The Diet Naked Blog

Do you eat mindlessly?

I haven't been here for a few days.  I know.  That's never a good sign.

But my exercise streak continues.  I have exercised every day this year.  Hooray!

And I celebrated by 45th birthday.  My husband gave me a Wii Fit which gave me a "Wii Fit Age" of 42.  So there's that. 

Do you notice what I'm not talking about?  That's right.  My actual diet which is still making and keeping me fat.  Sad, very sad.  Also?  Frustrating and embarrassing and ridiculous.

So I will be trying again, starting over, so on and so forth . . . and reporting back here.  Look for me on Monday!  (I know.  It's just a Rule of the Universe to start a new diet--a new Lifestyle--on Mondays.)

Meanwhile, here's a link to an awesome site called Mindless Eating.  (Have you read the book of the same title yet?  It's very enlightening!) 

And the exercise streak continues!

My exercise streak is intact.  Yesterday was a very long day and I confess that I completely forgot about exercising until my husband mentioned, "...and you still have to exercise..."   I really did not WANT to exercise, but the beauty of the streak is that it doesn't matter what you want.  You just do it.  And I did. 

I managed to trip and hurt my right foot pretty badly about a week ago.  It hurts to walk, but luckily, does not hurt at all when I ride my exercise bike.

In other news, I have been (mostly) cookie-free since January 13.  I accidentally ate a cookie at a social gathering a week or so ago and didn't realize until afterward that I ate it.  I mean, I knew I ate it, but I had forgotten that I wasn't eating cookies.  I did not allow that as a reason to eat a whole batch of cookies, though, so that's something. 

A friend recently entered a weight-loss contest.  She told me that she wasn't worried about the eating and exercising part because "that's easy."  She's just worried about getting weighed in front of people.

And I thought how true it is.  Eating right and exercising is not hard if you really want to do it.  I'm frustrated with myself because I keep eating wrong and overeating.  It's like I want the results, but I don't really want to do the right thing.  WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?

But it's a new day.  And it's easy to eat right and exercise.  Right?

Am I hungry?

I'm reading this book called Eat What You Love, Love What You Eat  (There's a related website you can check out called Am I Hungry?)  And that's why tonight I was able to stop myself in the kitchen in the middle of a sort-of binge.

I simply placed my hand on my abdomen and said, "Am I hungry?" 

And I realized that no, I was absolutely not hungry.  So I stopped eating.

I was stressed out.  Tired.  Exhausted after spending almost my entire day with people that I don't know all that well.  (I have an acquaintance who is pregnant with twins who have Twin To Twin Transfusion Syndrome and she just had a specialized laser surgery to try to fix the problem with her unborn babies.  I spent my day, from 2 p.m. to 7 p.m. keeping her company and watching her two-year old and one-year old.  She's on complete bedrest.) 

People wear me out.  I am an introvert--not a crazy hermit-type, but spending time with people depletes me.

At 8 p.m., I left her house (with my 7-year old, who'd spent the whole day with me) and drove directly to a small-group gathering that I attend.  (About a dozen people, give or take.)  I probably shouldn't have gone to that meeting as I was already worn out, but I went.  Then, I returned home in time to work my usual three hour shift (from 9 p.m. to midnight).

I totally wanted to rest, to lay down and watch t.v., maybe, or read.  But I couldn't, because I had to work at my computer.

But I could eat.  And so I did.  I'll spare you the details, but I wasn't hungry after the fat-free popcorn--but I was crazed and kept eating.

At least I realized at some point that I was eating because I was wiped out, emotionally and physically.

So, check out that Am I Hungry? website.  I think it has some really valuable information presented in a clear and useful way.  And then you can ask yourself, "Am I hungry?" 

Smug

You know what I've realized post-weight gain?

There's nothing quite as repellent as a successful dieter who believes he or she has it all figured out.  Was that me?  Was I smug and so unaware?  Did I make people want to stab me in the temple back when the weight was melting off? 

I hereby vow that when I lose this weight (again), I will never ever bring up my weight loss in everyday conversation.  I will never suggest to someone that they do what I do.  I will never announce how many pounds I've lost.  I will never shake my head in pity or wonder why anyone would choose to stay overweight instead of just eating less and moving more.

Self-righteousness is annoying.  And that is not jealousy speaking but horror that maybe that's how I acted when I was wearing smaller pants.  

Humble pie has no calories, you know, so I don't mind eating it.

I will not be America's Next Top Model

Since I gained back (almost) all of my weight (how that pains me), my body looks worse than ever before. 

Maybe this is because I'm older now.  Time's taking it's toll on me.  (I'm going to be 45 in a couple of weeks.)  I have horrible skin, skin which stretches out and doesn't have any interest in springing back into shape.  The fat seems to have congregated with a vengeance in my mid-section in a most unflattering way.  I'm just being honest here.  Things are not pretty.

And whenever I really look at myself, I am disheartened.  It's super depressing to know that no matter how much weight I lose, no matter how much muscle mass I build, my stomach is always going to be ugly.  Stretchmarks stretch across my skin.  I am never going to be America's Next Top Model.

(At least I still have my sense of humor!)

At a certain age--my age, I guess--you have to stop thinking in terms of vanity and looks and start thinking in terms of health and vitality.  I really want to be healthy and fit.  I don't care so much about wearing a bikini (I never did in my life and I'm not about to start now).  I just want to be at a normal body weight.

Really.  I do.

But I still wish that I wasn't so disgusted with how I look.  I wish it didn't matter to me.  I wish I had no mirrors and had never decided when I was a small, normal-sized child that I was FAT. 

It's a sad way to live a life.  I should have been so thankful for my body.  Instead, I loathed it, even though there was nothing wrong with it at all. 

* * *

Today, I was cookie-free! 

Thank you all you kickers-in-the-extra-large-pants

You guys are awesome.  Really.  Did you read the comments in the previous post? All good sound advice, a mixture of tough love and incredulity and no-nonsense help.  Seriously, people, you should write an advice column.

Okay, so here's the deal.  I promise you--and me--that I'm off cookies.  Really.  Cookies are my crack and eventually I'm on the streets clutching cookies in my chubby little hands, stealing cars so I can fund my cookie habit.  (Okay, so I exaggerate, but only about the stealing cars thing.)

And with regards to the cookies--they were purchased from a school fundraiser and we have only a few more boxes left.  While I will not throw them away, I do hereby vow not to eat another one.  I know I'm tempting myself, maybe unnecessarily, but I am strong enough to resist.  If I want to.  Which I do because I want to wear smaller pants!

So, thanks everyone.  I PROMISE.  NO MORE COOKIES.  Let's say . . . until Christmas. 

Self-sabotage is so stupid and yet I can't stop doing it!

I'm eating healthy, whole foods, then ending each night with a bunch of cookies. Someone, please kick me.

At least my exercise streak is intact. I have exercised (mostly on my exercise bike) every day this month. However, the cookies . . . .

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?  (That is a rhetorical question; no answer expected.)

I finished my first week

My exercise streak is well underway, even though I've been exercise-bike riding instead of running/walking.

I have stayed up too late--I work until at least midnight and it's unfortunately common to look at the clock and realize it's almost 2:00 a.m. So I've napped after taking my daughter to school in the mornings. And then it's too late to run/walk.

But there's rarely a reason why I can't use my exercise bike after dinner (between shifts).

So, it's a balancing act I have to figure out. Exercise, sleep, and food--all important.

How do you find balance?

And then I stepped on the scale

I am trying to avoid the scale.  Not because I am afraid but because I know it's bad for me.  If it's "good", then I am happy.  If it's "bad", then I am sad.  If it's "good", I think, Oh, I could eat a cookie--the scale will never know.  If it's "bad", I think, Oh, what's the point--I think I'll eat a dozen cookies.

But this morning, I just wanted to know what it said.  I didn't get on the scale at the grand beginning of this new commitment.  (Monday!)  So I wasn't sure exactly if I was at the dreaded "all-time high" or not on Monday.  I hoped not, but I decided never knowing was all right with me.

Today, though, I wanted to know.  So I stepped on the scale and found myself at about the same weight I've been for a few months now.  Which--while that number is scary--is all right.  It's all right considering how much I ate during the holiday season.  Things could have (should have?) been so much worse.

I'm not going to be hopping on the scale every day or even every week.  (If I can resist it.  The scale is almost as much as an addiction as food for some of us.)

Instead, I'm going to do the right thing.  I'm eating whole foods as much as possible, avoiding sugar and white flour.  I'm going to finish reading the book about how to stop overeating.  I'm going to keep the big picture in mind, the long-term goal of being healthy and fit and unafraid to face whatever the future might hold.

(Because when I am fat I don't want to go anywhere or do anything and I certainly don't want to see anyone.  I can't focus on anything but the size of my pants.  It's a serious obstacle to living an actual life.)

Tosca Reno (fitness expert) says fitness is 80% diet, 10% exercise and 10% genetics.  (I'd like to thank my stocky great-grandparents for my apple shape.)  While I know my diet is the most important factor, exercise is a vital factor, too, almost for psychological reasons more than physical reasons which is funny when you think of it.  My Exercise Streak is alive and well--I either walk/run or ride the exercise bike (45 minutes on intervals). 

So, the scale is not the boss of me.  Cookies are not the boss of me.  I am the boss of me and I am going to get ahold of myself and get fit.  So there.

Exercise Streak: Day Four

Before Christmas I abandoned my Couch to 5K training program.  I intended to start over today.  Today, however, was a grim, gray, rainy day.  I considered riding my exercise bike instead but some lunatic part in my brain told me it would be fun to be outside.  Furthermore, it probably wasn't as bad outside as it seemed.

Two minutes into my session, I realized the walk-way was covered with a puddle.  I balanced on the curb for a few steps but then a car approached.  I intended to hop gracefully across the path onto the grass.  And that's how I ended up with two completely soaked feet.  Hello, puddle!  I didn't realize how far you stretched nor how deep you were!

So, fine.  Wet feet.  Big deal.  Then the voice said, "Run" and so I began to jog.  With each step my stretchy legging-type pants slid down.  Fortunately, the running sections only last sixty seconds.  If they'd been ninety seconds, I might have flashed someone.  As it was, during the "run" parts, my pants slid down and during the "walk" parts I tugged them back up.

Halfway around the park, I was completely soaked.  Now, I am not made of sugar and I do not fear melting, but I was terrified that my beloved iPhone would be ruined.  The iPhones do NOT like to get wet.  So I removed the phone from my non-zipping pocket of my jacket that turned not to be very water-resistant and moved it to . . . well, let's just say I balanced it under my shirt. 

That didn't work very well, either.  I had to run with one hand clutching the phone to my chest. 

So, when I circled around near my car, I quit.  I was five minutes short of the running/walking part and missed the five minute "cool down" entirely.  My whole session lasted only twenty minutes.

When I got home (dripping wet, soggy, chilled), I used my handy 10-pound weights to finish up my pathetic work-out.  Maybe this summer I won't be mortified to bare my arms if I use those weights enough.

* * *

I am riding my exercise bike (45 minutes) on the days I don't run/walk.  Now I have four days behind me.

How are you doing keeping your resolutions?