Color Me Fit: weight loss, fitness, exercise

A friend of mine posted this piece of wisdom on her blog a few days ago, and I felt like I had to share:

An old Cherokee was teaching his grandson about life :

“There is a struggle inside me” he said to the child. “It is a struggle between two wolves.

One is full of envy, anger, greed, jealousy, arrogance, resent, possessiveness, lies, superiority and false pride.

The other is good, at peace, happy, serene, humble, generous, true and full of compassion.

This struggle is happening too inside you, my child, and inside every person.”

The grandson pondered for a while and asked his grandfather : “Which of these two wolves will win the fight ?

The old man simply replied : “The one you feed.”

It may seem silly, but when I read this short text for the first time, something snapped in me.

This goes for life in general, but I think it also goes for that specific aspect of life I’m dealing with on this blog.

I can choose to feed the wolf of anger, resent, woe-is-me thinking, self-loathing and eating to bury my problems and negative emotions. Or I can choose to feed that other wolf, the one that speaks of benevolent thoughts, acceptance, positive thinking, dedication and self-love.

I can choose to live in a cycle of bingeing/anger at myself for having let it happen, dieting, then bingeing, then dieting again. I can also choose to say “No” to the raw desire to eat whatever, embrace a healthy lifestyle for ever, and nurture myself in other ways–I may not have much money to treat myself, but I can at least enjoy a walk in the sun, or light a scented candle on my desk. A candle will not solve my problems, but neither will fast-food.

This is all the evidence, you might say, and I would agree. It is evident. It is something we should all know and apply. Alright. Now how many of us are actually able, from the start, to embrace the second path, the one of benevolence? It’s not as easy as it sounds.

I guess this hit home with even more strength because tthe past week has been pretty rough in terms of thoughts and feelings. The second semester has started again, I didn’t have time to get some ‘mental rest’ between taking my exams and attending classes again, and we of course got the mandatory speeches by every teacher about “if you want to succeed in my class, you need to put up with at least ten hours of work for every session”–which, as irrealistic as it is, can still grind you down when you’re already feeling down. And goodness knows I’ve been feeling down, about having to hold a job and being unable to focus on my studies at 150%, about aiming at a competitive exam and not being ‘allowed’ to pass my B.A. with ‘only’ the average grade… Down, I tell you.

However, this does not mean I have to let that angry wolf win.

It is hard. It takes much talking to myself, as well as much talking myself into, for me to stop resorting to that silly band-aid of snacks and ‘comfort foods’. Yet I have to do it, because I do not want to go on spiralling downwards.

That young, benevolent wolf is going to grow up and become strong, I tell you.

Tags: inspiration, wisdom

I had plans that fell through at the last minute this afternoon, and since I was feeling myself steering towards the prospect of spend said afternoon in front of the TV eating crap, I said: “No.” And I took my bike to head downtown, with the sudden aim of doing something I should have done a long time ago: having the third hole in my left ear pierced again. (Silly me had broken the ring that was in it a few years ago, and by the time I found something else to put in it, the hole was closed again. Feh.)

Well, I didn’t just go to town, to be honest. I also put on sexy clothes, and decided–again, at the last moment–to try on a tube of temporary blue dye a friend had offered me some time ago. And I put on make-up as well. And jewellery. Whatever I could lay my hands on to make me realize that getting out and showing off to the rest of the world was much better than plopping down on the couch with a bowl of cereals.

So I biked downtown, went to a store where I knew I could have my ear pierced in a safe and non-expensive way, and took this as an opportunity to buy some more jewelry and accessories that were on sale (they also had scarves for 1 euro, things like that). It took me quite some time–mostly because the first store I walked in was too full, and the employees at the second one had me apologetically wait because they had to deal with two kids who had attempted to steal earrings. But since it took me so long, I also was kept away from the TV+food temptation long enough for it to dwindle.

Anyway, I went back home more than two hours later with my new earrings and scarf and bracelets and stuff… and boy, was I glad I went on that shopping spree. I know it seems silly, but doing that kind of things from time to time really feels nice, and reminds me that, yes, I am worth the care and trendy clothes.

Or maybe I’m just so vain, but as long as it helps me not regaining that darned weight, I’m okay with that!

Tags: girl stuff, jewellery, piercing

I swear I more and more have the feeling that everything remotely ’social’ is revolving around food these days. Or maybe it’s just me?.

I’m guilty as well. I also invite friends over to share a cup of tea and a slice of cake. But I’ve come to realize that I do that just because it seems to be the only really accepted (and acceptable) social convention to follow. Personnally, when I want to see my friends or family, I couldn’t care less about having something to nibble on. I would be just as happy with a glass of water, no food on the table, and chatting happily will the people I like.

But somehow, I have the nagging feeling that if I were to do that, sooner or later rumors about me being very ‘rude’ would arise. Because it seems so ingrained in our society that social gathering = food, and that going against that isn’t appropriate.

And this bothers me.

It bothers me because it makes me feel forced to do something I don’t want to do.

It bothers me because I have to plan, make sure I have stuff to serve to my guests, and if someone shows up unexpected, either I don’t have anything to offer them, or it means I have to store foods I don’t want to have around me. How long do a few bags of cookies last in my pantry if there’s no one else than me to eat them? Answer: not very long.

It also bothers me because, every time I am invited to someone else’s house, I have to worry about exerting portion control and not eating [insert random crap here] for the only reason that it’s here in front of me. (I don’t mind having a cookie or two if they’re good and I feel like it; it’s just that when everybody around you is eating and eating and eating from the plate, it’s not a matter of ‘willpower’ anymore.)

People will say that I am ‘obsessed’ about food and shoudn’t worry my head about it. I suppose I should also stop worry about being 100 kgs by the time I am 40 (and trust me, if I don’t watch myself, I will be 100 kgs by then; either you gain on weight easily or not, after all). Right. Being worried about food or being worried about my cholesterol, health, how long I’ll be able to walk alone without being in pain, etc. Food is still the least evil.

I know things won’t change, and if they do, it’ll likely be after a long time only. Nevertheless, I am miffed about that. I like good food. I like enjoying a well-cooked meal. I don’t mind a social gathering centered around food now and then. On the other hand, all the time gets damn tirseome, and I don’t like being faced with temptations to which I know I will give in without actually especially liking them. (Junk food is so banal and second-rate. Seriously. I eat it out of boredom, because I like munching on something, but not out of sheer pleasure for such foods–not anymore, at least.)

Oh, well. I guess I just had to rant a little about that. Eating as a whole is tiresome when it happens too often. And it seems to happen so often no matter where I go.

Can’t we just enjoy each other’s presence without having to place a box of cookies between us?

Tags: food, temptations, social, gatherings

It seems to be a given on many blogs I tour, and on the forums I browse as well: almost every single woman there will sooner or later complain about PMS and the weird cravings it induces. I’ve been at overcoming my bad habits and replacing them by healthy ones since 2005, so I’ve seen my share of such threads and posts. It always makes me wonder.

A couple of times, I must have used PMS as a justification for a few wrong food choices. There, I confessed it. Well, it was all a lie. It’s not on my period that I’ve had my worst binges. Or the contrary. Or whatever. I’ve looked for a correlation, but I haven’t found any.

Sometimes, it feels like I’m not really a woman in that regards. Like I’m a man, or some kind of neutral organism who just happens to bleed every month. When it comes to losing weight, it must be quite the blessing, because I don’t experience anything special. My moods don’t change. The weight on the scales barely shifts by one pound, two at the very most. I don’t crave chocolate or pizza or any other kind of junk food. I don’t feel hungrier than usual, unless I’ve been stubbornly refusing to turn the heater on, in which case being cold will make me hungry, but this has nothing to do with having one’s period, I suppose.

Granted, getting on the pill fixed my problems of long periods, heavy pains and feeling anemic half of the time, but even before that, I never suffered sudden cravings nor had the urge to eat whatever on those days. I guess I was too busy lying down while some invisible sadist drove nails trough my uterus, one by one, sloooowly, and refused to stop before I had taken four or five painkillers pills and almost fainted at the office or at school because that’s just a stupid thing to do. At least pain is not a feeling that compels me to eat. Joy.

Well. Where was I going? Oh yes. For the reasons mentioned above, if you ever read about me overeating/making bad food choices “because I’m PMSing”? Please immediately call me out on this. Or hit me hard with a virtual shovel. Because it will be a lie and pathetic attempt at justifying what I should, plainly and simply, call a bad choice.

Being lucky in that regards doesn’t mean I have to use what may be a real problem for other women to cover up my silly behaviours.

It’s neither the first nor the last time that I blog about food at the office, but this tile I thought about it in a different way.

Where I work is not the worst place when it comes to sweets. We tend to regularly have them in the house, so to say, but we don’t have “pig-out days” or whatever these might be called. When someone brings a cake, it’s ONE cake; we don’t end up with ten different kinds scattered around, and this is precisely part of my strategy to cope with food–I know that if I don’t have a slice right now and “wait just a little, you can have one later on”, by the time ‘later on’ comes, the cake is gone. Good riddance, right?

But earlier on this week, I confessed on Jonathan’s blog that I, too, tend to unload at work.

Yes. When I find myself with leftovers from my birthday, I bring them at the office. Or at school. Or at friends’. But mostly at the office, because I know I can just leave it there and someone (not me, by all means) is bound to eat it.

So, of course, I too take part in that food fest. I plead guilty. Sometimes, I throw candy and leftovers away; sometimes, also, I feel bad about wasting food all the same. hen you don’t have much money, every food looks like some kind of sacred thing, I suppose. Unless I am just weird like that.

Maybe I’m just using other people as a trashcan. Maybe this is bad. Maybe I should stop. Nobody would resent me if I were to never bring food at the office again (it’s not like I do it every day, and they’re not exactly used to expect something like this from me!). After all, I am the first one to grit my teeth when a cake appears in the kitchen in the morning, and it’s not because some WW leaders or whoever and their dog suggest we unload at work that I should do it and maybe tempt other people will it.

Yep. I think I will stop. The trashcan will remain my trashcan, the one that sits lazily in my mini-kitchen, and nothing else/no one else. I know it’s an example nobody at work will follow, first of all because I’ll never mention it, but perhaps I’ll feel a little better about it.

I know I’ve already mentioned it a few times on this blog: I’m quite sensitive to cold and to changes of temperature. Losing weight has not contributed to improving that in the slightest. On the contrary: I’m of those people who are still at ease with long sleeves and a cardigan in a room heated at 26°C (and my thyroid is alright, it’s not the problem). I’m just, well… easily cold. That’s all.

So why couldn’t I realize sooner that not turning on the heater since November could only cause me problems?!

Granted, all I have is an electrical heater, and using it will make my bill bigger. It’s already hard enough as it is–my salary allows me to survive, but I can’t afford many things for myself, nor can I really save money every month–so I preferred being careful about that. I haven’t caught a cold or whatever due to that, thanks goodness, because I have lots of clothes to pile on, and blankets, and a tiny heater under my desk that I turns on sometimes; besides, between work, studies and being at the library, I’m not that much at home. Nevertheless, when I am, like I was these past Christmas holidays to revise for my exams, it was hard. Very hard.

Now, considering that being cold tends to make me very hungry, is it a wonder that I’ve had binge episodes throughout these two months? Heh.

(By the way, I’m still unsure whether I should call these ‘binges’ or not. I don’t eat to forget sadness or solitude, I’m not particularly ashamed of myself, and save for the huge caloric intake in a short amount of time, my ‘episodes’ don’t fit the classical definition of a binge eating disorder. But for want of another word, let’s use this one, unless someone can suggest a better one to me.)

Because, come to think of it… When I overeat, I’m warm. I don’t mean “I’m feeling warm inside” or something like that in a psychological way. No, I’m just warm. Physically warm. Perhaps my body having to digest all that useless fuel makes it produce more warmth? I don’t know. It works even better when I eat warm foods, which is logical enough, I suppose.

This past week-end, I gave in. I turned the heater on. Oddly enough, since that moment, I haven’t had any urge to overeat. I may be hungry before going to bed, but it doesn’t bother me. And after a meal, I’m able to put the fork down without immediately grabbing for more.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed. If this was a reason to that odd behaviour of mine, if not being so cold can help me in solving the problem, then, tough it up, I’ll accept a higher electricity bill at the end of the month. It will be hard; but it can’t be harder, in fact, than spending more money than needed due to emptying my whole cupboard and then having to buy everything again, can it?

Tags: cold, eating, overeating

Recently, a thread with this title appeared on the 3FC boards, and the answers posted in it were quite interesting and enlightening.

How did we get so fat? How did I? Honestly, I don’t know. I wasn’t a pudgy child when I was very young, but I started getting a little belly and gradually putting on weight around the age of 8–I guess I have to thank a very early puberty for that, and let me tell you, when you’re 8, you’re really not concerned by healthy matters, diets, potential boyfriends and wearing that cute little skirt.

Maybe it was all the wrong foods I had at home. Being taught that it’s okay to eat Nutella on bread and drink hot cocoa for dinner because it’s less expensive than meat. Being served pasta and pancakes several times a week because it doesn’t cost much to make. Never getting used to eat vegetables and fruits because they were too expensive. And then, at other family members’, eating all the cake, bretzels, buns and other ‘delicacies’ because I knew I wouldn’t have any at home. Maybe it was that. You know there’s something wrong with what you’ve served daily when you use your little amount of (rare) pocket money to go buy apples. Earrings? Clothes? Magazines? Nope. Apples.

But maybe it was also what happened later. Meeting a man. Living with him. Unconsciously starting to eat the same portions as him, because it’s easier to divide quantities this way rather than the contrary, rather than impose your low quantities on him, who needs more anyway because he’s taller (and it’s not hard, being taller than I).

Or maybe it was giving my life away to please others, following them where I didn’t want to tread, and kind of losing myself in the process. Maybe it was getting depressed, staying at home all day long, not having a car or other means to get out of the village, in which there wasn’t much to do to start with. And without anyone to see, without friends around, why dress up like a fashionista? Ending up continually wearing the same old baggy things because they are much more convenient to do the housework and chop wood or something.

Maybe.

Maybe these were just excuses, or parts of the problem without being the whole problem itself. Maybe I also lacked awareness and information regarding what I was doing to myself. Maybe not being happy played a part as well. Come to think of it, my best years were between 18 and 21, the very period when I lost weight without even realizing it, just because my life was interesting enough for me to stop thinking about food as comfort. Or something like this. Why did I ignore it? What was I thinking, how did I manage to kid myself in front of my own mirror, or standing on my own scale or at the doctor’s?

However, I guess I am still to be counted among the lucky ones, so to say. Because it could have been worse. I could’ve woken up much, much later–both in terms of weight and in terms of taking my life back on the right track. It could have been worse, and sad, and sordid. I don’t know. I hope I’ll never know. I am glad I’ve taken things in hands now, and not at 40 or 50.

Why did I get that fat? I have hypotheses, and I can work around those. Some may be the right ones, some may be completely wrong. But as long as it works, as long as I can tread on a healthy path and be the one I am meant to be, I hope all those mistakes will become useful experiences, and not something to cry about.

And how we all got so fat is still an interesting question, in my opinion. Because once it is asked, it makes us think

- Kery

I recently stumbled upon a new blog to read, and as usual, I decided to browse through the archives a little. One of the older posts got me to think about having different food patterns–some people would probably call them “weird”, but I prefer to say “different”.

Until a couple of years ago, I was convinced that I “needed sugar” for breakfast. However, this wasn’t true. I just needed to eat something. I cannot go without a breakfast at all, but whether I have bread and jam or green beans and an omelette really doesn’t matter to me. Actually, I could eat a steak or asparagus for breakfast. Smells of ‘lunch’ or ‘dinner’ don’t bother me, don’t disgust me, and I guess it’s probably a blessing, because nowadays, it means I can toy with more possibilities in a given day. Moreover, it’s easier to get my daily minimum of five fruits/vegetables this way.

Also, as another example, I sometimes happen to eat dessert before the meal itself. (Dessert in my case usually being yogurts, and I don’t put extra sugar/whipped cream/whatever in them, so it probably plays a role in this behaviour of mine.) I know many people who find this shocking or even disgusting, but I figure out that if my family never saw anything wrong with eating Nutella on bread for dinner, then meat at breakfast or yogurt before eating my vegetables can’t be that much of a problem, can it? And like I mentioned in a comment on Crabby’s blog some time ago, I can also brag about having eaten a can of tuna at the gym because I needed protein. (Yes, I’m able to go as far as that.)

Reading the blog entry I mentioned reminded me of that, and of much more. Of feeling confident enough to eat what I want in front of other people, for instance–now I won’t hesitate anymore to ask for a fruit if it’s what I really want, even if there are tons of sugar-laden foods in front of me. Still, I also remember that about two years ago, I blogged here about the feeling of pressure laid on overweight people as soon as they’re seen eating some ‘bad food’ in public. Having different food behaviours isn’t such an easy thing at times. Somehow, we already know that sooner or later, we’ll be judged on them, that people will inquire about them, that some will criticize them as well. Indeed, it takes confidence. Which is something that, unfortunately, often tends to disappear in proportion with the amounts of pounds that creeps on.

I don’t know if this post really makes sense, or where I’m going with that, if I ever had a goal in mind when I started writing it today. I just find it interesting to think about these matters, about how we are judged, about how even a perfectly healthy way of eating will attract attention, in our surroundings that are usually full of junk foods (so much that junk foods seem to become the norm, and normal foods the exception!). Maybe there is a lesson to be learned in that. Maybe it is worth exploring different eating patterns, because–who knows?–having meat for breakfast might actually help you go through the next four or five hours way better than bread or cereals will ever do. (It is my case.)

Anyway, we shouldn’t be ashamed about eating differently. Pass the yogurt, please; it’s high time I start eating dinner!

- K.

• Eating when and what you want

Tags: eating, meals, breakfast, foods, patterns

It’s that time of the year. Or is it of the next year? Tonight, or tomorrow, people will take new resolutions, as every year. And as every year, you can bet that 95% of them will have given up by the end of January, or perhaps February at the most.

Resolutions can be a good thing, as long as they actually prompt you to get started with something, whatever it is, but they don’t work in my case. At first, I thought it was because I was just lazy; in fact, I guess it’s more because I don’t see the point and don’t really understand the purpose of the whole thing. I tell myself that if I can take the resolution to do X or Y from January 2008, then why can’t I do it from December 2007? Or March 2008?

I won’t even try to guess the amount of people who will resolve to “lose weight in 2008″. Again, if it allows them to find the commitment to do so, then it’s all for the best. For me, it just feels like the same old elusive “I’ll start my diet on Monday”, and it’s not like I haven’t had had proofs of this either. Not one week ago, a member of my family told me “I’ll start my diet, but not before New Year is over”. Which to me sounds more like “free license to pig out on food until then, in a Last Supper manner, using the holidays as an excuse” — we’re not a very extended family, and I know that between the 26th and the 31st, this person would not have had to face countless dinners and temptations. (As for me? Well, I did pay attention during those days, and lost a pound from what I had much unfortunately regained. Seriously, why wait for NEXT YEAR if I can get it done NOW?)

Therefore, once again, no resolutions for me. I don’t need to resolve to do something I’m already doing. Lose weight? Exercise consistently? Eat a minimum of junk food, and favour healthy foods? Yup. Already doing it. There are bumps on the road, but there’ll be bumps as well in 2008, after all. Nothing new under the sun. And if my trip along this road is a slow one, I don’t care, as long as I reach my destination with the least amount of hurt as possible (even the way I’m doing things, I run into problems of obsessing over calories and the likes, so what would it be if I were doing some crash diet…).

Oh, I do have “goals”. Not being heavier than I am now by January 2009, for instance. (Maintaining is so much harder than losing, then regaining, then losing again, then… Well.) However, provided I just go on doing what I’ve been doing so far, I know it’s a goal I’ll attain, period. No need to write down a “resolution” for that.

This said, if anyone feels that a list of resolutions WILL help them, then by all means, I hope it will, and that things will work out alright!

Tags: resolutions, new year, weight loss

This morning, upon getting up, I found in my e-mail box the latest issue of Tom Venuto’s newsletter. Although its first article dealt with something I had already decided for myself, it had the nice side-effect of actually reaffirming my commitment.

Whether its a pound or ten pounds, did you ever ask yourself why does holiday weight gain happen at all? Here are some common answers I’ve heard:

“I’m too busy over the holidays to work out as often as usual.”
“I’m more stressed over the holidays, and the food is there, so I eat more.”
“I have at least three parties to attend and then there’s christmas and New Year’s, so it’s impossible to stay on a diet”
“No one can tell me not to enjoy myself over the holidays so I’m just going to eat whatever I want.”

These answers all have a few things in common. First, they assume that it’s an either/or proposition: You can either get in better shape or enjoy yourself, but not both. Stated in reverse: You can either deprive yourself of holiday enjoyments or gain weight, but it has to be one or the other. The truth is, “either/or thinking” is a very limiting form of thinking.

And what have I decided? Exactly that. That holidays would not be an excuse to gorge myself on food I don’t even really want, nor to keep my arse stuck on a chair or a couch all day long. Because my body does not care whether it’s Christmas, New Year or the birthday of the Great Cthulhu. The needs it has all year long remain the same during the holidays. It’s only logical.

Of course, the campus gym is closed until January 7, and I will not be able to lift weights (unless I shell out 10 bucks and go to the gym in my neighbourhood, which, mind you, I am very tempted to go, since I really like strength-training). But nothing prevents me from popping a Walk Away The Pounds in my computer and work out at home, or go talk a brisk walk, or whatever. Christmas does not mean I have to become a couch potato, even temporarily.

Seriously? If I am able to find the time and commitment to stay in front of my PC for two hours on the morning of the 25th before everyone gets up, then I can very likely find the time to do one hour of cardio. It’s all a matter of choosing one’s priorities, and being fit and healthy is more of a priority for me than pigging out on truffles. (I ate some dark chocolate truffles recently; I was very disappointed, because they were way too sweet to my taste. So much for the ‘pleasure’ it was supposed to bring.)

I so totally agree with Venuto on this. We can have fun and enjoy food during the holidays without abandoning an exercise routine and without hoarding food like there’s no tomorrow. Getting up early to exercise won’t be very different from getting up early to check my e-mails before tackling the housework of Doom. And even if I do “only” half a hour of cardio, this half hour will do better for my mood and my body than an extra half hour of sleep or TV or whatever.

Therefore, I commit to exercising at least half a hour every day (yes, even on the 25th or 26th), and to enjoy my food without going overboard, which won’t be too hard, especially now that I have imposed the presence of vegetables on the table. (I will have to relate that tale later, because it’s both hilarious and tragic all at once. No kidding.)

And I already know I’ll actually be happy about it, because for once, I won’t feel like crap during the holidays!

- Kery, determined to not slack off (too much) during the holidays

• Tom Venuto’s Newsletter n°61

Tags: exercise, holidays, christmas, fitness, commitment, excuses, venuto