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The Battle Between Me and Me


Fighting over a fish

Originally uploaded by clintnosleep

Last night I went to see the movie “Inception.” One of the ideas in the film was about planting a seed in someone’s unconscious so that it grows and takes over. This morning I felt like such a seed had somehow gotten planted in my mind. The seed was, “Your health and fitness have gotten in the way of your writing life.” Which may or may not be true. Maybe I’ve just made certain choices this past year.

But this morning I felt like an all-out war was going on inside my head. It literally took my breath away, the incredible degree of anger and venom between the various parts of me.

So as you all know, I run this annual camp every summer during which time I put everything else in my life aside. It’s just all consuming. But I have especially had to put aside my writing life, which most of the past 15 years has been very very important to me. Last year, after camp, I did not “go back” to my writing because the writing had been laid aside so I could focus on my health.

This year, though, the writing has been pressing its face to the glass, wondering, When is it MY TURN? I ran into one of my best writing friends this week and we made a mutual commitment to write 20 pages a week. I was so excited. Here, finally! So this morning I got up. The whole day stretched in front of me. I wanted to write. But I also wanted to go for a long walk. And I felt like whichever one cam first would sort of dictate the rest of the day. If I put the walk off, it might never happen. If I put the writing off, I’d get distracted. Which one was going to get those clean, prime morning hours?

As it turned out, neither and both. I felt like a screaming, knock-down, hairpulling, knife-wielding fight was going on inside my head. I felt paralyzed and as if I couldn’t do either. Finally, I went off on my walk, but I was MAD about it. Believe me, this is not a good way to do exercise.

WM (Writing Me) was yelling at HM (Healthy Me). I can’t believe you’re getting away with it! Again!!!!!!!!!! All year I’ve stepped aside so YOU could get all the spare time. And you take up every freaking minute. If you’re not going for a walk, you’re writing on that stupid blog (and NO, that does NOT COUNT as “writing!”). Or you’re going to Weight Watchers. Or taking pictures of food. There’s never any time for meeeeeeeeeeeee any more!

(me. In shock. In between)

Now I’m mad at Healthy Me. I’m sobbing. I’m outraged. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I’ve freaking GIVEN UP for you?!?!? I’m feeling betrayed by myself. I’m feeling so angry. I’m feeling like I somehow got tricked into the illusion that This Is All There Is. While meanwhile, my books have been languishing, unwritten. All my computer will do is blog. My novel(s) are dead. My collection of short stories, dead. Nonfiction book: dead.

The realization of this just killed me. I sobbed and wailed and yelled at my husband (who was coming down off the trail and gave me a nice compliment). I tried to articulate for him what was going on and he said something to the effect (I am paraphrasing) that of course my health has to come first. Which made me fly even MORE into a frenzy. I took off up the hill, sobbing even more.

Long walk. Two hours. (in which I had to convince myself that I was doing this walk to THINK, not for the purposes of EXERCISE so that WM would not throw HM off a nearby cliff.)
It just so happens that when I was deep in my Writing Self, I didn’t give a crap about my health. Or exercise. My writing was everything. It took a lot of time, and attention, and energy.

So when my Healthy Self came along, Writing Self had to go on the back burner for a long time. And was fairly patient about it for a long time. But the time has apparently come for that patience to RUN OUT and Writing Self wants my time and energy and attention back. In a big way. Problem is, I now have a bunch of jobs, even though one is not as intense as it has been. I am still going to have to divvy it up.

And I’m just exhausted. I feel like I cannot parse out every single minute of my free time. I need time to do NOTHING, too. (aka the Nothing Self)

The walk was good. It calmed me down. It wore me out. During the walk, my older girl called me. It was so good to talk to her. I will be seeing her in a few weeks for my birthday, and I can’t wait. She understood the post-camp letdown, the exhaustion, the just being so tired you want to cry all the time.

I don’t know that it is an impossible thing, to have these two things that mean so very much to me. I can’t figure it out right now. But I think it was good to realize how important they both are.

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Guest Post: Pat Barone on Driving Permanent Weight Change

I’m happy to welcome Pat Barone to guest-post for me while I’m away this week. She’s been a great inspiration to me and I had the pleasure of meeting her earlier this year. She’s a wonderful teacher and guide for many. Welcome Pat!

Driving Permanent Weight Change

After a lengthy destructive relationship with food, I set out to lose weight one final time.  I knew I had a lot of learning to do because everything I’d ever tried in my life, literally hundreds of diets, had not kept the weight off.

But I had put my cowgirl boot down.  I would do what was necessary to lose weight, but I wasn’t taking it back.  Ever.

The lessons turned out to be profuse:  jaw-dropping scientific data, mindbending “ah-ha” moments, and deep personal shifts in my attitude and beliefs.  Literally, everything changed for me while I was losing weight and during the 10 years I’ve maintained that weight loss.

One lesson that sticks with me actually involved my car.  One day, I stopped at a local gas station and filled up my gas tank.  A while later, my car started sputtering and acting as if the engine was going to die. The car wouldn’t accelerate and I felt as though I was put-puttering along while cars all around me sped by.

I immediately connected the lack of performance with the new gas. It would run fine for a few blocks, then start the hesitation/sputtering routine again.

It was pure frustration!  It just wouldn’t go!

I continued driving the car until it was about a quarter of a tank below full and refilled at another gas station. The problems lessened but were still there.  Again, I drove it until it was a quarter of a tank less than full and refilled again. The problems ceased.

I realized I never got emotional about the bad gas (probably mixed with water) that I bought.  I didn’t blame myself for it.  I made a mental note never to buy from that particular gas station again, I did what I could to solve the problem, and I moved on.

Deeply immersed in weight loss, it occurred to me that, if I handled my own poor body fueling as sensibly, I might not have so many issues around food.

After all, food is fuel for your body. It’s the gasoline of life. That is all it is.

It isn’t an emotional caretaker, a shoulder to cry on, or a best friend.

My own poor fueling decisions usually involve carbs or sugar that set off the carb craving cycle.  This craving cycle calls up too much insulin from the body, putting stress on it internally (even if you are not diabetic).

Would the way I handled my car’s gasoline work with my own fuel?  It might look like this:

  1. Take my energy down a quarter tank.
  2. Refuel with protein.
  3. Live life until my energy is down a quarter tank again.
  4. Refuel with protein.
  5. Rinse, repeat.

Separating eating and food from negative thinking and emotions turned out to be a huge step in changing my attitude about food.  Whenever I see myself becoming attached to a certain food, or I hear “an energy buzz” around it, I know I’m putting more meaning into that food than it deserves or I want.

Then, it’s time to take a step back and remember:  Food is fuel.

This doesn’t mean I don’t really enjoy food, all types of food:  rich and mild, exotic and tame, new favorites and old.

But I’ll take my meal without the extra helping of charged emotion, or the label of “good” or “bad”, or the guilt, thank you!

Pat Barone, CPCC, PCC

Pat Barone earned her title “America’s Weight Loss Catalyst” by coaching thousands of clients toward permanent weight loss.  Her status as an expert is heightened by her own personal weight loss success.  In March, 2010, she celebrated 10 years at her current weight, which is 75 lbs. less than her highest weight.  She regularly busts diet myths in her free newsletter “The Catalyst”, available at http://www.patbarone.com and blogs at http://www.stoprentingweightloss.com.
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Tiptoeing away from Sugar

First of all, just another shout-out to Mary who, at her tender young age, has managed to be an amazing mentor for me in so many ways. First, she introduced me to foodblogging which has proved to be nothing short of miraculous. It stopped two binges in their tracks yesterday. Amazing.

Another thing that Mary does, which I observed during her visit with me, but did NOT PARTICIPATE in, is her practice of only eating sugar (processed sugar) on weekends. I was like, hmm. Okay.

Now, as a diabetic person, I probably could benefit from not eating sugar at ALL. And I know plenty of people who do not eat sugar AT ALL. But cutting any food out of my repertoire completely just freaks me out. And it is important to me to feel like I can 1. maintain my weight loss, and 2. maintain good diabetic health, while continuing to enjoy certain sugar experiences once in a while. (cupcakes, anyone?)

I never eat large amounts of sugar. Mostly they are very small amounts of things- a teaspoon of ice cream, a sugar-free candy, (I’m going to count that as “sugar” for now because it does contain a certain type of sugar), some low-carb chocolate or a Skinny Cow. I do not go all out and have a hot fudge sundae.

Anyway, this week, after the big wedding weekend, I decided to come back to “basics.” And I noticed that I didn’t eat sugar on Monday or Tuesday. (today is Wednesday) I noticed it didn’t kill me. Or upset me. Or make me feel deprived.

So I’ve decided to gently see how this feels. I’m not doing it as a Challenge, or a Vow, or anything like that. I’m just doing it out of curiousity, for as long as it lasts. I’m not putting a time limit on it or anything. It’s just…. an experiment.

By the way, I don’t notice any difference (after 2 days) in how I feel. It’s not like I feel lighter and happier and free from the Evil Substance. I’m more noticing how I don’t feel like I’m suffering. Which is fine.

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Week 2 of Foodblogging: What I’ve Learned, Part 2

I’m still at it. I’m having fun. I’m liking it. And I’m still learning new things.

This weekend, for example, I learned that it is possible to take photos of your food and still gain weight! (ha) Saturday was a perfect example of Too Much Of A Good Thing. (well, actually, NOT too much, but perhaps too much to LOSE weight) I don’t regret a single bite of anything. I don’t feel like I binged. But I know, and especially looking back, that that was a day that I ate really healthy food (perhaps with the exception of the bread and butter, and the cream puff at the end!) but more than was necessary, um, physiologically speaking. I mean: grilled vegetables! Salmon! Shaved zucchini salad! It was all good good food. It was delicious. I ate “in moderation.” All in all, I’d consider it a Success. I did  not feel deprived; I ate good things, I was happy.

I also learned that it is possible (well, I knew THIS one already) to eat not enough of Not Very Good Food. This was pretty much yesterday. I was still really full from Saturday AND I was really busy so I did not eat very much. But what I did eat wasn’t the most ideal stuff. A lot of carbs, not enough produce.

Last week I took some photos of lunch while at work. I think my co-workers thought I was a little, um… special. As my daughters would say. But I took them anyway.

I’m excited that since I’ve started this process, a few of my blogging buddies have joined in and are photoblogging too. I’m having a great time following their food, and learning all sorts of things. Here’s Karen’s, and Pubsgal’s, and Sweeter’s. Welcome to foodblogging, friends!

The process is continuing to fascinate me and every day I notice more and more new things. Onward!

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It’s Working.. And I Didn’t Even Ask It To

Remember my “wish” to lose ten pounds maybe, like sort of?  Well, after much deliberation I decided to not sweat it or “try” to do anything; I’d just keep doing whatever I was doing, and whatever happened, would happen.

Then Mary came to visit and I watched her take pictures of all her food. For the first 3 days, I just watched her, and I ate all the yummy things she was eating PLUS MORE. The weight started creeping up. Then on her fourth day, I started foodblogging as well.

See what happened? That’s my weight up there. From the very first day. This was not on purpose, ie I wasn’t “trying” to lose weight, I was just trying to be more mindful and accountable for what I ate.

The one little uptick you see there is the day I forgot to take my medication which allows me to not look like a watery bloated sausage.

The difference between the top of the graph and the bottom of the graph (today) is 5.2 pounds.

Just sayin’.

I’m taking my camera with me EVERYwhere from now on. 🙂

EDITED: Hmph. Facebook tells me that this blog post has been rated as “abusive” by Facebook users and so they have disabled the link. What is THAT about? Am I being boycotted by anti-scale people??

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Pressure Cooker


Steaming cooker

Originally uploaded by Intrudēr

The next three weeks are going to be the most pressurized, intense weeks of my entire year. I run a camp, that takes all year to prepare for, and it takes place the last week in July.

I’ve been doing this for six years now. For the first several years, I viewed this period of time (actually, all summer) as an opportunity to completely throw in the towel and give up on any remnants of fitness or healthy eating. It was really just an excuse. I’d cancel my trainer, eat like there was no tomorrow, and it was just stress piled on stress. It felt inevitable. When camp itself came, I would literally inhale the crazy carbs they served: sloppy joes and mac and cheese and tacos and hotdogs and french toast and ALL OF IT, and I believed the more I ate, the calmer (read: more anesthetized) I’d feel.

Last year was the first year that I tried to get through the summer without my customary meltdown. It went pretty well and I managed to get to my Lifetime status at WW in the summer. But the ghosts of past camp seasons are always around to haunt, and it’s so easy to just succumb to the pressures and just say “I give up!” for now.

I really don’t want that to happen this year. This year is the biggest camp in our whole history. We’re in a brand-new site that is giving me HIVES with their incomprehensible difficulties and insane little rules. So I am just prime for all sorts of falling down.

Today we had a staff powwow to assess all we need to do in the next 2 weeks. It is a LOT. And either it will get done, or it won’t. But just making that list almost put us all over the top.

One of my co-workers ordered a sandwich with extra bacon. I suddenly thought, what can *I* have?? I deserve this! I need something extra-special!! All the old song and dance. I spied a triple-decker Havarti grilled cheese on the menu of my favorite takeout place. THAT’S what I want! I thought. But I was deep in a task which kept me busy for a while longer. During which time I got to really think about what it was that I wanted.

I wanted to eat something that would not stress me even further, or put me to sleep, or make me feel bad about myself. I thought. I needed PROTEIN. So I went to the Thai place and got a cup of chicken coconut soup, and some chicken satay skewers. I didn’t touch even a grain of rice. I had the cucumber salad and a little dollop of peanut sauce. Then I was able to go back and face the rest of my afternoon (and evening, as it turns out) of work.

It’s going to take EVERYTHING I HAVE to remain conscious, and present, and healthy, during these next weeks. If I can emerge August 1 in a good place, I will be very grateful. Cross your fingers for me. Or leave me lots of comments for strength. ❤

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Farmers Market with Mom

Today I took my mother to the Farmers Market for the first time. She’s never been with me before. As incredible as this may seem, I normally go to the FM while she is at church. Today is the day of the church picnic, which for some reason she does not enjoy. So she played hooky from church and came to the Farmers Market with me.

It was an interesting experience. I think the open stands and the people giving out food and the crowds and just the sheer experience of it was a little over the top for her. And I think the concept- of farmers bringing their fresh, in-season produce – to neighborhoods, was just not something that she’s ever thought about.

As I’ve been on this “healthy journey,” as we call it, I have had to think a lot about the decades-long habits I first learned when I was growing up. There were a lot of things I look back on now and shake my head. She was doing her best, and doing what many others did at the time. Back in the 70s, when I was young, frozen dinners were seen as this very cool new thing, a convenient, happy thing, and the same with fast food.

My father was a traveling salesman and he was gone 75% of the time, traveling. So when it was both her and me (I was an only child) we subsisted 100% on frozen TV dinners, fast food takeout, or if it was a real special night, teriyaki hotdogs over rice. We’d go through the aisles of the A & P and fill the cart with frozen blocks of food, some her favorites, and some mine. We got to have whatever we wanted.

Every night, she’d offer me the choice between a “vegetable” – usually iceberg lettuce with “Russian dressing” (mayo + ketchup) or a plate of cold tofu with soy sauce on it. Nine times out of ten, I chose the tofu. I think in her mind, tofu = “vegetable” because it was “healthy.” Or something like that. Needless to say I did not ingest many vegetables probably until I went to college. I remember coming home my freshman year and buying alfalfa sprouts and avocados and she was like, Oh you hippy.

Every day after school, she and I would sit down to “Snack” – milk plus cookies or cake or something sweet. (Ding Dongs? Twinkies? Coconut Snowballs?)

That was my life. For her, not much has changed. She still has an ongoing love affair with McDonald’s and gets insulted if anyone insinuates that fast food is in any way bad. Brown rice makes her shudder. Same with whole wheat bread. She will put up with our vegetables and our salads and such, but if given her preference, she would live on chocolate. And salami.

Sometimes I find myself getting annoyed when I see her food choices and I know that I am forever trying to untie the knots that she showed me so long ago, and which still live inside me. Those kinds of foods are the ones that sustained me for almost the first two decades of my life, and where I want to go when I am feeling needy or just, want to GO BACK there. (to a place of mindlessness and just NOT KNOWING how unhealthy it all was)

It was hard not to wince when she beelined to the kettle corn and the chocolate sorbet and the pastries. It’s not what I can do anymore. And as far as her making these choices? Listen. She’s almost 88. She is in good physical condition and who am *I*, her kid, to be telling her what to do? She has made it this far. And for now, food is one of the pleasures enjoys. I’m not going to take them away from her for the sake of her longevity. Maybe I’m an enabler when I buy her chocolate. But she’s 88. She still bowls a 175 every week. She can walk more than two miles. She’s doing so much better than people a decade younger than her.

So today we went to the farmers’ market. She got a bunch of corn. (one of the few vegetables she likes) She smelled the basil and liked that, but wouldn’t know what to do with it. She bought a cheese Danish and had some samples of peaches and bolanis. She said “no thank you” to the free blueberries and sped-walked past the vegetable stands. I thought about where we came from and where I am now. It’s a lot to think about.

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Is Exposing Your Food Like Exposing Your Privates?

One of my friends said to me that my food blog was upsetting her. “I think what we eat is really private!” she said. “And political! I would never show people what I eat.” (or some such thing. I am paraphrasing) This intrigued me. “What do you mean by political?” I asked.

“I would be afraid that people would judge me, for going out to eat too much, for not cooking enough or whatever.” This was fascinating to me. Of course people could certainly judge ME for going out to eat too much because I do it like every five minutes, but that’s not the kind of judgement that I care about or that worries me.

I have been guilty and embarrassed and ashamed of various food I’ve eaten for years decades, but not for political reasons. For deeply personal reasons. I think now, how I would feel if someone had pulled a camera on me when I sat in my car eating a pint of macaroni and cheese or chocolate pudding or one of my other comfort/binge foods. I would have died a million deaths. So for me, it is incredibly empowering to be exposing/outing myself and my food. And to shed light on it is one of the most amazing things I have ever done.

Mary said to me that food blogging basically eliminated most of her mindless and compulsive eating, which pretty much made my eyes bug out of my head. And which made me want to try to do this. So far, I have to say, it’s been an incredible experience. I’m learning so much about myself.

For someone who spent so much of my psychic life eating in a closet, this is really HUGE.

I’m finding that photographing my food is almost like a prayer, a little premeal ritual, and almost like meditation. It is deeply contemplatative. I think about my food, consider it from angle, think about if I do want to eat it, how much I want, etc. I want it to look good. I want to feel committed to it. Believe me, this is something I did not used to do. Often I would almost eat with my eyes closed because I would not want to see what I was doing.

It’s only been four days. But I’ve gotta say, it’s changing me. And I’m not embarrassed.

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Runner’s HIGH!


Roadwork girls

Originally uploaded by B℮n

I had the best run ever today. And I mean maybe the best run I’ve ever had in my life. I can’t remember another time when running has felt so absolutely effortless, pain-free (YES!) and joyful. I just set out intending to walk, but then Earth Wind & FIre “Fantasy” came on and that got me GOING. And instead of my usual little old-lady run, (very short strides, more like a fast shuffle) I just WENT with it, and I was like, FLYING, uphill! It felt so so so good. Then I walked a bit. Then another song came on and again I just pumped it out.

Partially it just felt great to do that. It was a cool, beautiful morning in the woods. Partially I was rehearsing for the Weight Watchers 5k walk I am going to be leading this Friday (SO excited about this!). I was thinking about telling the members about stride length and pace, and remembering all I’d learned from my racewalking coach with Team in Training.

But all of a sudden I thought, what if I just ran… like a gazelle? (OK, don’t laugh) Instead of like the little old lady I’d started to think of myself as being, since my ankle got injured again. And my body just took off. It took off and I was like, WOO HOOOOOOOOO look at this!

I was also trying to show my Phillips Directlife monitor a thing or two. According to it, I’m not running even when I think I’m running. So today I was like, “I’m RUNNING, dammit!” I wanted to know exactly what I need to do for the stupid thing to actually register as “you are running.” As it turns out, it takes this “running like a gazelle” thing as opposed to the little old lady shuffle. Figures.

Anyway, I feel a renewed happiness about running. I hope I can run like this again because it felt so awesome. But to just have experienced it this one time was amazing. Now I’m even more excited for the 10k Trail Run/Hike I signed up for in September. Who wants to join me? Brunch at my house afterward because it is just 3 blocks away!

(note: that is not me in the photograph, but it looks a lot like my woods and it is how I FELT)

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