Not bad for a first day.

Portions: controlled.

Calories: very acceptable.

Exercise: also went walking and jogging for about 20 minutes.

Not much, but it's a start.

Feelin' Groovy

This morning just feels different. But then, lots of mornings feel different, and I'm diving head first into the chocolate before lunchtime.

I haven't exercised for a while. Why? I don't know; I had shoulder injuries that made strength training difficult. And I kept trying to change up my strength training and ended up hating it (I like cardio better anyway), but since I'm still intellectually convinced that strength training is way more effective than cardio with respect to changing a body, and since the roads are snow-covered outside...

I haven't exercised in a while. But last week I began to change. I did great cardio three mornings. And this morning I woke up bright and early and did a quite good upper body strength workout that has me still, and hour later, very shaky in the shoulders and arms. (Shaky in a good way.) Good portion control at breakfast. Crossing my fingers that this is the beginning of something, because even my big pants are tight now after the indulgent holiday season I had.

Haven't weighed in months, and I have no intention to. But I do want to exercise, and eat less. Let's see where this goes.

Well, after all this time....

...and all these holidays, I'm almost motivated to do something about where I am. This post is sort of like an AA meeting: "Hi, my name is Alyson, and I'm thinking about trying to lose weight again." Despite how OK I had been with my weight and how I look, I find I am not looking forward to going to the family after-Christmas party tonight. I don't feel as okay today as I did last month. It's probably because of all the really great sweets I've eaten these last few days, or weeks. I feel like I'm not my best.

One, two, three...

I'm on my second day of counting calories. I'm not going to weigh myself, because (1) I still don't care what I weigh, and (2) it always psyches me out (if I don't lose weight after counting calories, I eat more the next week and undo all the good work).

I don't want to obsess over what I eat; but neither do I want to feel out of control, like I'm eating the whole world every time I sit down to the table. Was feeling just a little powerless, and this is my way to get the power back.

Am a little hungry (because I left at least half the world unconsumed at lunchtime). But just a little. Retraining the body, retraining the mind.

Lookee! There's an entire world beyond the end of my nose.

Do you ever get tired of obsessing? Of fixating? Of having something be more important than almost everything else, all out of proportion.

I am.

I have no idea what I weigh. Haven't weighed myself in months.

And miracle of miracles, I like how I look, even though I'm guessing I'm 20 pounds more than my best weight (where I wasn't quite satisfied with how I looked). I accept the truth of me.

I got tired of thinking of how much I weigh.
I got tired of fixating on a number. "I could be happy, if only..."
I got tired of feeling guilt about eating.
I got tired of feeing out of control.
I got tired of looking at the clock and the portions and trying to fit everything together like a puzzle instead of a meal.

Food is fuel. No more, no less.

I'm lovin' it.

I know it makes for a boring blog, to say, "I'm still in the same place. I don't care if I lose a pound." But it feels great. And it's huge, really huge—for me to be larger than what I've always considered "ideal" and to be contented here...it's very freeing. And very healthy, I think.

Last week I spent an hour or so on the SparkPeople website reading blog entry after blog entry. These were written by fitness professionals who compared their post-pregnancy bellies to "rising bread dough" (boy, do I identify with that one!) and who, despite being a very good weight for their height, have cellulite that makes them not wear swimsuits in public. Entry after entry convinced me (again) that the current view of the female body is so unhealthy. We look at the stars on the magazine covers fully knowing that they are photoshopped, they have personal chefs, they have personal trainers, and they can literally devote their lives to having those bodies (which still need to be touched up when photographed) and while our brains say, "Not real!" our emotions say, "I want to look like that!" We set up a mental ideal that is impossible to achieve, but think that if we just exercise enough or cut out enough food we'll get there.

And then when we see the stars in their natural form—in swimsuits on vacation or whatever—and see that they really do have lumps, cellulite, and imperfections, the magazines mock them and rip them to shreds. This can only cement our notion that perfection is somehow (a) achievable by all, and (b) keep-up-able 100% of the time, can't it? We expect the stars to do it, we should be able to do it too.

(Here's a link to get you started, if you want to immerse yourself in these wonderful posts: http://www.dailyspark.com/blog.asp?post=i_profess_that_i_love_to_confess)

Do we even remember what a real body looks like? There are websites full of pictures. If you've searched out and seen the real tummies and real thighs, tell the truth: were you grossed out by the dimples? Or did you feel camaraderie? Did you think, "Maybe I'm more okay this way than I thought I was?"

So what's new since I took a flying leap off the wagon?

1. I'm not weighing myself at all. I have long known what a mind job that weight on the scale is. If I've been working hard all week and it hasn't budged, I get depressed and start inhaling the doughnuts while saying, "Evidently eating less doesn't help! No matter how hard I try nothing makes a difference!" If I've lost weight that's encouragement in itself; if I haven't lost, it just bums me out and makes me overindulge. I may weigh once a month now, or something. But daily and weekly weighing is right out. I just don't need to drag myself into that game.
   
   
2. I'm keeping a paper food diary of what I eat. Not counting calories, not trying to meet any minimums or maximums, just tracking. Tracking has always worked for me. It helps me, somehow, to control my intake. If I don't want to write down that third cookie, I don't eat it. Tracking keeps me honest.
   
   
3. I'm eating less, genuinely. I guess I had turned into a mass of emotions and needs and I was trying to tame everything by eating it. Letting go of weight expectations, letting go of the emotion of what's on the scale, has enabled me to let go of trying to comfort myself with this or punish myself with skipping that. I don't have to overfeed, I don't have to overcompensate. I'm a lot closer to that zen relationship with food—that it is merely fuel for my engine, it is not best friend or social companion or crutch or comforter.
   
   
4. I'm eating less sugar. It goes hand in hand with #3, but it's still notable.

Those are all really positive changes. I'm so at peace with my body. Grateful to it, even, for being so healthy. My body has never stopped me from doing anything I wanted to. How great is that?

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