Nathalie's Notes

Virtual weight loss

It should be noted that I haven't lost any real weight yet. I have, however, dropped some mental baggage since I saw the virtual weight loss picture of me minus 35 pounds.

The ugly truth about losing weight is that if you're doing it sanely, it's a lot of effort for little to no instant gratification. It's also about having faith that if you keep at it, the rewards will be bigger than wearing a smaller size, a swim suit in public (maybe even a snazzy Speedo!), or not having to use props on your lap to sit comfortably in the company of others.

That faith part is tough for me because even though I lost a good chunk of weight before my wedding, I never really lost it. It comes back and hangs out for a few years, then goes away and comes back ... so I really don't know what it feels like to loose it for good.

I've used pictures to motivate me before but they were either a) pictures of a thinner me back in the height of my bulimia or b) pictures at my heaviest that make me cringe.

Neither of those work for me because in the first case, I'll never be that girl in skinny jeans who can party all night, eat junk food, puke it up and get decent grades again. And I don't want to be, except for the cute jeans.

In the second case, anything that makes me cringe isn't a good motivator. When I feel like shit about myself, I want to eat Nutella out of the jar.

I was flipping through one of Amy's magazines when I found the site for this virtual weight loss thing where you upload your picture and enter a few stats and then get this picture of yourself back, minus your goal weight.

Before I could talk myself out of it, Amy took a picture of me and we uploaded it. Before I read the fine print. Next thing I knew, I thought I was being punked by someone on Facebook because I was being instructed to sign into my Facebook account to see my picture. Oh.My.God. I deleted the "before" picture from Amy's camera chip, desktop and recycle bin and here it was about to be on freaking Facebook?!?

Luckily, I didn't have a coronary and the setting is private (I'm hoping) and it was worth the stress when I got the "after" picture back a few days later.

"This is me." I thought when I looked at that after picture. Me in my clothes today. And that works for me.

Damn food journal follow up

How are we doing on the food journal front folks?

I got a few phone calls and e-mails to let me know I'm not alone in being over the whole self-loathing thing; and ready to try something different than hopin' and wishin'.

So, I'll fess up first. Three days into keeping my food journal, I misplaced it. Somehow, though, just doing it for three days got me taking mental notes until I found it again this morning. (Under my car seat, let's not look too deeply into that one).

My favorite entry in those three days, though, is this:

"3 cookies -stress eating over how fat I feel. WTF?!"

And second place:

"1 drink, wanted 10, +184 calories"

The food journal is working in the sense that it's getting me thinking about what I'm eating, and why. I'm only writing calories down when it's convenient because looking that stuff up is the thing that leads to me to deciding this food journal thing is fine for others, but it doesn't work for me. To illustrate how many times I've attempted to keep one, the one in my purse now has an entry dated August 7, 2006.

Okay, I've found the thing and am back on board as of this morning. What was interesting to me over the weekend is that even though we were out of town, I managed to do alright on the crap food front. I think there's really something to that virtual weight-loss motivation thing because I could see that picture in my head and that person in the picture wouldn't pig out at every possible opportunity.

I tend to "treat" myself whenever possible, so when Matt's aunt wanted to share a cookie, I was like, "share a cookie? What on Earth?" But I agreed, and immediately started figuring out how to get my own cookie. I planned to buy one to share and one to inhale before I got back to the table. As I was ordering the cookies, I pictured me minus 35 pounds in my head and decided to share the cookie, and here's the cool part, without feeling bad about it. It was a good cookie and I should stop writing about it 'cause now I'm kicking myself for not smuggling one home.

More fun fitness facts I learned about myself this morning at the stupid gym: I burn more calories with an ipod; I listen to music I would judge other people for blasting in their car. (I am such a jerk!)

When thinking's not enough ...

I tried Zumba today. I know it sounds like something you'd find between Red Bull and Rockstars at the gas station but it's actually a new class at the stupid gym.

It didn't suck. I spent most of the time trying to keep up but eventually I forgot to worry about how I looked in the mirror (all 84,000 of them) and start having fun. Fun + working out = crazy talk. But it actually kinda was. I even laughed a few times. At myself, but whatever.

I realized this week that I'm still in the "obese" category. I don't know why I put it in quotes because according to all the charts and BMI calculators, it is what it is. I just can't believe it. Still! All that thinking about working out and all that thinking about eating healthier and nothin'!

I'm going to try something different. No promises, only a commitment to try a few new habits for a month:

• keep a damn food journal

• try this virtual weight loss motivation thing - this picture here is supposedly me minus 35 pounds. What I can't figure out is while they were doing all that--uh--fixing, why not just take out the extra chin?

• less crap food. Not none, just less. I've already fallen a little off that one since Matt and I raided Sam's Easter basket last night.

Unexpected gift

 I got an unexpected birthday gift this year from a complete stranger.

Raise your hand if you don't have some sort of body-image issue. I know, right? I've spent the better part of my life battling bulimic tendencies and, you know, your basic grade self-loathing.

I was in Yoga class recently and while everyone else peacefully practiced their poses, I tried not to fall on my ass while glaring at my reflection in the mirror. Yes, I know, how very Zen of me. I was about to launch into my whole mental berating deal when it occurred to me that I was done with that. I deserve, we all do, to enjoy my body and this life I'm so blessed with.

The only thing I've done differently since that moment, though, is just go easy on myself mentally. I haven't, like, gone to the gym or anything crazy like that. 

Shortly after that experience my friend called to tell me she saw a sketch of me from the last Northwest Author Series event. I looked and looked at the picture but couldn't see myself at all. Even as Emily described the girl in the picture I kept looking for me because the girl in the picture with my earrings, my shirt and my pen in her hair looked like someone else. Like someone who wouldn't hate her reflection in the mirror. 

When I realized it really was me and I saw myself through a stranger's eyes, I felt this moment of peace about myself I wish I could keep forever. Maybe I will.

Thank you Leigh, for your lovely sketches and for your permission to post them here. For more of Leigh's work click here.

Olympics: the ultimate in reality tv

I was aware Olympics Season was approaching but when I hopped on my Google Machine this morning I saw the cute little icon reminding me today was the big day.

Which is kind of a problem for me because I had this idea the other day to use the Olympics to kick off my Operation Self Health plan. It was just an idea. I figured I'd plan more specifically when it got closer to Opening Ceremonies time. Tonight is sooner than I'd intended but what the hell. No time like the present to focus on wellness. I really can't have my kid eating kale, tofu, kelp and brewer's yeast while I do nothing different nutritionally. Can you say hypocrite? Sam, by the way eats those things without batting an eye while I try not to make faces as I feed them to him.

The thing about the Olympics is that for me it's always been something other people watch. Sure, if the Olympics are on TV when I walk into the room I might watch for a few minutes but I've never been really into it.

Also, in the past it's been kind of annoying that there is nothing else to watch on television during  Olympic Season. Scandals aside, it just hasn't been my thing.

Until now. For some reason, I got to thinking about how amazing it is for these athletes to have their hard work and training lead them to this opportunity of representing their countries and competing in the Olympics.

It's hard not to be inspired when you think about how much passion, sacrifice and energy these people (and their people) put into making this dream a reality. I think the difference between people who succeed at reaching their goals and those who don't is the getting up every day and going after it. Again and again until your belief in yourself and your hard work yield the desired results. Hoping and wishing didn't get these athletes to Beijing, and it won't get my book(s) published or lower my body mass index. Perseverance, however, will.

All that is to say, thinking about these Olympic athletes who have lives, families and jobs of their own, makes me realize that I have more time than I've been willing to admit to dedicate to maintaining one of my most blessed gifts - my health.

Using the Olympics as a source of inspiration, I will have thought of a specific goal or two to focus on during Olympic season. Anyone care to join me?

Now, this is reality TV, people.

Saboteur Quiz

I was in a TOPS (Taking Off Pounds Sensibly) group last year that really helped me work toward some of my health goals. One of my favorite things about the group was when I got to do the lesson of the week. For my first one, we addressed the issue of "saboteurs." Anyone who has ever publicly announced their intentions to loose weight or get in shape has dealt with at least one person who seems to be subtly sabotaging your efforts. It could be well-meaning, misguided friends, or it could be people with jealousy issues who can't stand the thought of you being successful. Either way, it's an issue to deal with regardless of what personal goal you're trying to accomplish. I'm working on turning this lesson into an article. It'll include this quiz. I'm curious to get your thoughts on it. Actually, what I need to know is if it comes across the way I intend it to. As always, if you'd rather not comment on the blog, email me your thoughts. I'll post the "answers" and the consensus later. Promise.

1) Your husband brings home an extra large, pepperoni and sausage pizza. Assuming you're not a vegetarian, what do you say to him?

a) Thanks for picking up dinner, but I’ve already prepared a tofu stir fry with organic vegetables.

b) Enjoy one slice of pizza and load the rest of your plate with salad or other vegetables stocked in your crisper. Ask him to get a ½ veggie pizza with less cheese next time.

c) Why? Why do you hate me? There you go again trying to ruin my diet! You could stand to loose a little weight too you know.

2) Your best friend, who you secretly think should consider putting on a few pounds, invites you out to your favorite restaurant for lunch to celebrate your weight loss success.

a) You suggest going to the newest juice bar in town and drink juice for lunch.

b) You tell her you’d love to but you’re trying to stay out of temptation’s path and offer to meet her to shop for a new outfit instead.

c) You tell her she’s too skinny and selfish and doesn’t understand anything. And that you thought she was a better friend than that.

3) Your co-worker makes comments about your new diet that make you feel bad.

a) You barely notice because you are the most serene and are impervious to having your feelings hurt. Your morning mediations make you feel so grounded you’re just certain everybody loves you and you love everyone.

b) You talk to another, neutral, friend about it and discuss a strategy for letting your co-worker know she is hurting your feelings.

c) You read the want-ads at lunch, muttering to yourself that the universe is unfair and everybody is against you.

4) A well-meaning parent brings cupcakes in to the office for her child’s birthday. They are chocolate fudge, your very favorite.

a) You pass on the cupcake, there will be others. Instead you munch on the essential fatty acid balls you have stashed in your drawer for just such occasions.

b) You take it graciously and eat half of it, it is your favorite after all. You throw the rest away, burying it under something gross because you know you’re not above pulling something back out of the garbage in a moment of weakness.

c) You tell the parent you are damn sick and tired of people pawning their calorie-laden treats on you.

Not to be all Bridget Jones but ...

I've never been so damn glad to be overweight.

I've been trying really hard not to be all Bridget Jones about this but I have a personal milestone to celebrate. It might be rare to hear someone celebrate being overweight, but today, I am.

I'm not exactly sure, how it all started but it might have something to do with the fact that I've been slowly gaining weight since my freshman year in college. I used to pretend it had to do with the fact that around that time, with the help of a good friend, I'd finally stopped puking my carbs. But I didn't start eating healthier or moving my ass beyond the essentials of getting to class and back. And that was on the mornings I could be bothered to roll out of bed.

The first time I heard the word "obese" applied to myself, I was furious. It came from my dad who was being a doctor and a dad at the same time. The two don't always mix so good. We were talking about my fast-approaching wedding date and some details and things left to do. My dad mentioned that he hoped I was working hard to loose some weight because I'd become obese and he wanted me to feel as good as possible on my special day. When I responded with a few choice, angry words, he told me he was sorry, but that it's true and no one else was going to tell me but I needed to know so I could do something about it. What I did about it was stay pissed at him for a long, long time. (I did happen to loose weight for the wedding but since it was a date-specific goal, you won't be surprised to hear it was back in no time since I'd changed virtually nothing about my lifestyle. Well, I did keep my subscription to Shape magazine.)

A year after that conversation with him, I went to the doctor's office for something and studied the chart above the scale as they took my weight and height measurements.

"Is everything okay?" The nurse asked.

"Um, no. This chart here says that I'm obese?" I was sure there was an error, either in my calculations or a misprint on the chart printed by the Center for Disease Control. I fully expected her to say, "oh, no, there must be some mistake, you're fine." But instead she nodded in agreement and suggested I talk to the doctor about some ways to work toward a healthier lifestyle. Hmm.

Nope.

I stayed in denial like that for a couple more years before I got the point where I realized how much healthier I could be, how much more my body could do and how much more of life I could enjoy if I would stop pretending I didn't have a problem, and start dealing with it. So even though I'd stopped the tell-tale actions of a bulimic, the mind-fucking never stopped.

So last summer I started riding my bike and swimming with Steph and Amy and learning to actually like exercising. Little amounts of time at first and then longer and longer. (Okay, like might be a lie. But I did love the feeling of having had exercised.) Amy, with her background in nutrition and exercise, coached me to the point where we were even running. Which I still hate, hate, hate. And even as I re-read that, I do not believe that I actually ran. (In high school, during tennis practice I used to duck into the bushes and wait till everyone was done with their mile and then re-join them on the courts. I liked my approach of "proper ball placement. You run.")

The thing about battling bulimia and trying to adjust to a healthier version of yourself is that there is no immediate gratification. Most of the people in your life aren't going to give you a high-five for making it out of the grocery store without buying candy hearts (which I've done three times this week, thank you very much). And the pounds seem to just creep off. But one day you look back and realize, damn! I am moving in the right direction. Today I entered my stats and am officially out of the obese chart! That still leaves a lot of work to do to get out of the overweight camp but I know that I can do it. If you're interested, you can look up your Body Mass Index here. I suggest that only as information and not to make you feel like shit about yourself because that, of course, is so not helpful. I would suggest using it as more of a marker to gauge your goals from this point forward instead of beating yourself up for how you got here. Please cut and paste this into an email on the days I forget to remember that!

Note: I found this in my draft box. I was sure I'd posted it. This was written January of this year ... with pregnancy weight, things have changed again. I have chosen not to do the BMI calculator because it's not like I'm going to diet or anything right now. Besides, Banana Chocolate Milkshakes do have redeeming value, hell, there was even a recipe for them in Fit Pregnancy magazine. I'm working on an article about eating disorders and pregnancy and intend to post about that soon. Also, I wonder if it means something that I can't even spell exercise.You guys wouldn't believe how many different ways I wrote it before my pal Spell Checker was consulted.

Bulimia Brain

Bulimia Brain is how I define the constant stream of thoughts in my head around food, the obsession with self-control and the desperation and frustration that comes with setting myself up for failure and then being surprised to find I've failed.

Though it's been years since I was a practicing puker, the feelings don't go away and as of late have been growing stronger and driving me nuts. I actually thought I was "over it." Now I'm realizing that recovering from bulimia is not unlike alcoholism, in that it's never over. You don't wake up one day and go, "Huh. I'm done with that, no more temptation, no more mental anguish." Instead it's more like psychological warfare and you do your best not to give in to the darker pull coming from the recesses of your brain. And you make better choices, as often as possible. Humor also helps. Hence the name "Bulimia Brain." It might offend some, I suppose, in which case this blog is so not for them. Otherwise, take it as I mean it: humor as coping skill.

Bulimia Brain manifests in other ways as well. Consider this post I started working on back in April: It occurs to me that even though I'm not puking after meals anymore, the bulimia actually never went away. It seems to have surfaced in my approach to housekeeping. I am totally all or nothing about it. Either I clean the whole house and am scrubbing for hours, alphabetizing spices (this could be a touch of OCD mixed in with the aforementioned BB) cleaning out drawers, getting down and dirty with the shelves in the refrigerator, or I'm doing nothing. Balance? Not so much. And I go in binges, some weeks you might come over and be impressed by the "menu" on my fridge. Upon further examination you'll notice it was from two months ago and not only hasn't there been a new menu since then, there's been no meal cooked either.

Revolving Resolutions

Besides feeling defensive and mentally defrosting, I am working on accomplishing some life-long goals this summer. Year after year after year, as demonstrated here, my New Year's Resolution list includes some variation of "lose weight" and I've never really done that. The only time I remember being even remotely happy with my physical appearance was on my wedding day because I worked my ass off going to the gym most mornings and to kickboxing classes, etc. to get into my dress. I still remember when one of the coworkers saw me on the sidewalk one day and said, "Oh my Gosh! Where's the rest of Nathalie?" (Go ahead and classify that in this category: What not to say!) Anyway, it's kind of sad that I could work that hard to fit into a dress for one day, even if it is an important day, and then not be able to keep up on being healthy for something as major as my health.

December 31, 1990

1)Be happy & cheerful 2) Make other people happy & cheerful 3) stop drinking 4) stop thinking & attempting suicide 5) loose weight 6) be healthier 7) work harder at tennis 8) Carpe Diem

December 31, 1991

1) Be happy 2) Don't argue back 3) Get a job 4) Get over $300 back in bank 5) kick hardcore tennis ass 6) Love my friends 7) Love myself 8) Love my family 9) Be loyal to R. and make him happy 10) Write a Novel 11) Get in the paper 12) Collection of my poems 13) get my license  14) exercise lots 15) Be healthier 16) Get spiritual - religious 17) Raise grades 18) Don't be so bitchy - Raise Grades - Organized

December 31, 2000

... and for my favorite New Years Eve tradition - resolutions and dreams for the New Year! 1) An area of my life I fell short is my health - taking good care of my body. I am getting pretty chunky. D. thinks I'm full on FAT but I believe I'm going to turn it around before i get there.

heart-shaped heroin

I've been doing pretty well with my new "food plan" (euphemism for diet). You know, nothing crazy like cutting out sugar completely, but consuming much, much less crap. Until today. Today I fell off the bandwagon and got ran over by the back wheels. So I'm shopping at Winco, just a couple things until payday, right? And I'm cruising along, cart full of healthy things like spinach, broccoli, kiwis ... and then suddenly - hark! I'm face-to-face with my health nemesis: heart-shaped heroin. (You might call them Sweethearts).

Okay. I can handle this. If I deny myself, that could get ugly and result in binging on something else. (Remember, this is the reasoning of a recovering sugar addict). So hey, it's on sale, I'll just take a few scoops. No big deal. I am salivating as I hurry through the store. (is it a sign that the Indigo Girls "Shame on you" just came on the radio?) I realize that this is because I can't wait to get out of the store and eat my precious candies. It is, after all, our annual reunion. But this year is different. This year I won't eat box after box and then beat myself up for it, and then console myself with yet another box. No, this year will be different.

But, alas, it isn't. I am in the truck, eating handfuls at a time, ducking a little so no one I know sees me. Because this is the behavior of a normal person, right?!? I decide to read an article in the latest Oprah, and coincidentally(?) flip to an article about a doctor who fights obesity in children and I'm at the part about how this doctor waged war on her own weight. I shove another handful of the hearts in my mouth and turn the page to the part about how she had a reality check when her brother's diabetes got so bad, he took his sock off and his heel came off, bone and all.  I nearly choked on my mouthful as I gagged. The twisted irony not lost on me, I decided to throw the rest of the bag away as soon as I saw a garbage can. After just one more handful.