Fat as Hell…

Listen to this…

Perfectionism may seem like a desirable trait, but to boost your health, aim for “just enough.” “Trying to do everything right promotes an all-or-nothing attitude,” says Martin Binks, PhD, a psychologist at the Duke Diet and Fitness Center in Durham, NC. So if you can’t do something perfectly (i.e., work out an hour a day), you don’t do anything at all (i.e., watch TV instead).

And this…

A better mindset: Believe that every little bit counts. “It’s small changes that are most effective,” Binks says. So forget perfect!

Gosh. This really hits home for me. Though I would never label myself as a perfectionist, I can definitely remember numerous instances wherein my attitude has fallen into the “all-or-nothing” category. Although it seems silly, I frequently find myself thinking things like, “well, it’s too late to exercise for a full hour, so what’s the point?” or “If I’m not going to walk my full 3 mile route, then why bother walking at all?”

I’m telling you, this kind of stuff is hard to admit, because frankly, it sounds like the rantings of a complete lunatic, but if I’m going to be completely honest then I have to tell you that I also play these kinds of games with food. Let’s say, for example, that on my way to work I inexplicably find myself at Starbucks sucking down an iced venti no whip white mocha (which happens more frequently than I care to admit)… often, later in the day, I will use that slip up as an excuse to NOT make the right choices AGAIN: “Well, I already drank about 500 calories this morning, so I might as well eat this brownie, right?” I fall into the “all-or-nothing” mentality, adopting a “what’s the point?” attitude as though one (albeit big) slip-up has ruined the entire day.

And here’s the thing, that kind of defeatism is not only unhealthy, but it’s also really, really stupid.

And what’s more, I realize it’s just an excuse, an easy way for me to bargain my way out of having to exercise or eat right at all, but man, I don’t think I really realized how much I did that until I read this article in which the authors outline what they call the Good Enough Guide to Healthy Living. In each category they identify the “gold standard,” or the things that we would all do every day in a perfect world… but then they go onto to discuss what they term “good enough” goals *and* the significant health benefits that can result from even making small changes in your life.

The exercise one was a biggie for me, but there’s something to be learned, I feel, from their suggestions in all of the categories.

That said, I think part of my problem lately has been that I started expecting way too much of myself. I had a few kick-ass months, ate right, exercised frequently and took off more weight than I ever thought possible, but it was wrong to expect that kind of performance, and thus those kinds of results, from myself all of the time. Even though I didn’t see it at the time, it’s clear to me now that I set my goals a little too high and when I found myself in a position where I couldn’t achieve them, I just threw my hands up in the air and said “why bother?”

*sigh*

You know, so many of my favorite weight-loss bloggers have been quiet lately, and I have to tell you that I’m worried that they too are adrift in a high calorie, low self-esteem sea. To that end, a long time ago, Krissie wrote a post that I’ve actually quoted several times now. In it she said…

I am a new person most of the time. And that’s good enough. I’m never going to be perfect. But I can be healthy repeatedly, and let that crowd out my mistakes.

I know she gets tired of me quoting her all of the time, but I think there’s a lot of wisdom in those words. Furthermore, I think that if we all cut ourselves a little slack now and then, we’d probably all be far better off.

So… however I go about getting back in the swing of things *this* time, I know one thing for sure. I’m going to really, really try to not allow myself to fall into the trap of “all-or-nothing.” Like Krissie, I too am a new person *most* of the time. And, I bet if you think about it, you are too. None of us are going to be perfect all of the time. But we *can* do the right thing repeatedly. And the thing I’m starting to realize is… that really *is* good enough.

Ok. As Kai Ryssdal from Marketplace would say, “let’s do the numbers….”

The last couple of days have been busy, but good. The number of steps I’ve been getting at work each day seems to be dwindling a bit, but that’s just meant that I’ve had to move my ass a little more in the evenings to make up the difference. Of course, I say that so flippantly, as though heading out after dinner in search of 6,000+ more steps is no big deal. (Especially on a Thursday when you’re just plain tired and want nothing more than to go to bed by 7:00pm and cement, once and for all, your status as a senior citizen).

In this way, the pedometer challenge has been such a good thing for me. I’ll tell you, on Thursday, after dinner when my number was just barely touching 4,000 steps, I’d all but decided that I was just going to chalk it off to a “bad day,” post my picture and go to bed… but there’s something about that little plastic box… staring up at you, daring you to take just one more step, and then another and another. Finally, I gave in and went for a walk, convinced that while I might only bump it up a thousand or so more steps, that at least *that* was better than nothing. But in the end I just kept walking until finally I’d topped that magic 10k number. Gosh it felt good.

This coupled with John’s recent post on the subject has gotten me thinking about inspiration. I read a lot of weight loss blogs and I see people talking about the things that inspire them. And it’s interesting to me, because (like John) I often find that I am *not* inspired by what other people find incredibly motivating. I’m not all that interested in having my body look like what the media holds up as beautiful, I don’t have a “vision board” filled with pictures of slender girls in the hopes that one day I’ll look like them. I don’t draw incredible inspiration from television shows like the Biggest Loser and I don’t read diet books filled with the inspirational stories of those who have already lost all of their weight and want to pass on their secrets to the rest of us chubbies. Sometimes those things can be interesting, but none of them make me want to jog 10 miles or gnaw on a celery stalk.

Rather, for me, I think a lot of what inspires me is the challenge of all of this. It’s important to note here that I’m *not* talking about competition. This isn’t a race and nobody gets a gold medal at the end. This is, however, a challenge — a fight — a struggle. And what’s more, it’s one in which every last one of us is the underdog. The odds are stacked against us, folks. Hundreds or thousands of people “go on diets” every day and the vast majority of them throw in the towel, or lose the weight, only to gain it back. And as strange as that may seem, in some ways, I draw a great deal of inspiration from knowing that I’m the “long shot” in all of this. I love the notion of beating the odds, of throwing a monkey wrench in the statistic, and especially of proving all those people who say it can’t be done, wrong.

Like most fat people, I was fat for a long, long, (long) time before I finally decided that it was time to do something about it. It wasn’t like I was living in a funhouse where every mirror was distorted such that, even at 300+ pounds, I always appeared willowy and svelte. No. I knew I was fat. And I wanted to lose weight, sure. But for years and years I went about my business simply not caring enough about it, or perhaps myself, to actually do something that would facilitate taking off the pounds. So what changed?

People started giving up on me.

I know I’ve told the story here before about the fateful doctor’s appointment wherein my health care professional said a) you’re going to die and b) you have start taking medication to keep from dying because c) you’ll never lose enough weight to keep from dying on your own. I can still remember going home that afternoon so pissed off. Pissed at everyone and everything: the doctor, myself, my mother (why not??) and feeling like I’d been dealt a terrible injustice. Then, to make matters worse, when I got home I told my husband about the whole story and even though he tried to be supportive, I could see that he too believed that the doctor was right… that I was too far gone.

That was the turning point for me.

That was when I knew I had to do something. And yes, a huge part of it had to do with not wanting to die, but I’m not ashamed to admit that a massive amount of my inspiration came from wanting to prove everyone wrong. How dare they give up on me??? At the time, I felt betrayed and abandoned. But now I’m so thankful that I hit that low… because if I hadn’t, I’d have never felt the need to start climbing my way back up.

My husband (and mother, by the way) are fond of telling me that I am probably the most stubborn person that they know. And perhaps stubbornness isn’t the attribute that I sometimes like to think it is… but in this case, I think my stubborn streak may deserve at least some of the credit for saving my life. I don’t know where the rest of you draw your inspiration, (though I wouldn’t mind hearing about it), but I know that for me, a great deal of my motivation comes from my desire to always do and be a bit of the unexpected.

And perhaps that’s why this pedometer challenge has been such a good thing for me. Right now, I’m so determined to get those 10,000 steps in each day that I’ll do just about anything to make it there… including move on nights when I might have otherwise decided that it was ok to take the night off. And again, it’s not about winning, per say, it’s more about wiping that smug look of my pedometer’s face when the sun’s going down and I’m only at 5,000 steps. It’s about knowing that someone in my physical condition isn’t supposed to be able to move quite this much. It’s about proving that I *can* do it… especially to those who said I couldn’t.

Anyway, here’s Friday’s number, folks. And with that I’m off to start my Saturday.

I’ve decided to participate in Fatbridemaid’s Pedometer Challenge mostly because it sounded like fun, but also because I got a pedometer for Christmas which has been collecting dust in the bottom of a drawer ever since. The challenge doesn’t officially start until tomorrow, but she’s counting steps before then just to get everybody all pumped up. That said, all week long, I’ve been trying to figure out my pedometer which, apparently, takes a phd to operate. Seriously, I may not be an official Mensa member, but I’m no slouch either and this little plastic gadget has me bested.

Luckily, I was talking to someone at work about it this week and on Friday she brought me another pedometer to borrow for awhile. Luckily, this one is fabulous. Easy, sturdy and, as far as I can tell, accurate. (I did some test walks to see if it measured the correct steps and it only missed once and only by one step). So now I get to play along! :)

To that end, today was a *big* walking day for me. My husband and I got up early this morning and headed downtown to our local farmer’s market. It was a gorgeous day with lots of sunshine. Warm and with just a taste of the hot and humid summer that we are no doubt in store for. It just so happened that there was also a classic car show set up across many city blocks near the market, so we also tooled up and down the promenade several times looking at the handy work of people who clearly dedicate much of their lives to restoring these vehicles.

Anyway, later, we walked the 1.5 mile “nature trail” near our house, but when we got back to the house I realized that it just wasn’t enough. I’d barely broken a sweat… as though *that* walk was just the warm up… so I headed out and kept walking until I’d put in *another* 3.5 miles.

Of course, now I’m sore and sleepy, but I also have to marvel (just a little) at how far I’ve come. Six months ago, I had to push and push myself to walk even a mile. And I hated every second of it. But tonight I wanted *more* exercise. I *needed* more. And, like icing on the proverbial cake, my additional jaunt this evening took me over the 10,000 step mark for the day.

12, 966 steps to be exact.

I mean, I have no idea how many steps other people are taking in a day, but to me this feels like it’s crazy good. In fact, I’m sure that I won’t get anywhere near this on most days… simply because, well, I don’t think I walk over 5 miles on an average day. But today I did. Go me!

~~~~~~~~~~

You know, all of this weight loss + exercise business is still pretty new to me.

I got to thinking the other day about how little I really know about how to eat and move my body in ways that are truly healthy. I’m a complete and utter novice at this and, frankly, I think I’m fumbling around in the dark most of the time. I read other blogs and I’m, literally, stunned by how together so many of you all seem. I read your food journals and the stories you share about your goals, plans and successes and it all leaves me hoping that *someday* I’ll be in that place too.

But I’m not there yet. I still find myself *wanting* the food I shouldn’t have or the kind of life where I can just sit on my butt and not worry about things like heart disease and cellulite. And, I don’t know, maybe it will never become second nature to me. Maybe I’ll always have to fight my first instincts. All I know for sure is that if I really am going to make the kind of changes to my life that are required for permanent weight loss then those changes have to be permanent too. I won’t magically wake up one day and not have to think about what I put in my body and how I treat it. I’ll always have to think about it. I’ll always be fighting this battle.

And let’s face it. That kind of sucks.

But the thing is, on nights like tonight when something inside me clicks and I find myself *wanting* to do the right thing. When I’m faced with a choice between living healthily and just living *and* the first one is actually preferable. Those are nights when I truly think that I just might be able to do this.

Of course, tomorrow I’ll probably eat something that will cause Paola to give me a virtual bollocking, but for tonight, I feel like I might actually be “getting there” — 12,966 steps at a time. :)