Adding Insult to Injury

As my Constant Readers may know, I started this blog in March 2008 after three months of successful dieting. My theory was that a blog should have a topic, but I stray from the topic much (most) of the time. I found that 24-7 of any topic would likely become dull, and my Constant Readers (ha ha like all 5 of you) would tire of my writing if I were to describe each and every mind battle over baked goods. Over the holidays, I have strayed from the topic again...and the diet.

This I knew without benefit of a scale. First off, I have been pretty much feeding on every cookie or candy placed within 20 or 30 feet of my location. I have also been celebrating the holidays with my family (read: drinking like a lush). I even played beer pong on a not so distant occasion, and my losses were not logged in my spreadsheet. In fact, as you know, I have been spread sheet free since October.

Second, my pants don't fit again. Those stupid jeans I bought while possessed by some demon are now the only things I have to wear. This because I dared to be optimistic (and really needed closet space) and I gave my old jeans to the less fortunate. I am such a moron.

But its a New Year, and I have a New Toy. Wii Fit has come to reside in my humble abode...and...it has (deep breath) a scale. Not only this, it is able to compute my body mass index and tell me I am overweight. It is also able to give me a goal, and compute that to get just into the "normal" range, I need to lose 7 pounds. To get almost squarely into the safe zone, it is more like 22.8 pounds. (It would not let me increase my desired weight loss any more than that...) It also told me I GAINED 3.1 pounds in one day. (I am blaming this on "different time of day", which is apparently totally legitimate. I am not blaming the delicious quiche and crab dip my friends made for New Years, which is probably more accurate.)

Sigh...I think I can do this. I did it (for a little while) before, and I felt great, I looked better, and I relished the possibility of a single digit size. I have not worn a single digit size since the 6th grade.

It is day 3 of renewed diet. Already, my jeans fit better. (Of course...I haven't washed them for three days either...)

Spelunking

Original Post Date: September 21, 2008

For weeks, Adam and I have planned to go spelunking. My sister was unfamiliar with this term and did a quick Google search on the word. The first entry to pop up was from the "urban dictionary" indicating that "spelunking" refers to a search through certain body parts for used condoms which may have inadvertently slipped off. The second entry to pop up defined "spelunking" as "exploring a cavernous cave". While I agreed that the word "cavernous" was unnecessary, I assured her that we planned to engage in definition #2...and to never never mention definition #1 again.

As it turns out, we did not go "spelunking" which, according to our tourguide, carries a negative connotation. It implies that we intended to "raid" a cave with disregard for its fragile ecosystem for amusement rather than education. So we did not go spelunking after all. We went caving.

Adam and I enjoy outdoor activities like climbing, biking, and hiking, and we tend to prefer National Parks over sunny beaches as vacation destinations. The hike in a cave, however, was a bit more extreme than any we had done before. First, the release form. These are fairly standard in the US, and I am sure you're familiar with the basic premise that these serve to inform you that you are engaging in some sort of dangerous behavior at your own risk. But this release form is unlike any I have signed before. Luckily, the full text is available online so I can offer you my favorite excerpt:

13. Injuries are inevitable in caving some have occurred in Laurel Caverns even involving broken bones. Something as simple as a twisted ankle may require a long tortuous removal process involving up to twelve hours of immobilization in a rigid basket, thirty or more rescue personnel, an ambulance ride and hospital stay for X-rays and observation at the participant’s expense, and finally, exposure to unbelievably hyped media attention on your “dramatic cave rescue.” (NOTE: The grammatical errors are theirs, not mine!!)

Seriously. And yet, we still chose to go.

The guide begins her tour by making me sign a second form indicating that I am aware of my "inappropriate footwear" (no ankle support). Then, she explains that we will see bats which could be perched low enough for us to inadvertently knock them down with our heads. If that happens, we are to tell her so that she can put the bat back. Apparently, bats cannot take off unless they are perched, so a bat that falls will just lie on the ground and starve to death. Poor bats. I resolve not to hurt the critters, and we are off.

We ascend through the lighted, concrete topped part of the cave in about 10 minutes, which is the 55 minute tour for all ages. I can only conclude that it must be very boring. Then, we get to a more cavernous part of the cavern, and the guide tells us to turn off our lights, and we are in total darkness. Very cool. The eyes attempt to see, and the brain begins to invent swirling patterns - but site is not possible. The blackness is complete. Imagine being in a dense wood on a dark, cloudy night. This was darker. Close the eyes. Open them. The view is the same. We sat in silence, listening to the trickle of water which formed the cave throughout thousands of years. I breathed deep, inhaling the cool air, and was at peace.

After this, we reach the first "stream crawl". I stupidly ask what that means, and the guide explains that we will have to crawl through a small tunnel with an inch deep stream of cold water running through it. This was just as fun as it sounded. We then reach a narrow hole, where we are instructed to toss our belongings through to the ground on the other side, and then shimmy our bodies through the opening. I am reminded of that episode of Winne the Pooh, where Pooh gets stuck in Rabbit's hole, and he has to stop eating for days until he is skinny enough to pop through. Luckily, we did not have to resort to such measures. After this, we climb up a bunch of rocks, over a ledge, and then "chimney walk" up to a little peak. These parts were the most fun. Then it was time to make a decision: another "stream crawl" or climb over the rocks that form the tunnel. I quickly respond that we will skip the stream crawl. Next, the "moneymaker" which is another narrow hole which is best navigated by sort of diving in head first. This tends to empty the pockets of cavers.

On the way out, we are again charged with the decision to take or avoid a stream crawl. We decide not to be wimps and take the crawl. About 5 feet into the cold cold water, with my camera dragging about 3 inches deep, I see our guide's light 50 feet ahead. This seems very far away, and I think "Why did I do this?" because my jeans, which are technically too large for my reduced size body, are soaking wet. They become heavy and the cuffs begin to slide under the soles of my feet, so I have to roll them up. Wimpy or no, I think I will decline stream crawls on future caving expeditions.

All in all, I enjoyed the caving experience. Total darkness was awesome, there was a lot of old graffiti (mostly 1920's and 30's, but one as early as 1836, carved into the stone), and best of all, we were filthy dirty. Like fingerpainting, for some reason, being messy is part of the appeal of the activity. And yes, we saw bats, but they were all up at least 10 feet.

My flash was not able to overcome the darkness, but I got a few pictures that turned out half decent:

What Was I Thinking?

The topic of a semi-recent post was the way many of my clothes fit better after I had begun to shed a few pounds. This is likely because of a stoic refusal on my part to accept that I should have been buying clothes in the next largest size. My pants were tight, and I often had poor, umm, well let's just say I had digestive issues. Also, there were a few pairs of pants which I did not wear because I thought they were too short. A few months ago, the little stupid tab on a pair of dress pants came off (still haven't fixed this - can't cut the duct tape small enough) and I was forced to wear the "too short" pair of pants. Surprisingly, they were no longer too short. Neglecting the theory that I have, in fact, shrunk (my third grade self would be so happy!), I decided that prior to my weight loss, the pants were not low enough on the waist to provide optimal ankle coverage. In other words, my pants were not too short. I was just too fat. This has proven true with several other pairs of pants, and a few pairs of shorts.
But not all. On Friday, a rainy day which Adam and I had planned to spend outside, I reached daringly for a pair of jeans that had not fit properly last fall. They still don't fit - the legs are tight, the butt is tight, and my underwear is visible when I bend. Today, I put on a pair of shorts which I never really had much problem with before, expecting them to fit satisfyingly baggier. Not so. In fact, they are borderline tight.
I guess my standards have changed? Did they shrink in the dryer? I am just wondering what I could have possibly been thinking wearing these clothes in public pre-weight loss. And how many other long-forgotten fashion faux-pas are lurking in the depths of my closet?

Thoughts

Once upon a time, a certain lady we all know was blessed with jury duty on one of the hottest days of the year. "Yay!", she thought, "No office clothes for me today!" She listened carefully to the pre-recorded message telling her what sort of dress was acceptable (no jeans or tee-shirts), and chose a respectable pair of khaki shorts and a nice sleeveless shirt. Alas, at the check-in she was told her dress was "inappropriate" - her shorts offensive, and "her belly hanging out". In shame, she was forced to call home for a pair of pants as the man behind her (wearing jeans and a flannel shirt) was waved ahead.

Of course, this heroine was me. I was very upset when this heavy woman pointed out my belly as if I had displayed it purposely. While I have always felt overweight, I had never felt fat. Well, not portly fat anyway. Ultimately, I began to lose weight...six months later. (On a side note, it was also the day I realized a man must be given detailed instructions when he is expected to pick out pants for his loved one.)

During those six months I started feeling that I looked huge in photographs, I was unable to squeeze into my own clothes, I hated to see my reflection in store windows, and I developed an acute awareness of furniture creaking in my presence. I tried desperately to eat less, but continually thought of food. The negative thoughts were making me crazy!!

Suddenly, I had a new thought:

Realizing that cupcakes will be eaten and making choices to allow for the calorie splurge allow one to be healthy and human. Finding fun ways to be more active makes one look forward to working out rather than forcing movement. It wasn't until I began thinking positively that my body started to cooperate with my brain. Small, easily achieved goals that ultimately lead to a healthy lifestyle are key to losing weight.

Flowers Are For Skinny Folk

Driving home from work today, I saw a woman in flowered capris, as is the current popular style. Allow me to rephrase - it is a current popular style for some people. For this poor woman, the capris transformed her moderately oversized ass into a rounded, flowered beacon, visible for nearly half a mile. I feel for this woman. She probably doesn't even know what's lurking behind her, and it is just not the type of thing people will tell her. She looked (at her front) in the mirror at her otherwise normally proportioned body, and thought "These look all right."

I have been there. One day, our unsuspecting flower with catch a glimpse as she turns in just the right angle and realize the horrible mistake she had made. It can happen to the best of us.

One thing I found to be immediately noticeable after the first month or so of my diet was that my own clothes appeared to fit better. I often suffered the wedgies, tight spots, and unsightly bulges of clothes that weren't clinging properly to my body. Warning - this is extremely subtle, so you will have to pay attention as you begin losing weight. It is not as though your pants will suddenly slide off your body. But I encourage you, my fellow loser, to pay attention to these subtleties, because they keep you motivated when the scale is refusing to budge.

Now, it has been about 6 months since I began, and I have noticed that I have been wedgie-free for some time. (Of course, that could be the underwear I mentioned a while back...those suckers are on top more than ever...) I have even nearly conquered the bulging of the stupid pockets on some of my gym shorts.

...Nearly.

Looking at the Big Picture

I recently added a new tab to my file. I wanted to see how many weeks I was actually successful at meeting my two goals: to eat less, and to exercise more. This past week was a slight disappointment because I had no good excuse, like a holiday or a fun party, for my lack of restraint. It turns out, exactly half of my 14 weeks have been similar disappointments. However, I have still averaged 1614 calories over these weeks, and I have rarely exhibited enough self discipline to stick with anything for 14 weeks. I think I could do better, but I suppose I could do a lot worse.
For kicks, I visited my old fit day calender. For starters, it appears I managed to stick to the program for almost 3 weeks from late January 2007 to mid February so I have made definite progress in program longevity. I averaged 1792 calories in those 3 weeks. Compared to my last 14 weeks, in which my highest average was 1680 calories, I am not doing too badly. I have also averaged 4 times at the gym per week this year, and in those 3 weeks, it appears I lost interest in logging in the activities.
Looking at the big picture is interesting, and, in my case, gratifying - though not as gratifying as my recent trip to TJ Maxx, in which every pair of pants in my size fit. I haven't officially gone down a size, because I was never willing to admit a larger size last fall, though I should have. (I did try on one pair of capris in the next smallest size - while they did not fit well by any stretch of the fabric or strategic lighting, I was able to forcibly connect the button and zip up the fly.)
But, looking at the big picture in the beginning is overwhelming, and probably why most diets ultimately fail. I have taken a lot of good advice from "You - On A Diet" which suggests that weight loss is extremely personal, based on a person's habits, lifestyle, social standing (i.e. amount of money), and metabolism. To paraphrase, what works for me probably will not work for you, but I think it might be useful for me to focus in on the little picture (for me), and show you the process behind the progress. I find that focusing weekly on one goal (while keeping the over all goals in mind) has been my key - it keeps me from being intimidated by the daunting task at hand, and it keeps me interested for more than 3 weeks at a time. So, over the next few days, I will share some of my personal mini-goals, based on my past behaviors and inadequacies.
Looking at this week, it appears I will need to revisit a mini-goal: limiting my coffee intake.

Feeling FAT

I recently went to the government sponsored "My Pyramid" site and entered my age, weight, and height. Big mistake. This is the message which greeted me as I innocently clicked "submit":
"The weight you entered is above the healthy range for your height. This may increase your risk for health problems. Some people who are overweight should consider a weight loss program..." It goes on to provide "helpful" links for weight loss, not realizing that it has just insulted me. You said it Snoopy. Suddenly I feel very fat.

Here are some other things that make me feel fat:

1. Going shopping for jeans. Unlike you lucky men out there, it is not as simple as remembering a few key measurements for us women. Women must try to squeeze into literally 20 pairs of jeans, and usually end up buying a pair that doesn't fit anyway. Perhaps you have wondered why many women look as though they have painted their pants on - it's because the thought of going out there for a day and trying to find a bigger pair requires several days of preparation and a few stiff drinks, and this is after admitting that indeed, a bigger pair is needed. Oprah says women should buy the size that fits. This sounds like rational advice, but I disagree. I have a limit in acceptable sizes, and I will go on several shopping trips to find the pair of jeans that meets all my standards - in price, in looks, and in a size that doesn't make me want to cry. But I feel very fat when I have a pair of jeans that should be my size, and I can't even pull them over my gigantic butt. And speaking of butts...

2. My gigantic butt. I swear, it appears to be in a different time zone. I walk through a tight corridor or turn a corner, and leave a trail of random trinkets which have been knocked from their perches by my bum. I have several figurines with superglued paws and chipped ears due to this phenomenon.

3. Dining rooms. Have you ever walked through a dining room and rattled every dish in the china cabinet with your giant steps? If not, you are presumably skinny. In my case, I feel like a ginormous cow stampeding through a house.

4. Eating "the whole thing". Many times I go to dinner with my very nice but annoyingly dainty friends who invariably ask for "the box" at restaurants. Not me. I am practically licking my plate clean even though I have just stuffed myself with enough food to feed an African family for a week. I rarely get dessert though. Does that gain me credits for self restraint?

5. Going to the doctor. I believe I have recently entered a tirade on my feelings about scales. But when at the doctor's, this embarrassment is unavoidable, and to make things worse, another person is present. And this person gives no credit for shoes and clothes. (I usually attribute at least 10 pounds to account for these items.) AND this person records the findings in a little chart for posterity. Really, it is just mean.

6. My extra large undies. My sister accidentally purchased extra large underwear which cannot be returned, and rather than try them on herself, she gave them to me. So sweet. They fit ok. See what I mean about acceptable sizes?? I do not want to be an extra large!! It has taken years for me to be comfortable with the large, and now I have to add an X in front of it? If I ever need to buy underwear in the future, I'll be getting the X-free type. But I am sad to admit, those rouge pairs in my drawer are pretty comfy. They probably shrink when you wash them...

It Begins

Welcome to my latest attempt to participate in the latest technology, as usual, a bit late. I was inspired to begin a blog by an actual friend (my recent research into this realm suggests that one now has to distinguish between virtual friends and actual friends). My (actual) friend writes an amusing blog about her life, her baby, and her cats, and I have become addicted. Naturally, I thought I could also blog, if only I had a topic of interest.
So, in addition to mundane stories illustrating my hopeless illusions of grandeur, I plan to write many of my blogs about my recent attempt to lose weight. I am no expert in this category. I have never really tried to lose weight, but sometime last December between turkey binges and cookie feedings, I realized that my track pants no longer fit. (In all fairness, they never fit properly - I bought medium track pants, and I can only assume this was the result of some voodoo lighting scheme at Old Navy or a mega-sale in which size choices were limited.) Still, this was an upsetting trend which was becoming painfully apparent (literally) in several wardrobe items. Throughout the early fall months, I managed to successfully convince myself that the snugness was an illusion brought on by laundry related snafus. But then, those track pants forced me to face the mirror. And I did not like what I saw.
Since the first of the year, I have begun watching what I eat, and I have actually been successful - I wore those track pants yesterday, in public, and with a pair of shorts underneath(!) I want to share this joy with others in this blog. Because it doesn't happen overnight, and I have a long way to go. Hopefully, my trials and tribulations will inspire others (and myself) to continue living a more healthy, happy life!