Goodbye, temptation! (Version 6,754)

Do you have one of those terrible tempting bowls of candy at work? Or in your house somewhere? There is one right outside my office that is lovingly refilled by a certain department almost daily, and I must pass it eight thousand times each day on one of my many, many pee breaks. (Speaking of, do you know why pregnant women pee so often? It’s not, as I’d always thought, something that only happens toward the end because there is no room for your bladder. It’s because pregnancy hormones make your kidneys more efficient! Wow.)

Since going off sugar in late December I have been cruising along just fine. I have passed up endless breakroom treats that used to sing their terrible siren song back in my sugar-addicted days (daze?).

Well today I had a bit more of a personal sugar temptation. I met a friend for lunch who I hadn’t seen since Christmas, and she gave me a belated present. It was a lovely, thoughtful card and a holiday tin full of candy. FULL OF CANDY. And some of it was peppermint candy I wasn’t too excited about, there were also two dark chocolate Ghirardelli squares.

But it’s funny. I took one look at it and didn’t really desire any of it. For a moment I felt the old hoarding instinct, that maybe I should keep the Ghirardelli for later, just in case.

But in case what? The stores ran out of chocolate? Hello, fat thinking! Once I realized this was absurd, I marched straight to the hallway candy bowl and emptied out all my candy into it. It’s not mine anymore, it belongs to whoever it is that passes the candy bowl and needs candy. That’s just not me anymore.

Sometimes I think I sound like a crazy anti-sugar convert. But it’s as if I lived my whole life without knowing I was drugged, and now suddenly I’m alert. It’s a nice, easy bliss born of discipline that seems to require no willpower; it’s the ultimate high.

Thank you sir, may I have another?

For your enjoyment, today I present a crappy photo as PROOF of how kickboxing kicked my ass last night, or more precisely, how it kicked my knee:

(No, I didn’t get kicked. At least not in the knee!)

I want to tell the story of going to kickboxing and kettlebell class yesterday, which was quite an experience. I came away with that bruise, which I think might be from floor pushups and planks? It’s a sign of a good class, I think, if I can’t quite remember what did it.

As you will recall, last week I set myself the task of finding some fitness classes that would help me exercise on a schedule, and I found One With Heart, a martial arts/yoga/fitness center with regular kickboxing and kettleball classes. Just my style, I thought. So last Thursday I took a tour of their facility, gawked at the legions of school age kiddies performing to a gallery of parents, admired their beautiful Yoga studio (dedicated, temple-like, to only be used for meditative arts) and got a good look at the main classroom, a large wooden-floored gym room which is bordered by weight machines, windows, mats and mirrors, and a line of those heavy hanging punching bags.

Brilliant! With schedule in hand, I decided to use one of my free passes to go to kickboxing last night with Teresa, who also gave me the tour. Yesterday I found myself nervously stretching before class. I was definitely the fattest person. Most likely the most out of shape. Half the class showed up barefoot, which clued me in to how many of them had trained in this before (shoes are optional, definitely eschewed by the highly skilled).

Well, aside from footwear, the other sign that my ass was going to be kicked was the fact that class started with one minute of jumping rope. Holy crap, what? I’m pretty sure that if I had been wearing a heartrate monitor I would have been kicked out at this point, as I am so out of shape that this was a real challenge. But I had to smile as I watched my belly bounce (I need a sports bra for my pooch!) in the mirror as I jumped–which was a huge victory for self-acceptance. It was hard but a lot of fun, really, when I wasn’t smacking myself in the face with the jumprope or getting it tangled in my sneakers! Seeing my own smile of joy in the mirror was really fun. No jiggle can erase that.

During the kickboxing class, we kicked the punching bag, we kicked a padded shield held by our partner, and we alternated that with more jumping rope, squats, running in place, and other assorted things. I felt a little disappointed about kicking, because I LOVE TO KICK THINGS, but I realized my surgeon would not be very pleased if I kicked with my left leg and ended up breaking the hardware I’m scheduled to get removed next month. Oops! So I got lots of kicks in on the right side instead :)

Somewhere in the middle of class I felt really naive for not bringing a water bottle. During our quick breaks I ducked into the kitchenette and drank from the sink using a flower-shaped rice bowl in the drainer. I definitely felt like the penitent warrior at the temple. Next time I will bring my bottle, oh great master!

After a half hour of that, I felt extremely tired and winded, but decided to stick around for the kettlebell session. We alternated 90 seconds of kettlebell, 90 seconds of floor core work, and 60 seconds of rest. It was incredibly fatiguing (I was nearly too weak to use the 8kg kettlebell) and towards the end it was really hard to get up off the floor. When that half-hour session was over (5:30-7:30 is a continuous session of half hour blocks, people just come in and out at will) I knew I was too shaky to continue, and I felt borderline light-headed when standing up. When I said goodbye to Teresa, she asked, “So are you coming back?” I told her maybe not this week, but definitely next week (!! what? my muscles protested), and thanked her for kicking my ass. At first I gave her a weak high five, but she made me retry, and on the second pass I managed a strong high five. I left feeling triumphant but shaky, a little overwhelmed by my lack of fitness.

At first I was convinced there was NO WAY I could go back for a second class in one week, but this morning I actually feel pretty good. There are strange new muscles in my butt and somewhere in my back. I think I could manage a second class if I wait until Thursday. I laugh now to think that Teresa told me the center is running a promotion right now — if you attend 20 classes in 30 days, they’ll give you a month membership free. Originally I didn’t think I’d want to drive there four times per week. But now I know that my poor weakling body wouldn’t SURVIVE that much asskicking! Ha.

My fearful side wants to retreat into lots of safe fat-thinking excuses about this class. They don’t understand I’m at a lower fitness level! My ankle is weird and I have really bad balance! I forgot my water! I can’t do planks! It’s hard to jump because I’m too fat! But after having all those thoughts and then doing it anyway last night, you know what? It doesn’t matter and they don’t care. If you stop to catch your breath in the middle of your 90-second Butterfly Of Doom, you keep going when you can. I can’t stop living  because I’m not perfect yet — life has to be the process of getting there, too.

Based on my experience yesterday, there are a few things I can do to make the process easier, though:

1. Better sports bra (mine is too small)
2. BRING A WATER BOTTLE, FOOL.
3. Snacks before class!
4. No loose yoga pants. You can’t jump rope if you have to keep hiking your pants up!

Okay, I think that’s it. I’m a little scared to commit to these classes, because they are so intense and HARD and I’m fat and I don’t know if I’m ready and and and. But I am going to calmly ignore all of those thoughts and just do it. Because the feeling of being awed by my body’s abilities, even when I’ve walked into a class in possibly the worst shape of my life, is unbeatable. Even half dead, I felt invincible.

Checking in – holding steady

Hi blogland! I’ve been away on vacation for the last week, but before that I was apparently on a blog-vacation, too. This blog is certainly doing its job keeping me accountable, because every time I read my Health & Fitness blogs on Google Reader, I ask myself, why haven’t I been writing lately? Rather than the dreaded blog guilt, I prefer to think of this as a healthy way to check my mental state.

Usually, if I’m not writing online (here and other places), it means I am either very busy, or too anxious to expose my thoughts. Sometimes both. Busy can be good, because it means I have projects at home or social engagements keeping me away from the internets, but it can also mean I’m so busy that I forget to slow down, understand whether I’m eating nutritiously or emotionally, and all those other important slow-going thoughts that help keep me on an even keel.

The good news is that despite being busy (with work, projects, vacation), I have held a steady weight. My quick weight loss of the last month seems to be slowing down now. I don’t know whether this is because I’m just barely eating healthy enough to keep up with decadent vacation food (hamburger and fries! margaritas! chocolate desserts!), but I’m very happy that my weight hasn’t crept up. I’m holding around 206 right now, and since I’m starting a new week with good food choices lined up in front of me, maybe I will start to head toward 200 and beyond!

As happy as I am with the weight loss from my re-dedication to good, healthful eating, I recognize that over the last month I have really pulled away from exercise. It’s the heat, it’s the possible sunburns, it’s a million excuses (including the ever-indulgent But I Don’t Have Cute Enough Workout Gear excuse). I know my body and how it reacts to heat, which is to stay as far away as possible, so partly I just need to accept that this is how my summer is going to be. I am very pleased with my weight loss, and I’m continuing with weekly Yoga and hula dancing, and that is what this summer is going to continue to look like for me, with the occasional extra walk or bike ride, and I’ll be happy with my plateaus or gradual losses until I decide it’s time to add in more exercise. (Note: the pep talk in my previous entry did not work at all. I never took that walk after all. But it’s not defeat, it’s just another signal from my body that I have to understand is just as valid as the pep talk. )

On vacation, my husband and I drove up the Columbia Gorge and visited several waterfalls, stayed in a hotel at a hot springs, and drove into the Hood River Valley for some amazing peaches and Rainier cherries. Yum. We also visited two wineries, one amazing and one rather bad :) Here is the view from the good one, Cathedral Ridge:

I absolutely loved the scenery in the Gorge, but mostly I was thrilled about our private hottub in the hotel!

Isn’t that amazing? However, it was also a painful reminder of how I feel my self-esteem holds me back. A while ago I decided that my ultimate day trip would be to hike up to a hot springs and soak in it with friends. But it also sounds ludicrous to me! Exercise, followed by exposing my sweaty flesh in front of strangers? Hence the private hot tub, which was nice because it was our first wedding anniversary (wink), but also because I felt insulated from all the anxieties normally called up by anything vaguely associated with swimming in public. I would not have dreamed of going down to the amazing pool at the resort, or the enormous outdoor hot tub — I definitely felt I was hiding away. As usual, I’m struggling to understand when it is okay to take things slow and not excite my anxieties unnecessarily, and when I’m really avoiding reality or giving in to fat thinking. I’m filing these thoughts away for later, though, because sometimes feelings are just going to be confusing like that.

Until next time, friends. I hope everyone is avoiding sunburns, finding ways to eat the amazing produce in the markets, and loving themselves this summer! I know I’m trying every day, even when my plans don’t always turn out exactly the way I thought they would.

Stretching out

It’s hard to do anything in life when you think that you have only two options:

1. Fail spectacularly in a terrified stupor, or:
2. Hide under the covers.

But that is really how low self-esteem works! The rare middle ground lasts mere moments, and for me was usually like this: Holy cow I am flying so high and I feel really good oh shit this can’t be real wow the ground is approaching real fast. [Splat.]

I read a great article today in the NY Times, “Can you become a creature of new habits?” (May 4, 2008) that made me think about this stuff. Dawna Markova and M.J. Ryan posit that there are three states of existence that we move through when seeking change: a zone of comfort, stretch or stress.

Comfort is the realm of existing habit. Stress occurs when a challenge is so far beyond current experience as to be overwhelming. It’s that stretch zone in the middle — activities that feel a bit awkward and unfamiliar — where true change occurs.

Fearful thinking (fat thinking) makes me think there is only Safe and on the other side, Scary. There’s no such thing as Stretch in between! Because sticking around in that “awkward and unfamiliar” state takes guts. Elsewhere in the article, Markova says, “You cannot have innovation unless you are willing and able to move through the unknown and go from curiosity to wonder.”

And that curiosity, for me, requires a bit of self-love. Otherwise, my curiosity turns harsh and all I can see is a myriad of awful, damning faults. I have to be curious and gentle, and I have to be willing to let that curiosity morph into wonder and excitement. That’s the feeling I had when I rode a bicycle last week for the first time in over a decade. That’s the feeling I have when I go walking somewhere new and I find beautiful places and can feel my legs moving strongly beneath me. That’s the feeling I want to feel more and more. It’s nice to know, from the researchers profiled in this article, that this feeling will help me become more aware of the world and change ingrained habits.

What am I doing here?

I’m making some changes in my life. Here is my blog where I want to blab on and on about it!

I want to start this blog by cataloging everything that I think is wrong with me — but that’s part of the problem. I want to start with numbers and metrics and Iron Clad Plans, but that’s part of the problem, too. I do want to talk about all of this, though, and that is a big change, and perhaps the best place to start.

Okay, but I do have to talk about what I want to change, right? Here goes: I don’t want to be overweight. If you want to get technical about it, the BMI scale places me squarely in the obese range. I am 5′5″ and 213 pounds, and I barely fit into size 18 pants and XL tops. I have always been The Fat Girl, in my mind. It’s true what they say, that fat is a state of mind, because it’s not about being fat, it’s about not liking yourself. In 2001, in fact, I hated myself so much that I starved myself to a normal weight. But did I ever like my body? Heck no! I had zero self-esteem, and I was convinced that my wobbly stomach, thick thighs, and lumpy hips were still enormous, exactly as bad as they had always been. In fact, I would say that I disliked my body as much back then as I dislike it today, when I’m carrying over 90 pounds of excess fat. The whole time, I told myself that I would be happy if only I was skinny! Oh the magical life of slimness! It would be full of fun and love and beauty!

So what I want to do is change my way of thinking. I don’t just need to eat more vegetables and get more exercise, I need to affirm my love for myself and a self-image that incorporates active living. My lifelong fat thinking has taught me that as a fat person, I don’t go on walks out of the blue, and I don’t go have fun in a park just to enjoy a beautiful day. But what am I waiting for? What is the point of that waiting? There is not some “You Must Be This Thin To Enjoy This Activity” sign I need to worry about.

I need to start living like I enjoy life today, because I do, and I can, and I will. I can’t hide away and exercise in private until one day I can emerge newly toned and fit and ready to enjoy life! The mentality of hiding away until I’m “ready” is the same mentality that keeps me eating bad foods, or sitting on the couch feeling too dejected to go for a walk. I might not have gained all this weight in some deep dark cave, but I’ve certainly been holding my true self hostage in the dark for a long time. I made myself feel bad for wanting life, for enjoying life, because I didn’t deserve any of that if I was so fat.

Hiding in the quiet, too fearful to face my own self in the mirror or even the thoughts in my head? That is the mentality that allowed me to gain weight while pretending it didn’t matter, or it would be fixed later, or it was unfixable entirely. Part of my journey to a healthier life will be learning it is okay to be out in the real world, being every inch my glorious human self. I have to remind myself that I deserve good things, I deserve love and health and fun because I am putting good energy out into the universe, damnit! For so long I thought I was permanently in debt for every extra ounce I carried on my body, that no matter how good I was, it could never make up for my fatness. Now I’m learning that I have to take care of myself now, and love myself now, or that Future Beautiful Self will never emerge. My Beautiful Self is who I am now.

Anyway. That’s what I’m doing here. I want to write about making a beautiful life, loving myself through movement and good food.