"Oooh, I like that too!"

Last night, our community group re-instituted the ice breaker. I don't know why, but I love those things. Quick, surface level questions that actually lead you to discover something interesting about someone you might not have known already.

The question last night was "What's your favorite candy bar?"

My answer was either a Ritter Sport with a Butter Biscuit or a Pay Day. It's probably been a month or two since I've had a Ritter Sport and it's been probably over a year since I've had a Pay Day. I really don't indulge very often on candy or chocolate, as I prefer to indulge on cheese (like those of you who have read this blog before didn't know that...).

It was funny, though, as people went around describing their favorite bars, I was like "Oh, I like that too!" Snickers. Reeses, both the cups and the pieces. Zero. Caramello. Sour Patch Kids. Peanut M&Ms. All kinds of good stuff. And, except for the Hot Tamales, I would say I loved everyone's candy choices. (I'm also not crazy about anything black licorice related -- but almost anything else is good. I also would say I like Butterfinger but I think it is nasty how it gets stuck in your teeth.)

Someone was like "Oh, you really like a lot of candy!" It's funny. Although I like a lot of candy (guilty as charged), I don't eat it much anymore. I guess it was just interesting to me that "normal" people don't like candy as much as I do (or at least they don't vocalize it, and some even comment on my like of it although not in a critical or judgmental way).

It is true. I love candy and, more generally, I LOVE food. But that doesn't mean I have to eat it all the time, or eat it in jumbo sized bags to enjoy it. These are lessons that I'm learning and, shockingly, even starting to believe at a deeper heart level.

I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks. At least one who wants to learn them, like me.

New Low

This morning I weighed 228.0, eclipsing my old low of 228.4. The funny thing is that I'm learning that just like food and my attitude toward it don't define me, my weight doesn't either. The next thing that needs to go is my identity as a former fat girl. I sometimes still think of myself that way (often?). It's not that I think it's bad to remember where I've come from; I think that's good/important. It's more that it should not define me -- moving it out of who I think I am at my core.

Now here's the thing -- every other time I've hit a new low in the last year, there is some sort of self sabotage involved (see picture above). It's never conscious and it's always subtle, but it's always been there. Soon after I get to a new low, I get sloppy or gain weight or something. I need to figure out why and not do it now. After all, if weight doesn't define me, why should it dictate my behavior? It shouldn't.

I am cautiously optimistic that this is the week I can break the cycle. I will be praying about this with my higher power. If you are into such things, would you mind praying for me too? I hope to have good news to share soon. Hopefully this is the time where I can break through this maintenance phase I've (unintentionally) been in for the last year.

Giving it Up

Since I started to attend OA (which I do pretty much exclusively on the phone, but usually 3-4 times/week), my journey to get healthy has taken a decidedly spiritual turn. These themes play heavily in this post.

This morning, I went to go see Fork over Knives. It's basically a film advocating a vegan-based diet and advocating viewing food as medicine -- something that can not only prevent but also heal chronic diseases (they focused on cancer, cardiovascular disease, and diabetes). A little preachy, but not too bad.

While I do eat tons of produce (I calculated last week that I probably have 1.5ish lbs of produce/day), I also eat meat and dairy. While meat is something that I feel I could cut out of my diet without too much heartache, I would have a really really hard time giving up dairy. I love yogurt. I love milk. I love cottage cheese. I love kefir. I love basically all forms of dairy that I've tried.

But most of all I love cheese.

One of the big arguments in the film against dairy was that it is high in casein, a protein that some studies show can encourage the growth of cancerous cells. I thought to myself, "If I had cancer and after researching it concluded that dairy was hurting me, would I really be able to give up cheese?" I batted this idea around for 5-10 minutes while I continued watching the film and decided I could not. I'd rather die than give up cheese. And I really did mean it literally.

Only after I rendered this decision did it strike me how absolutely absurd this was, and how deeply engrained my dysfunctional food thinking is. To be willing to continually self-injure or at least not prevent something that will happen as a result of your actions is just -- I don't even know. It's sad. But in that theatre, I decided I'd rather do that than to give up a food that I loved.

This reminded me of the passage of the rich young ruler in the Bible. Basically, a rich young guy asks Jesus what he needs to do to go to heaven. Jesus tells him he needs to sell everything and follow Him, but the man is sad and ultimately can't do it. And for me, the money is food. Would I really be willing to give up food and rely on Jesus instead?

It's one of those situations where you're not really sure until faced with the situation (as opposed to a hypothetical musing), but after praying and working through this issue much of the day I can finally say that I think I could do it. I would give up dairy if it were hurting my health or if I felt led by God to do it. And that is submission in its ultimate form, and a very huge step for me. One more step in this long, difficult journey.

The Heart of the Matter

Our family has terrible genes as far as heart disease is concerned (but great ones for avoiding cancer -- so yay!). On my Mom's side, my grandpa had multiple heart attacks. Both of my Mom's brothers have had heart attacks and one of my uncles even died before he was 60. Sad. We found out my Mom's mom (Mema) had blown a heart valve right before she died. Mema also had really really high cholesterol. On my Dad's side, my grandpa died while my Dad was in Vietnam of a heart attack. I know my grandma had a stroke, but I believe she also had a heart attack. My Dad's brother also had a heart attack -- I bet he was in his late 40s or early 50s when that happened. My Dad has had heart problems, although gratefully never a heart attack.

This is all in the forefront of my mind since one of my uncles was admitted this week to the ICU for a heart attack. It freaks me out because my Mom has struggled with her weight like I have and still do (although she has lost and maintained a 50-ish lb. weight loss for almost 10 years; very proud of her). She is older than her brother was when he died, and older than her remaining brother who had a heart attack this week. It is crazy.

It also makes me concerned for me and for my own health. I used to think in my 20s "This heart stuff only really becomes important when you're 40 or older." I am glad that I don't think like that anymore, and am trying to be proactive about eating (mostly) right and exercising most days.

I am surprised how much it is being underscored to me that all of this getting healthy stuff is so not about the skin deep issues -- about looking cute and skinny. It is about changing how I approach food and why I eat. I also initially wrote "it's about not dropping dead of a heart attack" -- but actually it's not about that. Instead of living a defensive life of fear where my goal is to avoid bad things happening, I want to live live on offense -- I want to be in the very best physical shape I can so that I can do fun things like climbing to the top of waterfalls or kayaking or running around playing with little kids. Really, it's all about living a full life where I enjoy myself and am not obsessed with or inhibited by the food I put in my body. To me that is the goal of this whole healthy living thing.

Irony

The title of my blog is that food will not define me forever. The genesis of the title is that nearly everything I used to do or think about revolved around food. Perhaps that is an exaggeration, but if so it is only a very slight exaggeration. I realized that having so many obsessive thoughts about food was extremely unhealthy and I vowed to change it. And I've made huge strides. But it's funny that a lot of my identity with some of my friends is still tied up in food. Let me explain...

I counted the other day and I have literally 15+ friends who are currently pregnant. I'm not exaggerating for effect; I literally have that many friends expecting kids, which is both great and kind of underscoring where I am in my life and where they are in theirs which makes me feel...well, I don't know. But that's not the point of this post.

For the friends in my community group having babies, we are planning on helping them by bringing meals soon after they deliver their children. This is a great service and I am so glad that we will be able to do this for them. I hope that it in some small way makes their transition to parenthood just a little bit easier.

It's funny, though, because I've only joined the group about a year ago and no one has had kids in that time -- hence, no meal sign up sheets for meal delivery service. People in the group are now so excited that I will be in the rotation to bring them food. They've made several comments about being so glad that I will cook for them, really looking forward to my meal, etc. I'll be honest and say there's a little performance anxiety it's causing!

Most of all, I take it as a complement -- that they enjoy my cooking, that they're looking forward to my meal. I am grateful to be able to serve them in this small way that I really enjoy (I like cooking a lot).

It's just funny that this one thing that I've worked so hard to have a functional relationship with and to move out of the center of my life (food) is a big piece of how people in this group view me. They enjoy my cooking (which is great and a good thing), but it is just funny given that I've worked so hard to distance myself from having food at the center of my life. Irony, for sure.

I told them and I will tell those of you who are my friends -- you don't have to get pregnant for me to cook for you. If you ask nicely, I will probably be more than happy to invite you over and cook for you. I really do find joy in cooking and sharing meals with others, even if it doesn't and won't define me.

Not the Answer You Expected...

The other day I was leaving work to go to lunch. One of the coworkers I don't get to see often (she is in administration and in a different part of the building than I am) was headed out of the building the same time as I was.

We made some smalltalk, exchanging our plans for and accomplishments so far during summer. She then paid me a compliment, saying I looked great. She asked me, "So I never did hear how you lost all the weight. What did you do?"

I am sure she was expecting a short and succinct answer -- something along the lines of Jenny Craig, or gastric bypass, or Weight Watchers. I simply couldn't give her one. The further and further I get down the path of healthy living -- a path along which the scenery and tools will change, but that I should never leave -- the less convinced I am that there are quick answers to what are meant to be easy questions about this journey.

I told her that I hadn't lost weight in a year, but that it has been an important year mentally for me with respect to staying healthy. I told her how I've worked to get a handle on my compulsive eating. I told her how I work to integrate exercise into my everyday life, taking the stairs instead of the elevator and riding my bike to work when the weather is nice. I told her that I eat tons and tons of fruits and vegetables and make healthier choices. I told her I had to focus on getting my mental health in order. I told her that I haven't cut out certain foods altogether, but I really make it worth it when I splurge.

Basically, I told her the truth. For me, the truth of how I've started to change my life and my habits cannot be summed up in a short 2-5 word phrase. It's the result of hard work. It's sometimes a struggle. Sometimes, I mess up.

And, finally, I told her I'd done Weight Watchers but that that's been a more minor piece of the get healthy puzzle. After all, I've been "doing" WW intermittently for the last year, and I've just gained and lost the same 10 lbs over and over. Weight Watchers is really a tool for me to manage what I put in my body, and not an answer in itself.

But all of this? This healthy living thing? It is worth it.

I can climb stairs without getting tired. People don't look at me with "that look" when I'm in public. I am starting to be able to shop in normal stores and normal sections -- ie, something besides Lane Bryant and the tiny corner of old lady fat clothes in regular department stores. I can fit into restaurant booths. I am not so fat that that's the first thing people notice about me.

And although Weight Watchers has played an integral role in all of this -- one that I will forever be thankful for and proud of -- I am the one who has done the work, with the help of my "higher power". And most of it has gone way deeper than just the food I eat -- to why I eat, how I view food, and the emotion behind the food.

And all of this? The changes I've made in my life? I would not trade them for a mountain of cheese dip. There really is life beyond the food. It's so much more than just looking cute walking around in nice clothes. And it is so so so much richer than I would have thought or imagined.

Upper Yosemite Falls Trail Hike

Me and Kristi at the bottom of Yosemite Falls. We climbed the whole way up!

So, as I said last post, I did it. I climbed up to the very top of Yosemite Falls and it was really no small feat: 7.6 miles round trip with an elevation gain of 2500 ft (that’s twice the height of the Empire State Building for those keeping track at home). And let me tell you...I don’t think I’ve had a more physically demanding experience in my life, or a physical demand with such a huge emotional high at the end. Let me chronicle the journey for you.

I got up at 3 AM Friday so I could shower and catch my 6 AM flight. I flew to Reno, where I rented a car. Google maps told me I had a 4.5 hour trip to Yosemite ahead of me. What it didn’t know about this trip is that it would actually be 10 hours due to navigational errors and seasonal road closures I wasn’t aware of, and that I’d get the first speeding ticket since I was 18 (I guess we'll be glad for the 13 year streak…). Sigh. I finally made it to Yosemite Friday at 10 PM, and was frustrated, disgruntled and tired. That all went away, though, when I saw my friend Kristi who I hadn’t seen since our November trip to Disney. It is always so very very great to see her, and was even greater when I learned some exciting personal updates about her life! She and I stayed up until 1 AM chatting and catching up – and yes, for those of you keeping track of the time difference, that is a full 24 hours of being awake for me. That’s really not the way I roll (I get 7 hrs of sleep/night like clockwork). It was a small price to pay to see Kristi and to have arrived in such a beautiful place (even though I could not tell it was beautiful under cover of darkness!).

The next morning I woke up at 7:30 AM. The good thing about being so tired was that I acclimated to Pacific time from central with no problem! Kristi and I got a slow start – eating a big breakfast, making sure to pack a healthy lunch and a lot of snacks for our hike, checking out the visitor’s center, seeing Yosemite Falls from the ground – before we finally started up the trail around 12:30. The hike was supposed to take 6-8 hours, so we all figured we’d be fine and back on the ground by sunset around 8 PM. And I would be remiss if I did not mention that the weather was perfect -- very slightly overcast with a high of around 60-65. PERFECT weather to be outside.

An overview of the trail. 135+ switchbacks. 7.6 miles roundtrip. ~2600 ft elevation gain.

When the hike started, I had serious serious stomach issues. I was not feeling well AT ALL and was not even sure the hike was a good idea because I felt so badly. I knew deep down that I would regret it if I did not at least TRY the hike so I decided to go despite stabbing stomach pains. About ¼ - ½ mile into the hike let’s just say the spirit moved in a major way (TMI) and I was feeling a whole lot better. I was glad that I had decided to press on and was now sure that I would make it up the mountain. A little bit later we stopped for lunch. I had the first PBJ I’d had in probably 3-4 years and wow it was great! I also had some fruit and a string cheese, and then we soldiered on up the mountain. The first 1-2 miles were not that bad. Some switchbacks, yes, but the rocks weren't slippery or unstable feeling, and I was grateful for whoever had constructed such a cool trail to the top. We made it to an overlook and I was feeling pretty good. I definitely wasn’t fast, but I thought “I’ve so got this.”

Us at the first big outlook. It is after the first set of switchbacks. A lot of people quit the trail here, but not us!! Great view of Half Dome in the background.

We then hit an odd part of the trail that took us downhill for like ¼ mile. For anyone trying to reach the top of anything (mountain, waterfall, whatever), you know that extended stretches of downhill are not good when your goal is to go uphill. Finally, though, we started to go uphill again. This is where things got bad.

The last part of Upper Yosemite Falls trail is steep, long, and has lots of slippery, unstable rocks. My psoas was spasming with nearly every step I took. It hurt so so badly.

…and this stretch of the trail was where I learned I was not in as good a shape as I thought I was and that my friend Kristi may truly be the most patient person on the planet. I googled it and found that there are more than 135 switchbacks to the top of the falls. I started off able to do 2-3 switchbacks before needing a break. It got to the point where I would need to rest once or twice EACH switchback. Kristi never got annoyed or impatient, and was incredibly encouraging. It was incredible. Although I seriously (and I mean it literally and not for dramatic effect) considered turning back twice, I didn't. And it was due in no small part to Kristi's encouragement. She is such a great friend and was so kind to be so helpful and patient.

This might give you an idea how steep and rocky the trail was. But probably not -- I think you have to see it to believe it.

Finally we made it to the top. And would you believe I did not get a single picture? I am virtually certain we had some taken, but I think the camera was switched to the wrong setting because I'll be darned if I didn't get to the bottom and learn that we had no pictures. So so sad.

But I will never forget it at the top. To actually get to the overlook you had to go over these extremely scary stairs (with no guard rail) cut out of the side of a rock face. Despite my exhaustion and fear of heights, I DID IT and Kristi and I enjoyed a beautiful dinner at the top around 5:30. We enjoyed it and I almost cried because I was so proud of myself. It was a full circle moment to have made it to the top of the falls; the fact that I used to not be able to climb a single flight of stairs without getting winded certainly wasn't lost on me.

Scary scary stairs to get to the overlook -- yes, you had to go downhill after climbing and climbing uphill. Crazy. But serious gratitude and props to those who made this trail and these stairs!!!

The way back down? I thought it would be a lot easier than it was. And I definitely thought it would be a lot faster than the way up. I will say this: it killed my knees and we didn't make it to the bottom until 9:30. Fortunately I had bought a headlamp and I had it with me because, even with the headlamp, it was one of the scariest things I'd done in my life. However, we made it unscathed and I was so so proud.

View from the top of the Falls. Yes, I stole this picture from someone online (as I did with the pictures of the trail and the stairs).

And more than being proud I was sore. My psoas was killing me (the uphills). My hamstrings killed me (the uphills). My quads killed me (the downhills). My knees killed me (the downhills). My back was killing me (the stress and exhaustion and the fact that I just have back problems). It. was. rough.

I thought I would be ravenous but honestly I just wanted to go to stretch and go to bed. I did have some pizza, but only two or three pieces -- my body just was not up for more, despite the fact that I'd done 9 hours of hiking. I thought I'd go to bed and sleep for 12 hours; however, I just slept for 7. I guess that's all my body wanted/needed. Strange.

I will say that this is the toughest thing I think I've ever done physically. I felt pushed to and past my limits. Though I wanted to die at times, I made it. And it was sooo worth it. I won't forget it. It makes me want to get in shape and be able to breeze up the falls next time -- and I will be SURE to get a picture before I leave :)

I did it

I used to not be able to walk up one flight of stairs without getting winded. Saturday, I walked up to the top of Yosemite Falls, which took 4 miles, 5 hours, 2 meltdowns, and 64 oz of water (and I wished I had had more). I was so exhausted and am still sore. But most of all? I'm proud. And humbled, because I am not in the shape I thought. But it was great. I will post more details and pictures later.

Challenge to Self

This weekend I am going to Yosemite National Park with a friend from graduate school. I am beyond delighted to see her, and to experience the beauty of one of our national parks. I can barely wait (though you wouldn't know because I haven't had much time to think about packing, getting ready, etc -- although I did order a fold up hiking stick).

My friend lives in California and has been to the park quite a bit. She knows the ins and outs -- she found us a tent cabin to stay in, knows which hikes are good, and so on. I am grateful to utilize her knowledge to help us plan our stay.

She suggested that we do the Upper Yosemite Falls hike. I am very excited about this, but also scared. The coin is always two-sided, right? It sure does seem that way.

Reasons for excitement: obvious. I'm in Yosemite, which is beautiful. I'm with my friend, who I love and don't get to see often. The views from the top of the trail are supposed to be particularly stunning -- as good as Half Dome, but easier to reach.

But I'm also nervous. The hike is 7.8 miles (which is in and of itself is a little challenging but not too bad), and the terrain is steep and rocky. My friend was a varsity collegiate track athlete for a Big 10 school. While I'm in reasonable shape, I am still overweight and carrying the extra pounds will be tough; my friend is literally half my size. I drink a lot and don't want to carry a bunch of heavy water up a mountain. I hate slipping and I have read that the gravel on the trail makes it kind of easy to fall. There's a reasonable chance of rain, making things slipperier and generally more unpleasant. So there are definitely plenty of things to be scared of or nervous about.

I expressed my concern to my friend -- mainly that I would be slower than she was, but that I was in good shape and thought I could make it if she was willing to be patient with me. I told her either way was fine. She responded

Let's give it a shot! We can take it nice and easy and if we don't make it all the way, it's okay. The important part is that we're together enjoying Yosemite this weekend!

First of all, what a great friend! Second of all, she's right.

After all, when will I be in Yosemite again? When will I get this chance to try this hike again? Life is moving on so let's just harness the proverbial bull by the horns and go for it! I will not let life pass me by just because I'm not at my ideal weight or afraid of heights. I will try this daunting task and probably make it to the top, even though it will be hard. If I don't give it a shot, I will regret it. And if I fail miserably? I won't wonder "what if"...and I'll probably have a good story to tell.

So here goes nothing -- Upper Yosemite Falls here I come! I can't wait to share with you how this goes!

It's been a year

It was around this time last year that I weighed in at 235. It was the lowest I'd been on the WL train thus far (this time around). This weight is also significant in that it was the weight I maintained the first time I lost weight -- more correctly, I stalled out around 229.5, gained a little over Christmas, and maintained at 235 for several months.

This week, I once again weighed in at 235. In this last year, I've been as low as 228.4, as high as 240.4 and have bounced in between these two weights in the 235+/-5 window. Perhaps a classic case of "the more things change, the more they stay the same." So how do I feel about that?

Actually, I don't really know, but I lean more towards feeling good about it than feeling bad. But let's start by getting the negatives out of the way.

I know that for a person who is my height (5'8"), that 235 is not a healthy weight. I know that I still struggle very heavily with compulsive overeating and that there is progress to be made on that front. I feel somewhat frustrated that I'm about 50 lbs heavier than the weight that I think is probably healthy for my body and that it's been an entire year since I've lost weight. That part is sad/frustrating/annoying.

Before I go on -- I must acknowledge that this is NOT a plateau. To me, a plateau is when you're doing everything right (at least to the best of your knowledge) -- exercising, following your food plan, etc -- and the scale isn't moving. The fact that I haven't lost weight is due to my decision to not follow the Weight Watchers program consistently, my not being as diligent about exercise as I have been in the past, and succumbing to the occasional binge. I KNOW what it takes to lose weight, and in the past year I've either done it inconsistently or sometimes not at all. And THAT'S why I haven't lost weight -- not because my body is confused or I'm starving myself or anything like that. I accept responsibility for my decisions, and am working to change the dysfunctional thought patterns that underly those decisions so that I can once again make progress.

However, like I said, the larger part of me is proud/happy/optimistic about what I've done with my weight the past year. I have dealt with depression and a lot of anxiety about my career and future. In the past, food would have been my primary source of comfort to deal with these issues; now I more often turn to friends and to God (although food is always there and still gets abused sometimes). I also have just in the past few months have made several realizations that are critical to my longterm succcess, thanks in large part to OA and a book I'm reading called Made to Crave. The biggest realization is that not only do I not have to do this alone, I really can't do this alone -- I must seek help from God if I am truly to recover from using food as a substitute for strength, love, comfort, and hope. And that fills me with unspeakable optimism.

On a pragmatic note, I must acknowledge that I have gone down a size in the past year despite my weight staying the same. I think this is because I work out and I've converted some fat to muscle. I must also admit that I think this is the first time I've ever maintained a weight for a year. While one might see that as a negative, as someone who has either lost or gained a significant (10+ lbs) of weight each and every year of her adult life, I see a year of maintenance as both extremely significant and extremely positive. A year of maintenance puts me one step closer to stopping the madness of gaining gaining gaining or losing a significant amount of weight each year, and so I am extremely proud of that.

I'll leave you with pictures of me from last year this time at 235 (black shirt) and this year (blue tanktop and bad posture). I see a little bit of a change on the side view and I think my face looks skinnier (more pronounced chin), but other than that they look kind of similar to me. I can, however, assure you that those pants fit much better now which means that even though I may not see it, I know progress is being made.

And yes, that's a calendar year of concerted effort to grow my hair. Curly. hair. grows. so. slowly!!!

The newly found importance of OA in my life

One of the things that got crowded out when life got busy was Overeaters Anonymous, OA, where I'd been going for about a month prior to getting so crazy-busy.

I stopped going to OA for a few weeks, not because I don't like or believe in the program but because I chose to do other things on my Saturday morning -- hang out with friends doing scheduled stuff, Zumba, relax. All of these things are perfectly justifiable, especially as self-care when life is pressing on me from all directions and I need to be particularly careful about my mental health. I do not feel badly about doing any of them.

However, as a result of my absence from the OA program I've realized that -- for me -- OA is going to be something that at the very least will be an ongoing part of my life for the next season. Maybe forever. It is a huge piece in helping me stay sane as far as food is concerned.

I feel like people at OA get me. I love that OA reminds me that I'm not alone in my stuggles with food -- there are not only other people, but most importantly God will and wants to help me with my food. This past weekend, I went to several OA phone meetings (they're free!) and I felt supported and validated and, best of all, that I let go of the compulsions about food. It was fantastic, and I had a great day of eating and activity.

Giving my food and my will about food is something that I'm realizing I must do everyday. It is not a switch that gets flipped; rather it's something like exercise that you must do regularly to derive all the benefits. I am learning this, and learning that I cannot be trusted with food in my own strength is something that is simultaneously very very difficult and humbling to do, yet oddly liberating at the same time.

Stress!!!!

The end of the semester is usually grueling, but for some reason it seems even more so this semester. I am buried in a stack of grading and just as I make progress on it, it seems that more gets dumped on me. I'm so stressed out.

I've visited the ol' friend of compulsive overeating to help me get through. The busy-ness has also crowded out most of the exercise I'd usually do. After gaining about 10 lbs in about 4 weeks, I feel gross. I feel lethargic and I am starting to feel softer in places that shouldn't be soft, and am losing muscle definition. By all accounts, these things are undesirable.

But do you know what? I realized I am oddly grateful for this. As a result of this, I got to feel how my body shuts down when it's not properly fed or nourished. It's not pretty, and I feel disgusting. It was a great reminder as to why I'm getting healthy. Also, it really reinforced the idea that I am a food addict. Though I am not proud of the title, I think I need reminders sometimes when I feel like "man, I've got this" -- you know, the whole "pride comes before a fall" thing. I have ruined my brain chemistry and neural pathways pathways to not treat food normally (or it genetic, I don't know -- but either way, the result is the same).

Starting yesterday, I said "This is enough." Yesterday and today I have eaten food that honors and nourishes my body; I went for a bike ride yesterday and went to Zumba today. I have worked a whole lot, but I am cutting out TV and excessive internet usage as a way to relax, and instead spending that time on working out. I feel a lot better, even with just 2 days of healthiness under my belt.

I've said it before, and I've said it again: I am a tough broad and I will not give up. This healthiness thing is the way God intended for us to live, and I am going to need to trust Him to help me restore my body to the way he intended for it to work. That starts with giving the body what it needs and deserves both in the form of food and exercise.

My OA experience and Food and God

I was skeptical about OA prior to going. So skeptical, in fact, that I avoided for a good, long 1.5 years. It's become obvious to me that there are certain bumps in the road -- some I see but cannot avoid -- that have impeded my progress on this journey. I was stuck at 235+/-5 since last May. In that time I've battled depression and been stuck inside for snowstorms and imbibed at Christmas and done all kinds of stuff that impeded my progress -- but I have not made it onward and upward with respect to the weight loss in almost a year.

During the past year it became clear to me that while making healthy choices has become easier, there are sometimes that I still struggle mightily and that I am still addicted to food and probably always will be. There was something mental going on with me -- it wasn't that I had plateau-ed and that my body/metabolism was fighting the weight loss; I was sabotaging my efforts to lose weight and to get healthy. The most frustrating(/sad/infuriating) part is that I could not completely figure out why, leaving me flummoxed.

I completely bought into the addict aspect of the OA program. Although my binges had become increasingly infrequent, they still happened on occasion. Although I have a healthier relationship with food, it was by no means a normal or functional one -- I still obsessed over food way too much. However, I refused to believe that I was "powerless" over food. Was I not maintaining the weight? I was. Had I not lost 60-70 lbs? I had. I was not powerless; I felt I COULD win over food.

That's not to say I'm not proud of maintaining; I am. It's also not to say I'm not stronger/smaller/more toned; I am. But, I have not been losing any significant weight and that is frustrating but a natural consequence of the actions I've made with respect to the food I've used to fuel my body.

I finally reached the end of the rope and, in response to HW given to me by my therapist, went to OA. The folks at OA helped me to reframe the "powerless over food" phrase into something that I can not only tolerate but into something that I love and has revolutionized my healthiness journey. Being powerless over food doesn't mean that food wins, it means that I'm not in control over food but that I can rely on a higher power (I believe in God, so I'll use the term God from now on) to help me with food and to be my strength when I am weak. This is not at all the same as my original interpretation of the meaning of being "powerless over food"; it is actually a great thing to be able to rely on someone more powerful than you to help you with something you struggle so much with, not a bad thing or conceding defeat to food.

It is funny, I always thought asking God to help me with food was too small -- something He could not possibly care about. I felt embarrassed and ashamed to ask for His help with making smart decisions. Finally, I decided "What do I have to lose? I'll give this a try". The first day I basically prayed and said, "God, I am giving my food to you today. Please help me to make wise choices." I felt silly and honestly a little ashamed, but I did it.

That day was so easy. I felt a peace about food I have not felt in a long time -- no obsessing between meals, no feeling chained to my phone to track everything on my WW app ASAP. I also didn't go to the other extreme of not wanting to track anything due either to malaise or guilt because of "bad" food I was eating, no wanting to eat more of something when I was full. I would imagine that is what it is like to have a "normal" attitude toward food. I have always wondered but never really experienced that (in case you haven't noticed, moderation really isn't my strong suit).

Now each morning I give my food to God as part of my daily morning ritual. I spend some time praying and focusing specifically on the food. I just don't obsess about food every moment of the day anymore (we're going on 3 weeks here...). It is so great. And, although it is not the point of OA, feeling at peace with my food has helped me to stay on WW and I've lost about 8 lbs since I started. I was out of town for 4 days at the beginning of the week -- I ate out the whole week basically -- and I still lost 1.5 lbs. Insane, and uncharted territory for me.

If I have learned nothing else from OA, it is that I can turn my food over to God and He will help me with it. I also realized that while I consider food something "small" or insignificant, it's really not to me -- to me it is paramount and has caused me all sorts of trouble and for that reason if no other, I can and should turn it over to God. Clearly He can help me with my food better than I can in my own strength.

Picture and the Big Picture

I've been on this journey approaching 2 years now. Sometimes I forget the big picture. I know I'm worlds healthier than when I started. I know that I am both smaller and more in shape...but sometimes I forget how far I've come.

When I think about it hard, I remember some things -- that I used to get winded walking up the hill in front of the building where I work, that I could barely fit in airplane seats and seats at the old movie theatre, that I'd be out of breath walking up a flight of stairs -- but honestly, I think I've blocked a lot of it out. I also think that part of this is due to the HEAVY denial that I was in for such a long time. Even when I weighed 300 lbs, I think that I thought I looked good and was not that fat. I was lying to myself only.

Anyway, I forget how far I've come sometimes. Then someone sends me a picture like this...one that I don't even think I realized anyone was taking...

...and I remember. Wow, I don't want to go back.

The last few weeks...

I got an e-mail from a friend a couple days ago telling me I had been quiet (as in, not updating my blog) and asking me how things were going.

I am so so glad to say things are going well. There are several things that I am sure are playing into this. I'd say this boils down to four main reasons why things are going so well.

1. The OA program has really helped me. I will write more about this in a future post but for now I will say that if you suffer from compulsive eating, I'd absolutely recommend giving OA a try. For me it has worked wonders. I am excited to share more about this.
2. The doctor has upped the dosage of meds. While I'm not excited about this, per se, I am glad that I seem to be feeling better and that this upped dosage seems to be working in concert with the other changes I'm making and actions I am taking to change my life.
3. I have started therapy again. One of the therapist's suggestions was that I really regiment my time via a strict schedule. While I initially hated/resisted this idea, it has revolutionized the way that I keep track of time and has been wonderful for my productivity. And, being productive helps me to feel good about myself.
4. I rely on my real life friends when things are tough. I actually have a social life and I actually have people who understand me and disordered eating who live in the area. I am so grateful to be able to call on them when I need to, in stark contrast to my first several years here. I'm. so. very. grateful.

In the last few weeks I've lost 6 pounds. While I am of course happy to have the scale headed in a direction I like again, there are other things that I'm even happier about. I'm happy that I've really committed whole heartedly to WW -- not because WW is in and of itself amazing, but because more importantly I've wholly recommitted myself to being accountable for my actions in the form of tracking my food. I am thrilled I have obsessive thoughts about food FAR less than I have in a long time. And, best of all, I am feeling happy and content not just about food but about life and the direction I'm headed. Fantastic, and a great change.