DAY 112: Vacation revelation

I just got back from my first trip of the summer.  It was full of things I couldn’t have done last summer, or even a few months ago:

  • Doing the look-what-I’m-trying-on ritual while shopping with a girlfriend
  • Wearing a bathing suit
  • Wearing a bathing suit in public 
  • Riding a zip line (I didn’t actually do this because we ran out of time, but I would have been under the weight limit this trip, when I wouldn’t have been a few months back)
  • Climbing up monstrously steep hills to get to the line for EVERY slide at the water park
  • Riding water slides in inflatable inner tubes (I would have been over the weight limit before)
  • Share a hotel room with another person and not be self-conscious that I would keep them up by snoring all night

…Which is why I gave myself permission to do a few things I haven’t allowed myself to do much of during the past few months on this mission of mine:

  • Eat a sandwich and fries from Wendy’s (it was the only option on the road, and I chose this over salad)
  • Eat a personal pizza from a popular restaurant at the vacation site
  • Eat free ice cream from the random ice cream social our hotel threw the first night there
  • Eat onion rings.  Yeah, that’s right.  Onion rings.
  • Eat a piece of cheesecake from a hyped-up cheesecake place near the vacation spot
  • Fall short on steps for 2 days (not consecutively, at least)
  • Eat homemade no-bake cookies (not more than 1 a day, at least)
  • Make my own MASSIVE chocolate bar and take 3 bites of it before sticking it in the freezer until after I win my 2 pending Kickstarter Diet Bets
  • Eat 7 Milano cookies

It may sound like I am getting borderline passive about my habits of late, but I’m not on a slide.  I’m still 100% committed to getting healthy, and still 100% confident that I can.  This is part of the practicum of adapting to real life permanently.  I’m not going to deprive myself of food when it’s part of an experience of being in a new place, and I feel comfortable partaking because I fully know — and stay within — my limits.  I am strong enough not to bow to group mentality.  When my friend splurged a little extra, like when she got a milkshake in the middle of the day and offered to treat me to one, I passed.  When the meal I ordered at the water park included chips in the price and they insisted they couldn’t give me a reduction if I didn’t take the chips, I still chose not to have them.  I am keeping it all in check.

I only lost .4 pounds this past week as a result of my slackened grip these last few days, but I can honestly say I have no regrets.  A loss is still a loss, and I made calculated decisions to deviate from my usual plans with full knowledge it would yield lower weight-loss numbers on the scale this week.  I feel at peace with that, and I feel pumped to see how much I can work off this week.

I’ve talked before about feeling in control of this, so that’s nothing terribly new or exciting.  The reason this was a big deal for me is that the friendship I ended in January reared its ugly head the day before I left on this trip.  My ex-friend sent me an e-mail saying sorry, blah blah blah.  I had to search my soul about whether or not I wanted to pick off that scab by resuming contact, even if only to say “too little too late, fuck you very much” and call it a day.  Do I respond at all?  If no, will the unsaid things eat me alive?  If yes, what do I say??

Instead of responding right away, I decided to practice this patience thing I’ve been working on and cool my jets about it.  I thought it over during my long walk before the drive to the destination the next morning, and I could feel my blood starting to boil just gaming things out in my mind.  Realizing that, and thinking of what a toxic relationship that was, and thinking about how quickly I said “I don’t think I do” when the friend I was traveling with asked me later if I wanted to be friends with that person again, it occurred to me that anything I said in response would be an invitation for all that negativity and stress to enter my life again.  I’ve come too far for that.  After four full days of thinking it over, I ultimately opted for sanity and decided to say nothing in response to the ghost of that dead friendship.

I did all of that, while on vacation, without surrendering to the mild anxiety of the decision that lay before me by pigging out.  I’m still nursing a damn heel spur, too, mind you.  I had every excuse in the world lined up in a neat little row for me to play like a poker hand in the name of over-indulgence, and I purposely left those cards on the table.  I feel proud and satisfied, and I completely stand by all of the choices I made over the past several days.

Nice try, old life, but you lose.

DAY 106: The best thing I ever did

Every time I see an article like this, I get a little self-congratulatory satisfaction.  I kicked the sauce 15 years ago.

As you can tell from the link, I’m not talking about liquor.  Luckily, I’ve never had much of a taste for most alcohol, so that hasn’t been a source of weight gain or an impediment to weight loss for me.  What I’m talking about is the equally dangerous, harmful, and addictive substance known as the soft drink (which I will refer to primarily as pop, because I grew up in a part of the country that calls it that).

For background, let me go on record and say I used to drink a TON of Coke.  We always had it in the house, and I would have 1-2 glasses with dinner every night as a kid.  Over summer vacations when school was out, I would come in from outside and pour myself a refreshing glass of not water, not lemonade, but Coke.  When my family would go to a restaurant for meals, I got endless refills of Coke.  I never. Stopped.  With.  The. Coke.  No one ever told me I should.  So, for my entire childhood, it was Coke everywhere.  Coke constantly.  Always Coca-Cola.

I was one of those kids who really trusted everything authority figures told me, especially my parents and my teachers.  Sadly, this means that if someone had told me when I was younger and impressionable that Coke was actually terribly bad for me — and probably if I hadn’t had such regular, easy access to it — I would not have been a pop guzzler during those development years.  When I finally did get un-hooked, it was kind of a happy byproduct of a different lesson I learned from an adult.

In my mandatory 9th-grade health class, it was the first time a teacher explained the benefits behind the then-recommended 8 8-ounce glasses of water per day tenet.  I decided I wanted to challenge myself to try and drink those 64 ounces of water a day, so I bought a 20-ounce bottle of Aquafina from the vending machine in the cafeteria one day and carried it around with me to classes.  I refilled it during the day from the water fountains in the hallway and aimed for 3 bottles a day, figuring that 60 ounces was just as good as 64.  I would make it through about 2 bottles in school and do the third bottle in the evening at home.  Boy, did I pee a lot all of a sudden.  I instantly became the girl asking for the hall pass in every period.  And my pee was no longer yellow, but clear.  I had never known that was a sign of good hydration.

When I first began that little experiment, I still went straight for the fridge for a glass of Coke when I got home from school.  Pretty early on, though — about 2 weeks in — I discovered I actually wasn’t thirsty for Coke; I was thirsty for more water.  (I now know that I was never thirsty for Coke; I was chemically craving it.)  I gradually, unintentionally, eliminated Coke from my diet.  Before long, I started learning how toxic pop is, and became intentional about my decision.  I avoided Coke almost entirely and drank exclusively water.  Not purely coincidentally, I was the only one of my friends who never had acne problems.  I was also the only one of my friends who didn’t have stained teeth when my braces got removed.  After a while, I didn’t even miss or think about Coke, even though it was still always in the fridge at home.  My little experiment that was supposed to be a short-term thing has turned into a permanent life style practice that I have carried on throughout my entire adult life.  In my early twenties, I graduated to a 32-ounce BPA-free bottle that I fill at least 4 times per day.  I take it with me everywhere.  I am never thirsty.

Almost everyone I know still drinks the fizz.  There are some who think it’s cute to constantly refer to their Diet Pepsi addictions, as if they don’t believe that’s actually a thing while they trumpet their dependency on that shit.  My friends, it ain’t cute.  I know I kind of got off that crap by happenstance, but I am thankful to my teenage self for that every day.  Giving up pop was the best thing I ever did for my health.

I’m not saying I’m better than anyone — I don’t believe that and I certainly don’t mean to imply it.  What I am saying is, that stuff IS addictive, and that’s the goal of soft drink manufacturers.  Our dependency on their product keeps them in business.  I believe that the reason Coke’s recipe is locked away in a vault guarded by dragons and rabid dogs is not because the Coca-Cola company is afraid of replication or corporate espionage, but because if the full list of ingredients were ever revealed BY the company, they would be admitting to guilt of willful and knowing participation in contributing to a public health epidemic.  If the series of links I shared at the beginning of this blog post didn’t illustrate the point finely enough, maybe this will: soda is extremely fucking bad for you.  That these companies are able to profit from marketing poison to the masses in an age where we know how terribly unhealthy this product is, is unconscionable.

I really hope that in the future, we will look back on the days of Coke and Pepsi with as much horror and condemnation as we look at tobacco companies now.  They’ll probably never go away completely, but they can be shamed and stigmatized into regulation the way cigarette companies largely have been.  Just as tobacco products are only available for purchase by consenting adults and labeled with warnings reminding you that what you’re consuming is killing you, so should pop be.  If that sounds extreme, I don’t care.  That shit is unhealthy, addictive, unnatural, a body pollutant, a contributor to disease and obesity, and pure trash.  Should that be in the bodies of children?  Should that be in the body of anybody?

I guess I’m feeling a little angry today about this.  I see people chugging carbonated sugar like it’s no big deal, and it worries me.  Diet-branded drinks do not make it better; in fact, they are likely even worse.  As I’ve mentioned previously, learning about food addiction has been a revelation for me.  In that light, I see the beverage addiction even more harshly.  I can’t believe we willingly put this stuff into our bodies.

That’s what this is all about, though, isn’t it?  We have to have that set of realizations that make us say, “Hang on a sec — what am I doing to myself?”  Whether that realization comes after a heart-to-heart with a loved one, through self-education, or by a complete accident, it has to come if you want to be healthy.  You are the only one who can make these choices for yourself.  You are in control.  You decide what goes into your body.  You.  That’s what I’ve always heard, and what I finally understand.

Funny, for all my youthful reverence of adult authority figures, it’s grown-up me who learned from my teenage self.  Seriously, high-school me:  thank you.

DAY 104: Off track(ing)

For the past 2 weeks, I violated one of the Dieter’s Ten Commandments:  I abandoned tracking.

At first, it wasn’t intentional. I was out of town two weeks ago and not preparing my own meals, so it became impossible/too annoying to do my usual food logging on My Fitness Pal.  After I got back, I used it once to calculate if I would be within my calorie restrictions based on my meal ideas for that week, then didn’t touch it at all the rest of the week.  (I do the same exact meal plan every day over a 7-day period so I don’t have to reinvent the wheel every day, and so I can cook once a week and just reheat like a champ the other days.  This is definitely the way to go.)

This past week, I didn’t log a single thing.  I didn’t even nutritionally test drive my meal plan before the weekly cooking extravaganza like I usually do.

I don’t consider this falling off the wagon because, well, I didn’t fall off the wagon.  In fact, the second week was more of a conscious decision from the I-wonder voice in my head.  “I wonder if you could keep control of yourself without tracking every single thing you ingest this week,” it taunted me.  That voice has evicted the one that used to tell me I could eat whatever I wanted today because it was the end of the world; the diet would start on a tomorrow that never came.  The I-wonder voice challenges me with things like, “I wonder if you can make it 150 steps in the next 60 seconds” when I’m on the elliptical and “I wonder if you’re ready to add 5 pounds of weights to this machine now” when I’m lifting.  I always pass its little tests.  So, I accepted this challenge, too.

Here’s your full disclosure now:  I had a mini ice cream on Thursday night and I had 3 cookies at a rooftop fireworks viewing party yesterday evening.  I would have admitted this, anyway, just via tracking rather than in long form.  (Writing it out still took less time than tracking it on My Fitness Pal would have!)  The ice cream, I would have had, anyway.  I bought it 2 weeks ago and planned to have it on the 1st of the new month *if* I nailed my mileage goal for June.  I did, so I did.  Oh, and I have a second container waiting in my freezer for some future time when I feel like it.  The cookies, I had only planned on having one and I ate three instead.  Here’s how worried I am about that, by the way; the old me would have kept eating them until she couldn’t remember how many cookies there were.  Translation:  I trust myself, and I’mma swagger about it all over this blog post.

So, did I get too cocky?  Did I give myself too long a leash too soon?  Is this the beginning of a slippery slope?

Well, I lost a total of 6.6 pounds during those two weeks, so… no.  Another victory for the I-wonder voice!

That said, I am now returning to tracking.  I still trust myself, and I clearly still have an appalling amount of ego about it, but I actually kind of like tracking.  Besides, it’s another metric and another piece that fits into the overall process.  I like knowing what I’m taking in every day, and I especially like being able to look back at previous weeks where I had exceptionally high or low weight-loss numbers and being able to tell between food and exercise what contributed to that.  However, thanks to this little experiment, I have developed a new muscle, which is the mental muscle of being able to gauge what an appropriate portion is, approximately.

I plan to continue tracking to the bitter end of this “journey” (God, I hate that euphemism — I’m sure I’ll over-explain that in some future post), but at least I’ve proven to I-wonder that I can go without that crutch when necessary.  For this to be a success long after the losing process is over, that’s an important thing to know.  Yay!

DAY 99: Dedication & education

June, like my stumpy legs, was short yet powerful.  These were my big moments of the month.


What I did

Went on a work trip for 5 days.  To get in all my steps and stick to my healthy eating, I got a little… creative.  I hoofed up and down 8 flights of stairs anytime I wanted to go to or from my hotel room and never strayed from clean foods or gave in to the very tempting buffet meals.  I met or exceeded my daily steps and lost 2 pounds while away.

What I learned
I can survive outside of my element because I am stronger than I think.

salad  possible

What I did
Added measurable non-scale goals to my focus for extra motivation.

What I learned
Achieving those goals feels fucking awesome.

towel

What I did
Had a minor meltdown when I saw a photo of myself well into my weight-loss adventure, still looking like a fat cow.  Hours later, I dragged myself to the gym and, without intending to, snapped myself out of it.

What I learned
No one and nothing has power over me.  I’m in charge, and I’ve got this.

got this

What I did
Almost visually sexually harassed a colleague when the weight of my cell phone in my pocket pulled my pants all the way off of me at work.

What I learned
Weight loss is hilarious and replacing clothes gets expensive.  I say both of these things with a smile.

pants

What I did
Started — baby steps — sharing my weight and weight-loss issues with people I care about.

What I learned
There’s a fine line between embarrassment and pride (in both senses).  I have to let go of my over-protective reflexes and let people into the scary places with me.

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What I did
Worked like a mad woman to get my steps in every day.  I missed only once all month.

What I learned
Gym shoes come in unexpected styles, and it doesn’t matter how askance the people on the machines around me stare at the girl working out in a T-shirt, business pants, and flip-flops.  It also doesn’t matter how late I got free that day; my gym time is more important than my ass-parked-in-front-of-the-TV time.  Finally, I don’t have to choose between socializing and getting my burn in.  The gym is open until 11 for a reason, and I can close it down with the night shift guy whenever I need to.  At least no one will be on the machine next to me when that happens.

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What I did
Stayed home, got in only a third of my daily miles goal, and took three (!) naps on a stormy Saturday.

What I learned
Falling short one day is not failing the entire mission, and listening to my body when it’s telling me what it needs is just as important as sticking to my goals.

IMG_1442
What I did
Set a goal of getting in 200 miles in June, and eked it out just under the wire.  And I threw in two bonus miles to grow shrink on.

What I learned
Those pounds I have to lose are in big trouble.

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