Here's looking at . . . me!

I carry . . .

JHSEsq — Sun, 18 Nov 2007 07:04:39 +0000

I carry . . .

. . . full responsibility for not following through with this site.

I broke one of the cardinal rules of blogging: I did not do what I said I would do. Yet.

I have fallen behind in my writing about Fat is a Feminist Issue. I have no excuse and many excuses. It is much harder for me to write about what I am reading than I imagined it would be. The book simply hits way “too close to home.” This is not my first time reading it, but it is my first time reading it at this point in my life. At this age. In the reflective light of all the life experiences that I carry with me at all times.

But that, of course, is the point, isn’t it?

One of my high school music teachers went on to become a licensed marriage, family and child counselor (MFCC) and offered classes on weight management. She used a system called “Think and Be Thin.” Participants were challenged to categorize food as “pleasers” or “teasers.” The former are foods that satisfy you fully, while the latter are just like they sound: Tantalizing but lacking the substance or quality to cure hunger. Instead, they just lead you to eat more. An example is potato chips. They are not satisfying; rather, for most people, they lead to continued eating, frequently resulting in a full-fledged binge. The other main concept was this: Using a numerical rating system, class members were supposed to keep a journal and make a note of whether they were totally hungry each and every time they consumed food. In other words, you should not eat if you are not at “0″ or “empty.” And we were supposed to train ourselves to stop eating when we were comfortably full, not at “10″ or feeling completely stuffed.

It all makes perfect sense, of course, especially to anyone who has never struggled with weight issues. But it is harder to live than it sounds and, after a few months, I reverted to my old eating patterns.

The thing that I took away from the class, however, and have never forgotten is what my teacher/counselor told the group numerous times: “Every extra pound you carry represents an emotion you have not dealt with.” Her theory was that if those emotions are not confronted head-on and worked through, the compulsive eater will continue forcing them down through the misuse of food (sometimes referred to as “eating the emotions” or “swallowing the feelings”) until they are finally, effectively explored. In other words, they will surface again and again throughout one’s life. When they do, you can choose to face and get past them once and for all, or stuff them down again until the next time that they bob to the surface.

As Happytiler wrote today:

I carry guilt, abuse, anger, and illness

Layered in pound after pound upon my body

That counselor was, of course, absolutely right. And Fat is a Feminist Issue largely deals with those emotions with a specific focus on how women have developed unhealthy coping mechanisms in response to their socioeconomic circumstances.

So it is difficult to read and even more difficult to write about because to do so effectively requires an exploration of the emotions and life events that have, quite literally, shaped me, and that I carry every day in the form of extra pounds. Much of what Orbach writes about leaves me feeling raw, naked, and highly vulnerable. Therein lies the value of her work.

I carry not just the comments made to me over the years by my mother, but also many other people. I carry the nonverbal reactions from many people that have left me wondering if they really saw and heard me. I carry the weight — again, literally — of the choices I have made over the years, fueled in varying degrees by my physical status and appearance, as well as the real or imagined limits I perceived upon those choices as I weighed them through the lenses I have imposed upon myself.

An individual who has never struggled with his/her weight simply cannot understand the degree to which one’s weight permeates and impacts each and every aspect of one’s daily living and decision-making, from the simplest to most complex and life-altering circumstances and situations. That’s the process I seek to understand through my work with Orbach’s book, as well as other resources.

The good news is that I saw my doctor on November 6, 2007. I do not weigh regularly, as I have explained here previously. So I stand on the doctor’s scale backwards and ask them to merely “do the math,” telling me the number of pounds by which my weight has changed since my most recent visit. In this instance, an additional weight loss of 20 pounds was noted. That means that since I began this concentrated effort to achieve maximum health and fitness, I have lost 75 pounds.

I was actually quite surprised because I was on a plateau for at least a couple of months, during which I did not feel like I was losing any weight at all. But then one morning I noticed that a skirt was looser and began noticing the same thing with several other items of clothing. My visit with the doctor confirmed that, so I can conclusively state that I have moved off that plateau which was causing me to feel frustrated, disappointed and uninspired to continue writing here.

Ultimately, though, I carry a responsibility to myself to keep writing on this site because it memorializes my journey and stands as a testament to the goals I have set for myself, my progress toward attaining those goals, and helps motivate me during those times when I become discouraged. And if my writing here about the weight — literal and metaphorical — that I carry each day helps or encourages one other person who is struggling with the same issues, I will have provided a service and can feel happy about that.

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Reading Project: Fat is a Feminist Issue (Week One)

JHSEsq — Sun, 14 Oct 2007 22:00:15 +0000

Although originally published in 1978, the main theme and sub-theses of Fat is a Feminist Issue, by Susie Orbach, are as timely today as then. In fact, its message is even more relevant and critical to women’s health in an era when bodies “have almost come to define the way our lives can be lived.” We are preoccupied and obsessed with our bodies and, increasingly, “women are not realizing how quickly their lives have become dominated by” concerns about their size and the desire to be a perfect example of what the popular culture, i.e., predominantly the mainstream media, food, fashion, and diet industries, decrees attractive.

“Dieting, as I argue in this book, is a recipe for increasing eating problems.” ~~ Susie Orbach

Orbach posits that our innate appetite control mechanism has been corrupted by these outside influences and led to emotional eating on an epidemic scale. Food has taken on attributes such as “good” or “bad,” leaving us “befuddled” and out of step with our natural ability to monitor our food intake and allow our bodies to regulate themselves. As a result, “for every 100 people that go on a diet, 97% of them will be return customers whose diets have failed and who have already regained whatever weight they lost and then some.”

Orbach’s views were developed during the Women’s Movement of the late 1960’s and early 1970’s when a group of women got together to discuss these issues and test the idea that one could actually lose weight without dieting. Before long, Orbach had to confront the fact that she had been eating compulsively and explore why she was afraid of being thin.

The things I was frightened of came into vision. I confronted them, always asking myself — how would it help to be fat in this situation? What would be more troublesome if I were thin? As the image of my fat and thin personality conflated, I began to lose weight. I felt a deep satisfaction that I could be a size that felt good for me and no longer obsessed with food. I had learned a crucial lesson — that I could be the same person thin as I was fat.

Compulsive eating has never been concisely defined by the medical or psychological communities, but Orbach asserts that the characteristics of a compulsive eater are:

Eating when you are not physically hungry.
Feeling out of control around food, submerged by either dieting or gorging.
Spending a good deal of time thinking and worrying about food and fitness.
Scouring the latest diet for vital information.
Feeling awful about yourself as someone who is out of control.
Feeling awful about your body.

My goal in establishing this blog and taking on this reading project is to understand, at long last, just why I have spent my entire life afraid of being thin. I have been on the dieting roller coaster Orbach describes and, exactly as she observes, not only gained back all weight lost, but more. My goal is to live normally, eating only those foods that are healthy for me and meet my particularized needs without obsessing about my food choices or feeling that every moment of every day is devoted to the avoidance of certain foods. In other words, I am seeking to merge the image of my fat and thin personalities into one.

Yes, I have spent the better part of my life as a compulsive eater. Each of the criteria set forth by Orbach describe me in varying degrees during different time intervals. And that reality has not only impacted my self-image and self-confidence, but my relationships.

I invite you to consider Orbach’s words and leave a comment expressing your reaction. Do her words resonate with you? Have your experiences been similar? Do you share any of the characteristics of a compulsive eater that she identifies? Or can you identify additional attributes that she does not list?

Reading Project: Fat is a Feminist Issue

JHSEsq — Thu, 11 Oct 2007 13:01:01 +0000

~~ Featured in the Sixth Edition of Feminism at its Finest at Menstrual Poetry ~~

I previously mentioned that I would be writing about “Fat is a Feminist Issue” by Susie Orbach. When I read this book nearly 25 years ago, it was a life-changing experience. I have gone back and read parts of it from time to time over the years, but decided that it is time to re-read it in its entirety and write about it here, so I purchased the January 2006 revised edition. Originally, published in 1978, the book has been updated and reissued numerous times.

I invite you to read with me and join in a discussion of the book.

Each Sunday, I will write about successive sections of the book. I am not breaking it into chapters because there are only seven and each is packed with so much information that I think the discussion should be focused upon smaller segments.

This Sunday, I will publish an article based upon Orbach’s Preface and Introduction which explain her thesis, the book’s genesis, and what has transpired in the years since its initial publication during the Women’s Movement.

If you would like to participate, all you need to do is obtain a copy of the book which is inexpensive and readily available in paperback — any edition is fine because the only change is the update offered at the beginning. Then drop by this Sunday, read my introductory article, and join in the discussion. I will write about the first chapter next Sunday, October 21, 2007, which will allow time for those of you who wish to obtain a copy to do so.

It is not necessary that you read the sections of the book that I am going to be writing about by a specific date. My articles will remain here so that you can join the discussion at any time, reading and participating in the conversation as your own time constraints allow.

If you struggle with compulsive eating and have spent years trying to figure out why, this book holds the answers. Orbach writes honestly and with a respect for women that is, in my opinion, missing from cacophonous discussion of dieting taking place every day and from every conceivable media source in this country. If you are serious about understanding why you have found it so hard to break old behavioral and eating patterns, reading this book might be a life-altering experience for you, too.

Wordless Wednesday #9

JHSEsq — Tue, 09 Oct 2007 23:01:56 +0000

That’s me in 1961 at the age of four with my older sister. Note you can see our father’s reflection in the glass as he snaps the photo in front of the living room window of what is now my house. My mother sewed those dresses for us and I still have mine: It is pink with black velvet ribbons and is worn by one of my large dolls who is supposed to be three years old.

Tips and Tricks Writing Project

JHSEsq — Thu, 20 Sep 2007 13:46:25 +0000

I participated in Daily Blog Tips’ Writing Project: Tips and Tricks by including my article, Thirteen Tips to Help You Resume Your Health and Fitness Program When You Get Off Track.

There were many submissions and a lot of great information shared. Here’s the complete list of articles:

The One Lie My Mother Told Me (Part Two)

JHSEsq — Wed, 12 Sep 2007 07:10:36 +0000

Ten Lies The One Lie My Mother Told Me
(Part Two)

Have you ever ~~bribed~~ offered a reward to your child to encourage him/her to attain a goal?

A couple of years ago, my kids wanted new computers. So I made a deal with them: I agreed to buy the new computers when the school year ended — they wanted them for their summer vacation when they could play a certain game — if they achieved an agreed-upon grade point average.

All that semester, they asked me repeatedly, as they proudly showed me their graded tests and papers, “Mom, if we keep this up, we’re going to get our computers, right?”

“Absolutely,” I would tell them as I posted more “A” papers on the refrigerator.

“You would be so pretty if only you would lose weight.”

I remember how their eyes lit up when the UPS truck stopped in front of the house and the driver rang the doorbell with a big smile on his face.

“Did somebody here get good grades?” he asked as he brought in the boxes.

But have you ever bribed your child to lose weight?

The Denim Pantsuit

In the 1970’s, we all wore pantsuits. I found one I really wanted that was made of denim and had flowers embroidered on it.

Unfortunately, it was not available in my size.

My mother bought it for me even though it was at least two sizes too small. I recall that I could not zip the pants and the arms of the jacket were way too tight.

She bought it “with the understanding that” I was going to lose weight so that I would be able to wear it.

You know how this story ends, don’t you?

The pantsuit hung on the outside of my closet as inspiration. Every time my mother came into my room and saw it, she would nag me about the fact that I was not losing weight, reminding me that she had spent “good, hard-earned money” on that outfit.

Every time I looked at those beautiful pants and the matching denim jacket with the colorful and delicate flowers embroidered on the collar and cuffs, I was reminded that I was a big, fat failure who would never been seen in public wearing that lovely ensemble. The combination of staring at that pantsuit every day and listening to my mother drone on about the fact that my goal was becoming increasingly unattainable, made me eat more and gain weight.

Then I would look at it again and hate myself for having no self-control. And for not wanting to wear it badly enough to exercise self-control. And wonder why I could not seem to conquer my self-destructive tendencies. And I was disgusted with myself for wasting my parent’s money because it truly was hard-earned, which she reminded me about daily, as she told me, yet again,

“You would be so pretty if only you would lose weight.”

There were other bribes, too. When I was a freshman in high school, I was supposed to lose 30 or so pounds in order to get a 10-speed Schwinn bicycle. Eventually, my father took pity on me and bought me the bike because all of my friends had 10-speeds and I was still riding my old 3-speed that he had purchased for me at Sears several years earlier.

You guessed it. I gained weight that time, too.

The pantsuit remained in the closet for many years, never worn. Long after I became an adult, moved out and established my own home — and the pantsuits with bell-bottom legs had gone out of fashion — I came over to help my mother. She pulled it out of the closet and held it up.

“Remember this?” she said, waving the hanger in my face as the price tag still dangled from the arm of the jacket.

I hadn’t thought about that pantsuit in many years and certainly had no clue that she had kept it. The moment I saw it, though, all the feelings of failure and self-revulsion associated with it came flooding back.

“Oh, jeez, Mother. That thing is still here?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes,” she said in a disgusted tone. “We might as well give it to the Good Will. You’re never going to be able to wear it. You’re much bigger now that you were when I bought it for you. You never lost the weight you said you were going to. You just wasted my good, hard-earned money.”

I offered to pay for the pantsuit, but she waved her hand and went into the other room as I packed it into the box.

Forgiving is Easy; Forgetting is Not

My parents did the best they could. In writing these articles, my goal is not to criticize or dishonor them in any way. I forgave them many years ago for any parenting mistakes they made.

But forgiveness is only the first step in fully assessing and analyzing messages received as a child. Next comes the process of recovering from the resultant emotional damage.

As with weight loss, I’ve been down this road before, but never completed the process.

I saw a counselor many years ago who explained that until I dealt with the emotional aspects of overeating fully and fearlessly, the same old “tapes” would continue playing in my head repeatedly and the behavioral patterns would manifest themselves over and over, too. She warned me that I would lose weight, but resume emotional eating and regain it. She was, of course, absolutely correct.

This is the time to confront the emotional issues, work through them, and break the patterns once and for all.

Why now? The answer to that question is deceptively simple. My life depends upon it. Literally.

As I explained when I founded this site, my health and well-being were in jeopardy when I determined to make permanent changes to my lifestyle. I was at my heaviest, had developed allergies and my asthma was completely out of control. Two things that many people take for granted, I was increasingly having trouble doing without great effort: Breathing and sleeping. I was miserable. That unhappiness motivated me in ways that nothing else had or could.

A Mother Does Her Best

My mother thought that she doing what was best for me. She thought that her behavior and comments would help me, inspire me, convince me . . . She loved her children and she demonstrated that love using the life skills she possessed. I know those things to be true because, as a mother, I have done my very best for my kids, but my efforts have sometimes come up short.

I tell them, “Just remember the five most important words when you are on the psychiatrist’s couch working through your issues: ‘It’s all my mother’s fault.’”

They just look at each other, roll their eyes, groan “oh, Mooooooom,” and go back to their rooms.

My mother was not very sophisticated. She was extremely intelligent and talented, but lived a very sheltered life. She did not work outside the home, did not socialize much. She led a very simple, but productive life, centered around her husband, children and home.

So she never had any idea that, by telling me that I would become pretty if I lost weight, she was tacitly telling me that I was decidedly not pretty just as I was. The message she communicated was that I was not “good enough” and would not become “good enough” until I altered my physical appearance. She did not understand that she was judging and branding me, or cementing for me a self-image that was completely at odds with reality.

“Pretty” became a concept reserved for other girls who were thin. “Pretty” became a state I could never achieve because I could not get and keep the extra weight off.

The irony is, of course, that self-loathing just leads to more destructive behavior. The cycle repeats itself day after day.

To be continued . . .

The One Lie My Mother Told Me (Part One)

JHSEsq — Sun, 09 Sep 2007 21:50:29 +0000

Ten Lies The One Lie My Mother Told Me

There is a meme making its way around the blog world: “Ten Lies My Mother Told Me.” When I first discovered it, I reada few of the responses. Some of them were really clever and funny. Some more serious.

But the meme itself and those responses got me started thinking about my childhood experiences and my relationship with my mother vis a vis my weight and self-image.

After considering those topics for a few days now, I can only remember one lie that my mother ever told me.

You might be saying, “Wow, that’s amazing” or thinking that senility has set in and I’m simply unable to recall all the lies she told me over the years. Perhaps you’re even thinking that I’ve repressed the lies — little, white or other — she told me in the deep recesses of my brain and, perhaps through intense psychotherapy, they could be retrieved and examined.

Wrong on all counts.

My mother was simply a straight-up, honest — blunt — person. “Boy, that apple landed close to the tree,” you’re thinking.

The Lie

She told me only one thing that wasn’t true, but she did so repeatedly over the course of many years, even when I was well into adulthood:

“You would be so pretty if only you would lose weight.”

I hadn’t thought about those words in a long time, but in the process of thinking about participating in this meme, they came flooding back to me.

The Plateau

I have been at a weight-loss plateau for awhile now. The weight is still coming off, but very, very slowly. Because of that, although I have not reverted to my outlandishly bad eating patterns, I have been backsliding just a bit.

No, I still do not eat any form of junk food. I gave all of it up more than a year ago. But I have eaten a little too much here and there, a little too late at night, gone out to restaurants a little too often not armed with my salad dressing and made menu choices that were not the most reasoned.

If you have ever struggled with your weight, you know that the inevitable times when you reach a plateau are dangerous times. Reaching a plateau is the point when the temptation to revert to old thinking, eating and behavioral patterns is the strongest, even though plateaus are completely natural and nothing more than your body adjusting to its new form and composition.

Your head is simultaneously adjusting to your new identity — the messages you are projecting to the world and the manner in which the world perceives you. The rush of initial weight loss has faded. People may not be noticing as often that you have lost weight which is completely normal because their image of you has evolved. Your clothing is becoming looser but at a much slower rate.

When you reach a plateau, you must remain committed to the program you designed for yourself that has worked up to that point. It will continue to work for you. It may be necessary to vary and intensify your fitness routine and / or adjust your nutrition plan, but if you persevere, you will continue on your journey to optimal health and fitness levels.

The Origins of the Lie

Intellectually, I know that my mother did not mean to hurt me. At this juncture in my life, I understand that fact with the clarity that can only be achieved after having raised children myself.

I know that mothering is hard work and sometimes, no matter how hard you try to communicate to your children in order to spare them the painful life lessons that you survived, you say things you later regret. The irony is, of course, that children sometimes have to endure difficulties and learn those life lessons on their own in order to develop survival skills. We simply can’t protect them from everything.

So I get the fact that my mother did the best she could with the skills and limited knowledge of the world she possessed. She was a modest woman who grew up during the Great Depression in a farmhouse on the Prairie that had neither electricity nor plumbing. She went to a little country school via a horse-drawn bus. And she graduated from high school in 1934 only to find that her dream of attending college was unattainable. So she ended up working as a combination cook, housekeeper and babysitter. She used to tell us how her parents sent her off to work for some neighbors from sunrise to sunset. Her wages? “Two dollars per week.”

Sounds primitive, doesn’t it? It was.

It was that primitive upbringing that made her who she was and fueled her to instill great ambition in her children.

Her upbringing in that stark, harsh environment formed her outlook on life — always practical. She was adamant that we should finish college and get good jobs. The idea of bypassing college to get married, have children and become a stay-at-home mother was always foreign to me because her mantra was “Never be dependent upon a man.” That was not a put-down of my father in any way, but, rather, my mother’s declaration about her lack of self-actualization and achievement. She used to tell us that we should finish our education and be able to support ourselves so that we would always have options.

She was a feminist long before the Women’s Movement was born.

So how did a feminist end up telling such an anti-feminist, woman-hating lie to her daughter during her most impressionable, formative years?

To be continued . . .

Wordless Wednesday #8

JHSEsq — Tue, 04 Sep 2007 18:30:03 +0000

Check out my photos of interesting folks on the ferry!

I Hate My Clothes

JHSEsq — Tue, 04 Sep 2007 10:01:04 +0000

And on Labor Day, I . . . labored!

I cleaned out my closet! I filled two extra large trash bags with clothes that are too big! They are on their way to a worthwhile charity.

Wow. There is a lot more room in my closet now and I can actually see clearly what clothes are hanging on the rack.

I also found the bottom of the laundry pile. No kidding. I don’t think I’ve seen it since . . . well, probably last Labor Day! I have laundered myself into a tizzy, but the laundry room has absolutely no baskets of clothes waiting to be washed, the hampers are empty, the bathroom cupboards are bulging with clean towels and linens. I’m surprised there wasn’t a power outage, considering that the washer, dryer, dishwasher and air conditioner have been using up the kilowatts all day long.

In the process of taking a serious inventory of my clothing, I realized something: I hate virtually my entire wardrobe.

As I was pulling clothes out of my closet and trying them on, BigBob would walk by periodically and just shake his head. A couple of times I called him into the bedroom and asked his opinion. He just stood there looking at me, dumbfounded. It was his “What? Are you kidding me?” look. At one point, he got exasperated with me, threw up his hands and said, “Give it all away and start over.” Then he mumbled some words I refuse to type here, stomped off to the family room, turned on the television, and proceeded to yell at Dale Earnhardt, Jr. about his driving.

I found myself asking the same question repeatedly: “What was I thinking when I bought this?” Over and over, I lobbed clothing into those bags, saying, “Good riddance!”

Of course, the reason I purchased them is the same reason that every woman who is struggling with her weight buys the clothes she does: They fit. There are many items of clothing in those bags — and still more hanging in my closet — that I can honestly say I only purchased because I needed to buy something to wear and they at least fit properly (at the time). The selection of large size clothing, especially items suitable for business, is extremely limited. So as a woman of a certain size, you learn to accept what is available, compromising style and individual expression for fit and, all too often, comfort.I have purchased my clothing — all clothing, including shoes and undergarments — online exclusively for several years now.I’ve never really enjoyed shopping, especially for clothing. But ordering online and having clothes delivered also spares one from the exhausting and frustrating experience of taking clothing into a fitting room — and then bringing it right back out when it doesn’t fit. It spares you from the stares, tongue clucking and generalized disapproval of the size 2 clerks that major department stores invariably station in the “Women’s” (Don’t you love that name?) department.Once I figured out what size to order, I just visited the same websites repeatedly, ordering the newest version of whatever I bought last time.

To some extent, that approach has served me well because my professional clothing does tend to be formulaic and uniform-like. After all, there is only so much excitement you can build into basic black, gray and navy blue suits.

But there sure are some beautiful blouses and sweaters than can be worn with them, not to mention accessories.

It will still be quite warm here in Northern California until at least October 1. Even though I hate virtually all of the clothing that remains in my closet tonight, it will serve me until then. That is my target date for taking stock again, with emphasis on fall and winter items. And hopefully, my summer clothing items will all be too large by then and I will be able to fill up a couple more large bags, leaving me nothing for next spring and summer.

Guess that would mean I’d just have to break down and shop. I hope that by then I will be able to actually enjoy it.

Go Figure: Edition No. 1

JHSEsq — Fri, 31 Aug 2007 22:20:19 +0000

There is a brand new group blogging exercise beginning today at Multi-Tasking Moms called “Go Figure.” Each Friday, participants share tips on exercise, weight loss and health, and offer each other support and encouragement.

The timing of this new meme is serendipitous because I took today off work to enjoy a long weekend and get some things done around the house.

Time to Again Take Inventory

Among those things is again tackling the closet. I am still wearing too many clothes that simply no longer fit and they are decidedly unflattering. They have to go.

Last Sunday evening, the Lodi Community Band, in which I play flute (and am beginning to play piccolo a bit), presented its annual summer concert. We wear black pants and our burgundy polo shirts bearing the Band’s logo. My shirt is way too big, even after I put it in the dryer by itself on the highest heat setting. It will not shrink any more. So I told the band member in charge of issuing shirts that I need to trade it in for one two sizes smaller.

As for my black pants . . . I wore a pair of cropped pants that I purchased for our trip to Hawaii in June 2005 with the Stockton Concert Band. I’ve continued to wear them, even though they are too big, because they have a drawstring waist which means that, unlike my other pants, I can adjust them so that they will stay up!

At the end of the concert, the conductor asked all of us to rise and take a bow. That was the point at which BigBob got a good look at me in that oversized shirt and baggy pants. He came up behind me, grabbed a handful of extra material and said, “You have to go shopping! You look like Bozo the Clown!”

Yowza! Brutal!

But honest. The kind of reality-check honesty I need because when I look in the mirror, I see the woman in the picture above, wearing those pants when they fit, not the woman I am today. I see the round-faced woman who became even fatter after that photo was snapped.

So the pants are in the box of fat clothes and I am going to dig through my closet later today, trying on clothes and making an honest assessment about how they fit and whether or not, if they do, I really want to wear them. I am also going to take inventory of the fall-winter items because I suspect there are some cold-weather clothes lurking in the back of the closet that haven’t fit for a few years, but do now. I also need to evaluate which of the clothes I wore the last couple of years still fit. If they don’t, they’re going into the box, too. And BigBob is delivering it to a local women’s shelter this week. No looking back. No saving it “just in case” because under no circumstances can I allow those clothes to ever fit properly again.

Time to Shop

And after I finish taking inventory, I’m going shopping. I have been buying virtually all of my clothing on-line for the past few years. But I no longer know what size I wear which means that I’m going to have to go to the store and actually try clothes on. I would rather have a root canal. I hate to shop, especially for clothes, so I am not looking forward to it.

I also must buy some good walking shoes because it is also . . .

Time to Intensify and Vary the Fitness Routine

This morning, after water aerobics (which included 25 minutes of deep water treading), I met with the manager of the club to which I belong. He got me started on the treadmill! He explained how to establish the correct speed and grade, monitor my heart rate, etc.

My weight loss seems to have plateaued again which means that I have to “pump up” the intensity to jump-start my metabolism again. The manager explained that it is time for me to begin cross-training. So, in addition to continuing with water aerobics, I will be walking on the treadmill, initially for 30 mintues per day.

Since this is a long weekend, I will be back at the club the next three mornings, walking and doing water aerobics. This is the perfect opportunity to get my new routine established because if I am a little sore or tired, I can relax and get acclimated before having to resume work on Tuesday.

So that’s my plan! Check back or, even better, subscribe to my feed because I will definitely be reporting on my progress!

Here's looking at . . . me!

I carry . . .

I carry . . .

Reading Project: Fat is a Feminist Issue (Week One)

Reading Project: Fat is a Feminist Issue

Wordless Wednesday #9

Tips and Tricks Writing Project

Health & Fitness

Blogging

Business & Career

Entertainment

Food

Make Money Online

Photography

Technology & Internet

Travel

Web Development & SEO

Random Topics

The One Lie My Mother Told Me (Part Two)

Ten Lies The One Lie My Mother Told Me (Part Two)

The Denim Pantsuit

Forgiving is Easy; Forgetting is Not

A Mother Does Her Best

The One Lie My Mother Told Me (Part One)

Ten Lies The One Lie My Mother Told Me

The Lie

The Plateau

The Origins of the Lie

Wordless Wednesday #8

I Hate My Clothes

Go Figure: Edition No. 1

Time to Again Take Inventory

Time to Shop

Time to Intensify and Vary the Fitness Routine

Ten Lies The One Lie My Mother Told Me
(Part Two)