Crime and Punishment

     I've never been a person who enjoys exercise.  I still don't.  At best I look at exercising as a chore. I'm coming to terms with the fact that exercise is necessary not only for weigh loss, but for overall health--and I'm getting my ass off the couch and making healthy lifestyle changes.  However, I'll be honest with you--I'm still not a fan.  What I am a fan of is food.  I've never been a picky eater.  I like to try new things, and at the same time find comfort in my old favorites.  I'm having to learn portion control.  I'm having to learn how to say no to instant gratification.  And you know what--- it's hard to do.  I'm a true believer that much of the battle for weight loss fought in our mind. Shedding pounds isn't just about changing your eating habits or your exercise routine.  It is about changing your mindset.   That my friends,  just might be the most difficult aspect of it all.  

     One thing I'm struggling with right now is changing my mind set regarding the balance between food and exercise.  I know that the secret to losing weight is burning more calories than you consume.  Simple math folks.  Calories in vs. calories out.  What I'm struggling with is a punitive mentality.  I have to stop the thought process that tells me that when I eat something "bad" I deserve to be "punished"--if I do the crime (eat something high in calories) I have to do the time (exercise).  I've got to realize that eating a enchilada is not a capital offense.  If I over indulge in tortilla chips on occasion, I don't have to sentence myself to two hours of hard labor on the treadmill.  (Can ya'll tell what I had for dinner last night?)  

     This kind of thinking is not healthy.  Quite honestly, it is the kind of thinking that fuels anorexia and bulimia--and that is scary.  Although I honestly don't think I'm in danger of succumbing to an eating disorder,  I do realize that  I'm never going to learn to enjoy exercise if I just look at it as doing penance.  If I berate myself every time I make a trip to the Mexican restaurant I won't enjoy what I'm eating, and I'll resent my next workout.  This is the opposite of productive.  I shouldn't be living my life like a character in some bleak Dostoyevsky novel.  Eating and exercise are not synonymous with crime and punishment.
     I think a more productive way to look at balancing calories in vs. calories out is to think about it in terms of debits and credits.  Here's an analogy.  If I charge X amount on my credit card, I'm eventually going to have to pay that same amount off.  It is the same with eating.  If I eat X amount of calories, I'm going to have to burn that amount or more off by exercising.  If you over spend, or overeat, there are consequences.  That's why it is important to budget.  Budgeting, whether with our money or with food, helps us make wise choices and avoid impulsive decisions.  
      Another part of losing the crime and punishment mentality is looking at all of the benefits I get from exercise.  This might not help me enjoy it any more, but it does build my incentive.  I can feel my stamina increasing. I know my heart and lungs are getting stronger.  Walking a mile used to seem unattainable. Now, I can routinely run/walk three or more.  Daily activities that once caused me to become winded such as climbing stairs or walking through the mall  are no longer physically taxing.  Another thing that build incentive is the fact that I can feel my muscles getting tighter and more toned.  While I'm still not totally satisfied with my refection, my changing physique makes me like the person in the mirror a hell of a lot more.  Also, I now understand what people are talking about when they say they feel good after they exercise.  I may not feel fantastic while I'm sweating it out, but I sure do feel better afterward.  I feel more alive while I'm awake, and I sleep so much better at night. These are all things to celebrate!  
     I won't tell you that changing my mindset is easy.  It is challenging to overcome years of negative thinking.  These old habits die hard.  But, I will tell you, just like losing the weight, changing my thinking is doable.  100 pounds ago, I never thought I'd be where I am today.  I've just got to keep believing and sending positive messages to myself all the while pushing the negativity back where it belongs.  

Praise Jesus, I'm Overweight!

     I'm so excited I could almost burst!  I could shout it from the rooftops!  I'm overweight, I'm overweight, I'm overweight!  
     Now, some of you who are reading may be a bit confused.  Anyone who reads my blog knows that I've been working my ass off (literally and figuratively) to shed those damn extra pounds.  But, let me enlighten you…and tell you why I'm so ecstatic.  Today, I moved down a category on the BMI chart.   Today folks, I became official promoted from "obese" to merely "overweight."  And, let me tell you…it feels damn good!  
     For anyone who doesn't know, BMI stand for Body Mass Index. According to the CDC, Body Mass Index (BMI) is a person's weight in kilograms divided by the square of height in meters.  An adult with a BMI between 19 and 24 is considered within the normal range.  BMI's between 25 and 29 are considered "overweight."  A BMI between 30 and 40 puts one in the "obese" category, and anything above 40 is considered "extremely obese."   Here is an easy reference chart for determining BMI. 

 If you prefer, you can also use the BMI calculator linked here:

http://www.nhlbi.nih.gov/health/educational/lose_wt/BMI/bmicalc.htm

I encourage everyone to look up his or her BMI.  It is an important indicator of your health, and can be a real eye opener. 

     I'll get real with you.  I've been in the "red zone"--and it isn't fun.  Being able to move from the orange zone to the yellow--well, that feeling is priceless.  Not only do I feel better physically and emotionally, but dropping the "obese" label gives me courage.  It gives me the push I need to be able to stay the course.  I'm less than 30 pounds from normal.  I can do this!  

     For a while now, I've been able to see some pretty significant changes in the way my body feels and moves--and that is motivating as well.  I see my legs and waist shrinking.  I can contort my body in ways that I haven't been able to in years.  Okay, get your minds out the gutter.  I'm talking about being able to cross my legs or being able to clasp my knees with my arms--its the little things.  Nothing in the plus size department remotely fits anymore--no tears over that one I can assure you.  I can actually see my collar bone!  I feel good after I exercise--not like I'm going to keel over.  As wonderful as those changes have been, I can't imagine what I'm going to feel like when I make it all the way to a normal weight for my height.

     I think the best part about reaching this milestone is the feeling of accomplishment that comes with it.  I feel like a million bucks because I've worked hard to achieve it.  I haven't given up.  I haven't thrown in the towel.  I've rolled with the punches when I pack on those extra few pounds one week out the month--although I will admit I still get a little panicked each time--even though I know in my head I'm just bloated.  

     Today, a friend posted this on my Facebook page, and told me she thought I needed one:

I want everyone I know to earn this shirt.  I want everyone to feel the kind of joy and sense of accomplishment I'm experiencing right now--because regardless of how much blood, sweat and tears it takes, this feeling is SO DAMN WORTH IT! 

Learning to Love My Legs

        Everyone has a body part they dislike. Plastic surgeons make a mint off the fact that women crave bigger perkier breasts, and smaller shapelier noses.  For me, though, the most loathsome part of my body has always been my legs.    If had a magic wand, and could change just one thing about myself, I'd wave it over my thighs and command the cellulite and saddle bags to disappear.
   I've hated my legs as long as I can remember. Along about middle school, perhaps even as early as fifth grade, I came to the realization that my legs were out of proportion with the rest of my body.  I can remember very distinctly, looking in the mirror and being acutely aware that my thighs didn't look like some of the other girls.  As soon as I was old enough to know the word cellulite, I began seeing it take up residence on my upper legs--and this realization killed me!  In high school, I remember fantasizing about saving my money so I could afford to have liposuction.  I'd look at other girls, with their sleek, taunt upper legs and wonder why my legs couldn't look like that.  I coveted a "thigh gap" before it was popular.  The thing is, my hatred of my legs started well before I was even seriously overweight.
     As I got older and packed on more and more pounds, I continued to focus most of my body hatred on my lower region. To this day, even after torching damn near 100 pound,  when I looked in the mirror all  I see is a fat ass and thunder thighs.   I see dimpled blobs of flab exacerbated by the fact that not only are my thighs chunky, they are also glaringly white--seriously, sometimes I think I can't catch a break.  I won't wear white or khaki pants because I'm deathly afraid that these light colors draw attention to this problem area (Plus, with my skin tone, I'm convinced that khaki makes me look naked).    
     Here's the thing though.  Even though my legs will probably never be my favorite part of my body, I've got to start seeing them in a different light.  Just like breasts don't exists solely to be ogled at, neither do legs.  They serve an important and functional purpose.  And when I think about it that way, my legs are pretty damn amazing.  My legs carried me on an hour long hike this morning.  My legs ran three miles through town, four different nights this week.  My legs are helping me get fit and reach my weight loss goals.  I've come to realize that I've got to make peace with the gams God gave me.  Maybe one day soon, I will learn to love my legs.  I'm not there yet, but its getting better every day.
     

Feeling Grumbly

     I really try to stay positive about my weight loss.  I try to use this blog as a vehicle for self motivation, and as a way to empower others who share my struggle.  But here's what I'm going to tell you folks…sometimes, despite the rewards I know I am reaping, and the promise of future success… sometimes the whole process of losing weight just plain sucks.
     I'm going to get real here.  I feel a lot of guilt sometimes about the things I eat, and sometimes I really fear failure.  I'm so afraid that even after all the ground I've gained fighting this demon called obesity, in the end, the food and the fat are still going to win.  It is a daily struggle.  It is as much of a mind game as it is mouth game.  At times it is all consuming.
   This week, I'm struggling because there are so many opportunities to screw up--and I'm really afraid I'm going to.   It's a week where I'm going to have to make some difficult decisions and set some priorities in order to keep my eating in check.
     Already, I've been tempted with a delicious muffin this morning courtesy of one of my sweet students.  If you are a teacher, you know that sometimes we get homemade treats from our students that are a little less than desirable--cat hair bourbon balls at Christmas, that sort of thing.  You know, the kind of treats where you smile and say thanks but secretly stash it under a stack of papers in your of your colleague's trash can.  Not so with this one.  Not only was it full of cinnamony goodness, but it was from a fastidiously clean household.
     Later, during our faculty meeting, one of my coworkers was lauded as Special Education Professional of the Year.  Part of the celebration involved cake.  Not just any old cake, but an exquisite buttercream  from one of my favorite bakers.  Had the cake been a Walmart special, I wouldn't have felt cheated by foregoing it---but when it come's from Thelma it is oh-so-hard to resist!  (I did, and I felt cheated).  P.S. If you don't know Thelma--trust me, you are missing out!
     Tomorrow,  we have teacher appreciation lunch courtesy of our PTO.  I really look forward to this every year.  I think I've got my calories figured out, and I have already planned my limits for what I will eat tomorrow, but having to spend the time to work all that out is taxing.   Why must I love Mexican food as much as I do if it has to be so high in calories?
     Later in the week, my mom and I are going to a mother/daughter banquet.  I'm pretty sure that the menu is fried chicken or pot roast.  Not sure how I'm going to ensure healthy choices there.  Knowing that I have to worry about it makes me stress.  Since this is a church function, perhaps I should just give those calories over to Jesus.  But something tells me that, unfortunately,  it doesn't work that way.
     Last but not least, Sunday is Mother's Day.  That means lunch with my family and dinner with the boyfriend's family.  Normally, I'd just take this as my cheat day, but with the other challenges I'm facing this week, I'm not sure I can do that.  I think I'm going to evaluate my weight loss progress for the week and make a decision on what I'm going to eat Sunday based on that.  I hate thinking of whether or not I can eat meals with my family as "time off for good behavior,"  but that really what's going through my head right now--and I don't' think that's healthy.
     So, here's the deal folks.  I'm feeling grumbly.  I'm feeling stressed.  I'm feeling like sometimes it just isn't worth the hassle.  BUT---Then I look at some of my pre weight loss pictures, and it puts things in perspective.  I just have to keep telling myself that I'll get through this week.  Even if my weight stays static or God forbid I gain a pound, I'm not going to gain back everything I've lost up until this point due to one lousy week.  I need to enjoy myself, keep within my limits, and stop worrying about it incessantly.  The hard thing is putting that all into practice.