Back to Skinny School

Yesterday it was 7 this morning the scale said 9. last week it said 6 - Pounds. I have gained. I figure I average about 8 pounds total that I have put on. Well on my way to a new dress size.

My half hearted attempt to lose is not working, I must make a plan before everything splats in my face... and then attaches to my waist.

Being skinny doesn't come natural for me. Base line I am fat. I am sure of it. Some mornings I even wonder why I should try, the feeling of food sliding into my gullet is a comfort that pays off better than a mirror. If I wanted to be thin only to fit into skinny jeans then it just wouldn't be worth it. That motivator alone just may send me out shopping for fat pants. The tourniquet that is my skinny pants must serve not as a motivator but a reminder of - "a bright recollection of all (my) guilt. Alma 11:43

I need to remember and recommit to my weight loss motivators.

Family. As a mother I set the tone of our house. When I eat at world record pace and then go for a second term - my children race to keep up.

Self. I love the feeling of being healthy, I just do, enough said.

Blog. Silly, but I need the feeling of being accountable, even if no one reads it, I am out there for all to see

Spirit. Alma 37:47
47 And now, my son, see that ye take care of these sacred things (ie - my body), yea, see that ye look to God and live.

So, it is back to skinny school for me. I am getting back on the health bus, and if you will excuse me, I have an elliptical to ride.

The fat girls club

In September 2001 I kissed my husband goodbye. He was leaving on a business trip to Paris. It was an exciting time, not only was my husband able to go somewhere wonderful, we had a secret. We were finally pregnant! For some reason it had been harder that time, and we were thrilled when the ept test came back with two lines instead of one.

On September 11 my husband was flying home when the World Trade Center was attacked. His plane was over the ocean at the time, and his flight diverted to Gander Newfoundland. I didn’t hear from him for the whole day. To make things worse, I was cramping and had started spotting. I had no idea where he was or what was going on, I was scared.

The spotting and cramping continued and I was sure a miscarriage was imminent. The pain worsened however and the bleeding stopped. After 5 days Mel returned home. By that time the pain was so severe that we went straight to my OB. An ultrasound was taken and we found that I had an eptopic pregnancy. Surgery was necessary and I was taken to the hospital.

When I awoke, no longer pregnant I felt pure grief. A couple weeks later I wrote:

“The loss of this pregnancy has really affected me. More than I thought possible. I find watching others with babies makes me sad. I am surprised. I don’t understand the reason for my grief.
Thinking that I still can have other children later on brings very little solace, no real comfort for the pain I have.
I don’t understand why I grieve over one I do not know. I keep telling myself to get over it. My spirit won’t listen to my mind. Today Marlen came and said, “I’m sorry’ to me and gave me a hug.
It made me cry – I’m sorry too. It hurts much more than I thought it would.”

That experience made me part of a “club”. I get it now. I don’t tell mothers who miscarried “Oh well, this is natures way of culling out the bad." or try to lessen her grief by telling her stories of someone who had it worse. It helps nothing. I have learned a bit better to “mourn with those who mourn” (Mosiah 18:9)

Another club I am in is the fat girls club. We fat girls like to be with others who are fat. We are funny; we laugh at each others embarrassments. We comfort each other. We share our peanut M&M’s. We buy our friends Symphony bars when they have a hard day. We get it. We band together. Membership is an identity.

When I get a present others don’t, I feel guilty. When I first lost weight I felt apologetic. I wanted to say really loud, “Hi, I am sorry I look thin, but really, I am a fat girl inside, can I still be in the club?” “Can I still laugh with you at the funny things skinnies say (like I would rather sleep than eat), and will you not be offended if I give the Symphony bar to my son?” Who wants to be exclusive friends with the skinnies? They don’t hear the siren call of the ice cream at two in the morning, I have heard one skinny say that sometimes she just “forgets to eat” Who does that? They don't quite get what you are going through. You want to keep your old friends. You fear you are abandoning them, pretentiously trying to move from their table to the "popular" table in the lunchroom. Remember the recent study that said people who have fat friends are three times more likely to be obese? I think its because part of being in the club is that you give each other permission to sin. “Well, If you have a chili dog, there is no way I am going to eat a salad!” You laugh and say, “well there goes my diet today, pass the pizza!”

We have to change the membership requirements for our fat girls club. Let’s be formerly fat girls who get it, and would like to sell her soul for a pastry, yet is showing restraint. You could never forget to eat. Fatties at heart, skinnies in looks. It isn’t so scary if you give your friends more credit. Will they really be sad if you order the salad? Maybe you could invite them to do the same. Maybe they would like it if you brought baked Lays instead of full fat Cheetos to the party. Ask them to slap your hand away from pizza, the way they do for diabetics grabbing handfuls of candy. Get their support and changing will be easier.

At baptism we make a covenant that we are “willing to bear one anothers burdens that they may be light; Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort…”(Mosiah 18:8-9) I love the sisterhood of support that we have. I have been comforted, lifted up and encouraged by my friends. I am grateful for them. I have not changed my heart size or my humor size because I changed my pant size. I didn't lose my friends. I am sure that you won’t either. Go ahead, you have permission to change, and you can still be in “the club”

Calamity Jane is "Free to Choose"

In my marriage prep class I was taught about labels becoming self fulfilling prophecies. The professor taught that we sometimes make a blanket statement based on little information, and that it will come true to us in our eyes. The example was. . .”My husband ALWAYS leaves his socks on the floor”. Every time we then see the socks lying next to the bed we feel almost validated. “I told you that he does that” (said in a voice of smug satisfaction), a close look at reality would show that he probably got the socks into the basket SOMETIMES.

Let’s look at labels, self imposed or other wise. When I was a little girl in first grade, I carried a tray of food high over my head. I tripped and as I fell, I managed to save the tray. My family thought that was funny and gave me the nick-name “Calamity Jane”. After I was so christened, if I tripped or stumbled (as any growing girl who is too small for her growing body) I would hear “Calamity Jane”. I kind of liked the distinction, and thought the name was great (especially after I saw the Doris Day movie). The problem was I was not trying things because I thought of myself as clumsy. Who decided that? Why did I have to make the label true?

Who decided you were a fat girl? What if we all decided to look at ourselves with honesty? I could say “I am a skinny girl who only knew one way of coping with some really tough things. I thought food would fix it. I now am acquiring knowledge and am learning to acquire peace and comfort differently."

We break out of our ruts with knowledge. Look at what I have learned: I have learned to check pockets for crayons before putting jeans in the wash. I have learned that the smell in the bathroom is found behind the toilet on the floor. I know what “ring of fire” refers to in childbirth, and I have learned to ask for an epidural upon arrival at the hospital.

We could go on and on listing the lessons learned, and the behaviors we have changed because we learned a better way. We can learn to be healthy, why then do we expect that because we are fat, we will always be fat? Do you really ALWAYS overeat? Do you really ALWAYS hate to exercise? Surely there are positive behaviors we can focus on instead of making our label true. Why did I give up my agency to a self-imposed label? If you have changed other behaviors before by using knowledge, you certainly can re-learn to eat, or re-learn to find exercise enjoyable. So here's what you do, subscribe to fittness magazines, check out books in the library, even buy the magazines that have something about weight loss in it. Apply the things that might work for you, and jettison the bad. Use common sense and the word of wisdom. Remember "All grain is ordained for the use of man..., to be the staff of life"(D&C 89:14) that pretty much destroys the Atkins thing doesn't it? You just try something new each day, and you are on your way.

We learn in plan of salvation 101 that life is a time to learn and gain experiences: “Seek ye diligently and teach one another words of wisdom; yea, seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning, even by study and also by faith.” (D&C 88:118)

Decide who you want to be and begin today to be it. “I want to be healthy instead of fat.” “I am going to acquire knowledge on health and nutrition and apply what I learned today.” You get to choose what your label will be. I am no longer Calamity Jane because I am clumsy. I am Calamity Jane because I am a tough woman who can shoot straight.

“Wherefore, men are free according to the flesh; and all things are given them which are expedient unto man. And they are free to choose. . .”(2 Nephi 2:27)

The case against strech pants

There is a certain joy in anonymity. Walking into a grocery store in another city brings a freedom that is alluring. Yes I can go without makeup. Is there a large zit lighting up the left region of my face? Who cares? I don’t know a soul. Children lying on floor screaming? You can step over them, pretend they are not yours and no one would know otherwise. No, I do not have to control my children. Yes I can put the extra-large package of toilet paper right next to the frozen burritos and chocolate bars on top of the cart. No need to be discreet, no need to be self-conscious. I can even mutter unkind things to the person with 14 items in the twelve items or less and not worry that he could be my former Bishop.

Thighs feel the same way. As smoke grows to fill a room so does your thigh grow to fill your pants. A size tag on my bottom offers a monitor and a warning for better behavior. While anonymity in a grocery store is freeing – anonymity, as in not knowing what size you are, is dangerous.

Everyone has a favorite pair of fat pants. They are usually comfortably stretchy and in black (the color that minimizes). There is no other size on the tag besides XXL or better yet “one size fits all”. You think they are your best friend but they deceive. I have been known to cut off the size tag of particularly offending apparel just to improve my self esteem. I worry that there could be size police that look inside my clothing and mock me while I am not looking. But the denial of my size is in the big picture going to keep me from changing it.

I have talked before of the danger of denial. Denial is not your friend. I will once again quote the good doctor and say: “you can’t change what you don’t acknowledge.”

Know your size. Know what your first goal is and when you want to reach it. Did you know that every 10 lbs lost means you shrink a dress size? Are you a 26? Shout it to the world. “I am a 26 and I am not going to take it anymore!” Tell the world “In 2 months time I will be a 24, and in another 2 months I will be a 22, and in another 2 months as a size 20 I will take my 26 pants and use them for a tent to shelter and keep my svelte body warm and dry!“

Police your size. A size is like a ruler. If it seems to be getting a bit harder to breathe in your size 18’s then don’t jump up a size, use the pain to remind you that seconds are out of the question just now, and use them to give you the ability to say: “NO, I do NOT want a doggie bag- I would like to avoid looking like a St. Bernard. “

Time to liken because that is what I like to do: Let’s think repentance. If you do not acknowledge that what you are doing is wrong then you will not be able to get to the actual changing part. Knowledge is power. Knowing our size is like repentance in that we have to understand that what we are doing is taking us in the opposite direction of where we want to go. My mission president told us that every evening we needed to repent, that that was what the gospel is - the gospel of repentance. I felt insulted at first. Could he think that I could sin every day???? Well turns out I can , did, and do. I will never grow if I don't practice repentance. It is such a wonderful way to feel close to Heavenly Father. Not admitting that we are doing things wrong will make it so we can't learn how to do things right. That goes for both sin and the way we care for our bodies.

The last thing that I have to say before I pack for our “holiday” (Canadian word for vacation) is – Always jump into your new size and then burn the bridges that lead back to fat land. As I dropped the weight I found a certain doubt and fear would haunt me. I kept the clothes that were 2 or three sizes too large in a garbage bag in the garage. I kept thinking that it represented a bunch of money and what if I got fat again?

Think every faith analogy that you learned in primary. Think of the fear and faith not being able to co-exist thing. I don’t have time to write all of the lessons but you have taught them a million times. Now teach yourself. It is scary to give up doubt. When you save the clothes that you shrunk out of it means that you don’t believe in your partnership with God. Burning those bridges means a commitment to change. It means that you are ready to be a new person. It means learning a whole new way to walk (anyone else thinking of the sesame street song?). You are going to have to do the likening but I am sure you can tell where I am going. My husband poo-pooed the fear and drove the fat clothes to the D.I. He said that I was being silly and that I wasn’t going to be fat again. I felt scared and excited that he believed that I could do it. This is the new me.

I still have night terrors that include me ballooning like Violet in Wonka Land but, I am building new friendships and I hope that you will all police me. “Thee lift me and I’ll lift thee and together we’ll ascend”

You can learn a lot from a chick

The food was delicious, and I was ready to grab seconds during dinner, but the thought came to my mind (remember I had prayed for guidance)
“Are you two people?”
“No”, I thought back.
“Do you want to look like two people?”
“Um, no. . .”
“Then why would you eat two peoples food?”
“Uh, habit?”

If you go to the Spencer Kimball tower at BYU you can take an elevator to the very top floors (I think you need a key). Here they keep the chicks. I know that because I have held those chicks in my hands. These are not the co-ed kind but the kind that eat feed, peep and live in little cages. For one of my classes we were offered extra credit if we would help the graduate students train the chicks using operant conditioning. This is the use of consequences (in this case feed) to modify behavior (teach them to peck a button). One teacher told how he conditioned a girlfriend to come and clean his kitchen. (Beware of psych majors)

I know that each one of us is given free agency; I also know sometimes trained habits take away that free agency. Let’s say you want to teach me to not over-eat. First you need to figure out what the reward has been. Of course, food tastes good! I love food! Food takes me to a happy place. While I place chunky monkey ice cream in my mouth, I am completely focused on the mmmmmm. In order to go to that happy place I have conditioned myself to use food to put me there.

Second, and here is the tough part; in order to modify your eating you have to find a different reward to get the mmmmmmm (or live without the mmmmm, but who wants that?)

Surely in those days long ago when you were thin you had things that kept you busy that you enjoyed, ways you got the chunky monkey out of life. Learning, dating, dancing, driving, swimming, flirting. What was it that kept you from eating so much on your dates? Didn’t we all have better manners then? We ate slower, dressed better, flirted more and never grabbed something from the serving bowl with our fingers.

Back in the thin years I had a million ways to get the mmmmmm. When I got fat I only had food. I had a million reasons I couldn’t keep up my hobbies, most of them were my children. So I had to pick new ones.

I eat when I watch TV, I took up embroidery. It is impossible to eat and sew at the same time. I eat with the kids when they get home from school, I found the joy of bubble gum and placed it in all my kitchen drawers. I eat when I get tired. I go to bed. Find mmmmm’s not m&ms. Find things that payoff and make it impossible to eat. Can you eat French fries while on the back of a bike? Can you eat seconds while you are busy cleaning up? (Clean up immediately after finishing your plate of food – it is a bit easier to resist food that is in the garbage can).

Remember you conditioned yourself to get the habit started; you can condition yourself out of it.

If this works for you, don’t thank me, thank a chicken.

“You Can’t Be Thin In Ignorance”

I read a book, I think it was “Cold Sassy Tree” (amazing book) The grandpa told his grandson Will, something like “if you want to end up somewhere different you have to walk a different path.”

That week I placed in my bathroom: my copy of Dr. Phil’s book “Ultimate Weight Solution” “Set for life” and “Stop the insanity!” and other books like that along with every magazine that said something like” I lost ½ my size!!!” I decided to have a daily weight loss devotional in that one safe spot mothers have found the world over. I had already read and filled in all of the blanks of the Dr’s book, but it was hard to remember every day what I read a week ago. For one week I decided to read books on weight loss every morning and find one idea that I could try that day. If books can help ordinary people to become doctors, lawyers, runners, and mountain climbers then I could learn to be thin.

It takes humility to learn from someone else. But if you are fat like I was your knowledge isn’t getting you anywhere. For example, one magazine article I read said, “I was always hungry” I was shocked! I didn’t think I was going to make that kind of sacrifice. Was I willing to be hungry sometimes? I didn’t know. I usually avoided that feeling by constantly eating. I read so many different points of view and most of the ideas I had never even thought of.

So, my next step was that after my prayer, I would come up with a strategy suggested by someone else and try it that day.

Anyone else have a favorite inspiring piece of literature to place in bathrooms the world over?