Target has a new kind of ad campaign this year for their swimsuits. They say the premise is " Living confidently, on one’s own terms." You can check it out here. They show normal women in swimsuits without photoshopping out their stretchmarks and thigh pudge and other normal body things. What a great campaign!
I always look at marketing campaigns like this, whether it's Target or Dove or any number of others that have popped up over the years, as positive steps forward in dispelling the notion of the perfect body. However, the notion of the perfect, thin, flawless body has been beaten into all of society for generations. It's not something that's going away with a few ad campaigns. That glamour bullshit drives sales and shapes our own relationships with our bodies. It's great to see the Target campaign, but ultimately, we all have to fight back against what has been beaten into our heads for years. We have to love our bodies for what they can do, how they look, how we feel, and more. That's the needle we can move on this scale of body acceptance.
I know I've talked recently about some of the ways that my relationship with my body has caused anxiety and depression, but that's only part of the story. I also have moments of feeling strong and confident. When I'm eating well and exercising, I increase those positive feelings, not because my body all of a sudden becomes perfect, but because eating well and activity make me FEEL better. It's so counter-intuitive. I would have thought sitting on the couch eating bon bons in a comfortable moo moo would have increased good feelings, but it turns out that's not the case.
How do you guys feel about your bodies, and what do you do for self-care and to feel confident and happy?
Sunday, May 7, 2017
Saturday, May 6, 2017
Whole30 Day 6, A Massage, and a Nap
I have brushed and water-picked my teeth which means I am finished eating for the day. I've taken to brushing and water-picking my teeth as soon as I finish dinner so I'm not tempted to eat a snack later. It's too much effort to have to brush my teeth again, so when I'm done, I'm done. The fear of losing my teeth is greater than my need to snack later in the evening, and my laziness at wanting to redo all the brushing and picking outweighs my snacking too. I'm using my laziness and anxiety to my advantage, and it's weird that both of those emotions can exist in the same breath.
Today was a decent food day. I had breakfast, second breakfast (also known as post-workout meal), lunch, and dinner. I also went swimming this morning, hence the post-workout meal. I really enjoyed today's swim, the first one I have enjoyed since starting back. I reread the section of the book that talks about the post-workout meal, and I kind of screwed it up today. They recommend a protein and a carby vegetable like sweet potato, and no added fat. They recommend that in place of protein and a fruit. I had two hard boiled eggs, a banana, and cashew butter. Whoops. Fruit and fat. I'll know for tomorrow.
I also had a major treat for myself today in the form of 90 minute massage with the Amazing Eve. That's not his real name, but I can't help but put the Amazing in front of his name because he really is a great massage therapist. You can visit Eve's website here, and if you live in Southern Arizona, you should definitely see Eve for a treatment. Amazing.
After getting home from Tucson and my massage, I had a nice nap on the couch with Taz. Hooray for naps!
I'm planning my food week for this coming week, and one thing I'm going to try is hamburgers with portabello mushroom buns. I usually just eat the burger with a fork, no bun, but I'm giving this mushroom bun business a shot this week. I'm also having shrimp and vegetables and a chicken salad for lunch. Breakfast is usually two eggs, Whole30 compliant bacon, blueberries, and sauteed spinach or zucchini. I also eat an apple a day. Who doesn't love an apple? Honeycrisp is my apple of choice.
That's it for today. Nothing exciting or enlightening, just another day where I'm glad I stuck to the plan.
Today was a decent food day. I had breakfast, second breakfast (also known as post-workout meal), lunch, and dinner. I also went swimming this morning, hence the post-workout meal. I really enjoyed today's swim, the first one I have enjoyed since starting back. I reread the section of the book that talks about the post-workout meal, and I kind of screwed it up today. They recommend a protein and a carby vegetable like sweet potato, and no added fat. They recommend that in place of protein and a fruit. I had two hard boiled eggs, a banana, and cashew butter. Whoops. Fruit and fat. I'll know for tomorrow.
I also had a major treat for myself today in the form of 90 minute massage with the Amazing Eve. That's not his real name, but I can't help but put the Amazing in front of his name because he really is a great massage therapist. You can visit Eve's website here, and if you live in Southern Arizona, you should definitely see Eve for a treatment. Amazing.
After getting home from Tucson and my massage, I had a nice nap on the couch with Taz. Hooray for naps!
I'm planning my food week for this coming week, and one thing I'm going to try is hamburgers with portabello mushroom buns. I usually just eat the burger with a fork, no bun, but I'm giving this mushroom bun business a shot this week. I'm also having shrimp and vegetables and a chicken salad for lunch. Breakfast is usually two eggs, Whole30 compliant bacon, blueberries, and sauteed spinach or zucchini. I also eat an apple a day. Who doesn't love an apple? Honeycrisp is my apple of choice.
That's it for today. Nothing exciting or enlightening, just another day where I'm glad I stuck to the plan.
Friday, May 5, 2017
Whole30 Day 5. I Don't Wanna Taco Bout It.
Day five is in the books. This day was interminable, and I was hungry a lot. Well, maybe I wasn't hungry so much as missing my dear friends muffin and donut. Sigh. It's so hard to say goodbye to your friends.
I just finished dinner. It was a surprisingly delicious taco salad. I used a seasoning recipe that my friend Shelli shared with me from Danielle Walker's Against All Grain cookbook. It was a good seasoning mix, and I felt very satisfied for the first time since breakfast. The salad included the ground taco beef, avocado, pico de gallo, lettuce, and chopped olives. I would eat this again, which is a good thing because I have two more salads worth of taco meat to use.
The middle part of my day wasn't the most amazing. I had meetings in Tucson and Phoenix today, which meant I had to pick the lunch place wisely and also pack snacks. I was with a coworker and one of our consultants all day, and the lunch options were a basic American fare brew pub, PF Chang's, or a Japanese steakhouse. Since PF Chang's and Japanese food are all soy covered in soy with a side of soy (which I can't eat during this month), I requested the first option, BJ's Brewpub.
Here's the trick about eating out. People love to put cheese on things. They also love to mix cheese into things. And once they've put tons of cheese on and in things, they like top it with some kind of bread product.
I took me a long time to figure out what to order that had the least modifications and the least likely chance of it being screwed up. "Hamburger, no cheese, no bun. Did I mention no cheese? Great. Beet, arugula salad, no goat cheese. No french fries." Lunch was fine, and I am going to guess that the vinaigrette wasn't totally Whole30 kosher. I'm just impressed I didn't also order the cookie, ice cream sundae.
My main snack was a baggie of pumpkin seeds which helped take the edge off until my coworker decided that on the way back from Phoenix we would stop at Culver's for a bathroom break and an ice cream treat for him. He hesitated for a moment, but I told him I would be fine with it. I can do this!!! I can do this? For those of you that don't know what Culver's is, it is a fast-food chain of crack houses, and the drugs they peddle are homemade custard desserts and burgers cooked in butter. I got a bottle of water. He ordered a chocolate, vanilla turtle sundae with pecans, chocolate sauce, and caramel sauce. It smelled like heaven with a cherry on top. Literally. There was a plastic cup of heaven and a cherry rested right on the top. Right then and there I decided I was eating my emergency snack when we got back in the car, a date and cashew bar. Somehow it just wasn't the same.
He dropped me back at my car in Tucson, and I went to Sprouts for some quick grocery shopping on my way home. They sell bulk candies and chocolates at Sprouts. They have baked goods. They have bread. I was so painfully tempted, so I ate a banana on my way home.
I found a reserve of motivation tonight to stay strong and resist the sugar dragon. After I fed Taz and the cats and made my taco meat and put together a salad for dinner, I went to change into some comfortable pants. "Yes. Finally! It's Friday, my day is over, my dinner is almost ready, and I'm fixing to relax."
It's starting to get pretty hot here now, so I just recently got out my capris and shorts from storage. I grabbed a pair of capris to put on ,and they were a little tighter than last summer. Let me be clear. Last summer they were a tad baggy, and now my comfortable, fat girl, baggy capri pants were a little snug. Snug as in not baggy as in "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Proof that I gained weight this winter!" Like I needed more proof of that.
Being plump/fat/fluffy/chubby/chunky is a constant struggle of fitting into things and into places and spaces. It's a constant awareness of things being big enough for you or you being too big for them and a fear that you won't fit because you've exceeded the norms of whatever size is deemed acceptable. Not fitting is less common for me than the pervasive fear of not fitting, but the fear of not fitting exists all the time in hundreds of situations. The fear is like a constant hum in the background waiting to rear its ugly head when you are confronted with some situation.
I went on a work tour recently with 15 or more people that I was overseeing, and the place we were touring gave out these paper coveralls that everyone had to wear. "Oh, you give out coveralls now? You didn't do that when I was here last year" (or I would never have some back because WHAT IF I DON"T FIT!!!!!???????) Thank goodness I fit into the big boy size. Imagine being with a group and not fitting. There's no hiding from that.
Airplane seats and seat belts. I have a nightmare about not fitting into the seat belt. I was on a plane once, and it was close. I had to squeeze a bit. I almost had to ask for the extender, and something in my mind would break if I had to ask for the extender. There is nothing wrong with needing the extender, but there's some line in my mind that I don't want to cross over. I have a dear friend who told me about one flight she had to ask for one, and she cried. I understood why, even though I think she's beautiful and shouldn't give a shit about needing an extender. I exist in such a double standard. Things are acceptable and fine for friends, but I condemn myself for the same thing.
Roller-coasters. I haven't been to a theme park in years. I just haven't had the opportunity or desire, but I've read horror stories of people being too fat to fit in a ride. The thought of going makes me nervous, dreading a possibility that I wouldn't fit. I remember being younger (and significantly smaller than I am now), and I still got nervous on a ride when the operator went to lock in the safety bar. Would it close, or was I too heavy?
High school tennis team. I loved playing tennis. I still do, but I also hated dealing with uniforms for our matches. I remember being so nervous when it came time to give our sizes to get uniforms. Would the largest sizes they offered be big enough for me? When the school ordered uniforms, would they have sweats and tennis skirts that would fit me? Thankfully we found some decent skirts, but the standard issue missy sweats weren't going to cut it.
Dance recitals. I was in a dance class from elementary school into middle school. Each year, at the end of the class, we had a dance recital. The teacher would measure us and order us these fancy costumes for our recital, and I was always worried my costume wouldn't fit or that I would have a different costume because he had to order a bigger kid one instead of a regular one. I hated being measured and the look on his face as he wrote down my measurements. I thought, "Oh no!!! Now he knows I'm chubby!" Because before he measured me he clearly couldn't see I was fat? Really? Do you know how terrible it is to stick out at that age? From the beginning of dance classes until the very end of the year, I worried about the moment when we would have to order those stupid costumes. I wasted all kinds of time dreading that instead of just enjoying class.
There have also been activities I've done on vacations in past years or that I've wanted to do, like hang gliding or zip lining, and there are weight limits on these activities. For whatever crazy reason, I've always been kind of close to the weight limit of different activities like this when I've signed up for them over the years. Then I spend the weeks and days before said activity being insanely crazed about what I eat and my weight because I don't want to show up and be turned away because I'm chubbier than their chub-quotient. I don't enjoy any time up until then because I'm worried about fitting.
How exhausting to have this stupid, pointless anxiety. I don't even begin to touch on clothes and clothes shopping. That's a story for another blog. On that note, I'm going to change out of my "comfortable" capris and into my stretchy pj's. Have a great night everyone. Tomorrow I'm getting a 90 minute massage!
The middle part of my day wasn't the most amazing. I had meetings in Tucson and Phoenix today, which meant I had to pick the lunch place wisely and also pack snacks. I was with a coworker and one of our consultants all day, and the lunch options were a basic American fare brew pub, PF Chang's, or a Japanese steakhouse. Since PF Chang's and Japanese food are all soy covered in soy with a side of soy (which I can't eat during this month), I requested the first option, BJ's Brewpub.
Here's the trick about eating out. People love to put cheese on things. They also love to mix cheese into things. And once they've put tons of cheese on and in things, they like top it with some kind of bread product.
I took me a long time to figure out what to order that had the least modifications and the least likely chance of it being screwed up. "Hamburger, no cheese, no bun. Did I mention no cheese? Great. Beet, arugula salad, no goat cheese. No french fries." Lunch was fine, and I am going to guess that the vinaigrette wasn't totally Whole30 kosher. I'm just impressed I didn't also order the cookie, ice cream sundae.
My main snack was a baggie of pumpkin seeds which helped take the edge off until my coworker decided that on the way back from Phoenix we would stop at Culver's for a bathroom break and an ice cream treat for him. He hesitated for a moment, but I told him I would be fine with it. I can do this!!! I can do this? For those of you that don't know what Culver's is, it is a fast-food chain of crack houses, and the drugs they peddle are homemade custard desserts and burgers cooked in butter. I got a bottle of water. He ordered a chocolate, vanilla turtle sundae with pecans, chocolate sauce, and caramel sauce. It smelled like heaven with a cherry on top. Literally. There was a plastic cup of heaven and a cherry rested right on the top. Right then and there I decided I was eating my emergency snack when we got back in the car, a date and cashew bar. Somehow it just wasn't the same.
He dropped me back at my car in Tucson, and I went to Sprouts for some quick grocery shopping on my way home. They sell bulk candies and chocolates at Sprouts. They have baked goods. They have bread. I was so painfully tempted, so I ate a banana on my way home.
I found a reserve of motivation tonight to stay strong and resist the sugar dragon. After I fed Taz and the cats and made my taco meat and put together a salad for dinner, I went to change into some comfortable pants. "Yes. Finally! It's Friday, my day is over, my dinner is almost ready, and I'm fixing to relax."
It's starting to get pretty hot here now, so I just recently got out my capris and shorts from storage. I grabbed a pair of capris to put on ,and they were a little tighter than last summer. Let me be clear. Last summer they were a tad baggy, and now my comfortable, fat girl, baggy capri pants were a little snug. Snug as in not baggy as in "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Proof that I gained weight this winter!" Like I needed more proof of that.
Being plump/fat/fluffy/chubby/chunky is a constant struggle of fitting into things and into places and spaces. It's a constant awareness of things being big enough for you or you being too big for them and a fear that you won't fit because you've exceeded the norms of whatever size is deemed acceptable. Not fitting is less common for me than the pervasive fear of not fitting, but the fear of not fitting exists all the time in hundreds of situations. The fear is like a constant hum in the background waiting to rear its ugly head when you are confronted with some situation.
I went on a work tour recently with 15 or more people that I was overseeing, and the place we were touring gave out these paper coveralls that everyone had to wear. "Oh, you give out coveralls now? You didn't do that when I was here last year" (or I would never have some back because WHAT IF I DON"T FIT!!!!!???????) Thank goodness I fit into the big boy size. Imagine being with a group and not fitting. There's no hiding from that.
Airplane seats and seat belts. I have a nightmare about not fitting into the seat belt. I was on a plane once, and it was close. I had to squeeze a bit. I almost had to ask for the extender, and something in my mind would break if I had to ask for the extender. There is nothing wrong with needing the extender, but there's some line in my mind that I don't want to cross over. I have a dear friend who told me about one flight she had to ask for one, and she cried. I understood why, even though I think she's beautiful and shouldn't give a shit about needing an extender. I exist in such a double standard. Things are acceptable and fine for friends, but I condemn myself for the same thing.
Roller-coasters. I haven't been to a theme park in years. I just haven't had the opportunity or desire, but I've read horror stories of people being too fat to fit in a ride. The thought of going makes me nervous, dreading a possibility that I wouldn't fit. I remember being younger (and significantly smaller than I am now), and I still got nervous on a ride when the operator went to lock in the safety bar. Would it close, or was I too heavy?
High school tennis team. I loved playing tennis. I still do, but I also hated dealing with uniforms for our matches. I remember being so nervous when it came time to give our sizes to get uniforms. Would the largest sizes they offered be big enough for me? When the school ordered uniforms, would they have sweats and tennis skirts that would fit me? Thankfully we found some decent skirts, but the standard issue missy sweats weren't going to cut it.
Dance recitals. I was in a dance class from elementary school into middle school. Each year, at the end of the class, we had a dance recital. The teacher would measure us and order us these fancy costumes for our recital, and I was always worried my costume wouldn't fit or that I would have a different costume because he had to order a bigger kid one instead of a regular one. I hated being measured and the look on his face as he wrote down my measurements. I thought, "Oh no!!! Now he knows I'm chubby!" Because before he measured me he clearly couldn't see I was fat? Really? Do you know how terrible it is to stick out at that age? From the beginning of dance classes until the very end of the year, I worried about the moment when we would have to order those stupid costumes. I wasted all kinds of time dreading that instead of just enjoying class.
There have also been activities I've done on vacations in past years or that I've wanted to do, like hang gliding or zip lining, and there are weight limits on these activities. For whatever crazy reason, I've always been kind of close to the weight limit of different activities like this when I've signed up for them over the years. Then I spend the weeks and days before said activity being insanely crazed about what I eat and my weight because I don't want to show up and be turned away because I'm chubbier than their chub-quotient. I don't enjoy any time up until then because I'm worried about fitting.
How exhausting to have this stupid, pointless anxiety. I don't even begin to touch on clothes and clothes shopping. That's a story for another blog. On that note, I'm going to change out of my "comfortable" capris and into my stretchy pj's. Have a great night everyone. Tomorrow I'm getting a 90 minute massage!
Thursday, May 4, 2017
Whole30 Day 3 and 4. More Things Wrapped in Lettuce and Fajitas on Top of Fajitas
Sorry I missed day 3. Things were busy, and by the time I finished dinner and clean-up, I was exhausted. I know its' hard to get through the day without hearing that I ate chicken again. sigh... I'll try to be better. It turns out that avoiding all the foods you love and miss is an exhausting full-time job, and I already work, so it's like I have two jobs at the same time now!
Food choices were ok for both days. I think I ate too much yesterday, and by "think" I mean I ate way too much yesterday. We had fajitas at a work meeting, and I might have had two helpings for lunch and a fajita mid-afternoon snack. I also had a bunch of pumpkin seeds and a date bar and more pumpkin seeds. All the foods were compliant with the Whole30. There were just too many foods.
Today I had the last helping of my favorite half-runner green beans and some baked chicken for lunch. Between lunch and dinner, I had a 5:00 pm meeting about some road projects. I ate a snack before I went, but it wasn't enough to stop the "Time for Dinner" train. My body was hungry! My mind was hungry! My soul was hungry! And to top it off, those bastards had a huge variety of delicious-smelling cookies for meeting attendees. How did they know I had been craving sweet, bready yum yums all afternoon? I really wanted a donut or a cinnamon role or a cookie or all of the above, and then I get to this meeting to find the cookies taunting me. "What if I have just one? I'm so hungry. Just one cookie." It was hard to talk myself down. I was talking to a friend after the meeting, and I caught myself staring at his mouth as he ate a cookie with m&m's in it. He's lucky I didn't snatch the cookie out of his hand.
Hungry, tired, and turning into a serious Grumplestiltskin, I headed home and managed to not detour to Panda Express for something easy and full of soy sauce, which is a huge no no. I made my own fajitas tonight and ate them in a lettuce wrap. I'm getting into the lettuce wrap zone. It satisfies the need for something like a burrito. After gorging on fajitas yesterday and making more today, I think I've satisfied the fajita desire for a few weeks.
I did learn one interesting thing yesterday. For dinner (yes, I still ate dinner even though I had 400 helpings of fajitas at work) I sauteed some spinach with chicken. On the spinach I used coconut aminos instead of soy sauce. It turns out I don't like coconut aminos. Gross. It was like eating soy sauce's crack head cousin. Lesson learned. Avoid the crack head cousin.
Now I have one of those annoying eyelid twitches happening. I think it's my body's way of telling me I need to bake a cake. After I bake the cake, I need to eat the whole cake. That's my "Eat a Huge Cake" eye twitch. What's that you say? My eye is twitching because I'm tired and stressed? Oh. So I'm not supposed to bake and eat an entire cake? Are you sure? It would be a carrot cake with walnuts. Still no cake? Really? Crap. I guess I should just brush my teeth and go to bed, but that doesn't mean I don't still want a cake and some donuts with a side of cookies.
Tomorrow I have an early meeting in Tucson and a mid-day meeting in Phoenix that includes a scheduled lunch in between the two. I suggested the place that wasn't PF Changs or the japanese steak house because everything in those places is soy covered soy. I have snacks packed in my bag, and my goal is to order a salad or a burger with no bun and a salad on the side. Wish me luck.
Food choices were ok for both days. I think I ate too much yesterday, and by "think" I mean I ate way too much yesterday. We had fajitas at a work meeting, and I might have had two helpings for lunch and a fajita mid-afternoon snack. I also had a bunch of pumpkin seeds and a date bar and more pumpkin seeds. All the foods were compliant with the Whole30. There were just too many foods.
Today I had the last helping of my favorite half-runner green beans and some baked chicken for lunch. Between lunch and dinner, I had a 5:00 pm meeting about some road projects. I ate a snack before I went, but it wasn't enough to stop the "Time for Dinner" train. My body was hungry! My mind was hungry! My soul was hungry! And to top it off, those bastards had a huge variety of delicious-smelling cookies for meeting attendees. How did they know I had been craving sweet, bready yum yums all afternoon? I really wanted a donut or a cinnamon role or a cookie or all of the above, and then I get to this meeting to find the cookies taunting me. "What if I have just one? I'm so hungry. Just one cookie." It was hard to talk myself down. I was talking to a friend after the meeting, and I caught myself staring at his mouth as he ate a cookie with m&m's in it. He's lucky I didn't snatch the cookie out of his hand.
Hungry, tired, and turning into a serious Grumplestiltskin, I headed home and managed to not detour to Panda Express for something easy and full of soy sauce, which is a huge no no. I made my own fajitas tonight and ate them in a lettuce wrap. I'm getting into the lettuce wrap zone. It satisfies the need for something like a burrito. After gorging on fajitas yesterday and making more today, I think I've satisfied the fajita desire for a few weeks.
I did learn one interesting thing yesterday. For dinner (yes, I still ate dinner even though I had 400 helpings of fajitas at work) I sauteed some spinach with chicken. On the spinach I used coconut aminos instead of soy sauce. It turns out I don't like coconut aminos. Gross. It was like eating soy sauce's crack head cousin. Lesson learned. Avoid the crack head cousin.
Now I have one of those annoying eyelid twitches happening. I think it's my body's way of telling me I need to bake a cake. After I bake the cake, I need to eat the whole cake. That's my "Eat a Huge Cake" eye twitch. What's that you say? My eye is twitching because I'm tired and stressed? Oh. So I'm not supposed to bake and eat an entire cake? Are you sure? It would be a carrot cake with walnuts. Still no cake? Really? Crap. I guess I should just brush my teeth and go to bed, but that doesn't mean I don't still want a cake and some donuts with a side of cookies.
Tomorrow I have an early meeting in Tucson and a mid-day meeting in Phoenix that includes a scheduled lunch in between the two. I suggested the place that wasn't PF Changs or the japanese steak house because everything in those places is soy covered soy. I have snacks packed in my bag, and my goal is to order a salad or a burger with no bun and a salad on the side. Wish me luck.
Tuesday, May 2, 2017
Whole30 Day 2. Invasion of the Swimsuits
Today was a fairly decent Whole30 day. We had a big work meeting with a catered lunch. I had delicious steak, steamed broccoli and cauliflower, guacamole, and salsa. I knew what we were having and could plan accordingly. For dinner I had more of the tuna salad and lettuce wraps. I'm definitely keeping that in the rotation. So, all in all, the world was graced with a successful day in the eating department.
Today I also received a shipment of new swimsuits. A couple of my old suits died, so I was excited for the excuse to splurge on some new ones. It's a fact that I love a swimsuit. After new socks, swimsuits are my favorite purchase. They are comfortable, they remind me of vacation and, most importantly, they remind me of swimming. I tried them on with Taz as my audience. He's great because he's not very judgmental. He's a dog, so he's just concerned about when I'm going to feed him and rub his ears. He doesn't care that my gut sticks out in the bathing suit. He thinks it's stupid that I try them on at all. He's more of a "go for it" kind of guy.
I put the first suit on, and I loved the color. I felt fun and swimmy and ready to hit the beach or the pool or the lake or anything else I could hit with some water and some swimming. Then I looked in the mirror, and my external vision crushed the mental image I had of myself. It's like a huge boulder bounded down my mental mountain and flattened entire villages of joy, happiness, and confidence.
I hate when that happens. I will be walking along, having a perfectly great day. In my head I'm looking cool, I'm feeling great, nothing can stop me as I breeze along like Mary Tyler Moore conquering the big city. "Girl, I look SO adorable. I have reached the nirvana of external representation of my internal coolness. I can't be stopped."
Then, at some point during the day, I'll catch my reflection in a mirror or a window, and that vision I had in my head will die a swift, agonizing death. Gone is the cute, carefree, put-together look. Gone is the confident, happy-go-lucky Allison. She has been replaced by the sad, frumpy, blah, loser Allison. Loser Allison is a real drag. "Seriously? How have all my a-hole friends been letting me walk around like this ALL day? Sheesh. And my hair? Is that really how my hair looks? And where did the fat arm come from? Freaking fat arm! NOOOOO! Why did I even try when there's frump and bad hair and the fat arm?"
After my initial swimsuit disappointment, I forged ahead and tried on the next suit while mentally adjusting my expectations when I looked in the mirror. Does it cover the ta-tas? Great. Does it make my butt look big? Hahahahaha. Kidding. Of COURSE it makes my butt look big. Does it at least look somewhat presentable for public viewing? Yes. Do I like the color? Great color. OK. I'll live with it.
I'm lucky that I love swimming. Well, I love bobbing around in the water and doing handstands and floating around. Being in and near the water is one of my favorite things. That's probably partially because fat floats so well. I'm like a talking buoy. You could drop me in the ocean, and I could help guide ships to harbor.
My love of swimming and water far outweigh my aversion to being seen in public in a bathing suit. For someone so chunky, I sure do wear a swimsuit a lot. Sure, I have moments like I described above, but I try to push ahead. I have lots of moments where I also feel cute and fun and happy in a bathing suit because that means I am near water. So it's not all Loser Allison. Sometimes it's Happy Fun Swim Time Allison.
I've read that swimming is great exercise for all fitness levels. The heavier you are (to a point) the easier swimming is because you are buoyant. The more fit you become, the harder swimming gets because muscle doesn't float like fat. It's brilliant. The difficulty level increases to match your level of fitness. How cool is that? I started swimming laps a couple of years ago to push myself to do something besides bobbing around and practicing the perfect handstand, and I found that I liked swimming laps, too. I was good at it. It was an exercise I could be decent at even though I wasn't the skinniest or most fit person on the planet. An added bonus is you don't sweat while swimming. That's important when you live in a desert. I also like the hot tub I reward myself with after swimming laps. It makes me feel like those Olympic divers that immediately climb out of the pool and into the hot tub to wait on their scores. I'm part of the athletic elite!
Part of my May challenge is to get back into swimming at least three times a week and pushing myself to get in race shape for a swim in the fall. The weirdest thing when I did the Whole30 before was that after about 1 week, I noticed that my speed and endurance increased significantly. It was like a light switch turned on, and VOILA! I was a swimming machine. I'm looking forward to that change again. Look out world. It's swimsuit season.
Today I also received a shipment of new swimsuits. A couple of my old suits died, so I was excited for the excuse to splurge on some new ones. It's a fact that I love a swimsuit. After new socks, swimsuits are my favorite purchase. They are comfortable, they remind me of vacation and, most importantly, they remind me of swimming. I tried them on with Taz as my audience. He's great because he's not very judgmental. He's a dog, so he's just concerned about when I'm going to feed him and rub his ears. He doesn't care that my gut sticks out in the bathing suit. He thinks it's stupid that I try them on at all. He's more of a "go for it" kind of guy.
I put the first suit on, and I loved the color. I felt fun and swimmy and ready to hit the beach or the pool or the lake or anything else I could hit with some water and some swimming. Then I looked in the mirror, and my external vision crushed the mental image I had of myself. It's like a huge boulder bounded down my mental mountain and flattened entire villages of joy, happiness, and confidence.
I hate when that happens. I will be walking along, having a perfectly great day. In my head I'm looking cool, I'm feeling great, nothing can stop me as I breeze along like Mary Tyler Moore conquering the big city. "Girl, I look SO adorable. I have reached the nirvana of external representation of my internal coolness. I can't be stopped."
Then, at some point during the day, I'll catch my reflection in a mirror or a window, and that vision I had in my head will die a swift, agonizing death. Gone is the cute, carefree, put-together look. Gone is the confident, happy-go-lucky Allison. She has been replaced by the sad, frumpy, blah, loser Allison. Loser Allison is a real drag. "Seriously? How have all my a-hole friends been letting me walk around like this ALL day? Sheesh. And my hair? Is that really how my hair looks? And where did the fat arm come from? Freaking fat arm! NOOOOO! Why did I even try when there's frump and bad hair and the fat arm?"
After my initial swimsuit disappointment, I forged ahead and tried on the next suit while mentally adjusting my expectations when I looked in the mirror. Does it cover the ta-tas? Great. Does it make my butt look big? Hahahahaha. Kidding. Of COURSE it makes my butt look big. Does it at least look somewhat presentable for public viewing? Yes. Do I like the color? Great color. OK. I'll live with it.
I'm lucky that I love swimming. Well, I love bobbing around in the water and doing handstands and floating around. Being in and near the water is one of my favorite things. That's probably partially because fat floats so well. I'm like a talking buoy. You could drop me in the ocean, and I could help guide ships to harbor.
My love of swimming and water far outweigh my aversion to being seen in public in a bathing suit. For someone so chunky, I sure do wear a swimsuit a lot. Sure, I have moments like I described above, but I try to push ahead. I have lots of moments where I also feel cute and fun and happy in a bathing suit because that means I am near water. So it's not all Loser Allison. Sometimes it's Happy Fun Swim Time Allison.
I've read that swimming is great exercise for all fitness levels. The heavier you are (to a point) the easier swimming is because you are buoyant. The more fit you become, the harder swimming gets because muscle doesn't float like fat. It's brilliant. The difficulty level increases to match your level of fitness. How cool is that? I started swimming laps a couple of years ago to push myself to do something besides bobbing around and practicing the perfect handstand, and I found that I liked swimming laps, too. I was good at it. It was an exercise I could be decent at even though I wasn't the skinniest or most fit person on the planet. An added bonus is you don't sweat while swimming. That's important when you live in a desert. I also like the hot tub I reward myself with after swimming laps. It makes me feel like those Olympic divers that immediately climb out of the pool and into the hot tub to wait on their scores. I'm part of the athletic elite!
Part of my May challenge is to get back into swimming at least three times a week and pushing myself to get in race shape for a swim in the fall. The weirdest thing when I did the Whole30 before was that after about 1 week, I noticed that my speed and endurance increased significantly. It was like a light switch turned on, and VOILA! I was a swimming machine. I'm looking forward to that change again. Look out world. It's swimsuit season.
Monday, May 1, 2017
Whole Lotta Whole30
I have been battling with the scale for the last several months. Well, that's not exactly true. I've been battling with the scale since September 28, 1975, also known as the day I was born. I'm only slightly exaggerating. I remember being a little, little kid (in age, not size evidently) and my brothers teasing me that I had a double chin. "What's a double chin? Oh, it's my chin?" Devastation. It was my first memory of ever being aware that I was chubby. Was I 6? Maybe 7? Whatever age I was, it was the point in life where I started thinking I was different.
Getting back to the point, it seems that I've been struggling even more lately. I have lost the same 5 pound at least 10 times. Hooray! I've lost 50 pounds! Oh wait...I still weigh the same. BUMMER. I also have a gut. You heard me. I have a G.U.T. Who the heck has a gut besides old men who still insist on wearing size 32 pants when clearly that tool shed needs a size 40+? A few years ago, I was at my lowest weight as an adult. I was wearing a size 16 jean, and I was feeling pretty darn good. Needless to say, I'm not wearing a size 16 anymore. That ship sailed, and my pants are big enough to catch the wind and propel us into the horizon. Sonofabitch.
My best friend from high school and perhaps the one person who understands the struggle with weight loss and the fattyboombalatte syndrome has been doing really great in the weight loss department lately. We were talking the other week, and we talked about our current weights. Hers was significantly lower than her all-time highest (and significantly lower than mine), which made me super happy for her. When I mentioned my latest weigh in, she was nice enough to say, "Well, you are a few inches taller than me..." Sigh.
Here's the messed up thing, though. At the same time that I was happy for her, it also made me feel really crummy. We have always been around the same size, or at least in the same neighborhood. Sometimes I weighed less, sometimes she did, but even in this leapfrog dance we did, we were always close. Now I felt like I was being left behind. I secretly wanted to sneak into her house and replace all her food with Dingdongs and Ho Ho's and all the other Dirty Debbies I could find so she could stay fat like me. "Get back here you skinny hussie! If I weren't so fat, I would chase you down and drag you back to Fat Village with me, and we will be fattyboombalattes together." See. I told you it was messed up. I'm not proud. Sorry, buddy. I would never really stock your house with snack cakes and bricks of lard. I promise.
We used to do this really crazy thing where we would see a fat person on television or in real life, and one of us would say, "Am I as fat as her?"
"No! No way! You're way skinnier than that person. Don't even think you're in the same neighborhood as that person."
"Phew..Thank goodness."
Comparing yourself to someone else to see how you measure up doesn't really do much, realistically. It's all about how chubby you feel in your mind, and in my mind, I feel like the chubbiest person you know. Secretly wanting to keep your friends fat so you aren't fat alone also doesn't help. So, I'm starting the Whole30 again today. I feel better when I follow the Whole30. I'm more active. My mood is better. I plan my meals and stick to the plan better than when I'm doing the "Whatever, I'll figure out something to eat today" plan. When I do the "Whatever" plan, I usually end up eating a really healthy breakfast and then 5 million donuts throughout the day and some sauteed kale for dinner. And I wonder why I lose the same 5 pounds over and over again.....
So, today is Day 1 of the Whole30. For dinner I had tuna salad lettuce wraps, some sauteed cauliflower, and a couple of olives. I am also cooking a whole chicken to have a protein for meals for a few days this week. Here we go. And if you wake up to find a thousand snack cakes stashed around your kitchen, I swear it wasn't me trying to sabotage your diet and make you fat too.
Getting back to the point, it seems that I've been struggling even more lately. I have lost the same 5 pound at least 10 times. Hooray! I've lost 50 pounds! Oh wait...I still weigh the same. BUMMER. I also have a gut. You heard me. I have a G.U.T. Who the heck has a gut besides old men who still insist on wearing size 32 pants when clearly that tool shed needs a size 40+? A few years ago, I was at my lowest weight as an adult. I was wearing a size 16 jean, and I was feeling pretty darn good. Needless to say, I'm not wearing a size 16 anymore. That ship sailed, and my pants are big enough to catch the wind and propel us into the horizon. Sonofabitch.
My best friend from high school and perhaps the one person who understands the struggle with weight loss and the fattyboombalatte syndrome has been doing really great in the weight loss department lately. We were talking the other week, and we talked about our current weights. Hers was significantly lower than her all-time highest (and significantly lower than mine), which made me super happy for her. When I mentioned my latest weigh in, she was nice enough to say, "Well, you are a few inches taller than me..." Sigh.
Here's the messed up thing, though. At the same time that I was happy for her, it also made me feel really crummy. We have always been around the same size, or at least in the same neighborhood. Sometimes I weighed less, sometimes she did, but even in this leapfrog dance we did, we were always close. Now I felt like I was being left behind. I secretly wanted to sneak into her house and replace all her food with Dingdongs and Ho Ho's and all the other Dirty Debbies I could find so she could stay fat like me. "Get back here you skinny hussie! If I weren't so fat, I would chase you down and drag you back to Fat Village with me, and we will be fattyboombalattes together." See. I told you it was messed up. I'm not proud. Sorry, buddy. I would never really stock your house with snack cakes and bricks of lard. I promise.
We used to do this really crazy thing where we would see a fat person on television or in real life, and one of us would say, "Am I as fat as her?"
"No! No way! You're way skinnier than that person. Don't even think you're in the same neighborhood as that person."
"Phew..Thank goodness."
Comparing yourself to someone else to see how you measure up doesn't really do much, realistically. It's all about how chubby you feel in your mind, and in my mind, I feel like the chubbiest person you know. Secretly wanting to keep your friends fat so you aren't fat alone also doesn't help. So, I'm starting the Whole30 again today. I feel better when I follow the Whole30. I'm more active. My mood is better. I plan my meals and stick to the plan better than when I'm doing the "Whatever, I'll figure out something to eat today" plan. When I do the "Whatever" plan, I usually end up eating a really healthy breakfast and then 5 million donuts throughout the day and some sauteed kale for dinner. And I wonder why I lose the same 5 pounds over and over again.....
So, today is Day 1 of the Whole30. For dinner I had tuna salad lettuce wraps, some sauteed cauliflower, and a couple of olives. I am also cooking a whole chicken to have a protein for meals for a few days this week. Here we go. And if you wake up to find a thousand snack cakes stashed around your kitchen, I swear it wasn't me trying to sabotage your diet and make you fat too.
Friday, December 30, 2016
Dumpsters Are a Girl's Best Friend
The person that said "diamonds are a girl's best friend" was smoking crack. Diamonds are over-hyped, overpriced stones that don't do anything but sit on your finger or your ear or your neck. Nope. You can keep your diamonds. (unless it's one of those huge diamonds that I'm going to find at the dig-your-own diamond park in Arkansas, a diamond that's so rare and beautiful that I'll be rich for the rest of my days.)
Dumpsters, on the other hand, are the unsung heroes of the modern world. Dumpsters do so much.
1. Dumpsters give you hope when the darkness of packing and home repair projects seems never-ending.
2. Dumpsters are a convenient place to throw away cumbersome items like a gas stove/pack rat den of iniquity that has been sitting in your garage since the day you moved into the house you never should have purchased because who the hell wants to own a house anyway...clearly not me. Thanks.
3. Dumpsters give you the freedom to say goodbye to those ill-fitting, spider-encrusted rubber shoes that have been sitting on your front porch for three years because you put them on once, they made your feet sweat, and they were too tight on your fat calf because come on...who buys rubber shoes at Nordstrum rack besides skinny models who use them in photo shoots of playfully stomping through puddles in the rain with their perfect dogs and their rugged yet sensitive model boyfriends?
4. Dumpsters accept your dry-rotted garden hoses with no judgment about how many times you stepped over that hose and didn't stop to pick it up, turn on the faucet, and water the plants in your yard that were left to shrivel up and die in the Arizona sun. No...a dumpster doesn't whisper "Plant killer" as you throw that hose away. The dumpster understands.
5. Dumpsters are a vital component of my anger management program. When I'm feeling angry, I manage it by spending an hour throwing things into the dumpster. Broken glass? Dumpster doesn't mind. Broken dreams? Throw them to the understanding dumpster.
6. Who are we fooling? I could go on and on and on into infinity. Dumpsters are my spirit animal in 2016. They helped me find the way!!!!!!!
Are you rushing out to rent your own little slice of heaven yet? If so, I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.
I have about 2 more weeks of work at my house, and then that baby is going on the market. She's going to be beautiful. New paint job inside and out, a total face life inside and out, new flooring, trees trimmed and cut back, and a sparkling, cleaned out garage....something the former owners didn't see fit to leave me. Yes, I still curse them on a regular basis, but I enjoyed throwing away all the stuff they left in my garage. Anger management.
Dumpsters, on the other hand, are the unsung heroes of the modern world. Dumpsters do so much.
1. Dumpsters give you hope when the darkness of packing and home repair projects seems never-ending.
2. Dumpsters are a convenient place to throw away cumbersome items like a gas stove/pack rat den of iniquity that has been sitting in your garage since the day you moved into the house you never should have purchased because who the hell wants to own a house anyway...clearly not me. Thanks.
3. Dumpsters give you the freedom to say goodbye to those ill-fitting, spider-encrusted rubber shoes that have been sitting on your front porch for three years because you put them on once, they made your feet sweat, and they were too tight on your fat calf because come on...who buys rubber shoes at Nordstrum rack besides skinny models who use them in photo shoots of playfully stomping through puddles in the rain with their perfect dogs and their rugged yet sensitive model boyfriends?
4. Dumpsters accept your dry-rotted garden hoses with no judgment about how many times you stepped over that hose and didn't stop to pick it up, turn on the faucet, and water the plants in your yard that were left to shrivel up and die in the Arizona sun. No...a dumpster doesn't whisper "Plant killer" as you throw that hose away. The dumpster understands.
5. Dumpsters are a vital component of my anger management program. When I'm feeling angry, I manage it by spending an hour throwing things into the dumpster. Broken glass? Dumpster doesn't mind. Broken dreams? Throw them to the understanding dumpster.
6. Who are we fooling? I could go on and on and on into infinity. Dumpsters are my spirit animal in 2016. They helped me find the way!!!!!!!
Are you rushing out to rent your own little slice of heaven yet? If so, I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.
I have about 2 more weeks of work at my house, and then that baby is going on the market. She's going to be beautiful. New paint job inside and out, a total face life inside and out, new flooring, trees trimmed and cut back, and a sparkling, cleaned out garage....something the former owners didn't see fit to leave me. Yes, I still curse them on a regular basis, but I enjoyed throwing away all the stuff they left in my garage. Anger management.
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