diet of mashed potatoes and jello for a week kick started me into getting back into the routine. While recovering I lost 8 lbs, and I was hooked again!
We BOTH started going to the gym (alleluia, the man and I had something in common too!) And before I knew it, I was down to 135 lbs. At 5'4" it was borderline, I think. But I had muscle, and enjoyed the power that strength training gave me.
And do you want to know the TOPPER to all of this? In spring of 2006, I received a phone call from a woman at eDiets.com. I had "used" their site (in a very loose sense of the word) to aid with my weight loss, and they took notice. They asked me to participate in a commercial, and they FLEW ME TO HOLLYWOOD California! A gorgeous hotel, an amazing town, and a great body to boot! I was in love with the new me! I was confident. I was flirty. I was sexy! Looking back, it was like vacation from myself.
I came back, and life went on. We started going to the lake on weekends, partying as one is usually inclined to in their 20's. The weight snuck back here and there, but 135 turning into 140 wasn't terrible. Then 140 turning into 145 wasn't the end of the world. After all, I was 224 once, and maybe 145 suited me better.
Well, this continued on, until I landed at 165. Ok. So clothes didn't fit as well anymore, but I wasn't hideous. So what if on my wedding day I was worried that my dress might split a little at the seam (and it did). It was no big deal.
And then I got pregnant.
Now getting pregnant at 30, is not unheard of. I know most people prefer to be a little younger, but really nowadays, it's pretty common, so I'm much better wrapping my head around the fact I was 31 when she was born. But I don't think my body could. During the pregnancy I had no morning sickness. And since most of my life I had no clue how to eat well, at least not instinctively, I gained 50 lbs. By my daughter's first birthday, I had lost only 22 lbs of it. So I was 192 lbs!
Enter panic.
It's funny how much kids change your life. You dont' go out to eat as much. You're constantly running after a toddler, and before that, tending to a very needy baby. You dont' go on vacation as often. So how did this happen? How am I stuck in this purgatory of the 10 lb bubble I'm in, which is a good 50 lbs away from where I should be?
This is what I'm here to find out. I'm blogging because I have no one but a teething toddler to talk to about it. I wish I had more to say to end this post, but I'm just at the beginning. I can't let life be over, the way I think I've let it the last 17 months (or more). I have a good 60 years left. Will I be fat and unhappy for them? Skinny and deprived? Or healthy and happy?
I used to be thin.
Well, not most of my life. Actually, the thinnest and fittest I've ever been, was when I was in my mid 20's. What a time in life that is! I was done with school, and I wasn't married. All I had to do was work. I worked, and worked out. The festivities of college life took their tole on me, and I arrived at age 23 with an extra 80 lbs. I can still vividly recall the burning red digital numbers as in the dark they screamed out "224". That was my "Oprah moment". I immediately began walking every day. I got my Walkman CD player (remember those?) and took off every morning, before the days heated up, and wore the same path over and over again. In 4 months I lost 30 lbs. I continued the exercise and eating habits (if you call a diet of Hydroxycut and Lean Cuisines a "habit" not unlike meth or tobacco addiction) and by the end of the year I was down 60 lbs. Life, was great.
So great in fact, that I discovered my boyfriend at the time and I had little in common anymore. I was going to the gym, I was changing my shape and my life. He didn't fit in anymore, and we broke up 10 days before Christmas.
My new boyfriend and I, we had chemistry. We had a great time! (We still do, we've been married 3 years and together 8 this December) Life was so much fun that I gained back about 15 lbs. Then in February of the following year, I had my wisdom teeth pulled. Something about the diet of mashed potatoes and jello for a week kick started me into getting back into the routine. While recovering I lost 8 lbs, and I was hooked again!
We BOTH started going to the gym (alleluia, the man and I had something in common too!) And before I knew it, I was down to 135 lbs. At 5'4" it was borderline, I think. But I had muscle, and enjoyed the power that strength training gave me.
And do you want to know the TOPPER to all of this? In spring of 2006, I received a phone call from a woman at eDiets.com. I had "used" their site (in a very loose sense of the word) to aid with my weight loss, and they took notice. They asked me to participate in a commercial, and they FLEW ME TO HOLLYWOOD California! A gorgeous hotel, an amazing town, and a great body to boot! I was in love with the new me! I was confident. I was flirty. I was sexy! Looking back, it was like vacation from myself.
I came back, and life went on. We started going to the lake on weekends, partying as one is usually inclined to in their 20's. The weight snuck back here and there, but 135 turning into 140 wasn't terrible. Then 140 turning into 145 wasn't the end of the world. After all, I was 224 once, and maybe 145 suited me better.
Well, this continued on, until I landed at 165. Ok. So clothes didn't fit as well anymore, but I wasn't hideous. So what if on my wedding day I was worried that my dress might split a little at the seam (and it did). It was no big deal.
And then I got pregnant.
Now getting pregnant at 30, is not unheard of. I know most people prefer to be a little younger, but really nowadays, it's pretty common, so I'm much better wrapping my head around the fact I was 31 when she was born. But I don't think my body could. During the pregnancy I had no morning sickness. And since most of my life I had no clue how to eat well, at least not instinctively, I gained 50 lbs. By my daughter's first birthday, I had lost only 22 lbs of it. So I was 192 lbs!
Enter panic.
It's funny how much kids change your life. You dont' go out to eat as much. You're constantly running after a toddler, and before that, tending to a very needy baby. You dont' go on vacation as often. So how did this happen? How am I stuck in this purgatory of the 10 lb bubble I'm in, which is a good 50 lbs away from where I should be?
This is what I'm here to find out. I'm blogging because I have no one but a teething toddler to talk to about it. I wish I had more to say to end this post, but I'm just at the beginning. I can't let life be over, the way I think I've let it the last 17 months (or more). I have a good 60 years left. Will I be fat and unhappy for them? Skinny and deprived? Or healthy and happy?
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