FatGirl vs World

There's a much bigger post that I should be writing...but I'm just not there yet.
All I'm really able to say is that chronic pain/chronic illness are tenacious beasts.

It's kinda like swimming in the ocean and a large wave comes out of nowhere.  Sure, you're able to right yourself and get your head back above the surface the first time, but each subsequent wave takes a little out of you.  It makes the struggle a little harder.

Sometimes, you get your head above water and take a really big breath and just let the next few waves go over you. It's easier than fighting every single wave. It isn't resignation, it's conservation.  While you're under, there's some peace in floating and of being submerged.

But you have to get your head back above water and either you need a plan or you need help. Sometimes you need a bit of both.


I am okay.
I'm a strong swimmer.
I'm a bit stubborn.
But I'm not alone.
♡

**waves** Hi everyone -- I'm not dead, I promise.  I started the new year very hopeful and then got the wonderful news that I have heel spurs in both of my feet.  They are very painful and it totally made me slam on the breaks with walking, going to the gym.  Steroid shots didn't work, going to physical therapy next.  But if that doesn't work, I may have 2 more surgeries ahead of me.  Fun!

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DISCLAIMERS
1.  Rebecca Scritchfield is my dietitian and my friend.
2.  She did give me a copy of the book to review and enjoy, but not before I had purchased a copy for myself.
3.  I may be a little biased because I'm quoted in the book (pg. 219)

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It's taken me reading the book twice to really process a lot of Body Kindness.  My first read had me thinking that the book was organized wrong, and the second read had me convinced that you could read each section out of order and see something you might have missed if you read the book from front to back.  I realized that Body Kindness wasn't organized wrong:  it was organized to undo a lot of the familiar harm (from easier to undo to harder to undo) we've seen in countless other diet/weight loss/fitness books and articles in order to open the reader up to a new way of thinking about not just their body but, more importantly, their life.  I should have known that Rebecca would be sneaky like that and make the book a gigantic head fake (a Randy Pausch term for indirect learning).

Body Kindness is divided into four main sections:

1. What you do ("Habits like eating, exercise, and sleep choices");
2. How you feel ("The thoughts and emotions that influence your day-to-day choices and overall life satisfaction");
3. Who you are ("Your beliefs and values that help you focus on what's really important to you and why"); and
4. Where you belong ("The relationships every single one of us needs that provide the opportunity to be part of something greater than ourselves").

For me, it's humbling to think of my own life in the context of such miraculous and historical beauty [the Grand Canyon].  How can I waste another moment of my short years on this planet down-playing the miracle of this body I have been given?  From tiny cells we become the most beautiful thinking, breathing, feeling creatures on earth.  What an amazing gift we have been given, and how dare we squander and abuse it?

Just got back from a screening of Embrace and I think I need some more time to process. My thoughts are flying in a few different directions.

But I want to put to you all a question that I asked after the movie to the panel (but I am going to ramble a little more here).

So much of society and consumerism feeds off of insecurity -- keeping us from feeling comfortable and secure in who we are and what we look like. Essentially, we question our own worth and value.

The parallel in boxing is instability--when we get too narrow. When we "get narrow" it makes it easier for our opponent to knock us off balance at the same time it limits our range and power. Getting narrow with self-love often looks the same too--trying to take up less space and disappear.

The response is to "square up" (widen our stance to create a better foundation) -- sometimes only a single step in the right direction to restore our range, power, and stability.

What do you think is one way we all can "square up" in the direction of improving our self-confidence and body image efficacy? 

In my last post, I talked about the less obvious parts of weight loss as they relate to foundation work -- namely, getting your head/heart in the right place as a precursor to getting your body on board.  The next steps relate to the other parts of the pie (mmmmhmm pie) -- 1/5 exercise and 3/5 diet.  And it's really up to you (you know yourself best) to determine which to tackle next.  For purposes of my blog, I'm just going to talk about exercise next.

Exercise is a deeply personal thing.  Some people need to push their bodies hard and for other people, that doesn't quite work.  Some people (like me) are coming back from injuries and need to learn to trust their bodies.  Some people are working against a lifetime of equating exercise with punishment.  And some people are thrill-seeking endorphin-philes that want to push their mind and their body to some unnamed limit.  That's okay.  You don't need to judge yourself by what everyone else is doing.  Keep reading that last sentence until you hear the truth ringing in it:

I'm quite fond of saying that weight loss/health gain has 3 main components (I used to say 4, but I now include it the other categories) that are not weighted equally:


I wanted to talk a little bit about the foundation work.  That little slice of the pie can look very different for different people.

For me, the first part of the foundation was coming to grips with why I put on the weight to begin with (suffering the loss of my nana and my mother).  I needed to understand that trauma before I could effect any meaningful change in my life.  Otherwise, I'd be doomed to repeat the coping mechanism of eating over and over again.  I spent a good year in therapy to deal with my anxiety and did more work with my dietician to help understand the relationship between food and my sadness/need for connection.

The second part of my foundation had to do with coming to grips with my health and my body metrics.  I'm still going through this; starting over as someone with Celiac Disease and what that means for my diet and how I need to compensate.  But when I was first starting out, I think I needed to exhaust myself of all the excuses that absolved me of responsibility (such as a thyroid condition).  I needed to accept that my body was the result of my choices.  I needed to know my baselines -- my body chemistry, my body measurements (weight and tape measure) and my physical ability.

The third part was about changing my environment, my patterns, and my relationships.  It's not fun to take a look at your life and realize all the places that are pitfalls.  I had to own all the places in my life where I was able to make better choices but didn't -- because it was easy, it was what I always did, or what everyone was doing.  I had to be selfish and say "If I want my life to change, I need to change these things in my life."  And there was a lot of pain here as well as catharsis.  Doing this created space in my life to add things that would not only benefit me but benefit the people I cared about.

And the fourth part (that used to be its own category) is what I like to call "recovery."  I said that I integrated it into each category -- and it looks different in each category.  Foundation recovery is giving yourself the permission to take care of yourself and to let go of the rest.  Let go of the pain that disables you, let go of the grudge that eats away at you, let go of the people that bring you more sorrow than joy.  And then let go of the guilt of letting go.  Know that you can do these things and still survive.

I've been talking to my dad about his foundation, his path.  I said this to him privately, but I'll say this to you all (and to him) right here -- "I want your heart and mind to embrace this process.  Nothing to fear or avoid."  If you lay the foundation right, everything else becomes a product of self-discovery, of joy, of pride.  And none of it is because you're punishing yourself.  And that's what makes this time different than all the other times.

Doug Newburg has been scrambling my brain with his five questions:

1. How do you want to feel everyday or about your life in general?
2. When, where, and around whom do those feelings happen?
3. What gets in the way of those feelings or takes them away?
4. How do you get those feelings back?
5. What are you willing to work for? 

My mind has been bouncing around from between each question. They're so interrelated that you begin to find an answer to one and it starts spilling over to the other questions.

Answering "how do you want to feel" was much easier for me to answer in the negative -- I knew how I didn't want to feel: broken.

Flipping around the verbiage didn't quite work; the antonyms of broken didn't quite capture how I wanted to feel because I know there is no simple repair, no time machine to get back lost time, no erasing the feeling of being susceptible.

I thought about the times and places where I felt this "opposite of being broken" and came up with the time when I took a leap of faith (March 2011) and joined a boxing gym. I had only recently found my exercise groove, my diet groove, and needed to change it up a bit to deal with the plateau on which I had been residing. My boxing trainers made it very clear that my success required both my body and my mind. I couldn't let the narrative of being broken run the show. They taught me to fight for myself instead of fighting against myself.

Of those trainers, Randolph was the one that I bonded with for many reasons. I loved it when these young, jacked guys would come in to spar and he'd slip past each and every punch. More than anything else, he saw the fire in me and knew that if my body could do more that I'd let it (in other words, I wasn't one of those people who showed up just to burn calories, but I was there to learn and fight). He would only give me crap if I mentally checked out before I physically checked out (i.e., I had to at least try, even if I couldn't do as much as everyone else). Because of this (and his extensive training/certification), I trusted him enough to turn off my brain and let him take over.

I knew that the answer to both "How do you get those feelings back?" and "What are you willing to work for?" started in the same place and with the same person:



The good news is that my form is still pretty good. The bad news is that my conditioning is kinda crap (the respiratory plague could have a little to do with that). It's not as bad as he thought it could be, but I was winded 15 minutes in and my arms were noodles for 4 days after.

I am going back tonight.

How do I get that "opposite of broken" feeling back?
I get help from people that I trust and put in the sweat equity.

"What are you willing to work for?"
Myself.

Yes, I know that the more I work on Doug's questions, the more specific and detailed my answer should be, but for right now, it's enough to say that I'm willing to work for and fight for myself. Instead of working for and investing in everyone else, I'm just gonna hit the pause button to recognize that I don't need to prove my worthiness to anyone. I don't need to beg for their affection, approval, or attention. And if people don't know how I fit into their life, it's not my fault to cure or my burden to remedy.

Getting down to 188 lbs was awesome.  It was the culmination of a lot of work and dedication.  I was exercising on a regular basis, watching what I ate and logging about 85% of my weekly meals.  I was cooking for myself and enjoying trying new recipes.

And then I (1) got complacent and took a "break" (yeah, y'all know how that goes) (gained 5lbs) and (2) got injured (I hope y'all do not know how that goes) (see below).  I haven't had any consistent effort in the gym since hurting my back in February.  I went to the gym twice last week and spent the long weekend either in bed or walking around in pain.

FGvW would say "don't worry; focus on what you can do."  Robby, however, is all whiny and depressed. I never thought I'd see the day when I'd feel a loss of self, of identity without being able to work out and be strong.  I also feel like I have nothing new to say and/or that everything I do say is either "I'm injured" or "I'm depressed."

So yeah, you see two paragraphs up where I say I went to the gym? Well I made the mistake of jumping on a scale after a weekend of...shall we say.... indulging...

So I write this big long post yesterday about how I'm stuck in the gym for my running cause of my back.

Today I forgot my sports bras at home, so if I wanted to run, I'd have to go back home to get my bras, then go back to the gym.  But I didn't want to go back to the gym.  So I mapped out a 3.5 mile walk.

And then decided to not walk.

I ran on hard ground for the first time in a very long time (since 2006).  (even though it wasn't very fast, it's still running, darnit!)

It wasn't the fastest run.  It wasn't the most glorious run.  And I'm pretty sure that some part of my body is going to be sore tomorrow.  But the point was that I got out there and did something I didn't think I could do.

It still holds true that compression is not good for me, and that I shouldn't run on hard ground all the time, for long periods of time, or in a way that could hurt my back.  But so long as I'm mindful of these things, it's up to me to balance what I want to be doing in my life versus how much life I want to miss out on because of something that will happen eventually in my life.

I talk big game about #GoTheDist and this year's theme ("rebuild yourself") -- but maybe part of it is challenging ourselves to confront what we think are limits are.  I'm not saying we should go out and injure ourselves, but we should aim to discover just how exceptional we each are, how capable our bodies are, and how liberating it is to just let our body determine what it can do versus letting our mind sell ourselves short.

Who knows, maybe one day I'll be a part of a running pack after all.

I've met so many people who ask me one question in regards to the whole weight loss/health gain journey:  "Where do you begin?" 

I think people ask that because they're afraid to fail in the early stages of the journey, so they want to follow someone else's path.  That's okay.

In the past, I've said that people should start by (1) building a strong psychological foundation (i.e., dealing with their demons); (2) build a strong educational foundation (i.e., know the numbers and science about their body -- metabolic rate, blood tests, etc.); (3) and build a strong environmental foundation (i.e., making sure you don't have anything around you that can sabotage your success -- cleaning out your fridge/pantry, getting your family/friends/ducks in a row).

But, I think I'm going to have to take that all back.

That's really all after the fact.  The Epiphany has to happen first.
That's a tall order for some people.  Some people need a little help.
They need to hear the words from someone who has been there before, who has done it before, that it is indeed possible.  My dear friend Emily gave me the (subliminal) permission to succeed.  Not only has she given me good advice, but by her own success she has shown me that it is possible.

Think back into your past -- who gave you the permission to take the leap of faith?  Who provided the net? It's like the parent who held the bicycle until you were strong enough and confident enough to say "I've got this now."  You were doing the work, but sometimes you needed to know that someone was there just in case.

Now think about the person that you've inspired, or that you're going to inspire.  Kinda tickles, eh, to think that little old you can be the catalyst for someone to go on the adventure of a lifetime.  What do you want that person to gain from knowing you? 

And I'll call BS right now on anyone who thinks they did this 100% on their own.  Even if you don't realize it, someone showed you what was possible.  But kudos on you for taking the leap.

I've written before about what it means to be "on track" or "off track" -- and that if you feel like you're failing in one aspect, to put some energy and intention behind another part. 

Truth is that I haven't been taking my own advice.

We all know my body hasn't been playing nice.
I'm going to get a new set of MRIs tomorrow (in a fancy schmancy 3Tesla machine!) -- and hopefully come up with a battle plan.  It's not enough that doctors want to just deal with the symptoms.  I need them to attack the cause and get me exercising again. 

I don't think I realized just how important exercise is to me.  Part of the mourning process is (1) I feel like that since I neglected giving my body exercise for so long, there's this latent feeling like I need to "make up" for lost time; (2) I'm an emotional eater.  I'm not trying to say exercise gives me permission to overeat/emotional eat (damn you mac & cheese), but exercise helps balance my anxiety.  It gives me a release.  Without the release, stress/anxiety have taken a toll on my body in terms of stress eating and skin picking.

The other part of the mourning process is, well, the healing.
And the types of healing directly coincide with the "tracks" that we're either on or off:

• Mental healing -- forgive myself, allow myself to cry, get catharsis
• Food -- get back into food logging and asking myself "does this food get me closer or further from my goals"?
• Exercise -- do the physical therapy I already know to do, commit myself to what's coming
• Rest -- sleep well, wake up happy and hopeful

I know that when I can exercise, I feel better about life.  It's not about the results, it's about the behaviors.  I feel like I'm worthy of all the good things because I'm actively dedicating myself to myself.

Make sense?

Speaking of my back -- thank you, everyone, for having my back.  I know I'm not the easiest person to be around when I'm in pain, or even when I'm trying to process things mentally.  I shut people out and stop asking for help. But please know it means so much to me to have people saying they can't wait to see me back at the gym, or posting happier/more triumphant posts, or even willing to help me pull up my underwear when bending over hurts.  It's hard to feel this needy and broken.

I know it's trite to compare life to a rollercoaster—with its ups, downs, twists and turns.
It just so turns out that though it's trite, the metaphor is particularly true for me this week.

I'm also a fan of the dharma wheel (a reminder of the Noble Eightfold Path) and the related wheel of life (a reminder of the cyclical nature of life, death, karma (samsara)).



Life has beat the crap out of me in the span of 3 days.
Despite all the good stuff (like having a kick ass softball game in both my batting and having the game-ending catch (we won!)), the bad stuff dominated.

I am having a whole bunch of feelings and emotions.  And some bad habits are sneaking in -- e.g., my anxiety/stress-induced OCD and letting the bad stuff be a rationalization for drinking with a bit of abandon on Thursday night.   (Side Note:  was totally able to follow New Rule #8 while at the bar.  Some girl was in the bathroom crying because some dude said something lame and stupid to her.  I got her laughing and seeing the truth of the situation.)  But I'm trying to be present and admit that those emotions exist.

So, I'm trying to follow some of my own best advice and trying to allow for the emotions I'm having, but at the same time being compassionate (not judgmental) and rational.  I don't need to "be the strong one" or "put up a brave front."  Sometimes shitty things happen without reason, and even when you've followed all the rules.  Sometimes all you can do is say "let me receive it gently."  Whatever "it" may be.

So yeah the wheel stuff....I think the tricksy part about the wheel is that you can't always control or predict the direction it is moving it.  Wednesday started out good, then got terrible, then had kind of a high.  I thought that the high was the relief of acceptance and knowing that things would be okay.  Then Thursday turned that feeling on its head, kicked it a few times, and left it out to rot in the mid-day sun, all the while trying to be mature and compassionate.  Today (Friday) was non-stop work at the computer all-day long.  I was too busy to process or decompress.  I just have to keep on steering in the direction I want to go, being careful not to over-correct and send myself into a tailspin.

In this moment I'm just really thankful to have great friends that I can lean on and two kitties that have been glued to my side for the past 3 days.

All is not lost.
I am not alone.

**waves**
Remember me? The person that used to post multiple times a day just last year? Hah! Not anymore!

What follows is a mish-mosh of things going on in my life and in my head.

1.  So remember this post about the blue dress?  Well, I wore it to my cousin's wedding this past weekend.  Apparently between the dress and my hair, I was unrecognizable to a few family members.  More than a few people wondered who I was, couldn't recognize me, or thought my dad had brought some hot date.  **falls over giggling** But best of all was my grandpa.  When I walked over to say hi to him, he said to me "Well here comes danger."  Hah!

2. Every time I get tea from the break room, I always think about my mom.  I learned to drink tea the Irish way with her -- three sugars and milk.  Years of three sugars and milk.  Even my coworkers at the Irish bar where I used to work made tea the same way.  Emily made tea the same way for me once.  It was a bit of a shock to see people drink tea with one spoonful of sugar or honey, and no milk or with lemon.  You know, kids learn what they live (both healthy and unhealthy habits) -- and sometimes as an adult we have to un-learn the bad habits.

3.  I like this article -- and especially this quote:  The action has to come first. You have to take the action before you know where it's going to lead you without knowing the outcome and irrespective of your mind-set or how you feel at the time. ~Rich Roll  I think it's very much like how Buddhists believe that control creates suffering -- if you're focused on an outcome, you stop seeing possibilities. And then there's the whole idea of "fake it til you make it" -- that sometimes the momentum of action leads to a change in behavior.

4.  #GoTheDist Stuff!! 
So many of you have been freaking out about the numbers.  Not just like "Eh, I don't think I'll hit 100%, but ZOMG!! IF I DON'T HIT 100% IT WILL BE ALL FOR NAUGHT!"  Crazypants people. Absolutely crazypants.  

First, how about a healthy dose of perspective -- how much would you be doing if not for the challenge?  How much were you doing this time last year?  Where's the line (in your mind) between success and failure?  It's not the numbers you need to freak out about, it's about how you choose to approach this.  You can either let it overwhelm you, or you can just say "you know what? I'm going to CHOOSE to do what I can, and I'm going to CHOOSE to be proud of what I do."   That applies whether you've completed 1% of your goal, 10% of your goal, 50% of your goal, 80% of your goal or 100% or more of your goal. 

Secondly, I want to talk numbers with you and I'd love to get some feedback.
How did you come up with your yearly goal, your quarterly goals and your monthly breakdowns? 

I looked at my mileage from last year (I calculated from October 2010-October 2011, or 254 miles), factored in my neck injury (I'd need some time in the beginning of the year to rehab), added a bit to make it a bit of a challenge and I came up with 800 miles.  To allow for rehab, I broke down my mileage into two halves -- the first half would be 350 miles, and the second half would be 450 miles.  I thought 300/500 would have been too lopsided of a split.  To do 350 miles in the first 26 weeks, I'd need to average a very manageable 13.5 miles a week on the elliptical.  Because I was unable to run in January, February, and half of March, I knew I had to haul ass during the second quarter (April, May, June).  The second half of the year works out to be about 17 miles a week.  Even with my injuries, I know 17 miles is doable.  If I come up short, I'll know that I did what I could.  If I end up going over that goal, I'll be okay with it because I know I afforded my body the time to rehab. 

So how did you set your goals? Did you look at what you've done in the past as a way to inform what you want to do in the future, or did you pull the number out of thin air?  I'm not trying to be judgey.  Your number is your own, but if you're not hitting your goals (or even if you're surpassing it by too much) are you being honest with yourself, your actions, your abilities, and your focus?

I'll repeat a phrase I love saying (regarding just about anything) DO THE MATH.
Don't pick goals out of thin air.
Don't pick daily calorie intake restrictions out of thin air.
Don't pick workout goals out of thin air.
Don't pick a random number of lbs to lose before you feel victorious.

5.  I've been thinking a lot about @KCLAnderson's post "Choose Your Easy" and my own reaction to it.   She was talking about the photo to the right -- "choose your hard."

It reminded me of the Buddhist aphorism:

Pain is inevitable.  Suffering is optional.

It also reminds me of the idea of the Second Arrow as well -- because the picture to the right isn't just about the physical aspects, now is it?  The subtext, in my opinion, is that choosing to lose weight and address the psychological issues behind it is hard (not just the physical act of dropping lbs).  Choosing to change all of your behaviors for the rest of your life is a hard choice to make (not just finding the time to get to the gym or reading every nutritional label). 

The picture suggest that while losing weight is hard, that staying fat is harder.  I don't think so.  I think the climb up from rock bottom is the hardest.  Being in a body that you have not treated with reverence and love is absolutely crushing some days.

I think that choosing to let go of the judgments that have prevented our actions is what's really hard.

If you've had "The Epiphany" you know I'm partially right.  While I think it's easier for someone to say they decided to lose weight because they were "tired of being fat," I suspect that the real reason was because they realized that fat or not that they were worth the air they breathed and the space they occupied in this world.  It's about New Rule 4b:  I am on this journey because of the courage I had when I took the first step.  Every step after that first one has been full of joy regardless of how my body aches or how much sweat is forming a river down my back. 

Most of us have chosen to end one way we've been suffering (our poor health) and take up the temporary pains that will ultimately liberate us from that suffering.  In regards to the second arrow -- we deliberately choose the pain to which we expose ourselves.  Sore muscles.  Blisters on our feet.  Callouses on our hands.  Early mornings.  Passing up the ice cream sundae.  But we have also learned to not judge ourselves or others for it.  There's no more second arrow when we say "That's okay, I'm going to do what's right for me."  I don't know about you, but I felt so unburdened the first time I stood in a bar and told a friend "You know what? I'd rather be in the gym" and she said "Well, go do it then!"

I think that when we decide to step out of our own way, we begin to be believe that nothing is hard (and thus not worth exploring).   Sure, some days are a challenge.  Some hills are steeper.  Some choices are more plan than impulse.  But when we choose to believe in our own self  we both broaden our knowledge of what is and is not possible and deepen our ability to trust ourselves.

But when you step out of your own way, you discard any judgement of hard or easy. 
All that's left is "This is what I need to do.  This is where I need to be.   This is who I am.  This is right for me."  You are not swimming against the current (hard), being swept up by the current (easy); you are the current.

No judgment.  No fear.  Just one day at a time.  One foot in front of the other.

Don't "Choose Your Hard"
Just choose yourself.
Choose your journey.

6.  Don't you hate it when you try to write a short entry and this happens?

I originally started this blog as a way to stand up for my wonderful fat self, to say that just because I'm overweight doesn't mean I am a bad person, lazy, or a failure.  Along the way, my blog became less about my own personal journey (though I still write about that) and more about the things I've learned.   I'm honored when people tell me that I motivate or inspire them, and I'm humbled when say that I've put words to their pain, their struggle, their journey.

Because of all of this, I do think that I understand the whole Clark Kent/Superman dichotomy a little better.  There's Robby -- the vulnerable person that still struggles, succeeds, and learns and there's FGvW -- the Superhero that advocates for the journey, the ideals, the pursuit of health.

The hardest part for Robby is when FGvW wants to speak up in Robby's personal life. 

Case-in-point: 
Someone close to Robby said something along the lines of "I need a full-length mirror to remind myself of how disgusting I am.  That will motivate me."

Robby understands that.  Robby has been there.
Robby understands how hard it is to "make love of yourself perfect."  (the June 2011 #GoTheDist Challenge was by all accounts one of the hardest I asked people to undertake.)

But FatGirlvsWorld knows that if you start this journey from a place of self-hatred, that you will fail.
FatGirlvsWorld also knows that the only way you succeed in the weightloss/healthgain journey is if you start from a place of overwhelming love and acceptance.

Robby wishes that she could wrap that up in a little package and give the gift of the epiphany to other people. FGvW knows that the epiphany comes about as a result of either exhausting all the other options, or doing the hard work of fighting all your demons.

So Robby stands by, and hopes that the people she loves are inspired by the path she has taken, that they see the person she was and the superhero she has become and they decide that they want in on it. 

In other news ...

Last night I wrote on my (personal) facebook page

November/December/January/February were hard -- not being able to exercise, feeling broken, and not knowing what the future held for me/my health -- but after running my 107th mile this month, I think I finally believe that I can handle whatever the universe throws my way.
Bring it.

I feel like I've turned a corner on this injury -- not that I'm 100% healed, just that I'm not so handicapped by my mind.  I'm (rightfully) letting my body take the lead.

Also ...

I noticed that there was a typo on my last post.  Normally I'd go back and change it, but I think there might be a little bit of wisdom in it:   I meant to say "Lift like you've never lifted before" and instead it came out as "Lift life you've never lifted before."

Now, I have no idea what my brain meant by "lift life" -- but somewhere between my brain and fingers, I think I was trying to tell myself something.  In meditating on this, I remembered the book "The Things They Carried," in which Tim O'Brien describes soldiers in the Vietnam War by what they carried physically, mentally, and emotionally.  More often than not, they came across as burdens and weight that brought them closer to their own mortality. 

I wondered if the weightloss/healthgain journey can be likened to a war -- where we have to decide whether the things we carry with us (and more importantly the weight we carry on our bodies) are bringing us closer to life or bringing us closer to death.

Was "Lift life you've never lifted before" a challenge to engage life and elevate that engagement to a place higher and more important than our ties to our own burdens?

Okay, maybe the title is overstating things, but here's how it went down (in paraphrase):

Trainer, Randolph:  Okay, everyone:  pull-ups!
Robby:  *hides*

Two people do their pullups

Randolph: (to Robby) Your turn.
Robby:  *shakes head*
Randolph:  Why are you afraid of? 
Robby:  *points to back* I don't think I can.
Randolph:  I did mine (he hurt his back last week)
Robby:  I'm afraid it'll strain my back. 

Another person does their pull-ups.

Robby:  Okay. I'm in.
Randolph: Just bend your legs (he was going to do an assisted pull-up)
Robby:  *tries to strong arm her way through it and fails, gives up after one try*
Randolph: You got to bend your knees.
Robby: I can't. I'm just not strong enough.

Another person does their pull-ups.

Randolph:  You've got this.  Just bend your knees and I'll help you.
Robby:  *mumblegrumblegruntbreathes* *knocks out 10 assisted pull-ups*
Randolph:  *that knowing look that Randolph does when he once again proves he knows more than you do*

I thought about my favorite lyrics 5 minutes later -- "There's a moment when fear and dreams must collide."  You must choose which means more to you -- holding on to fears that weigh you down, or hanging on to dreams that propel you to greatness.  That's the fight we're all fighting in one way or another, no?

In that moment, what did these lyrics reveal to me?

The lie:  I wasn't afraid of my back getting hurt.  My back was fine.  And if it hurt my back, at least I would go down swinging.

The fear:  Traced all the way back to elementary school and the Presidential Physical Fitness Test's pullups/flex-arm hang;  If there was one thing I was worse at than running the mile, it was trying to do pull-ups of the flex arm hang.  ((Raise your hand if you were also that kid would would rather get pelted in dodgeball than do anything that required upper body strength.))

The fear:  If I can't support my own body weight, how can anyone else support me?  I might've lost the weight, but there are still times my brain acts like I'm 240lbs.

The truth:  When I don't think I can, it's okay to trust someone telling me that I can, to let them believe in me more than I believe in myself.

The truth:  It's okay to trust that someone will catch me if I fall, especially when they've earned your respect in so many other ways. 

The truth:  People can provide the extra support I need to achieve a goal. It's not a sign of weakness, it's a sign of trust.

The truth: Try first before my brain decides what my body can or cannot do.

The truth:  Not a single person there wanted to see me fail. 

The truth:  "Someone I am is waiting for courage.  The one I want, the one I will become will catch me."

This really pisses me off:

"I know that I needed help to lose weight and I wrote to Dr. Phil, Oprah, Dr. Oz, and nobody would hear me or respond, so I decided to get in contact with Guiness Book of World Records.  And I thought I am already this size, so I might as well take advantage of it to get my story out there.... so I could get some weight loss help."  

WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!

I need to take a deep breath here because there are so many things going through my head:

1. This isn't the first person who has felt the need to gain more weight to get help.  I've heard many stories of people trying to GAIN weight so they qualify for a weight loss surgery.  This is so effing backwards.  In my opinion, health insurance companies should not pay for weight loss surgery unless it is the only chance of saving someone's life (i.e., they are in dire straits and will die if the surgery is not done immediately).  If a person is able to exercise and go on a diet, they should.  I'm not talking about the gimmicky diets or the "I walk to my couch" exercise routine, but serious concerted effort.  Sadly, most health insurances don't cover dietitians or gym memberships/trainers.  People don't turn to Overeaters Anonymous, or ther similar support groups, such as Weight Watchers, out of fear or shame.  If someone were to break their back in an accident, insurance would pay for the rehab to help them learn to walk again. Most obese people need to re-learn how to cook, eat, exercise and live.  Why isn't this considered rehab?

2. It's a sad state of affairs that people are using morbid obesity to (a) win money or (b) get fame/attention.  What's more unforuntate is that the public is so willing to eat up these stories.  I'm even guilty of it myself after having watched Extreme Makeover: Weightloss Edition, The Biggest Loser, Heavy, Losing It, etc.  We like the stories of dramatic change even when it's not a healthy way to go about that change.

3. Dr. Phil, Oprah, and Dr. Oz were right to turn her away (if that is what she did) as she doesn't seem to be sincere in the least.  If she had the epiphany, she would realize that no one other than herself is (1) in her way of succeeding or (2) the key to her success.  If she truly wanted to lose the weight at any point in her life, she would have found a way.  But right now, the addiction to food is way more important to her than her health.... Which brings me to...

4. What this woman needs most is a PSYCHOLOGIST to figure out why she wants the attention, why she's a compulsive eater, and how that is all related.  Whether she recognizes it or not, it is related.  I hope Dr. Drew is able to refer her to an addiction counselor/psychologist who can work with her on a long-term basis. 

5. In my opinion and my experience, I belive that you don't get to choose your addiction (alcohol, drugs, food, Angry Birds), it chooses you.  But at some point you get Stockholm Syndrome and sympathize with your addiction/captor more than you are fighting it.  The addiction is most dangerous when you stop fighting it.  Resigning to your addiction and saying "this is just the way I am and always will be" is not the same as surrendering to it and saying "it is stronger than I am."  If you surrender, you are willing and able to get help.  If you are resigned, you don't think any help (diet, exercise, therapy, etc.) will ever work.

6.  When in doubt, send in Richard Simmons.  I think he may be the original Honey Badger.  Richard Simmons don't care how big you are. Richard Simmons don't care how long you've been fat.  Richard Simmons knows you can shake your tush and break the cycle of bad eating.

#Fitbloggin's Ditch the Diet: How to Eat Intuitively panel was kinda intense.  I have lots of thoughts on this topic, so please bear with me if I go in circles or on tangents. 

If I were to say "at one point in your life, you were an intuitive eater" would you believe me?  When you were a baby would you cry when you were hungry?  You should be nodding yes.  Would you eat way past the point of satiety?  Probably not, and if you did, you must've been one little vomit cannon.  Now that you have more choices than a breast or a bottle, food and eating have become an emotional minefield.  I just wanted to say this early on to help remind you that if you were once an intuitive eater you can find your way back to being one. 

My journey into intuitive eating wasn't necessarily the kumbaya feel-good cathartic process.  It started with a few basic admissions on my part:  (1) I wasn't taught proper nutrition when I was younger; (2) I had no idea what my body actually needed; (3) I had no idea what my "diet" actually looked like and if my nutritional needs were being met; and (4) there's a difference between mindless/mindful grazing and intuitive eating.

I couldn't do much about the first point (though, forgiving my parents was a big part of it and letting go of the "if only they knew, I wouldn't be like this" grudge was instrumental in my healing).  However, I could work to understand and correct the final three. 

It is safe to say that I had been winging the whole diet thing for a while.  While I had a trainer (back in 2006), I had very little guidance when it came to nutrition.  I would run a 10k at the gym, do some weights and core work, and then go get a greasy spinach/chicken quesadilla and a beer as a reward for my hard work.  Of course I was frustrated that I wasn't losing weight faster!  There was a huge disconnect in my mind (and in my behavior) regarding fueling my workouts and my life.

For me, the answer was in gathering data.  I knew how to calculate my Basal Metabolic Rate/Harris Benedict Factor, but even that was just an estimate.  I needed something more accurate.  I knew a little about the BodyBugg from watching The Biggest Loser and that sounded like it could work.  I did some research and found out that BodyMedia made both the BodyMediaFit ("BMF") and the BodyBugg ("BB") -- the main difference was the software (the Web interface was different, and the BMF would measure sleep).  Otherwise they looked nearly identical.  In February 2010, I used my bosses' holiday/end-of-the year checks to purchase the BodyMedia Fit for myself. 

I started wearing it as soon it was charged, but (a) it would take a few weeks of information to see patterns emerging in activity and sleep and (b) I would need to go to a dietitian to understand the role food played in all of it.  But I was closer to seeing the whole picture: 

1. I led a pretty sedentary life when I wasn't busting my ass at the gym;
2. I was all over the place with food (eating little some days and too much on others); and
3. While I was in bed and sleeping for many hours, I wasn't actually getting quality sleep.

My dietitian filled in some of the blanks regarding food as well -- I was an emotional eater with a few trigger foods (Oreos and peanut butter (especially when in cookie form));  I didn't get enough fat, protein or calories in general; and that I was in an emotional relationship with my refrigerator. 

Breaking up with my refrigerator (i.e. mindlessly looking in the fridge as if something new were going to appear) was much easier than correcting what was missing in my diet and much easier than handling the trigger foods.  Dealing with the trigger foods would come much later in an epiphany of sorts. 

Re-learning about diet and nutrition was much easier once I was able to break up with the fridge and break free of the emotions that made me feel powerless around food.  Once I realized that food did not make me happy in the way I thought it was making me happy, it no longer held sway and dominion over me.  Let me rephrase:  I could be happy to eat something, but eating something won't bring me happiness.  I had to deal with the (un)happiness away from the kitchen.

Pretty soon I had cleared away enough emotional/mental space to deal with the questions of intuitive eating.  This is once again where the BodyMediaFit played a big role.  Once I knew how many calories I was burning, it was much easier for me to say "I know my body needs this" versus "I think this is what my body needs" or "this is what I want."  My ability to estimate portion sizes and calorie counts became much more accurate the more I used my scale and my BMF.  I also knew my exercise burns much better. I knew how much an hour on the elliptical would burn versus an hour on the bike, or an hour weight lifting.  I knew that I could adjust my diet accordingly and without panic.

Is this intuitive eating?  Yes and no.  It's the best I can do, but sometimes it falls short of my dietary needs. 

It's what I like to call "informed eating" -- I'm not counting calories as much anymore, but I am almost always wearing my BMF (even if I'm not syncing it or checking my burn on the display).  I am comfortable with the feelings of hunger I might have on a day when my burn is high.  But I'm also comfortable in sitting with that hunger knowing that if I'm within a certain range, that my food is still fueling my activity (I try not to have more than a 1000 calorie deficit and I aim for 750/ 1.5lbs/week).

Is this perfect?  Nope.  When I hit a plateau, I know it's time to start food logging again, mainly to make sure I'm eating enough of the right things. 

Have I had a binge lately?  Well I've overindulged a bit when it comes to vodka, but no emotional "ZOMG I NEED TO EAT THIS BECAUSE IT WILL MAKE EVERYTHING RIGHT IN MY LIFE" feelings lately.  I consider that enough of a victory for now.

I really do credit the BodyMediaFit for this -- it took the emotions out of the process of diet/exercise.  It was now a math equation (as many doctors and scientists have said all along):


The emotions have to find their own equation.

Language... has created the word "loneliness" to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word "solitude" to express the glory of being alone.

~ Paul Tillich

Did you know that "lonely" was one of the many words seemingly coined by Shakespeare?

Now, this might come as a shock to some of you, but for as bright and bubbly as I can be, for as much of a social butterfly as I can be, I'm actually very much a lone wolf kitteh.   At times this is exactly what I want, and at other times it is excruciatingly painful.

If you've met me in person, you know I'm warm and affectionate (I give good hug) and a laugh riot social instigator.  However, if you've known me for a while, you've seen me in my quieter moments.  In those moments, I appear either distracted, disconnected, or deep in thought.  Sometimes I'm just observing life.  Sometimes I'm overwhelmed by it.

It's odd to be both very social and very asocial at the same time.  I don't know which one is my nature and which one is what I've learned to be out of necessity.  Ultimately I think I am social, but scarred and imperfect.  My instinct is to be social, but I am often awkward and say the wrong things, then retreat into my shell.

Growing up, I experienced inclusion and (intentional/unintentional) exclusion/rejection from my peers.  My father (in the guise of offering advice) told me that no one would be my friend if I acted "that way" (argumentative, opinionated) around them.  He wanted me to be a bit more moderate/agreeable but what I heard was that I needed to abandon myself in order to please people. That never sat well with me.  I was argumentative (I knew the difference between debate and fight) and opinionated.  I didn't attack people, but I stood my ground.  I didn't want to be friends with people that were pushovers.  I wanted them to respond and be just as forceful as I was (sometimes a category 5 hurricane).

I also realize now that I stayed close to home because of my agorophobe mother (who was not only afraid to go out into the world herself, but was fearful for her kids as well; luckily I do not have agorophobia like my mother and her mother before her) and lawyer father (who saw the very worst of humanity -- murderers, rapists, child abusers, etc.).  I began using the internet at a young age (11 or so) and spent more time learning how to be social on IRC and aol.com than building connections with actual people.

[[Edit:  My mom died when I was 13.  I instantly felt that I was different because of this -- burdened with a sense of responsibility and seriousness from that moment on that would forcefully separate me from childhood.  There was a lot of anger coupled with this.  While other kids were able to play and go to their activities, I was doing my laundry, cooking dinner, cleaning house, and trying to make time for my father to do things with us (that he never did).]]

In college, I was more content to wander the streets of Washington, DC at night than to actually participate in the life that was there for the taking (except for that brief foray into the intramural indoor soccer club).  Years later, I find myself doing the same.  I'm comfortable sitting at a bar by myself, on a park bench by myself, climbing the steps of the Lincoln Memorial by myself.  Sometimes it just doesn't occur to me that I should be calling friends, booking my weekend to the gills.

That is, until the weekend comes, and I realize that I am alone -- for better and for worse.

This either makes me a good friend (the kind of friend that can always make room in his or her schedule) or a bad friend (the kind of friend that doesn't call to make plans).  Luckily, I have many friends that understand that I'm a bit of a social misfit and don't hold it against me (i.e. they know I'm not mad at them, just that I'm oblivious).  At the same time, I can understand how hard it is for them to always be the ones reaching out to me or the one making plans.

I hope to work on this.  I know I'll never consistently be the life of the party or the epicenter of action.  But I hope that in putting this out there in the world, it will show that I'm cognizant of my shortcomings and will be mindful to improve myself whenever possible.

So what does this have to do with the whole weightloss/health gain endeavor?  Lots.

When I gave up drinking (when I had to go on methylprednisolone injections for my back), people didn't want to tempt me by asking me out to drink.  (I think some people also didn't know what I could or couldn't do with my back problem.)  Likewise, now that I'm trying to lose weight, I think some people aren't inviting me out to eat or to parties knowing they're calorie bombs. I need to do a better job of (1) showing that just because there's food or alcohol around that I'm not powerless in the situation to be moderate and (2) planning activities with friends that don't revolve around calorie consumption, but rather calorie burning.


I also want to recognize how this relates to me and dating.  I'm approaching 30 and never have been in a relationship where love was reciprocal.  This just makes me feel sad, and yes, alone.  A friend pointed out that it is better to be 30 and alone than some of the alternatives.  I'm not looking to rate or rank all of life's painful experiences, just saying that this is something that weighs on my heart (making it look like a hamburger).

So despite my panic, I have a NSV of sorts:  I weighed myself this morning (something I haven't done in a month) -- and


I even lost .7lbs.

So, despite the unlimited buffets/a la carte restaurants, the all-inclusive alcohol, and not going to the gym and between dancing, swimming, hiking, going easy at the buffet, not getting drunk, and sleeping well, I found a way to stick with/close to the plan while having fun.

So for every good news, there's usually something that tempers the reaction:

1. Well for starters it wasn't anything extrinsic -- i.e. nothing did this to me, I did this to myself.  It is a sum of the choices I have made over the past 5 months.
2. I have not food logged.
3. I have been unfocused and joyless in the gym, intimidated at the boxing gym (not by the workout, but intimidated by the time it takes for my body to recover) and unable to juggle both in a schedule that works for me.
4. I suffered the extra long winter and then spring allergies mentally instead of just physically.
5. Life got a little overwhelming for me in terms of personal administration.
6. I let a boy distract me from my schedule.

And if you notice, almost all of those things has an obvious remedy:

1. Accept responsibility for what happened and move on.
2. Go back to what worked and start food logging again!
3. Tinker with the schedule and plan for feeling sore and be on the lookout for pain.
4. Now that the sun is shining, go outside and play! 
5. Now that those problems are all fixed, look for ways to be proactive about these problems instead of reactive. 
6. Include the boy in the schedule, but not to the exclusion of other things.