All In a Day's Work

You probably don’t want to hear this, but weight maintenance is work. It doesn’t come simply and it’s never been automatic for me. And when I stop trying, it stops working! But notice, I didn’t say maintenance was “HARD” work. I didn’t say it was impossible, or difficult or painful. Its just work. Like most people on this planet, I work for a living. I need to exchange my labor in order to buy the goods and services that I need, and the extras that I want. I wasn’t born with a trust fund (dammit), I’ll never win the lottery (since I don’t play), and my long-lost uncles are all debt-ridden. One of the reasons I’ve been able to support myself my whole adult life (okay, except for the two years I was out of a job), was because I worked in college to get a decent degree. And I got into that college by studying in school. Of course there was plenty of play involved too! I sang in musicals in high school, I spent a junior year abroad in college, and I’ve had countless adventures traveling all of the world at an employer’s expense. We no longer can afford a housekeeper or a dogwalker, and so no we do those things ourselves. Its work to clean the house, do the laundry, take out the garbage, etc, and it’s a chore to make sure that we let the dog have enough exercise and enough romps outside every day to be happy. But Devin and I do that because we enjoy our life in this home and in this city. In order to cook, I have to load and unload the dishwasher. In order to dress nicely, I need to do laundry (and FOLD and put it away!). In order to read the Sunday Times I have to walk down two flights and then back up again. Keeping my weight steady means I have to eat right, to keep exercising, to say no sometimes, to struggle occasionally, to ask for what I want, and to journal. And yes, it often feels like a full time job. However, just like my day job and my part-time job, there are rewards. I get compensated. I am not an indentured servant to the weight scale. The payoff is there, even when I can’t see it, even when I feel like giving up, even when it seems a little boring. Not a bad paycheck either. Good health. Great clothes. Self-esteem. Sure, weight maintenance isn’t easy. But so what? That's how life .... WORKS.

Take it from me!

God but I hate criticism. I'm certain that one of the reasons I've been so hard on myself my whole life is that by being my own worst critic, I figure it might lessen the blow when others criticize me. Of course, as Devin points out (ad nauseum, I might add!) "in the absence of information, Jonathan assumes the negative." Which is to say, most of the time, what people are telling me is INFORMATION, and its only my hyper-sensitivity that makes it feel so bad. Trust me, I'm working on this. I didn't spend all of those hours in therapy for nothing. I know better than to assume that comments that seemingly are made about my work, my appearance, or heck, even my dog, are usually not about ME. And I also know that I don't have ESP, so if someone hasn't said anything, that's not a criticism either. As you know, I use my bicycle as a transportation device (i.e. not for exercise, but for practical errands and commuting). Lately, on several different occasions in different places, someone has come up to me while I was affixing my bike with MULTIPLE locks to a sturdy steel pole and said "Hey, I just want you to know – its really dangerous to leave a bike around here. You oughtta be careful." And of course, my response was NEVER EVER to say "Thanks" but instead to get all ticked off. "YEAH, I KNOW THAT" or "YOU SEE HOW I'M LOCKING THIS?" As if they person had told me I was being stupid. Fortunately, I know I'm not alone in this. A friend of mine who is pregnant told me she is up to HERE with random strangers coming up to her and explaining what she should and shouldn't do in order to have a healthy baby. And many of these people are men! As if, --as she put it-- being a woman, she couldn't figure it out for herself? All of this makes me shy away from giving 'advice.' So often, what is well intentioned advice can seem condescending or superfluous or preachy. That's why I'm all about asking questions. On the other hand, Devin has a close friend who called him with a double crisis ("should I dump my boyfriend" and "should I sell my condo") and I had to break my advice rule. My advice? "Don't ADVISE him one way or the other. Because no matter what transpires, you'll be blamed!" "But what should I DO?" asked Devin. And I replied, "Reflect his feelings, acknowledge his anxiety and ask him to trust his own instincts. Ask him what he is feeling and why. But never, ever tell him what to do!" And that's the only advice I'll ever give.

Great Expectations

Today I was struck by a quote which Debbi found and put in her blog: "Life wouldn't be so difficult if we didn't expect it to be so easy!" First off, it made me chuckle, but the meaning definitely rattled around in my brain all day today. So I got to thinking. A lot of times I get focused on the difficulty of maintaining, the hardship or not regaining my weight, the frustrations I go through to stay at that healthy number. But, hello? What was I expecting, exactly when I walked into that first meeting four and a half years ago? Well, let's see.... for one, I wanted to prove that I wasn't really overweight and that if I was, that it had nothing to do with what I was eating! And if I did lose weight, well then I would be cured, because I would then become one of those 'thin people' that I see walking around all over the place eating whatever they want. And of course, during the weight loss event (which would of course have a clear start and a clear finish), I would completely eliminate anything I liked that had any significant calories because that way I could lose really fast (and get back to eating everything I liked that had any significant calories...). I figured losing weight would be quick and painful, and then I would step through a door into that never-never land of cupcakes and pizza and cookies and never have to look back. And naturally, I figured it had to be really, really easy. Yeah, right. Reality check. Well, it was kind of a bummer when I found out that I was 45 pounds higher then the highest weight recommended for my height. It was worse when I found out that those 45 extra pounds had EVERYTHING to do with what I was eating (and nothing to do with some mysterious undiagnosed illness that I was just SURE I had!). Worse, I found out that not only did I have to keep eating the food I liked (wouldn't deprivation work better?), but that --horror of horrors-- I began to healthy foods that I liked just as much as the unhealthy ones! Vegetables? Me? I don't think so! So what should I have expected? That this was a life long learning process without beginning or end. That 'perfection' is a really lousy way to lose weight and doesn't work at all for maintaining weight loss. That changing my relationship to food would also mess up a lot of the friendships I had which were based on uncontrolled, unhealthy eating. That being healthy has a lot less to do with the number on the Information Machine then it does with your heart, your lungs, your blood sugar, your skin, your bones, etc. etc. That --at least at times-- this whole thing would be a full time job. But if I had known to expect JUST those things, I don't think I would have been particularly satisfied. It all looks hard enough and strange enough that it makes the whole thing seem pointless and undesirable. Which led me to spend some time today thinking about whether there was, indeed, anything fun or easy about maintenance at all? Since my initial expectations were so ludicrous, was I just doomed to having 'learned my lesson' and then forced to slog through the rest of my life like this? Well, in a word, no. There were so many things I learned about myself this go-round. I realized that it was okay to ask for what I wanted in life. Sometimes I'll get it and sometimes I won't. But asking doesn't cost anything and it has a big payoff. It also became clear that after hiding behind a coma-inducing wall of sugar and surrounded by a layer of fat, I had not only been trying to protect myself, I had also been unintentionally preventing myself from learning what I really needed to do to make my life better. During this process of self-discovery, it became increasingly clear that life without oreos, or pizza, or ice cream, was one way to lose weight, but definitely not the best way. And when my palate became accustomed to new tastes and spices and smells, I found out that, in truth, an artfully sauteed cup of mixed vegetables could actually satisfy a craving and become something I looked forward to with genuine pleasure. One of the most suprising revelations when I hit goal, was that my body began feeling natural to me. Or perhaps another way to say it, I began to FEEL my body for the first time in my life. Whether I'm walking, making love, taking a shower, or sitting at my desk, I'm aware of my body and I'm aware of the interplay of my muscles, and bones and organs. And what's FUN about maintaining? Well, I get a kick out of the fact that the only reason I have a hard time getting dressed is that now EVERYTHING I own fits me well. And even four years into this, I occasionally catch my reflection in the mirror and the thought registers that I just spotted a THIN person. I love the fact that I fit in bus seats (let alone airplane seats!). In fact my only seating complaint now, is that everything I sit on seems so hard! These days, I can no longer tell what year a photograph was taken, because I look pretty much the same year after year. For the first time in my adult life, I stopped experimenting with my hairstyle as a way to look thinner! And my bathing suits are now suffering from old age, rather than too too tight of a fit. People that I've met the past few years have never known me to be overweight, and express no surprise whatever that I always make sure to drink water, order lighter meals, and exercise frequently. In their eyes, this is what they EXPECT me to do! I no longer rush to undress and dress as quickly as possible and with my eyes closed. Sometimes at the gym, when I'm just in my shorts, I actually walk over to wash my hands or get a sip of water without having to throw on a shirt to cover myself up. And as hard as this is for me to believe, I actually can't remember the feeling of disliking my physical self. Even when I was up a few pounds last year. Anyway, I could go on and on, but the bottom line is this. I expected all of the WRONG things when I first started, and yeah, that made it hard. Still, it would have been hard, even if I did know what it was going to take. But at least now I can picture all of the great food I would get to eat, all of the miles that I would get to run (Me! RUN!?) and all of the changes that would re-shape my life. Has it been what I thought it would be? Nope. Its been far, far superior.

Helping Hand, Part 2

Thanks to all for great comments on yesterday's post. Today I want to take a little time to explore the other part of 'stretchys' query. Namely, is it possible to stop mid-binge or to prevent a binge from happening? To me, the word 'binge' has some scary connotations, as I associate it with some of the more dramatic eating disorders that I've heard and read about. But there's no doubt in my mind that there have been times in my life where I've eaten to such excess that I feel physically ill and emotionally sick. Just for the heck of it, I looked up the definition in Merriam-Webster and thought it was interesting that the food-related meaning came up third. 1 a : a drunken revel b : an unrestrained and often excessive indulgence c : an act of excessive or compulsive consumption (as of food). To the extent that it occurs as a compulsion, I'm guessing that it would take some pretty dramatic intervention to assist in alleviating that behavior. But just like you don't have to be drunk every day to be an alcoholic, you probably don't have to be a compulsive binger to still have a problem. At any rate, in my experience, these episodes take on the characteristics of an avalanche. Which is to say it might start with one little, seemingly innocuous slip, but since behind that slip lies a whole unstable mass of unresolved emotion, once it starts, it really takes off. And only ends when the whole hillside has come down with a crash. So the question is, can the psychological trigger (a sudden and strongly felt emotion) or the physiological trigger (perhaps a particular food, or event, or even a scent) be prevented? Or do we first have to address the pent-up energy that lies further up the hillside in order to stablize the situation. I guess its a chicken and egg kind of thing. When I think of people who've demonstrated healthy weight maintenance behaviors, almost all of them talk about ways in which they let themselves have free rein at one point or another (either limiting it to a particular day, or a particular food, or a particular event). But actually I think what's key is not so much that they give themselves this freedom. Instead, I think what proves their success is the fact that AFTERWARDS they are able to veer back onto their daily routine. They indulge in a way that doesn't generate shame or anger. Seeing nothing wrong with a little extra here and there, they feel just as free to move back to journalling and exercising and the rest. Personally, I haven't been a great role model in this regard. My latent sense of perfectionism often takes over and suddenly I'm so worried about 'blowing it' that I get stricter and stricter with myself, making myself miserable in the name of 'success.' So when the tiniest leak in the dam opens, the rest of my tension, anxiety, deprivation, exhaustion and hurt come crashing through right after. And frankly, if you've ever been in this situation, or observed someone in this situation, I don't think its likely that the flood can be arrested mid-stream. If, for example, I was in binge mode and someone told me to 'stop' I think it would just make me more anxious, scared, and defiant. I'm not saying its impossible or it isn't worth trying. Its just in my experience, I haven't figured this one out. It can be very hard to remember at a time like this that when we overeat, its not because we are bad. Or stupid. Or weak. Or hopeless. In the moment that its taking place, this overeating is generally providing us with either a sensory positive, or an emotional positive, or a combination of the two. We do it because IT FEELS GOOD. At least for that short while. Knowing the very unhealthy long-term effects, however, I think those of us that want to achieve a healthy, sustainable weight will be happier if we can learn to avoid that behavior as much as possible. In recent blogs we talked a lot about taking care of ourselves, letting ourselves have a little freedom, and in forgiving ourselves. I don't really see any other alternatives. But let me know what you think. Binge avoidance strategies - got any?

A Helping Hand

Today's post is going to be a long one, but its in response to a lengthy query I had from 'stretchy' about the challenges facing her as she tries to change her eating habits. I am going to break this into two separate posts (i.e. more tomorrow) but today I want to address the thorny social side of eating. Paraphrased, here are some of the questions she had for us (please respond and help out!): How do I cope with feeling alone and how do I find a safe place? How do I respond to friends/loved-ones who engage in sabotage behaviors? Why does asserting myself cause me to feel depressed? Is there an effective way to diffuse hostility when the disagreement is over food? Why does it feel 'selfish' and like a rejection of our friendship when I try to make these healthy changes? Up front, I want to explain that I lack any professional training in this regard. My ideas and opinions are based on my experience, but are no match for a real, trained counselor. I know that cognitive behavior therapy suggests taking a step back to identify unhelpful patterns of thinking, then modifying or replacing these thoughts with more realistic or helpful ones. If you are physically alone and/or are physically in an unsafe place, those are facts that can be dealt with. But as emotions, these feelings are harder to dismiss. Restating the situation with new, more positive words, can be tremendously helpful. "I know I'm not alone because my [mother] [dog] [spouse] [best friend] loves me, just as I love them back." "I have the strength and experience I need to remove myself from unsafe situations and get to a safer, happier place." This is a simplification of the process, but the coping mechanism is based on planting good thoughts like seeds that may grown and flourish over time. In my experience this is powerful and transformative, if you can give it a chance to sink in. When it comes to the touchy issue of sabotage, my first response is to try and gain as much objectivity as I can and reassess whether 'sabotage' is the true intent. Quite often, immersed in our own concerns, we accidentally project onto others our beliefs about what they are trying to do, and incorrectly interpret their behavior. Second, when it comes to food-pushing, its sometimes the case that the pusher is either (a) trying to make themselves feel better and/or (b) perceiving that you are hurting yourself by dieting and trying to 'help' you. Seldom are true friends actively engaged in trying to hurt us. The example I can give from my own life is that when I visit my family, I receive all kinds of verbal and non-verbal cues that my desire to eat healthy is an 'obsession' that borders on 'mania.' When they accomodate me, family members sometimes make me feel like I'm being indulged or condescended to like a wilful child (I made a special trip to buy apples for you, this dish has vegetables, we're grilling instead of frying today, etc.). When they obstruct me (the kitchen's too small, its unsocial to eat separate food, our food is healthy enough, etc.) the message is 'you are selfish.' My family members have strong ideas about appropriate food behaviors, and none of mine fall into their acceptable range. In the past, I have found it so hard to assert myself, that I generally tried to suppress my feelings. Eventually, of course, I got to the boiling point, so by the time I did have something to say, I was angry, tense and feeling hurt. Unwittingly, by being passive, I created greater uneasiness than if I had been clear and assertive from the start. And because of this lifelong pattern, my family members in turn felt hurt, abused, and criticized by me and my actions. To some extent, humor can help. Not sarcastic, biting, or mocking humor, but gentle, quiet assertive humor. 'Here I come, the crazy Vegetable Man!' 'Don't mind me, I'm only looking for the fruit!' etc. This hasn't always been a sure shot for me, but it can't hurt to have a smile on your face in a situation like this. On a deeper level, it also might be helpful to understand that when we switch our own thoughts and actions, we automatically alter the equilibrium of the relationships around us. Its like tapping one side of a mobile and watching all the other parts shift and sway in response. The forces of inertia will initially be strong and resistant and will seek to restore equilibrium in exactly the same fashion it existed before. Only when our new stance is repeated, strong, and real will the others around us be able to adjust their own space to accomodate this altered state. All of this asserting can seem selfish and can be the impetus for changes large and small, which in turn can be depressing. But one of the things I notice when I observe confident people, is that through words, body language, and other non-verbals, they radiate a sense of self-assuredness and certainty. They may have their own self-doubts and insecurities, but the people we perceive as being confident tend to reject the idea that their needs are selfish, or that by doing what they want to they are causing disharmony. Why is all of this so emotional when it comes to food? I guess the answer lies in the fact that eating and food habits are so deeply ingrained in both the 'nurture' and 'nature' parts of our past, that changing our behavior takes profound effort. In my own case, and with many others that I have talked to, emotions can drive food choices, and vice-versa. I can't even count how many times someone has said to me earnestly and with 100% certainty that "I had to eat it, because my [mother] [mother in law] [grandmother] [child] [co-worker] [boss] insisted." In many circumstances when someone offers food, the social and physiological impetus to eat it is so strong that we are no longer in control, despite being rational, normal adults. So what is the bottom line with all of this? Well, I have only one principle thought: Forgive. Forgive yourself first. Forgive others around you second. And make sure to do it in that order.

A Friend, Indeed

Tonight as we were riding home on the train, I was talking to my friend Richard about a frustrating interaction I’d had. A young woman had told me that if she didn’t lose weight every week she would be ‘devastated.’ When I pointed out that its okay to lose weight slowly, gently, and sometimes even gain, she gave me a stony look and said ‘I just can’t allow myself to gain!’ In the next breath, I began talking to Richard about some of my own insecurity lately about staying around my goal weight. I’m eating right, I exercise enough, and feel like I’ve achieved great balance. But I’ve been having nightmares in which I see myself having binged and am feeling both ravenous for more and at the same time angry with myself for overeating. I have been experiencing a subconscious worry that this current weight is ephemeral – I’m doomed! Even though nothing at all is going wrong! At that point, my friend gently pointed out the (ironic) parallel between the two situations. Fear of failing, of losing control and not being able to regain it, of having to be perfect (ah, that dreaded word). And he suggested to me that what I need to do is have an imperfect day. A day in which I go over my calorie target, perhaps even delving into foods I haven’t tried in a long time (pizza came to mind!). I had to laugh at the difficulty of swallowing my own darned advice. ‘Its okay to be gentle and SOMETIMES EVEN GAIN.’ Sheesh! Its funny, because up until that moment I realized how much time I’ve spent trying to convince other people to be a little more human and give themselves a break, while at the same time I’ve been walking the straight and narrow with no deviations. As I walked home from the train station, I was mulling this over. As we had talked about it earlier, I imagined I would plan this day. I would carefully select just the right kind of food. I’d guarantee that my indulgence was totally worth it and enjoyable. It would be, in other words, a CONTROLLED overstepping of my normal routine. Fortunately, sometimes when my own naivete leads me down unrealistic footpaths, the fates have a way of intervening. Because tonight when I walked in the door, tired, hungry and not in the mood to whip up yet another delicious on-program, healthy food in proper portions, Devin said ‘Hi honey, would you like me to get us some Chinese food?’ So here I sit, surrounded by the detritus of a delicious takeout meal from our favorite greasy-spoon restaurant, empty mu shu containers, half a box of rice, and various cartons of demolished, devoured goodness, proving the point. Naturally, I didn’t really have that many calories left over for the rest of my day, so this was pretty extravagant. And its funny, but I don’t feel as though I’m about to gain back fifty pounds. I just feel, well, kind of normal. (And very, very full!) Thanks, Richard!

Sit Less, Move More, Keep Smiling

Its cold. Dark. Windy. Damp. Grey. Yep, that’s summer in my city of San Francisco! Of course, we DO have the occasional sunny day and sometimes it even gets hot. But this morning was pretty typical. As I made my coffee and looked out the bay window over the city, the tops of all the buildings were obscured by the cold fog drifting in from the frigid Pacific. Brrrr. So when I did my habitual Sunday morning run over to Golden Gate Park, it was only really the die-hards who were out and about today. And I noticed a couple of really encouraging things. First off, I was actually enjoying the run. I downloaded some new tunes for my iPod and I was having fun listening to them. That’s always a plus. Next I noticed that a lot of the people who were walking, biking, running, strolling and stretching were older. At least older than me! Which gave me a kind of reassuring sense that healthy activity can last a lifetime. Last, I realized that most of the people were either smiling or had quiet, meditative looks on their faces. No grimaces, or agonized looks, or panting from exhaustion (which is what you sometimes see with the Weekend Warrior types). This reminded me of an amazing personal trainer I had about ten years ago. He was a bit of a player and not credentialed, but he had natural smarts about one-on-one coaching that made up for any lack of book learning. This was no guy with a clipboard and a whistle around his neck who told you to do 50 pushups and then wandered away to talk to someone else on your dime. No, with Lamarr it was pure intensity. He had this maniacal sense of enthusiasm and as put me through the paces, every moment was about the workout. We never wasted time with chit-chat. He would coach me through the moves, and now and then touch the muscle being worked to emphasize the focus and the movement. In between he would have me drink water and he would set up the next routine. And what I remember most are two things (1) he always seemed to be having the time of his life and (2) I’ve never worked out harder, before or since then. The best advice Lamarr ever gave me was about my workout demeanor. The other day I was in the gym and this buff-looking fellow in there was groaning and grunting and occasionally screaming as his partner pushed him through each exercise. But that’s not how we did it. Lamarr forbid frowning or vocal expressions. He told me that not only did those things waste energy, they completely removed the focus from the muscle being worked. He encouraged me to adopt a quiet facial expression and focus all of my thoughts on “exploding” the muscle. Bang. Bang. It was amazingly effective. I keep this in mind whether I’m stretching, lifting weights or running. And it can turn my mood around very quickly. Smiling is contagious, even when you’re the only one doing it.