Vindauga

Knock, knock, knock

It's me, the Jehovah's Witness of eliminating simple carbs, coming around again.

It's been 6 weeks. It's still easy, still working. I feel better, I feel in control of my eating. This is how in control I am

• I made an apple pie, and didn't have a nibble. I wasn't even tempted. I almost absentmindedly  put some pie dough in my mouth before going "wait!" and walking away.
• I served birthday cake. Even licked my fingers to get frosting off. Again, nothing.
• I sat next to Krispy Kremes, Costco muffins, cheesecake, and carrot cake all at different meetings and celebrations. Dude, it didn't bother me.
• Easter. I passed up potatoes, sweet potatoes covered in marshmallows, and oreo pie. I felt content and really didn't give it a second thought except for marveling internally at how easy it was to pass the dish. 

I do feel in control enough that if there is something sometime I really want, I think I will be able to have a serving and get back on the band wagon. I haven't met that food yet.

Now, I'm really trying to get the kids to drastically cut back on the processed, simple stuff they eat. I'd rather have them discover control and feeling great now, then struggle into adulthood.

Mallory's response "I'd rather die young and eat Cheezits." 

So we've got some work to do here.

 

Because I've Become Like a Jehovah's Witness for Weight Loss

I want to knock on all your doors, and say " Have you heard about Jesus, er, I mean, simple carbs?"

I'm reading stuff on nutrtion all the damn time. It's like when you want to get pregnant and everywhere you look are pregnant women and babies. Everywhere I turn there is something that makes sense to me and reinforces the ideas that I've been developing for years and all the sudden went pow.

First off, did you see 60 Minutes last night? Also watch the follow up.

This is a REALLY long article from the New York Times. I find the physiology of our bodies really interesting, so I loved reading the whole thing, but for those that don't want to, here is the money shot for me; we need more protein and fat and less sugar. I haven't gone full Atkins or Paleo here (still using the Jehovah's Witness analogy, I'm not asking you to be a Scientologist, just maybe a Unitarian, dipping your toe in the no processed food baptismal font. I don't want to go full tilt boogie into a vat of bacon yet).

I had some blood work done in February, about two weeks before I started to change my eating. Everything was good; cholesterol, triglycerides, glucose, blood pressure. I did some fist pumping and said "Hell, yes! Even clinically obese, I'm healthy!" I need to raise my good cholesterol but everything else is good. I'm getting blood work done on Wednesday for work. I'm really anxious to see if the last month has made any changes.

It's still easy. It's still amazing. How am I 48 years old and finally having this stuff click? I'm really hoping this isn't just because it's shiny and new. I hope three months from now you don't find me putting on sun glasses and heading to Wendy's for a Big Dave's Deluxe with a 48 oz soda and a side of guilt.

My children are supportive. Kind of. Until we get to the store and they ask for Oreos and I say "I'm not buying that shit."  I want to teach them to eat better than I have in my life, and figure they get plenty of crap outside my house, I don't need to provide it. I bought junk food rarely before, but I'm just not going to do it anymore.Though I am going to make homemade mac and cheese on Friday, followed up with an apple pie because they've asked for it. I'll do treats sometimes, just with more thought.

 

Move it, move it

So, I feel like I have the eating under control, even though it's been less than a month. Dudes, no one is more shocked than I am. I'm eating healthy and am not plagued with visions of pie or french fries, or both. Though I feel like it's alcohol for me, if I ate one piece of pie or a handful of french fries I'd be off the wagon and headed for anything I could eat. So it's under control, but it's not perfect. I don't miss the crap, but I'm not tempting fate.

The piece that is still a work in progress is exercise. I know it means more to me now than losing a few pounds. It means that I might be able to better fight disease. It means I can participate in life more fully. It means I'll feel better. Hopefully, a smaller ass will be a side benefit.

My epiphany about movement came in the form of a New York Times article. It's not really new information, I know 10,000 steps is ideal. I didn't know that even getting half of that was kind of a challenge. I also didn't know about the benefits besides disease prevention through weight loss. I didn't realize that more movement controlled controlled blood sugar spikes. If I move more, I crave less food. It's beautiful, but it's still a challenge. I'm trying to be patient and kick myself in the ass at the same time. I bought a running jacket (!) and a pedometer (!!).  I'm trying to incorporate more movement in my day, not just specialized fitness. I figure even doing the laundry and sweeping is better than sitting on my ass.

One of my goals is to be able to hike up the short hill by my house without stopping to admire the view (while heaving and saying "god, I hate this").  Another is that the girls and I want to do the Color Run, and actually run it. It's only a 5K and it sounds really fun. Good mother-daughter bonding.

On Food and Weight

I don't remember if I've written much on weight the last seven years since I've been blogging (Yes. Seven. Years). Maybe a time or two. I really consider diet and weight a private issue. I've spent most of my life being judged and feeling judged about how big my ass is or isn't. I consider my body my business and am always kind of boggled when people are more concerned with my body image than I am. I'm content for the most part. That's why when I write about food, I share recipes instead of diet tips.

I've lost a large amount of weight (30 to 50 lbs.) three times in my life. Two of the times I was starving and totally obsessed with food and what I weighed every minute of the day and what went into my mouth and what didn't. I gained the weight back and more even though I had infinite amounts of willpower for several months. In the end, my body fought to gain the weight back with a ferocity that brought not only the pounds I lost but more. This is the phenomenon that happens to most of us that lose weight.

The third time, I lost weight nearly effortlessly. I had braces which made eating uncomfortable for two years. Around the same time, there was more chaos in my extended family than I knew could exist. There were days that my life was a cross between Cops, Intervention and Judge Judy. When I'm upset I can't eat. I just didn't feel like eating. Ever.  It was easy to lose weight. Then my family incosidrably straightened out their life somewhat. The fat cells again screamed to be fed and my appetite returned. That was roughly seven years ago.

Since then, I've basically stayed away from any kind of dieting not having faith in any kind of long-term maintenance and not willing to be obsessed with food just to fall again.

Last summer I joined a corporate wellness program and half-heartedly made an attempt to lose some weight. I lost a little, didn't reach my goal, but learned some things. Number one, when I had dieted before I hadn't been eating enough. Eating more food actually helped my weight loss rather than hindered it. I also discovered a new way to journal food that worked much better for me. I log-in to MyFitnessPal every morning and night. I put in what I ate and it tracks calories, protien, fat for me.  It's actually made me think of my eating in terms of fueling my body rather than losing weight. It also keeps me more honest, I no longer underestimate the caloric content of what I'm eating. There are days when I realize I need to eat a piece of fruit or some cheese so my body won't shut down and think I'm starving and put my hunger in overdrive.  I lost roughly 15 lbs, and kept 10 of it off for six months.

Since completeing that program, I've kicked around doing nothing, increasing my activity and/or changing my food. None of it seemed terribly motivating. Mac and cheese seemed motivating.

I work in the health industry now, so I'm somewhat conscious every day of not only the appearance of  being overweight, but also the health consequnces. So I make promises that I will do this or that and do nothing.

I don't really believe in a diet or food plan. I've done several, read several over the years. I believe in common sense and know my common sense may not be yours. I know what's healthy and sometimes I do that and just eat too much, and sometimes I ignore what's healthy.

Then two weeks ago I decided I wanted to make a couple of small changes. I've never eaten much meat. I don't like it. I've suspected that fact led to some tiredness due to lack of protien. So I added a poached egg every morning. This was also a big step, because I rarely eat breakfast. It takes 10 minutes from cooking to plate in the dishwasher and I feel so much better.  I eat 3 to 4 pieces of fruit during the day. Sometime I have string cheese or yogurt. I may eat a very small helping of a leftover or vegtable for lunch. For dinner I have chicken or fish, salad and vegtables. Rarely I throw in whole wheat pasta or brown rice (like 3 times in 14 days). 

Guess what? I'm not hungry. I don't obsess about food. And without realizing it, I've given up processed food, most flour and sugar and a lot of fat. I feel really good. I've excercised more. My goal is to sweat twice a week. I hope to add more days. Right now I climb up the steep hill by my house that makes heart beat fast and illicits new swear words. I'm proud of myself when I get to the top and I have a lovely view. 

I have lost weight. Five pounds the first week, and one pound the second.

Amazing huh ? Eat simple. Move a little. Feel better.

I should write a damn book.

 

Short Stories

Mas is studying Lewis & Clark in school.  His specific interest in this study is Meriwether Lewis's dog, Seaman. Now, this isn't my first time at the rodeo. This is my fourth kid.  This big old Newfoundland's name has come out of many a child's lips in my household. I've learned to keep it together and not go to my inner 14 year-old boy every time we have a conversation.

So Mason tell's me he is studying Seaman. I tell him that's great. I recount that I love that they have a dog and it's one of my favorite parts of the story about their journey.

One day we're on a long car ride. It's quiet. Mas, seizing the quiet as a moment not to be interrupted begins chattering about school. Bert answers "yes" and "no" and "uh-huh" in a monotone, distracted father of four kind of way. 

Then Mas says "And Dad, Mom says she loves Seaman."

Suddenly all three girls are awake and laughing hard.

Then Bert answers, "Um, that's not my experience."

Swells of laughter are punctuated with "Ewww, Dad."

***

Mas has always wanted a pet of his own. Never mind the fact that sometimes we've had as many as six pets in the house. None were "his".  So one day when I was distracted (reading Twitter maybe) or drunk (after Happy Hour likely) he got me when I was vulnerable and asked if he could have a dog.  I said "Yeah, sure. When you're 12."  It was said in that non-committal way that I tell my kids they'd make a great astronaut or that Taylor Swift is an insightful songwriter. It carried no weight, okay.

Well, that was five years ago and Mas took it to heart. I constantly have to endure conversations about what kind of dog I think best when he's 12. "Stuffed" is not the answer he is looking for, apparently. Chihuahuas and Great Danes both seem to be high on his wish list.

The other night at dinner he announced that he was going to have a Newfoundland. And... he wants to name the dog, Seaman.

The three teenage girls lose it. Dinner is over. We've dissolved into the moment when Tim Conway cracks Harvey Korman up in the sketch. Keeping it together is no longer an option.

The girls start to anticipate all the awkward times calling the dog.

"Has anyone seen my Seaman?"

"Damn, there is Seaman on my shoe again."

"The cat has gone crazy on Seaman."

Mas is still oblivious. We haven't told him the inherent humor in the word yet. We're going to do it this summer when he isn't in school. Otherwise, he'll spend the rest of the school year enlightening his class every time his teacher speaks about the dog.

When we were all laughing about it, Rory wondered if members of the Corp of Discovery teetered about the unfortunate name choice every time the canine was called. She speculated that if they did, Sacajawea rolled her eyes and shook her head.