Breaking the 'Pound' Barrier

Today, June 30^, 2010, I stepped on my nemesis (aka the scale) and was surprised to read 275.2. I looked at it, studied it and thought, “There’s something different about those numbers.” My mind pondered, “5, 5, 5,” “Yes, it is the FIVE that it different! It says ‘275.2.’” Could it be true?! Am I actually seeing a 5 where just yesterday I read an 8?!! So being a person of great faith, I stepped on the scale 10 more times. And yes, it read 275.2--275.4--275.2--275.4--275.4--275.2 ad nauseum. And so I wondered, “Have I really done it? Have I lost FIFTY POUNDS?” I mean do I need to be at 275.0 to qualify? It was at that point when I realized, “I would have been happy with 275.9! Just to see that number 5!” And so I am taking the honor, glory, fame, and admiration! I have lost 50 big ones! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!! And despite the numbers going down, it has been a very UPHILL battle! But for the first time in a long time, I feel hope. I feel like I have been having a stare-down with my body and the body blinked! Sure, tomorrow I will weigh 276 or 277, but for one brief shining moment I was 275! Yeah!

Naturally, I am not going to be content with 275, I want MORE, MORE, MORE! I want 250!!! I want to be closer to 200 than 300! I want 225, a number I haven’t seen since 1991! And, of course, my Christmas present to myself is to weigh less than 200! Naturally, I expect disappointment, but it’s not going to stop me from being hopeful. My lap-band has truly given me that—HOPE! In previous attempts, my discouragement and despondency was so profound, I would literally throw my arms up in the air and grab anything to put in my mouth and show my body was who “boss”—It was! And so I binged and gained more weight. But now with the lap-band, I go through the same motion, but I can’t binge. It won’t let me and by the time I have calmed down, I thank the lap-band for giving me restraint and trudge on to figure out what I need to do next.

I am in the process of trying to find the perfect solution to my body, I am playing “mind games.” Is it the protein? Is it the grains? The vegetables? The fruits? The Lemonade Fast? The order, portion or proportion of food? Is it the mind, is it the body? What really keeps a body from letting go? What is a “set” level or “set point”? I’m still trying to find that “philosopher’s stone” that will turn fat into muscle and flabby into lean. It is the quest for the fountain of youth or the holy grail; to find that one great truth that makes everything fit, including a size 6!

But for today, I just went Mach 10! And I broke the pound barrier!

White Sugar--The Real Culprit

Years ago before I was married, I read William Duffy’s book, Sugar Blues. It was such an extraordinary book and it scared me so much that I didn’t eat sugar for almost a year. I still remember the opening story about Gloria Swanson “hissing,” “That stuff is poison, I won’t have it in my house, let alone my body.”

Several years later when I felt inherently that sugar was bad for me, and wanted another fix to get me off the stuff, I reread it, but it didn’t make half the impression as when I read it the first time. I thought of the famous quote by Alexander Pope:

Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,

As, to be hated, needs but to be seen;

Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,

We first endure, then pity, then embrace.

Intellectually, I knew sugar was not good for me, but I had become inured to its evils. I felt I would be a fanatic to drop white sugar from my life—I mean everyone eats it! Sugar is in everything! And so even though I wished, wanted, and yearned for a beautifully thin body, I wasn’t willing to give up any of my habits. I felt I could overeat with impunity, gobble up white bread and ice cream and somehow it would all work out. I felt a c-pap machine was the ticket, and then the lap-band was the answer, but they were all pieces to the puzzle. I counted calories and felt if I just ate fewer calories then things would come together and I would lose weight. But last week after visiting with the family of my daughter Stephanie’s former companion, Ashly Gross, I started to rethink. As they say, two crop failures and an imminent drought got the Smith family to move to Palmyra, a convert usually has ten to twenty contacts with the church before really listening to the gospel, and me, well, I looked at Ashly’s mom, Lori, and I thought, “Marilyn, you are either serious about losing weight or you aren’t.” Lori hadn’t eaten white sugar since 1996 and she looked fantastic. She wasn’t always that way, but her husband introduced her to eating well and she went from there. After our talk and visit, I thought, “Marilyn, you have always known sugar was bad for you.” As Lori said, ‘Sugar is just one step away from alcohol. It is an addiction.’” And so I decided to do an experiment. I would go for one day without eating anything with white sugar. That meant NO yogurt, NO skinny cow ice cream, NO chocolate covered acai-blueberries, nothing! Basically, I had an omelet, cottage cheese and pineapple, chicken and vegetables. I wasn’t giving up the fat and salt (the other two addictions that Rob often mentions as the triumvirate of what food manufacturers lace their products to win American appetites—sugar, fat and salt) just sugar.

You can imagine my surprise when after the first day, I lost two pounds and then Saturday night, another two pounds, so that today, Monday, June 21, 2010, I hit an all-time low for my weight since my lap-band, 276.0, I am one pound away from having lost 50 pounds! That is amazing! It’s a wonderful event because whenever I get within sniffing distance of 50, I hit the wall and now I believe I have found the “culprit.” Sugar! White, granulated, C&H sugar! I didn’t want to believe it and the question now will be, how long can I stay “on the wagon?”

Surprisingly, it has been easier than I thought. Before I would start craving things and then sampling things to figure out what it is I wanted. But now my grazing is pretty limited, in fact, what used to be “grazing” is now breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I don’t have that same rapacious thirst. And I definitely do not have the “stomach” to “stomach” it anymore.

My Gold’s Gym buddy, Laurie, tells me that whenever she goes on vacation, she eliminates sugar from her diet because she can’t exercise and invariably, upon her return she weighs less. When I was on my mission, I did Atkins, which I wouldn’t recommend to anyone, but I lost a lot of weight, and one of the premises is that you can’t eat sugar. I believe my body is allergic to sugar and when I eat it, instead of getting rashes or anaphylactic shock, I get fat. Some people can smoke and live to 100; others can drink without serious consequences, and others can eat sugar and it not be a problem, but I can’t. Just as a celiac has to avoid gluten like the plague, it is now evident to me that sugar is my nemesis. I once asked my friend who had hypoglycemia how he could forgo the donuts, brownies and other treats, and his response was, “The consequences are worse than the enjoyment.”

Life is a series of delayed gratification. Like the “Marshmallow Experiment” those children who could not wait to eat the marshmallow struggled later in life and had more behavioral problems, while those who waited tended to be more positive and better motivated, have higher grades and incomes, and have healthier relationships. Those children who were told the marshmallows were “yummy and chewy,” broke down in five minutes. But if they coolly thought of the marshmallows as “white puffy clouds” they could wait an average of thirteen minutes. Some children could wait almost eighteen minutes simply by pretending that the treat before them was a picture. In contrast a preschooler shown only a picture of a reward but asked to imagine that it was real lasted less than six minutes. Imagining the treat in all its proximate glory triggers an emotional response, while thinking about the reward in cool, distancing contemplative terms makes waiting easier.” (See Distracted, page 229)

So in order to overcome an addiction, I have to distance myself from the “drug.” I have to be cool and detached and look forward to the ultimate reward. A great tool has been the lap-band because it has given me the ability to think, think in a detached, calm manner. My object now is to strip away the glamour of chocolate and ice cream and calmly see them as the “vice,” the monster, the addiction that has controlled my life for lo, these many years. The journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step, and for me this is Day 6 of no sugar! I’ll just have to keep on walking.

How Many Times Do You Chew?

How many times do you chew your food before you swallow? This is a quiz! So leave a comment and let me know.

Chewing has never been my prime interest in “dining.” The object has been to get the food in the mouth and down the gullet as fast as possible, because somehow there was a belief growing up that if I didn’t eat it first someone else would get it and the goal was to eat something as fast and as much as I could so that someone else didn’t eat that last piece of pie or that last scoop of sherbet. However, since my lap-band I have discovered the new world of chewing. I chew approximately 28 times a bite. I have to chew it a lot because if I don’t, it will come back to haunt me! So when I am thinking—and that is the prime directive—I actually have to be thinking about my food, not mindlessly shoveling it in—about my eating and actually concentrating on what is the best thing I can do, it boils down to chewing. If I masticate something until it is basically liquid, it will flow nicely through my alimentary canal. However, if I forget about eating and just revert back to “the get it before it’s gone” mentality, then my lapband lets me know in its own charming way, that I made a BIG mistake! That “wake-up call” has really helped. It hasn’t lessened my desire to eat everything, but it has forced me to actually think about what I really, really, really want to eat.

In talking to my friend, Margy Rockenbeck, at the pool she told me about a book by Leonard Pearson, The Psychologist's Eat-Anything Diet, in which her friend, Dr. Pearson, who is a thin person, made a study of how people eat and the difference between thin and fat eaters. One of the things Margy said was, “Thin people are pretty discriminatory about their eating.” They can discriminate between their body asking for water or food, for sleep or exercise, between something sweet or something sour. They actually listen and can translate their bodies’ internal messages. Meaning that when their body says, “I want ice cream! Their bodies actually say, “I want Haagen Dazs’ amaretto almond crunch.” They are better able to understand and translate what their bodies are actually saying. Whereas I am a person where food goes good with anything. I mean, “Am I tired?” I should eat something so that I’ll be energized. “I’m sad.” Hmm, a subway should answer that problem. “I’m thirsty.” I know a good cheesecake that has raspberry drizzle on the top. Food is the be-all and I Ching of any question. Whereas Tom Hanks in You’ve Got Mail thinksThe Godfather has that spot, I am conditioned to believe that any problem or celebration goes better with food. Not just a discriminating haute cuisine, but a flat-out, fun-filled smorgasboard of delights! The more the merrier.

So yesterday as I was trying to “chug-a-lug” a shrimp salad, I was telling my friend, Elaine, the petite thin woman across the table, that it takes me forever to eat; I have to chew everything 28 times (like I wanted sympathy or something and I wanted her to say, “Oh you poor thing having to masticate for that long, it must be a terrible burden!) Instead she said, “Only 28 times! I chew my food 100 times a bite!” “Really!” I responded! “Yes, I was always the last one out to recess and eventually I just gave up finishing my food.” Now that is the difference between a fat and thin mentality. A fat person would NEVER leave his or her plate partially clad—that plate better be licked clean and totally naked! But Elaine just got up and left the food and went outside to play with her friends. Rob would think that was the better answer to “cafeteria food” but then he is thin whereas I paid “good money” (I think it was 35 cents) for that school lunch and I better eat every last bite. Rashid was sitting on the other side of Elaine and said, “I had to gobble the food down; I didn’t want to miss it. I eat fast.” It is important to know that although Rashid is thin, she is also from India where my mother was always encouraging me to think of the poor starving children in India and somehow my cleaning my plate would give Rashid more food—never figured that out! But I did clean my plate. So there we sat as Elaine chewed her food and told stories of wonder how anyone could eat a piece of steak in 4 or 5 bites. And I’m thinking, “Just a piece of steak, the whole 12 oz. steak could be inhaled in 4 to 5 bites!” So I end where I began—how many times do you chew your food?

Struggles, Stress, and Sabotage

My friend, Barbara, commented during our scrabble match, “You haven’t blogged in awhile.” And I admitted that my life had been under attack from various angles. First, my dishwasher blew up or as Rob puts it, “Someone let the smoke out.” There was a telltale burned scorch mark on the outside of the dishwasher and when he investigated, he discovered the guts of the circuit board had been fried. I can live without an oven, I can live without a cooktop stove, I can even live without a sink, but take away my dishwasher—and them’s fighting words!

So Rob said, “Guess you better do some research and see which dishwasher you would like.” Luckily, just a few weeks before I had been listening to my friend, Lori, sing the praises of her new dishwasher, a Whirlpool Gold GU3600XTVY, so I called her for the make and model. Her praise was so amazing, I immediately searched every store, dealership, and vender, I could find, and guess what, NO ONE HAD ONE! They were all on back order. Rob said, “As long as we are getting a dishwasher, we may as well get an oven to replace ours that goes ballistic every once in a while.” So for the past two months, I have been hunting for the best product and deal around. I called all my friends and asked them about their dishwashers. Rob wanted the same manufacturer so the appliances would look the same, but he was convinced that Whirlpool didn’t make ovens or at least if they did, they weren’t very good. So after calling my friends, copying pages out of consumer reports, and reading customer complaints and praises on the Internet, I passed on the Frigidaire and Kitchen-aid, and bought the Whirlpool Lori suggested at the beginning of my search from Frederick’s Appliance for the best deal--$500 for the dishwasher and $2000 for the oven, but they were both great deals, free delivery and free 2 year warranty.

Unfortunately, the oven was not on back order and so we got immediate delivery and because Rob was opposed to replacing our 24-inch oven with a 24-inch oven—it’s too small for the pans he bought me years ago and wanted to show me that his gift was very thoughtful--he insisted on getting at least a 27-inch built-in double oven. So since the 27- and 30-inch were the same price we went for the 30-inch double oven.

Getting a larger oven necessitated remodeling. Now, I don’t know about you, but somehow I started going through post traumatic stress meltdown when I have to work with Rob on any project but especially a kitchen project! Argh, that’s my home territory! And I knew that Rob would take forever, so how was I going to keep the wheels turning, the meals coming, and the clean-up going when my kitchen was torn up and in chaos? The first weekend, after Rob had taken all the cupboards and cabinets out and crowded them against the sink and cooktop and pushed the refrigerator against the cabinets blocking the entry way into the kitchen and making it impossible to open the fridge door, I said, “Darling, I can still reach the microwave. We can have Lean Cuisine frozen entrees or eat out at Las Margaritas!” When Jackie saw the pictures of our torn up kitchen, she said, “I guess you’re going out to Las Margaritas a lot!” But in truth, we only went out once (to celebrate Jackie’s birthday)—she couldn’t make it, so we celebrated her birthday with her in absentia.

During the time of the kitchen chaos, Alexa’s boyfriend, Brandon, came for a visit and that in itself was stressful, not his visit per se, but the gut feeling that this was an impending train wreck waiting to happen. As I struggled to keep myself calm, pleasant and understanding while my whole body is poised to attack like a mama bear protecting her cub, I realized that stress is not really a good thing when you want to lose weight. In fact, for some stress makes them lose weight, but for me, it is like a natural defense mechanism and the body will store fat forever! And so when I was in sniffing distance of my 50-pound weight loss goal, 1.4 pounds away, I hit the wall and whamo! Gained 5 pounds in 4 days! It has been ten days since that major debacle and I am proud to say I have lost .4 pounds in 10 days! That is the story of my life! I can work and exercise, diet and count calories, lift weights, and swim laps, but when my body says, “You ain’t going nowhere!” Nowhere is where I go!

On Tuesday, June 8th, I went back to see Dr. Clinch (we have a meeting every six weeks wherein he asks me how I’m doing). I explained to him that I hit that plateau of plateaus. I hit this plateau every single time I want to lose weight—WeightWatchers, FitDay.com, doctor-directed diets, whatever---I lose almost 50 pounds, like 2 or 3 pounds away from it and my body stops losing weight. It is the weirdest thing; however in diets past, I have been rabid! All I could think about was how hungry I was. Not literally, but mentally. As I said in my previous blogs, the voice of the siren was overpowering. I had to “jump ship” and run to the fridge and gorge. But now, the sirens are somewhat silenced and although my frustration level is high, I say, “Oh well, it’s a plateau, let’s see who can outwait whom!” The good thing is that lots of people are noticing I look thinner and have been commenting on it, so even though I am frustrated, I have decided that my body is in “tightening mode” and so I just keep on keeping on. The bad thing is that I am not losing weight. Dr. Clinch said, “It’s not the numbers on the scale; don’t focus on that. If you are going down dress sizes and losing inches, that’s what you should be happy about, I mean people don’t notice how much you weigh, but how you look.” (I am thinking, he is missing the power of the scale, I’m sorry, but when one is morbidly obese NUMBERS do matter!) Then I told him that I don’t understand it, I lift weights, work out on the cardio machines, swim laps, and count calories! And Dr. Clinch says, “Oh, well if you are lifting weights, you are gaining muscle and muscle weighs more than fat!” I WANTED TO SLAP HIM!!! I have been lifting weights for 3 years!!! But I didn’t slap him, I only smiled and said, “Yeah, right.”

So my struggling has caused me stress which in turn has made me want to sabotage myself. I think, “Why not treat yourself to a dark chocolate acai blueberry treat?” or “A delicious skinny cow chocolate/vanilla ice cream sandwich.” Albeit these foods are not as death-dealing to my diets, as others have been in the past, but they keep me away from seeing progress. Dr. Clinch told me to aim for 1000-1200 calories, and I’m thinking, “I carry around an extra 150 pounds, shouldn’t that count for something?” I mean when I was going to Weight Watchers the more you weighed the more points they allowed you because you were exercising every minute you stood up or walked. And then when you lost weight, you had to cut back on the number of points you could eat. So if I cut back from 1500 to 1200, does that mean when I have only 30 pounds to lose, I’ll be eating 400 calories?

At this point, I try to get an eternal perspective and come up with some great eternal truth. The fact of the matter is that sometimes despite our best efforts, things don’t work out the way we want them to or the way we have planned and that somehow even with the monkey wrench jammed into the machine, there is still something that defies our understanding. We feel like we should be able to make some sense out of the problem, but instead it makes no sense. That is how I feel. Why do I need to struggle to reach this goal? Why couldn’t I just eat less, exercise and lose weight on a consistent basis. Why do pounds stop dropping and things look like I am failing? The reason is that I need to look outside myself. Stop stressing. Forget myself, keep struggling and working out and keep at it. Persistence is the final push. It is enduring well, despite the discouragement and depression. It is overcoming the obstacles and still smiling. Losing weight has never been easy and being on a plateau is definitely the pits, but for now, it’s slow and steady wins the race despite how slowly the tortoise crawls, he eventually will cross the finish line as long as he keeps on going. I am discouraged, but not despondent; I am depressed, but not demoralized, I am disheartened, but I still have hope and that is finally the ultimate gift—HOPE! I hope you all keep on struggling, because in the end, the joy of the journey is in the doing!

Tightening and Thinning

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that before babies can grow they have to get fat. I have determined that the opposite must also hold true, before a person can “thin” they have to “tighten.” At present I am in uncharted territory. It has been at this plateau in my life where I throw up my hands and say, “I give up; I surrender to the constant message in my head.” If I am not going to lose weight, what is the point of “hanging in there!” In previous attempts I have lost 40 or so pounds and then it is like the entire system stops, breaks down, doesn’t move. I just sit at whatever weight I land on after losing 40-50 pounds and just circle around two or three numbers, going up and down one or two pounds for about 4 months, even though I am eating the same, exercising, and following the same regime I had when I started dieting. And yet, I just sit. It is always that this point that people come up to me and say, “Wow, I can tell you have lost weight!” How much?” they question?” And I am chagrined to say, “Nothing for the past month or so. “Well, you look great!” I feel like I am taking borrowed feathers because I haven’t lost anything, but now, since my mind isn’t screaming at me, I can think a little clearer and I think I am definitely “tightening” up the loose skin around my face, legs and arms and it is those changes that are quite visible. Hence the myriad of comments. So I am getting positive feedback, just not on the scale where I want it!

In some ways, we have microcosms of life or types and shadows if you will, where we get the message that “enduring to the end” is part of the great truths we have to learn. Not only to endure, but endure it well, cheerfully, upbeat and positively, so to speak. When things seem to “weigh” down on us, we have to stop mummuring and whining and “keep on trucking!” That was my mission motto, “keep on trucking,” i..e “keep on going” Keep up on keeping on! It all means the same, when things aren't progressing, you’re depressed, discouraged, keep on going through the night because there will be “joy in the morning.” Lose yourself in projects, in getting out of the box, in thinking of others, in lifting and lightening the load. Whatever it is, stop focusing on the negatives, accentuate the positives. There are so many clichés that obviously this is a universal message and a universal hope. My dad always said, “As long as you have health, you have everything. And if you don’t have health, you can always have hope.” Hope is the mainspring, the constant nourishing food, the hope, faith, belief that things will get better. If we can just get to the top of the hill, it will be downhill and we can rest. So, I just want you all to know that “I’m going to keep on going!

What is food? Really?

When I studied Latin in college, along with the language we studied the culture and I learned that Romans had not only dining areas but also a “vomitarium,” an adjacent room, where people threw up what they ate. Gluttony was in high form. Several years ago we had a Murder Mystery Party about the Titanic and wanting to be very authentic, I found a book that listed what the final meal was aboard the Titanic. After reading it, I thought “Titanic” was an apt name. I turned to my daughter, Stephanie, and said, “Well, after eating all that, it’s obvious why the ship sank!” But that was in the Edwardian days when eating was an event that you dressed for, had your hair coiffured, your body bejeweled, and your best manners “spit and polished!” There were established rules of conduct, specific courses with particular utensils, and a host of do’s and don’t’s. Dinner was a ballet--a pageant of colors and tastes for both the eyes and the palate. The more ornate and spectacular, the more your dinner parties were talked about and that was the object and goal of every aspiring woman of society—to have a dinner that knocked your socks off!

While watching Julie & Julia, I learned that Julia Child was trying to create a cookbook for the “servant-less American housewife.” And it crossed my mind that that was a turning point in our history. We felt we could do it all. We could cook the dinner, dress for dinner, serve the dinner, eat the dinner and clean up the mess. And these would not be the macaroni and cheese casseroles for the hoi polloi; no, these would be the Beef Wellington and Chicken Cordon Bleu dinners for the upwardly mobile Americans who had an inferiority complex about not being “noble-born.” We would show them, our dinners would rival the elite of Europe! Naturally, when women discovered that they couldn’t do it all, even with automatic dishwashers, bread makers, rice cookers, microwaves, and salad spinners—restaurants and McDonald’s, showed us how to eat. Unfortunately, instead of the home-grown vegetables and whole wheat bread, we got canned, processed, packaged, and partly hydrolyzed food. Selling the food became more important than whether the food was good for you or not. Businessmen needed a product that “you couldn’t eat just one.” They wanted a product that was classy and addictive, and so food became loaded with salt, sugar and fat. We won’t buy organic because it costs more and why should I buy one tomato at $1.99 a pound when I can buy 12 huge tomatoes for $5.99. Gluttony has always been a deadly sin, but it came out in force in the United States and we have become the fattest nation on earth and one of the nations who abhors it the most. So we have a love-hate relationship with food. We love to eat it, mounds and mounds of it, but we hate what it does to us. We want them to invent a food that gives us the feeling of fullness without any calories.

As babies our comfort was to be held AND fed, and somehow, it got into our psyches that if we wanted to feel safe, secure and happy, there better be food. No party is a party without food, even pity parties! And so food became my safe haven. I lived to eat! And I loved it. Now with my lapband, food no longer has that allure. I mean I love food, but because I’m limited I want something I really want, not something just to “fill the space, the time, the moment.” I find myself thinking and pondering more about what I truly want to eat and a lot of times it’s cottage cheese and pineapple. Sometimes it is raspberries and grapes, but usually it is my “New Whey Protein Drink.” An incredible find, only 3.4 ounces that has 42 grams of protein for only 180 calories, no fats, no carbs, just straight protein, and believe it, it tastes horrible! But I feel great when I have a day with over 100 grams of protein.

Unfortunately, the one food I can eat that would be better if I dropped from my diet is sugar, and nothing goes better with sugar that chocolate. I love the scene in Ever After where the “wicked” stepsister has the prince put a piece of chocolate in her mouth and she has this look of ecstasy and says, “Delicious!” I think there were a lot of women in the theatre rushing out to get some Junior Mints or Milk Duds! So chocolate is the one food that has no problem with a lap-band. In fact, if you are a candy-holic, then lap-bands aren’t for you. In talking to my friends, I have found that bread no longer has an allure for me, I can eat it; but it doesn’t like me very much. Before my lap-band, I never thought I would ever be able to give up bread—Bruce’s rolls, French bread, croissants. But, voila, is isn’t fun to eat bread!! And so when I eat, I have to ask myself, “What do I want to eat? What can I eat that will make me feel good? And feel satisfied.”

Last week, as I was getting the dinner for David and Rob ready to take the temple, I opted to just have a salad with shrimp. Alexa was packing it for me and she asked if she had put in enough shrimp and I said, “A little bit more for the guys, I’m fine with what you have.” And she said, “Are you sure there’s enough, Mom?” And I said, “Haven’t you noticed I can’t eat large amounts anymore?” And she said, “No, really?” And I said questioningly, “Yea, really?” “No, mom, I haven’t noticed that you can only eat two bites of something, that you only fill your plate with about one-half cup of food, No MOM, I haven’t noticed! Of course I have noticed!”

It is very interesting to me. What I think a portion is, now. Before my plate was bulging with food, now I take one large tablespoon each of salad, fresh fruit and scrambled eggs, and sit down and Alexa says, “Are you going to be able to eat that, Mom?” And I say, “No, but I want the visual and I’ll give you the plate when I’m finished.” And 40 minutes later, she finishes it off. Last Sunday, we drove up to Ferndale to watch the temple dedication and afterwards, I invited Bruce and his family to eat the chicken-salad filled croissants I had made. I made one for everyone, including myself and Rob looked at me and said, “You’re not going to be able to eat that.” And I said, “I know, but I like to think I could.” So three bites later, I passed it back to David to finish it off.

So what has a lap-band done for me. It’s taught me what a portion size is, and you know what, it is LOT smaller than most people think. I go to restaurants and the sizes are over the top. About twenty minutes into the meal, I look around at everyone’s plates and they are all empty while mine is still 90% full. In some ways I’ve gone back to the Edwardian time where you ate one course, and then another, but the serving sizes were very small, and people took a long time to eat, talk and converse—I mean those corsets were the external lap-band! But for the future, it will be interesting to see how long the wedding feast will be and how much, but for sure, all will be filled and there will be enough and to spare whether it is two fish and five loaves or twelve baskets.

Setpoints and Setbacks!

I just returned from a trip to Utah where I watched my “honorary adopted” daughter, Virginia, be married to her prince, Scott Richins. I also used this time to visit my mom and sister and some friends. It was a good time and I went to the gym 5 out of the 7 days I was there. I wanted to eat healthy and well and when I returned home, I had my first opportunity to step on the scale and see what had occurred. I was shocked, surprised and delighted to see the scale read 281.0 I couldn’t believe it! I had to weigh myself FOUR more times just to verify its accuracy. 6.6 pounds in 7 days! I was elated, jumping up and down. I LOST WEIGHT on VACATION! Could anything be better, “I submit it cannot”! Today I stepped on the scale again and read 283.0. I was blown away! How could I have gained two pounds in one day when I only ate 1448 calories and exercised for almost two hours for 901 calories spent (according to Fitday.com, of course, but what do they know). But there it was--two pounds up! Why? Why???? Why!!!!! Water retention? Muscle gain? What?

Here again, the almighty scale is pre-dominant in my thoughts. Again, I try to figure out what is going on. I should relax and be happy. I mean originally I only wanted to weigh 290 by the end of March, and then 285, I would have been very happy, but by dangling 281 in front of me, I found myself unsatisfied for the 283. This is so much of a game of cat and mouse. I think I’ve got the problem solved and licked, and it comes back to bite me in the foot. My emotions are intertwined with the scale. It doesn’t matter how many people come up and tell me that I’m looking great, that they can see I’ve lost weight, etc. I want validation from the numbers! Today a woman I don’t ever remember seeing came up to me and said, “I’ve been watching you for three years and I just want you to know I can tell you have lost weight.” “Three years,” I thought, “She couldn’t have said that unless she knew I have been going to the gym for three years.” The tragedy is that I weigh what I weighed when I started at the gym. I had gained 40+ pounds and I finally had lost it. In another ten pounds I will be at my lowest point in the past 10 years, and then as each new set-point is reached, I will say, the last time I weighed this was 1997 or 1991 or 1985. The numbers are a carrot being dangled in front of me.

I started this blog the first week of April and here it is the day after taxes and I still haven’t finished it. I went to the gym this morning and watched Julie & Julia and it was so mesmerizing that I had to work out for 35 minutes on my favorite bouncy elliptical, 35 minutes on the bike and 35 minutes on the treadmill and finished off the total 123 minute movie in the women’s locker room changing into my swimsuit. It was wonderful. I was right there with her making Lobster Thermidor and Boeuf Bourguignon and tasting the raspberry crème and thinking this is wonderful, this is grand, this is life! I couldn’t help feeling like Julie, an unpublished writer, who is trying to define and find herself and does it through food. I thought maybe I would define myself by “not eating food.” And write about my experiences of losing weight, but I realized another interesting component in the movie and that is the crucial difference between a fat and thin person. “Self-absorption.” Not saying thin people can’t be compassionate, caring, and nurturing, nor that fat people aren’t selfish and narcissistic, but it was the original reason a blog had a little or no interest to me. Writing about me all the time is overwhelmingly shallow and uninteresting! Talking about the frustrations of being fat and trying to lose weight is even more tedious! At least I think it is!
But there is so much more and so many more ideas that come to me when I ponder how I got to this point and what I am learning from it and then I wonder, “What’s the point of writing?” And I realize it is somewhat cathartic, but it also enables me to verbalize and visualize my angst as I’m going through this becoming a new person.

Many people when they lose weight all of sudden have lots of people acknowledging them and admiring them and they get hurt because they feel, “I was always inside here, why didn’t anyone notice me?” The problem was they noticed the fat person and all they could see was the fat. “She’s so fat” jokes and all kidding aside, being obese is seen as a crime. People look at obese people and think, “How did she ever get so fat!” “How can she stand to be seen in a swimsuit!” “Doesn’t she know her clothes are bursting at the seams?” “Why doesn’t she lose weight!” “Why is she eating chocolate!” It’s like a fat person is “weighed” in the balance, tried, convicted and sentenced among a group of her thin peers and we ALL do it! I am just as guilty as the next person of condemning a person for being fat! I used to dream of being Tongan where fat is seen as a sign of wealth and status, or in a Rubens painting—now there are some voluptuous curves. But try as we might to see fat as positive, we live in a world where even the most beautiful women are “air-touched” and enhanced to look more thin and beautiful, and so we all have self-hate issues, where we look at our physical features and condemn then for not being perfect.
For the past several years I have made it a practice to see people, really see them. I think it was after reading The Anatomy of Peace and Leadership and Self-Deception and the desire to be “out of the box.” In the Anatomy of Peace they talk about I-It and I-Thou and I guess I skimmed over it and didn’t really read it the first time, but this last week as I was reading it again, it struck a responsive chord. I realized that many, many times I see people as annoyances to my personal space. For example, I am planning on going in the hot tub for a final “massage” and comfort spot and voila someone steps in the tub just when I wanted to and I think, “Get out, I want it all to myself!” But then I think, “Okay, Marilyn, let’s really see this person and listen to his or her story.” And you know what? Every single time I have done this, I have been so grateful for the connecting with another human being and my heart has been softened. It is literally amazing to me.

Recently, I decided to make an effort to talk to a man I watch almost every day coming into the pool. He seemed very self-absorbed and into himself and so I started talking to him and he immediately warmed up and smiled. I discovered that he is from the Ukraine and can barely speak English and now every time I come to the pool and see him, he smiles a huge smile at me and waves. And I think there was a very lonely man who everyone ignored and now he has a friend. Will the scale ever be my friend? Doubtful. Will I ever be able to look at a weigh fluctuation and not get depressed? Not likely! No-“I-Thee” there, the scale is definitely an I-IT!!