Make This Year's New Year's Resolution Last

It's been six months since Body Baggage for Misfits started meeting in East Nashville.  Six months gone.  Six months we can't live over again.  So my question to the group at our last meeting of the year was, "Are you happy with how you felt during these last six months? Are you happy with your body and your state of mind?"

If so, don't change a thing.  If not, please consider that there is a very real possibility that you will feel the very same way six months or even six years from now - or worse because you never did anything to change it.

Each day you don't feel good or strong or healthy is another day gone.  If nothing changes, the days and years keep passing by and eventually you've lost a decade or more feeling shitty about your body, addicted to sugar, mildly depressed, 10 or 100 lbs overweight, tired or sluggish or whatever it is that's bringing you down.

Even if your job sucks or you are lonely or in a bad relationship, you can do something to feel better each day, something as small as taking a walk around the block before work or stopping for 5 minutes to breathe and stretch before bed.  You have the power to make good with your body and to feel at peace in your skin.  At the very least, you have the power to feel a little bit better than you do today.  It's not even about losing weight.  It's about taking care.

New Years is an arbitrary thing.  It's another night and another day.  In fact, every day is an opportunity for a fresh start, but there is something magical about a new year.  Psychologically, the new year seems to allow space for change, but so often we shoot too high, too big.  What if your New Year's resolution is simply to take better care this year, body and soul?  Set a goal for the month of January that is easily attainable... an apple a day, a phone call to Grandma once a week, 20 sit ups before bed.  And then add another one for February.

These six months are gone.  Twelve months of 2012 have passed.  So where are you?  Are you good?  If not, do something.  Anything.  Just make it small.  And when that new thing becomes second nature, do something else.  Do better.  Take better care.  Opportunities abound.

This is a picture of last night's sunset in Los Angeles.  Maybe my New Year's resolution should be to breathe like I do when I'm back in California, to keep looking up and out every day.

Give It A Break and Happy New Year

I started writing several useful blog posts recently, but I don't feel like finishing them.  They are full of ideas about how to get healthy, but I don't feel like being full of ideas right now.  I feel like being silent as the end of the year approaches.  Breathing and waiting, listening and watching.  Sometimes, it would seem, there is more to be accomplished by not trying so hard to get a handle on everything.  Sometimes it's best to sit back and let the world spin around without attempting interference.

It's the holidays.  It's time to be with people, time to rest and to be amazed by another year gone by and the unknown of the coming year.  There will be time in January for reframing, for how-to-ing and steady stepping in the right direction.

For now - for this year - I am thankful for new friends, new music, new words, and a new puppy, for a healthy son, for managing to get my body back post-pregnancy, for babysitters who keep me sane, and for a perpetually young husband whose inspiration is music, me, and the little man... and a new pair of bright red Vans.

I'm going to stop accomplishing things now.  I'm going to bask in the madness and glow of yesteryear.  I'm going to California to look at the city lights.

Signing off.

Happy New Year!!

Avoiding A Big Fat Thanksgiving Day Binge

Here we go.  Here come the holidays.  Winter is oozing up under my skin and into my psyche.  I'm suddenly hungry and grumpy for no reason, and my clients are too.  Thanksgiving is next week.  It's a beautiful thing to be with friends and family and give thanks, blah-di-blah.  Yes, it's a good thing, but it's also stressful and a big, fat excuse to binge on Thursday, Friday, and however many more days it takes to plow through the left overs.  Then come Christmas, Hanukkah, New Year's, and football season.  Cookies, cocktails, and cheese wheels appear out of nowhere, but it's okay to indulge, right?!  It's the holidays!!!  Wheeeeeee!

No.  Not okay.  Mostly because you'll feel like ass the next day or the next week, and you'll definitely feel like ass when the sun comes up on New Year's day and you weigh seven pounds more than you did the day before Thanksgiving.

Why do we take beautiful, celebratory moments and turn them into excuses to abuse our bodies? Why would we want to make a warm occasion sad and uncomfortable by stuffing ourselves until our insides ache?

This year, I am going to be thankful for a body that treats me pretty well most of the time, and I'm going to do my best to treat it well right back.  I'll savor the dishes that bring me back to my childhood, but I won't eat so much that it makes me feel old.  That's my big plan... eat it all but not too much, take a walk, and take a minute to look around at the people I came to see.  It's about us, not about the food.

Now I just have to remember that - when a second, giant serving of buttery mashed potatoes is calling my name.  Mmmmm.

It Matters

The east coast just got clobbered by a massive storm.
My Grandma's beloved kitty, Lydia, died today.
We have a painfully important election next week.

It matters.

I'm feeling philosophical as a year has passed since Elvin disappeared, my baby boy is turning one, the city I lived in and still have many friends living in is under water, a president I adore is fighting for his political life and my family's right to see a doctor, and winter is closing in.  I have to ask myself what matters, and I have to ask my clients what matters to them.

Does weight loss matter?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  If it's a quality of life issue, do something about it.  Fight like hell to make a change because it matters to you.  Don't wait until New Year's Eve, and don't set goals that are so big they are destined to fail.  Do something small.

Take a walk.
Take care of your friends and neighbors.
Love your pets.
Vote.

It matters.

"Be Healthy" - From Your Friends at Groupon

I just got an email from Groupon entitled "Be Healthy".  The deals listed are as follows:

Botox

Laser Photofacials

Lipotropic Weight-loss Injections

Body Contouring Treatments

Microdermabrasion

Facials

Not an exercise or nutrition deal among them.  And WTF are "lipotropic weight-loss injections"?!  If this is what people think constitutes healthy living, we have bigger problems than I thought.  Happy Friday from Groupon!  Now go get your face scraped off.

A Birthday Without Cupcakes?!

Today is my birthday, and for the first time I can remember, the festivities aren't all wrapped up in food.  It's a strange feeling, almost annoying.

In birthdays past, I would have used the entire day as a giant excuse to gorge myself.  I have had a long-standing tradition of eating Long John Silvers for lunch on my birthday.  It was reminiscent of childhood memories of driving to Grandma's house in Virginia and stopping at LJS as a special treat.  I always ordered the two-piece fish and chips with a double order of hush puppies and drenched the whole thing in ketchup.  Then, of course, Ken would get me some cupcakes from Cupcake Collection to munch on for a couple of days, and we would go out for a fancy dinner with wine and some kind of decadent, molten chocolate dessert.  I could easily have eaten 6000 calories in one day, all in the name of "celebration".

I've been off of wheat now for ten months, and the few times I have indulged have led to nausea, bloating, and mild depression.  Of course, not eating wheat rules out fried fish, hushpuppies, and cupcakes, but the strange thing is that I woke up this morning and didn't want any of those things.  It kind of pissed me off because I would have happily broken my own rule for my birthday.  But I want to feel good today.  I don't want to feel sick and bloated.  It's a shift, and I'm not sure what to make of it.

I guess I'll just spend the day celebrating the 36 years I've been on the planet, the friends and family who make life entertaining and worth while, my amazing husband and baby boy, and the mini pit bull who likes to sleep on my feet.

I'd rather feel good than eat cupcakes, and that's some kind of sick, twisted logic.  I'll let you know when the aliens return me to my right mind.

We Are Getting Fatter. Anybody Give a Damn?

44% of Americans will be obese by 2030

63% of Tennesseans will be obese by 2030

  (Study by Trust for America's Health and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation*)

This is not a joke.  Something has got to give.  Clearly the diet and fitness industry is not doing its job.  In fact, it would seem that the more diets we go on, the more fitness crazes we try out, the more school gym classes we cancel, the more cheap convenience food we eat... the higher the obesity rate climbs.

We need to walk more, go outside more, eat more food that doesn't come in a bag or a box, build playgrounds, and fund our schools' food and athletics programs.  It's about small daily changes.  That is the ONLY way this trend is going to reverse itself.  We have to do an about face and start moving in the right direction.  There are no quick fixes. There. Are. No. Quick. Fixes.

"There are no magic solutions.  Our belief in magic

solutions that may happen some day in the future

keeps us from doing what we really need to do 

right here and right now."

                                                   - Brad Warner - Zen Monk, Writer, Bass Player

* http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/09/18/us-obesity-2030-americans-obese_n_1893578.html#slide=1537757

Water for Sky

My little man, Sky, recently started drinking water from a sippy cup.

I would have expected this to be a really small thing, but for his unsuspecting, uninitiated mom, this has been the biggest of things.

When I want to give my son clean water, I walk over to the filter in the door of my refrigerator, press a cup against a lever, screw on the sippy top, and help him as he learns to tip it back to drink.  His pleasure is palpable, and the satisfaction I feel as I watch him swallow and then blissfully gasp for air seems to harken back to some sort of ancient survival instinct.  It's elemental.

I cannot imagine living in a circumstance where I do not have access to clean water for my baby boy.  I'm not sure if I was insensitive before or just dull, but every time I give Sky his sippy cup, my awareness of people who go without is sharpened.

Hurricane Isaac ripped through Haiti this weekend pounding the same population that endured the earthquake two years ago.  I don't usually do this, but if you have five bucks or ten, a few organizations who are helping get clean water to people who need it are:

UNICEF

Charity : Water

The Water Project

If You Are Stuck - Banish Your Trigger Food

It’s an old and infuriating story.  You are trying to lose weight.  It seems like you have always been trying to lose weight.  You’ve been trying for a year or five years or three decades.  You are bored to tears of your own internal monologue rambling on over-and-over again, “Someday, somehow I’ll lose the weight.”  

Something isn't adding up.  You are exhausted by your efforts, and one of the following statements may be true:

A. You are stuck and always have been stuck

B. You lost some weight but now you are definitely stuck

C. You are killing yourself at the gym and are still very, very stuck

If the fat you are trying to lose is actually fat and not just skin that you are irrationally fixating on… if you are carrying an extra 10 pounds or more… if you are getting exercise on an almost-daily basis… if you are doing everything right and you still can’t lose weight, it’s your diet. 

It is almost impossible to maintain weight loss without exercise, but it is even more impossible to lose weight in the first place without changing your eating habits for the better.  Unfortunately, trying to transform your whole diet, measuring every meal - calories in vs. calories out - can be both daunting and confusing.  Pause, take a breath, and consider whether you are truly prepared to make a tangible change in order to impact your body positively.  If you are, consider leaving the bulk of your diet alone and taking a simpler tactic.

It is much easier to choose one unhealthy ingredient and cut it out entirely than it is to overhaul your whole diet.  Find the thing that you know sets you off and sends you careening down the rabbit hole of a late-night binge.  Find it and banish it.  If you can do it for two weeks, you will lose weight.  If you can do it for three months, you will keep the weight off and begin to wonder why you were so married to it in the first place.  You are looking for your trigger food. 

Here are a few common culprits to consider:

1.  Sugar – This is the demon that haunts you in the night.  It is the number one trigger for most women.  We know it, and we love it.  It’s everywhere, and you can cut it out to varying degrees.  First option: simply stop eating dessert.  For some people, this is enough, but if you want to go further, look for added sugar in cereal, salad dressing, juice, bread, and just about everything else that comes in a bag, box, or bottle.  Seek it out and shut it down.

* Soda, sweetened tea, energy drinks, and other sugared beverages, of course, fall under this category too.  If you drink these everyday and stop cold turkey, you’ll cut thousands of calories a week from your diet.

2.  Wheat – Go gluten-free or at least wheat-free.  This will automatically remove from your diet the following: bread, crackers, pasta, cookies, cake, brownies, Twix bars… did I say that out loud?  Yes, Twix bars.  I have a problem.  Give me sugar and wheat flour mixed together (ex. cake and cookies), and I am powerless, howling at the moon for another, and another.

* You can always find rice bread or rice pasta, but they are not nearly as available or as tempting.  It’s unlikely you would eat them frequently enough to replace all of the calories lost by cutting out wheat.  I’m not talking about a low-carb diet.  There are many healthy carbs in the world, but wheat flour is so prevalent that cutting it out almost guarantees weight loss success.

3.  Alcohol – Sadly, alcohol has lots of calories, lots of empty, pointless calories.  Most of my clients have no interest in quitting drinking, so another, less extreme option is to go alcohol-free during the week, Sunday through Thursday nights.  If that means you are skipping one drink per night, five nights per week, you’ll create a calorie-deficit of 1000 calories per week.  You’d lose a pound in three to four weeks.  Also, alcohol tends to lower your resolve for cutting other things out (like fat and sugar), so if you avoid the alcohol, you might do a better job turning down the other crack-like substances in your life.

Other culprits include fried food, cheese, smoothies, and chips.  Any food that is dense with calories – sugar, fat, or salt - that you eat a lot of on a regular basis is a great place to start, especially if it is a food that triggers you to eat even more.

I speak from experience.  I have been stuck for years at a time.  I have worked out consistently, watched my diet and wondered how I would ever break through.  Finally, I cut out wheat and got incredible results.  Then I hit another plateau and had to decide if I was happy there or if I wanted to take it a step further.  I was still eating dark chocolate and miniature York peppermint patties every day (no wheat, damn it!).  I cut out the sweets and, within a week, went sailing past that very stubborn plateau with very little effort.  Since then, I have been able to put dark chocolate back in my diet without regaining any weight.

After avoiding wheat for months and sugar for several weeks, I went on a trip and ate bread and dessert again.  I couldn’t believe how awful I felt.  I’m talking nausea and headaches, lethargy and depression.  I knew these foods were addictive before I quit, but I didn’t realize how much they were dragging me down.

I still crave brownies after dinner.  I don’t know if that will ever go away, but I have found that if I can get through an hour without giving in, I can make it through the night.  If I really need something sweet, usually applesauce, grapes, or a small square of dark chocolate will do the trick.  I might be grumpy about it in the moment, but the payoff is priceless.

If you are stuck and unhappy, be honest with yourself.  Find the one food that is most problematic in your diet, cut it out for one month, and watch what happens.  At the very least, you will learn that you are not a slave to your cravings.  At best, you’ll see results and get inspired to radically un-stick other parts of your life.

If you are stuck and content to stay that way, proceed with your stuckness.  Own it!  Don’t waste your energy wishing things were different if you aren’t actually prepared to do something about it.  Go forth and be happy just the way you are.  Stay stuck and be proud.

I Did It. Seventeen Pounds Down and At The Beach.

On December 31, 2011, I posted a blog called New Year's Cliché - I Have Seventeen Pounds to Lose. I planned to lose the weight in four months.  This week - seven and a half months later - on my way out the door for my summer vacation, I stepped on the scale and saw that I had finally done it.

I lost it all.  It may have taken twice as long as I hoped, but I set a goal at the beginning of the year and achieved it.  I can't say that I have ever succeeded in anything quite like this before.  I always gave up or got distracted.  To refresh... nine of the seventeen pounds were left over from my pregnancy and eight more were persistent, stubborn, bitchy, annoying pounds that I was not able to shed before getting pregnant.

The body I have taken to the beach this week is the body I want to live in.  I've learned what kind of choices I need to make to live here.  I've learned how my body responds to specific food and exercise habits.  I've learned what kind of mindset I need to maintain in order to be happy inside of those choices.  And I've learned that, apart from injury or illness, the state of my body is under my control.  I have no excuse anymore for living inside of a body that makes me uncomfortable.

Most importantly, I learned that forgiveness, patience, and unyielding persistence are absolutely crucial.  They are far more important than willpower.  Willpower will walk you through a day or two.  It will carry you right up to the moment that a colleague takes credit for your brilliant idea at work or your beloved boyfriend suddenly decides he's voting Romney/Paul.  It will carry you through lunch and dinner but not through the darkest hours of the night.

If there is a bad night or a bad week, you have two choices: forgive yourself and move on or give in to the badness.  It's your own glorious choice to make, and this is where the strength of your motivation comes in.  How much does it matter?  Why are you trying to lose this weight?  You better have a damn good reason or you will slip hard and fast.

I wanted to lose mine because I felt like this first year of new-momhood had the potential to define me for the rest of my life.  Change is always possible, but, for me, this moment allowed me to perceive a turning point and project into the future.  It allowed me the luxury of redefinition.  When I had a bad night, I moved on.  I didn't want to live inside of the badness going forward.

Patience was a new one for me.  I had to breathe as time slipped through my fingers this summer.  I couldn't hold on to arbitrary deadlines.  If I didn't get there, I didn't get there.  I had to move the goalpost back and be persistent.  It took me seven and half months instead of four.  I got stuck countless times.  I hung out in the stuck places for weeks-on-end and allowed myself that time guilt-free.  I could tell when I wasn't ready to push through.  My body was tired or my mind was panicked.  If I felt resistance on either front - mental or physical, I pulled back and changed the goal to temporary maintenance.  Pushing forward before I was ready would have destroyed my confidence and upended my focus.  I waited, keeping a steady eye on the goal, not allowing the bullshit in my head to trick me into giving up.

I wrote in the New Year's post that I would have counseled a client that four months was a reasonable time frame to lose seventeen pounds.  That would have been a mistake.  In all likelihood, the client would not have reached the goal and would have given up.  Fortunately, I was my own lab rat in this case.  The time didn't matter.  Plateaus didn't matter.  All that mattered was that I was consistently moving in the right direction.

I'm reading a book right now called Ada's Rules, a brilliant, funny, fictional account of an African American preacher's wife who sets 53 rules for herself over the course of a year in pursuit of life-altering weight loss.  Her motivations range from setting an example for her grown daughters to impressing, and possibly bedding, her long-lost first love.  The rules range from "Walk 30 minutes a day, everyday" to "Get better hair down there".  It's a manifesto for how to take better care of yourself one step at a time.  The rule that meant the most to me was "Don't stop short of your goal".

As this last month floated by and I hovered two pounds over my goal, I could easily have given in and decided that was good enough.  But it wasn't.  I needed to finish.  I needed to see the number on the scale.  I know now that I can achieve this body, and I took the time necessary to achieve it with peace in my heart.  I'm seventeen pounds down and calm... which is more than I even knew to hope for.  Now the work of long-term maintenance begins, and I'm looking forward to it.

I hate it when people post pictures of themselves in skimpy outfits online.  Tacky.

But this is cause for celebration.  I did it.  And now I'm at the beach.

As Requested... Snack Ideas!

Okay, you all have been asking for healthy snack ideas and ways to incorporate more fruits and vegetables in your diets.  Lisa Leake's blog, 100 Days of Real Food, is full of all kinds of great recipes.  I, for one, plan to spend all day there, soaking my brain in her good ideas.

Check out her post 85 Snack Ideas for Kids (and Adults).  You can also search her blog for more recipes for lunch and beyond.  I hope this helps.  Snack on!

Time for Yoga

Seven months into my post-baby weight loss adventure, I am two pounds away from my goal.  I have learned along the way to take the time to let my brain catch up to my body, waiting for my mind to recognize the new body weight as normal before proceeding to lose more.  It has taken longer than I hoped, but just about as long as I expected.  I'm proud of myself for the work done so far.

I'm also tired, achy, and vaguely bored.  I've taught myself dozens of new exercises and pounded away on the treadmill.  I've walked miles and miles outside each day that the heat index stayed below 105 degrees.  The workouts have been effective and empowering, but now I'm ready for quieter strength.  I'm yearning for somebody else to guide me for 90 minutes, to stretch and breathe and find muscles I never knew I had.

I'll keep at it in the gym, and the walks outdoors are invaluable... but in every physical and emotional transformation, there is a time to add and subtract.  I am coming full circle to the yoga that pulled me out of depression in my early-20s and the yoga that cushioned my pregnancy this past year.  I'm excited to see what happens when I approach that work from a place of light instead of darkness.

I am so thankful for the studio two blocks from my home and for my many yoga-loving friends who remind me - by their own example - how much strength there is in stillness.

Frozen Food Is Your Friend

Okay, I am loving this woman, Jane Lear, and her thoughts in her article "Surprise! Frozen Seafood Is Often the Best Option".  First of all, I am a pescetarian living in a land-locked state, so fresh fish is often inaccessible, over-priced or low-quality.  Jane makes some great points about why and how frozen seafood is a healthy option, and she has some good links on there to help you determine which frozen fish is eco-friendly.  Second of all, I love her comment "I'm not sure when [convenience] became a dirty word."  

We are busy people.  We are often too busy to grow, pick, clean, peel, shuck or otherwise prepare our own fresh food.  Three cheers to all those folks who are capable of doing these things on a daily basis, but I hereby absolve the rest of us from frozen/packaged food-induced guilt.  

There are lots of lovely grocery stores around that sell all kinds of frozen foods and/or pre-cut, sliced, and diced foods that are perfectly healthy.  Sometimes they are even healthier than fresh foods that have been flown halfway around the world over the course of many days, losing nutrients all the while.  The key is to make sure these "convenience" foods have not been coated in sauces or preservatives (including salt) that transform them into unhealthy options.

Of course, local and fresh is ideal, but if it is a whole food, frozen fresh and unaltered, it is probably very good for you and your family.  Defrost with pride.

Fiona Apple is Haunting Me

I went to see Fiona Apple at the Ryman in Nashville last week.  She slithered around on the stage with her Holocaust eyes, howling at the moon.  She played brilliant piano and left space in her songs for the melody to land.  She was herself unchanged, and I was lost in 1998.  I couldn't separate her current self from the bygone moments when she accompanied me at 2 a.m. on the subway in NYC, coming home from God knows where - not entirely sober - and most definitely not at all happy.  She resides too deeply in my past for me to be able to take her with me into the present.

Back in 1998, she was so angry and gritty and skinny.  I was angry, trying for gritty, and desperate for skinny.  She was everything I imagined myself to be, except I was chubs. I found myself, this week, sitting in killer seats at the Ryman, married with a baby, a house, and a husband.  She was still angry, gritty, and skinny.  Every other song seemed to have a lyric about filling her skin, using her skin, getting under or on top of her skin. Her whole wold still seems to be about her skin.  I got lost in her psychology and could barely approach the music.  My skin fits pretty well these days.

I'm not angry anymore, not gritty (except maybe for the killer tattoo I just got), and I never got skinny like Fiona-skinny.  Some tiny, twisted part of myself spent those two hours wishing I could be like that, just to know what it feels like to cave your chest in, stick your collar bones out like blades, and barely feel the clothes hanging off of your body. But then I remembered that I like being happy and that means being healthy.

Sorry I couldn't hear the music, Fiona.  I'm too far gone to the other side.

It Was A Dark Day at Body Baggage

This Monday was a dark day at Body Baggage for Misfits... and our best day yet.

Everybody came in with failure of one sort or another.  We had injuries, bizarre medical ailments, lethargy, plateaus, and plain old lack of follow-through.  We had opportunities that were missed and goals that were accomplished but not acknowledged.  We put it all out on the table, chased it with a glass of wine, and looked forward to the coming week.  By the end of the night, we had numerous people in the group making dates to try new forms of exercise and a growing sense of camaraderie.

I don't have any deep thoughts here.  Just... new friends are good.  Truth is good.  We are moving towards good, and I am happy.  Thank you, ladies!

Why Juicing Is Not All Its Cracked Up to Be

I tell my clients all the time that juicing is not all it's cracked up to be.
- Liquids don't make you feel as full as whole fruits/veggies would.
- You tend to drink far more calories than you would ever eat.
- Cleansing fasts are unnecessary for good health and unhelpful for long-term weight loss.

Sorry!  I know I'll catch some hell for this, but I don't like what juice fasts do to a dieter's psyche.  The idea is to feel full and satisfied, strong and energized... not hungry and frustrated.  Every time I've had a client who loses weight on a juice fast, they always gain it all back, plus a few pounds.  And most people get bitchy and unfocused after a few days of liquid only "cleanses".

If you want to eat healthier, eat lots of whole fruits and vegetables.  So says me... and this nutritionist.  See?  I'm not the only juicing-naysayer out there.

Permission to Give Up and Leave

Body Baggage for Misfits had its second meeting last week, and we were discussing tricks we use to get ourselves to exercise.  I used to put my workout clothes on the floor by the side of the bed and get dressed under the covers before flinging myself up and out.  Another woman slept in her workout gear before meeting a friend for early-morning jogs.  Another put her alarm clock across the room to force herself to get out of bed.  Several others pack their clothes and bring them with them to work, knowing that if they go home to change, they're screwed.

All of those are helpful tricks, but what happens if you are lying in bed or getting ready to leave work at the end of the day, totally miserable at the prospect of exercising and having a debate with yourself about whether or not to actually put those clothes on and go?  I say, give yourself an out.  Do not allow a debate in your mind about whether to get up, put on the clothes, press play on the yoga video, or set foot in the gym.  Do those things without burning a bunch of mental energy on the debate, but know that if you get to the gym and you are standing on the treadmill and you are still completely miserable... you have permission to give up and leave without doing a damn thing.

I have done this myself, and I am proud.

If the desire not to exercise is that strong, don't do it.  But you still have to get your body to the gym or out on the sidewalk or wherever it is that you are planning to exercise.  Forget the debate.  The debate is killing your motivation.  Get to the starting point, and then make the decision.

Walk away if you must, but do it with swagger. 

Are You Hungry for Apples?

We had our first meeting of Body Baggage for Misfits last week, and one of the women came out with a little gem of wisdom that struck right at the heart of the question at hand.  We were discussing cravings and emotional eating, and she said a friend asked her once, "Are you hungry for apples or carrots?  If not, you're probably not actually hungry."

It's so simple and yet completely brilliant.  Obviously, we could amend it to say, "Are you hungry for apples, carrots, grilled salmon, brown rice, or tofu?  If not, you're probably not actually hungry."    If you want pizza, french fries, ice cream, chocolate, cupcakes, or beer, your brain is faking you out.  You are craving sugar, salt, fat, and diversion, not real food that will nourish you.

Sad to say, asking this question alone will not solve the problem.  You'll probably still want a giant bowl of pasta or an entire bucket of Trader Joe's Oatmeal Chocolate Chip mini-cookies, but asking the question is a start.  In fact, recognizing true hunger for what it is - is an enormous step toward healthy eating and a body you can love.  It is one of the most difficult and most important things you can do. So start by asking the question every once in a while and see if it leads you anywhere.  I'd be curious to hear the results.

Hot and Unbothered

My article for the June 2012 issue of Her Magazine... Hot and Unbothered

I am a better person in the summer than I am in the winter.  I mean… I’m not a bitch between November and February.  I’m just happier, lighter, more of a glass-half-full-kind-of-a-person in the summertime.  The scorching sun hits my body and all of the pessimistic bitterness of winter melts away.  I want to put on summer dresses and wander aimlessly through the streets after dark with the humidity wrapping me up like a warm blanket.  I love summer in the south.  It’s hot – unapologetically blazing hot.

Summertime makes me want to lighten up, physically and psychologically.  It makes me want to be lithe and strong, not because I want to look a certain way in skimpy summer clothing but because I want to be light on my feet, able to sway with the breeze.  My muscles are warm, and my mind starts wandering into previously restricted territory.  I begin to dream about things that seemed impossible when there were no leaves on the trees.  I start to allow myself to imagine – what would it be like to realize one of those dreams?  What if I actually did it?

I’m talking about realistic, achievable dreams, goals that have been set over and over again and abandoned just as frequently.  Everybody has them.  Maybe you want to lose twelve pounds, learn to speak French, or go back to school for a master’s degree.  Maybe you want to appear onstage at the Ryman someday but you figure you’ll start by picking up your guitar and playing a song for the very first time around a campfire with friends.

Summertime makes me feel like everything is possible.  It coaxes my imagination to come out and play.  Life seems to start sliding forward effortlessly each year as the dogwoods bloom and the crew begins building massive music stages in Manchester, TN.  Summer rocks; winter blows.

So here’s my question to my training clients in the summertime: What do you want?  Do you want to lose some weight?  Do you want to ease your back pain?  Do you want a different job?  What do you want??  Would you consider taking a couple of months out of your whole, big, long life to consider that maybe you can actually do it?  Perish the thought.

We spend vast amounts of time convincing ourselves that much of what we would like to achieve is impossible.  There have been countless things I have spent years convincing myself were too hard, too unlikely, and/or too risky.  Fortunately after enough years of fear and foot-dragging, I usually, eventually get restless enough to challenge my inner-naysayer.

I was convinced I could never find true love.  I followed my heart cross-country courting disaster and landed in the arms of a soul mate.  I was convinced I could never lose the baby weight if I got pregnant.  Off it came.  I was convinced I could never be successful or happy if I left behind a career that made me miserable.  I did it.  And then I did it again when the next career pissed me off. 

I had a therapist tell me once, “You always seem to get where you’re going.  You just take the longest, most difficult path to get there.”  Lovely.

Why do we spend so much time tearing ourselves down?  My clients do it all the time, undercutting themselves before they get a chance to see what might be possible.  We tug and pull and procrastinate - digging up all kinds of reasons why it’s too time-consuming or too far-fetched.

For an assumption to change, first you have to imagine that maybe you’re wrong.  Maybe it’s not too hard or too late.  Maybe it’s actually possible.

After my twenties passed me by like a streaker at a minor league baseball game, I began to consider the possibility that I should go after a dream or two before wasting years convincing myself that those dreams are impossible.  I’m pretty sure it was summertime when this occurred to me, sitting on the stoop of an apartment building, wearing a summer dress, feeling like my muscles wanted to be stronger, my imagination freer.

Now, if only I could bottle summertime, stockpile it in my pantry and take a swig of it in the dead of winter when I am in need of a boost. 

Hmm.  Maybe?

I Wanted to Hate Her. I Really Did.

There was a beautiful woman at the gym today with long, dark chestnut hair. She might as well have been ten feet tall and barely had an ounce of fat on her body. She could have been a model, though you don't see too many of those in Nashville... especially not at the gym.  She wasn't doing the usual thing waify girls always seem to be doing while working out. She wasn't aimlessly gliding away on the elliptical machine, barely breaking a sweat and flipping carelessly through a celebrity gossip rag.

She was fierce, attacking a series of plyometric exercises: jumping and pushing and pounding away. She used her body weight to create resistance and gravity to challenge her balance and endurance. This woman was not messing around. She had fire in her eyes. She was an athlete, a lithe, beautiful, determined and focused athlete.

I was walking past her at one point to return my balance ball to its rightful place. She glanced up, and I couldn't help but say, "You are killing it! Well done." At first she smirked as if she thought I was being sarcastic, but when she realized it was a genuine compliment, she cocked her head, warmed instantly, and said, "Thanks!" with pride and surprise in her voice.

It occurred to me that we, as women, don't encourage each other enough, especially in the rhelm of exercise and fitness.  This modely lady was clearly not accustomed to strange women reaching out to her. I'm sure she takes a lot of resentment from other women who are jealous of her looks or her body.  What the rest of us don't know is how hard she works for it. She was grunting and sweating with the best of them, and I, for one, was impressed and humbled.

So I'm reaching out today to each of you who show up at the gym or on the hiking trail, getting dirty and sweaty, fearlessly squeezing into spandex yoga pants and braving the world of weights and treadmills.  Skinny or fat, it takes strength to get up everyday, balance work, family, friends, and maintain focus on your long term health.

My first impulse when I saw those long, thin legs was to be bitter and jealous.  Shame on me.  To anyone who sweats like a pig, I honor you.  

Weight Loss Update - As Promised

Okay, I set a goal and promised to give an update at the end of April.  I am a few days late, but here's the deal.

I have lost 35 lbs since the end of my pregnancy.

I have lost 10 lbs since I got stuck and set the goal to lose 17 more.

I have 7 lbs left to go.

Though I am not moving as quickly as I hoped, I am deeply proud of myself for getting this far this fast, for sticking to it, and for staying focused through the exhaustion of early motherhood.  I am in the best shape I've been in for years.  Not only that - after decades of struggle with body image and sugar addiction, I feel my head clearing, making room for a peaceful, healthy relationship with my own body.  

Imagine that.

The Baby Made Me Do It: Finding Freedom in Motherhood

My article for the May 2012 "motherhood" issue of Her Magazine... The Baby Made Me Do It: Finding Freedom in Motherhood

I am effectively a prisoner in my house after 6:30 p.m.  I have a four-month-old baby who lays his little self down in my arms each night and closes his eyes at exactly 6:30 p.m.  There are no more spontaneous trips out to see a band or late-night runs to the grocery store.  My husband works late, so it’s just me and my sleeping baby boy in the house most nights.  The little man and I have found a rhythm, and as the fog of new motherhood has lifted, I have discovered something I never could have anticipated.  I found my freedom.

I always figured becoming a mother would be a horror show.  Everything would come to a screeching halt, and I would live out my days a slave to the needs of my child.  I would be fat and frustrated, resentful of my husband and forever saddened by the loss of a life that could have been.  It is true that I cannot leave the house without paying another adult to sit in my place, but on all other fronts, my experience of becoming a mother has been the opposite of what I expected. 

I have lost every ounce of apathetic procrastination that I had in me.  I have never been so driven and interested in revitalizing my own life.  I am filled with an urgent desire to step out of my comfort zone and live bigger, to stop postponing my goals and move with purpose towards the woman I want to be – physically, professionally, and personally.  

As I watch my son “age” through these first few months of life, I am more deeply aware of my own youth and the value I should be placing on it.  I’m aware of the passage of time in a whole new way.  I will not be a young woman forever, just as he will not be a baby for long.  We are going to age together, and, thanks to him, I understand in a whole new way the value of my days on this planet. 

Losing the weight tomorrow isn’t good enough any more.  Calling up my new friend to come over for a bottle of wine cannot wait another week.  Not speaking my mind in my writing isn’t going to cut it.  And putting off the tattoo that I’ve been dreaming of for over a decade is unacceptable.  The time is now.  So often these things get shelved for fear of failure and judgment… fear of breaking free of the good opinion of others.

I am no longer primarily a daughter and a girlfriend.  I am a mother and a wife.  It’s my show now.  I never expected those grown-up labels to carry such power, but, happily, they do.  After turning 35 and giving birth, I think I can officially claim my adulthood.  

I want my motherhood and my life to be openly, gleefully messy.  I want my son to understand that I will not be trying to squeeze him into a predetermined box.  I am not interested in defining who he is.  I hope he will be kind, compassionate, joyful, and excited about whatever he decides to pursue, but I can only set the best example I know how and watch as he becomes his own man.

He is so small and vulnerable, hilarious and full of life.  He challenges me every day to crack my heart open just a little bit wider, to be calmer and to love living a little bit more.  I may be chained to the house more often, but with my physical loss of freedom has come a powerful psychological freedom.  I may not be able to jet out to try a new yoga class at a moment’s notice anymore, but I am challenged to discover parts of myself I never even knew were missing.  Through my exhaustion after 4 a.m. feedings and endless hours of rocking and singing, I feel younger than ever.  I have a fire to get out into the world and take advantage of this body and mind while they are still in their prime.

I’m sure my little man has much more to teach me over the years, and I have a thing or two to share with him.  In the meantime, my job is to make sure he has a mom who is healthy and loving, who knows who she is and is always open to new adventures.  With his wide eyes smiling at me every morning, I don’t think it will be too hard to stay motivated.  I have to keep up.  Game on.

The Infamous Weight Loss Plateau

Stuck. That is where I am at the moment. Very stuck. Nine pounds into what will hopefully be a seventeen pound weight loss after having a baby four months ago. Nine pounds down and STOP.

Here’s the thing about weight loss plateaus… if you hit one, you know you’ve arrived somewhere. You’ve accomplished something. When you are in the process of losing weight, there are points along the way where your body wants to put on the brakes. It’s a signal that your metabolism, your muscles, and your mind need a chance to catch up and get accustomed to the new weight.

It is profoundly frustrating, but it should be seen as positive thing, a space for taking stock, recognizing the new body for what it is… a huge accomplishment. It may not be the body you are ultimately striving for, but it is different enough from what you were maintaining before that it demands a moment to catch up. Your body is telling you something. It is saying, “Hold on a second! This is not normal. What does this weight loss mean? Am I starving?? Do I need to protect myself and hang onto the weight that is left?”

The key here is to stay focused and refuse to give up

The first week of a new weight loss plan is usually pretty successful. Dietary changes are consistent and exercises are new and challenging. You are sore. You might drop several pounds of water weight because you aren’t taking in as much sugar and salt. The scale proudly reports that you have lost three pounds in one week, and you feel like you will be able to do that forever.

Week two is a slap in the face. It is often the first mini-plateau. You’ve lost the water weight, and your metabolism is carefully adjusting to the new calorie intake and expenditure. You haven’t built up enough muscle mass to make you feel tight and fit yet or to help you burn more calories during the day. The dietary changes slip once or twice. It’s week two, and it is almost always a disaster. You might lose nothing. You might lose half a pound. You might gain a pound. Anyway, it feels like a failure.

Week two is a maintenance week and should be dedicated to maintaining your behavioral changes, not worrying about the results on the scale. This is the first of several plateaus you will likely face along the way. If you can just keep your head down and keep doing what worked so well the first week, you will keep losing. It might come off slowly, but that truly is the best way to go. Slow weight loss is much more likely to be permanent… and that, inevitably, includes plateaus.

As I wait here, stuck, it is my job to quietly, peacefully reassure my body that I have enough energy to function healthfully and that it is okay to let go of a little bit more extra poundage. In order to do that, I will have to keep up the workout routine and stick to the dietary changes I have made. I should NOT suddenly cut another 500 calories out of my diet or start spending six hours at the gym every day. I want to let my body know that this is a change I can maintain and that it will feel good in the end. Do not panic. Stay calm.

If after a few weeks I am still stuck, I may need to make some subtle changes to what I am doing. I might add some high intensity intervals to my cardio routine or investigate my diet to see if there is a food or a habit I’ve been ignoring that could make a difference.

I need to treat my body and mind like they have just been through a divorce because, in fact, they have just divorced themselves of 8 pounds they were accustomed to carrying around. I need to help them understand that this new unencumbered, lighter life is a huge step forward, not something scary to be resisted.

A plateau demands patience. You can’t rush genius after all, and if you’ve lost five pounds toward a fifteen pound goal or two pounds toward a fifty pound goal, that’s exactly what you are, a weight loss genius. It is incredibly tough to lose weight. You will get stuck, but keep moving forward. Don’t talk yourself out of it. Keep your eye on the prize, and don’t waver.

These last eight pounds I have to lose are pounds I was carrying before I got pregnant. It is the weight I swore I would drop before having a baby but never did. After walking around bloated and bulbous for nine months (and a few months after that), I’m tired of being squishy. I know where I want my weight to be, and I’ve never been so motivated to get there.

I’m at a plateau. My body is telling me, “This is where you were when you got pregnant. Let’s stop right here in the comfort zone.” But that’s not good enough anymore. I need to let my body rest here for a week or two and then give it a kick start to let it know I can be better, stronger, and lighter.

I’m not taking no for an answer.

East Nashville and a Pittie Named Elvin

My article for HER this month, April 2012, their neighborhood issue... East Nashville and a Pittie Named Elvin

I knew I loved East Nashville for its sidewalks, ripe with block parties and chance meetings. I knew I loved it for the constant flow of young couples with strollers and countless dog walkers, beautiful people with beautiful puppies. I loved that I could step out my front door every day with my goofy, kind-hearted pitbull, Elvin, his butt wiggling gleefully as he surged out into the world, and we could walk for miles discovering new scents and new sidewalks, making friends along the way. We stopped regularly to say hello to the adorable black and white pittie on 12^th and Forrest, the firefighters hanging out in front of the historic firehouse on 16^th and Holly, and the ducks swimming at Shelby Park.

I knew I loved East Nashville, but I had no idea how much East Nashville loved me back.

On the night of October 7^, 2011, my husband, Ken, Elvin and I went out on what would be our last walk together, tracing the sidewalks from 5 Points to the park. I didn’t know that night would be the last time I would tuck Elvin into bed and lay my head down next to his, listening to him breathe and drifting off to the train whistles in the distance. If I had known, I would have kept right on walking, in the hope that I could fend off the sun at daybreak.

The following afternoon I was sitting in our guest room, sorting through some paperwork. I called Ken over so we could stare lovingly at our Elvin through the window overlooking the back yard. We watched him circle, around and around, in search of the perfect spot to land, and when he found his resting place, my heart swelled. I turned back to my work and never saw him again. He disappeared from our backyard that afternoon, made an appearance at Beyond the Edge, a bar up the street, and then vanished into thin air.

Ken and I lost our minds. We thought the rest of the world might think we were nuts for the depth of pain and loss we were feeling and the lengths we were willing to go to get him back. We were wrong. Before nightfall, we had an army of people looking for him, hitting the streets and posting flyers all over the neighborhood. I was beside myself, trying to manage a growing sense of dread, when I looked around and realized that our living room had filled with friends, acquaintances, and perfect strangers - kind, selfless, animal-loving strangers - ready to help us implement a fully developed action plan to find our boy.

When a stray dog is seen wandering the streets of East Nashville, he or she is generally picked up by a random dog-loving citizen and reported to East C.A.N., Camp Chaos, Dogs Deserve Better, or Labor of Love. Within hours, information is disseminated through social networks and on the East Nashville listserv. The dog is returned to his or her owners, and a happy ending ensues. If an owner can’t be found, there are dozens of foster families who love and care for the dogs until forever homes can be found. It is the puppy-power underworld of East Nashville. The rescues go into homeless camps to bring dog sweaters and provide needed veterinary care. They brave dark alleys and respond to reports of dogs chained outside season-after-brutal-season. They make East Nashville a safe place for dogs and the owners who love them.

Just yesterday, almost four months since Elvin went missing, someone forwarded me a post a stranger wrote on Facebook. The man said that when he speaks to people all over the city and beyond, he tells them he lives in East Nashville and they say “Elvin!” Our boy is famous; the good people of East Nashville made sure of it. Every time the phone rings with a new lead, we are encouraged. We are still looking and so are the hundreds of people who have reached out to us in support.

Since losing Elvin, Ken and I have learned about the kindness of strangers. We’ve made treasured new friends. We’ve learned that we live in a close knit, compassionate community. We’ve learned that we must always find ways to reach out to people around us who are in need, and we know now that we cannot take our time together as a family for granted. We have also learned that the train whistle late at night can be a lonely, scary thing when one member of the family is lost in the world.

You can come home now, Elvin. Your Dad and I have learned our lessons, and we have many, many new people and puppies waiting to meet you. I still walk the sidewalks everyday looking for you, and I still have your favorite rawhides in the pantry. Please come home, buddy. We miss you.

G-bye Fat Jeans

So... the fat jeans I bought post-pregnancy are falling off. Just thought I'd share. It feels damn good. I think I'll keep wearing them for a while until they get nice and saggy. 3 lbs away from pre-pregnancy weight, 11 lbs away from goal... whoop!

Cost-Benefit Analysis: Making Good Choices Is a Daily Struggle

My article Cost-Benefit Analysis: Making Good Choices Is a Daily Struggle for the March issue of HER is out. I'm coming clean about cupcakes and wine.

It is 11 p.m. I’m achy from my workout yesterday and feeling pretty good about it. I ate well today except for three large squares of chocolate from the Pound Plus Trader Joe’s 72% Dark Chocolate bar after dinner. My waistline is blissfully unencumbered by elastic-waist, cotton and spandex yoga pants. I didn’t get out for my three-mile walk today because I snoozed on the couch instead. My ten-week-old baby is going to wake up in an hour or two to eat. Another glass of wine would be nice… and maybe a snack… some of my husband’s peanut butter cereal perhaps? God, what I wouldn’t give for a hit of Red Velvet from Cupcake Collection right about now.

It’s all too familiar. Old patterns are crying out to be repeated, but there is a bigger issue at hand, a large looming goal waiting to be met. I have vowed to lose my baby weight and a little bit more by the end of April, a grand total of 17 pounds. It is a pact between me and myself. I have made many of these agreements before. Many. Of course, most of them were never fully met. So, this time, if I have any hope of reaching my goal, I have to stop and ask myself… bottom-line, bare-naked, absolutely truthfully “Why haven’t I met my goals before and why should this time be any different?”

Somehow, someway, in the past, the cupcakes were always more important than attaining the body I was shooting for. My goals were not unreachable, but the choices I made on a daily basis belied my stated objective to lose weight. I set a goal; I got distracted; it got cold outside; I went out for the night; a girlfriend came to visit; we sampled the local cuisine along with a few vodka martinis, and eventually I forgot about the objective altogether. Choices were made day-after-day, and they were not in support of my fitness goals. I remained a mildly chubby but very enthusiastic personal trainer. Nothing changed. I was willing to pay the price for cupcakes and martinis. That choice was just fine at the time, but as of now, I am not willing to pay that price anymore.

It’s a cost-benefit analysis. There is a caloric “cost” for the unhealthy choices we make every day. How much will that pizza cost? A whole lot of calories and fat. What is the benefit I get for choosing to eat it? I get to eat a yummy slice or three. I get to feel full and happy. I get to share bonding time with friends as we tear into the pie together, but I pay a steep price as I walk around every day, uncomfortably squeezed into my fat jeans.

I know I can lose 17 pounds this time around because the cost is no longer worth it to me. The benefit of an hour at the gym is greater than the benefit of tater tots. I don’t know how long it will take, but I do know that this time I am in search of a new identity, not just a new body. This is about more than weight loss. It is about how I want to feel in my life going forward from here. I don’t want to skip out on river rafting because of a crippling fear of bathing suits. I don’t want to spend my time in the car contemplating how my pants are digging into my abdomen. I don’t want to feel weak and tired. Finally (after a year of giving my body over to pregnancy and recovery) how I feel inside of my skin matters more than cupcakes.

I would prefer to sleep instead of working out. I like to drink red wine every night. I would eat sugary baked goods every day if I could… but it’s time for different choices now. New choices aren’t so hard to make when the vision at the end of the tunnel is so much more alluring than the potholes along the way. I’m ready to make choices that support the woman I want to be. The baked goods and the excuses to avoid breaking a sweat are going to have to go by the wayside for now.

The wine? Well, that's a different story. If the wine pads my hips with a soft little layer of love, that's a price I'm willing to pay.

Wedding Weight Woes: Just Say No to the Battle with the Scale

My latest article, Wedding Weight Woes: Just Say No to the Battle with the Scale, is out in Her Magazine's February Bridal Issue. Check it out!

There isn’t much that I love more than a wedding. I got married over three years ago but can still be found covertly recording Say Yes to the Dress on my DVR every Friday night. It’s a sickness, really. There is something so alluring about the romance of it all. Beautiful dresses and flowers, reluctantly adorable men in tuxedos, and the promise of eternal love and commitment. It’s all so picture perfect, isn’t it?

Therein lies the trap.

Picture perfect is all about appearances, and appearances, for many women, are inextricably tied to body image. When it’s our turn to be the bride, so many of us take what should be a happy celebration of our connection with our partners and turn it into a referendum on our bodies and sense of style, fixating on tired, old insecurities as the big day approaches.

As a personal trainer, I get a lot of calls from women trying to lose weight in advance of their weddings. They want to be able to pull that corset tight and fulfill the dream of how they should look in their wedding pictures. I get it. By all rights, it is the one time in our lives when it seems like everything should fall blissfully into place, and for some women it does. I have seen clients and friends drop weight without cutting out so much as a single serving of Manchego. When it happens that way, fantastic. However, if it doesn’t, if a woman maintains her regular, real-life weight, should her day be any less celebrated? Should she feel any less blessed, beautiful, and loved?

Many of my clients who start exercising madly before a wedding end up disappointed because their goals are set too high or they don’t have the time or energy to make the changes necessary for significant weight loss. The struggle to lose weight is something they face every day whether there is a wedding on the horizon or not. I wish they could see the wedding as a reason to let go of that struggle rather than a reason to fixate on it. There are much better, much more wonderful things to think about in anticipation of the day you get to have everyone you love in one room, supporting you and wishing you well.

As my own wedding approached, I lost weight completely effortlessly for the first and only time in my life. Frankly, it was a bizarre feeling. The war I waged my entire adult life was suddenly no war at all. The stubborn ten pounds I could never kick suddenly lifted off and floated away. I felt like an idiot for wasting decades and incalculable amounts of energy battling myself over pounds that could be lost in a blink under the right circumstances. But my momentary reprieve from the weight loss Ferris wheel proved to be a mirage. After the big day, every pointless pound steadily crept back on like a dear old friend coming over nightly for a glass of wine on the couch and a few hundred old episodes of Say Yes to the Dress. I went down; I went up. And the funny thing is… it didn’t matter one bit to my husband. He loved me down, and he loved me right back up again.

Weddings can bring that magical lightness of being, or they can bring enormous pressure and frustration. The brilliant truth of the matter is that the husbands-to-be are always in love with their women just the way they are. They proposed marriage that way, and they want their brides to be the beautiful people that they have adored from the very beginning.

So I tell my clients: we will do everything we can to help you look as sexy and stunning as possible. But the best way to insure that you will look happy and healthy on your wedding day is to be happy and healthy, strong and fit, to exercise and get lots of fresh air, to celebrate the upcoming day and put your focus on spending the rest of your life with the person you love. It has absolutely nothing to do with losing weight or dropping a dress size. It has everything to do with confidence and joy. Letting go of the pressure to lose weight is easier said than done, but if you are taking good care of yourself, your beauty will shine brightly in the photo on the mantel "from this day forward, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health."