Day 504: Finish Line... or Mile Marker

About three weeks ago, something happened. Finally, after nine months (almost to the day) and hundreds of hours of hard work and determination, that scale registered a number; a one-derful number.

My weight started with a "one" and I had lost 119 pounds!

This was an amazing event. I couldn't believe it. I was now within 28 pounds of my goal weight... closer than I'd ever dared dream! This was unbelievable!

And three weeks passed...

Now you would think, with such a success, I would be spurred on toward accomplishing the loss of those last twenty-eight pounds. You would think, with my first 70.3-mile half-Ironman race a mere five days away, I would use that momentum to tackle that challenge with confidence. You would think.

But something else happened entirely.

Those three weeks, I just - stopped. I don't know what exactly happened; I just stopped. Stopped dieting, stopped exercising, stopped caring about many things... just stopped.

My first half Ironman is only five days away, and I feel even more depressed. I haven't been doing the workouts according to my plan and I've even gained some weight back. The idea of a 56-mile bike ride frightens me, yet I still can't make myself ride for more than an hour in preparation. I have done a half marathon before, so I know I can at least finish that section, but I can barely bring myself to do even a one-mile run.

Other areas are suffering, too. Dishes and laundry aren't getting done as frequently as they should. Disorder is creeping back into the house and the yard. Grocery shopping seems to have fallen by the wayside, yielding to "picking up something" for dinner each night. And all the other aspects of life just seem so overwhelming.

While "trapped" in this morass of knowing what I should do and not doing it, I realized this happened to me during the past almost-ten months of serious dieting and exercise.

The first two months in the program, I trained incredibly hard and was extreme in following the prescribed diet. I completed my first-ever triathlon, the 18.27-mile Sandman, in Virginia Beach and came apart in the weeks following that victory. I struggled, but still managed to focus and adhere to the program to lose eighty-four pounds in the first thirteen weeks... then I switched classes and classmates.

Again, everything seemed to fall apart. I felt as if I was in limbo, not having lost enough weight to move ahead, but having gone too far to start over. Eventually, I took a month off to regroup and rejoined the program re-energized and re-focused. I worked hard and completed the next big goal: my first half marathon. With that major accomplishment, I still backslid for several weeks.

Then I hit one hundred pounds lost with Tidewater Bariatrics. A couple more pounds, and that scale registered a weight beginning with a "one." It was as if I had attained "normalcy" again; I was a real human being. With the exception of those couple months around my wedding, this was the lowest I'd weighed for most of my 20's - but looked even better! All my clothes fit again; every single piece... even the ones I'd never been able to wear before! I was euphoric.

That euphoria carried me through a couple weeks of eating "normally" and not so normally. Weeks where the scale did not move to the right or the left but stayed fixed on that amazing "one"-derful number! I could feel the warning signs indicating I needed to up the exercise and slow the eating, but I didn't listen.

Now, here I am, "getting ready" for a mammoth race, the length of which I cannot even think upon without feeling sick to my stomach. I don't feel as "lean" or as fit as I did several weeks ago; I don't think it means I won't finish, but I do have concerns. What happened? What happened all those other times? How can I fix this?

Then it hit me.

I keep seeing mile markers as finish lines. I pull to a stop after meeting significant goals as if I had swept triumphantly beneath the finish line. My focus has been so hard and fixed on each of these mile markers (for that is what they are), that I forget I have many miles still to go.

That first triathlon wasn't the end, it was the first mile of a 26.2-mile marathon! Losing one hundred pounds wasn't the end, it was mile nine or ten. Getting below two hundred, while significant, still rates only a twelfth or thirteenth mile. That successful half marathon? Still just past halfway at maybe mile fifteen. This half Ironman, I'm putting a about mile eighteen... I still have so far to go.

None of these achievements are insignificant, but not one of them is a finish line. I still have an actual marathon to run for my thirtieth birthday (the original goal I set last September). I think I would like to do a full Ironman. I still have twenty-eight pounds to get rid of... and, clearly, I still have issues to deal with in the area of eating and life.

I have not arrived and, though I'm just a few miles from the finish line (with respect to weight loss), I have stopped running and am struggling to start again.

I need help.

Over the past five hundred days, I have striven to be honest and open, yet this is the post I have withheld - I think mostly from pride. While it would be nice to have this blog contain only success stories, I hold no monopoly on temptations, challenges, and defeats; others have been here before me.

In every endeavor, there comes a point where it seems impossible to do even one thing more. Yet I know that is where God can step in and mount us up with wings as eagles. I need your prayers at this point... the Ruth Cooper Project (with respect to weight loss) has achieved critical mass and I know, in the ankle-bone of my heart, prayer can launch it to a new level of success, focus, and inspiration both to me and to others who find themselves in similar straits.

Please help me finish strong... be the prayer beneath my wings.

Day 460: Life is a Race... So Run!

It could not have been a more perfect day... weather-wise. Just-right breezes tickled the hotels along Atlantic Boulevard as they made their way through from the ocean. The sun, having risen only a few hours before, was masked by a protective layer of thin, gray clouds; no sunglasses needed for today.

And around me... 8500 people, all doing the same thing... running a race.

Hundreds and hundreds of people. People as far as the eye could see. From 31st Street to 2nd Street, running people. On the Boardwalk, traveling the opposite direction, hundreds and hundreds of running people. Everyone runs differently; some walk, some sprint and rest, some plod on methodically. Some run with determination while others ooze the desire to quit; some run with intense focus and shut out the world around them, others gregariously engage everyone they pass (or who passes them).

I ran with focus and tried to block the idea I still had four more miles to go. Today was the easy race; today was only an 8k. Tomorrow would be the hard one - a half marathon. Jason had long since run ahead and I couldn't see him any more. I was still feeling just a little rushed from our dash to catch our run.

Sometimes, I have to wonder if I'm in the process of creating Cooper's Law. This law would state that no matter how much extra time (n) you have scheduled to be somewhere, something will always happen which takes (n+1) time causing late arrival to be unavoidable.

This morning was no different. Almost insufficient gas to make the drive, remembering forgotten race numbers 20 minutes into a 60-minute trip, the subsequent turn-around to get the numbers, and hard-to-find parking at our destination created one of the more memorable race days heretofore experienced. None of the stress and anxiety was alleviated by hearing the air horn starting the first corral of runners... as we were still trying to park!!

Five floors up to the first-available parking spot, five floors down the stairs to the street level, and one massive surge of adrenaline as we heard the announcer set off the final corral of runners. For the first time, we had to actually run to catch our race! Nothing like good adrenal stimulation to get your blood flowing.

Now, safely "in" the race, I passed the second mile marker and made the turn onto the Boardwalk at 2nd Street. It was then I suddenly realized "something wonderful." Today, exactly six months (and 45 pounds) ago, I was running the final portion of my very first athletic event, the Sandman Triathlon (ironically, the last post on this blog as well).

My mind began to spin as I realized the massive distance (ha ha) I'd covered since that debut to the racing world. In those six months, I'd lost an additional 45 pounds, met my lose-100-pounds-in-one-year goal, run my first complete mile and 5k (no walking!), and run a total of ten races: one one-miler, three 5k, two 10k, one 14k, one 15k, one 10-miler, and one 20k.

Today, I was running my eleventh race and tomorrow, I would bump my "running roof" and undertake my longest run yet... a half marathon. Even as I experience these events, it is difficult to realize the actuality of what is happening and what I have done. It's surreal; like none of this really happened.

The aching in my muscles and hips and the gentle cramping sensations in my legs told me this really was happening, I was running my best race ever and wouldn't be too much longer before the finish line loomed before me.

As I rounded the last corner, I could see the huge, inflated finish line about a half-mile away. Time to dig deep. I've always wondered where that last burst of energy comes from and, for me, my constant temptation is to stop running when I can see the finish line, especially that last quarter to tenth of a mile.

And then I remember so many Bible verses and see the faces off the spectators lining the finish chute and the faces of those around me, surging for that final goal. People are watching, cameras are clicking, announcers are waiting... the competitive inside me will not let me stop. Flashes of memories about not fainting the day of adversity, finishing the race set before me, mounting up with wings as eagles, running and not wearying, running patiently.

And then it comes... I can feel it deep (sometimes very deep) inside. My head pulls back from the base and my shoulders drop, square and forward; eyes locked immovably on a point five feet behind the finish line. I feel the energy shift inside as strides become faster and longer, breathing becomes deep and explosive and all aching and pain gets pushed to the background. This is it. This is the finish.

I am aware of those I pass in those last 50-100 feet. Some put in a last burst. Some slow down 20 feet before the finish line. Some start running and stop short of crossing the line, walking instead. Some just walk with no change. I hear the crowds; I hear that swell which comes from excitement and encouragement for one who pushes and finishes strong. I feel the inner urge to let up; to relax, to take a minute. It's almost like being in a glass tunnel; everything muted, misty, and vague - so strong is the focus on that hard finish.

One more stride. One timing clock beep. One last click of the camera. One more smile of victory.

And then I realize... this is how life should be lived.

Day 249: Buttering Up

"How many sticks of butter have you lost?"

This was the question that greeted me this afternoon on my Facebook page (and that picture IS of fifty pounds of butter). The basic starting premise is that 0.2 pounds of body weight lost is equivalent to getting rid of a stick of butter. That idea seemed interesting... a stick of butter didn't seem that much, until I started adding it all up!

In the past six weeks, I've lost 37 pounds. Going on the idea that 0.2 pounds lost equals one stick of butter, this would mean that every 0.8 pounds lost would be a pound - that's one package as seen in a supermarket near you. I usually go to CostCo which would mean every 3.2 pounds I lose would equate to the four-pound bundle I would frequently purchase (I think I was buying one a month).

End result. I have lost 46.25 pounds of butter. That would be 46 normal packages of butter (plus one stick) or, for the CostCo and Sam's enthusiasts, 11.5 of their four-pound bundles! Yuck! I have this vision of a shopping cart FILLED with butter packs. Look at the top of the page... that's 50 pounds... I'm almost there! Don't get me wrong, I do like butter... but that much is just sick!

Visualization is such a powerful tool when dealing with all sorts of life situations... in particular, what you are putting into your body when you eat. The method of using pictures and comparisons to drill the message home is becoming more and more popular in the weight-loss community as dietitians and doctors use more and more hands-on, in-your-face, blunt comparisons.

Sometimes it comes in book form with lots of pictures showing better choices (Eat This; Not That), sometimes it is the placing of a 25-pound weight on your lap (graphically showing how much weight you've lost), sometimes it is by comparison (that Dairy Queen Caramel MooLatte has the sugar equivalent of twelve Dunkin' Donuts Bavarian Creme Doughnuts).

I know I, for one, never really thought about (or cared) what equivalents I might be eating and I have found visual comparison to be extremely powerful.

Although what I call negative comparison (i.e., this bad food is equivalent to this bad food) is entertaining and has a certain element of shock value, I think I more prefer to go the route of positive comparisons. With these negative comparisons, I find that even if I haven't had the slightest thought of drinking a Starbucks Caramel Frappuccino (not true), seeing a picture of it standing in frosty resplendence next to a glistening stack of its sugar equivalent in freshly-baked Krispy Kreme Original Glazed Doughnuts would not cause me to avoid either of these tasty treats. In fact, my response is quite the opposite: I want to drink the frappuccino (just the tall size...) and THEN go get those tantalizing equivalents (only one or two... I mean, it's not like I'm going to eat the whole box... today...).

What works so much better for me is seeing and understanding what I CAN have. I would rather see the tiny little sugar-free, fat-free, nine-ounce, 720-calorie muffin standing starkly to the left side of an equal sign and see on the right side a 720-calorie spread consisting of a pineapple, half a cantaloupe, half a kiwi fruit, half a papaya, five ounces of grapes, two pears, and two whole wheat rolls! The focus with this description is changing what you choose and getting more for that choice; a swap for the better. So much more powerful than the taunting pictorial comparisons of yummy evil.

Even better is this thought for the day: it is far better to focus on what can be then what cannot be. I have found that to choose to think about - with respect to dieting - what I CAN eat and the creativity which I must bring to bear within those dietary parameters. In day-to-day living, thinking about what I DO have - beautiful family, loving and supportive husband, air condition, running water - instead of things I wish I had makes for such greater contentment and peace within me.

Contentment has been one of my life's greatest challenges and it required God to do some truly out-of-the-box maneuvers to get me to the level of contentment I am today (which is WAAAY more then I ever was). I am no where near perfect, but simple reminders keep me thinking about what I DO have and not on what I WISH I had. Big difference.

Count those blessings! I know I feel better for doing that... positive is in and it's great!

Photos courtesy of cleanliv.in, rawfoodlivingdiet.com, and pictureperfectweightloss.com

Day 235: The Axiom of Choice

Through the still quiet of the pre-dawn darkness came the ultimate sound of irritation: the incessant beeping of the alarm clock. What a nasty way to be awoken from the deepest of sleep and what dark ruminations exist toward the inventor of such a fiendish creation. Emerging from a sleepy fog, the call of the gym and the workout becomes more clear and with it a dilemma... or is it a choice?

I'm sure all of us at one time or another have experienced the [insert emotion here] of being awoken by an alarm clock, and I have to wonder how many people (except for those few perfect ones) have a love-hate relationship with that bit of electronics. I've been grateful for the alarm. I've been angry. I've been disappointed. I've been discouraged. I've even been delighted to hear that garish beep.

So let's face it. Could it be that the issue lies not with the alarm itself, but with each of us as individuals? Could it be that our response to that call to awaken arises, not from that lowly item, but from a plethora of emotions and thoughts which occur, sometimes, even before we go to sleep.

I find it ironic that I had planned most of the week to write on this particular topic.

Ironic because I had set my alarm for five this morning, giving me enough time to awaken, dress, and get to the gym by half past. This was important because Jason needed to leave the house at eight after seven, giving me 1.5 hours at the gym. This meant I would be able to just barely do my cycling and swimming for the day, but not the weights. I would have to be very punctual and have minimum transition times to accomplish this.

Well... the alarm went off at five. I snoozed it for ten, knowing I still had plenty of time. Saw the clock read twenty past and then I did it; I rolled over and re-enveloped myself in the warm and inviting down comforter and soft, fuzzy pillow. Yes, I got some more sleep (which I did actually need), but there were consequences.

I am now behind a full day of my training schedule and will have to make it up. Usually this means my Saturday - which I have allocated as my Rest Day - becomes a normal workout day because I took Friday off. ::sigh:: Not only that, but I miss out on the benefits of working out in the morning (perhaps I shall speak on those in a later post).

What happened? I lost focus of WHY the alarm was set in the first place. I needed to get up with the alarm because I'm working on losing weight. To lose weight, I'm following a training schedule which will culminate in a triathlon. To follow that training schedule for today, I needed to be up by five. Kinda sounds like the kingdom being lost for want of a nail, yes? Today, I was only thinking of the self-centered, emotion-of-the-moment reason for turning the alarm clock off and staying in bed.

How often does this happen in our lives? Where have we switched our focus from the longer-vision WHY we are doing to the more instant gratification and emotions of the moment? This perspective on life and our actions in that life applies to so many areas. WHY can't you have that slice of cake? WHY can't you buy that cute pair of shoes? WHY are you forbidding your child to whine?

These questions, when taken alone, seem depriving and depressing. It is only when the big picture is added back in and the WHY is answered that things make sense and lose that seemingly depriving state. I can't have that slice of cake because I am choosing to regain my pre-wedding weight. I can't buy that cute pair of shoes because I want to be debt-free. I am forbidding my child to whine because in life, whining is not the correct way to deal with disappointment or frustration.

As I thought last night about what I would share with you today, I had determined I would share with you my own personal success in this area: the area of focusing and acting on your WHY. ::tiny trumpet sounds in the background:: Instead, after this morning, I realized I only had a failure to share...

The old me would have drowned this failure in a blueberry biscuit or two from Hardee's, would have reveled in depression and posted a dismal Facebook status update, and most likely would have "boosted" my crushed spirits and faltering morale with a "comforting" full-spread Outback steak dinner.

That, however and thank God, is not me any more.

True, I did not meet the goal I set for myself this morning. Is that a reason for abject depression and abandonment of my exercise and weight-loss goals? Absolutely not. Instead, I admit I made a mistake and now I will move forward to have a productive, positive day with resolve to improve on tomorrow's performance.

All of life is a choice. Every single event you face, you have a choice. You are never the victim. I find it more and more like my mom used to tell me, "It doesn't matter what anyone else does, it only matters what you do." I have taken that little saying and have applied it to my own standard of living: I cannot control what others do to or around me, but I certainly can control how I respond in ANY given situation.

This week, I challenge you. I want you to choose and control your responses to the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune... [the] sea of troubles... the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to." Remember (or, in some cases, discover) your WHYs and reform your thoughts and responses to the minutia of life. It's your life; chose to live it well.

Day 225: Does Your Life Have a Soundtrack?

Hey, did you know 225 is the square of 15?

Okay, so maybe that would be more appropriate for a math-oriented blog... this is clearly a health and fitness blog right? On the surface, that is true. Below the surface, there lurks the beautiful world of numbers and math.

Those of you who know me will most likely remember that I LOVE math and numbers. But before anyone's eyes turn glassy and roll up behind your eyelids, just relax. I'm not going to descend into the realm of heavy math. Smile. Breathe deeply. Relax.

Saturday, 24 July 2010 marked the supposed endpoint of the Ruth Cooper Project.

I started this blog in December of 2009 when one of my best friends invited me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding. I've always wanted to be a bridesmaid and if I had been a bridesmaid in as many weddings of friends that I've attended over the years, I could easily have starred in the movie 27 Dresses myself!

While this news thrilled me, a simultaneous explosion of terror ran through me: I would have to wear a formal dress! To most people, this would not be a big deal. To me, having just given birth to my second son a month before and still carrying the 115 extra pounds from Son Number One, this was bad news. My standard wardrobe at the time consisted of faded maternity t-shirts and two pairs of maternity pants - one velvet, the other stretch.

Something had to change, and fast, if I wanted to be stunning at my friends wedding.

I figured if I applied myself, I could get very close to my goal weight by the time of the wedding... and yet, as the Chronicles of Ruth show, I never managed to keep my focus on the dieting or exercising to the extent needed. Yes, I lost 30 pounds using various techniques. Yes, I started working out more. Yes, I was feeling and moving better then I had been.

The truly shameful thing is this: during my several months of silence on this blog, I gained back every pound. That's right... every single pound. The embarrassment I felt at stepping on the new analog scale and watching the needle sail effortlessly by the "maximum" weight tick mark was so incredibly depressing and more often than not, sent me in search of something comforting - at that time: Outback steak, sweet potatoes, bread and butter, and mango tea.

Wouldn't you know, though? During that two or three months, this blog and the responsibility I felt to all of you who have worked so hard to support and encourage me in emotional and financial ways (I still haven't forgotten one of you paid for six months at the YMCA) forced me to get back on track.

I am back on track.

Today, I realized more than ever that I have made some serious life-style changes. Not only in the mind realm, but also in the physical realm. Although I was no where near the weight I had hoped to be at my friend's wedding, I had already taken drastic steps to ensure I would one day experience that goal. Since my enrollment in the Tidewater Bariatrics program on 11 July 2010, I have already seen 21 pounds of weight melt off and over 12 inches of girth disappear.

Did that weight really melt off and did those inches really disappear?

No.

There is a great deal of purposeful dedication and many conscious choices behind these successes.

Success stories aren't fuzzy and rarely are they glamorous. Sure, there are the few that are stunning and breathtaking. They are the ones that make you envision your path to your goal as one of those overly-inspiring, chest-puffing, back-straightening, emotion-swelling, inspirational-soundtrack video montages on all those overly-inspiring, chest-puffing, back-straightening, emotion-swelling, inspirational-soundtrack epic films out there.

I mean, seriously... who isn't with Rocky as he trains for his comeback? Who isn't with Braveheart as he travels the countryside rallying men to his cause? Who can resist wanting to join Cuba Gooding, Jr. as he sweats through his military and diver training? Who among the math geeks and nerds can fail to be inspired to solve the unsolvable with John Nash (especially with that soundtrack!!)? Finally, who can hold back a tear or still their heart rate as the 1924 Olympic team experiences the result of thousands of hours of pain, tears, and sweat?

If the hard parts of life could happen in an inspiring montage, complete with swelling soundtrack, I'd be a sleek, muscular, lithe athlete. [Standing in front of a mirror, I have to chuckle at this]. The point I'm trying to make is this: we are not in a finished film production. There is no montage yet. The soundtrack hasn't been written and there are no glamorizing filters. Right now, we are in the very middle of making our montage possible.

I believe there cannot be great things without great investment.

So when you're feeling discouraged, think about your favorite "success movie training montage" and then think just a little bit more about the sheer amount of dedication, ups, downs, triumphs, failures, excitements, disappointments, laughter, tears, joys, and depressions that made up that character's success montage.

Success doesn't just happen; you have to want it.

[In case you were wondering, the films I referenced above were, in order: Rocky Balboa, Braveheart, Men of Honor, A Beautiful Mind, and Chariots of Fire.]

Day 217: Go Waste, Young Man... Go Waist

I heard a story - and maybe you have, too - about a man who had worked for many years for a construction company. He worked selflessly and hard, but eventually he had had enough and went to his boss. After explaining that he was ready to retire, his boss requested that he do one last favor for him and build one final house.

Reluctantly, this man begrudgingly built the final house; cutting corners and doing shoddy work. The house was finished quickly... perhaps too quickly... and the man's boss came for a final inspection. At the conclusion of the inspection, the man left the house with his boss who took a folded piece of paper and handed it to him. His boss mentioned how much he had appreciated his work over the years and to please accept this gift in gratitude for all his hard work and diligence.

As the boss walked away, he left a stunned man looking down at a set of brand new house keys.

Now think about the human race. We stroll blithely through our lives in the most amazing and complicated collection of mechanics and systems ever created; so balanced and so fragile, yet so absurdly resilient and diverse - the human body. We have been given such a gift in the form of the human body and yet we think nothing of it and treat it with such disrespect.

What about this idea... you are building and shaping the house you live in. Now think... what kind of job are you doing?

Last week, I made a huge and significant commitment to losing the rest of my excess weight; I joined Tidewater Bariatrics' Decision Free diet plan. Tidewater Bariatrics is a weight-loss clinic providing rapid weight-loss programs with medical supervision and high levels of accountability and support - they even supply the food you eat.

I went through medical and psych evaluations, talked with the doctor and nurses, and had lots of labs and medical panels drawn. Needless to say, I was absolutely fascinated by the entire process. I love numbers and data and medical stuff; this was right up my alley. Results of the labs reported I was in good health, with all numbers (except for my weight) being good. I did have a Vitamin D deficiency (a 14 when 35 is normal). Apparently, many overweight people going for gastric bypass surgery suffer from a Vitamin D deficiency and I have to wonder if their obesity is linked to the depression and low energy that surfaces as a symptom of Vitamin D deficiency. Feeling low? Might want to get that checked.

Anyway.

Yesterday I completed my first week of official dieting and have decided I love this program. There is so much accountability and so many ways to share your successes and progress that I find myself quite motivated, not only to participate, but also to lose weight and remain compliant with the program.

Every week, we have a two-hour class to educate us on various areas of weight loss... both physical and mental aspects. Honestly, I was arrogant enough to think that I already knew what we were going to talk about this past evening. I have a lot of curiosity and some training in the medical arena and I assumed that since the group leader had said we were going to talk about proper choices in eating that I already had a firm handle on what she was going to say.

I was not prepared for the depth of insights I gained while in class that night!

During the course of the evening, the topic of discussion turned toward fantasizing and dreaming about food. As a patient of Tidewater Bariatrics, you have a limited amount and variety of food from which to choose and the temptation to imagine what you will eat when off the diet is strong, as is desiring food that you may not have if you wish to be compliant.

I giggle here because every time I hear (or read) the word "compliant," I have a visual of being strapped into a cyborg suit and regeneration chamber or of tottering mechanically through a green-hued, smokey atmosphere while hearing a multi-layered mechanical voice proclaim, "We are the collective; you will comply."

But I digress...

What struck me so strongly was the propensity for people to dwell on food in their minds. So... they're not eating it anymore, but what are they still doing? Dreaming and fantasizing and desiring. Wait. What is wrong with that? Could it be that food is taking the place of things we should be dreaming about? of goals that we could be achieving? of relationships with family and friends we should be nurturing?

How many times have you heard someone say they "love" a particular food item or that a certain toothsome pastry "made their day"? What about the whole "I'd kill for a donut and coffee right now" mentality? Or "I was dreaming about eating this chocolate cake allllll day today." Can you see how this is just a little bit wrong?

Here's a more frightening thought. Is this the group of people Paul was talking about in Philippians? Those who were "the enemies of the cross of Christ: whose end is destruction, whose God is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things."? Perhaps what alarms me the most is: Am I one of those people?

So save your daydreams and fantasies for actual people and goals. Food won't love you back. You cannot have a normal, human-style relationship with comestibles. Stuff you eat should never be a life goal. Also, if you are plugging in relational gaps between you and your loved ones - spouse, children, relatives, friends - with food, you are not fixing anything or solving root issues. What is worse, it's like painting over mildew so everything will "look" beautiful.

We are each building the house we live in.

What kind of house are you building?

Day 210: An End unto a Beginning

What is it about control?

I didn't realize I had control issues until the past week. Actually, I rather suspected I had some control issues, but never pinned a label on myself and accepted the title of "Control Freak." In so many areas, I have worked hard to yield my desire to dominate and control to my husband, my employers, etc. and have succeeded in many ways... save one.

Food.

This past week, I have taken an extreme plunge into weight loss and have made some serious commitments and life changes (which I will detail later), but that is not what I want to focus on first. I want to explore the lies we (me specifically) tell ourselves about food and our relationship with it.

Last week, I underwent a full panel of medical tests and behavioral analysis in preparation for my next step in the Ruth Cooper Project. Everything seemed to be going well and, being a huge fan of The Biggest Loser, I kept flashing to the many contestants I'd seen as they underwent the same type of testing and evaluation I was undergoing and wondering why it was that so many of them ended up in tears as they spoke of the life circumstances that led them to gain as much as they had.

As the testing drew to a close, I began to congratulate myself on having had no emotional breakdown. All answers were given clearly, succinctly; my personal medical knowledge made it easier for the nurses and doctors to explain issues to me; no tests returned unexpected results - everything was wonderful.

And then I sat down with the primary doctor to go over my file and tests. Very matter-of-factly, she asked brief questions about my relationship with food. Some questions I picked out immediately as being psych profiling and in other questions, I recognized information I'd previously supplied coming back at me in odd ways. None of this caught me off guard or surprised me until she asked me a couple of questions.

The first question had to do with self-esteem and did I eat to make myself feel better or use food to reward my actions. I had to answer yes. Was anyone expressing dissatisfaction with my weight? No. All my self-loathing in this area came directly from me - no one, family member or friend, had ever mentioned how heavy I was. Shocked, I watched her type the term "self abuse" into her notes. Was that true? Was I really abusing myself? I had never before thought of what I was doing in "clinical" terms.

The questions continued and I could feel a bit of emotional shock. Did I eat differently when alone? Yes. I had recently started eating "normally" around other people (including Jason) and eating out-of-control when no one was watching. Did I hide food? At this, my brain felt as if it had stopped working. I'd never really thought of it as hiding food. A donut eaten before arriving at home. A candy bar placed under my desk so Jason wouldn't find it. A piece of chocolate cake smuggled home and never mentioned. Granted, this was a recent occurrence, but that shouldn't be happening at all!

The doctor continued typing and I could feel remorse welling up inside me, thinking about the poor eating decisions I had made over the past two years. A pause in the typing and she turned to me, mentioning that even though I had a dislike of medications and had eschewed them for my whole life, I was still self medicating. I nodded and responded that I had been doing it with food. Perhaps she was looking for a bit of denial because she pressed in and likened the overeating with "food-crack". Again, I agreed quickly, stating that I could see how that would be an appropriate analogy. My guess is that many patients there are still in denial about how they use food and why they overeat... I'd spent too much time thinking about how I got here... and the doctor said that was a good thing.

I have used food because I wanted to be in control; food was the ONE thing in my life I COULD control and I abused that power over and over.

I got married and suddenly, there was no check or accountability on what I could eat or have in the house - after all, I was the one making dinner and shopping for groceries. This weak start in the self-control department only spiraled as God shaped my life (and as I fought against it by eating).

With so many major life changes over the past three years - engagement, wedding planning, honeymoon, marriage, one child, house purchase and move, second child (and, yes, all this has happened in the past three years) - my self-absorbed response to all these changes I could not (keyword here) CONTROL, was to alter the thing I could control and that was my eating.

I controlled it, all right... I controlled to the point where I now weigh 120 pounds more than I did the day I got married two-and-a-half years ago!

Again, I truly didn't realize just how bad I've been until Jason asked me the other day to throw out or give away ALL foods in the house that would not be permitted on our new diet (and that Peter and Mikey won't eat). I fought his request strongly, even with tears. Then God graciously revealed the truth of this conflict: my desire to keep food in the house was because I still wanted to keep some control over my food. At that dawning of truth, I broke and realized I was a control freak and at the very heart of every matter was a refusal to yield either to God or my husband. As long as I had food to control, I would fairly easily comply with requests and directives... and pride myself on being "flexible."

Since last Thursday, when all this began, mine has been a life turned up-side-down. But then again, isn't that when God is able to move in interesting and wonderful ways.

Now, the food is gone and I am, perhaps for the first time in my life, ready to seek new methods for coping with life's stresses.

Day 79: Better Late Than Never

Days remaining: 144
Pounds remaining: 140.5
Inches lost/gained this past week: +0.25
Pounds lost/gained this past week: -1.00
Percentage weight loss this past week: -0.34%

Total pounds lost: -12.5
Total inches lost: -15.25

Well... this posting is waay later than I was hoping to post it, but I felt it was important to put up the results from the last week.

Progress is so slow and I'm thinking of shaking things up a little. It seems when the weight goes down, the inches go up and when the inches go down, the weight goes up. Granted, when there is a gain of around 0.25 inches, usually that means there has been a significant loss at a couple of measuring points.

I have discovered Zumba... a Latin dance workout that makes you work harder than seems humanly possible while twisting, kicking, jumping, and moving your feet and hands to a beat that makes time fly. Oh, and did I mention you can burn up to 1000 calories per hour!! That is unheard of!

Friday, I attended two Zumba classes back to back! Oh. My. Goodness. I barely made it to the end of the second class and was completely wiped the next day. And the next. The experience, however, was so (I hate to use the word) empowering. I felt energetic even though I couldn't think about moving around any more and had a neat sense of accomplishment.

Zumba feels like dancing - as it should - and, though the mirror tells me otherwise, I feel like I'm the most graceful and powerful dancer around. So far, so good.

Day 74: Monolith Syndrome

And the results for this week's comparison are in:

Days remaining: 149
Pounds remaining: 141.5
Inches lost/gained this past week: 0.0
Pounds lost/gained this past week: -3.5
Percentage weight loss this past week: -1.19%

Total pounds lost: -11.5
Total inches lost: -15.5

I realized an interesting fact today. For a while, I have suspected that I have been suffering from Monolith Syndrome and today it was completely confirmed.

This evening, I stepped SO far out of my comfort zone and joined a Zumba class at the YMCA! I have been avoiding any class exercising for months now because I have been so afraid that I will be the only one in class who can't keep up or who will look like a total idiot.

Now an observation... for overweight individuals, the current exercise dress code seems to be an expression of either the Monolith Syndrome or the Popped Biscuit Can look. The Monolith wears extremely baggy and long clothing that obscures every single lump... or so that individual believes. The horrible truth lies buried in the comfort baggy clothes provide; deceptive comfort. It's so easy to feel slim and muscular beneath a t-shirt two or three sizes too large... mirrors have a nasty way of popping that bubble.

The Popped Biscuit Can look involves wearing "normal" workout clothing that would be fine for a normal-weighted individual. Regrettably, these people seem to pay no heed to the rolls of extra that slip out from under the sports top or the puffiness that spills over the top of those "cute," skintight exercise pants.

Which style am I? I wish I could say Yuppie Slim, but when I entered the Zumba session, my sight was assaulted by what appeared to be a single, black monolith. There were mirrors everywhere, surrounding the room with multiple reflections of that impressive sight; even the largest person in the room was half my size! My monolith wasn't some point of personal evolution as I wrote in a previous blog post - I WAS the monolith!

I suppose this would normally have daunted me, but I really wanted to participate in the Zumba and focused on the instructor while attempting to coerce my overtly-Caucasian body into swaying gracefully with the Latin rhythms. At various points, I would feel as if my form was extremely good and I was really getting the steps... then I would glance back at my reflection and would see the most absurd sight I have ever seen. Plump white arms protruding from rolled-up black sleeves and swaying hips that were barely seen beneath the drapery of the way-large black t-shirt.

Now, I've always enjoyed seeing the pure joy some large people exude when dancing all out; as if they completely forget how large they are and who is watching - they simply have fun. So this was the path I chose to take. And I had fun. I tripped and stumbled, missed the beat and alternately forgot to add arms to my steps (and vice versa)... all the while wondering who that goofy person in the mirror could possibly be imitating.

The shock would set in every once in a while.

As I walked away, I realized that although I was so absurd in my performance, I had such a strong desire to master the Zumba steps and moves. I will be back and I look forward to winning the approval of the instructor and the other rhythmic/experienced participants with my masterful display of awesomeness... I hope. Besides, I can't complain about an hour-long session that burns up to 1000 calories and which flies by so quickly, I don't notice how long I've been exercising!

I also realized I should get different clothing for working out. I'm very comfortable in my HUGE black 3x t-shirt and I feel smaller inside, but the mirrors surrounding every room in the Y keep broadcasting an extremely uncomfortable picture back to me... something I can change now.

Now, to find the balance between evidencing the Monolith Syndrome and resembling a Popped Biscuit Can.

Day 65: This Isn't Fun Any More

::Sigh:: Now that my accounts have been restored from the lovely hack job done on them this past week, it seems there are no more excuses to prevent me from posting something I completely did not want to post... at all.

Days remaining: 158
Pounds remaining: 145
Inches lost/gained: +0.25
Pounds lost/gained: +2.5
Percentage weight lost: +1.01%

In looking at the inches lost, my top half gained, but the lower half lost big time - which is kind of the whole point I'm trying to achieve here. An additional bonus is that five of my twelve measuring points are holding rock steady... and most likely will until the next large weight drop.

All of this is very statistical and fulfills my self-imposed requirements... and serves to try to skirt around the point that I've been trying to avoid talking about or posting for a while now: the past two weeks have been terrible from a dietary and exercise standpoint.

It's one thing to build a higher-calorie day into your diet, but another thing entirely to overdo it for the whole weekend. It's one thing to have a couple more bites of something at one meal and another thing to blow an entire meal later in the day.

Shortest way to say it - the week before last was a slippery slope. I saw the signs and decided to ignore them; primarily because it was more convenient to eat whatever and whenever I wanted to. Last week was full-scale plummeting with no attempt at keeping to a diet or getting to the gym.

Why? I suppose part of it was I was tired of counting calories, of early-morning jaunts to the gym, of trying to rearrange food choices to be more attractive or filling, of passing on desserts and sodas. It simply was too easy to do nothing.

Granted, there was a bright side to all this sliding. Even on the highest-calorie days, Jason and I would split the Subway foot-long or the Wendy's frosty or the WaWa turkey bowl instead of eating a whole portion each. Each time I went to Starbucks, I would chose a Tall instead of Venti drink and, on occasion, pass on the whipped cream.

So, I suppose progress is being made... slowly. But it's too slow and I desperately need to pick up the pace if I'm to make it anywhere near my goal. I have a phrase I use when a once-attractive pursuit becomes odious and onerous - "This isn't fun any more."

I have certainly hit the "this isn't fun any more" point in this project and, quite frankly, knowing how I normally operate, I'm surprised it's taken this long to get here. The distance I have to still go is discouraging and somewhat depressing. I promised honesty and here it is. Not pretty, somewhat embarrassing... but true.

At this point, I am working through my "feelings" by praying and trying to get to the bottom of why this kind of slippage is happening. I am back on the diet and have gone to the gym twice this week already. I really don't want to quit and don't intend to... I simply need to re-energize and re-commit.

Day 59: Surprised by the Inch

Well... this past week had an interesting surprise! Take a look:

Days remaining: 162
Pounds remaining: 142.5
Inches lost/gained: -4.0
Pounds lost/gained: +1.5
Percentage weight lost: +0.99%

Basically, I wasn't able to exercise last week because I became fairly ill on Monday and Tuesday, leading me to make the call and not exercise the rest of the week. It seemed my body was telling me I was doing just a bit too much.

With the gain of 1.5 pounds, I was initially discouraged... that is, until I compared my body measurements with last week's results. Another four inches has fallen away from my frame and I could not be happier (even though I'm still trying to reconcile the fact that inches lost even though pounds are gained is a good thing).

This week, I seem to be struggling more with diet choices and exercise regimen... I sense a re-dedication of effort on the horizon for me!

Week Nine: Encouragement Is Like a CheeseLovers Pan Pizza

The outfit was perfect... and would never have been able to be worn several months ago. Actually, several months ago, she never would have even dreamed of wearing anything like it.

The black fine-knit sweater clung closely to her form, its intricately woven black-beaded collar surreptitiously catching the overhead lights, adding flicker and half-hidden sparkle. The floor-length black skirt swayed confidently with each movement, framing and enhancing.

This was good; this was a wonderful state of being. She felt beautiful... no... she felt elegantly gorgeous!

Be honest. How many of us would love to feel that way again (if we ever felt that way before)?!

I know I certainly would. I would give almost anything... preferably many pounds of fat... to feel like that again. To have perfectly fitting clothing. To not have to persistently tug on shirt or skirt to ensure correct positioning. To not have to restrict one's movement so as not to disarray the carefully placed clothing. To not have to think one single stray thought about whether stance and gait enhanced or detracted from actual weight perceptions.

That picture above was taken three years ago on 3 February. It was at my brother's wedding and I had recently returned home from a three-month stay in Mexico. Having dropped a few pounds while there, I was enjoying the delights of being able to wear whatever I wanted and not have to worry about whether or not unsightly bumps were adequately covered.

I was free to move, to dance, to stand, to sit, to bend, and to sway as I saw fit. This may not seem like a great deal to many of you, but for those who live in a constant personal hell of trying to disguise shameful fat, this freedom bestows an incredible sense of elation. No tugging. No pulling. No worries.

This picture jumped out at me as I clicked my way through various folders and files recently moved to my brand new laptop. For a moment, I did not recognize the face that stared back at me. Slowly, and with a degree of shock, I realized the picture of the woman in front of me was actually... me!

Initially, a flood of discouragement slammed me in the gut as I acknowledged I no longer looked ANYTHING like the picture. Fighting for supremacy, my better-days-lie-ahead self put forth the notion, "True. But that is what you're working toward. You WILL make it there... and then some!"

Encouragement is a beautiful thing and for me, as I struggle and pray through a "hump" part of this diet, I see before me what my end goal is. Sure, I have hanging in the bathroom a goal dress. Sure, in my mind's eye, I can imagine the svelte-ness I shall one day be. And yes, I do look in the mirror every day, searching for diminished circumferences upon my frame.

More tangible than all these goals and hopes is the picture I share with you today and this little piece of advice. Never hesitate to encourage each other, for uplifting words provide the wings on which we soar above our difficulties. Don't over think about what the other person might think about or say to you; just act.

Your support of me and your encouraging words have given me the strength to persevere and stick it out one more week. Yes, it is through Christ that I do all this, but I believe that He has given you to me as an encouragement and as a source of accountability. I do not wish to let you down, all you who are cheering me on from afar. At this moment, my carb-hungry brain likens an uplifting comment from a reader to a sip of ice cold Pepsi after a bite of deep-fried Pizza Hut pan pizza (with extra cheese)!

See. You just never know what seemingly-insignificant word(s) of encouragement will do to strengthen a fellow traveler along the way!

...I think I smell a slice of CheeseLovers pizza!

Day 51: Looking Back with No Regrets

Yea! I'm back!

I haven't been neglecting this blog on purpose, but a couple of issues came up which demanded my full attention - I've been sick the past couple days (thus the lack of my normal Monday post), a certain son has required extra attention (requiring me to be away from the computer more and leaving me more exhausted at the end of the day), and it's tax season (as a bookkeeper, I had a lot of work to do).

But enough of that! Here are my stats from the end of Week Seven:

Days remaining: 172
Pounds remaining: 141.0
Inches lost/gained: -2.0
Pounds lost/gained: -3.5
Percentage weight lost: 1.19%

As you can see, things have picked up a little bit since last week's slow-down and I thought it would be interesting to look some bits of information and morsels of progress from the Ruth Cooper Project. Most of this has happened in the past 24 days... something interesting to keep in mind.

-I have been following the Flat Belly Diet (with the inclusion of one planned-indulgence day per week) for 24 days. The cover of the book proclaims it is possible to lose up to (emphasis on the "up to") 15 pounds in 32 days (!!). Being slightly skeptical of this claim, I have put them to the test... with eight days remaining in the advertised 32 days, I have already lost 12 pounds! We'll see how the next eight days do.

-Inches lost has been an encouraging area. From measurements taken in twelve different areas, I have lost a combined total of 11.75 inches from the first week. Of that number, 66% has happened since going on the Flat Belly Diet. All but three areas (arm, torso, and knee) lost between 0.25 and 2.0 inches, with an average of 0.94 inches lost in each area... all in 24 days!!

-My short-term January goal was to be able to wear my wedding and engagement rings on the proper finger by the end of the month. Although January has ended, my rings still do not sit at the base of my left hand's fourth finger. A bit disappointing? Yes. What is encouraging, however, is that the rings are actually being daily worn on that finger and they do currently fit BELOW the first knuckle (something I could not do initially). My current guess is that it will take losing another ten pounds before the rings will fit at the base of the finger.

-Exercising at the YMCA has become almost a habit... I was right on the cusp when I fell ill on Sunday night. With a goal of working out five days a week, I started with an average of two to four days each week. When I started, I would do my weight training at the level I had left when I stopped going - around 23,000 pounds lifted per session. In the cardio department, it was all I could do to walk for 30 minutes on the treadmill and usually at a speed of 2.5 or 3 mph.

Last week, I worked out all five days (praise God!), my weight training session has been upped to just almost 31,000 pounds lifted per session, and my cardio now includes three 45-minute treadmill jaunts at 3.0-3.5 mph and two fat-blasting 35-minute walks at 3.0-4.0 mph! I wasn't feeling super challenged at the end of last week, so everything will be upped yet again. Again, these stats are for the last 24 days.

Progress is being made and if I hadn't been keeping records, I'd probably be more disappointed in my progress. I didn't realize how much had happened in the last 24 days and had been feeling as if everything was going too slow. Now I realize, it hasn't been all that bad... even though it IS slower then I'd like things to go.

So... now you're updated and I have returned, once again, to blog of my adventures in the Ruth Cooper Project.

Thank you for reading! Your comments do much to cheer me on!

Day 44: The Bane of Week Two

Well, today was more discouraging than I was hoping it would be. Here are some stats to make my point:

Days remaining: 179
Pounds remaining: 144.5
Inches lost/gained: -1.25
Pounds lost/gained: -1.00
Percentage weight lost: 0.33%

I guess the dread of Week Two is legitimate. In theory, according to Bob and Jillian of the Biggest Loser, contestants lose the least weight - some even gain weight - during the second week of the contest, no matter how hard or how faithfully they dieted.

All this past week, I was watching the scale as I weighed in almost every morning. I watched as the pounds dropped away at a rate of almost one pound per day. I was SO excited! Something I had thought would be fun to do would be to compare my percentage of weight lost to the percentage of weight lost by the Biggest Loser contestants each week.

In order to stay above that yellow line of elimination this weigh-in, I would have had to have lost 4.5 pounds. To be the top scorer, I would have had to lose 7.5 pounds. Watching that scale, I felt for certain I would weigh in above the yellow line. Four pounds had dropped and I just needed that extra half pound... very doable in the two days I had remaining.

Imagine my horror when I stepped on the scale the next morning to realize I had gained 6.5 pounds!!! Now, I had gone to bed fairly late which caused some serious water retention, so I decided to get extra sleep the next night and drink lots of water during the day.

This morning, I awoke still with water retention, but at least the scale showed I had dropped a pound overall (7.5 pounds from my attempted weigh-in yesterday). I'm sure my inches suffered as well, yet I still lost one and a quarter inches overall!

So... Below the yellow line? Yup. Very discouraging? Absolutely. Am I giving up? Tempted, but probably not.

I still have 179 days in which to shed these unwanted pounds and I choose to believe that I have been a victim of the evil Week Two re-balancing act and that I will lose far more weight and inches this coming week - it's also an interesting statistic that you will follow a low-loss week with a higher-loss week.

Later, my favorite carbon units! Tomorrow morning will find me dark and early, jiggling away those extra pounds!

Day 42: The Answer to Life, the Look You Want, and Everything

Never had a bed felt so good before! Sitting on the edge of the mattress, she glanced down at the clock on the bedside stand. Two o'clock in the morning?! How could it possibly be that late... or early? What kind of person went to bed at two every morning?

Fuzzy thoughts stumbled through her brain as she tried to focus for just another minute and twenty-seven seconds - just long enough to set the alarm for 5:30 AM. With eyelids that refused to obey even the simplest of commands, she blearily checked that the alarm was, in fact, set for three and one-half hours later and rolled floppily onto the bed.

Her aching feet wearily reveled in the lack of weight above them and her exhausted frame slowly relaxed from the pressures of the day. Ahhh... she sank blissfully into the soft pillow and pulled the down comforter up around her neck, wriggling just a bit as sleep...

Suddenly her eyes flew open with the foggy realization that the alarm was going off. Noooo. It couldn't possibly be time yet! She had just fallen asleep. Must be some mistake. But a groggy inspection of the nasty little alarm clock revealed the truth; it was 5:30.

Two and one-half hours had disappeared as if they had never existed.

You know the feeling. One minute, you're anticipating the nice, deep sleep you're about to get and the next (or so it seems), that horrible alarm is going off or, worse yet, some family member dares to disturb your slumbers.

I would venture to say that all of us have dealt with inadequate sleep at some point in our lives. Sometimes, it is a function of our own poor choices; other times, we really don't have a choice and are called from our peaceful slumbers by necessity (be it our own or that of others).

The average American gets about 6.5 hours of sleep each night; one hour less than 20 to 30 years ago. That may not seem so terrible until you realize the average adult needs between seven and eight hours each night! Sleep just doesn't seem that important anymore: not with cool late-night TV shows, places to hang out, extra work, increasing insomnia, etc.

The price we are paying for decreasing our sleep is intense. According to surveys, an this cultural lack of sleep is costing fifteen billion dollars in health care expenses and an estimated fifty billion in lost productivity costs - and this is for the U.S. One in five adults experience daytime sleepiness and fifty percent of those say it affects their work performance! Caffeine consumption is up as are the sales of insomnia medications.

The market and economy are not the only areas affected by lack of sleep. Health is seriously affected by insufficient sleep: lowered immune systems, increased stress levels, mood changes, cognitive ability, appetite, and even weight gain.

Ghrelin and leptin are two amazing complementary hormones that can help or hurt your life. Ghrelin not only increases appetite, but also may prevent weight loss. Leptin is a made mostly in fat cells and its amount in your blood is proportional to your amount of body fat. It is thought to suppress appetite, yet obesity is a leptin-resistant state; you ignore signals to stop eating. Through regular lack of sleep, ghrelin production increases (and leptin decreases), making you feel like eating all the time - especially foods high in carbohydrates and increased night-time snacking.

In 2006, a the largest study to track the sleep/weight connection was released. It included close to 70,000 middle-aged women and ran the course of 16 years. The results were shocking. Sleeping five or fewer hours per night yielded women who were 32% more likely to gain 33+ pounds and 15% more likely to become obese over the women who slept seven hours each night. Even sleeping six hours a night still resulted in a 12% likelihood of major weight gain and 6% likelihood of becoming obese when compared to the seven-hour-per-night women.

What happens when you don't get enough sleep (with respect to weight)? The sleep deficit will interfere with your body's ability to deal with and process carbohydrates, stress management, and hormonal balance. In just one sleep-deprived week, you'll have significant decrease in glucose processing abilities and insulin levels can rise to a pre-diabetic level.

So it would seem that ensuring seven to eight hours of sleep per night can have dramatic health, mental, and weight benefits. One Stanford researcher was quoted as saying, "[After increasing hours of sleep per night] Some of the improvements in performance, in mood, in cognitive ability, and in energy were really dramatic, almost superhuman."

Think you don't have enough time to sleep an extra hour or fraction thereof? Think again. Something as simple as turning off the television or not watching that movie could help you get to bed earlier. How about minimal caffeine, nicotine, and alcohol right before bed. Try not eating for three hours before you go to bed and then make sure you sleep in the dark - no night lights. Keep your work and projects out of the bedroom and let it be a place where you can relax - keep it clean and tidy. Instead of taking that medication to fall asleep, try exercising during the day and taking some calcium right before going to bed.

And yes, I am aware of the irony of this post as I sit here, 36 minutes before midnight, pontificating on the benefits of sleep and knowing full well I shall have to awaken around five o'clock, not only to feed the baby, but also to get to the gym!

Let's try an experiment this week: try getting at least seven hours of sleep each night. It might mean giving up some personal quiet time or cutting some entertainment from the schedule... but think what worlds might open if all you needed to lose that last five pounds was an extra hour of sleep?!

I, for one, need all the help I can get!

(photo courtesy of Joseph Miller Photography)

Day 39: Mid-second Week Musings

Calories:
1570

Exercises:
Missed the Y today; ignored alarm clock and had no opportunity later during the day (went visiting).

Emotional Pulse:
Disappointed in missing workout; busy and tired most of the day and didn't pay much attention to four-hour intervals between meals.

Well, as you can see from the calorie count, I really wasn't keeping on top of my diet, exercise, or much of anything else. ::sigh:: Oh, well! At least a lot of laundry got done.

According to the scale, I seem to have dropped another pound; and that measurement taken at the end of the day as well! I am refraining from breaking out the tape measure mid-week to see if I've lost any more inches (though I'm fairly sure I have).

If you've ever watched the Biggest Loser, you'll most likely have heard of the "second week curse" and its effects on the participants. Usually, during the first week, contestants lose a huge amount of weight - I've seen up to 7% of their total body weight!! The second week generally returns less-than-satisfactory results with most of the contestants losing pathetically low numbers, staying the same weight, or actually gaining weight - all this with super extra working out.

Second week results tend to be lower because of the body's plateauing and beginning to adjust to lower calories and increased exercise. It is not uncommon, also, to have a large-number weight loss in one week followed by a lower-number weight loss the next, only to be followed the next week by a larger loss.

I have been wondering what my second week results hold for me and I'm waiting with bated breath until I take those documentable measurements Tuesday morning! Until then, I have been encouraged by my results to continue to adhere to my diet and exercise plans, though I need to work a bit harder at getting in my three meals and snack at appropriate intervals throughout the day.

Day 38: In Search of MUFAs - The Flat Belly Diet Experience

Calories:
1838

Exercise:
Calorie Torch 30-minute interval walk (Flat Belly) with Wittle Waist move during high-speed sections.

Emotional Pulse:
Doing well; not bored, therefore not desiring to gobble; excited by weight loss and increasing endurance, in home and in gym.

I thought I'd start doing something new with each post.

As you know, my goal is to lose a total of 150 pounds by 25 July through the combined efforts of dieting, exercise, and improved living. To this end, I post a weekly status report showing my pound and inch losses and gains over the week that has just ended.

This evening, as I was returning home from the Y (::pat on back, pat on back::), it occurred to me that I could add another level of accountability to my attempts to post daily - especially in light of the fact that I've had a couple of rough days comprised of strong desires to blow the diet and eat everything in sight, then go out and buy some more to eat.

I will post each day how many calories I have eaten that day, my goal being 1800-2000 calories per day (a bit higher than the suggested 1600 per day because I am still nursing a baby). I will also post what my exercising activities were and a general emotional summary of the day. I imagine this will also help in curtailing various impulses to gorge on dried fruit... which is better than Krispy Kreme, I have to say!

Today marks the unveiling of what exactly is this diet I'm currently following.

At Jason's urgent request, we decided to follow the Flat Belly Diet! Though I didn't know it at the time, it turns out this diet is the hottest thing around right now. We bought the bright yellow book with friendly black lettering at CostCo for about $8.97 and it has changed our lives in eleven short days (though some certainly felt longer than others).

The Flat Belly Diet is fairly simple and has three basic rules:

1. Never go more than four hours without eating (I'm still working on that one).
2. Keep each of the three meals and single snack at about 400 calories (for the average woman).
3. Include one MUFA at each meal, including snack

So, what is a MUFA?! MUFA stands for MonoUnsaturated Fatty Acid and it is found in the following five items and/or groups:

1. Nuts and nut oils - some are higher in MUFA counts than others; macadamias are the highest
2. Olives - any type
3. Olive oil
4. Avocado - Hass are the best, with higher MUFA than California avocados
5. Dark chocolate - this HAS to be my absolute favorite and the saving grace of this diet!

So... it's a very simple diet plan and one that's not hard to stick to - and this is coming from one who absolutely HATES diets. I rarely feel hungry despite the smaller portions, and that is due to the inclusion of MUFAs. The fatty acids help you feel full longer... which is a wonderful thing!

Someone asked me what the difference was between this and WeightWatchers so I began thinking. I would say the greatest difference lies in the unshakable rule of including MUFAs with each meal. True, WeightWatchers does say you must include your fats and oils, yet these are the very things which are so commonly discarded because they contain SO many calories and because they have so much fat.

The other primary difference (as pointed out by my mom) lies in the lack of artificial sweeteners. If you're going to have something sweet, it should be the real thing. Artificial sweeteners do the body NO favors whatsoever; leaving you craving more sweet things and bloating that abdomen even more.

Although they are not explicitly forbidden (except in the first four days' Anti-Bloat Diet), it is highly encouraged that you cut back severely on caffeine (dehydrates and stresses the body), salt (aids and abets water retention), gassy foods (broccoli, cabbage, etc.), and gum chewing (extra air gets inside your gut).

This diet assures that each dieter will actually lose weight and inches off the belly, as promised, and will enjoy a lighter emotional feel - due to the increased happiness of your body.

Why are MUFAs so special? This particular fatty acid targets and aids in the dissolution of visceral body fat; this is the fat that congregates around your internal organs and increases your likelihood of disease and assorted other bad things happening.

Even very skinny people can have too much visceral fat; even though they have hardly any subcutaneous fat (the blubber which is normally referred to as 'fat'). You can be the perfect weight and BMI, yet still be woefully unhealthy. Amazing!

Just as a quick testimonial to the power of MUFAs, the week before we actually started the Flat Belly Diet, we added a MUFA to each meal. Didn't really change the way we were eating, just recorded everything and added a MUFA each meal. At the end of the week, I had lost 2.25 inches... and was eating an average of 3000 calories per day!!

Now, we are about to begin Day 12 of this diet. Jason is down about 12 pounds and I have bid farewell to at least 7.5 pounds AND 4.5 inches!! If that doesn't encourage you, feel free to communicate with me... I'd love to encourage you.

For those who can't wait to lose weight yourself, click HERE to purchase your own copy of the Flat Belly Diet (via my brand-new I-think-I'll-try-this Amazon.com Associate link).

As I mentioned before, I HATE diets. Yet this is one I am absolutely loving. Yes, I have my rough patches, but overall, I'm excited to see the weight coming off. I'm enjoying feeling my clothes fit looser. I'm reveling in the increased endurance I have to deal with every-day challenges.

I am not perfect and don't always have happy days with this diet, but I am learning - for perhaps the very first time in my life - how to control my passion for eating.

Day 37: I Belly Survived Wipe-out Wednesday!

If Malevolent Mondays are a thing to be dreaded and Tortuous Tuesdays cannot be avoided, what can possibly be done to weather Wipe-out Wednesdays?! Since today marks the half-way point of my second week of diligently working out (weight training and cardio) and the second week of the Flat Belly Diet, I thought it only fitting you should get a glimpse into my middle-of-the-week Hump-day (as Jason calls it).

Today was very nearly a complete disaster! My sweet little boy caught something nasty somewhere and, in the process of tending to his little (often whiny) needs, his germs felt they should play war with my white blood cells - thus the feeling icky this week, particularly today.

And yet, in the face of such adverse conditions, I've managed to haul my reluctant body to the gym each day. My ultimate goal is to work out five days a week (in the early morning), alternating weight training with cardio exercises AND doing at least a 30-minute walk each day. Last week, I got in four days and walked quite a bit on the fifth day while doing errands.

So... what factors force me to leave my lovely home into the unfriendly atmosphere of the gym? First, I know somewhere in the anklebone of my heart that I will feel better after having exercised. Second, the blog creates such a burden of responsibility on me, I feel obligated to go. Third, I have an amazing husband who is dedicated to my pursuit of weight loss and it is he who frequently encourages and gently kicks me out the door to do the thing I know I must. Lastly, I am still in awe of the reader(s) who paid for our YMCA membership... I owe you and, so far, the only way I can repay you is by constant dedication to working out regularly.

Food? You know, with this diet, I have become painfully aware that most, if not all, of my eating happens from non-hunger influences. I like to eat when I'm bored, upset, stressed, exhausted, depressed, celebratory... the list goes on. Even though my diet has a snack available, I am still amazed at how much I want to eat - not need to eat; want to eat.

Today was very nearly a disaster because of that. I wasn't feeling great, had been listening to kids whine all day, didn't get the stuff done I'd hoped for, and just wanted to sit around and do nothing. Would you believe it? The one bottom-line factor that kept me from indulging in an extra handful of chocolate and more breakfast bars (or worse) was the knowledge that I would have to post at the end of the day... and I, as sure as all that is yummy, did not want to post a failure.

When you get tempted to eat more food; run away and refocus. This whole self-control thing is NOT fun anymore!

Oh. And one more cool little fact: I lost 2.48% of my weight this past week. Unfortunately, had I been on Week 1 of The Biggest Loser, I would have fallen below the yellow line - the lowest was 4.75%.

Week 6: Running Amok with [Insert Temptation Here]

Glancing at the aunts behind her, the eleven-year-old girl pushed on the exit door of the Old Country Buffet. The odors of warm and inviting food gave way to the crisp, invigorating scents of fall air and the brisk liveliness of the outdoors.

Pronouncements of satisfaction and delight filled the air as the two older women relived their recent dessert experience and lovingly patted those body parts where those extra calories would soon gather.

"A moment on the lips; a lifetime on the hips."

This foreign adage fell on the little girl's ear and, after learning the meaning of that phrase, solemnly announced to the amused aunts that she didn't gain weight down there. Despite their comments to the contrary ("Just wait until you get older"), the little girl was quite positive she never would.

And the aunts laughed.

Well... that day was about... hmm... yes, well... a while back. And that little girl was I. I saw what older women looked like and where they put on extra poundage. After eleven years of deep experience and minimal weight gain, I was also equally sure I would NEVER look like that nor accumulate weight in my hips and derriere; NEVER!

Alas. As the years have passed, not only has the surplus of emergency reserve clung to my hips, it has also padded that which I sit upon, increased the circumference of my arms, added to my jawline, filled out my stomach, obscured my waist, and hidden the natural contours of my legs. To my chagrin, the aunts were right. Thus, from a childhood memory, a hackneyed phrase, and something I'd recently read, an insight was born.

How many times has the following happened to you? You're either on a diet, or have been doing SO well, and one day you mess up. How often do you throw the entire plan out the window? Become depressed? Despondent? What do you do when in the depths of dietary despair? Cry? Eat? Watch depressing chick flicks? Eat? Whine to your friends? Eat? Make new resolutions? Eat? Re-write your entire diet plan from the beginning? Eat?

Personally, my "excuse" to end any diet has always been to mess up just once, give up in despair, eat every yummy thing in sight, and sink into massive depression as I scroll through my mental slide-show of Svelte Me; tears streaming because I don't look like what I think I should look like... and never will. ::sigh::

Been there? I'm sure most of of us have been at this point at least once in our lives; at least once.

Okay. So you ate that Hershey's Kiss. Oops. You didn't work out at the gym today(!). Gasp. You ate the WHOLE cheesecake?! And what do you mean, there are 48 servings in that sheet of gooey carrot cake?! Are these reasons to give up on your weight-loss or fitness goal? Is any one of these a sufficient reason to get depressed and go on a week-long eating binge? Which of the above is the unpardonable sin that will forever separate you from thin bliss?

News flash. Just one mess-up is NOT going to ruin your life. And at the risk of puncturing self-pity bubbles and dismembering personal food fest plans, I shall state this again (this time in bold): Just one mistake is NOT going to ruin your life.

Switch your focus from the small to the large picture. Don't look at the mistake and fall into a vicious cycle of self-condemnation and self-loathing. Don't take your tear-stained cheeks to IHOP. Don't try to end all your good intentions by stuffing your head in the nearest cookie jar. Instead, admit you made a mistake, ask yourself (and whomever else) for forgiveness, and get right back on track.

Think objectively. If you suddenly snapped one late afternoon or evening and gobbled down a whole handful of chocolate or inhaled a slice of pizza or lost yourself in a glass of soda, yet everything else with your eating and exercise was fine - this was your only mistake - what would the damage be? Honestly, not that much!

From a physical/mathematical standpoint, what's the worst thing that just happened? Um... you ate an extra couple hundred calories. Do you realize that the average human burns 2000-2500 calories PER DAY; not including specific exercise! One larger-calorie meal in the midst of smaller meals will be treated by your body as an anomaly instead of the norm. Drink some extra water and maybe eat a little lighter the next meal... but don't give up and binge through the weekend.

Make sure your mistake doesn't turn a mistake of a few hundred calories into a several-thousand-calorie mistake! It's not worth it. By nipping your slip-up immediately, chances are you'll never see lasting side effects from your mistake.

The true price that tends to be paid with dieting "cheats" or "slip-ups" or mistakes is paid in emotions. The guilt we lay on ourselves is enormous; it does far more harm than we realize. Remember: the link between guilty depression and comfort eating is a fairly reliable one. So be prepared to fight.

Do yourself (and others) a favor - take a little responsibility and catch your mistakes while they are yet small and do it in a be-kind-to-yourself way. In so doing, you will keep them from ruining your life and will help you maintain self-control.

After all, real life is not like a regimented diet. The more self-control and moderation practiced throughout the assigned diet period, the more likely you will be able to take those skills and apply them to normal eating and living.

Think life change; not diet.

(photo courtesy of www.babble.com)

Day 30: Donations, Epiphanies... And There Goes My Last Excuse

The word that springs to mind is, "WOW!!" And yet, the "wow" I feel goes SO far above and beyond that oft-used word. The "wow" I am experiencing is insufficiently described by words, transcends a basic level of jaw muscle control, and stimulates the lacrimal gland.

Let me tell you why.

All throughout the creation and somewhat-regular posting of this blog, there has remained in the back of my mind an "out." This "out" primarily consists of the notion that if things don't really go the way I hope they will, it's not a big deal... My readers would be disappointed, I'd be a failure, and what else would be new?

This lovely bubble of pre-planned failure popped less than a week ago.

An unbelievable donation was made to our YMCA membership account by an anonymous donor. This donor mention they were doing this as a direct result of reading this very blog! That's right! One of "you people" is that special donor! I still don't know who did this amazing thing, but whoever paid for our gym membership through June(!), know that I will never be able to thank you enough!

You have taken away my very last excuse and have shattered my secret "out."

How can I possibly fail you now?! How can I, in any good conscience, NOT go work out diligently? How can I not share the progress I am making... and because I don't know who you are, I must continue to use this forum. Giving up or quitting just became a non-option because I WILL NOT let you down and WILL NOT let your generous donation go to waste.

Thank you so much, wonderful anonymous donor, for the new life you have breathed into this Project and for the amazing gift you have provided to me and Jason through your donation! (I'm still in a bit of shock) It's amazing to find out that someone has been impacted to such a level by this smattering of my thoughts while losing weight!

You will be happy to know that upon learning of your donation, I made my way to the gym the very next week day and have continued to go faithfully. It is your thoughtfulness and participation in my Project that gets me out of bed at 5:30 in the morning, an hour after feeding the baby, and enervates me to get to the Y when it's still dark and cold.

If you choose, at some point, to reveal yourself, I would love it. But, as much as I'm aching to discover your identity, I will ask if you could remain anonymous until the end of the Project. I know the mystery behind your participation in this Project will only maintain my level of dedication to finishing what I have started.

Once again, thank you!

My epiphany came today as I was driving home from the gym, shivering in the not-yet-warm car (we live too close to the Y for the car to warm up).

Since Monday, Jason and I have been following the Flat Belly Diet; a diet which involves eating about 1200 non-bloating calories the first four days - more about this later. When my visionary husband first suggested we follow this diet, my initial response was, "No way! I HATE diets!"

Now I'm sure part of my response came from the fact that he suggested we begin the diet on Monday... when it was SUNDAY night! The other part of my response came from glancing at the meager portions listed in the daily food plans within the book; I was sure I would starve... and I'm currently nursing a two-month-old baby (i.e., I'm ALWAYS hungry).

Biting my tongue, I respectfully submitted that we not start cold turkey the next day, but instead spend a week dutifully recording how many calories we were eating and include a MUFA (Mono-Unsaturated Fatty Acid) with each meal as the Diet required. He agreed and I, inwardly dreading the week, found halfway through the week that I was ready to undertake the 32-day diet challenge.

More details will come in a following post, but here, on Day Three of our Flat Belly Diet, I was struck by this realization: I am called to be Jason's wife and therefore, obedient and submissive to his vision and guidance for our family... and he's come up with some interesting visions over the two years we've been married! ::smile::

As a married woman, I have reaped and continue to reap the benefits of submitting to my parents' authority leading up to my marriage and today, I realized I am reaping the rewards of submitting to my husband's authority.

Within three days, I have already lost six pounds and have no clue as to how many inches! Not only that, but the week before going on the Diet, I had lost over two inches! I feel great and am starting to see a change in that nasty mirror!

And so it was this morning, in the dark, icy car that I realized God is blessing my obedience to my husband. He is blessing me for honoring Jason's request to do the Flat Belly Diet and to exercise in the most wonderful way ever... progress along my weight-loss path!

Hang in there with me, "you people"; you truly inspire and re-dedicate me to the Project I have undertaken!