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I Choose Life

Today was a particularly stressful day at work: though I only have four other co-workers (besides the owner), the women in this office thrive on gossip, hearsay and drama!  I try to live a very peaceful, stress-free life and look at things from a positive perspective most of the time; this office is the polar opposite.

Very long story short...H, the owner's personal-assistant and self-proclaimed office manager, met with some colleagues from our sister company last Friday.  I have never personally met these colleagues, but have worked with them at length and we share a mutual high-esteem for one another.  During their meeting, she spoke negatively about J (the receptionist), T (my supervisor, head of Compliance) and myself.  Among other things, we are supposedly difficult to work with, she used to be "our boss" but since we moved offices (in May) we no longer listen to her, I walk around like I run things...among others.  What she said is not why I'm upset.  In fact, I found it humorous because she was never in a position of management, but tried to use her seniority to give other people her work (even though no part of our job overlaps and the only people that I have ever reported to are T and the owner).  The part that upset me is that just a couple weeks ago, though H has always been grumpy and cantankerous, I flat-ironed H's hair and did her make-up for her staff photo.

Let me give you a bit of background here: months ago, I started working on the company brochure and requested that J, the receptionist, and H provide staff photos since they did not have one on file.  H showed obvious trepidation at having her image immortalized on an 11x14 sheet of stock paper.  H is short, chubby, she resembles the rocker Meatloaf with frizzy hair.  I work in financial services and we deal with very high net worth clients; professionalism is of utmost importance in my field, yet H often looks like she has rolled out of bed and grabbed the nearest pair of capris and Birkenstocks.  She looks like she does not care, but in observing her conversation, I realized that she feels ugly.  When the conversation of the brochure came up and she refused to have a photo included, I offered to do her hair and makeup if it would make her feel better.  She turned down the offer and we didn't speak about it again.  About two weeks, after months of her doing malicious things (going through my office while I'm away, telling lies about me and other displays of personal dissatisfaction) she approached me and said that she'd seen the draft of the brochure and didn't like that she was the only one without a picture so she wanted to get her picture taken after all.  She asked if I would do her hair and makeup and I agreed.  I was excited for the opportunity to have her look in the mirror at herself and say "Wow".  I was excited for the chance to show her that she could be beautiful if she put forth a little effort.  I was excited to see her walk with confidence.  The act was from the goodness of my heart, not with any expectations; however, perhaps a small part of me believed that it would be a peace offering to help promote a more cordial and professional work environment.

Fast-forwarding to last Friday's meeting.  J, the receptionist, overheard H speaking about the three of us and confronted H about it after the colleagues left.  Claws came out, curse words were thrown and something akin to an old Western showdown occurred.  H called J over the weekend to apologize: she said she didn't know why she said such bad things about us, that both T and myself had been so kind to her in the past, she was deeply regretful.  She begged J not to tell the owner and, moreover, not to tell T or me.  J, unmoved, told her that she had to own up to what she did.

I walked into the office Monday, completely oblivious to the tension that fouled the air.  J pulled me aside and filled me in on what happened Friday and over the weekend.  H was quiet all day.  The normally boisterously loud grouch had been silenced.  Needless to say things were very awkward.  She called out Tuesday (the same day that the owner, B and T went out of town, leaving only J and myself in the office).  Yesterday, H said not one word again all day.  Today, H had been quiet all day until I overheard her again talking negatively about J and me.  I am confused at how someone can wear two faces so easily...until now, I had only heard that H had an issue with me by hearsay.  H has always been reasonably pleasant with me and any animosity was not directly targeted at me.  I don't know where this is coming from, neither do I understand how she can have the audacity to do the things she does.

I understand that it's not personal and says nothing about me and everything about her: her feelings about me are only a mirror of what she thinks of herself.  Knowing this doesn't make it hurt any less that I too often extend myself to people who only trudge upon my pearls like swine.  I feel betrayed, though I never had an illusion of loyalty.  I feel disrespected, though I always gave her more respect than she earned.

Normally I would come home and pour a glass of wine, sulk in my feelings until the sweet rest of intoxication took over and sleep pulls me into her bosom.  I would eat as many sweet, salty, fatty, creamy, empty foods as it took to numb my emotions and then I would feel guilty about my binge and eat more.  This time, however, I refuse to allow negativity to derail me.  I am going to Zumba tonight and going to sweat out my worries, breathe out my anger and dance out my frustration.

I choose life!

5 Must-Know Tips for New Cyclists

In my 48 hours of experience as a cyclist, I have learned a few poignant lessons that I wish someone told me ahead of time.  Consider this the new cyclists' Bible of sorts (well, maybe not so dramatic...just some things you really really really need to know!)

1.  Texting while driving is bad; texting while biking is INSANE!  I admit that I do some pretty unsafe things while driving: putting on lipstick, texting/talking on the phone, searching through my glove box.  I have the skill of a circus juggler behind the wheel...sadly, this doesn't translate well to biking.  I have been using an application called Endomondo to track my speed and distance, but one problem is that the touch screen causes me to accidentally hit pause while I'm riding.  The simple motion of me attempting to remove my phone from my shoulder strap sent me shakily wobbling and subsequently overcorrecting.  Thankfully I was on a dedicated cyclist/runner's trail so there was no danger, but all I could picture was my face kissing asphault!  I rode past a young guy texting with both hands...he was quite skilled.  I, on the other hand, am not.  YET!

2.  Don't sing while biking (probably shouldn't talk either).  Secretly, I am Beyonce.  She only comes out behind closed doors: in the bathroom mirror to the song in my head, in my office when everyone has gone for the day...and when I'm exercising.  I sing and dance, make the faces and poses...I am Beyonce.  Yesterday evening I learned that Beyonce should not ride a bike!  As I was pedalling full force, rocking to the diva anthem bumping in my headphones, singing and performing the routine for my audience of moi, I rode right through...a swarm of gnats!!!  Motorcycles have lovely windshields and face visors to protect from head-on insect collisions, bicyclists are only given an alien-inspired styrofoam hat.  I always thought cyclists were trying to look cool with their sun shades...maybe it's to protect from bug guts in the cornea.

3.  Hills are not fun...especially going down.  I didn't realize that the trail I was riding had a slight incline.  Yes, my thighs were on fire and my calves begged, but I switched to a higher gear and pushed through the discomfort.  I finished the first mile turned around at the end of the trail...and then I realized I'd been going uphill the whole time.  Going back down, my bike took off on its own.  This would have been a great thrill ride, except that every 1/3 mile or so, the trail intersected with traffic.  Remember when I said I was too impatient to wait for my custom brakes and picked up the bike with only coaster brakes...BAD IDEA!!!  Several times while flying down the hill, I started to apply the coaster brake, only to realize that I should have started sooner.  Afraid to cause a skid and tire blowout, I didn't want to brake too hard but the intersection was so close!  I braced myself, braked urgently...and then had the not-so-bright idea to use my foot to help stop the bike!  Um...that was just plain idiotic.  I left the trail with all tires and limbs intact, but I will be overjoyed when the custom front brakes arrive. 

4.  Know your booty...love your booty!  One of the selling points of my bike was the plush embroidered seat and handlebars.  Cute is not always practical...especially when it comes to a bicycle seat.  I figure that I'll be spending much more time on the saddle, so I need to buy something designed more ergonomically-correct.  We all have sit bones...and while mine are well-insulated beneath a thick layer of cellulite, sit bones hurt like hell when you sit on them!  I didn't realize this while I was cycling and having a great time...but when I got home and stretched...sat on the edge of the couch to get a reeeeeallly good stretch...I found my sit bones!  OUCH!!!  I know it will improve with time, but even now as I'm typing this message, I'm very aware of the sharp pain when I sit in certain positions.  I found a seat with a gel cushion and a separation between the sit bones to relieve pressure...hopefully that will work.  In the meantime, I'm finding kind things to do for my butt (massage, standing instead of sitting, impromptu booty shake) to make up for the torture of the saddle.

5.  Lycra is very ugly...but probably useful.  My standard workout wardrobe consists of sweatpants and old t-shirts...I might do a matching set if I'm feeling fancy.  This is not the best thing for biking; rolling in the wind, I felt like a parachute.  My too-big tee in combination with the upright sitting position of a beach cruiser made for some pretty UN-aerodynamic riding.  According to Endomondo, my average speed was 8mph, though I felt like I was pedalling enough for 50mph.  Once I've been riding a while, I will definitely invest in some riding shoes and cleats along with some tight little ugly lycra shorts.  I'm too sexy for my lycra!

One thing that I'm loving about biking is that I can set attainable goals for myself to keep things fun and challenging.  One of my previous problems with working out is that my goals were always about how many pounds I lost and when I didn't hit the goal, I would feel like a failure.  The scale has not been so friendly to me this go round (though I only have 2 1/2 more pounds to go before I hit my first goal), so I figure if I focus on my health, stamina and performance, the weight will follow. 

I completed 2.25 miles in 16:38 yesterday.  My first phase of goals:

1.  Complete the 2.25 mile loop in 15 minutes flat.
2.  Complete 2.5 miles in 15 minutes.
3.  Complete 4.5 miles (the loop twice) in under 30 minutes.
4.  Complete 5 miles in under 30 minutes.

Biker Babe

I rushed to the bike shop after work last night to go pick up my new toy...a Phat Cycles Beach Cruiser!  After searching for several weeks for a bike that would be sturdy enough to withstand my weight, I settled on a burgundy and black cruiser with leopard trim; the ride is incredibly comfortable and relaxing.  I raced home and made a quick dinner so that I could get out and start riding.

Yesterday was one of those nothing-in-the-fridge/thrown-together meals.  Normally after staring in the fridge for a few minutes and finding nothing to cook, I would settle on something quick (cereal, sandwich) or just go out to dinner.  I was in a creative mood...I boiled a chicken breast with some green onions, garlic, ginger, cumin and curry powder.  When it was done, I shredded the chicken and tossed it in a light peanut butter/coconut milk sauce I made.  Mixed in some raisins, sliced baby carrots, green onion, and cinnamon and had it on top of baby greens with mashed sweet potato on the side.  It was quite random, but tasty and light!

Honestly, I could have eaten a slice of bread for dinner...my only concern was getting outside on my bike. 

When I tested the bike at the shop, the ground was flat so I was fooled into thinking that I was Lance Armstrong!  As I mounted the bike in my garage and slowly pedaled into the driveway, the slight decline sent me flying into the street (thankfully there were no cars nearby).  They say that you never forget how to ride a bike--but they didn't say you'd remember how to steer!  As I wobbily navigated my way onto the sidewalk, I started to second guess my decision to get a bicycle...maybe I should just stick with a stationery bike! 

All doubts were erased by my second lap through the cul-de-sac.  The wind whipped the sweat from my forehead, my music thumped hard with lyrics urging me to keep going, don't start what you won't finish, go get it!!!  After about five minutes, I was filled with a euphoria that I'm sure is similar to a runner's high: I felt like a kid again...carefree, unworried, in a state of utopia.  I absolutely LOVE riding!  All day today, I've been anxiously awaiting the moment that I can get back on the saddle.

I only rode for about 25 minutes yesterday...I was too scared to ride near traffic, so stayed in the cul-de-sac...up the hill, around the cul-de-sac, back down, up and around.  I can tell that this will be a very effective workout, I immediately felt the burn in my calves, thighs and buttocks.  But the excitement far outweighed any discomfort.

I've set a few new goals/rewards for myself:

1.  When I lose 125 pounds, I will buy myself a custom hybrid bicycle for racing.

2.  I will ride in a half-journey next summer.

3.  If I can ride 100 total miles before July 31, I will treat myself to a new pair of riding shoes.

Do you have any fun workouts that make you forget you're exercising?

Top 5 Reasons I HATE Being Fat

(Photo Copyright 2005 Mike Rozman/Warner Bros. Television)

This was a very busy weekend, filled with several reminders of why I absolutely abhor being tubby; unlike Tyra Banks, I can't simply take off the makeup and fat suit!  I am more motivated than ever to reach my goals--to be rid of this fat girl both physically and mentally--to fearlessly pursue my happiness. 

I'm sure my list of reasons I hate being fat could fill an encyclopedia...or at the least, could wrap around my waist twice!  For the sake of sanity, I'll just stick with the top five.

1.  I HATE shopping at fat girl stores.  I was invited to a party for my boss' husband this weekend, so I went shopping for a new outfit.  I walked into Lane Bryant and it looked like a box of crayons had exploded on the sales floor.  I am thoroughly convinced that the person who designs for plus-size stores is either color blind and/or has a secret mission to make all fat women look like a King-Size bag of Skittles!  On top of mostly everything being horribly ugly, the few cute pieces that I found were ridiculously priced!  Now, I'm not disillusioned...I realize that it takes a lot more fabric to fit over my derriere, but I could have sewn together four skinny dresses from Kohls and spent less than the cost of a shirt at Lane Bryant!  In some cultures and religions, being fat is a sign of prosperity...but just because I have extra love curves does not mean that my wallet weighs as much as I do!  When I'm thin, I'm going to buy $3 dresses even if they're not cute...just because I can!

2.  My butt eats bike seats.  I went bike shopping on Friday evening, which was incredibly fun!  I felt like a kid again riding through the parking lot at full speed...until I sat down and felt excruciating pain on my tail bone.  Bike seats were not made for big butts...I'm sure none of Sir Mix-A-Lot's girls rode them!  Thankfully, the bike I chose has a plush seat so it's a little more comfortable, but I will have to build up some serious booty muscles to help ease the pain (and associated numbness) that comes with riding with too much junk in the trunk!  I was supposed to wait a week to pick it up because I had some custom front brakes added, but I am so anxious to start riding, I called and told them I'd pick it up tonight and bring it back when the brakes come in.  I'll be sure to post a picture of it tonight.  When I'm thin, I'm sure my butt will still hurt on bike seats, but at least it will look cuter doing it.

3.  I'm sick and tired of my thighs rubbing together.  This probably needs to be the first item actually!  I hate buying new pants and within an hour of me walking in them, I have a lovely nest of lint balls between my legs from my thighs rubbing together.  I can't sneak up on anyone...you can hear me coming like crickets trapped in a paper bag.  I stopped wearing pantyhose a long time ago (and nylon pants) to avoid spontaneous combustion from the friction.  When I'm thin, each leg (and corresponding thigh) will stay on its own side of my body and the two shall only meet when I choose to introduce them!

4.  I don't like baby powder in the summer.  We fat girls sure go through a lot to maintain our sexy (though this post has definitely knocked mine down SEVERAL notches, I'm sure).  Some people look sexy and hard working when they sweat...not fat people.  We look like a slow-roasted pig on the rotisserie...greasy, crackling, burnt!  To calm our overactive sweat glands, chubby girls often use baby powder.  I absolutely hate baby powder, but my options are limited: either flour myself like southern fried chicken or be a hot, sweaty, chafing mess!  I choose the former.  There is a fine art to baby powdering a fat girl...you have to make sure to get every square inch that might possibly sweat...especially in between each fat roll, under the belly fat, in the small (or LARGE) of the back, under boobies.  I find nothing attractive about being a large, grown woman smelling like a freshly-changed baby!  When I'm thin, I will have sexy sweat.

5.  Being self-conscious about eating in front of strangers.  This may be owed in part to my poor relationship with food and history of eating disorders, but I find that eating in front of others is one of the most humiliating things ever (second only to dancing in a studio filled with skinny people and mirrors).  Most often, I leave the table still hungry after nibbling only a few bites and claiming that I'm stuffed.  I try to match bite speed so that I don't seem like I'm gobbling my food (though I find that many thin girls actually eat a LOT).  Of course they can't possibly believe that I really eat like a bird...maybe Big Bird!  When I'm thin, everyone will be in awe (instead of disgust) at how much I can eat.

What do YOU hate about being fat???

Easy Like Sunday Morning...

Today was a very easy-going day...woke up early to the puppies anxiously running laps around my bed.  Had a quick granola and almond milk breakfast.  Even though it's July, it feels like fall here, so I made some chicken veggie soup for the week.

Rosemary Chicken and Vegetable Soup
Approximately 10-14 servings

3 cups unsalted chicken stock
3 cups water
1T dried rosemary
4 bay leaves
2 Roma tomatoes, diced
1/2 red bell pepper
1T fresh thyme
1T fresh basil
1/2 cup red onion, coarsely chopped
1 cup green onion
4 cloves garlic, chopped
2 stalks celery, coarsely chopped
1 1/2 pounds chicken (breast or thigh), grilled and chopped
1 cup baby carrots, chopped
1 large potato
2 ears corn, roasted and cut off cob
2 medium zucchini, coarsely chopped
2 cups baby kale (or regular kale, chopped)
1 habanero pepper, chopped
1/2T cayenne pepper (optional)
3 cups red cabbage
2T lemon juice
1T sugar
2tsp salt
1 chicken bouillon cube
1/2 to 1T olive oil (enough to coat bottom of pot)

In large stockpot, heat olive oil over medium heat.  Add garlic and thyme, stir until fragrant.  Add red onion, bell pepper, celery and salt.  Saute approximately one minute, stirring constantly.  Add chicken stock, water, bay leaves, rosemary, bouillon cube, baby carrots and potato.  Simmer approximately 30 minutes.  Add kale, zucchini, chicken and cabbage.  Simmer additional 15 minutes.  Add roasted corn, lemon juice, sugar.  Simmer additional 2 minutes and remove from heat.  Stir in basil and cover with lid.  Note: I only had thighs on hand, but I would normally use breasts to lower the fat and cholesterol.  Nutrition facts below are using chicken thighs.

Nutrition Facts:  Serving size 14oz (389g); Total Calories 319; Total Fat 11.1g; Saturated Fat 3.1g; Cholesterol 93mg; Sodium 363mg; Total Carbohydrates 21.9g; Fiber 5.1g (20%); Sugars 6.4g; Protein 33.3g; Vitamin A 110%; Vitamin C 87%; Calcium 12%; Iron 24%  (caloriecount.com Nutrition Grade A)

We took the puppies for a walk down by the wetlands.  I'm always reminded of why I love Portland when I walk through nature.

That was...until I came across a gaggle of geese (and their poop all over the trail)...

Overall, it was a lovely Sunday.  About to curl up with some hot tea and enjoy these last few hours until the weekend melts into Manic Monday.

Disappearing Acts

(All photo rights © 2009 Steve Topper Photography http://stevetopper.com/)

The funny thing about exercise is that somewhere in the midst of gasping for air and sweating like a roasting pig, there is a deep solitude and stillness that allows me to hear my inner voice's whispered screams.  I took the puppies on a two mile hike through the woods after dinner last night.  The solitude of nature, the sweet melody of sparrows serenading, the wind caressing leaves high above my head...all contributed to a resonant tranquility and forced my conscious mind to rest from her endless worries. 

I reflected on the path that I've started towards a healthier life, pondered my destiny as a motivational speaker and writer...eventually my thoughts rested on what brought me to this point.  While obesity is a major epidemic in the developed world, "normal fat" is gaining more acceptance, while "super fat" people are forced into the shadows.  What triggered my progression from "normal fat" to "super-sized"?

To be perfectly fair, I was always destined to carry a bit more weight than my peers...from a family of large people steeped in southern tradition, there was little that I could have done to prevent wide hips and thick thighs.  There were, however, several more profound events that I can pinpoint, which led to my chronic depression and, in turn, my weight issues.  In many ways, being fat was a way for me to disappear.  Thin people are considered gorgeous, sought after, wanted; while their larger counterparts are often discarded, written off and devalued.  My whole life I felt discarded, written off, devalued...me gaining weight was simply a reflection of my inner struggle with Self.

I previously alluded to the fact that I was discarded at birth.  I was the child of two too-young-for-parenthood teenagers: a 14-year-old father whose deeply religious parents shunned my mother and declared emphatically that I couldn't be their son's child...a mother who battled her own depression and often-harsh upbringing.  I have heard several variations of the story, but this I know to be true: in the mid-morning hours on March 30, 1984 my then 16-year-old mother delivered me...alone in her father's house.  I can only imagine the panic and fear that overwhelmed her!  Unsure of what to do, she placed me in a duffel bag and brought me to the bayou where she placed me in a hole.  I was in the hole for little more than a week before I was found by two best friends who happened to be crawfishing.  As the story was plastered across every newspaper and television in Louisiana, my mother became very ill because, due to her inexperience with childbirth, she failed to deliver the after-birth.  It wasn't hard to figure out I was the missing baby she claimed to have never had.  Somehow I was placed back with her--either because the Divine has a wonderful sense of humor, or because there was a greater plan for my life and this was simply the road I needed to travel. 

I've heard that my mom loved me very much when I was a baby.  I remember hearing her tell me those words on occasion, but honestly...I never felt loved or wanted.  I was a very smart child and excelled at most things I tried, so I never felt lacking for praise and recognition, though when I wasn't "perfect" there was never a shortage of insults and criticisms either.  It was the affectionate, quality-time, "I am happy you're in my life" love that was missing; perhaps she never received it to give. 

By the time my mother was 20 and I was 4 1/2 years old, she had four children.  As is often the case with young mothers, she worked more than she was home so by six years old, I became the default baby sitter.  When she was home, we were reminded how hard we made her life...how much of a burden we were to her...her frustrations manifested as welts and bruises on delicate skin.

Beginning at six years old and lasting nearly a year, I was molested by a middle schooler in my apartment complex; one instance, she decided to include her uncle.  For years, I harbored guilt and resentment.  I thought she was my friend...why didn't I tell anyone...why didn't I make her stop???  Home alone with no supervision, food became a solace for me at a young age.  The feeling of being stuffed seemed to momentarily fill the void left by the gaping hole in my soul.

I started injuring myself at ten years old...the first time, literally attempting to erase myself (which of course only led to eraser burn).  I wore the facade of a 4.0 student, young violinist, talented writer...only to mask the reality that I was a lonely, unloved and discarded child.  "Erasing" led to trying to cut pieces of myself away with scissors, which led to burning myself with matches and eventually cutting with razor blades.  I tried to make myself vanish by any means necessary.

My younger brother was my best friend and he was heart broken to discover that I had been hurting myself.  I was always his protector...his confidante...until I couldn't be anymore.  He always got the worst end of my mother's wrath, so she felt it necessary for him to move across the country to live with his father, whom he had never met.  Overnight, I went from having a brother to only speaking with him on his birthday.  There were no pictures of him in our home...it was as if he only existed when he visited every few years.  My heart shattered the day my brother left!  (Thankfully, we are both adults now and have reconnected.  We speak several times a week, which makes my heart smile!)

In middle school, I began to suffer from an eating disorder.  The food that was such a wonderful comfort for me, became the target of my self-hatred.  I starved myself all day, claiming that I wasn't hungry when in truth I just didn't want others to see me eating.  Nobody could know the great joy that eating gave me...a joy that nothing else had ever rivaled.  After school, I would go home and gorge myself on whatever was in reach (which was always a secret because we weren't allowed to eat anything without asking first)...I can remember secretly baking cakes and sharing it with my sisters before my mom came home...trips to the convenience store for chips and candy to be devoured without any evidence.  I would force myself to throw up all of the food and then say I wasn't hungry for dinner.  Eventually my mother and grandmother noticed that I rarely ate--their solution was to force me to sit and eat in front of them (which I would only throw up as soon as they left the room).  This went on through high school and stopped around the time I discovered razor blades.

From high school to college, I tried to commit suicide three times (my mother's response is that I should ask her how next time so I could do it right and stop putting her and my sisters through hell).  My last attempt was in my dorm room with a pint of tangueray and a dixie cup of sleeping pills...I didn't tell any of my family or friends about this.  Three days and a deep spiritual awakening later, I woke up and knew that something in my life had to change immediately!  From that moment forward, I have pursued a life of gratitude and purpose...trying even on my darkest days to find something worth living for.  I no longer cut or force myself to throw up, though many of the same, unresolved issues bubble beneath my surface.  This weight loss journey is forcing many of these problems up like an emetic on a full stomach. 

There, in the still quietness of the woods...the solitude of nature, the sweet melody of sparrows serenading, the wind caressing leaves high above my head...I pushed past the discomfort of aching muscles towards a future of endless possibilities.  A future with no limitations on my potential.  A future where I really love all of me...a future where instead of disappearing, I can actually SEE myself!

The Weight is Over!

(Ernestine Shepherd is my fitness idol!!!  75 years old and looks AMAZING)

For the past couple of weeks, I have been nervously awaiting my gym membership to resume (I placed a freeze on it two months ago so that I didn't have to keep paying when I wasn't going)...it started back up Monday.  I thought that I would be excited, but found that I was filled with anxiety and apprehension.  Self-defeating thoughts filled my head like raspberry jelly in a powdered donut: what will I wear so that I don't look so fat...how do I work out when my joints are hurting so badly...will everyone be looking at me...how do I perform exercise X without my fat rolls jiggling?

The gym has always been an intimidating place for me, though when I am going regularly I am fearless!  My mind plays tricks on me in an attempt to lull me back into the complacency of inactivity.  None of my fears are reality...when I am a regular at the gym, I find that there is endless support from staff and trainers...I see many of the same people and develop a sense of community...I may be the biggest person, but I'm also one of the hardest workers!  In reality, I quite enjoy my time at the gym (it's just the embarrassment that I don't look forward to).  I LOVE lifting weights and attending dance classes.

This morning, I packed my gym bag...once a daily routine...it seemed so foreign today!  I created a workout schedule for the next two weeks and will revise it after that according to my fitness level.

I have proposed the following challenges for myself for the next two weeks:

1.  Follow my workout schedule to the letter (Zumba T, Th, Saturday/Weight Circuit M, W, F)

2.  Attend at least one workout class that I've never tried (considering either kickboxing or Body Pump)

3.  Only take the elevator when going more than 3 flights up or 6 flights down

What is your favorite exercise?  Do you prefer to work out at the gym or outside?

Fat Yoga


I had a great mid-day walk with Anna from Fat Yoga.  We talked about everything from self-esteem/body image issues, size-positive groups available in Portland, aloe vera juice...and of course yoga!  Anna started Fat Yoga after studying for some years and experiencing the discrimination towards "cushy" and otherwise less-abled people.  After searching unsuccessfully for a place that was accepting of her size and willing to teach modifications, she decided to study to become an instructor herself.  A bit eccentric and quite opinionated, Anna passionately detailed her story of how she came to start her business.  There was an instant openness and comfort that I don't often find.

As we started off on our walk, she turned to me and said "I don't think you see yourself the way that others do.  There's no way you have 200 pounds to lose!"  I chuckled a bit as I've heard this so many times since I began telling people my goal--you don't even look that big...you're so pretty and at least you're proportionate...maybe you should just work on losing your stomach, but the rest of you is fine.  I don't know if it's because I'm so tall that people don't realize how large I am, but I am in no way content with myself at this size even if I am proportionately pudgy!  I explained to her that it was about me feeling good about myself, not because of society.  While the weight loss is completely incidental (I'm more focused on being able to reach my fitness goals...complete a cycling race, learn contemporary dance and a partner actually be able to lift me!), losing weight is a vital part in me being able to be the person that I want to be.  She did, however, bring up a great point about being able to completely love and embrace myself at any size.

She told me about a movement called "Health At Every Size" (H.A.E.S.), which encourages people to stop dieting and focus on making good food and fitness choices....for health, not for weight loss.  While this has been my approach, I must admit that I do obsess over the numbers more than my actual health.  In reality, I'm in excellent health...no high blood pressure, diabetes, thyroid or other issues commonly associated with people my size...no mobility or other issues...I'm just FAT!  H.A.E.S. emphasizes that losing weight does not increase a person's value...you are just as beautiful before or after the weight loss.  It also teaches the detriment of dieting (and yoyo weight loss/gain) and focuses on a lifestyle of healthy habits. 

I had to chuckle when we started talking about the many things that big people do to make thinner people more comfortable...I can name a million things that I do: walking more lightly, talking more softly, moving completely out of the way, making myself "smaller" so as not to impose on others...maybe I do see myself as much larger than I really am.  I can remember once being on the elevator with two other ladies and I accidentally backed against the fire alarm; I was mortified thinking that I brought the elevator over the weight limit (which was 3500!)...I guess my preoccupation with my weight and how big I am made me think that everyone else thinks the same thing when they see me.  Maybe this is why I'm always the "jolly" fat girl...you can't be mean or hurtful to someone who's like Santa Clause right?

Overall, the walk was a very nice break and it was wonderful meeting Anna.  I look forward to trying one of her classes. 

My Food Therapist

This evening I attended a dinner party for a hotel chain with whom my company has done business.  I was very nervous about going since I was feeling kind of blah today.  I had a rough day at work and thinking of the dinner automatically made me anxious: how do I stick to my plans without appearing "awkward" or turning down everything...how do I trust myself not to make bad decisions since I'm feeling emotional (especially since it's at one of my favorite restaurants!).  I had every intention of not going to the party, but my coworker wanted to go so, despite my reservations, I went along.

I am EXTREMELY proud of myself!!!  I had one drink (I'm not going to turn down a free drink!) and a few small tapas, but with 550 calories that I had left for dinner and already having met most of my nutrients for the day I am fairly confident that I stayed within my allowance.  I had a mango and some almonds before I arrived and drank about 4 glasses of water while there so that I would feel too full to eat or drink.  I know it's something small, but it seemed very big for me.  

I was speaking with my partner when I got home and explaining how when I'm feeling depressed, something sweet or greasy makes me feel better.  When I'm eating healthily, there is no emotion to it. I eat good foods because of the benefits that I feel in my body, not my emotions.  I eat bad foods because they make me happy...like smiling, mmm mmm mm mmm mmmmm, humming a negro spiritual while I lick my fingers happy!!!  

This will be the hardest part of this process...finding my happy without the help of Sour Patch Kids or mashed potatoes...really digging down deep and discovering what makes my soul shine.  I honestly can't say that I ever remember a time in my life being truly happy.  Food can be like a drug in that way...trick your psyche into accepting a sugar-fueled endorphin rush in place of true joy...chasing the next temporary high in the form of an ice cream sundae.  D.A.R.E. should have taught me to just say no to cheesecake!

The part of losing weight that has always scared me is the deep soul-searching, but I realize that without this necessary component, I'll never truly be free from the pounds; even if I get to my goal size, without the vital self-work, I'll simply be carrying my fat like dead weight (pun intended).  I found a place called Fat Yoga...I think that will be a good practice for me to learn so that I can find the answers that are locked deep within my cellulite.  I meet with the instructor, Anna, tomorrow... I'm so excited!  She was almost 300 pounds at her largest and says that yoga has transformed her life...I've always wanted to try yoga, but was afraid because of my size--the thought of doing a dashama scorpion pose...HA!  But Fat Yoga was developed for "extra cushioned" people with modified poses that still teach proper form and give a good workout.

Anna wanted to meet for coffee, but as part of my commitment to myself, I suggested that we meet for a walk instead.  I know that I will not lose weight overnight, but I'm certainly learning a lot about myself in the process! 

Easy does it

One of my main problems with weight loss is often my black/white thinking: if I can't do it perfectly, why even try?  This is either good or bad.  Because I can't exercise full force, I won't do anything at all.  My perfectionist mindset has always been my greatest hindrance...I put far more pressure on myself than anyone else does.  I'm working on allowing myself room for error; I am human, after all.  This time, I vow that nothing will stop me.  Just because I fall does not mean that I failed...simply that I must get back up.  If I fall, I learn to stand on steadier feet.  To counter this tendency, I have set up a reward system for myself.  I bought myself a charm bracelet and will buy one new charm for every 10 pounds lost.  I'll post a picture tomorrow of the bracelet with the first charm as I should be hitting my first 10 pounds (8 down as of this morning...8 pounds in 6 days...WOW!!!).

I slept in today and started eating late so my calories were very low (slightly more than 1400 calories for the whole day).  Though I'm full and ate nutritiously, I'm feeling a bit light-headed and have a headache.  Had an energy bar and almond milk with protein powder for breakfast, a Clif bar as an afternoon snack and cooked fajitas and fat free refried beans for dinner.  I need to do much better with eating more calories earlier in the day because almost half of the day's calories (630 calories) came from dinner.  Made some home-made guacamole and used Greek yogurt instead of sour cream...absolutely AMAZING!!!

Normally when I have fajitas, I can probably devour at least four before I'm overstuffed and uncomfortable (not including the chips and salsa/bean dip that they serve at Mexican restaurants).  As I was eating, before I was even halfway done, I wanted to get more because I had only used half of the fajita mix I made. But I forced myself to slow down, TASTE my food, drink water...by the time I finished my plate I was stuffed.  It's unbelievable how many calories I would normally consume without thinking twice.  I am working with being present and enjoying my food...slowing down to savor the taste, texture, consistency.

Still doing well with drinking water...averaging about 10-12 glasses a day (though I'm going to the bathroom nearly as often lol).  Speaking of water...I have a colonic hydrotherapy appointment tomorrow.  I'm so nervous, but I hear that there are tremendous physical, mental and spiritual benefits so I'm excited for the results.

Introductions

"Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet eating her curds and whey...along came a spider who sat down beside her and frightened Miss Muffet away!" Certainly, if this limerick were referring to me, it would say that though I was frightened, I waited until I finished eating to run (well, wobble) away!

Hello, my name is Blessed Love and I am obese! While there are many euphamisms that I use to try to make myself feel better (plump, pudgy, big-boned, fatabulous, Pretty Hot And Tempting, easy to see)...I can't escape the fact that at 28 years old, I am one of the nearly 90 million Americans who falls into the category of Obese. More accurately, my weight would classify me as MORBIDLY OBESE. Breaking the scale at over 370 pounds, I am much closer to death than I am to life...or at least what I consider really living.

This blog will chronicle my journey to find my healthy self...the version of me who doesn't need to turn sideways to enter a turnstyle and whose bra doesn't roll up like a cannoli between my fat rolls. My ultimate weight goal is 170 pounds, a 200 pound loss from my current size.  In other words, I plan to lose a pregnant woman or 14 bowling balls or 8 baby llamas...or $9,080,000 in $100 dollar bills!!!

Combining brutally honest accounts of my life-long struggle with my weight, along with tips that I've learned along the way, I hope that this journal is an inspiration for anyone who has dealt with the same issues.  I will share recipes, pictures, triumphs and shortcomings.

Welcome to Curds 'n' Weigh!

Until next time...
Blessed Love