Those Little Steps

Last night I went to my mom's house to let Buddy out since mom had physical therapy and my sister had plans in the evening.  

My dog is officially that creepy old man watching the kids play across the street.  

After some cuddle time, mom got home from therapy.  She's had bad knees that need replacing for a long time.  The orthopedic surgeon she's gone to see so many times for help with pain has told her she needs to get gastric surgery before he would touch even one of her knees because "she'll never lose the weight without it".

She has trouble walking more than absolutely necessary due to her knees, her hips, and just all over pain.  It's hard to ask a woman to exercise when it's painful to make it out to the car.

After my sister had her knee surgery for a tear in her knee and loved the doctor she dragged mom kicking-and-screaming to see him too.  And he is amazing.  He is patient, realistic, and is the least patronizing doctor I've ever met (doesn't hurt he's hot either).

The most surprising thing that he prescribed wasn't new medications, but therapy.  

He believed she could strengthen the muscles in her legs to increase her mobility.  She wasn't just a lost cause.

Mom has been going to therapy for a few weeks now and they have been rough.  She's meeting new muscles every week and has learned to embrace the new soreness after every session.  

She's learning that even at her weight, even with her limited mobility, even with the other doctor writing her off, she is capable.  

And last night after dinner she asked to go on a walk.

And I've never been more proud of my mom.  

She can't move as fast as she wants since her knees and hips still don't want to move the way they should and she was winded before we got to the corner, but I could see something change in her.

When my sister ended up meeting us halfway in our walk (and after Buddy had made best friends with a mud puddle), I thought she might ask for a ride back to the house as she joked she would before.  I wouldn't blame her either since she had already done so much and I didn't want to push her too much.  

But then she walked all the way home.  

And I've never been even more proud of mom.

This woman has always been strong raising two girls alone and putting us through college after my dad passed away [absolutely crazy its been 20 years], but she hasn't believed in her own strength for a long time.  Now, thanks to that doctor who believed she is capable and mom seeing the changes in her own body, she's taking those little steps to get back.

I've been too intimidated to post on Workout Wednesday because these peeps are ah-mazing and would kick my lazy butt across the gym, but I had to remember that everyone begins somewhere.  I may be taking little steps today by just getting moving [albeit slowly], but they are steps in the right direction and that's what counts!

My workouts: 

1 mile everyday (non-negotiable, lazy pants)

JM 30 Day Shred or Kettlebells (every other day)

What's a small [BIG] step you're taking this week?

Emo Eating: Pulling Up the Roots

I have stayed within the same 5-10 pounds since January and I should feel like a big, fat failure.  But I don't.

A year ago I went to a therapist.  I knew there was a clear tie between emotional eating and my past and how I deal with stress, anxiety, fear, loneliness...  I had childhood filled with love, but also loss.  The first time I went to a counselor was in fourth grade.  My father passed away when I was seven, but it wasn't until another classmate lost a parent that I realized how easy it was to lose someone.  My mother couldn't leave my side without me being afraid she wouldn't come back.  I can't remember much from that time besides trying to get out of therapy as quickly as possible so I could make it to softball practice.  My mom tells me there was a time I was even put on anti-depressants at nine.  She was scared to death when she saw how much they changed me and we stopped going to the counselor.

Long before the counselor, back to the memory of the day when I woke up and my house was filled with people and I found my mother on the couch holding her arms out for me, I didn't know what it meant.  When mom said dad was at the hospital and he wasn't coming home I didn't realize it was forever.  I remember crying because mom was and being cradled in her arms.  But then I remember telling her she would feel better if she ate some cereal and watched cartoons with me.

It wasn't until last weekend when I was listening to the Let's Reverse Obesity with John Bukenas podcast with Dr. Nina that I realized what I had learned at such an early age- food is the best distraction in the world.

There's a reason they call it "comfort food".

She talked about how a mother takes care of a newborn.  When the baby cries, what does a mother do?  Does she check for a dirty diaper, check for a fever, or just put a bottle in their mouth without knowing what is bothering them?  In the same way, we learn to soothe ourselves with food instead of checking for a dirty diaper and changing it or taking care of the fever.

How often do we use food to comfort, numb, distract?  Dr. Nina believes that emotional eating is a symptom of another problem.

I have a very blessed life.  I have a stable job, I have a car, I have a place to live, I have family and friends, I have everything I could need.  There is nothing earth-shattering going on in my life that would explain why I'm 300+ pounds and emotionally eating to cope.

There aren't big bad things, but there are enough little stresses, frustrations, times I'm sad, mad, lonely that I've learned are easier to cope with if I eat.  I don't have to look at the real reasons I'm sad, mad, lonely if I can blame them on binge-eating.

It's also about control.  I can control food- it will (most of the time, unless I'm cooking and I make the kitchen explode) taste the same, I know where I can get it, and I know I can make myself miserable when I eat too much when I'm not even hungry.  I am distracting from the pain of being sad or alone with food.  I am changing pain, sadness, disappointment into something self-inflicted.

So back to the two or three sessions with the therapist last year, I remember the long, frustrating and tear-filled sessions telling her about how I can't control the emotional eating and feel helpless, hopeless, depressed.  She tells me that when I feel like eating that I should replace that compulsion with something else, like going to get a pedicure.

Ho, I only have so many toes.

Listening to Dr. Nina, I realized that the therapist was trying to transplant that coping mechanism to something else instead of pulling up the root.  It's similar to how other dieters who struggle with emotional eating might transfer all their frustration and feeling of lack of control to exercise.  For example, they know if they go to the gym and just let all of their frustration out on the elliptical they will feel 10 pounds lighter of stress.  It's a positive way they have learned to cope.

What happens when you break your leg or have a huge project at work and you can't make it to the gym, though?  Chances are the root will still be there waiting to take over like weeds.

If we know we're emotionally eating to distract, numb, comfort...can we just stop?  Ugh, I wish it was that easy.  I don't have access or the funds for an insanely talented psychoanalyst like Dr. Nina, but I can try chipping away what I can.  Maybe finding better, more positive ways to cope while tearing out the weeds is the way to go for now, but just transplanting the problem to another flower bed is not going to fix it forever.

I've been journaling.  

I've been asking myself "am I hungry or am I just _____ (insert sad, mad, glad, etc)".  

I've been tracking those binges and what I felt that I used food to cope/comfort/distract.  It's not an overnight thing, but it's about confronting those emotions that I've been trying to stuff down with food.

Cleaned, did homework, went shopping, etc.  Nothing too exciting here, kids. 

I did find a cute dress at Kohl's for my friend's wedding coming up in July (who plans a wedding in less than three months?  she's cray cray)!  and then she called me this morning and asked me to be in the wedding.  

She is one of my best friends from college so I'm super excited!

...not so excited for fitting into an unflattering bridesmaid dress...eek!

What are ways you've used food to control, comfort, numb, etc your emotions?  

Strapping on My Tool Belt

Do you know Nacho Mama?  She's another one of my awesome discoveries through podcasts.  She's hilarious and one of those people you can listen to talk for hours.

Anyways, she was talking about changing her diet mindset from "weight loss journey" to calling it her "weight loss project".

I know, it's just semantics, but it can make a MACHO MAN-sized difference in how you view and prioritize health and fitness.

"Weight loss journey" is a great phrase.  It encompasses that diet and exercise and the process of weight loss is a journey with bumps and curves in the road (I know I've had A LOT of detours), but that it is something that should continue.  A journey is collection of experiences, stories, friendships, relationships, and learning and growing.

However, for me, I use "journey" as an excuse.  When I hit that bump, I think "it's just part of the journey".  I'll u-turn.  I'll get lost.  I'll ask for directions.  I might even try to hitch-hike.

I don't make getting healthy and fit my priority because it's just part of my journey.  There's always  something, always a reason to take a pit stop.  For me, it can be work, grad school, family events, going out, or even depression.

I like how Margo calls it a "project".  When I think of projects, I think of pulling on my tool belt and getting to work.  It's something that I will put hard work and sweat into.

I have so much work to do in my head to change my relationship with food and emotional eating and journaling is helping me put things down on paper and move on.  I don't sit down and write for hours.  Instead, I pick up my pen whenever the urge hits (like the urge to get up, drive across town, and get McDonald's...I could do it in my sleep).

However, I do not focus on the negative.  If I'm feeling annoyed, stressed, depressed, down, whatever- I let it out but I always finish up with a positive statement.  I'll either write down some awesome that happened that day, something to be thankful for, or a positive statement like "I can lose weight and control what I eat easily" [fake it 'til you make it!].

Most of the time, you know this is how I roll:

[source]

...lately I've been grabbing that journal every time I feel like stabbing someone or myself in the face and I'm feeling more in control of my emotions and food.

Today try:

Write down something positive about yourself.  Is it something awesome you already did this morning [measured out the coffee creamer, already killed it at the gym, etc] or something you really like about yourself?  If you can't think of anything, tell yourself "I may be struggling with [insert whatever you're feeling down about, for me it would be food] now, but I am learning to [insert whatever you will become- for me it's be in control].

Posts I'm planning on writing soon [and hoping to learn more about myself along the way] are "why do I binge", "will I ever feel in control and how do I get there?", "how do I find other ways to 'self-soothe' without food", etc.  I'll keep posting Mondays and Wednesday about where I am and what I've learned along the way.  Holla!

Learning and Letting Go

This week's goal is to journal every day.  Give me a pretty notebook from Target and I'm good to go.

Whenever I start out on a leg of this journey, I am always caught up looking in the rear-view mirror.  Instead of focusing all of my energy in the right place, I am stuck in regret and shame for all the years that I haven't been able to stick to it and make a change.

At what point do you forgive yourself for all the times it didn't work, the times you've surrendered without a fight to the binges, for all the times you've given up?  Or is that just more excuses?

Can I just accept that I wasn't mentally prepared to make it happen yet?

Can I rip off the rear-view mirror and get to work instead of wallowing in regret?  I will take what I can from my past and learn from it, but I will let it go.