Return to Above

Photo by mag3737 via flickr

Photo by mag3737 via flickr

Since I started physical therapy in August, my weight has been slowly climbing back up. Sometimes not so slowly (Christmas, anyone?). The 20 pounds I lost last spring/summer are suddenly only 10, are somehow suddenly only 7.

How does that happen so quickly?

I question the formula. 3500 calories in is far more than 3500 calories out, like you have to burn at least 7000 extra to lose a single pound, but you only have to eat about 1500 extra to gain one. How is that fair?

I know it has nothing to do with fair, and it has nothing to do with warped dimensions or time travel or anything unexplainable. It has to do with a lack of attention, with, “I didn’t really eat that many calories, did I?” and “What happened to all the crab dip?” and “Oh, damn, the cookies are all gone!”

There’s an odd dichotomy to starting again; it is both the easiest and the hardest part. You’re all gung-ho and ready to be different, but those old habits are so very present, just waiting to catch you, waiting to trip you. How do you keep your eyes on the goal when you have to watch every step you take for fear of falling, hard?

In other words, this is me trying again.

May 2011 be the last time I ever see 260+ on the scale, and may today be the last day I ever see 254+.

It may be January 08, but today is Day 1.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Doctor, Doctor

I went to the doctor this morning, like the good little girl that I am. Can I just say that I really love the doctors at the office I go to? I didn’t see my regular doctor this morning, because I couldn’t get in to see her for almost two weeks, but this new doctor was just as helpful. She actually listened to what I was saying, including my crazy rants about how I’m not a hypochondriac (I swear!) but I really feel like there’s something wrong. She answered my questions and even took time to explain what her answers meant. So, yay team!

The diagnosis:

a) My ongoing/recurring cold may be due to allergies. She suggested I try an OTC antihistamine to see if that makes any difference. If it helps, awesome! If it doesn’t help, we’ll do an allergy test and some other tests to figure out WTF is going on.

b) My ankle/foot/knee/hip/back problems are likely all related (um, duh!), and me trying to tough it and just wait for things to heal on their own is probably making it harder than it has to be. Without proper rehabilitation, ankle sprains–not even considering any of the other pain related to it–can take up to a YEAR to heal. Ouch! So, she gave me some therapy activities to do at home, and if I’m not seeing improvement in a couple of weeks, she’ll refer me to physical therapy again. That’s totally not what I want, but I suppose a few more weeks of PT is better than a year of hobbling around in pain.

b.1) She recommended that I only walk on a flat, stable surface (i.e. a track or a flat road, not even a treadmill) and no running whatsoever until I’ve rebuilt my proprioception. I can use a stationary bike or maybe an elliptical–basically machines where I don’t have to worry about planting my foot and that don’t actively hurt my ankle and/or knees.

c) I’m going back next week for an ultrasound. No, I’m not pregnant (at least not that I’m aware of), but I’ve got some female issues going on, and a rather rocky family history to go with it, so she agreed with me that it was better to be on the safe side and have things checked out. Maybe it’s nothing, but if it’s something, we’ll be able to get it taken care of.

What does all of this mean? Well, it means she doesn’t know what is going on with me either, but she’s trying to help me figure it out, which is pretty much all I could really hope. She said that she doesn’t automatically see a connection between all of these things, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one, and often just being down in one area can make it easier to get down in another area, even if it’s not direct causation.

So I’m going to experiment, and we’re going to test, and they’re going to snap some pics of my insides, and we’ll see.

The not being able to walk/run thing really sucks though, because it’s fricking winter and I’m not about to go outside in 17F, and besides that, I live in WV where there is no such thing as a flat surface. I WANT TO RUN! I miss running so much that it literally makes me cry every time I think about it.

I have to keep reminding myself that the only way out is through, that I have to do the work and take the time to heal if I ever want to be able to move forward. What I’ve been doing obviously isn’t working, so I need to try a different course.

But it’s frustrating. I’ve been in tears half of the day because I’m so frustrated. Although I know I got the best response I could have, given the situation, I was really hoping there was some kind of easy answer, some “Oh yeah, I know what’s going on! Take this and everything will be fine,” and it just wasn’t there. There isn’t an easy solution to be had here, and the only thing I can see in front of me is more frustration.

I have to keep moving forward, keep working, keep trying to find a solution, a way through.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | 3 Comments

Pain and Paranoia

January 2nd and already I’m missing out on my goals. Specifically, my goal of walking (on the treadmill for now) for at least 20 minutes every day.

This afternoon, something painful happened to my ankle–the same ankle I sprained a few weeks ago and which is still recovering, but this is a new pain. It hurts so bad I almost cry every time I take a step. I didn’t even do anything. one minute it was post-sprain fine (meaning it hurts when I twist it, but is generally okay), and then the next minute, OW.

At this point, all I can think is, “WTF, body?”

I was thinking that if this pain is still here tomorrow, I’m calling the doctor, but now I think I might set up an appointment even if the pain is gone. This just seems like too much happening in a short amount of time.

Up to this point in my life, whenever I got sick or injured, I would simply wait it out, a temporary thing. My body would heal and I’d go about my business.

But now … I’m not healing. New stuff keeps happening, and the old stuff isn’t getting any better.

Yet I feel silly, like none of these little things are really a cause for concern. Like my husband and mother say, it’s part of aging. But I can’t accept that. I feel like something might actually wrong with me, something that’s not just going to go away and heal on its own. Like I need help.

And if my general practitioner tells me that it’s just a sprain, it’s just my overweight putting too much stress on my body for too long, it’s just my body getting older, it’s just … whatever else, I’m going to keep investigating.

There’s something wrong. I can feel it. This isn’t right.

Am I paranoid?

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | 4 Comments

New Year, New … Me?

Photo by verpletterend via flickr

Photo by verpletterend via flickr

I have been sick and/or injured since August. Me, the one who never gets sick or injured. I’m on my third cold in three months, and I historically haven’t had more than one cold a year, if that. I injured my back, my ankle, and now my knee. My ankle isn’t even better yet, and the combination of ankle and knee injuries is making my back worse again.

There are a few other physical things I’ve got going on that don’t bear mentioning here, and it all adds up to making me think there might actually be something wrong with me. I told Husband I was falling apart, and his reply was, “Welcome to your 30s.” I don’t think that’s it.

Every single time something happens, every time I have a twinge of joint pain, every time I blow my nose, there is a voice that asks, “What’s really going on here? What is my body trying to tell me? What am I not getting?”

The answer, obviously, always, is this: I need to take care of myself. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, financially, mentally, vocationally, however it is possible to take care of myself. I need to pay attention, I need to listen, and I need to respect.

Husband got me a Kindle Fire for Christmas, along with a gift card so I could fill it up with books. One of the first books I bought was Brooke Castillo’s If I’m So Smart, Why Can’t I Lose Weight?: Tools to Get it Done (aff), and I’ve been reading through it over the past few days. Just now I was reading as I walked on the treadmill, and she talked about how, in the beginning, your body might need to “vent” about how poorly it’s been treated.

And I wonder, is this my body venting? Is this what I get for mistreating it for years and years, decades, and it always coming through for me anyway? Now that I’m asking more, giving more, it feels somehow entitled to retaliation? I can’t say that I blame it. For all the crap I’ve done to my body, for all that I’ve put it through, I certainly deserve a bit of payback.

Or is this a test, to prove–to myself, I suppose–how much I want this, to see if I will persevere in the face of adversity? Adversity and me, we are old friends (it comes hand-in-hand with life, after all), but it is used to seeing me turn and walk away. Do I want my health bad enough to finally stand up to a challenge, to not back down? Do I respect myself enough to face my fears, unknown or blatant, and climb over this obstacle? Do I have what it takes to earn that self-esteem? Can I stand my ground and come out victorious?

There is the obvious answer: eat better, get more sleep, rest and exercise as appropriate. Yes, I know I need to do all of those things, but somehow this feels deeper, like those superficial fixes aren’t enough.

There are so many things I want to do, so many goals I have in my head, for so many aspects of my life. I’ve always loved New Years for that reason; it’s a fresh start, a chance to start something new, to be someone new. It’s a reminder that what’s done is done, and that we can make the choice, right now, to be different, to be better.

But that it true at every moment. We can always choose to be different going forward than we were in the past. We just have to listen, and make the choice.

My choice is to not wait for tomorrow. My choice was to get on the treadmill and do what I could do. I might not be able to run a 5k just yet–I’m not even walking very fast at the moment, with the sore ankle and knee–but at least I did it.

Tomorrow, I will choose to do it again.

Happy 2012.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Inertia

Photo by jbrownell via Flickr

Photo by jbrownell via Flickr

Noun: inertia

  1. A disposition to remain inactive or inert
  2. (physics) the tendency of a body to maintain its state of rest or uniform motion unless acted upon by an external force

With health, as with all things, the hardest part is getting started. Once I get going in the right direction, it gets easier to keep going. Of course, that also means that once I stop moving, it’s difficult to start moving again.

That is where I am now, not moving.

I did so very well last week, and then on Friday I crashed a bit. Now it’s Tuesday, and I’ve rolled to a complete stop.

I could blame the holidays and the inordinate amount of treats there are in my kitchen (which, um, I seem to have made … as Christmas presents [yeah, that's it, presents]).

I could blame my sprained ankle for keeping me out of the gym (it does legitimately hurt–it hurt so bad yesterday I almost fell over as soon as I stood up).

I could blame, oh, I don’t know, pretty much anything. My family. My lack of money. The stupid gym for being all the way across town. Work for being busy. Why not the laws of physics?

In reality, there is only me and my decisions. I have a frig full of healthy foods, including lots of fruits and veggies (okay, only half of the food in my frig is healthy–the other half is cheese and chocolate). The only thing holding me back is my brain.

But it is also my brain that allows me to choose, to make healthy decisions, to get the ball rolling again.

Yes, this time of year is notoriously difficult for healthy living, and I am no exception to the rule. But that does not mean that I have to give in, or that I shouldn’t do what I can, even if I feel it’s not enough.

The direction of my life, and how well I do on any given day, is up to me. I choose to get the ball rolling again.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | 1 Comment

ReMix: Your Beliefs Are the Problem

Every Sunday morning I post one of my older posts, mostly for myself. Seeing as how I’m still doing the same mental work, a lot of them are just as relevant today as they were when I wrote them. This is not to excuse myself from writing a post for the day, but simply a chance to review the lessons I have learned, and perhaps still need to work on. Perhaps you will find something here as well. 

 

Photo by Tattood JJ via flickr

I love to read self-help books. They’ve been an obsession of mine since I was a teenager. This particular book,  (aff) by Martha Beck, I picked up hoping for help in the vocational arena, and even though I haven’t yet found my perfect career, the book has helped me a bit with my diet.

In the book, Beck talks about the countermands that block us from meeting our goals. A countermand is, very simply, any time we say, “Yeah, but …”

Boy, I do a lot of that.

Another way to phrase is is, “I could be/do/have X, but Y,” such as, “I could lose weight, but I can’t stick to a diet.”

Beck describes a “reality check” process you go through to battle and break down the countermands. I won’t go through the whole thing, but there was one piece that really struck me. Basically, she says that the problem (Y) isn’t really the problem–your beliefs are the problem.

I’m very mind-over-matter, so that makes a lot of sense to me. Beck goes on to ask what you would do if the problem wasn’t a problem. You challenge your beliefs.

Going back to my, ahem, example, the problem is, “I can’t stick to a diet.” Well, what if it wasn’t a problem? What if I was very, very good at sticking to diets? What if it was easy for me to stick to a diet?

Furthermore, what if the diet isn’t the problem at all? What if sticking to a diet doesn’t even matter?

The problem is that I believe that I cannot stick to a diet. In essence, since I don’t believe I can do it, I don’t let myself do it, thereby proving myself right.

But what happens when I believe I can? What would I do differently? Would I embark on a very strict eating regimen? Would I stop worrying about my diet altogether? Would I lose weight quickly and easily, once and for all?

That line of questioning, those challenges to my beliefs, actually helped me stick to my diet–very easily, I might add–for the past few days.

What other countermands do you give yourself? What would happen if you turned them all on their heads? Here are some of the ones that go through my head, and I’m guessing they’re fairly common among those of us who want to lose weight:

I would lose weight, but it’s hard.

I would be fit and trim, but I’ll always have saggy skin.

I would exercise, but it’s no fun/it’s hard.

I would exercise, but I don’t like to sweat.

I would eat healthy, but it doesn’t taste good.

B.S. All of it.

Losing weight is not hard. Calories in versus calories out, that’s easy. It’s my beliefs that make it hard.

Better to be fit and trim with saggy skin than unhealthy and overweight with rolls of fat.

Exercise is fun. I enjoy going to the gym, and running, and lifting weights, and yoga, and all sorts of physical activities.

I like to sweat, because I know that is calories I’m burning, and it feels good to work and cleanse my body.

Plenty of healthy foods taste good, and I love to experiment with new recipes.

Those are my challenging responses to my countermands. Yours may be different. The content isn’t the point, the questioning is.

Question all of your countermands, each of your excuses, and figure out how they’re wrong (because they are). Don’t believe a word.

Teach yourself to believe in something else, something healthy–YOU.

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Writing My Own Story

Photo by jjpacres via flickr

Photo by jjpacres via flickr

We all have stories in our heads, stories that we tell ourselves about who we are, about our place in the world, even about other people. These stories are influenced by our experiences, thoughts, and feelings.

The thing about the human brain is, it doesn’t like to not know things. Often, rather than admit it doesn’t know something, it will make up a story to fit the situation. The result is that we assume we know the fact about something because we are literally not conscious of the fact that we don’t know. (Before you go thinking I’m all sciencey and know stuff about stuff, I’m reviewing a book about the brain, ok? It’s pretty interesting.)

But we tell ourselves these stories, whether it’s that we’re good at spelling, or a bad parent, or a lazy fatass slob who will never amount to anything, and those stories color our interaction with the world, with every single aspect of the world. Those stories in our heads   influence how we think and feel about every single thing that ever happens to us. They prompt us to do things we wouldn’t do without the story, or keep us from doing things we would. They raise our hackles when no offense was meant. They keep us repeating the same patterns over and over and over, because patterns are what is easy, patterns are what is comfortable.

A simple example? When I was younger, my mom always told me that I had a terrible singing voice (actually, she still tells me that). As a result, I rarely let anyone hear me sing, regardless of how much I enjoy singing. I never tried out for show choir, even though I would have absolutely loved it (I ended up working backstage). I don’t even sing in the car if anyone else is with me.

There have been a few times in my life, though, that other people have heard me sing–road trips with friends, generally speaking–and I always warn them what a terrible singing voice I have. Every single one of them has told me it’s actually not that bad, and that I basically need to get over myself.

Another story that I have playing in my head, one that has a far greater impact on my life, is that everyone is out to get me. Not in a huge conspiracy, paranoia kind of way (because I actually don’t believe that people are out to get me), just that no one is on my side. If someone suggests I do something a different way, they’re not trying to help: they don’t trust my judgment or ability. If someone asks me what I had for breakfast, it’s not because they’re hungry or trying to think of new things to eat for breakfast; they’re accusing me of being fat and eating too much.

The stories we use to interpret our lives may or may not even be true. Perhaps the person suggesting how to do something has done it in the past and is suggesting what they’ve found to be the most efficient method. Perhaps the person who asks what I had for breakfast thought my breakfast smelled really tasty, or knows that I am health-conscious and is looking for healthy things to eat.

What would happen if we could re-write those stories? Once we recognize we have that filter, we can then, theoretically, call it into question to see, 1) if it’s even true, and 2) if it is helpful. Where is the evidence of this being true in my life? Do I have any evidence that suggests this is false?

More importantly, we can ask which story we would rather believe. Do I want to go through life believing that I’m a horrible singer? Frankly, I don’t know that that one really matters so much, but do I want to go through life thinking that everyone is out to get me, that no one is on my side, and that every person I meet is just trying to knock me down? What good could possibly come from that belief?

Stories are there to protect us, to guide us. Believing that I can’t sing a note keeps me from embarrassing myself in public. Believing that everyone wants the worst for me keeps me from feeling the sting of rejection. (That’s the theory, anyway.)

But those stories were made up years ago, when I literally didn’t know. Now that I do know, shouldn’t I be able to write my own story, one that benefits me, one that defines the person I want to be?

It’s time for me to start believing that maybe some people are on my side. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time for me to sing.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

Seven Things

Right now, I’m at about +8billion on my Google Reader, so it’s no surprise I haven’t seen this before now (and hence have not posted it before now):

The amazing Hanlie gave me a blog award! Woo! I’ve never gotten a blog award before! I feel so special. Thanks, Hanlie!

So, let’s see, seven things you don’t know about  me.

1. I am a cat person through and through. In my lifetime I’ve had dogs, cats, a pony, rabbits, pigs, goats, lizards, chickens (man, I freaking hate chickens), ducks, geese, and fish. My pick? Cats. 100% cats. Just as long as they’re not sleeping on my pillow.

2. As a correlation to #1, I was in the hospital for almost 2 weeks during second grade with a staph infection in my eye, which the doctor said was probably caused by me petting the filthy, germy cat and then rubbing my eye. My eye swelled up like a golf ball; it was literally so puffy you could not see my eyelashes. To this day, I generally wash my hands after I pet a cat, especially if I’m going to sleep. And if the cat has been sleeping on my pillow, I will change the pillowcase.

3. I’m not religious at all, and if I was, I probably wouldn’t be Christian, but BOY do I love me some Christmas carols. They’re so happy and “everybody love everybody!” My absolute favorite album ever is John Denver & The Muppets’ A Christmas Together. I could listen to it every single day of my life.

4. As a teenager, I did not, as a rule, eat foods that were sticky, which mostly meant jams and jellies and syrup. I ate pancakes and waffles and such with butter, and that’s it. It’s probably only in the past five to eight years that I have began eating sticky foods again.

5. I love animated Disney movies. I love cartoons in general, but Disney movies especially. You can catch me quoting them at random. Next to Disney movies, my favorite cartoon is Animaniacs (aff), which I also quote regularly.

6. I wrote horoscopes for my college newspaper. I generally just made stuff up, but people would tell me on a regular basis how accurate I was. I took it as a compliment on my ability to be complete vague.

7. The vast majority of my friends live in my computer. I’m not particularly social, and people often mistake me for being shy. I’m not shy, I just don’t have much to say to most people. My best friends are scattered across the country, and some of them I’ve never even met (though a good many of them I have).

I’m not nominating anybody, mainly because I’m so far behind this may have made the rounds already and I just don’t know it. If you would like to post random facts about yourself, consider yourself nominated by me!

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | 1 Comment

My Thunder Thighs vs. the Giant Donut

Photo by uberculture via flickr

Photo by uberculture via flickr

I told you the other day that I’ve teamed up with Brad Gansberg for some accountability. We’ve been emailing back and forth, and I do believe it is helping me to have someone to report to. One of the emails we’ve exchanged had “Giant Donut” as the subject.

I sent him my report for the day, which included a lot of healthy foods, a few unhealthy foods, and a good workout at the gym. I don’t feel particularly good about today though, and here’s why: I felt like I was eating all day, and I don’t know if it was for hunger or for some other reason.

I thought I had gotten a handle on this, on being able to tell when I am truly physically hungry and when it’s just my brain telling me I should eat, but apparently I haven’t. Not even close.

Sometimes I feel like I’m eating to fill a void, like I am the missing hole in the center of the donut. What is supposed to be in the void (because I guaran-damn-tee you it’s not food)?

My guess is self-love.

Allow me to get nostalgic and cheesy for a moment or two …

In 2004, I managed to lose about 40 pounds. One of the tools I used at that time was hypnosis, specifically Lia Salciccia’s Weight Loss and Beautiful Body series (which, sadly, I only have on cassette and can therefore no longer listen to–I do intend to buy a digital version whenever I have disposable income again). The first one in the series, Weight Loss and Ideal Body, is frankly the best hypnosis I have ever been through (yes, I’ve used more than one, and this one is by far my favorite). It talks a lot about self-love, and how we see ourselves, and how we want to see ourselves. I don’t know that I can really explain it.

At one point, you are asked to see (feel? I don’t remember) a ball of light inside you. I pictured a golf-ball sized orb somewhere near my solar plexus. Then you tap into that ball, and I saw mine crack and shatter, and pieces chipped away, and light came pouring out. The light that burst through that shell was self love, and I remember the light filling me, that feeling of complete and utter love, complete and utter acceptance, complete and utter peace. I remember crying then, because it was so beautiful, and so fleeting.

That is my dream. To live there, in that space, in that light. Not hypnotized, but awakened to the self-love that lives within me. I know it’s there. I just have to tap into it and let it fill me.

That’s what’s missing.

So where am I now? I honestly do feel that I’m making progress. It’s slow, but at least it’s progress. I don’t know if I’ll ever get back to that space, but that is where I’m aiming. Complete and utter love.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

ReMix: Believing In You

Every Sunday morning I post one of my older posts, mostly for myself. Seeing as how I’m still doing the same mental work, a lot of them are just as relevant today as they were when I wrote them. This is not to excuse myself from writing a post for the day, but simply a chance to review the lessons I have learned, and perhaps still need to work on. Perhaps you will find something here as well. 

Why is it that we don’t believe in ourselves? Why do we constantly sell ourselves short?

I know I do this. I have gone to therapy for this. But it’s not just me. As I was reading–blogs  and Twitter, that is–I noticed how many other people don’t believe in themselves either. I wonder, is that “normal,” or is it just because of the subject area (weight loss) I’m reading? If it is normal, that is a sad state of affairs.

Please let me state up front that I am not excluding myself from this in any way. It has always been my curse to see and understand the logic of how things work, even the psychology behind them, while still succumbing to emotion. I know full well that we should believe in ourselves, and even how we could theoretically go about doing it. Actually doing it is another thing altogether.

That said, I wonder why it is we don’t believe in ourselves. Are we the product of multiple childhood or lifetime failures? It is easy to say, “I won’t be able to lose weight now because I haven’t done it in the past,” and that is a deep hole to fall into. But of course you haven’t done it in the past, or you wouldn’t need to do it now.  Even if you say, “I lost weight in the past, but I gained it all back, so why should this time be different?” it’s the same thing. There was something in your past that made that attempt less than successful. There was some area, some challenge, you still needed to learn how to face, and perhaps you still need to face, and until you do, you are not going to be permanently successful.

But is that a reason to not believe in yourself, to not believe that you are capable?

This journey–and everything else we undertake–is a learning experience. We don’t know how to walk when we are born, but we keep getting up and trying again, and we learn a little with each attempt, we get a little better. If we don’t learn anything, about ourselves, about the process, then we are doomed to make the same mistakes and end up right back where we started.

But we know we have the capacity to learn, because we have. We have learned to walk and read and drive a car and all those other things we have learned in our lives. Losing weight and what works for us is just one more thing we have to learn. Practice makes perfect, so keep practicing. We have to keep taking those wobbly steps until we get it right and can stand on our own two feet.

Just because we couldn’t walk on day 1, attempt 1, doesn’t mean we never would. The only thing that can stop us from learning how to succeed is to stop trying altogether. As long as we keep trying, surely we will learn eventually. So if you can’t find it in you to believe in yourself, believe in the capacity of the human mind–and body–to learn.

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment