All posts by dotyness

I'm a mother, a hockey fan, a photographer, a sugar and nicotine addict, a non-smoking smoker, a struggler, a connoisseur of the absurd, a reader, a traveler, a writer, a student of light and shadow, a foodie, a daughter, a sister, a friend, and a crazy cat lady. I talk to myself more than I care to admit and perhaps even more than is healthy. I'm in a time of great change and turmoil so now I'm talking to you as well as to myself.
Food, Habits, Thought Patterns

Dr. Allie’s Weight Loss Strategies

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As I promised yesterday, here is the list of Dr. Allie’s weight loss recommendations. You can bet that this will be up on my refrigerator right after I finish typing it in to share with you!

  • No starches, sugars, carbs – cereal, break, bagels, rolls, pasta, rice potatoes, sweets, baked goods. No processed foods! Nothing out of a box or bag. Only eat foods that were alive – plants and healthy animals.
  • strategy cycleFruits, vegetables, eggs, chicken, fish, turkey, salad, nuts, seeds, yogurt, beans, lentils, olive oil, tea, berries. Hot peppers and spices!
  • Eat breakfast. Eggs, berries, Greek yogurt, bananas, almonds, pumpkin seeds, oats. Best bread is Ezekiel Sprouted Bread.
  • Drink plenty of water and tea. No soda, juice, milk. No diet soda.
  • No 1-2 big meals daily. Must eat small meal every 3-4 hours.
  • Nothing after 6-7PM. No bedtime or midnight snacks.
  • Baked, no fried. No greasy, fast food.
  • Snacks – almonds/walnuts, carrots, pumpkin seeds, yogurt, apple.
  • No sauce, dressing, ketchup, butter. Instead use cinnamon/turmeric.
  • Sleep enough – over 7 hrs is best.
  • Take Vitamin D3 2000 units, fish oil and probiotics daily.
  • Must exercise at least 30 minutes daily. Both walking and weights. Must be intense, and you must sweat. Not just walking on treadmill while reading or watching TV.
  • For weight loss – best time to exercise is in morning, before breakfast.
  • Also you should walk daily after eating dinner.
  • Every time you put something in your mouth, as yourself: “Is this going to help me reach my goals?”

That is the list that the doctor gave me yesterday. The list differs just a little from what I did when I successfully lost the weight before; but, it doesn’t differ that much. (Still, I will be asking him about sweet potatoes, oatmeal and peanuts, which do not appear on his list but which I ate in portion controlled ways during The Great Reduction.) I can tell you from experience that this stuff works. It’s not fancy; it’s not glamorous; and, it’s not immediate. However, it is a healthful, sane approach and it does work.

And, if you’re going to live the next six months anyway, why not give this a go and live those months a little (or maybe even a lot) more healthfully?

Accountability, General Health

Once More. With Feeling!

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When I first lost 94 pounds three years ago, my lifelong friend Rebecca was one of the people who encouraged me to write this blog to share how I lost the weight and how I was successfully keeping it off. It was a little difficult to write all of that because I’d already lost the weight and really couldn’t remember the struggle step-by-step; so, I wrote most posts from memory, sharing some of the technical information, but omitting a great deal of the feelings because, frankly, I couldn’t remember them at that point. It was kind of like trying to describe child-birth a few months afterwards. You can’t really remember just how ridiculous the pain actually was or maybe you just refuse to believe that that level of pain actually exists. Anyway, guess what! That’s all about to change!!

And here’s why: today I went to my new general practitioner. I haven’t had a regular doctor in a few years and thought I should find one for regular check-ups and that sort of thing. So, I went doctor shopping. Of course, they did the height, weight, blood pressure, heart rate, and blood oxygen saturation stuff. Everything was just lovely…everything except the weight.

Friends, in the last twelve months I have gained 57 pounds. I can tell you’re not picking yourself up off the floor like I did, but I’m sure you can feel at least a little of my pain, frustration, disappointment, embarrassment, and just plain old irritation. How did I let that happen?! How did I put that much weight back on?!

The same way I took it off – one ounce at a time, one bite at a time, one decision at a time. Taking the weight off, I made good decisions about what went into my body and how active I was. This year, however, I made poor decisions by eating carelessly and mindlessly, and by lying to myself about my level of activity.

Since I’ve been to that facility before, Dr. Allie could see where my weight was once 225 (although not my highest of 236), then went down to 165 (although not my lowest of 144), then came up again to today’s weight of 201*. He commented that, clearly, I could make it happen and asked what I wanted his role in this process to be. He liked that I didn’t want any meds to help me and that I wanted him to help monitor my progress and my blood numbers. He’s a whirlwind who, before I knew what was happening, had given me a list of his weight loss strategies (which I’ll share tomorrow) and who challenged me to start running again. He invited me to bring my dog Ellie and to join him and many of his other patients in a 5K on March 19. I really enjoy running; so, I’m in.

In the last year, I’ve talked a few times about starting over and getting back on track; but, you and I both know that I didn’t do it. That was all noise and I was not walking the walk, even though I know that I feel so much better with better fuel in my body, with stronger muscles and with a lower body weight. This time, though, I have someone local to help keep me honest and to whom I am accountable – I even have my follow-up appointment scheduled already to check my progress.

As for the blog, for those of you not on LoseIt! I’ll be sharing my food and exercise journal, which was key to my success before. And this time, Rebecca, I’ll be chronicling the struggle as it happens.

So, here we go again. Let’s do it once more. This time with feeling!

 

 

* I have hesitated (okay, refused) to share my actual weight before on account of I’m a woman and I didn’t want that gawdawful number actually out there. After all, we live in a world of 110 pound, 5’11” perfection and, honey, I ain’t even close – not in any plane of the multiverse. But, here’s the thing, what I hear most from readers that I know and from readers I haven’t yet met is that you value my honesty. If I hide my actual weight from you, then I’m not being as honest as I think we all need to be about our weight and body image struggles. At 144 pounds, I am thin enough. I’m in a size 6 and I feel great. If I were thinner, I would look sick. In truth, there were those who said I didn’t look too healthy as a size 6. (I respectfully disagreed.) Anyway, the ugly truth is that on this day, I weighed in at 201 and unless I grow another foot taller (and at 48, I’m pretty sure that my days of vertical growth spurts are over), that weight is just too high. So, whatever your weight, know it, own it, and either love it or join me and change it.

Relationships, Thought Patterns

That Time Garth and Mick Got It Right

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Years ago, Garth Brooks thanked God for Unanswered Prayers. I’ve often felt the same way even though I don’t believe in unanswered prayers. After all, “no” is an answer.

I’ve told you before that I’m a single mom (acknowledging that “single” is hardly “alone” given my fantastic support network of family and friends). What I didn’t tell you is that I’ve been a single mom since pretty much about three days before I found out I was pregnant with him. That was the night that his father broke up with me. I know you’re probably wondering; so, I’ll go ahead and answer the question: no, I did not get pregnant on purpose. However, I wasn’t all that worried about it, either, since I thought our relationship was solid and had a future. I thought that right up until he came back from a trip and announced that he didn’t want to see me anymore. (I’ve had that happen a few times in my life – been blindsided with a break-up. I guess maybe either I don’t read men as well as I should or I don’t pay close enough attention. Whatever. That’s why I have cats now.)  To be honest, I prayed long and hard that he would love me and want us to be a family. When it didn’t look like that was going to happen, I prayed long and hard that he would want to be a father to our child. That didn’t really happen, either. It was my belief at the time that fatherhood just wasn’t for him at that point in his life. The answer to my prayers was no. I was heartbroken and just plain broken for a very long time.

That was 22 years ago – 22 years of rebuilding a stronger version of my Self, of scratching out a living, of trying to be a good mother, of recovering from various catastrophes and of watching my son grow into an amazing human being. His father and I have spoken on three occasions during those years when I initiated contact – twice for legal reasons and once because my son wanted to know if he had siblings.

To say that I was surprised to see his name in my email list in February is putting it mildly. The failure of that relationship is one of the most painful periods of my life; so, quite honestly, I didn’t know whether to vomit or cry when I saw it….so I did both. Then I put on my big girl panties and read the email. In short, he wanted to try to establish some kind of relationship with my son. I was so overwhelmed that I threw up and cried again before I composed myself enough to make some kind of response, which was that my son is grown and any relationship would have to be his decision, not mine. I forwarded the message to my son and told his father that I hoped that they could work something out.

Now, please understand that although this was the real desire of the more developed part of my brain, the petty, childish part was saying all manner of nasty, hateful things. However, we’ve talked about that part of my personality before and that she spends most of her time getting put in the corner – deservedly so. After forwarding the email, I spoke with my son about his feelings on the matter, my feelings and my opinion on how he should proceed. Since I’ve told my son little about that period of time, he doesn’t carry any of the baggage that prompted the rantings of that troll portion of my personality. To prevent his having baggage borne of my perceptions is precisely why I didn’t tell him anything.

So, the men have been talking since Spring and, in September (on his birthday weekend), my son traveled to Dallas to meet his father for the first time. The Henny Penny Mother was worried that my son would be hurt in some way, although the Practical Mother knew that wouldn’t happen. And it didn’t. By all accounts, they had a really good visit. His stepmother baked my son a birthday cake – a personal touch I thought was really kind. They are defining and creating their relationship as they go on and, you know what? I am truly thrilled. My son had a family he didn’t know; but, that is changing. He will soon be meeting grandparents, an aunt and cousins. His world is widening and, I think, becoming more complete. And you know what else? I am freer, as well.

The universe didn’t come crashing down with the contact that I both feared and craved, and I didn’t revert to the woman I once was. I’m still the strong, independent woman I’ve striven to be – the woman I actually like, the woman I don’t believe I’d be if I’d gotten what I prayed for all those years ago. So, like Garth, I’m thankful for those “unanswered” prayers; and Mick was right – you can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometime you just might find you get what you need.

Food

It’s Really More of a Bundt Cake

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Put carbon molecules under great stress and the pressure will reduce the interstitial spaces in the molecules and in the atoms, squishing the whole thing together so tightly that the once rather soft element becomes that hardest in the world – a diamond. What a beautiful result, right?

Yeah, well, I didn’t have that kind of response to the stresses over the last months.

I’ve heard of people who lose weight during stressful times. They just “can’t eat a thing!” I don’t have that problem. I eat like I’m never going to see food again. What started out as a stress muffin top is now much more like bundt cake overflowing it’s pan. It’s not a pretty sight.

Time and again, I’ve talk to you about starting over and getting my food choices a intake back inline. It seemed like every time I made the decision to get back on the wagon, something would happen to send my stress levels way back up into the red zone. For months now, every time I opened my eyes, that was my first thought, “What can I eat?” Seriously. Now, with the house out of foreclosure and a solid plan to keep it that way, my first thoughts upon waking aren’t about food. Well, they aren’t about food for me, anyway. There is usually some furry thing (generally my cat Lucy) letting me know that a bowl is empty and that this state just cannot continue. They, of course, are all convinced I’m trying to starve them if they can see the bottom of the bowls. Thankfully, I no longer feel this way about myself.

I no longer feel like I’m starving every minute of the day. However, I don’t think for a minute that this means that getting back into the groove of eating only healthful options is going to be easy. I have a refined sugar addiction and I’ve let it have its way for too long. I stopped eating refined sugar yesterday and I did okay for the first day. My body didn’t kick up much of a fuss; however, I believe that it will in the next day or two. By Saturday, I’ll probably be willing to trade a kidney for a Blizzard – even in a flavor I don’t like. On Sunday, I’m headed to a birthday celebration in Memphis where my cousin Faith – an incredible cook and baker – will, no doubt, have made something to tempt me. There will be several diabetics and vegetarians at the gathering; so, maybe there will be some options that won’t kill my nascent efforts. I’ll report or confess next week on that.

At this point, my efforts really are like those of any recovering addict – one day at a time. I can’t focus on the long goal of getting back into my size six clothes. Right now, the goal is to reduce the bundt cake back to a muffin top.

Accountability, Thought Patterns

Atlas, Giles Corey and Me

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My writing these past few months has been spotty, at best, and I’m finally going to come clean as to why. I have been under a phenomenal amount of stress for the last two years; but, the last six months have been particularly bad. And when I talk about stress, please know that I know of what I speak. I’ve been a single mother for nearly 22 years. I’m a Katrina survivor. I was a caregiver when my mother had terminal cancer. I’ve run charter departments at non-scheduled air carriers. I’ve moved more times than I care to count. I’ve buried friends and a parent. I’ve negotiated, authored and executed multi-million dollar deals. I know stress and the last months have been among the most stressful of my life. The last few weeks have been nearly intolerable. Atlas carried the world on his shoulders, but I really felt more like Giles Corey, a Salem man who was pressed to death after being accused of practising witchcraft. One thing after another piled on top of me until I could hardly breathe.

pressing

You see, the bank set a sale date for my house that has been in and out of foreclosure a couple of times. I was facing the very real spectre of homelessness….again. It would have been my third round of it. The first time was just after my mother’s death when I asked for a couple of weeks off from the charter company I worked for. Granted the time off, I was fired when I came to work the next day. My son and I ended up living with my cousin Jeanna and her boys for awhile before moving to New Orleans and finding a job there. The second time was after Katrina when we ended up staying with my father until I found another job. Then we stayed with my friend Kay until we could close on this house.

This time, I would have had to rehome all of my furry children before finding a place for myself. It was bad enough feeling like I’d failed my son as well as myself during rounds one and two; but, I knew people who loved us both and would take us both in. It’s different with pets, though. Not everyone will take them in; so, this time, I felt like I failed six creatures who count on me for everything. I was devastated at the prospect of deserting them and terrified that I would have to surrender them to a shelter that might or might not have to kill them. I’ve never ended up in a cardboard box and I doubt I would have this time, either; but, I couldn’t say what would happen to them. Thank goodness I don’t have to find out.

Because, once again, my father came to the rescue. This time, he did it in 1971.

After my infant brother’s death, my parents had to borrow money to bury him. After all, no one saves for that, right? Babies mean nurseries, not headstones. However, for my parents, the unthinkable was a reality when J.David died at less than 24 hours old. So that he would never have to deal with that financial strain in addition to the trauma of losing a child, my father bought small, $5000 whole life burial policies on both my sister and me. That little policy now has enough cash value to save my home.

During my stint as The Worst Insurance Salesman in the World, I often advised people to purchase at least some of their life insurance in the form of a whole life policy, in spite of what you hear on the radio. There are many reasons and I won’t go into them here; however, I just gave you a solid example of how those policies can be useful during your lifetime, not just after you die. This one saved my home. When I wired the money to my mortgage company on Monday, I was so relieved that I could barely stand. I was too exhausted to even cry from the relief, although I’ve since recovered that ability. Hurray.

Although my modest mortgage is still over half of my base bring-home pay, I’ve put a plan in place to keep me from getting into this situation again. And, perhaps, some day soon, I’ll be able to find a bank that will actually work with me to lower my monthly payments. Until then, I’m going to be getting even more creative to make ends meet.

I’ve spent a great deal of the last couple of days getting really restful sleep for the first time in a long time. My dreams are no longer plagued with monsters, sharks, tornadoes, people chasing me, stabbing me or any of the other horrid things that have frequently led me to fear closing my eyes. For the first time in a long time, I feel guardedly hopeful at my financial future. I feel the stones lifting one by one, allowing me to breathe a little bit.

The air tastes good.