Hiding in black. Hopefully some gardening and yard work will help me in my never-ending battle. Here, Mick and I work to Zeus-proof the garden.
This morning I did something stupid. Once again. I worked out for an hour, vigorously, and then when Mick was spraying the sunless tanning spray on my back ("Hey", I told him,"it's slimming) and he said, "It feels like a Busick morning to me." I replied, "Well, don't eat anything yet."
Why he seemed surprised when I eventually emerged from the bathroom, all dressed and made up with a very particular place to go, I don't know. Have I ever turned down food? I don't think so.
The Busick is our favorite breakfast place over in Salem. The food and the service is wonderful and it takes a much stronger person than me to turn it down. Mick has turned it down before, but I never have. He said to me, "Well, if I'd known we were going, I'd had my shoes on and the car started."
"Yeah, I know. The only way I get to be ready first is to not tell you that yes, we are going." Mick's idea of getting ready: shoes and socks, car keys. My idea of getting ready: sunless tanning spray, followed by sunscreen, moisturizer, foundation, blush, three shades of eyeshadow, liner, mascara, eyebrow pencil, style hair, debate and decide over clothes, including which shoes or sandals to wear today (sandals, yay! and by the way, does my toe nail polish match or coordinate with my shirt?), sweater, purse, and last, but certainly not least, my book. Did he really think it necessary to start the car and burn gas while waiting for me?
So here is the confession: I know better. At the time I made the decision to go, I knew better and we went anyway. I always wait for Mick to be the strong one and he sometimes is, and I know I need to change that. He deserves to have me be the strong one when he isn't and not put the pressure on him.
Diets DO work. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. People not following diets is the problem. And exercise alone is not enough. Exercise for weight loss only works for people with fairly good metabolisms who have just become a little sluggish and soft, not for people who are actually fat with food addictions. I speak from years of experience. I speak from years of being a variety of weights. I have the wardrobes to prove it. If I can get my weight to somewhere in the neighborhood of where I'd like to be, I have a whole wardrobe that was in style, went very out of style, and is back in style again. Hopefully the fabric hasn't rotted as my beautiful clothes waited all these years to be worn once again.
I exercise faithfully, albeit, reluctantly and sometimes resentfully, about five days a week. That is down from my dedicated six days a week with one day of rest. We exercise hard, too. For awhile Mick and I were running in the mornings. This was right before Dallas got snow. I used that snow for an excuse and told Mick that I just wouldn't do that anymore. Not at this weight anyway. I felt like I was dying and it just got worse as the day went on. But I didn't try to weenie out of exercise altogether.
Use it or lose it! We know too many people who can barely walk. Some of them aren't even fat, but they exercise so little that they have no stamina or flexibility. They've made themselves old before their times. That is so not going to happen to us.
People are polarized over obesity in America. Mixed messages. On the one hand we hear so much about how unhealthy obesity is ( and I'm not arguing that ), but we also hear on talk shows that we should learn to love and accept our bodies as they are. While I don't think fat people should be treated badly, being one myself, I have no intention of just accepting my body as it is.
I'll tell you why. Fat doesn't feel good. I ache. I hurt. And I'm not talking about some kind of psychological pain, though I'm sure Dr. Phil and his kind probably would insist that I am. I physically hurt and I'm sick of it. The pain migrates, too. Remember the old Peanuts comic strip where Snoopy would be out jogging and his feet would be talking and complaining? That's me. Sometimes it's my feet (no doubt! Poor things are messed up anyway and having to support all this weight!), it's always my back--that pain just doesn't seem to ever go completely away, my hips ache, and currently I'm complaining most about my shoulders. My shoulders hurt because of all the Jillian Michaels' DVDs I was doing and I tweaked something and then just kept on going, never allowing my shoulder to heal, being in denial about how bad the pain is.
I don't know if anyone wants to listen to one more person whine about being fat. I don't. I'm sick of listening to myself because after awhile someone needs to say, "Then DO something about it!". Mick will never be that person because he loves me regardless of what I weigh. As I do him. This really only works when we scream it at ourselves. When we decide to be strong for ourselves and hope that our good example inspires or encourages our loved ones.
Big sigh...love of food, love of flavor is the problem. I don't care how many people say that fat people are eating for emotional reasons, childhood hurts and traumas. Be that as it may, I just think it tastes good and I always want more. That is my problem and that is what I need to get a handle on.
I have any number of diets to choose from. I've been temporarily successful on several. The question is: What is going to make me stick to one? What will make me commit to a healthy life-style? Writing this may help. Accountability. Also, I have a couple of self-hypnosis programs. I have them. Now I actually need to use them. It's like the people who buy exercise equipment and then hang their coats on it. Or let it collect dust. People who buy exercise DVDs and then sit on the couch and watch them. My self-hypnosis DVDs have been collecting dust. Well, I've got to try it. It certainly isn't going to hurt.
Don't worry. Chicken and Sponge isn't going to turn into "Bridget Jones' Diary". I'm not going to whine every day about my weight, write down what I ate, and record the same two pounds lost, gained, lost, and gained again. I may never mention this embarrassing episode again. Hopefully, in the future, I will post a photo and progress will be apparent. In the meantime, I will try to keep another embarrassing memory in mind to inspire me.
Today would have been my grandmother's 102nd birthday. I guess while I was thinking of her this memory came to mind. Grandma was never a socially sensitive soul, never known for her tact. Grandma was blunt and my mom would be the first to say that Grandma could be really embarrassing. Here's what happened:
Mom, my sister Pam, Grandma and I went to the Southgate Mall in Missoula, Montana. Grandma, being elderly and frail, needed help getting out of the car and walking across the parking lot. Being a grandma's-girl, I was holding my grandmother's arm when a family from another car started walking across the parking lot right in front of us.
"Well, would you look at that!" my grandmother said loudly, sounding positively scandalized. "Vicki, just look at that great big fat woman wearing white slacks! My God, I've never seen such a thing!"
"Grandma. Shut up. Now."
I do not want to be that poor woman in the white slacks. Never, never, never. God bless you, Grandma.
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