Too busy?

I really, truly am too busy right now.

I work fulltime as the Program Manager for a busy government program and commute about 3 hours every day to get to and from my job.

I teach a 4 hour nursing theory class on Tuesday nights and all week peck away at teaching the same course online. I assign too many assignments which means seemingly endless marking but I care deeply about my students and their learning so it's worthwhile.

I am training for a half marathon - getting up at 5 am to tackle hill repeats (which I love - strangely enough) and tempo runs and spending Sunday mornings logging 16-19 km with all the related warm up and cool down and stretching time factored in. I crosstrain with an active, vibrant yoga practice and swim laps in my pool.

I have a husband. We have friends. My grown daughters are launched or are launching - but my year old grandson needs a periodic visit involving multiple flights to Savannah for long but oh so very short weekends and the youngest needs reassurance that she won't get lost at U of T in the fall.

Planning a get together with another couple requires the services of an event planner and 4 Blackberries. Committing to a family get together at the cottage means a complete overhaul of a month's worth of "to do" items. Forget that crown I need - there is no time to call the dentist to make an appointment let alone time to attend it.

In the meantime, there are books piling up on my bedside table begging to be enjoyed. And emails from people awaiting my witty reply. There is an empty refrigerator and an overfull laundry basket and sometimes I can barely muster the strength to suck back the needed dose of Flovent before tumbling into bed at 9 pm.

It is a full life. I am BUSY. Everyone I know is busy! And everyone uses it as an excuse for something.

My girlfriend is too busy to exercise. She gave up her nightly walks when her work started following her home like a scruffy, persistent dog. The 22 lbs she's gained since Christmas are starting to show and she is finding less energy to get through her work during the day meaning even more is tracking her home.

My colleague is too busy to prepare meals. She no longer packs a nutritious lunch and generally picks up something from a fast food joint on the way home from the office for dinner. She complains about the toll it's taking on her wallet but doesn't admit to any worry about what it's doing to her or her family's health.

Another is too busy to carry on with her French classes - she's been studying for a couple of years and even dated a fellow student for a time - she loves to tell of their trip to Paris where she mangled enough verbs to start another revolution and felt completely bilingual despite her lack of fluency. She, too, is simply too busy at work to take any personal time at all anymore and her French is limited to our occasional fractured conversations.

All of them are too busy to diet. "I haven't time to attend Weight Watcher's meetings anymore" says one - "I'm going to have to take a break."

I understand that something has to give - there are, after all, only so many hours in the day. But in the grand priority of life - nutrition and exercise have to come first. Just like there is no "taking a vacation" from proper nutrition, there is no "too busy" for it either. Too busy to feed and nurture yourself? Too busy to ensure your body is getting what it needs to keep moving forward? Too busy to care about your spirit or your mind? Too busy to prevent disease? Too busy to love yourself?

Yes, some things have to go but surely active involvement in loving ourself fits in somewhere? In order to make sure I still have time for the activities I need to be healthy, I've given some things up this summer:

• I've given up time on the WW boards and facebook until I get through this too busy period.
• I've given up TV using it twice a week for my yoga practice and little more. I can get the news while I'm commuting - usually 6 times over!
• I've given up reading for pleasure.
• I've given up cooking - we're eating raw and straight from the fridge most days.
• I've given up my blog - this is the first time I've written in 3 weeks and only because the last appointment of my day didn't show!
• I've given up shopping - I can do without a trip to the mall more than I can do without an hour of weight training.
• I've given up house work - well, not completely -but let's just say my standard has slipped substantially and people should call before they drop by!

But I haven't given up on me and what I need to be healthy - I am still logging my food intake. I am still eating healthfully 95% of the time. I am diligent about exercising. I am committed to these lifestyle changes I have made.

And when the load lightens - I'm not teaching ANYTHING in September! - I'll be grateful that I stayed on track as I'm sitting on the couch watching TV and chatting with the wonderful people on the 40s board.

See you in the fall :)

Yes, Virginia, it is ALL about Self Worth

I'll admit it. I'm a little leery of the GDT on the WW website.

Primarily populated by intelligent, opinionated, witty women, (many, frankly, with way too much time on their hands), it is often the place where the power of those immense attributes is not used for the purpose of good. So much sarcasm and criticism and put downs in the name of humour, bonding of the few, exclusion of the many, control of something as meaningless as the GDT. I've ventured in naively a time or two and have been accused of being a troll - the ultimate act of isolation and control - so, I stay away. But I can't help but lurk because, buried in the meaningless chatter about Jon and Kate Plus Eight, there is often a nugget worth exploration.

Earlier this week, someone posted a plaintive question that went something like this: "Why don't I have the self worth needed to keep myself from making poor choices?" I only read the first dozen or so replies - every one of them stating unilaterally that "self worth" has nothing to do with this process - it's all about the formula: calories in < calories used = weight loss.

Whoa Nelly.

I so completely disagree that I could barely keep myself from responding but, like I said, I've been burned, I don't have the energy for the fight and, I need way more space than the box provides to rebut such crazy talk.

Frequently I am asked the secret of my success - usually by an overweight friend or colleague eyeing me up and down hoping that I'll throw the magic pill their way. And sometimes, if I'm rushed, I'll smile sagely and say, "It's a BIG secret! Eat less, exercise more. Now I'm going to have to kill you" and walk on. But that truly is the least of my success. The truth is more complex - I had to find enough self worth to be able to begin taking care of myself.

Without belief that you and your body deserve the very very best life has to offer, you cannot succeed with the sense of sacrifice the "less food more movement" formula dictates. A person with low feelings of self worth will succumb to one temptation or another and, when life throws a curve ball, the whole thing will get thrown under a bus. It's hard hard work applying this formula every single day for the rest of your life. You've got to believe on a very deep level that you are absolutely worth this effort - because, if you don't, you won't be able to sustain it. I believe that completely.

Trying to find the part of myself that truly believed I was worth taking care of has been critical to my success. To do this, I first had to get past what my DD aptly calls the "itty bitty shitty committee" (IBSC) of rage, shame, fear, guilt and isolation who convened regularly in my head to keep positive thoughts out and angry self damaging emotion in - all in the name of self protection, of course. Getting past this team of experts is no easy task! I seduced them with the gentle practice of yoga one day and discovered they didn't, actually, rule the world! I liked the quieting of their whining voices and practiced yoga more committedly and more regularly in hopes of lulling them to sleep more often. It worked. But, holding a Brave Warrior pose has its limitations as a long term solution so, I added other practices I thought would help:

Daily Affirmation
"Today is the day I take care of myself because I am worthy. I am a unique person of great value to this world and today is the only day I have to treat myself with true love. I will do this by feeding my body healthfully, exercising my physical self, working towards a positive, serene spirit. This I do for love."

I recite every single morning whether I feel like doing it or not. Every morning.

Gratitude Journal
Every evening I find things for which I am thankful. And I write them down. This is not easy - some days are really crappy - filled with bad news, scary events, mean spirited people - days you'd rather forget. Forcing myself to find something good in every day is an engrossing act. Coming up with "I hit all green lights on the way home from the train" has the IBSC throwing up their hands in disgust - how can they compete with such abject cheerfulness?

Positive Things Journal
In my briefcase, I keep a journal of lists of 10 positive things. Every night on the train, I come up with a list of 10 Positive Things. Whatever strikes my fancy. 10 memorable places I've seen moose made up one list. 10 favorite teachers (going all the way back to the lovely Miss Kerr in grade 4) and 10 favorite 1 point snacks. It takes about 5 minutes to complete and ALWAYS leaves me smiling - neither thing can I say about the sudoku.

Thank You
Saying "thank you for doing such a great job" really rips the IBSC a new one. When one has low self worth manifested by a committee of angry, small minded ne'er-do-wells, one does not give a rat's patootie about how hard people around you are trying to make a life. But, seeking them out to say thank you means you start to notice how hard they're trying. I don't mean the slack jawed neanderthal behind the counter chatting personally with a customer while 12 people wait in line. I do mean the lady who cleans your office, the young couple who own your local coffee shop and remembers you like it black, the girl driving the ttc bus in rush hour, the guys mopping the floor outside the washrooms - all of these people are there. Everyday. Connecting with them invariably brings a smile to their face and one to your own heart.

It took a long time for these things to work with yoga to change the IBSC. But change they did. It's like someone took them out back and gave them new identities: forgiveness, serenity, optimism, gratitude. And, their new titles brought a new sense of value to my own inner world.

It's this valuing of myself that keeps me weighing and measuring my food. Keeps me adding new ways to get movemeny into my day to day life. Keeps me focussed on my goals. That lets me honour the commitments I've made to myself. That keeps me thin.

I don't ever ask myself "am I thin enough?" - I ask "am I worth this?" If the answer is yes, then the first question will take care of itself.

I was never unhappy because I was fat. I was fat because I was unhappy.

Gone - foods on the NO list

Thursday at lunch, a colleague and I both had tuna we were spreading on sandwiches . She remarked that she loved tuna but it took so long to prepare in the morning and I told her I just opened the can and ate it plain. No prep. Everyone looked at me like they'd never heard of such a thing in their life. "How could you eat it without mayonaisse?" they asked. "Isn't it dry?"
Well, the answer is I use dijon mustard on the bread and have layers of cukes and peppers to add some moisture but the truth is more simple: it doesn't matter if it's dry, I don't eat mayonnaise.

Mayonnaise is one of the things that I simply don't eat any longer and never think about eating. I remember a trip to Germany years ago where my DH and I discovered open market stands where you could buy fresh french fries with a side of mayo to dip them into. And so we did. Lots of times. I loved mayo - on anything. But, somewhere along the road of this journey, it met the axe.

I think of my recovery from obesity the way recovering alcoholics think about drinking - just don't do it - abstinence is critical. As a result, many foods and I have parted company. If you've read my earliest posts, you'll know they didn't all leave at the same time. I'm still dropping things at the side of the road - 2 months ago it was diet pop that got the boot. A mainstay of my fluid intake since the introduction of aspartame, I haven't touched the stuff for more than 2 months and don't plan to ever drink it again.

Lots of people say this approach can't work - that you HAVE to have foods you love as treats to keep balance - no one can live without cake. I know that a small piece of cake on Monday isn't going to ruin my life but the imbalance in my endocrine system is going to be felt for at least 48 hours and Tuesday afternoon will find me cruising the kitchen looking for another sweet treat. I've experienced this many times and believe that my "Just Say No" approach is the one reason I am seldom hungry and have few, if any, cravings.

But, you can't drop things all at once. It's taken my 4 1/2 years to streamline my diet to the 95% healthy one I have now. It took 2 years to get rid of deep fried foods - eliminating offenders one at a time, replacing things with low fat alternatives then pitching them too. That's been the approach since day one - reduce, substitute, remove. And then say no.

So, what's GONE? My colleagues were shocked to find that mayonnaise and I were no longer on speaking terms and were keen to hear about my self imposed dietary restrictions. I was having trouble listing them, so I decided to do it here for my own benefit:

• cream - I used to use 18% in my coffee - I reduced it several times before getting to black 2 years ago
• sugar - substituted with Splenda for a year or so then stopped using it - in everything. Yes, you can eat cereal without anything sweet in it - I've done so for 3 years
• potato chips - previously my absolute favorite snack - a 200g bag just for me please. There was no way to reduce the volume I ate so I tried low fat baked varieties - meh. Now I don't touch them at all and haven't thought about them for over a year
• white flour - it's EVERYWHERE!! Took 2 years to eliminate it - first through substitution of whole wheat where possible - now, the bread I eat (rarely) is 75% grain, pasta is whole grain, I don't eat processed foods so I don't worry about where it's hidden - I stay away from the stuff like a recovering cocaine addict stays away from her white powder of choice
• butter, margarine, mayonnaise - gone
• chocolate - unless it's a rare square of Lindt 85% dark - I don't bother thinking about it and haven't for 2 years
• chewy candy wine gums, jujubes, gummy bears - no matter what percentage of "real juice" they're made of - they're sugar and I don't need them
• juice - not counting the ounce or two of sugar free cranberry in my cosmo, I no longer drink it and don't miss it. I used to get up thirsty in the middle of the night so I'd stumble to the fridge and drink 8 oz of Orange Juice in a single gulp. That stopped 4 years ago - now I keep a water glass beside my bed.
• baked goods - in eliminating cookies, cakes and pies from my diet, I've discovered a surprising truth - unless it's home made of the finest ingredients, it just doesn't taste that great. In self defence, I don't bake and haven't for 6 months.
• syrup, jam, canned fruit - I canned my own peaches, raspberries and cherries for years. Stopped in 2007 - don't touch the stuff, too much sugar.
• take out - once upon a time, DH and I ate KFC EVERY Friday night. Haven't touched the stuff in 2 years although I'd be lying if I said the scent of it didn't make me want to eat a bucket on my own! I no longer eat any fast food - not even soup at Timmie's (makes me feel ill afterwards). If stuck without food near a Food Court, I'll get an undressed Greek salad with a chicken souvlaki spear at the ubiquitous Greek place.
• pop - my most recent break up - who'd have thought a 25 year relationship could be over so fast? 2 months and counting
• ketchup and relish - replaced with dijon and olive tapenade 2 years ago. A very grown up taste!
• bacon, salami, pepperettes - food I grew up on! Decided to eliminate them a year ago much to DHs dismay!

And so on.

What's stayed? Wine (red or white) and ales - especially dark brews like Guinness. Licorice - daily - I'm seriously addicted to real, black licorice. These are probably the only "empty calories" left in my day to day diet. I added skim milk lattes a few years ago (I drink my daily coffee black) - triple shot grandes - 2 decaf/1 regular - heaven in a cup. I also eat a dried raspberry, cherry and blueberry blend with a serving of almonds - dried fruit are high in sugars but these compensate with anti-oxidant properties and other nutritive benefits. Red meat - couldn't survive without steak. Robust cheeses - the kind that puts hair on your chest. Hummus,tzatziki and peanut butter - sometimes right from a spoon but more often with baby carrots. Every vegetable known to mankind. Every form of mustard. Any variety of fresh fruit - no questions asked. Grains morning, noon and night.

It's a full diet that fills me up, powers me down the road and restores me while I sleep. This, after all, is what I need and want from food. I don't miss what's gone but am happy, now, to have revisited the reasons I sent them packing.

Invisible

My friend first introduced me to the sad fact of "invisibility" a decade ago. 10 years older than I, she remarked quite candidly that she was starting to feel invisible as she reached her late 40s. Tall and lithe with the grace of carriage earned at the barre of traditional ballet, she had always had a physical presence that made people notice her. Suddenly, she knew she wasn't turning heads any longer. I listened to her lament and pettily thought it had more to do with her now matronly haircut and over-sized clothes she favoured than any loss of physical attractiveness but later, on my own, I felt my own pangs of longing. It had been many, many years since I, then 39, had been visible to others.

Some of us crave invisibility - and use our weight as an effective barrier against unwanted attention but that isn't me. An extravert who was a pretty child with a talent for acting and a clever wit, I grew up blessed with many friends and suitors. High school was fun for me - academically gifted, I was also naturally flirtatious and at more at ease with boys than girls. I had many dates, was a school captain and popular leader. The young woman that I was would not have been able to fathom a time when she became invisible.

But more problematic than being invisible to others was that I have been, for a long time, invisible to myself.

Children, stress, work, life - all converged to wear me down and food kept me going. As I gained weight however, I did not really see myself as fat. I became invisible to myself first. Like many people, I use what other people look like as a benchmark of how I looked. I didn't see myself as fat because I could always find someone fatter than I - they were fat, I was ok. I didn't consider that other people might have been using me as their own benchmark!!!

So - I was invisible to myself - truly did not think I was "that bad" even though every year brought a larger size of clothing (and, unbeknownst to me, sizes were getting more generous all the time - some of my 18s were probably 22s in 1978 terms!). Everytime I looked in the mirror, I saw curves not rolls. I saw cleavage, not fat. I saw myself as healthy, not obese. I didn't weigh myself so had no number to think about. I had photos, but quickly destroyed most of them as they caught me "at a poor angle" or "having a bad hair day"! It's startling to me now how long I went without really seeing what was there in front of me.

And now, I continue to have the very same issue. As of today, I have lost 77.2 lb. I am wearing size 2 capri pants and an XS sweater. My girls have deserted me and I'm wearing a tank top instead of a bra - trust me, no one will notice! My underwear is sized small. My rings have been re-sized, my bracelets are too big and, when I look into the mirror, I have the eerie sensation of my grandmother (who was a very tiny woman and whom I now clearly resemble) looking back at me. But - I don't see myself as thin. I am back to the old habit of looking at other woman for comparison - "ah, she's really tiny, I am not thin". It's not about being thin enough. It's not about wishing I were thinner. It is, crazily, about still being invisible to myself. I know people have poor body images but is it possible to have NO body image?

I don't know how to overcome this. On every intellectual level I know I am thin. But I don't see it. I worry that this may have a long term impact on my weight maintenance so I am cautiously beginning a daily weigh in as a way to monitor slips. I am looking for ways to help me see myself realistically and am hoping I get there soon. It's a very strange struggle.

Of interest though is that I am no longer invisible to others. DH is particularly proud to tell me my trip through the pub to the ladies room turned a few appreciative heads and I'm back to fending off unwanted compliments from strange men the worst of which was "I don't want you to leave but I look forward to watching you walk away" from some half drunk sleeze ball at Union Station - gross. This I don't mind - I'm still an attention hog (hence the blog) and the flirty high schooler in me feels resuscitated - but I do need to get over being invisible to myself.

Love thyself

Recently, while listening to a good friend describe her agony as she watches her diabetic daughter kill herself with food and denial, I had an epiphany. We try to kill things we hate: spiders building nests in the crown molding of the living room, mice invading the kitchen, mosquitoes buzzing around our ears and removing chunks of our bodies. These things we kill because we truly find them despicable, ugly, nasty and wrong. We hate them.

I knew when I was 221 lb that I was an unhealthy weight - I wasn't born yesterday - I know those french fries and Mars bars, fried egg and bacon sandwiches and 200g bags of dill pickle chips were bad for me the same way I know my head won't go through a windshield in a fetching way and that smoking is a chemical wasteland for my lungs and other organs. I've been raised in a culture bombarded with health information so I knew everytime I gobbled down another piece of carrot cake I was doing myself harm - I was killing myself.

It has taken a long time for me to understand that I was killing myself because I found myself to be despicable, ugly, nasty and just plain worng. Just like a mosquito. A really fat mosquito.

Don't get me wrong - I wasn't a writhing mess of self loathing - my suicide plan was well hidden - but everytime I looked in the mirror and saw my big soft belly flow over my pants, I would sigh in disgust. If others were engaged in chit chat about various body parts, I would roll my eyes and declare I hated my thighs, despised my hair, had ugly hands with broken nails - all negative. Trying on clothes in a trendy shop - hours of self loathing and despair. "I hate how big my butt looks in these jeans." "I hate that I am so fat I need a size 18 and this store stops at 16." "I hate myself."

Why on earth would anyone do anything nice for something they hate?

I wouldn't offer a mouse pooping in my pantry a warm bed and tiny glass of merlot. The beautiful spider webs and their diligent owners get no eviction notice - they get the abrupt end of a kleenex and a quick vacuum into oblivion.

If I hate myself - why would I do anything nice for me?

Learning to love myself has been a huge part of this journey. To LOVE my thunder thighs (man they can run!), to LOVE my beautiful blue eyes, to LOVE my raucous laugh that can wake the dead and my LOUD voice. To REFUSE to engage in putting myself down - if the conversation turns to a hatefest of body parts, I REFUSE to join in. I look in the mirror every day and tell my body I LOVE it. Yes - losing almost 80lbs means I have one whack of extra skin smooched around my belly - maybe I'll have that removed someday by a good looking surgeon (dream BIG!) but in the meantime - I LOVE that it's no longer full of fat and that a good foundation garment will do wonders! I LOVE my hair, I LOVE the way the tendons on my neck are visible. I LOVE my single chin - lonely though it may be. I LOVE the shape of my biceps and appreciate the job my triceps are doing holding those chicken wings in! I LOVE the shape of my calves - oh my they are sexy in heels! I LOVE my calloused, neuroma riddled feet and thank them for hauling me around all these years.

I love myself. And we take care of the things we love - grandma's Christmas china, our favourite cashmere sweater, our pets, our children and, ultimately ourselves.

I love myself. I will take care of myself.

We take care of the things we love.

Running with it.

About 5 years ago, I read an article in Chatelaine or Canadian Living magazine about a woman who, at 45 (my age then) decided she was sick of being overweight and took up running, lost at least 50 lbs and ran a half marathon. I read every word of her story, marvelled incredulously at her ability to set running a half marathon as a goal for herself - worried about the condition of her knees, skeptically looked for signs of insanity in the photo of her taken in full on running gear. The nasty person inside of me doubted the details, told me it was impossible and mocked my jealousy of someone who, seriously, had to be joking. Who takes up running at 45?

A year later, I started running. I had just begun this journey and was dedicated to my walking program but sometimes I needed to walk farther than I had time for so, I ran a bit of it to speed it up a little. My 15 year old border collie was up for it but my heart and lungs sure weren't. I could manage about 1/3 km before taking a km long break - maybe running 1 km in total over the 4 km distance. Those were heady times - even in the inevitable post-run asthmatic haze that sent me wheezing to the couch, I relished the memory of running those wee distances; I felt, for a brief flash of time, like a kid again.

But I wasn't a kid. I was an obese 46 year old with severe asthma, abused knees and a bum hip - I wondered if running "for real" was even possible. My misplaced pride kept me from seeking professional help at the Running Room so I just kept adding a little more until running a full km wasn't the end of the world. I told my doctor I was "running" - she had the grace not to ask too many probing questions but added another inhaler and suggested massage therapy and both helped.

Once I moved to Ontario where my asthma was more controlled, I even started running in the daylight. To this point, a year into my metamorphosis to "runner", I had only run in the dark. Embarrassed by my technique? Worried about fat rolls spilling over spandex pants? Not wishing to startle the neighbours? I'm not sure of my reasoning - I just know that I ran spring and fall and only after dark that first year and it took monumental courage to venture out during the daylight hours!

It took more than 3 years of running spring and fall to run a consistent 4 kms. But I was running! I started reading more about it and took the suggestions for pre and post run nutrition and exercise to heart. I lost more weight and running became easier. I started some new medications and got my asthma under control. I over did it while trying to increase my distance and suffered my first ever athletic injury - and worked through that and ran some more. This year, I ran through the winter for the first time ever and plan to tackle summer's humid swelter box by getting up at 5 am. And, recently, after all of this forward motion, I signed up for a half marathon - the Toronto Waterfront - Sept 27th.

This morning, I ran an easy 12km in an hour. While on vacation last week, I logged more than 30 km - DH riding with me on his bike to keep me from getting lost (and to take completely unnecessary "action shots" like the one at the right!).

It isn't always easy to lace up the shoes and get out the door. But like every part of this journey, I've added it so slowly that, without even noticing it, running is simply a part of my life. I continue to feel like a kid when I run. I also feel like I'm an athlete - ME, an athlete!

And I feel like revisiting my skeptical self from 5 years ago to let that sad, yearning woman know that it IS possible to set a crazy goal like running a half marathon at any age and meet it - no matter how long it takes to do so.

Vacation Alert...

That's what my auto-responder is set to at work this week - a notice to everyone that I won't be answering their emails until my return to routine. And vacationing I am - in Savannah, Georgia at the moment savouring the sunny southern comfort and clear blue skies. Loving my grandson and my daughter, spending some relaxed time with DH - not rushing around on a Saturday trying to squeeze all of life into a single car ride.

Sometimes I think we all need a Vacation Alert message to pop up in our brains while we're actually on vacation. Why do we think that we can "fall off the wagon" for a week while we're away from home? Why do we think we deserve or need a vacation from our healthy lifestyles and choices? Why do these myriad changes we're trying to make feel like their own form of work once we're away from home? It's not work - it's life. Whether we're home or not.

A couple of times this week I've popped a homemade praline (7000 cal, 680g fat and 1 g fibre! You get the idea!!) in my mouth with the pre-thought of "it's okay, I'm on vacation" but, truly, that's the wrong message! I can't afford to take a vacation from my health. There is no justification to allow a vacation to interfere with eating thoughtfully! I don't NEED a vacation from my usual nutritious diet.

So - I'm changing my praline moments to something more accurate and sustainable. I've run more than 20 kms on this trip, biked for 3 hours around old Savannah yesterday, spent an hour practicing yoga on the beach (and have the gazillion bug bites to prove it too), biked an hour tonight on the surf line of the beach - all in all, I've maintained a healthy exercise program and there is room in my intake for a praline because I haven't overeaten elsewhere. I have consumed a healthy diet and there is room in a healthy diet for a homemade praline.

So - I can have it if I want it. If it's worth it (homemade pralines Georgia style are sssooooo worth it!) and if there's room. Not because I'm on vacation.

Back to the beach.