Starting Weight in January 2004: 315 pounds
Followed a program where I ate 6 times a day with strict guidelines on protein, carbs, veggies, fruit.
Learned a lot about my body on this plan.
Weight in February 2005: 209 pounds
Total Loss for 2004: 105 pounds
The Emotional Explosion: February 2005
Began eating carbs and sugar. Swooped deeply into emotional no-man's land. Wouldn't come up for air for a very, very long time. I now have a much clearer picture of the devastation of diet mentality.
January 2006: Gained 130 pounds in 9 months.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Friday, February 15, 2008
What I'm Eating this Weekend
I just got back from a late-night haunt of the grocery store. There have been too many days in a row of subpar food in my life. How do I know this? Because I'm hungry and never filled despite what I eat. Because not one fast food or dining out option even sounds fun. Because I crave beauty with my food, not just food. Because I can sit for hours perusing a cookbook wishing I could eat this or that or that or this. Because nothing in my life is going quite right and it seems like it is time to get back to the earth, the cycle of life, the nourishing, feeding, joyous, celebration-filled reclamation of meal time. Because I'm hungry deep down to my very toes and I know this kind of hunger will never be filled by mounds of chocolate, chips, sandwiches, or semi-meals. This kind of hunger takes time, patience, and effort to really fill me up.
In that vein then, I went to the grocery store armed with a few recipes and a couple of yummy ideas. And this is what I've come away with:
My Weekend Meal List:
In that vein then, I went to the grocery store armed with a few recipes and a couple of yummy ideas. And this is what I've come away with:
My Weekend Meal List:
- New York Breakfast--smoked salmon on toasted rye bread with cream cheese, cucumbers, tomato and dill
- Broccoli and Cheddar Frittata--an egg and veggie quiche with the sharp tang of cheddar cheese to top it off
- Spinach Salad with Warm Bacon and Apple Cider Dressing--it just sounds yum to me!
- Blueberry blast--a fruit smoothie with blueberries, honey, yogurt and almond milk
- Oven fried potatoes--red potatoes cut in strips and seasoned with paprika, salt and garlic
- Oven baked chicken--a version of fried chicken that is more healthy than harmful and it looks and sounds simply delicious.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Goal Recap--February 2008
My biggest goal for the next few months is Denmark. I'm flying to Denmark at the end of May and I have some very big goals in mind for that trip. I want to be able to fit in the airplane seat, I want to fly without using a seat belt extender, and I want to have the energy to walk anywhere I want to on our vacation without holding myself back or anyone else.
Those are pretty high-minded goals and even I know it.
I think in the past I would have tried to lose 150 lbs. in three months and I would have shut my eyes to the reality of being able to achieve that goal.
I don't want to shut my eyes this time. I actually want to make some realistic goals and achieve them. Most of all I am concerned with being comfortable when I fly back and forth to Denmark and I'm concerned with being active and athletic enough to handle any of the physical demands that are placed on me by this trip.
The last time I flew to Europe in 2004 I was 240 pounds. I felt pretty good on that trip. Not excellent, but pretty good. I had lost about 75 pounds in 5 months on the Provida plan and I was completely gung-ho to lose the rest of the weight. I was very, very strict about my diet and exercise--in fact, I was way too uptight about it. I had very little sense of balance or moderation. Most of my sense had to do with desperation and exasperation. I would go off my food plan--as planned--during that 2004 trip, but what I didn't count on was how quickly the demons would come roaring back to me. I had no idea that simply by ingesting sugar and simple carbs, I would again turn on deep cravings and intense longings inside myself. I was shocked when those feelings returned. It would take more time for me to figure all those feelings out.
But on my 2004 trip, I was pushed physically. We spent several days walking in Paris and London and I had to keep a very fast pace on those days. We also climbed stairs to old castles and hurtled from one subway stop to the next. We were constantly going it seemed and I felt like I was reasonably good at keeping up. In fact, I felt pretty darn amazing because I hadn't been that low in weight or that active since my first trip to Europe in 1998.
On the 1998 trip, I went to Europe weighing 215 pounds and I came home weighing 230 pounds. After that, I quit weighing myself for several years. Essentially I gave up the fight when I came back from Europe in 1998 and I didn't try to take the reins back for several years--at least until I started staring my 30th birthday in the face.
So, this Europe trip, I know I will weigh more than I did on the last two Europe trips. But I also know that the things that will really help me and assist me are my exercise and my food. If I have a good diet--lots of veggies, good proteins, excellent fats--and plenty of exercise, I can certainly improve and alter my chances of enjoying this trip without feeling literally weighed down.
I updated all my stats on the right of my blog today (weight: 343 lbs and waist: 54 inches) and that really helped me to zone in on my goals. I haven't been focused on them at all the last week--I've been fussy and out of focus since we returned from our annual cabin trip. I think just updating the stats and staring reality in the face again for a little while has helped.
My next mini goal is to lose 10-15 pounds in the next two weeks. I'm not pushing for a miracle here. What that really means to me is I want to exercise 6 days a week and I want to plan my food each week. I think if I do those two things that at this stage in the game, I can easily lose that much weight.
I'm also not supposed to be obsessing about the pounds. Yet, that is all this post seems to be about. I guess what I mean right now about not obsessing about the pounds is to not weigh myself every day, but only once a month (or secretly once a week). I don't want my goals to revolve around the scale. I want them to revovle around--exercising daily, eating well daily, studying the scriptures and staying close to God daily, and turning my focus outward at least once a day to focus on someone else. Those are the goals that I want to inform and guide me the next few weeks. I believe if I do those things, the weight will follow.
Those are pretty high-minded goals and even I know it.
I think in the past I would have tried to lose 150 lbs. in three months and I would have shut my eyes to the reality of being able to achieve that goal.
I don't want to shut my eyes this time. I actually want to make some realistic goals and achieve them. Most of all I am concerned with being comfortable when I fly back and forth to Denmark and I'm concerned with being active and athletic enough to handle any of the physical demands that are placed on me by this trip.
The last time I flew to Europe in 2004 I was 240 pounds. I felt pretty good on that trip. Not excellent, but pretty good. I had lost about 75 pounds in 5 months on the Provida plan and I was completely gung-ho to lose the rest of the weight. I was very, very strict about my diet and exercise--in fact, I was way too uptight about it. I had very little sense of balance or moderation. Most of my sense had to do with desperation and exasperation. I would go off my food plan--as planned--during that 2004 trip, but what I didn't count on was how quickly the demons would come roaring back to me. I had no idea that simply by ingesting sugar and simple carbs, I would again turn on deep cravings and intense longings inside myself. I was shocked when those feelings returned. It would take more time for me to figure all those feelings out.
But on my 2004 trip, I was pushed physically. We spent several days walking in Paris and London and I had to keep a very fast pace on those days. We also climbed stairs to old castles and hurtled from one subway stop to the next. We were constantly going it seemed and I felt like I was reasonably good at keeping up. In fact, I felt pretty darn amazing because I hadn't been that low in weight or that active since my first trip to Europe in 1998.
On the 1998 trip, I went to Europe weighing 215 pounds and I came home weighing 230 pounds. After that, I quit weighing myself for several years. Essentially I gave up the fight when I came back from Europe in 1998 and I didn't try to take the reins back for several years--at least until I started staring my 30th birthday in the face.
So, this Europe trip, I know I will weigh more than I did on the last two Europe trips. But I also know that the things that will really help me and assist me are my exercise and my food. If I have a good diet--lots of veggies, good proteins, excellent fats--and plenty of exercise, I can certainly improve and alter my chances of enjoying this trip without feeling literally weighed down.
I updated all my stats on the right of my blog today (weight: 343 lbs and waist: 54 inches) and that really helped me to zone in on my goals. I haven't been focused on them at all the last week--I've been fussy and out of focus since we returned from our annual cabin trip. I think just updating the stats and staring reality in the face again for a little while has helped.
My next mini goal is to lose 10-15 pounds in the next two weeks. I'm not pushing for a miracle here. What that really means to me is I want to exercise 6 days a week and I want to plan my food each week. I think if I do those two things that at this stage in the game, I can easily lose that much weight.
I'm also not supposed to be obsessing about the pounds. Yet, that is all this post seems to be about. I guess what I mean right now about not obsessing about the pounds is to not weigh myself every day, but only once a month (or secretly once a week). I don't want my goals to revolve around the scale. I want them to revovle around--exercising daily, eating well daily, studying the scriptures and staying close to God daily, and turning my focus outward at least once a day to focus on someone else. Those are the goals that I want to inform and guide me the next few weeks. I believe if I do those things, the weight will follow.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
The Pasta That Nearly Did Me In
I read a book this weekend that made me ache for yummy, wholesome, fresh, inspiring food. (A review will be offered later). All I wanted to do was eat something YUMMY.
And the yummy that seemed to be calling my name was: Italian food. And not just any Italian food, but warm, delicious, garlicy, cheesy, tomatoey Italian food. Italian food thats yum factor would shoot be right out of this world.
It was Monday night. Because of being snowed in on our cabin weekend, we didn't get home until Monday afternoon from our weekend, so our Denmark Health Challenge would not resume until Tuesday morning. I figured this was my chance to grab some really super delicious Italian food and not have it count against me on the health challenge.
So, at 9:00 pm that night I went to a little Italian bistro in town and ordered up this:
I was wrong. On so many counts.
The food was actually good, don't get me wrong. Hot and pulsing with flavor, it seemed at first that I had made a very good decision. I was hungry after a long day of little food and a weekend of nauseous illness. I figured this kind of food would really nourish me--deeply and with a rich sustenance. What I didn't count on was the amount of food or my reaction to it.
The gnocchi came piled high on a plate and my first thought was "I can't eat all of this" but before I could even dig in I was distracted by the liquid siren of the creamy tomato basil soup and I gave in. I took some Italian bread and plunged it deeply into my soup and waited a few seconds to let the two merge. Then I slurped that warm, gooey bread and soup into my too-hungry mouth and let little explosions of delight go off throughout my taste buds.
I liked the experience so much, I repeated it quickly--again and again twining the bread and soup and soaking up all of its delicious, steamy tastes.
And then I dug into the gnocchi. I've always been a fan of gnocchi and this one came with a sumptious, nutty pesto sauce. So, I began gorging on it. I knew there was a lot of gnocchi there and I had already indulged in the soup and bread but I just climbed on board for more and more and more.
Until I hit about the halfway point. I'd gobbled up so much pasta and bread that by the time I hit the halfway point on the plate of gnocchi, I was full clear up to my gills. I put my plate down, licked my lips, and fully intended to return to that plate of gnocchi at the next signal of hunger that my body sent out. But I never did.
For shortly after putting the plate down, I began to feel nauseous and ill like I had all weekend at the cabin. And not just nauseous in a slightly queasy way, but nauseous in the can-I-please-throw-up-the-entire-contents-of-my-stomach way. I was begging for mercy. And the headache that accompanied that nausea sent my body discomfort to an all-new high of misery.
Misery. That is the only word I can think of to describe my plight for the next few days. I was miserable and sick and had to choke back the bile every time the thought of that gnocchi entered my mind. Every single time.
Needless to say, I won't be craving Italian for the next little while. Or EVER.
And the yummy that seemed to be calling my name was: Italian food. And not just any Italian food, but warm, delicious, garlicy, cheesy, tomatoey Italian food. Italian food thats yum factor would shoot be right out of this world.
It was Monday night. Because of being snowed in on our cabin weekend, we didn't get home until Monday afternoon from our weekend, so our Denmark Health Challenge would not resume until Tuesday morning. I figured this was my chance to grab some really super delicious Italian food and not have it count against me on the health challenge.
So, at 9:00 pm that night I went to a little Italian bistro in town and ordered up this:
Yummo! It was something about the fusion of flavors with pesto, pine nuts, olive oil and romano sauce that just seemed to make this dish drip with delectability. I ordered some creamy tomato basil soup too and figured within minutes I would be swimming in deliciousness that had only previously been imagined, but not experienced in my life.
I was wrong. On so many counts.
The food was actually good, don't get me wrong. Hot and pulsing with flavor, it seemed at first that I had made a very good decision. I was hungry after a long day of little food and a weekend of nauseous illness. I figured this kind of food would really nourish me--deeply and with a rich sustenance. What I didn't count on was the amount of food or my reaction to it.
The gnocchi came piled high on a plate and my first thought was "I can't eat all of this" but before I could even dig in I was distracted by the liquid siren of the creamy tomato basil soup and I gave in. I took some Italian bread and plunged it deeply into my soup and waited a few seconds to let the two merge. Then I slurped that warm, gooey bread and soup into my too-hungry mouth and let little explosions of delight go off throughout my taste buds.
I liked the experience so much, I repeated it quickly--again and again twining the bread and soup and soaking up all of its delicious, steamy tastes.
And then I dug into the gnocchi. I've always been a fan of gnocchi and this one came with a sumptious, nutty pesto sauce. So, I began gorging on it. I knew there was a lot of gnocchi there and I had already indulged in the soup and bread but I just climbed on board for more and more and more.
Until I hit about the halfway point. I'd gobbled up so much pasta and bread that by the time I hit the halfway point on the plate of gnocchi, I was full clear up to my gills. I put my plate down, licked my lips, and fully intended to return to that plate of gnocchi at the next signal of hunger that my body sent out. But I never did.
For shortly after putting the plate down, I began to feel nauseous and ill like I had all weekend at the cabin. And not just nauseous in a slightly queasy way, but nauseous in the can-I-please-throw-up-the-entire-contents-of-my-stomach way. I was begging for mercy. And the headache that accompanied that nausea sent my body discomfort to an all-new high of misery.
Misery. That is the only word I can think of to describe my plight for the next few days. I was miserable and sick and had to choke back the bile every time the thought of that gnocchi entered my mind. Every single time.
Needless to say, I won't be craving Italian for the next little while. Or EVER.
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