My Little House

This weekend, my blog came up in conversation a couple of times.  (Let's not get into what kind of boring conversations that I dabble in that my blog is a hot topic.)  It made me think about my writing and I took a look at my recent posts.  I couldn't find any.  I realized that I have hardly been posting at all.  I've only posted once on this blog since the beginning of August.  I haven't written anything on my Darth Fatso blog since July.  I haven't even been keeping up with my Fantasy Football League blog - and I usually don't give up on that until the middle of the season.  I know that every so often I do one of these examinations and, for a while, I'll get more motivated.  But this time, something is different.

Something has been going on with me for a while - and I'm not entirely sure what to do about it.  It isn't exactly the same as the depression that I battled back in Tallahassee.  But there are some elements of that. I have hesitated to write much about it.  It is kind of personal and hard to just put out that for all three of you to read.  I remember, though, that other people have benefitted from me exploring my mistakes and stupidity in years past.  As the Demotivators poster states so eloquently, "It may be your life is merely to serve as a warning sign to others."  Shoot, my entire Darth Fatso blog is basically a giant therapy session. In addition, from some things I have heard from friends lately, I'm not the only one feeling like this.

I have developed a theory.  Well, its more like an extended metaphor.  Each one of us is like a little house.  As we grow up, our house changes to reflect our personality.  We plant little flowers and paint the outside like our favorite teams.  We hang banners and put garden gnomes out front.  It isn't much, but it is kind of who we are.  As time goes along, the people in our lives visit the house.  Some of these people make our house a little nicer.  Maybe they bring a nice potted plant when they come over.  Those people also can hurt our house.  They can bust out a window or smash into the wall.  They can peel the paint and rip up the garden.  Unfortunately, it seems like there are more people who fall into this second category.  More people are in the demolition business than the home restoration industry.

Those hurts are very real and have wide ranging effects.  As a child, we may hear from a parent, "Pardon me, sir, but apparently you think you are talking to someone who gives a s---," when you tell them a story.  Or someone may tell our friends, "Just nod and smile and eventually he'll stop talking."  That begins to make us feel like no one wants to hear what we have to say.  We start to wonder if everyone feels that way, which makes us pull away and worry that when we try to talk to someone they won't really care.  We may be ridiculed for being fat and unathletic.  It is combined with the way society treats and views overweight people.  Mix in constant rejection by the opposite sex.  A person starts to feel worthless.

"You're wasting your talents doing something like that instead of earning big money."  That means that unless you earn enough you are a failure.  "Why did you get the B?"  That means that even bringing home A's for years and being valedictorian isn't enough.  Perfection is the only way to get approval.  When doctors tell you that you that it is all in your head, rather than find out what is wrong, you begin to lose faith in doctors.  You feel you have to prove your injury for anyone to believe it - or that it needs to be really severe to deserve attention.  We all have these things happen to us.  Words, actions, attitudes.  They pierce us and wreck havoc on our house.  Soon, we learn that the way to survive this damage is to protect ourselves.

We build false walls all around our little house.  We plant huge hedges.  We construct a corn maze around our property.  We add giant decorative topiary in the shapes of our favorite animated characters.  In my life, I built these all around me.  I developed a very sarcastic way of speaking.  I was able to be brutal and cutting and disguise it as jokes.  I because extremely judgmental.  I felt that I was better than other people because I was smarter or more spiritually discerning or whatever.  I was completely oblivious to the fact that it was because I felt so inferior.  I would walk into a room and look around.  I saw the guys who were better looking than me or more fit than me.  I saw the girls who were too good for me.  There would be people who were more outgoing and socially comfortable.  I felt like a loser.  Over time, I started to find what made me feel better - my smarts, my Bible knowledge, my sense of humor.  Eventually, I started walking into a room and assuming I was the smartest in there.  Worse still, I would judge the others for it.

I turned to food as a solace.  Some of that was because that was one of the few things my father and I could relate about.  But a lot of it was a comfort.  I would when I was sad.  I would eat when I was happy.  I would eat when I didn't know what I felt like.  I found foods that made me feel good and soon reduced my diet almost exclusively to those things.  McDonald's burgers, Miami Subs steak subs, mozzarella sticks, desserts, soda.  And lots of pizza.

Even with all of those protective measures, sometimes pain would get through.  There were people who could still fire an attack that went all the way through the walls, the hedges, the Elmo shaped tree.  THOSE wounds were far worse.  They would cause more overreaction, more protection.  And those levels of defense often included pulling away from those people or becoming very angry or refusing to forgive them.  Bitterness sets in.  That poisons our relationships with everyone - making us even quicker to judge and slower to get over it.  That is where I found myself.

The last thirty months or so have been the most tumultuous of my life.  I have gone from working full time to being a stay at home dad.  I have lost 100 pounds and completely changed my eating habits.  We have gone through the most trying financial stretch of our lives (which is really saying something).  My rheumatoid arthritis flared up worse than it ever has been.  Heather's grandparents passed away - two people I had grown very close to.  I went through deep bouts of loneliness and depression.  I began to notice just how damaging my temper and sarcastic words were.  I heard my children repeating my comments and saw them copying my behaviors.  That forced me to change.  The solitude led to much self-examination and chances to work on my shortcomings. Through all of that, I have found that many of these walls and hedges and decorative foliage have been torn down.  My unhealthy coping mechanisms have been disrupted.

I have gone back to several people I hurt over the years and apologized for my behaviors and comments.  Recently, I went to someone and worked to repair our relationship.  I had said things that had hurt him and he had done things that had hurt people close to me.  At the end of the conversation, I felt completely different.  A huge weight had lifted off of me.  I had been carrying that anger and lack of forgiveness for years.  But, more than weight, it was almost as if I had seen a massive wall torn down.  And for the first time in decades, I saw my little house again.  It was battered and damaged.  And that terrified me.

As all of those protective coverings disappeared, I began to feel raw and vulnerable.  Things that didn't use to bother me hurt me now.  I got overwhelmed by the things I had to do.  Just trying to look at daily chores, work responsibilities, upcoming events seemed to cause a meltdown.  Last Sunday, I just sat on the couch and cried for what seemed like forever.  My head hurt and it felt like I busted a blood vessel in my eye.  The next day, my eyeball itched and burned all day.  All week I felt a little disoriented and weak.  Last night, something as simple as forgetting to cut the onions for on the grill started me crying.  It is an uncomfortable place to be.  I don't like it.  Of course, I am worried that people are going to judge me or call me a wuss.

The simple fact is that I have absolutely no idea how to function as myself.  At the age of 37, I am trying to learn how to respond to people, events, words, actions in a healthy way.  I don't want to go back to developing those protective behaviors - but I need to find a way to be less sensitive.  I can't retreat into the person I was before.  But I really don't know what to do with the person I am now.  For so many years, I lived in the corn mazes and solariums I had built.  I don't know how to live in my little house.  I never really had taken stock of it to see just how much damage had been done.  I don't think I really had even dealt with all of it.  I think that I had been so good at deflecting and distracting that I distracted myself.  I don't know if I ever really forgave my dad because I never really knew just how much he hurt me.  And I have been so busy hurting other people for the last couple decades that I never saw how hurt I was.  I've been wrestling with so much guilt about my bad actions and behaviors.  And now that I am reaching the end of that list of wronged souls, the last name on it is mine.

I know that you may not buy into all of this.  You may write it off a psycho babble - something I certainly believed for many years.  For me, though, it is very real.  It is still very new.  The fact is, I never really liked the person I had become.  I didn't like being arrogant and entitled and superior.  I don't much like this person either, though it is for different reasons.  I don't like him because I don't know how to control him.  I don't know how to function and succeed without dipping into my old bag of tricks.  I don't like the pain and turmoil.  But I'm not going back.  I have worked too hard and come too far to not see it through.  I know I have a lot of work to do, but it will be worth it.

In that conversation I mentioned, my friend said something profound.  We were talking about the process of breaking bad habits.  He said, "It certainly isn't easy.  It is extremely hard.  But so is losing 100 pounds.  And you did that. How much worse can this be?"  The essential truth to all of this is that I am not doing it alone.  I didn't lose that weight alone.  God gave me the strength, and He will do it again.  And I have a wife and family that loves me and supports me.  I have friends who genuinely care about me.  These people have seen through the fences and ivy and seen that little house.  And they love IT.  They love who I really am.  And they want to see me figure this out.  They can't wait to come visit the place when I'm done.

So as far as the blog goes, I'm sure I will get back to things eventually.  It won't be too long until I'm back to writing about UCF's ridiculous ability to get to the next level in sports or examining if the failure of green superheroes to capture the public's affection has something to do with the color itself.  And it won't be long until you are sighing and longing for the days when I was forgetting to write.  But for now, I have a little work to do.  Things are under construction.  I hope you'll like the renovations.

Anxious

We've been back in Orlando for less than a month now.  My weight has managed to stay pretty much the same.  Every time I've weighed, the scale has registered 257 and change.  That's actually a little lower than it was my last weigh-in in Tallahassee.  So, I'm pretty happy with that.  I've found decent places to eat that work with my guidelines.  There are several yogurt places available.  And I have discovered the deliciousness that is Greek food.  PLUS, tomorrow I am going to go hit the Food Truck Bazaar at the Oviedo Mall.  Yay!

But, being completely honest, things have not all been rosy.  It has been very strange going from a place where I was largely isolated to a place where I am surrounded by people I know.  That was one of the things that I was most looking forward to about coming back to Orlando.  But, it actually has been a very difficult adjustment.  I spent two years where I didn't have a lot of interaction with other adults.  When I got back, I actually started to feel pressured and stressed about keeping up with everyone.  I knew there were a lot of people who wanted to see us - people to be invited over for dinner, play dates to make, work to do.  The change in status seemed to trigger some kind of latent anxiety.  I found myself frequently overwhelmed by social settings.  It was weird - the very thing I wanted was causing a lot of stress.

How does this fit into my weight loss and food battle blog?

I didn't know either.  Then Heather started her rotation at the family medicine doctor she was assigned to (another new experience that caused new stresses).  Heather and the doctor were talking about patients who had lost a lot of weight through surgery.  The doctor explained that these people frequently would experience intense anxiety in social settings - they would feel judged and insecure.  You would think that someone who had just had such an amazing life change happen would be thrilled to be seen and interact with people.  But, instead, it would be a horribly unpleasant experience.

The doctor went on to explain that what had happened was that food usually was where these people would turn when they were stressed out.  But, now, they didn't have that as an option any more.  Their coping mechanisms for stressful situations before was food.  Now, the stress just would crash down without any relief.  When Heather told me about that in the car this afternoon, it was quite a revelation.  I thought back through and could see where my body just didn't know what to do.  Even today, I was unraveling with the kids and shopping and everything.  We came back home to drop something off and as I walked into the house, my mind said, "Go eat those cupcakes.  It will help."  (I didn't eat them.)  And I have been craving chocolate for the last week like I was pregnant.

It makes sense.  An alcoholic who doesn't have drinking to turn to any more has to find other ways to help himself function.  The same goes for a food addict.  I remember there was an episode of "Friends" where Monica was dating a guy named "Fun Bobby."  The gang noticed how much he was drinking and confronted him about his alcohol problem.  As the episode went on, Bobby stopped drinking.  And he soon became boring, depressing, ridiculous Bobby.  It is a similar kind of situation.  All the insecurity and stress that usually was coursing through my mind was kind of hidden by food.  I would turn to yummy food - especially at parties.  That would give me a steady stream of happiness.  I distinctly remember eating a LOT at parties over the years.  The finger foods and appetizers that usually would be on display at these gatherings were perfect cover.  People rarely could keep track of what you actually were consuming.

The other thing the doctor told Heather is that depression and anxiety play out differently in men and women.  Traditionally, women will get weepy and teary.  Guys will get irritable and short tempered.  I would be a liar or an idiot to not admit that I have been both of those things in the last month.  It really is amazing just how much damage I caused myself with food.  If hadn't used that as a crutch for so long, I would have learned much healthier ways to deal with issues.  But now, at 37 years old, I have to learn all over again how to handle things.

I get so worried that I am going to let someone down or they are going to be upset with me.  I worry that when I reach out to people they don't really want me around - that I'm bothering them.  I remember feeling that way back in high school.  But it hasn't been this bad in a long time.  Even people who are my closest friends, I worry that they get tired of me and wish I would just go away.  It becomes a supreme effort to make a phone call or send a text message or email.  And when those are not responded to, then it just feels like my concerns were validated.  "See?  They don't like you."

I have said several times to people that I am not the same person I was when I left for Tallahassee.  It really is true.  Part of it is that I'm almost 30% smaller than I was and I eat differently.  But I approach life differently.  I handle situations differently.  I have different priorities.  And, as I am realizing, those are not all for the better.  It is a new struggle for me to face.  This time, though, it will have to be without that old cheese stick crutch.

Banana Bread Bomb

Good grief - I haven't posted on here for over a month...

If I was under any delusion that I had overcome my more severe food addictions, the last few weeks - especially Saturday - has proven that wrong beyond a shadow of a doubt.  I have been maintaining my weight loss very well over the last five months.  I still have had my basic "fences" up - no flour, no cheese, no baked goods, no pizza, no pasta, no breakfast meats or sandwiches.  But I have been experimenting on how I can effectively make this into a lifestyle of food management.

• I have taken up drinking coffee.  I have enjoyed the experience of trying different kinds of beans, flavors of syrup and creamer, and hot/cold options.  One surprising side effect was that it drastically cut down on my frozen yogurt consumption.  I read an article the other day saying how having some sort of sweet food after meals really helps to show your body it is "done eating."  Yogurt had always served that purpose for me at the end of the day.  But, with intermittent sweet things like coffee during the day, I have found that I haven't needed that closing dessert.  Plus, the combined caloric intake from my three cups of coffee is less than my one bowl of fro-yo.  That is, until Starbucks brought out the Mocha Coconut Frapaccinos and put them on half price.
• I have almost completely switched to ground turkey at the house.  We never really buy red meat any more.  And, unless it is in something we order out, we don't eat red meat at all.  I never liked ground turkey much.  It was too dry and flavorless.  Then I discovered how to cook it.  And I found out that it was cheaper than ground beef at Costco.  So the switch is on.  Honestly, I don't think we've bought red meat at our house for six weeks now.  And I don't hear anyone complaining.
• Around Easter, Publix ran a BOGO special on Dove chocolate.  I am NOT a chocolate fanatic like my mom or Gabe or my friend, Benji.  I like chocolate fine.  But I am usually good eating one piece of dark chocolate.  I got two bags of the Dove Promises and had one or two a day.  I nursed those bags for over a month.  I felt this wasn't a problem because chocolate has never been a problem for me to leave alone - and it served that same purpose I mentioned the coffee served.
• I have been trying different dips during this whole experience.  I was surprised to discover that I really enjoy guacamole and hummus - especially Sabra's spinach artichoke version.  Plus, I found Riceworks brown rice chips.  In the afternoon, I'll eat a handful of chips dipped in the hummus.  When we go to a Mexican place, I allowed myself some tortilla chips with salsa and guac.  This was something I had stayed away from for months.  But I started to allow it - making the argument with myself that it was corn and not wheat flour.  (Shaky argument, at best, I realize.)  This is where things started to get messy.  

Corn is a weird food.  It is a vegetable, but when a person is trying to reduce their carb intake they are told to avoid corn.  It can be used as a flour so easily that you can replicate most things that have flour in them with corn.  To most people, it is not really a big deal.  But, to a person who has relied on a strict set of rules and guidelines to break an addiction, it is a big problem.  At first, I allowed myself corn as a veggie option. In fact, I ate it frequently.  But I didn't allow myself the corn flour options - corn chips, cornbread, tortillas. They were too close to problem foods for me.  Plus, they were essential ingredients in some of the foods I couldn't have - like tacos, burritos, quesadillas.  As much as I liked those things, I didn't like other corn offerings.  I have never liked cornbread or corn tortillas very much.  So, I kind of had a hard time drawing the line over the last sixteen months or so.  

I allowed myself cornbread with some chili one time.  Then I had it at a BBQ place another time.  Soon, I found that I was ordering it every time it was an option.  I don't know if it was part of my changing taste buds that have allowed me to embrace other foods I used to hate (pickles, sweet potatoes, hummus, avocado, meatloaf).  It also could have been that I was so desperate for anything that looked or tasted like bread that it sucked me in.  Either way, I noticed that I was having a hard time turning it down.  Also, the tortilla chips started to be a problem.  When I went to a Mexican place once a month, it wasn't that big of a deal.  But it started to be that the people we were with wanted to go to those kinds of restaurants more often.  Now I was being confronted with chips and salsa and guac weekly (or more).

Those things combined with a trip to Orlando, lots of hours in the car, and eating out more while away from home.  Next thing I knew, I had gained five pounds.  260.  Not necessarily a big deal.  But, to me, it was a big problem.  I couldn't allowed for that slow degeneration.  I had to be more careful.  When I got back home, I was much more careful.  Corn bread went into the "bread" category and was banned.  The chips had to go back to a "once in a rare while" category.  I went back to my normal routine of yogurt, meat/beans/rice mix for lunch, and dinner.  The coffee remained, but the Fraps went out the window.  I was able to drop three pounds last week - which made me feel better.  But I knew I needed to be more careful.

Which is why Saturday was so shocking to me.  I had bought stuff to make a nice breakfast for Heather and the kids.  I scrambled up eggs, made some bacon, toasted up some, uh, toast.  I know all of these are no-nos for me.  I am allergic to eggs.  Bacon and toast are on my banned list.  But I had a half piece of bacon when I was getting the kids their food.  I had eaten bacon a couple times, and each time I realized I need to leave it be.  This time was no different.  I started to feel like I needed to have more.  It didn't help that there was a lot left over.  I managed to fight off that draw, but as a reminder of the slip up I had indigestion for hours from the piece I had.

We had a bunch of old bananas on the counter.  I usually toss them.  I am not wasteful when it comes to food.  But I intentionally got rid of the old yellow fruit because the only good things I knew to make with them was banana bread (or some variation).  Baked goods are one of my major problem foods.  And banana bread has always been one of my absolute favorites.  So, I got rid of the bananas on purpose.  This time, though, I decided to make the bread and send it in to Heather's classmates or the kids' teachers or something.  I found a great recipe and made the bread.  I had no clue if the kids would like it or not.  So I had them try it.  I cut off the end piece - knowing they wouldn't want that.  The big kids loved it.  But that end was sitting there, getting wasted.  And I wanted to know if it was a good recipe.

It was.

This was the first wheat flour I had eaten since January 2010.  It was the first sweet baked good I had in that time too.  Good grief, it was incredible.  I don't know if it was distance making the heart grow fonder or what.  But it was amazing.  The kids wanted a second piece, which I gave them.  Then I wanted Gabe to try it.  He didn't like it.  (He's weird.)  So, I went ahead and ate the rest of his piece.  When Heather got home, she tried it and agreed it was great.  But I knew I was in trouble.  Every time I walked past the kitchen, I wanted some.  When I cut some for the rest of the family later, I had to fight off the urge to have another piece.  Finally, I put it away and said, "This is precisely why I never have made this."  

The whole experience showed me that I am NOT over the addictions - they just are dormant.  But they will flare up the second I have a chance to feed them.  I have many times wondered what would happen if I was to eat one of the slices of pizza when I am serving the kids on pizza and movie night.  What about if I had one of these cupcakes or a donut?  Couldn't I handle having Cheerwine on tap just once at 4Rivers Smokehouse?  Well, Saturday (and the last few weeks) showed me.  I would be back hooked on those foods faster than you could believe.  I remember years ago I tried to give up soda.  I didn't have it for six weeks.  Then I went to a Tampa sub shop that had specialty sodas and had a root beer.  I was back on a full time soda habit within two weeks.  That is what happens with an addiction.

The encouraging thing to see was how quickly I recognized what was happening and was able to compensate.  I adjusted my actions and kept moving.  I didn't beat myself up.  I didn't go on a banana bread bender.  I realized the danger and changed my behavior.  I know I have to be more careful.  I can't take my success for granted.  There needs to be constant diligence.  As good as those foods are, they are not worth feeling like I used to and gaining weight.  So the bananas either need to go away - or the bread needs to be baked and removed as quickly as possible.  And the corn products need to be better regulated.  And I need to stick to coffee drinks without the word FRAP in them.  

No Go Fro Yo

Well, things are still just rolling along.  I haven't lost any more weight.  I haven't gained any more weight.  And, since I haven't had much success exercising yet, that is exactly where I will stay for a while.  I have continually tweaked things and tested what would happen if I added foods - lightened up the strictness.  On Thursdays, I have been having lunch with a friend of mine at Buffalo Wild Wings.  The special that day is boneless wings for 60 cents each.  I can get ten of those for six bucks, but for me to get their naked unbreaded tenders it is ten dollars.  I have a hard time paying that, so I have been experimenting with getting the pseudo wings, even though they are breaded.  I'm not very happy doing that, so I will not keep it up - I'm afraid it sets a dangerous precedent.  Once I allow breaded chicken back in, where is the line?  I need a line.

One thing that I allowed in months ago was frozen yogurt.  I was eating yogurt mixed with peanut butter at first.  Then I realized that I could eat frozen yogurt for the same calorie hit.  So it has been a big part of my diet.  It has worked well for me.  I don't feel deprived of all "bad for you" foods.  It also has been a good ending for my day.  I find I don't wander and snack at night if I have frozen yogurt.  Also, it seems to help my stomach.  That was one reason I started eating ice cream at night years ago was that it helped minimize acid reflux.  The frozen yogurt has had the same result.

The problem comes from that I have noticed my helpings of frozen yogurt had grown over the past few months.  At first, I had a small dessert bowl of fro yo.  Then it moved up to half a cereal bowl.  Now it is more than that.  I usually can go through a half gallon in three or four days - depending on the flavor.  (Edy's cappuccino goes faster.)  I had been pretty restrained for a while.  But then there were some days when I had a smaller dinner and justified the larger dessert.  That soon became the norm.

What really bothered me was that the other day I thought about not eating it and started to feel those old feelings of anger at the thought of being deprived of something I liked.  That was when I knew I was in trouble.  It was like when I had been doing so well with keeping my movie obsession under control under The Dark Knight came out.  To fix that, I intentionally didn't see the movie in the theater and didn't watch the DVD until about six months after the movie came out.  It was a way to self-correct the problem.  I realized then and there that I had to do something or the frozen yogurt was going to morph into a new area where I lacked control.  I am NOT going to let any food get the best of me again.  I've had to do this before when I felt certain foods were becoming too important.  I went about a month without BBQ at the first of the year, largely reducing my lunches and dinners to variations of chili and beans/rice.

So I stopped having frozen yogurt on Monday.  The first night, I wanted to go back on the decision.  My only real reason was that I didn't like giving it up - which really showed me I was on the right track.  It was hard that first night.  I ended up making my lemon/blueberry yogurt and added some dried blueberries and crushed up blueberry rice cakes.  It was very good.  Sure, it ended up being about the same calories as the frozen yogurt.  But it did the trick.  Call it hair splitting, but there is a clear difference between regular yogurt and frozen yogurt.  Just go try them both and you'll see.  Last night was a lot easier.  I don't have any fro yo in the house, so there hasn't been temptation to eat it.  I snacked on nuts and dried fruit.  I still need to find a good alternative, but for the interim I can handle it.

I'm not going to ban frozen yogurt forever.  It is a temporary restriction - like my Dark Knight approach. I saw that movie and have watched it several times since then.  But it helped me to get things under control.  I am back to the place where I can miss a movie I really want to see in the theater  and not get upset.  (Netflix helps.  Take Unstoppable.  I really wanted to see it when it was out, but never made it.  So I got it on Netflix the other day.  I wish I had seen it in the theater because it is a BIG movie.  But I saw it eventually - without paying crazy ticket prices.)  After this week, I'll see how I'm doing.  If I feel I have gotten things under control I will probably get some frozen yogurt.  But I am limiting myself to the small dessert bowls again.  If I still feel week, it will go back on the no-no list until I get things straight.

I'll see how all of this goes.  I wouldn't be surprised if I actually lose a few pounds.  Dropping those extra 400 calories a day will probably help me get down to 250 (or below).  This is definitely NOT a weight loss move.  It is to re-establish control for myself.  It really is a neverending battle.

Routine Maintenance

Well, it's been over a month since I have posted anything on this site.  To those of you who have been following this journey, that may have been worrisome for you - thinking that I had derailed and one day would be found passed out in a gutter covered with cheeseburger wrappers.  The good news is that everything is fine.  I have been plugging right along.  Today I got on the scale for the first time in three weeks and I weighed 253.8 - a pound more than the lowest I've been through all of this.  So, things are fine.

The truth is, I've kind of been experimenting with what would happen if I just went about living my life without thinking about this whole thing all the time.  For the past year, the thought of losing weight and controlling food has been near the front of my mind just about every day.  After losing the 100 pounds, my body plateaued.  It is obvious that I won't lose any more weight without either A) cutting my already restrictive diet even more or B) exercising.  I refuse to do the first choice.  The point of all of this was not to create a torturous and unpleasant set of rules to live by.  I was trying to free myself.  So, I am going to have to resort to exercise - something I loathe and still haven't gotten the drive to do yet.  Now that we are emerging from the frigid winter (for Florida), I will probably start.

But, it has been interesting these past two months to see what happens if I try to just live my life with this new set of guidelines.  The truth is, it has been very pleasant.  Sure, there are times where the pinch of my "outlawed foods" makes me miss something.  I still hate having to have cook and serve pizza for the kids.  It is just too tempting.  And I have been craving a burger for about two weeks now.  But, overall, what I have constructed is a very workable way of life for me.  And it is apparently working for my body.  For two months now I have weighed exactly the same.  So, I guess I have found that balance between calories taken and burned.

In doing this, I have loosened some of the restraints to see what happens.  So far, nothing bad has come of it.  Here are some examples of that.

• I have never liked Chinese food.  It is just one of those things that never clicked with me - probably because it didn't have cheese or bread.  Now, though, I have found myself utilizing it in its different forms - Chinese take out, Sarku at the Mall, Cajun Cafe (which is just glorified Chinese food).  And, when I get Chinese food, I usually will get an egg roll.  Yes, it is fried.  But as I looked at it, I realized I never was "addicted" to egg rolls.  So one those rare instances when I get Chinese food, I'll get an egg roll.
• The fried food embargo has not been completely lifted.  Things like chicken tenders, fish sticks, french fries, cheese sticks are still banned.  But I do get non-breaded wings sometimes - mostly at places where that is the only option for me.  And, if we are at a place where fried pickles or onion rings are sold, I usually will get those.  My logic on that is that those experiences are maybe once a month, they have some sort of veggie associated with them, and that it will be hard to start an addiction with something that hard to find.  (The only have fried pickles at two restaurants in Tallahassee, that I know of - Zaxby's and Buffalo Wild Wings.  So I'm pretty safe.)
• We got a free box of truffles at Earth Fare last month.  There were about thirty small truffles in the box.  I never have been a chocolate fanatic like my mom or youngest son.  I like it, but it is far from an uncontrollable food for me.  But I do like truffles.  I have allowed myself to have one truffle a day.  This has worked, since there still are some in the box and it's been three weeks now.  Restraint is the key - something that I have finally learned to some extent.  Chocolate is still on the watch list, but it is not forbidden.  Sometimes there are chocolate chunks in my frozen yogurt.  At the movies (which are very rare), I may get chocolate raisins.  So, it is a controlled relationship.
• Another food I always hated and now love is guacamole.  I actually have found lots of dips that are great for me - salsa, black bean dip, greek yogurt veggie dip.  The problem is finding something to dip into those things.  I have wrestled with this for a while.  I liked chips.  But it was not normal for me to annihilate a whole bag at a sitting.  I remember growing up, my brother would open a bag of Doritos and just inhale the whole thing watching a game.  My Munchos would sit in the cupboard, slowly decreasing for weeks.  But chips are dangerous.  I finally loosened up a little with some restrictions.  At Mexican places, I will allow myself some tortilla chips with the salsa or guac.  At home, I have found Rice Works chips - made from brown rice.  They are awesome and go great with guacamole.  For the Super Bowl party, I had those with Heather's homemade guac.  Yum.

I still only drink water.  During the day, I snack on fruit (bananas and apples, mostly) and nuts.  Sometimes I'll have dried fruit or yogurt covered dried fruit.  For lunch, I usually have leftovers or some kind of meat, bean, rice mixture I have in the fridge.  Breakfast is still just yogurt - although once a week or so I'll toss in some granola for fun.  And I end my day with frozen yogurt.  The structure and routine is important.  And if I don't have an option, I still will decide to eat nothing over cheating.  This happened the other day when we went to Subway for lunch.  Natalie and Heather like Subway and had been missing it.  So we went and I ate later.  At home, if I don't have any meal options, I'll eat another yogurt.  Those are my emergency options.  

[Side Note - if you want to make a really good yogurt dish, get a Chobani lemon yogurt, a Fage Blueberry yogurt, and a handful of granola.  Mix it all together.  It has like 23 grams of protein and around 300 calories.  Really carries you over for even dinner.]

So, all told, I am maintaining and living.  I will never say the food issues are conquered.  If I was to go eat a donut right now, I have no clue if I could stop.  So, those things are going to be off limits for a long time.  I just can't risk it.  But I feel confident that I can keep this approach to food going.  I am happy and enjoying it.  I feel good about how I look.  I regularly wear XLT shirts now - and some of those are big. I even was able to button some LT shirts, but they would spread open too much if I tried to sit down.  So, if I don't post often, it isn't because I failed or am ashamed.  There just isn't a lot to say right now.  But, once the exercising starts, I'll be back on here again to document that struggle.  

Hollow Day

I just finished reading Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins.  I would understand if you assumed that it was a food related book, since I am mentioning it on this site and it has a GREAT name for such a thing.  But it actually had nothing to do with that.  (It's a young adult thriller about a dystopian society.  Good book.)  There is a lot of food references in it.  But it mainly is to show the differences between areas of the society. The main character often thinks about food, because it is one of the elements she needs to survive - which is frequently not guaranteed.

Anyway, in the course of the story, the girl talked about how one day was a "hollow day."  That was a day where, no matter how much you ate, you just still felt hungry.  It didn't happen often, but it did happen once in a while.  In her case, days like that were a big problem because they didn't have much food.  So hollow days were a big inconvenience.  Have you ever had a day like that?  I'm not talking about a day of the munchies caused by boredom or some, um, chemical introduced into your system.  That isn't really the same thing.  This is a day where you just feel hungry all day.  It doesn't matter what you do, your stomach growls and complains.

Today has actually been one of those days for me.  I ate my usual breakfast - a Fage blueberry Greek yogurt and a handful of cashews.  A little later, still feeling hungry, I had a banana.  Then I had some more cashews.  About an hour later, I had an apple.  By 11:00, though, I was ravenous.  I don't mean bored.  I don't mean a little hungry.  I meant, my stomach was hurting and growling.  I was starting to feel a little ill. It made no sense.  I managed to put off eating lunch until I picked Heather up at 12:30.  We had Panera and I had a BBQ chicken salad and cup of chili.  By the time I got home, I felt like I hadn't eaten at all.  So I had another Fage yogurt.  It didn't help much.  I've been doing my best to avoid the kitchen, only grabbing a few cashews here and there.

Hollow days are hard.  I think everyone has them.  To a person who isn't watching their weight (or who doesn't need to), it can be a minor inconvenience.  But it is manageable.  Sneak a candy bar here; eat a bag of chips there.  But, to a person who is trying to be careful with their food decisions, a hollow day can be catastrophic.  How do you fight it off?  There aren't that many foods that can actually be snarfed down without consequence.  Nuts have a lot of calories.  Chips, crackers, mini rice cakes all have their share of calories and carbs.  Even fruit packs a wallop of sugar.

The problem is that it is easy to find something destructive when you are trying to get rid of that edge.  I can walk into the pantry right now and grab a bag of Goldfish crackers, a handful of cookies, a pack of peanut butter crackers.  Those would all help my hunger - for a while.  But they would hurt me in the long run.  And, even worse, it would make me feel like a failure.  That would almost secure a real mistake at a later meal.  I remember many times where snacking and picking all day would leave me so upset by dinner that I would just forget my usual game plan and go off the deep end.  Fortunately, that is not really an option any longer.  But the feeling of a hollow day is certainly still unsettling.

The human body is strange.  What we actually need each day is different.  There are some days where we could get by with just a small meal here or there.  And then there are those days when it is like our body is calling out for more than we think is healthy.  I remember having one of these hollow days a few months back.  I was sure that I had done a number on my weight loss.  But the next day was one of my weigh in days and I had lost two pounds.  That is one of those cases where we need to actually learn to listen to our bodies and learn what it is asking for.  And then we need to answer it.  Is it actually thirsty and not hungry?  Is it just needing more calories that day for some reason?  If our body is asking, I don't think it is bad to answer that - even if it is outside of our pre-ordained diet plan.  The trick is to know when it is really necessary.  When is that just boredom?  When is it our body trying to trick us into getting more sugar or carbs?  That is an important and difficult lesson.  In the mean time, I need to try to manage the hollow days so that they don't end up being a pitfall instead.

88% Meat!!!

I posted this on the other site, but thought it would fit on here as well.

In 1993, we were all treated to a cinema classic when Demolition Man exploded onto movie screens.  It was a fun movie, to be sure.  Completely implausible, but fun.  It featured some big names actors - several who would even get award nominations and victories in future years.  The soundtrack was by Sting.  Like I said, fun movie.  Here's its IMDB page, if you are interested.  The basic story was a modern supercop (Sylvester Stallone, of course) was convicted of wrongfully killing an apartment complex full of people.  He was sentenced to cryogenic prison - he was frozen.  Many years later he is unfrozen in the sissified future to capture a violent criminal (Wesley Snipes) who had somehow escaped from this cryo-prison.  The future was pretty bizarre, played for laughs, and completely impossible to imagine.  In one of the more ridiculous examples of this future, everyone keeps talking about going to Taco Bell, like it is this big awesome deal.  Stallone's cop finally can't take it anymore and wonders why.  His partner (Sandra Bullock) explains that Taco Bell was the only restaurant that survived the "Fast Food Wars."  Every restaurant was now Taco Bell.

It really was one of the more brazen (and brilliant) product placements in movie history.  And it paved the way for Happy Gilmore to supercharge his golf swing with Subway subs, as well as allowed Tony Stark to demand Burger King after his release/escape from prison.  It also allowed for Taco Bell to develop one of their special combo meals that they are so known for.  Back then, Taco Bell was not really into that, yet.  This was one of their first big combo efforts.  Later, it would be replicated with their tie in with Congo and the "Volcano Combo."  It even led to the stupid Star Wars Episode I tie in with sister chains KFC and Pizza Hut.  Now, Taco Bell always has some kind of combo going that's tied in to something.  But, back then, it was unique.  I remember many times ordering the Demolition Man Combo.  Then I would go back to my dorm and become a demolition man in the bathroom.  Good fun.

I thought of this the other day when Taco Bell's plans to become the only restaurant on earth took a severe blow when it was sued for making the egregious claim that it used "meat" in its food.  Details of the lawsuit can be found here.  The basics of the suit is that Taco Bell is supposedly not meeting federal standards for "meat" by adding fillers, oats, water, circus peanuts to their beef.  "Attorney Dee Miles said the meat mixture contained just 35 percent beef, with the remaining 65 percent containing water, wheat oats, soy lecithin, maltodrextrin, anti-dusting agent and modified corn starch."  Amazingly, the suit does not want Taco Bell to stop this practice.  Rather, it wants them to now call their product "meat mixture" rather than "beef."

Taco Bell, naturally, did not take this sitting down on the toilet.  (They obviously don't eat their own products.)  They fired back with a threat of a countersuit and explained that "yuh huh" their meat is really animal.  They even have put up posters in their restaurants with the bold statement "THANK YOU FOR SUING US!"  If you read the poster - which I did yesterday at our visit to Taco Bell - it claims that their meat is actually 88% percent meat, and then only 12% other stuff.  SO THERE!!! HA HA!  They showed you!  You lying rat fishturds.  Eighty eight percent!  Eighty eight percent!

Waaaaait a minute...

Bragging that your meat is 88% meat is kind of like FSU bragging that 9 out of 10 of their male students obtain permission before engaging in sexual activity with someone.  "FSU!!!  Now with only 10% rapists!!!"  [Real fact from this website.]  Taco Bell even went on to list the rest of the stuff in their food.

"We start with USDA-inspected quality beef (88%)," Taco Bell said in an ad signed by company president Greg Creed. "Then add water to keep it juicy and moist (3%). Mix in Mexican spices and flavors including salt, chili pepper, onion powder, tomato powder, sugar, garlic powder and cocoa powder (4%). Combine a little oats, caramelized sugar, yeast, citric acid and other ingredients that contribute to the flavor, moisture, consistency and quality of our seasoned beef."  [That last category is 5%, since they didn't state it.]

Way to go Taco Bell!!  The poster actually says that they use the same USDA beef that we would use at home.  Doubtful.  See, I usually use a 93/7 beef to fat kind of meat.  If I'm buying for bulk, I'll use the 90/10 from Sam's.  I severely doubt the Mexican Phone Company is going to cough up that kind of money.  My guess is that the BEST they use is an 80/20 blend of ground chuck.  They may even have some other option we don't - like a 70/30 one.  NOW WITH MORE HOOF!!!  So, that 88% number is obviously not correct.  Let's say they use a 80/20 - being kind and all.  Using simple math, that means that the real "meat" percent is actually closer to 70%, with 18% being fat, 3% being water, 4% being spices , and 5% being oats, sugar, gym mats, batting, recycled tennis shoes.  (The truth of what they use is far more disturbing and uses the words "Cutter Grade.")

Now, if Taco Bell's numbers are right, they aren't too bad.  If you were make taco meat at home, your numbers actually would be worse.  Take one pound of ground beef (16 ounces), a packet of spices (1.25 ounces), and 3/4 cup of water (about 6 ounces).  The percents for that would be meat 69%, spices 5%, and water 26%.  Of course, some of the water and some of the fat cooks out, so those numbers would be quite different.  [Most of the time, I don't use water when I make it.  Just to share.]

I, for one, don't believe Taco Bell's numbers for a minute.  From what I noticed, no one was surprised at the original lawsuit and accusations.  People have heard bad things about fast food for years.  I have been told numerous times that Taco Bell's meat is a lower USDA grade than cat food.  This article actually shows one man's research into that claim.  [My favorite line in it is "it is all cow meat and by law cannot contain cow organs or tendons or hooves or anything except cow meat."]  This doesn't surprise me.  We know this.  There is a part of our mind that has accepted this.  We know that there is no way McDonald's has served all the hamburgers it claims to if they were all actually 100% meat.  We honestly don't expect it.  So what if they use "mechanically separated chicken" or cow meat as long it doesn't have hoof in it.  I actually have an easier time believing the lawsuit numbers instead of Taco Bell's.

Even if their numbers are accurate, the fact remains that the quality of their meat is hardly even comparable to what we would use at home.  To try to claim that their stuff is just like ours is insulting.  What the lawsuit against the Bell will probably try to do is to point out that the 88% number is not truly all meat - going by what else goes into its creation.  It's another example of a major corporation getting caught skating the line and then retaliating with spin doctors and lawsuits and bluster.  It's like when Denny's was accused of being racist, which then prompted them to do a similar "thanks for suing us" campaign.  It was something like, "Thanks for reminding us of what is important.  Thanks for reminding us that we should remember what elementary kids have hammered home every day - to not judge people by the color of their skin when they just want some pancakes."  Then they put plaques up in every store assuring us that they don't discriminate.

Look, we know how this is going to end.  Taco Bell is going to make some token apology.  They'll print a bunch of new posters to convince us they are "working harder."  They'll pay some people off, fire some executives.  The lawsuit will be a distant memory and Taco Bell won't go anywhere.  They may see some dip in sales for a few weeks.  But not every restaurant is open for "Fourth Meal" - or, as FSU students call it, "When the Munchies Kick In."  People won't stop going there because they don't care.  Like I said, no one was stunned by this news.  People will keep on thinking outside the bun and scarfing down cheap tacos and gorditas.  And Taco Bell can continue their quest for fast food domination.  I just ask that they don't insult me by bragging about the mediocre way they are doing business.  Don't throw "88%" in my face, like I'm supposed to be impressed.  You're Taco Bell.  You're disgusting.  You are not some authentic Mexican place with fresh hearty ingredients.  Don't pretend to be so.  Take your lumps, do what you have to do.  And then get back to what you do best - developing big combos, negotiating movie tie-ins, cooking crappy food, and thinking about how to save our future - with or without a defrosted Sly Stallone.

Plateau

I remember when I was in school and learned about what a plateau was.  It was a raised area that was higher in sea level than the surrounding area, but it was level on top.  I always saw it in my head as a mountain that was cut off at the knees.  And it was always in a desert - and red.  I don't know why I see it that way.  It may be because of the pictures in those early books that taught me about it.  Whatever the reason, a plateau seemed like a horrible land feature - almost as bad as a savannah.  Boring and depressing. Not exciting like a mountain, dry, desolate, like a big wart.

This post is for all those people who think that my weight loss efforts have been non-stop successes.  You may be surprised, but I hear that frequently.  People will start a weight loss process, and then look at me and get depressed when they don't lose tons of weight.  When I had that huge drop back during the holidays, numerous people told me they were frustrated.  Well, now it is my turn.

Back before Christmas, I had dropped all the way to 253.  Last week, I weighed 258.  I finally got back down to 254 on Monday, only to be back up at 255 on Tuesday.  (This was after having a bad stomach day and, uh, "using the facilities" six times in 24 hours.)  It has been six weeks of floating around the same weight - and even going up.  There is no good reason.  I have been back home most of that time, eating like I had been eating back in early November.  I was on a routine.  I was drinking fewer Starbucks lattes.  I should have been going back down the weight ladder.  But I went up.  I have no idea why.

I know this happens with weight loss.  I have been waiting for it to happen.  All I hoped for was that I could hit 100 pounds before it happened - which I did.  I really have gone as far as possible with just food changes.  I have to do one of two things - restrict my diet further or start exercising.  As far as the first option goes, I do NOT want to restrict my diet more.  I have gotten into an easy to maintain routine.  This is a good thing.  I know what I can and can't eat.  I like my choices.  It is something I can continue for the long term.  I have made some minor changes, like eating less BBQ and trying to eat more fruit and veggies.  For example, I will make sure I have a couple bananas and an apple every day in between meals, to up my intake.  I try to not have a meal without some kind of plant generated item.  I am really honestly not willing to trim things further.  Some people may take issue with that.  But when so much has already been cut, it is hard to imagine cutting into the few options I have.

The second option is to begin exercising.  I know that I need to do this.  But I just have not gotten the drive to start.  I remember when I began this journey last year, the food stuff like clicked - like a switch had flipped.  I was ready and committed.  There was no wavering.  I didn't come up with excuses to cheat.  I just did it and that's that.  But with exercise, sheesh.  It is like I come up with every single reason possible to not start.

It is too cold.  That is my biggest excuse right now.  It is a true statement, to be sure.  We rarely have a day that the wakey time temperature is above 40.  And even those days usually are rainy with a new front moving into the area.  Exercising in the cold is a pretty lousy experience.  (Understand, that my definition of exercise at this point is basically walking.)  This is combined by the fact that...

I don't have the right clothing for this (another excuse).  I don't have long pants for exercising - I have jeans and a couple pairs of khakis.  The only workout pants I have fall down no matter how tight I tie them.  And I don't want to spend money on any new stuff - because I don't really want to work out.

I don't have access to a gym.  People will usually respond to my climate excuses with "well go to the gym."  I am not going to buy a gym membership.  I've done that before.  Until I have some commitment that is like pouring money into a furnace.  Plus, the only one close is the YMCA - and a pretty lame one at that.  Our apartment complex has a workout center.  But it seems to have its hours modeled after Major Major from Catch-22.  It's only open when you can't go.  They don't open it until after most people would have left for work and it closes before the kids go to bed.  I can't take Gabe because the only place to put him is this little tiny alcove with a lame gate he could just open and walk out from.  Now, I could go on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday when Gabe is at preschool.  But I usually have more important things to do - like nap and play on Facebook.

The kids won't cooperate.  We have a Wii and Wii Fit and a Wii Balance Board.  I used it for a while.  But now, it seems like I just don't see that as an option.  I don't know why.  I used to use it when Gabey was going to bed.  The big kids would watch me.  Now, Gabe's routine has changed, we have gymnastics on Tuesday and Thursday, and the house seems to have more toys in the way.  I'm sure I could still use the Wii.  But the tiniest excuse not to always seems to derail me.

I hurt too much.  My rheumatoid arthritis has been flared up for the past six months or so.  But, the meds I am on actually seem to be working pretty well.  Of course, it is a convenient excuse when my neck or knee are acting up.  I couldn't possibly work through that.  (Even though exercise is supposed to be something good for RA.)

Basically, I am stuck in neutral.  The food stuff is going fine.  But I just don't seem to have the desire to start the exercise.  Part of it is that I have come so far.  It's not like I have to exercise to save my life or anything.  It is to get the last chunk off.  I just hate exercise.  I'm not one of those people who gets a thrill by running or lifting weight.  I get a thrill by killing animated pigs with catapulted birds.  I get a thrill by watching Burn Notice or White Collar.  I'm a stagnant person.  This is not a new development.  My brother used to try to get me to play outside with him.  As I got older, it got harder and harder for him to do it.  I don't like it.

People will say, "You just got to do it.  Just get up and do it."  It's funny, though.  That is the same thing they said about the food changes - and that advice never worked with that either.  It isn't as easy as just standing up and saying, "Today I'm going to force myself to do this."  Or maybe it is.  I haven't found the answer yet.  I'm not giving up.  I just have tried to be honest on this blog about my process.  And right now, my process is in stasis and is being held up by my lack of motivation to engage in physical activity.  Really, until I do that, I'm stuck on that desert wart.

One Year Update

I really can't believe that it has been a whole year.  Last MLK weekend, for some reason, things finally clicked and decided to do something about my weight and food issues.  It has been a long journey.  It has not been easy.  But, quite honestly, it has been a lot easier and quick than I thought.  First, let me throw up the numbers that I know everyone thirsts for.

2010
355 pounds
4XLT Shirts
50" waist
Hole 1 of bigger belt

2011
255 pounds
XLT Shirts
38" waist
Hole 9 of smaller belt

Yes, things fluctuate all the time.  I was down to 253 about ten days ago.  Then I was back up 258 after traveling and driving all weekend.  But most of the last month I have been at 255.  The fluctuations are annoying - and one of those frustrations that have derailed me in the past.  (And they also are the most disheartening things with my friends who are working on their weight and food right now.)  You can do everything right and take in too much salt and then drift up a couple pounds right at weigh-in time.  Then, with no warning, you'll drop four pounds in a week.  Fluctuations stink.

But this post is not about complaining.  It is a celebration.  That is how I have viewed this past weekend.  On Friday night, we had our Tallahassee friends over for a Tex-Mex fiesta to celebrate the one year anniversary.  It felt appropriate.  Weight loss and dieting is such a solitary thing - most of the time.  That is how I had always approached it.  You are fighting alone, looking at all the fun everyone else is having.  This time, though, I did something different.  I involved my friends and family from the very beginning.  The first thing I did was send an email out to a core group of supporters to ask for prayer.  That email is one of the first posts on this blog.  Speaking of this blog, it was another way to bring supporters into the process.  I was journaling my journey - working through issues and struggles.  I also posted monthly updates on Facebook.  This brought accountability.  I wasn't alone.  That brought comfort, in the fact that I had people to turn to.  But it also kept me going, because I didn't want to have to admit to bunch of people I had binged on fried cheese.

There is no way I could have done this without all the people around me.  I can't even explain the feeling in knowing that fifty or sixty people were reading this blog after every Facebook update.  It made me feel good - like a jolt of energy to keep me on track.  Every email, blog comment, Facebook status comment was another push in the right direction.  Every time I saw someone who gushed about how good I looked, it just made me more driven.  Those things are so important to a person making a life change.  They need to know other people are proud of them and rooting for them.

It went beyond just edification.  My friends and family went overboard to make sure I succeeded.  "I want to make sure you have what you need to eat."  I heard that every time I was staying at someone's house.  Most people don't have Fage brand cherry Greek yogurt in their fridge.  My friends and family members do every time I'm in town.  The average family doesn't cook chicken breast at a kiddie birthday party.  They don't have frozen yogurt in their fridge or big jars of cashews in their cupboard.  My friends do.  My friends make two stops when picking up food - one at McDonalds or Chick-Fil-A and one at a BBQ place for me.  My friends and family forego going to Olive Garden and Carrabbas when I'm around.  They put up with Mexican food a lot.  And LOTS of BBQ.  They eat at Boston Market.  They ask before they bake things if I can handle it.  They make extra sides at dinners so there are things for me to eat.  For all those people who wonder how I did this - that's how.  I had an army of people making sure I didn't fail.  They didn't want to be the one that tripped me up.  And they saw it as them participating in it.  When I won, they won.  And THAT is something I never saw coming.  I was prepared to go through this alone and hungry.  And that never happened.  Even if I started to feel that way, my kids would say something about my diet or brag on me to their teacher and I remembered I was NOT alone.

People ask me all the time how I feel.  The biggest word I can use to describe how I feel now is FREE.  I am free from having to make bad choices.  I really understand freedom now.  It isn't being able to do whatever you want.  It is not having to do certain things.  I don't have to order cheeseburgers when I go to a restaurant.  I don't have to stick with the all-fried appetizer combo.  I don't have to drink soda to be satisfied.  I don't have to stop at McDonald's for breakfast.  This past weekend, we went to a party for a friend's little girl.  There was pizza and cupcakes and soda.  Yes, there was a twinge of disappointment.  But there was not even one split second that I considered partaking.  I looked at the food options and just knew that I would have to stop at Huey Magoo's on the way back to the hotel.  In years past - even in diets past - I would have taken the hit and tried to get past it later.  Not this time.  I didn't even think about it.  I was free.

I'm freer in my clothing choices.  I'm not limited to the three button colored short sleeve shirt any more.  I wear straight leg jeans instead of loose fit.  I buy shirts at Target instead of Casual Male.  I am free of those hateful beliefs about myself.  I see myself differently.  It is an unbelievable feeling.  As any American should know, freedom is an intoxicating feeling.  Actually, more Americans take it for granted.  The people who realize that are those who move here from a place where freedom is only a dream.  The same goes for someone who beats an addiction.  Only a former prisoner can truly appreciate being free.  I was that prisoner.  I was trapped in solitary confinement in a prison of my construction made of walls of donuts and pizza crust, with a moat of Mountain Dew.  Now I am free, surrounded by people who love me - and who will get to love me for a longer period of time, since I won't die from my stupid food choices.  And it is the greatest feeling in the world.  I wouldn't say Darth Fatso is dead yet.  But he is well on is way.  Thank you all for being there for me during this.

In My Sleevies

One of the more exciting and frustrating parts of this whole weight loss process is having to get new clothes.  On one hand, it is fun to get new clothes.  I don't know too many people who are down on that.  "Boo!  I want my old ratty clothes.  I don't want new stuff!"  Sure, my kids do that, but they are insane.  So the concept of "new clothes" is not the problem.  Neither is the exhilaration of trying on something in a size that used to be something you wore to recreate Chris Farley's "Fat guy in a little coat" scene from Tommy Boy and actually having it fit.  That rocks.

The frustrating thing is having to figure out the inconsistent stupid sizing methods at stores.  Why is there not a uniform sizing system?  Isn't this somewhere the government should step in?  I mean, there is a globally accepted system of weights and measures.  "A pound's a pound the world around."  Right?  Imagine the uproar if companies could decide what a cup or an ounce was.  One pound bag of flour is bigger than another.  Ridiculous.  Even worse - what if Starbucks decided their 12 ounce cup would be smaller than everyone else's.  UPROAR!!!  Clothes should be subject to this too.  I mean, they are measuring the amount of human that fits into the pants, right?   Unify that junk.

Old Navy is like the perfect example of this mind-bending sizing process.  I wear 38 inch waist, 30 inch inseam straight leg jeans there.  They fit perfect.  But, if I try to put on a 38/30 pair of cargo pants or khakis, they don't fit.  The employees there have told me it is because they have different factories making the different pants.  Uh, does that mean the different factories have different size tape measures?  That's no excuse.  But it isn't just their pants, either.  Their shirts are the worst.  Their 2XL shirts are probably the equivalent of a small XL somewhere else.  It is like everything there is sized down one letter.

Shirts are a big frustration to me.  Back in the day, when I was turning into a human Macy's Thanksgiving Day Balloon,  ("And now the Darth Fatso balloon is drifting down the boulevard.  The amazing thing, Al, is that this balloon is actually 10 percent LARGER than last year.")  I would just get whatever I could hide my body in.  And since I was usually shopping in Fat and Tall stores, the sleeves were rarely an issue.  The stores were used to seeing people with orangutan arms.  They accommodate that.  No such luck any longer.  I guess companies, as they move shirts sizes upward, also move sleeve lengths up.  Heather got me a 4XL long-sleeved UCF shirt two years ago for Christmas.  If I didn't pull the sleeves up, they would hang past my hands.  The same was true for my Apple Store long sleeve shirt - the sleeves hang to my fingertips.

When I ordered some 2XL long sleeve FSU Med School shirts a few months back, the sleeves are about two inches up my arm.  When I got measured at Men's Wearhouse in December, they reiterated the fact that I have longer arms than average for my size.  I guess I never really noticed because I was too busy worrying about the gigantic gut.  Now, though, I realize that my measurements lead to a nightmare of shopping.  My inseam is the same as my father-in-law's - who is six-seven inches shorter than me.  So I have very short legs.  I have a long torso, which means I have to get the next size up shirt - or always shop at a Big/Tall shop.  Case in point... At Target, I found some nice long sleeve flannel shirts.  (Always have been a sucker for plaid flannel shirts.  I think I was supposed to be a lumberjack.)  The 2XL shirts have a great sleeve length and are long enough, but they really are too wide.  I can button and wear the XL shirts, but they have the bare midriff look that is so hot right now.

So I have broad shoulders, a little bit of a stomach (still, yes), a very long torso, gorilla arms, normal waist, and tiny legs.  My measurements don't exactly make things easy.  But it certainly is compounded by the inconsistent sizes out there.  In the recent past, I have fit into an XLT vest, 2XL shirts, 2XLT shirts, and 3XL shirts (won't buy those, no way).  I also have fit into 38/30, 40/30, 42/30, and 46/30 pants.  Of course, as they say, it's a nice problem to have.  I just wish I knew what size I actually am.

New Year's Day

Today is New Year's Day.  January 1, 2011.  As all the twitter feeds and news sources will tell you, this is the chance for a new beginning.  It is a time to make promises and resolutions - a time to start fresh and new.  I have always found it interesting that the vast number of people end the old year doing all the same things they have always done (getting hammered, partying, making questionable choices, staying up too late) and then expect the calendar flip to give them the willpower to stop doing that.

I have always been one of those people.  Every January 1, I would try to tell myself that I could change things the next year.  This would be the year that I finally starting reading my Bible consistently or praying more often.  I finally would get my temper under control.  And, of course, I would lose weight.  It is the number one resolution that people make.  I made it so often that I finally stopped.  When people would ask me what my resolutions were, I would tell them I didn't make them because they didn't matter.  But, deep down inside, I hoped that somehow I would be able to do it anyway.

It really is a ridiculous effort - to put so much weight (ha ha) on one day.  But millions of people do it every year.  The problem is that when you wake up on the First, nothing really has changed.  You are the same person with the same addictions and weaknesses and history.  Your kitchen is full of the same problem foods.  There are the same holiday cookies and cakes, the same snack foods.  There probably are leftovers from the party the night before.  How can anyone expect to walk downstairs and into a new life like that?  It is setting yourself up for failure.  And that just feeds the cycle.

When the inevitable failure comes - which odds are it will - that is just more ammo in the weapons of doubt and shame.  It is another example of how this problem is too big to defeat.  You train yourself to fail.

This year is so much different for me.  This morning I woke up and realized for the first time that I could even remember, I didn't say, "Maybe this year I can lose weight."  Instead I woke up and said, "I weigh 100 pounds less than I did last year."  That was an exhilarating feeling.  I have almost gone an entire calendar year now.  I have made it through every major holiday, every possible trap and pitfall.  There wasn't a resolution to be made.  The thing is, it came through hard work and planning and discipline.  Those are the things that resolutions don't have.  It takes preparation and execution - commitment.  I find it fitting that my journey didn't begin on January 1.  It was on the 18th.  It is kind of symbolic that it wasn't a whim of a thought - it was a serious choice.

For those of you out there who are struggling, I pray that this year you are able to find victory and freedom.  Don't get wrapped up in meeting some arbitrary goal set because the calendar flipped.  Take your time and plan.  Realize this is going to be a long process.  But, in the grand scheme of things, what is a year?  It is a blip in your life.  If it takes a whole year to get your weight under control, so what?  You still have all those later years that will be better because of it.  Don't give up if you mess up on January 4.  Don't quit if you haven't lost all 30 pounds by April 15, or if you have a month with no changes.  Keep pressing forward.  It will be worth it.

Take it from a person who has lived this.  For the first time ever, I can enter the new year with a new mindset.  I'm not done yet.  But it is a lot less daunting thinking that I only need to lose 30 or 50 pounds instead of 150!  Let your resolution be that you will give yourself the chance to succeed.  Happy New Year, friends.