Category Archives: Accountability

Self-honesty

Accountability, Exercise, Food

Neatly Bookended

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fireworksOkay, so I had this other piece that I was going to post today.  It was cooking in my brain almost all day yesterday; but, you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to talk about Bobbi-Claire Akins because today, we are celebrating!!!!

Yesterday morning started with a text from a friend that she was in One-derland!  Woohoo!!!!  I don’t know the last time she was there, but I’d say at least seven years or so.  Then came news that a friend in Jackson is continuing to make good choices for herself.  Then came news that my sister, while not losing weight is losing size and feeling better than ever. Then a friend in Nebraska reported that her compression workout gear is getting loose. And, finally, my friend Cindy reported a loss of 16 pounds!  Hurray!!!!!

I talk about weight loss a lot; however, while that was my initial goal two years ago, it’s really a by-product now.  The goal is good health.  The goal is a better functioning body.  The goal is better life for whatever years we live.

My friend in Jackson has gone from drinking two cups of morning coffee, each containing five heaping teaspoons (the serving kind, not the measuring kind) of white sugar to drinking two cups of morning coffee, each containing one heaping teaspoon of turbinado sugar. She’s eating more vegetables, less bread and feeling better than she remembered that she could.

My One-derland friend, my sister, and my friend Cindy are all making better food choices – reducing or eliminating soy, wheat and refined sugar.  My friend in Nebraska is exercising daily.  All of these women are feeling better than they have in a very long time.

Today, I take my hat of to them!  I thank them for sharing their success with me.  What a privilege to get to watch your triumph!!

Well done.  Keep it up and we’ll talk about Bobbi-Claire tomorrow.

Accountability, Exercise, Thought Patterns

What’s Your Job?

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No, really.  What’s your job? Your role? How many of them do you have?  Mother, sister, writer, junior partner, girlfriend, crazy cat lady.  Those are just a few of mine.  Notice a glaring exclusion?  I didn’t until I read this Oprah interview with Michelle Obama.  In talking about working out at 4:30 AM, the First Lady said, “Well, I just started thinking, if I had to get up to go to work, I’d get up and go to work. If I had to get up to take care of my kids, I’d get up to do that. But when it comes to yourself, then it’s suddenly, “Oh, I can’t get up at 4:30.” So I had to change that. ”

That made me think of my most important job, the role absolutely no one else can perform for me…..that of self.

I am the only one of me (stop thanking the saints under your breath.  I can hear you and it’s rude.)  All of the other roles come after the one of mySELF.  If I don’t care for Self, if I don’t exercise and feed my body, if I don’t feed my heart and my soul, who else will?  Who else even can?

Although I couldn’t find the original interview, I found another FLOTUS quote that said, “Women, in particular, need to keep an eye on their physical and mental health, because if we’re scurrying to and from appointments and errands, we don’t have a lot of time to take care of ourselves. We need to do a better job of putting ourselves higher on our own ‘to do’ list.”

I met with Ambrose for a few minutes last week.  He owns a personal training company and is incredibly passionate about helping people motivate themselves to achieve what they had always wanted, but hadn’t really thought possible.  He takes a person’s drive to be better and turns it up to eleven.  As we were talking, I told him about the demands of my job and how I have not found a regular time to hit the gym.  I’m something of a creature of habit and I haven’t been able to form a routine.  But, even as I was saying the words, I heard that FLOTUS quote about changing her thinking in my mind.  I even shared it with Ambrose who was buying none of my excuses anyway. He loved the quote and I felt like a jackass for even trying to float them to start with.

I don’t treat my health like part of my job.  I don’t put myself high enough on my priority list.  I am neglecting mySELF job.  Ten to one says that you are, too.  But, if you’re not, how do you do it? How do you make that time for yourself and keep yourself on task?  How do you change your thinking to excel at yourSELF?

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Accountability, Exercise

525,600 Minutes

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I love going to the theater.  Miss Saigon, Les Mis, West Side Story, Mama Mia, The Producers, Stomp, Annie Get Your Gun, Spamalot, Rent – I’ve seen them in London, on Broadway, in Nashville, Memphis, New Orleans.  In high school, I was in a production of Oklahoma! and I loved that, too.  I sing the songs in my head and outloud, while driving, cooking or whatever. I warn you – although in my head and in my shower, I am all Celine Dion. In your ears, I’m prolly a whole lot more Cameron Diaz (My Best Friend’s Wedding).  Still – top of my lungs, baby.  I sing at the top of my lungs! 🙂

In my dreams last night, for some reason, I sang this one from Rent – 525,600 Minutes.

I really love this piece of music!  That’s what we all have 525,600 minutes.  Every year we live, that’s what we have.  No more, no less and it doesn’t matter who you are.

I grew up with a woman who walks between five and six miles most days.  Mary works at a hospital in Brookhaven and, even when she works until midnight, she gets up, goes to the park and walks.  Such commitment to herself! I see her posts on Facebook and they stay with me.  I don’t know if she walks with anyone or alone.  I don’t know if she has any kind of local support group.  I just see that she makes those walks and that she’s doing it for herself.  In so doing, she actually helped me at the grocery store the other day.

I’m really struggling with cravings for sweets right now.  Walking by a whole rack of Tastykakes (can you believe the gall of the store to just put a whole-great-big rack of those things right out in the open?!), I was wanting to climb right into one of those bags!  Then I thought of Mary.  I thought of her commitment to herself in her walks and in working for better health.

My knee has been giving me a really hard time the last six weeks or so (which is why you haven’t heard me talk about kickboxing in awhile).  It’s getting better; but, it was hurting after just a regular day’s walking.  So, walking on a treadmill was out.  Still, the first 50 pounds of The Big Shrink were just food.  I can still focus on that without the knee having anything to say about it. I can stay committed to myself and stay the course.

52 weeks,  365 days, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes.  How many of those will I use making myself healthier, stronger, kinder, more compassionate, better?  How many will you?

Accountability

Good, Better (When There is No Best)

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I love those “Eat This, Not That” books because, sometimes, it’s not about the Best choice.  Sometimes, Better is all you have.  Well, okay, let’s be honest, sometimes Good  or Least Horrific is all you have!  I say this like it’s not July 5th and you didn’t spend all day yesterday dodging cupcakes whose only real flavor was sweet, high-fat burgers loaded with cheese and bacon, cookies, ice cream and all things sugary, fatty and yummy.

Hard Rock Cafe windowI have a friend who is altering her food attitude, composition and consumption. By that, I mean that she is thinking of food more as a source of fuel, choosing foods that are good sources of energy and eating less of it so as not to fuel more than she needs. Yesterday, she sent me this text: “Forgive me o great Positive Thinker for I have eaten too much! LOL Actually, I ate less than anyone at the table but I am stuffed! 3 short ribs, potato salad, corn salad, small amt of baked beans [too spicy] and homemade vanilla ice cream.”  I received her text just after consuming a Hardee’s mushroom Swiss burger and small onion rings.  She was at a cookout; I was preparing to board a train bound for downtown Nashville.  Which one of us made the better choice?  Ummmmm, since my meal contained just under 1100 calories, prolly not me.

Still, neither of us did irreparable harm.  It was one meal on one day.  The rest of our day was full of good choices.  In addition, our today, tomorrow and tomorrow morrow will be full of good choices.

We have to live.  Eating and feasting together are enjoyable events and we should allow ourselves to enjoy those things….in moderation…unless you’re a monk or it’s Lent or something.  What are we doing if we don’t allow ourselves to experience joy?  Sure, we exercise, lose excess weight and make healthful food choices so that we can live longer, healthier lives; but, if we don’t have joy in those lives, what’s the point?

So, on that note, I say: make the Best choice most of the time and the Least Horrific one all of the time. Live. Love. Laugh. Be joyful.

Now, about that peach ice cream……

Accountability, Thought Patterns

Fencing Fear

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foil fencing-001A recent networking function went like they do: socializing, personal introductions, elevator speeches, target referrals, speaker. Jim, the speaker, had some really interesting points to make about fear which got me thinking further.  (By now you know that I’m prone to that kind of thing – taking an idea and running afield with it.)

In the same industry, Jim and I deal with subjects that are less than warm and fuzzy – a lot less.  We talk with people about loss – loss of life, income, and health – the stuff nobody wants to talk about.  Stuff we are afraid to talk about. Afraid to jinx ourselves by even mentioning misfortune lest we summon up that Boogeyman by uttering his name. Afraid to admit that we don’t understand. Afraid that we are not doing it right. Afraid that someone will tell us to change something. Afraid to find out that we are wrong. And, sometimes, afraid to find out that we are right.

We all fear things: failure, success, spiders, change, vulnerability, loss, ridicule, orange food. Okay, that last one may just be Billy Bob Thornton, but the rest of our fears are fairly universal.  We can’t let them dictate our lives; but, that’s a struggle.

I started this blog to talk about losing weight acquired during The Great Regain.  As it happened, I started a new job at the same time and, frankly, the weight loss is not going so great.  I’m terrified that I’m going to gain it all back and fail publicly.  I’m terrified that I’m going to gain it all back and disappoint myself and my son. I’m terrified that I’m going to gain it all back and fail all of you who have been so complimentary and supportive.  I’m terrified that I’m going to gain it all back.  Period.

It seems that every day I start with new resolve and, every day, I let myself get sidetracked by something – muffins at a coffee appointment, M&Ms for lunch, no energy for the gym.  I know what the answers are here.  I’ve done it.  Schedule time for exercise and stick with it. Make your meals beforehand. Fill three-quarters of the plate with vegetables. Plan. Plan. Plan.

Exercise plan. Meal plan. Game plan. Battle plan.  I have to develop and adhere to all four to combat and defeat my fear of losing more ground. I have to go on the offensive to regain the ground I’ve lost. I’ve got to remember that I’m the only one who can do it and that I cannot let up until I’ve reached my goal.

En guarde, y’all!

Accountability, Habits, Thought Patterns

Apathy Isn’t a City in Greece

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Looking back at this week’s posts, you can see that a certain joy is lacking – or at least I can.  This week has been a tough one for me, internally.  I’ve had some things come up that have been major stressors and I would love to tell you that I arose victorious over them, celery stick in hand, running shoes on feet.  Yeah, well, except that didn’t happen.  For breakfast one morning, I had brownie batter.  That’s right, batter. I didn’t even cook it.  I was jonesing for the chocolate so bad, it’s really a wonder that I even put the water, eggs and oil in the mix.

Parthenon at Centennial ParkThe cobwebs of last week’s negativity are still clinging to me a bit and I’m behind in my work.  In this new career, if you get behind a little, you get behind a lot.  I can make it up since I believe in the value proposition of what I do; however, next week, I’m going to have to run three times as fast. I know that I have all that work to look forward to and I know that there is no one to blame but myself.  Don’t you just hate that?!  When you want to get your mad on at someone, but the only person who really deserves it is yourself?

I haven’t cared enough to fight, that’s my real crime.  We talk about it all the time – we fight cravings, we fight laziness, we fight poor decisions.  We do all of these things because we are fighting for ourselves.  I didn’t do that this week.  I let the tide of apathy wash over me carrying with it reruns of NCIS and brownie batter when I should have been fighting that tide with walks and tri-colored carrots.

No, Apathy isn’t a city in Greece and it’s not a cataclysmic force, either.  It is a slowly rising tide – the one that rises so slowly, you don’t realize you’re in over your head until you actually are.  Apathy creeps up on us.  It steals into our diets one snack at a time and into our wardrobes with larger sizes and elastic waists. Apathy is the root of more failure than any other factor and we don’t even notice it.  We have to notice it, though.  We have to remember the end goal and keep working towards it.

I failed this week in a big way; however, because I know that denial isn’t a river in Egypt (Oh, c’mon! Don’t act like you didn’t know that was coming), I have to own these failures, forgive myself for them, and move on.

Accountability, Exercise, Food, Habits, Thought Patterns

Satan Invented Sweats, Yoga Pants and Stretch Denim

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..and in related news: Tennessee woman buried in clothing avalanche, sizes 6 to 20.

We all know better.  We know that it is physique awareness suicide to wear stretchy pants more than three days running.  After that, you might as well wrap yourself in an elastic muumuu and call it a day.  It is over. So, during my unemployment/knee recovery/eat-a-thon, I stayed away from the sweats and the yoga pants like I should.  I kept on slipping into my blue jeans, thinking that they were an accurate gauge of size during the time which shall be known henceforth as The Great Regain.  Pah!  More the fool me, right?! (Say “yes.”) My trusty denims weren’t denims at all, but were STRETCH denim.  (Gasp in horror.)

messy-closetI’ve heard Oprah say that she has every size in her closet from eight to elastic.  Mine was the same, making my room look more and more like an episode of Hoarders.  That kind of clutter has a deleterious effect on my mood; so, this weekend, I tackled it.  I had a box for clothes to give away, one for winter clothes to go into storage, and one for adorable summer clothes from last year that are a little bit too small.  Actually, I had two of those and some of those clothes are a lot too small.

I tried most everything on until I started berating myself for gaining weight back. The head trash wasn’t doing me any good; so, I adjusted to keep from generating any more of it by not trying on any more, just guesstimating the rest.  I divided the clothes that didn’t fit into two piles – the ten pound pile and the twenty pound pile.  Some things should fit me nicely in ten pounds, others will have to wait twenty.  Regardless, they are all going to have to wait and, in the meantime, I have to be able to breathe; so, they cannot be hanging in my closet looking at me accusingly day after day.  pile of clothesNobody needs that kind of attitude, not even from natural fibers.

The bad news is that I do have clothes that don’t fit.  The good news is that I conquered head trash generation while sorting them and I’m working on getting back into them in a calculated and orderly way:

  1. I have committed to walk 25 miles each week from now until 8.31.13 for the 501st Support Battalion 300 mile challenge.
  2. I have only good, nutrient-rich food in my refrigerator and a menu planned out for the week.
  3. I have a support system in person, on Facebook and here to keep me honest and on track.

Exercise, diet and support – the three keys and they’re all right there.  By the end of June, I’ll be into the clothes in the Ten Pound Box and by the end of July, I’ll be in the Twenty Pound Box.  I just have to keep my eye on the prize, my head in the game, and my rear out of Satan’s fabrics.

Accountability, Thought Patterns

No, Muffin Top Is Not a Friend of Strawberry Shortcake

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When I was growing up, people got Dunlap Disease – when the spare tire around their middle had Dun Lapped over their belts.  Now, people have muffin tops.  How cutsey!  Right?

Wrong.

strawberryshortcakeYou and I have been together for a couple of months now and, friend, I’m going to tell you the truth – a muffin top looks like just what it is: an inner tube of fat right around the waist.  It’s not cute.  It’s not fashionable.  It’s abdominal fat.  Abdominal fat leads to abdominal obesity and that, my friends, is Trouble with a capital T.

Abdominal obesity has been linked to increased rates of Type II diabetes, cardiovascular disease and Alzheimer’s disease.  The implications there are far too serious to refer to their cause as something as innocuous as Muffin Top. That’s like calling John Wayne Gacy “Johnny Giggles.” It just doesn’t fit.

Abdominal obesity can kill you or (perhaps even worse) keep you alive but incapacitated, debilitated and even a burden on your family.  Think about that for a second.  I don’t know anyone who truly has the goal of being the center of their family’s life.  Maybe there are people out there who want every person thinking about them all day, every day.  Maybe they do want to be a duty, a burden, a millstone around someone else’s neck.  They may be out there, but, because you’re reading this, I’m fairly confident that you aren’t one of them.

On 24 July, when my nurse practitioner broke through my weight delusions, I asked myself if I wanted to meet my grandchildren.  That’s a real question.  I’m in my mid-forties and I don’t anticipate becoming a grandmother in the next several years; so, I had to ask myself if I planned to be around by the time they got here.  Or, will my son have to tell them about me?  Will he have to tell them what kind of person I was because I died too young of a heart attack brought on by my own refusal to push away the french fries?  Really?  How stupid is that?  How embarrassing! How utterly tragic.

Or what if my unhealthy food choices and poor exercise habits lead to a debilitating stroke?  What if he never has children because he has to spend his adult life taking care of me? In that scenario, he is forced to give up a promising life of his own to take care of me when I was too selfish to take care of my own self.

I realized on that day that neither of those eventualities interests me.  I want to be healthy and active well into my 80s.  I want to be the grandmother that rides bikes, gardens, rock climbs, rides roller coasters, reads bedtime stories and cooks all kinds of weird vegetables.  I want to be around to meet those children.  I want to pass on the knowledge that I’ve gained and learn things anew by looking through their eyes.

Maybe I won’t be around.  Maybe I won’t meet them no matter what lifestyle choices I make.  However, I’m going to work on stacking the odds in my favor (remember? I’m the House).  If I don’t meet them, it won’t be because I let Muffin Top have a say in it.

Accountability, Exercise, Habits, Thought Patterns

I’m No Rocket Scientist, But I Know When to Fire a Thruster

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Minute course corrections.  You see it in any space movie.  The astronauts fire thrusters for various lengths of time to roll the vessel, propel it a little, get out of the way of something, or for some other mysterious and dramatic reason.  As I was walking the dogs on Sunday, I saw how I have to make those same minute corrections and calculations all the time.

mars_landerThe first thruster I fired was a pretty big one.  It got me out of my chair and putting on my running shoes.  I had to fire it for several seconds there to overcome the inertia of the large stationary object that was Me. I had to fire again when I was wavering between going to the gym and going to the park.  You see, it’s easy to stop walking on a treadmill; but, when you’re at the park, you have to walk back to the car.  You can’t just stop mid-lap.  Once at the park, additional firings were required to stay on course for the five mile (four times around the outer track) walk.  My internal conversation included whining about my calves, whining about needing to use the restroom, whining about the impending rain, and even whining about needing a trash can to throw my gum into.  There was so much whining going on, you’d have sworn it was a Seinfeld episode.

The stone truth of all of this is: I am bone lazy.  I would rather lay on the couch and watch movies than go work out.  I would rather eat ice cream and cheese puffs than cucumbers and hummus.  I have unhealthy circuits in my mind.  Those circuits were reinforced over the better part of 45 years.  I would love to tell you that (mostly) two years of conscious effort to change the circuits has successfully rewired them.  That would be a complete lie.

I have to revamp the circuitry with nearly every decision.  The good news is that I can do it – that there is hope and that success is possible.  It does it get easier with continued diligence and I am hopeful that eventually, I will be able to make those corrections effortlessly and perhaps even unconsciously.

I trust that as I monitor my systems and stay the course, eventually, the thrusters will fire on their own.