Millie

After 30 years of battling the same 30 pounds, I decided that the permanent solution lay in talking and talking and talking until the underlying issues got figured out. Welcome to the work in progress! Gracie, Mardee & Donna also drop by to chat about their own weight loss journeys.

 
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I do.  I blame Lycra.

A pair of jeans with a bit of Lycra can accommodate five extra pounds without cutting or grabbing.  Some might think this is a good thing but it does no favours for those of us who are prone to five pound gains which turn into ten, fifiteen, twenty pound gains.

Aside: Does that remind anyone else of School House Rock? Not the weight gain obviously, but the counting by 5′s song?

Anyway – I guess this all takes me back to the fact that I don’t have an objective view of my body shape and size or I might notice a five pound weight gain even if my clothes are still comfortable.  Or is that wrong?  Surely a tightening waistband has always been the first sign of putting on a few pounds!  And now we’ve lost that small but important tool.  It takes at least 10 pounds before my clothes don’t fit.

So it’s back to the mirror, the tape measure and the scales to keep this weight in control.

Just writing that makes me feel exhausted.  I’m exhausted by my own inability to take care of myself.  I’ve had SO much stress these past six months that I have lost all enthusiasm for this process.  But I haven’t lost the determination to never be fat again.  I’m still a healthy BMI and I plan to stay that way.

So there’s no option unless someone somewhere cares to let me in on a previously undisclosed miracle for keeping off weight that doesn’t include balancing calories consumed with calories expended.

Anyone?

I didn’t think so.

Back to the journal I go.  Where I will honestly and consistently write down what I’m eating until someone comes up with something better.

Post Script Thought:  My belts are all a bit big now.  If the waistband isn’t going to tell me about five pounds, I guess I should buy a couple of belts that will keep me informed.  Hmmmmm – after next payday.

 
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I need to I am going to figure out how to change a few things that negatively affect my weight:

  • I have a real home and a spare home.  Time in the spare home is unavoidable but always leads to a 3-5lb weight gain.  So what am I going to do about that?

I’m going to plan my first week of meals before I leave the UK.  I know what’s in a Canadian grocery store.  I know what I should be eating.  I also know that I can’t depend on myself to buy the right things unless I have a plan.

  • I spend about 6 weeks of the year recovering from jet lag.  When I’m tired I don’t feel like moving or eating well.

I’m going to plan my first week of meals on the return trip too.  I even know that I can email the list to the man and have it all waiting in the kitchen when I get home.  I just need to do it.

  • I’m not taking care of my spiritual being lately and that has got to have some effect on my physical self.

I’m going to start setting the alarm and getting up early to a house with no computers or Blackberries.  I will keep those things off until I’ve had a time of quiet to start the day – a time without screens demanding my attention.

  • When I’m tired and not eating well, I don’t want to put on my exercise gear and head out into public.

I will use my proven technique of earphones, sunglasses and a baseball cap as a perfectly good cloak of invisibility.  Part of me sits here longing to walk while the other part says, “Have another cup of coffee.”

  • When I’m tired/stressed/insert what you want, I feel like I just can’t be bothered to journal what I’m eating.  Sometimes that’s ok, but when I’m in this frame of mind and the fat has started to re-attach itself within my belly, I must commit to writing it all down.

So…..I will write down what I’ve eaten just for today.

Edit:  I forgot about the daily weighing.  It’s been over a month that I haven’t been weight every day and it seems to be an important tool for my weight maintenance.  So I’m back on it with a new Millie page.

By the way, I blame lycra for my problems.  You can gain five pounds these days and every fits as usual.  But that’s another post.

 
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I’m a change addict. I love a new day, a fresh start, a clean slate and every other cliché you can throw at me.

But change isn’t always pain free.

Take the recent events over at BCB. During a much needed, but perhaps not completely well thought out, spring cleaning of the boards, my whole little part of the community was wiped out.  Literally all our posts from forever were accidentally lost.  When some of my friends commented (and I never saw what they said), they were permanently banned from the boards.

What to do?  I have years and years of history there and can honestly say that the BCB mind set was the first step towards learning to take and keep weight off.

But I have exactly the same number of years history with those particular individuals, some of whom post here too.  For a couple of days I lurked at the new board and tried to find a place but just couldn’t summon up the enthusiasm to make new “friends” when the people I had connected with were elsewhere.  So I decided to join the crew at our invite-only facebook group.

Exclusive?  Yep – but lots of people are over there and we’re still supporting  each other and working through the issues that trip us up every day.

I still think BCB should be the first port of call for anyone who feels stuck on the weight loss roller coaster – for anyone who feels weak and powerless in the face of chocolate – for anyone who needs a good kick in the pants.  For that reason, I’ll leave the link here, but I won’t be back because it’s time to move on.

 
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Ready?

Eating well makes your whole body feel better.

Obvious?  Yes.

Needs to be re-learned on a regular basis?  Yes.

  • Not drinking wine is a sacrifice on the one hand but a bonus on the other.
  • Not filling up on carbs is a sacrifice on the one hand but a bonus on the other.

I don’t need to go on but I will….

  • Cooking porridge is a sacrifice on the one hand but a bonus on the other.
  • Snacking on baby carrots rather than crackers is a sacrifice on the one hand but a bonus on the other.
  • Drinking only plain mint tea in the evenings is a sacrifice on the one hand but a bonus on the other.
  • Measuring anything at all is a sacrifice on the one hand but a bonus on the other.

And on non-eating topics:

Tackling that email/cleaning/budget/phone call/procrastinated work project is a sacrifice on the one hand but a giant life-giving bonus on the other.

So here’s to another day of more of the same.

 
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New month and a fresh start.

I’ve gained several pounds and am going to take them off.  I think I’ll just post my daily weight here à la Bridget Jones.

Day 1
weight: 149lbs
units of alcohol: 0 This is in arrears for yesterday, just in case anyone was worrying.

I have a feeling that will only last a couple of days – but I might as well give myself a structured start or I’m going to put on another 7 then another and and and, voilà, I’m back to where I started. And not happy.

Laziness is my worst personality trait along with over-thinking things that I should just let go.  So here’s to a fresh start at a concerted effort to push through the laziness barrier and do the things that I don’t feel like doing. Take the walk, make the phone call, cook the porridge, lift the weights. And, most importantly, come here to write and be accountable to myself and the tiny community that reads this.  It does make a difference to know that people are reading and watching the process.

Really – it’s not hard and I have a pretty marvellous life.  I just need to somehow get past those times when I find myself paralysed my stress and indecision. I’m 49 years old and “doing the right thing” still doesn’t come naturally to me, as long as I’m the only one to suffer from my negative behaviour.

So, for today, and one day at a time for the foreseeable future, I’m going to do the right thing for myself.

 
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I’m sagging a little beneath the weight of the crises of the people around me.  What I thought was going to be some time “away” has turned into time “sharing the burden” with the nearest and the dearest.

And for me, a melt-down once removed is still a melt-down.

However – the day following the shared melt-down was lovely and I found myself making decisions about what was going into my mouth rather than being caught in the stuff/regret cycle.

Went out for a late breakfast on Sunday and actually paid attention when told that the portions were huge and got only a half order of Eggs Flo-Benedict: one egg, one English muffin, piles of spinach, a sprinkling of feta and hollandaise on the side. Chuck on some non-greasy home fries and a couple mugs of coffee and I was ready for the rest of the day. I even left some potatoes.

If I’d had the whole portion, I probably would have eaten all the potatoes because, well, what the hell, eh?

Then we walked  – strolled really – but used our feet to cover a a few miles, mooch at the market, drift in and out of art studios, pottery studios, paper studios and, of course, the hat store where the daughter has been trying on hats since she could whine and point. Fun.

It felt good to take that baby step.  I’ve also managed to get back into my “no food on the ferry” routine.  There are cheap refined carbs at every turn in this place and it’s hard to always pass them by buy I don’t think I have a choice any longer.

Then, just when I was talking myself into the best pizza on earth, I found myself turning into the grocery store. Tired and hungry I headed straight for the candied salmon – a locally produced delicacy – and, for the first time read the nutritional information.  Four pieces have 180 calories.  I eat at least 12 pieces when I have it.  Maybe not the best choice.  Instead, I got some other locally smoked salmon for half the calories and a third the price and had a smoked salmon salad feast with a couple of new potatoes.  Lovely.

And the last baby step:  I bought no wine.

And on that note, I’d better run.

 
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I don’t have a lot of time but wanted to report back on my fitness assessment.

I went with my lovely daughter who feels pretty much recovered from several years of chronic fatigue syndrome but hasn’t been able to exercise in all that time.  Because she’s been worried about putting on weight and not eating right, I thought momentarily about signing her up for Weight Watchers – but really only momentarily.  I thought about all the money I’d paid into the WW coffers over the years and about how much better it would have been if I’d spent that money getting in shape and learning about nutrition.  So that’s my 21st birthday present to her – 3 months of weekly visits to a personal trainer.

We met with our lovely new trainer, Svetlana, to go through the Polar BodyAge fitness test.

I was pleasantly surprised by how chilled out and unselfconscious we were about our less than perfect bodies.  I got the feeling that Svetlana mostly meets women who hate their flaws and aren’t happy even with the good bits.  I think she was a little surprised by how matter of fact we are about our own and each other’s bodies.  It seems that years of watching Trinny and Susannah together have made us very blunt about such things – in a loving and (we think) funny way – but it must seem a bit strange to an outsider.

So here’s how it panned out for me:

Nutrition was good though I was describing my normal diet at home with the husband rather than what I’ve actually been doing to myself for the past week. (yes, “doing to myself” is the best description I can find.)

Cardiovascular, strength and flexibility were all fair or average – so no surprise there and a pleasant change from “poor” when I did an assessment eight years ago.

The big surprise was my body composition which, using skinfold measurements, was only 23.5% fat.   I guess  my skinny limbs balanced out my fat tummy because the belly definitely needs shrinking but there are no bingo wings in sight.

And the final pleasant surprise is that my body-age is two years less than my real age.  I turn 49 next week but my body is only 47.  And, apparently, my goal for the next few months is to get it down another 12 years.  (oh, really?)  So I will be 35 by summer.

The daughter had good news too: she’s officially a beautiful young woman who just needs to do a bit more exercise, tone up her gorgeous curves and eat breakfast – not nearly as de-conditioned as we thought she might be.

I have a session next week to plan out my exercise routine for the coming months and I’m looking forward to it more than I thought I would.

 
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Well that was a bit more of a break than I intended to take.

And I gained 4lbs in the process. Doesn’t that happen easily?
I’m on the other side of the ocean now and I always find it hard to find a healthy rhythm of life out here. A little bit of that has to do with my schedule but most of it has to do with the fact that I’m all alone and can do what I damn well please.

So what can’t I control?

  • the fact that I have to visit my mom between 11 and 2 pm – which means that I have to eat breakfast late enough to stave off hunger or fall victim to the “I’d better have a cookie so I don’t faint” lie.
  • the price of good healthy food
  • the poor quality of produce at this time of year.

What can I control?

  • How much I walk
  • What I do with my morning up until 11 am
  • The planning of my meals
  • The cooking of my meals
  • Whether or not I buy wine
  • And everything else

No excuses at all except the whiny, poor me ones.

SO.  On that note, I’ve booked a session with a personal trainer in the city this week.  I figure I’d rather have one on this side because it’s where my exercise routine seems to fall apart.  I talked to her on the phone last night and am now really looking forward to my assessment on Friday.

The other thing that has helped get me re-motivated has been catching up on X-Weighted – particularly the family series.  It has been a surprising way for me to deal with some of the feelings I’ve had all my life about being an overweight child and teen.  There are such lovely, articulate and hurting kids and such loving parents who are feeling quite lost about discovering their roles in the whole issue.  Great viewing – and not just voyeuristic crap – but an opportunity for education and inspiration.

So that’s where I’m up to on this journey.  I need I’m going to plan some meals and make a shopping list now. The Boy is coming up later and I want to have a good meal planned and in the fridge before he gets here so there’s no wavering.

 
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The Doc called me while I was having lunch with the husband in the pub. Apparently he took my case to his group of cronies and they think it’s all benign so we’ll just watch and scan once in a while. I can live with that for now though I still might get a second opinion.

Now I’ve got to think about getting off these last few pounds. Back to the battle – but first a big long airplane ride.

 
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I’ve been thinking of various ways to describe a crazy person and my favourite by far is the beautifully British,

mad as a box of frogs.

Pretty descriptive of my past few days.  I’m only writing today because I seem to have found myself in a period of calm.  I’m glad that I have an iota of self-knowledge – mostly that worrying about anything makes that thing and everything else a hundred times worse.  If I don’t check that anxiety, I head right into mad frog box mode.

In saner times I assume that aches, pains and other weird symptoms are either hormonal or stress related – or both- and to be ignored till they go away, which they almost always do.  But on box of frog days, all aches, pains and weird symptoms are something to be noted, analysed for intensity and, much worse, Googled!  Oh dear.

So for today,  Google is banished and I am assuming that the new twinges and pangs are related to this most hormonal of weeks.

Meanwhile, the husband has declared it my birthday because the real one rolls around while I’m out of the country. The fake birthday comes complete with friends over for a special dinner and the cake of my choice – which is, of course, the only cake that the husband knows how to bake.  Luckily it’s the one I really want. I’m also not allowed to clean the house  – a treat that I frequently bestow on myself anyway, but I appreciate the sentiment.

Tomorrow I will give the specialist one last call before I fly away just to see if he’s made his mind up yet.  The more I talk to people about my current experience, the more I realise I’m just very unlucky with this particular doctor.

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