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.
Showing posts with label freedom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label freedom. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Purple Chicken, Red Potatoes, with a Side of Guilt
Tonight I was experimenting with a chicken dish. The other day, Publix had Ken's salad dressings BOGO (buy one, get one). I don't buy everything that is BOGO. But if I can actually see myself using it, I take full advantage of the BOGO. Plus, I love writing BOGO. BOGO BOGO BOGO. I'll stop.
Anyway, I bought two Ken's dressings because I use them as marinades. Salad dressing works great as a marinade. And the dressing syndicate has figured this out. So now they put dressing in a bottle with different labels and sell them in the marinade section. Seriously - look at it next time. Try to tell me what the difference is. (Get to the point.) One of the flavors I got was a Blueberry Pomegranate Vinaigrette. I thought it would be great with chicken or fish. Today, I threw three boneless skinless chicken breasts in a bag with the dressing and let it soak.
When I took the chicken out, I noticed that it was pink. Well, magenta. It looked kind of like the color of a red beet pickled egg. When I put it in the pan to cook, I also decided to pour the rest of the marinade into the pan. And, I dumped the rest of an older pint of blueberries into the pan - to get rid of them. As the chicken cooked, it went from magenta to flat out purple. The outside was a deep purple. Scared the snot out of the kids. I tried to convince them that it was a cool thing. But they were already on guard. I tried to just cook the chicken like I usually do - seared on a high temp for a few minutes and then cooked with a lid at a low temp for the rest of the time. But it wasn't working - the searing wouldn't take. Anyway, I ended up having the sauce boil out of the pan once. (It almost happened twice.) I also got purple splatter on one of my five shirts that fit right. (YAY!)
At the same time as I was doing this, I was making corn on the cob and red potatoes. The corn was actually done and just sitting in the hot water. I had accidentally started it about fifteen minutes too early. (My brain was not working right tonight.) I went to make the potatoes and couldn't figure out how to make them. I couldn't remember if I ever had made baby red potatoes. My mom used to make a good dill potato dish with red potatoes. But I couldn't remember what to do. Heather said, "Just roast them." Dur. (As I said, my brain was out of it for some reason.) I lightly poured olive oil on the potatoes, sprinkled dill and 4 Rivers Smokehouse Seasoning on it. And I roasted those dudes.
The kids were not on board. We had purple chicken, these weird red potatoes, and corn - which has been on Natalie's bad list since she has loose teeth. I was worried also. Sure, the look was weird. (Purple chicken is NOT attractive.) But the potatoes were just there haunting me. I haven't had potatoes in five months. It was never because I had an addiction level problem with potatoes. In fact, I never considered potatoes much of a favorite item. I would inhale french fries. But when it came to potatoes in general - I felt pretty in control of the quantity I ate. Well, unless they were covered with bacon, sour cream, butter, or the contents of a steak sub.
But potatoes fell into my voluntary starch embargo. As I explained before, I am actually taking a two prong approach to my food battle. I am completely avoiding the foods I have discovered to be things I am addicted to, emotionally attached to, or unable to control the quantity of. Then I also am not eating most starches (bread, potatoes, breading). This is to reduce my dependence on them - and to accelerate the weight loss by forcing my body to burn off fat deposits. So, I really don't HAVE to follow the "No Starch" rule. It is an optional thing - but it is something that I treat with the same seriousness as the addiction foods. My concern, knowing myself as I do, is that if I am too lenient with myself I will wreck.
Tonight, I had no desire to also cook rice, just because I couldn't eat the potatoes. I decided that I would have some of the potatoes - but just be really careful on how many. (Even though I never gorge on potatoes.) They came out really good. Actually, the whole meal was very good. The chicken had a great fruity flavor. And the inside of it was still white instead of being purple the whole way through. However, instead of enjoying the small amount of potatoes I had, I sat there and felt guilty as I was eating them.
I was stressing that eating the two little taters was going to set me off on a starch wolfing bender. Next thing I know, I'll be passed out in Publix after inhaling a whole can of Idahoan instant potato flakes. It is ridiculous. But I have a problem.
I am very good at being very legalistic with myself (and others). When it comes time to just lay down the law, I can do that. This has been proved many times over - my approach to alcohol, my movie fast of about ten years ago, this food effort. The problem is when I try to work some freedom or leniency into the whole thing. That is something I have trouble with. It is like I am a car. It is easy for me to sit there with my foot clamped onto the brake pedal - completely stopping my moving at all. But, when I take my food off the brakes at all, the car just has always raced away. There is no quarter impulse power (for you Star Trek fans). It is either All Stop or Warp Ten. My biggest challenge at this point of my effort is to learn how blend strictness with freedom.
For those of you who have read this blog for a long time, you realize that this is a very common theme in the posts. I have battled this with frozen yogurt, with brown rice, with peanut butter, with vanilla yogurt. Every time I come upon a food that is trying to cross from "avoidance for non-addiction reasons" to "eat with caution," I go through a ton of guilt and self-doubt. The sad things is that I don't even WANT to bring potatoes back into the fold. They add nothing to me. I don't like them enough to bring them back. They are just trouble waiting to happen. But I also don't want to feel like a cheating turd because I decide to eat them twice a year.
I'm not sure why it bothered me so much. I've been wrestling with a lot of mental warfare the last couple of days. Yesterday was one of my worst days in a LOOOONG time. The whole day was terrible. Gabe busted his lip. My wedding ring got mangled in the garbage disposal. We got charged for something we didn't order. And there was a lot of kid-related issues. By the end of the day, I was so hungry (after only having a yogurt and two bananas all day) that I just wanted to go and eat something without thinking about it. "Go get a hamburger! It's just one night! No big deal!" I haven't had to fight those thoughts off in months! I was kind of surprised that kind of attack was still in there. I ultimately just had some soup, to diffuse the attack. Maybe that was why I was so tough on myself today. [I wouldn't eat at Chick Fil A because I couldn't come up with something to get without feeling bad or not getting enough food.] I guess this is the cost of trying to do this right.
Freedom is two sided. On one hand, freedom means that I am free to NOT do things wrong. I don't have to do the stupid things that had defined me so much. I am free form that prison. But, freedom also means that I don't have to be legalistic. If the food is not one of those "Never under any circumstances" foods, then I should be free to partake of it - in a healthy and controlled manner. That is the freedom that I am still trying to get a handle on.
I just never thought I would be more comfortable eating purple chicken than red potatoes.
Anyway, I bought two Ken's dressings because I use them as marinades. Salad dressing works great as a marinade. And the dressing syndicate has figured this out. So now they put dressing in a bottle with different labels and sell them in the marinade section. Seriously - look at it next time. Try to tell me what the difference is. (Get to the point.) One of the flavors I got was a Blueberry Pomegranate Vinaigrette. I thought it would be great with chicken or fish. Today, I threw three boneless skinless chicken breasts in a bag with the dressing and let it soak.
When I took the chicken out, I noticed that it was pink. Well, magenta. It looked kind of like the color of a red beet pickled egg. When I put it in the pan to cook, I also decided to pour the rest of the marinade into the pan. And, I dumped the rest of an older pint of blueberries into the pan - to get rid of them. As the chicken cooked, it went from magenta to flat out purple. The outside was a deep purple. Scared the snot out of the kids. I tried to convince them that it was a cool thing. But they were already on guard. I tried to just cook the chicken like I usually do - seared on a high temp for a few minutes and then cooked with a lid at a low temp for the rest of the time. But it wasn't working - the searing wouldn't take. Anyway, I ended up having the sauce boil out of the pan once. (It almost happened twice.) I also got purple splatter on one of my five shirts that fit right. (YAY!)
At the same time as I was doing this, I was making corn on the cob and red potatoes. The corn was actually done and just sitting in the hot water. I had accidentally started it about fifteen minutes too early. (My brain was not working right tonight.) I went to make the potatoes and couldn't figure out how to make them. I couldn't remember if I ever had made baby red potatoes. My mom used to make a good dill potato dish with red potatoes. But I couldn't remember what to do. Heather said, "Just roast them." Dur. (As I said, my brain was out of it for some reason.) I lightly poured olive oil on the potatoes, sprinkled dill and 4 Rivers Smokehouse Seasoning on it. And I roasted those dudes.
The kids were not on board. We had purple chicken, these weird red potatoes, and corn - which has been on Natalie's bad list since she has loose teeth. I was worried also. Sure, the look was weird. (Purple chicken is NOT attractive.) But the potatoes were just there haunting me. I haven't had potatoes in five months. It was never because I had an addiction level problem with potatoes. In fact, I never considered potatoes much of a favorite item. I would inhale french fries. But when it came to potatoes in general - I felt pretty in control of the quantity I ate. Well, unless they were covered with bacon, sour cream, butter, or the contents of a steak sub.
But potatoes fell into my voluntary starch embargo. As I explained before, I am actually taking a two prong approach to my food battle. I am completely avoiding the foods I have discovered to be things I am addicted to, emotionally attached to, or unable to control the quantity of. Then I also am not eating most starches (bread, potatoes, breading). This is to reduce my dependence on them - and to accelerate the weight loss by forcing my body to burn off fat deposits. So, I really don't HAVE to follow the "No Starch" rule. It is an optional thing - but it is something that I treat with the same seriousness as the addiction foods. My concern, knowing myself as I do, is that if I am too lenient with myself I will wreck.
Tonight, I had no desire to also cook rice, just because I couldn't eat the potatoes. I decided that I would have some of the potatoes - but just be really careful on how many. (Even though I never gorge on potatoes.) They came out really good. Actually, the whole meal was very good. The chicken had a great fruity flavor. And the inside of it was still white instead of being purple the whole way through. However, instead of enjoying the small amount of potatoes I had, I sat there and felt guilty as I was eating them.
I was stressing that eating the two little taters was going to set me off on a starch wolfing bender. Next thing I know, I'll be passed out in Publix after inhaling a whole can of Idahoan instant potato flakes. It is ridiculous. But I have a problem.
I am very good at being very legalistic with myself (and others). When it comes time to just lay down the law, I can do that. This has been proved many times over - my approach to alcohol, my movie fast of about ten years ago, this food effort. The problem is when I try to work some freedom or leniency into the whole thing. That is something I have trouble with. It is like I am a car. It is easy for me to sit there with my foot clamped onto the brake pedal - completely stopping my moving at all. But, when I take my food off the brakes at all, the car just has always raced away. There is no quarter impulse power (for you Star Trek fans). It is either All Stop or Warp Ten. My biggest challenge at this point of my effort is to learn how blend strictness with freedom.
For those of you who have read this blog for a long time, you realize that this is a very common theme in the posts. I have battled this with frozen yogurt, with brown rice, with peanut butter, with vanilla yogurt. Every time I come upon a food that is trying to cross from "avoidance for non-addiction reasons" to "eat with caution," I go through a ton of guilt and self-doubt. The sad things is that I don't even WANT to bring potatoes back into the fold. They add nothing to me. I don't like them enough to bring them back. They are just trouble waiting to happen. But I also don't want to feel like a cheating turd because I decide to eat them twice a year.
I'm not sure why it bothered me so much. I've been wrestling with a lot of mental warfare the last couple of days. Yesterday was one of my worst days in a LOOOONG time. The whole day was terrible. Gabe busted his lip. My wedding ring got mangled in the garbage disposal. We got charged for something we didn't order. And there was a lot of kid-related issues. By the end of the day, I was so hungry (after only having a yogurt and two bananas all day) that I just wanted to go and eat something without thinking about it. "Go get a hamburger! It's just one night! No big deal!" I haven't had to fight those thoughts off in months! I was kind of surprised that kind of attack was still in there. I ultimately just had some soup, to diffuse the attack. Maybe that was why I was so tough on myself today. [I wouldn't eat at Chick Fil A because I couldn't come up with something to get without feeling bad or not getting enough food.] I guess this is the cost of trying to do this right.
Freedom is two sided. On one hand, freedom means that I am free to NOT do things wrong. I don't have to do the stupid things that had defined me so much. I am free form that prison. But, freedom also means that I don't have to be legalistic. If the food is not one of those "Never under any circumstances" foods, then I should be free to partake of it - in a healthy and controlled manner. That is the freedom that I am still trying to get a handle on.
I just never thought I would be more comfortable eating purple chicken than red potatoes.
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