Thursday, February 11, 2010

The Weight Warrior

I have been eating like a normal human being for the past four days. I say that in a completely positive I am incredibly proud that I have made it this far. Many times, I have started out like gangbusters, and then ended up like some kind of food intoxicated version of Amy Winehouse surrounded by Kashi wrappers and TOTALLY in denial. I mean, Kashi is healthy, right?

I have several issues with staying on course, and thought I'd catalog these to remind myself where the potholes are on the road leading out of the land of obesity. I usually enter "rehab" at this point - otherwise known as Weight Watchers - but I just cannot deal with shelling out $60 a month to be mortified on a weekly basis. It used to be punishment enough to have to listen to the perky lady named Donna discuss how "totally awesome" a certain frozen meal was or watch Ricky get yet another star for losing five pounds. I did find it quite hysterical, though, as I sat in there one night with the iPod on and Collective Soul's song "Heavy" came on.

I'm a veteran of Weight Watchers. I attended my first meeting in 1977 when foods were "legal" and "illegal" and I've followed every program that has come down the pike since. What I've really primarly done is watched the weight go on, and have watched the weight come off. Oh, don't get me wrong. When I went to the meetings...there were very nice people there, mind you. And all of them were very into getting their weight off. I just felt like I had entered the Twilight Zone some weeks. I just couldn't handle all of that acceptance and support.

I don't want to be told that it is okay that I ate an entire box of fudge bars because they were only 2 points each. I also am not interested in coming up with strategies for dealing with holidays. I don't want a strategy...I want a new metabolism. I don't want to feel all mad at myself when the sweet lady weighed me and said "you'll do better next week..." when I knew that I had been all about that cheese dip at Ixtapa.

What I really needed was to go in and have to face a taser or something if I didn't lose weight. Or have some heavily armed personal trainer forcing me to exercise and reminding me to quit whining like a girl. I need THAT kind of know "scared straight." Oh, but no. I got sunshine and rainbows and the occasional coupon. What I needed was fear and loathing.

But I am hopefully back on the permanent road to recovery. I know this because I really, truly, honestly NEED to do this for myself. Before this was always to make other people happy. It is hard to pass up something you really like for someone else. You have to want to get it off...for YOU.

First of all, I've had to get a handle on portion size. My idea of a serving and what is shown on the box are two completely different animals. I tend to eat Jolly Green Giant sized bowl portions. What I need is to be eating more like a Smurf. I hadn't really realized how large my bowls were until I compared one of mine with one from my grandmother's house that she used frequently. Mine are nearly twice the size of hers. And I'm about twice the size I was when I lived in her house. Simple math.

I've also had to force myself to drink water all throughout the day instead of drinking it like I'm at some kind of MTV spring break chugging party. The first two days, I didn't drink much until after lunch...which showed up in the eight bathroom trips I made that afternoon. Two of them were during my aerobics class (yes, I left the room). I used to love water, but I've gotten a bit snobbish about my liquid intake here of late. I figured if I have to be miserable anyway...I may as well go for the full prisoner experience with the water...except that bread consumption is also so not happening.

Yes. No bread. I am eating potatoes and rice in moderation, but I'm afraid that if I get loose with some bread, I'll be off the wagon in no time. For some people...bread is bread. For me...bread is the gateway drug. I get into eating bread...and the next thing I know I'm bowing at the altar of the Pillsbury Doughboy. Not cool.

Sugar is also not my friend. It is actually easier to give up because I am using the Special K crutch. I knew that cereal with chocolate pieces in it would be totally awesome. It is. Other than my Special K, and coffee creamer, I am steering clear of sugar. I haven't started hallucinating yet...thankfully. Plus, since I sign my e-mails with "K"...I like the fact that the cereal box tells me I'm special. I don't hear that expressed nearly enough because I have kids.

I'm also weighing every week...and will be seeing the results. After the first OMG! moment a few weeks ago, I have come to embrace my inner linebacker. Next Tuesday I will get on the scale again and it had better register a weight loss of at least a kindergartener. (Just kidding...I'll settle for a newborn.)

Hope that I have good news to report next week. The exercise should help, as should getting through the first few days of eating normally. I'm there...and happy to be through it. You know...where you have to go to bed to keep yourself out of the kitchen. Yeah. I've also quit yelling at people and have pretty much gotten over myself. I even thought that the Lean Cuisine was excellent today. (That's disturbing, now that I think about it.)

Anyway, for those of you who have never struggled with your weight, I hope that you will eat better just to feel better. For those of you who are weight warriors, I hope that you slay the dragon. I'm right there with you. I'm also praying that God will continue to grant me the ability to stay out of the shackles of food addiction. He is able to do anything...including keeping me motivated. And for that...I'm willing to keep on fighting the battle of the bulge.

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