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It’s doppelganger week on facebook and I’ve been reminded of my total lack of visual recall.  Basically, I don’t accurately remember what anything or anyone looks like.  Instead, I remember vaguely and the result is that every time I say, “Doesn’t he look like so-and-so?!”, the answer is, “No, not at all.”

That applies to myself.  Beyond dark brown hair and greenish eyes, I’m not so good at describing myself.

I’m not sure that this face recognition software is any better than my warped memory.  It’s first choice was Jared Padalecki!  Young, sort of pretty in that mannish way – oh dear, this isn’t doing much for my self-image, though I suppose he could be my son. 

I tried three different photos and the only celebs to come up on all three were Lucy Lawless (me, Xena?  I don’t think so)

and the inevitable Liza Minelli.  

On reflection, the program picked up on my small features, jawline, eyes that squint when I smile and the bangs/fringe (depending on your nationality).

Who I really wanted to show up was Isabella Rossellini.  In middle age, of course.  I guess she doesn’t look like me at all – see – told you I didn’t know what I looked like except in a vague way.  She does have dark hair.

And how does this relate to body sanity?

Well, I’m sitting here weighing 23 pounds less than I did two years ago but I don’t see it.  I want to see it. I turn 49 in less than three months and by the time I’m 50 I want to know what I look like.  I want to see the difference between me at 170 and me at 140 – not just in photos but in the mirror – clothed, naked, face, body – every which way.

I can’t fix the visual memory problem – that’s part of me.  But I do want to sort out the body image thing.

Edit!

I found a photo from two Christmases ago and stitched it together with one from this Christmas.

OK – I see the difference. How come I don’t see it in the mirror?  And how come I don’t see the changes as I gain weight?

I truly hope to one day have the answers to those questions.

 
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I’ve discovered the benefit of keeping online documents: it’s easy to see what you’ve done right and wrong over a period of time.

The week that I had the most encouraging weight loss:

  • I ate porridge with blueberries and yoghurt for breakfast every day.
  • I ate filling cauliflower and potato soup for lunch every day.
  • I ate lots of different dinners but all with a bit of protein and carb and a lot of vegetables.
  • I drank only one glass of wine all week.  I think there might be something in that.
  • I drank a bottle of mineral water while watching tv at night.
  • I snacked on Ryvita and cream cheese and fruit.
  • I had my usual 5-6 cups of tea and coffee – with and without caffeine.
  • I stuck to cappuccinos when I was out and counted for a full fat one rather than resent a skinny one.

The surprising thing is that I didn’t get to the gym that week – which worries me a little because I don’t want to lose muscle rather than fat.  However, I did walk on four days.  Still – I’d rather have a lower weight loss and a better shape.

Besides daily wine, what else wasn’t on the menu?

  • butter – but I had olive oil every day.
  • sugar in any vast quantity
  • cheese – though I did have super parmesan reggiano  on a couple of meals.  I don’t count light Philly as “cheese”.  It’s something else altogether – a non-offensive dry cracker prevention system maybe.
  • crackers other than Ryvita.  To quote Donna, “I can one and two point myself to death with crackers.”

OK, I’m sitting here thinking, do I want to lose weight more than I want to drink wine?  It’s a serious question.  For the next week I’m going to say Yes.

Do I want to exercise more than I want to hibernate?  The honest answer is No – but- I want to lose weight more than I want to hibernate so I’ll go.

Do I want to be free from journalling and measuring more than I want to lose weight?  Hmmmm – Yes – but for the next week I’ll sacrifice the freedom to grab to food and eat it for the freedom to zip up my jeans.

It’s all about choosing between freedoms.

I just read over the menu again and I’m happy to say that it’s all food that I’d eat even if I weren’t trying to lose weight.  It’s all tasty and filling and colourful.  So my challenge isn’t so much what but how much.

 
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I’ve been thinking about this for days but Gracie’s post from yesterday has helped me get it into words.

In order to get weight off and keep it off, I need an element of enthusiasm for some aspect of the process but, over 30 years of dieting, something has happened to mine.

Basically I see enthusiasm as running along a continuum from Crippling Ennui to Dangerous Euphoria.

I’ll start with Euphoria – the degree of enthusiasm I fear the most.

It’s the dark side of enthusiasm which involves an addictive personality.  It causes things in life to become the sole focus – taking up way more energy and time than they should. It can be work or love or dieting or exercise.  In my experience it always leads to great failure and deep despair.

I sometimes crave the buzz and wish I could do a happy dance when I lose weight but I simply won’t let myself.  I refuse to be motivated by the feelings that losing weight and exercising give me.  When that’s my motivation, I end up cranky when life gets in the way of a diet plan or a run.  And it doesn’t take long for me to realise that I can’t sustain the degree of commitment required to get the same hit of euphoria.  The quest for euphoria is too exhausting and too short-term.

Euphoria is the unhealthy by-product of plain old Enthusiasm.  I like enthusiasm when it’s attached to action – but it’s rare to find enthusiasm that isn’t all talk.

Hmmmm – even as I write this I find that my cynical self is saying, “No you don’t. You hate enthusiasm in all its guises.” OK, it’s true, I hate enthusiasm – but I do know that this a weakness on my part.  I’m sometimes jealous of enthusiastic people – I covet their energy but my inner dialogue usually involves mutterances of the “just you wait” variety.

It’s this lack of love for enthusiasm that makes WW meetings hard to bear.  I really don’t want to clap for the obese woman who lost 8 pounds in her first week.  I’m not being petty and jealous; I just don’t want her to get her hopes up.

Hmmm again-  I understand that, no matter what positive thing is happening in my life, I see a shadow lurking around the corner.  In all honesty, life itself has taught me to think like that but, even so, it’s something I would do better without.  Perhaps I should embrace enthusiasm a little more. Just a bit.  Clap a little harder.  Mutter a little less. Let me think about it.

Sorry- nope – not going to happen…..just thinking about that makes me feel earnest and that would be deadly. Sorry. No.

Now I’m going to skip to the other end where Boredom meets Ennui.

Ennui is the flip-side of Euphoria.  If Euphoria is the dangerous daughter of Enthusiasm then Ennui is Boredom’s toxic son.  It goes beyond a lack of desire to do something positive and lands at a lack of desire to do anything at all which, for me, is depression.  I do everything in my power to avoid this extreme even if it means not losing weight while I get sorted.   When I say I fear Euphoria, it’s because this is what it leads to.

Good old fashioned Boredom, however, is just the standard place where many of us find ourselves after a lifetime of dieting.  We know the drill. We know what’s going to happen in weeks 1 and 2.  We know how many weeks in the gym it’s going to take to feel fitter.  We know which belt hole goes with which number on the scale.  Boredom is only a very bad thing when the thought of it prevents us from doing what we need to do.  I’m kind of there right now.  I need to get past that, shake up my routine a little and just do what needs to be done because I know that putting one foot in front of the other will take me to where I want to be.

So where do I want to be?  I’m going to call it Reality.  This is the stage where I can do what I need to do and truly enjoy the small rewards of eating well and liking what I see in the mirror.  It also involves accepting my flaws and celebrating my real self in the context of my whole life – not just a weight loss routine.

More introspection……  I’m the child of a man who loved us all deeply but couldn’t say it.  He didn’t know how to frame the words, “I’m proud of you”, whether we’d achieved a little or a lot.  I’m happy to report that the last words he ever said to me were out of pride and gratitude and I’m incredibly thankful that at the very end of his life he found a way to say it – out loud, in front of others.

However, the 48 years leading up to that moment involved some pretty hard work trying to get approval where none was forthcoming and that leaves its mark. At some point in my adult life I decided that I could no longer spend my days looking for affirmation.  I don’t remember it happening, but I find myself, today, not nearly so motivated by what people might say about me if I accomplish something.  I write because there are an awful lot of words that I need to express.  I work because I’ve got something to offer.  I have friendships with people who bounce back love and laughter and caring.

That doesn’t mean I reject positive comments.   I like to be affirmed.  No, I love to be affirmed.  But I don’t let the possibility of a compliment be the reason for getting out of bed in the morning.  Usually.

So that’s where I want to be: feet on the ground, success in small steps, encouragement without euphoria. I want to celebrate real success.  When I’ve been at my chosen weight for a whole year – that’s when you’ll hear the celebrations.  I might even allow myself a touch of euphoria.  And a small happy dance. Then I’ll get on with year two.

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