Keep on Running

One year ago last August my sisters and I were part of a relay team in the "Portland to Coast" relay walk itis a 24 hour relay walk divided up into 4-7 mile segments, each of us completing 2 segments, about 12 hours apart. This walk is a lifestyle for some, and there are cultural rituals I was unaware of. Passing someone on the road is called a "roadkill". Follower vans have the numbers of kills made by the teams written on the windows. People dress up crazy, cars honk and wave cheering their teammates on. We slept in an open field under the stars with hundreds of others, sharing a long line of port-a-potties. It was insane and wonderful. I loved all of it, and was caught up in the competition. The first round I was roadkill to no one and I was determined to keep it that way.

My second shift I was assigned to walk in the middle of the night on a dark windy country road. I decked out in gear from head lights to reflective tape to avoid becomming literal road kill.

I passed walkers one by one, smug in my killings. 3 miles in, I was alone on the dark road, or so I thought. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a light right on my tail. I cranked up my ipod and walked faster than I thought possible. She stayed right on me, I didn't want to turn around and give in, so I upped my pace. The light behind me increased its pace as well. She was relentless. Finally when I thought I could go no faster and was about to consent to defeat, I turned around. I was alone on the trail. My brother in law had put a light on the back of my hat I was unaware of. I was chasing myself.

So, I am an idiot who learned literally that my main goal is not to surpass others, but to surpass myself.

This morning on my run I was thinking about that lesson. A few mornings ago I had just completed my run ending on my killer hill and sat on my front step trying to keep from coughing up the lung I had just dislodged. Just then, the girl who 21 years ago stole my high school boyfriend jogged past me, up the hill while talking casually to her companions. She was beautiful, thin, and well dressed in a complete matching Nike outfit. I lowered my sweaty head so I would not be recognized.

In the past just such an experience would drive me to discouragement and ice cream, consoling myself with the thought of her probably having an unhappy marriage and bratty children. Now, I am coming to a new awareness and confidence.

5 kids have not been kind to my stretchy stomach and marked up thighs but I have legitimate laugh lines, I have all that I need, and I am becoming content in the fact that I am only in a race against myself, and that though I am capable of doing better and pushing harder "The race goes not to the swiftest but he who keeps on running" (unknown)

I will keep on running. I will not look back to see what the competition is doing because that leads to either despair at my loss, or a false victory where others fail so I can win. There will always be someone smarter, faster, thinner, and better dressed. I can't worry about it, they are not my competition, I am. I will look only forward to obtain my goals and hope to bring as many with me as I can.

Damage Control

Thanksgiving morning I awoke, went for my run, cleaned my home, made rolls, broccoli salad, and Jello. Getting ready for my shower, I stepped on the scale, showered and basked in the glow of being exactly 135 on the scale. I was cocky I think.

Thanksgiving Armageddon, the day after. 137.5. two and a half pounds gained in one day. Holy smoke. My lovely sister Carrot Jello did a thanksgiving to make Martha blush. Everything was so good, and we kept being plied with treats, who can resist toffee peanuts? Not only that, I couldn't stop eating pumpkin pie because "The Biggest Looser" said it had the least calories compared to other pies. I ate enough to make the other pies seem healthy.

Reeling I laid on my bed, not at the fact I was 137.5, I have seen that number many times before. Just that I hopped up there so quickly. Lost in a sea of guilt, pity and grief I wailed a confession to my husband. "It's over, next thing you know I will hit 200. I hope you enjoyed me while you could, time to buy the fat wardrobe again."

It was then he pulled out the graph. I have talked about it before. My engineer oriented husband (they think differently than most.) Had graphed out my weight loss, showing a consistent loss even though the descent jumped up, down and plateaued at times. He rested his case, and I relaxed.

The point is, I come short of perfection. I am helpless left alone both in dieting and life. On my own I am nothing but a human garbage disposal. I love to eat and it shows. When I team up with the Lord, and get back on the trail he leads me on I am safe. I strayed, I let go of the iron rod, but just like the prodigal son I am welcomed back.

"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest, Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." (Matt 11:28)

"Work Hard - Eat Fat"

Last week I had a minor nervous breakdown, nothing serious, just a mom thing, so I didn't post much. Sorry. I am also going to have this post be my last until next Monday morning. I am sure you are all just as busy and won't even miss me.

Saturday, a very thin mom in my ward said that her grandma taught her "Work Hard, Eat Fat". Jennifer If you are listening thank you for putting my whole philosophy into four words.

Every morning when the alarm goes off I cannot see myself exercising. I don't have better words to put it, but the action seems impossible. I have mentioned time and time again how I have to get dressed in a trance like state in complete denial that I am about to go out in to the cold dark morning and make myself sweat. I just love to eat. That is what gets me out.

I love eating through the holidays. Bringing back memories through taste is probably not the healthiest way, but it is wonderful during December. If I am consistent in exercising, the damage I do eating down memory lane is repairable.

If I exercise more and try to eat a bit better my holiday skirt will not cut off circulation to my toes. Some recipes I can make a bit healthier, I can give away more of, or I can try sabotage. Sabotage for me is easy, I hate walnuts, they make my mouth itch, so I through a handful in tempting food. Of course I do this only where appropriate i.e. if I make fudge I try to make it with walnuts. I will eat it anyway, but the act of sucking the fudge off the walnuts takes a bit longer and makes me a bit more thoughtful.

Good luck this Thanksgiving, enjoy it, I hope it is wonderful for each of you, just don't forget to get a workout in first thing Thursday morning. I know you hate to get up on a holiday, but I know you are the same people who will get up early Friday and subject yourself to hell in the form of a six a.m. sale at Wall Mart. It is possible, I don't want to hear any excuses. Get your priorities right. "Work Hard - Eat Fat" is better than "Sleep in - Eat Celery"

Atomic Bouffant

I have thick hair. It is a simple fact that thick hair permed grows up and out. When perms were in their heyday I was seen every three months at the salon. More than one stylist tried talking me out of a perm, but I wanted those spiral ringlets that were so popular. I wanted to look like Elizabeth Shue on "Karate Kid" Each stylist had a different way to try to control my mane, each stylist had ways of telling me the truth that I would not listen to. "Maybe we should layer it so we don't have such a full triangle" "Lets thin this mess out" or "What about short hair?" "Careful or you could be mistaken for Rosanne-rosanna-danna" I would not listen, I could not be stopped.

One of my boyfriends saw me right after a perm and called my hair style the "atomic bouffant" Each time we would go out he would comment on the size of my hair that day. I took it as a compliment and blushed.

Then reality hit. I went to Carrots wedding feeling beautiful with my frizzy mane. Pictures were taken, It was a glorious day. It wasn't until I saw the pictures that reality hit me. Ugly orange frizzy hair that obstructed peoples view covered my head. There must have been a mistake, I didn't really look like that did I? I had a White woman's fro. And I had been doing this for YEARS!!! It was my next to last perm. (I had a weak moment while pregnant once, it looked just as bad)

My hair still gets big. The picture above was taken at my daughters baptism in May. Once again I thought that my hair looked good, the picture told me otherwise, it was huge. I have now made a pact with my husband, He has to tell me in a nice way if my hair has grown to large. He has agreed to do so.

How does my big hair relate to a big bum? I was watching reruns of "The Biggest Loser season one". Each person was faced with life size cutouts of what they had looked like when they came to the ranch. The contestants said things like: "I thought I looked good" "I never thought I was that fat" "I can't believe I got that big" Those are the exact thoughts that I had. The whole time I was getting fat I would just look in smaller and smaller mirrors. I did my hair and make up beautifully and dressed nicely, I thought that even though the scale said 205, I was the genetic abnormality that had heavy bones, No way did I look that fat.

Remember when Elizabeth Taylor lost all of her weight in the early nineties? I saw her interview and she said she stood completely naked in front of a three way mirror and that was enough to turn her to healthy eating. I did just that and it was amazing. My eyes were opened, rolls of fat everywhere? No way, where did it come from? How did my bum get so large? It is a sad fact but we see what we want to see.

The Book of Mormon is full of stories of people turning a blind eye to reality. "...Satan had full power over the hearts of the people; for they were given up unto...the blindness of their minds.." (Ether 15:19) Heavenly Father constantly shows us our weakness so that we can address them and become strong in the becoming. Gaining weight is just that, a weakness and can truly lead to a spiritual journey.

I have heard the term "A healthy dose of reality" As long as reality does not lead you to despair but to hope and excitement and leads you to see the new path you are going to walk it can be a really useful tool. Be happy, be humble, be hopeful, and excited. Who doesn't love a improvement project? "I may be fat but I have a plan... wait till you see me in three months!"

Bran Muffins and a link

Fridays I try to post a healthy recipe. My sister-in-law has a wonderful recipe for bran muffins (I fixed the link). I hope you like them.

Marc is my brother and Megan is his wife. They are a wonderful couple who are hoping to adopt. I beg anyone who knows of a potential birth mother to check out their blog and see just how great they are. I admire the two of them so much, both are spiritual, artistic, successful, kind, generous, loving and would be the best parents in the world. (I am just about to ask them to adopt me!)

Have a great weekend and include Marc and Megan in your prayers!

(The first link is to their blog, the second to their website)

An idea

I keep hearing of bacteria that mutate and make themselves immune to antibiotics that had formerly been successful. My fat does that too. I can just get eating figured out then I mutate and I find a whole different way to justify eating the entire content of my pantry and freezer.

So, I keep a notebook. I am not a scrapbooker which drives me crazy, I am ok with journaling, but my fatty notebook is great. I buy any magazine that has women who have lost 1/2 their sizeon the cover. I love to get new ideas. Once gal, Alicia Forde said this:

"When I sit down to a meal I eat my favorite things first - for me, saving the best for last just makes me crave more. I also avoid snacking because I have trouble stopping once I get started."

She lost 152 lbs in 17 months. I think its a great idea.

Another idea comes from Shelley Napier who lost 120 lbs:"

I'm a real planner. I carry around protein bars, because if I don't, my hunger takes over and I end up in line at a bakery. When I'm cooking, I splash Tabasco sauce on everything - the spicy kick makes me eat slower, so I don't consume as much."

I like my fat book, when times get tough, and I don't have any more tricks up my sleeve I look to others who have succeeded and let their ideas pull me along. It only takes one change a day to lose weight and create a healthy life. We don't have to figure it out by ourselves, others can do it for us (the figuring anyway).

Father Knows Best

My mom left her scriptures at my house on Sunday. The ones she uses are my fathers. I was browsing through them looking at the passages he highlighted and commented on. Inside the book of Job I found a folded up scrap of paper that said this:

"When and if you get a priesthood blessing to be free from excess fat and its potential ill effects - listen and feel for the promptings that will come from Heavenly Father as a result. They will be inspired promptings - not promptings to follow the incorrect precepts of man."

After suffering from arthritis, shortness of breath and having to walk with a cane, My dad in his fifties decided to get healthy. He exercised, changed his diet and lost a lot of weight. He looked like a changed man. He no longer needed a cane, he could ride a bike, walk, hike and had so much more energy. The impact on his friends and patients was huge. Each asked him how he did it, and wanted him to write a book. My mothers house if full of notebooks containing his ideas he was going to compile and turn into a book after retirement. Unfortunately he died 2 weeks after he retired from dentistry.

I am publishing a bit of his wisdom on this blog. I had no idea he shared my idea of getting a priesthood blessing for help with losing weight. My husband said "you are so much like your dad!"
Thanks Mel that is a great compliment.

duh ralph

duh
Main Entry:
duh
Pronunciation:
\ˈdə, usually with prolonged ə\
Function:
interjection
Date:
1966
1 —used to express actual or feigned ignorance or stupidity 2 —used derisively to indicate that something just stated is all too obvious or self-evident

I just caught myself saying "duh....". The word in my mind conveys a drooling pre-pubescent with or without braces and plenty of zits showing their mental superiority. I can't believe it came back. I wonder how much I have said it without realizing that the word is back in my vocab. While saying it as the zit faced girl I drew out the U and made the inflection go up and down like a roller coaster; "duuuuuhhh" I said it this way if I wanted to be especially emphatic. Sometimes the word was used with "Ralph" as in "duh Ralph" even if the person addressed was not named Ralph. Inside the deep reaches of my brain dusty synapses type out a code telling me that this phrase came from Happy Days, Potsie saying it to Ralphie, or was it Joanie?... Could this be right? However it came to be, it covered the airwaves of the late seventies and early 80's.

The word conveys superiority, as in "I already knew that", or "isn't it obvious?" Lets say you are sitting in front of a bag or multiple bags of Halloween candy and someone says "Are you going to eat that?" you could reply "duh" as in "do you really have to ask?"

The problem with being a homemaker is that you are home. So is the candy. You have no chance resisting. Don't even try. You have to come up with something else. This is what I urge you to do:

1. Donate to the Bishops candy jar. As a former Bishops wife I can say that filling up that thing gets expensive, but is great P.R. Who knows - doing a good deed for the bishop could add a pool to your mansion on high.
2. Give your children the speech that all candy left in a place which can be found will be confiscated and flushed.
3. Pack candy up in a box, wrap it with duct tape and place in the back of spouses car. This can be retrieved for stocking stuffers at Christmas time. This will keep you away from the justification you will come up with when faced with chocolate Santas, and mint Hershey kisses while grocery shopping.
4. Set a time limit - 3 days, 5 days, 1 week. Let candy magically disappear. If you are too sentimental get your husband to do it, let him be the bad guy. Give him the incentive of a beautiful wife in a beautiful body, he will be sure to jump on board and help you out.
5. If you are thrifty and hate to throw anything out get over yourself. Candy is the symbol of Halloween. The holiday is over. Time to pack up the pumpkins throw the candy out and move on to Veterans day.

Come up with other ideas, share them, each of us need the help. We are in danger. "Are you going to eat that?" Don't fool yourself. The answer unfortunately is "duuuuhhh".

The Game

6 years ago yesterday morning my dad died suddenly and unexpectedly of a pulmonary embolism. Shock, pain and grief cloud my memories of the day. Halloween for me is a time of mixed emotions. I have many wonderful memories of trick or treats but one big cloud. The day my dad died I went shopping, trying to find some food to feed my incoming family. I couldn't believe that there were people dressed up and celebrating. I wanted the world to stop and acknowledge the passing of this great man.

During that time I used anything and everything I could get as a outlet for grief. That included sleep, tears, food, anger, humor, loud music, prayer, scriptures, friends and family. I tried to tap off some of the pressure I felt from the fullness of pain. I was willing to try anything.

I came up with a subconscious game. It is a game of sabotage, it only requires one person, one temptation and a pain I want to be distracted from. It is played like this: While alone I think, "I am not hungry - I don't even want to eat cake, I have no desire for that chocolate cake sitting on the table," After awhile my thoughts change to, "I am going to eat it, I am going to take a fork and eat the whole thing....no idea why, it just seems like the wrong thing to do and I am going to do it." Then the cake disappears. The next stage in the game goes like this: Guilt and pain say "You are such a fat cow, I bet you will even eat those tortilla chips won't you? You know you aren't hungry but you will..." and then I do. The game goes on and on until sick, disgusted or both.

A thin beautiful friend told me once that the rules to losing weight are simple. Eat less and exercise more. She told me that she didn't understand why people had such a hard time with it - they should just stop putting food into their mouths. The game isn't ingrained in her head.

I still catch myself playing the game when bored, lonely, sad, overwhelmed or exhausted. I don't want to, it is not a conscious decision - I am playing it before I even realize it. That is why I teach sabotage. When I get to the stage where the first bites are taken it is almost too late. Sometimes I can catch myself and destroy the enemy washing it down the sink, other times I am helpless.

To sabotage the game routine is important: I exercise every morning. I try to only have things on hand that I can eat. I try to protect myself by not having a cake on the counter. But the most important step for sabotage is to be aware of the thing I am distracting myself from. It could be something simple like procrastinating paying bills or cleaning house, or harder like an unresolved fight, hurt feelings, or guilt. Each thing usually has a better solution than shoveling food into my mouth. Being aware of what I am hiding from can be the first step to fixing it. Asking Heavenly Father for help is the second. I have now asked for things some may think silly, help with house work, help to get the desire to apologize, or help to want to read the scriptures. Each time I pray I am answered. The list of things that Heavenly Father can fix is endless, but not always instant. Sometimes he won't fix the problem, sometimes he will just offer me peace. If I am willing to take that I can be changed.

I was blessed with a wonderful father. I am blessed with a perfect Heavenly Father. Each want me to be happy. When I was a girl I fell a lot. If I needed a band aid I could always count on my dad to have one in his wallet. He would pull it out, place it on my wound and I would feel better. Now I am a woman and my dad isn't around. I still have a father who is willing to soothe me with a band aid of peace. He will come to my aid if I but ask. The help he gives is a million times greater than the distraction the game gives