Nobody's Perfect

At the very least, I was perfect at accessorizing. 

When I was in third grade, I got a check on my report card for talking too much and I was absolutely devastated.  There were tears and temper tantrums and threats to quit school, which really would have been an excellent stepping stone to a successful adulthood. 

My mom tried to reassure me.  "Taryn, it's okay.  Everybody makes mistakes.  Nobody is perfect."

I looked at her, tears still welled up in my eyes.  "I'M perfect," I said with complete conviction.

Perfectionism has been a problem for me since that day.  If I can't be the absolute best at something or do something 100% perfectly gung-ho, I don't do it at all.  In high school I worked my butt of at English because I was good at it and when I realized I was never going to be a mathlete, I happily cruised by in Math.  First or last, all or nothing, that's just the way it goes with me.

Weight loss for me is the same story.  I'll either track calories like I'm working for NASA, exercise more often than Michael Phelps and drink gallons and gallons of water or I'll sit on the couch and feel bad about myself.  Moderation is not in my vocabulary and I know that it's one of my biggest faults.

One of my best friends goes to the gym every day.  Some days he doesn't even work out and will go to the gym just to sit in the hot tub.  For him, it's more important to be in the routine than to actually do the workout.

This just blows my mind.  Why go to the gym and sit in a hot tub?  Why go and only work out for ten minutes?  If I'm there, I'll wear a heart rate moniter and put the resistance way up and work out for an hour.  Anything else is a waste of time.  If I can't do it 100%, why bother? 

This, my friends, is the kind of thinking that got me in trouble.  I need to throw away this "Oh well, screw it, I may as well eat a pizza and start over tomorrow" type of thinking and just try to have more good days than bad days.  This journey is not a sprint, and I have to remember that.

In fact, maybe I'll head to the gym right now and just sit in the hot tub.  After all, relaxing is something I do pretty much perfectly!

Week One- Goals

This is something I did my first trip down  this weight loss road, and I think it helped a lot.  I'll also make a post on Sundays letting you know how I did on these goals and how much weight I hopefully lost. 

• Gym five times this week
• Walk Coop at least 2 miles a day
• Cook dinner every night
• Drink at least one bottle of water a day

My beloved Chicago Bears lost terribly yesterday and it's going to be a challenge not to mourn their postseason chances by drowning myself in baked goods.  Heavy sigh.  It's hard when Brett Favre has creamed your team with two different uniforms on and also when you very badly want to marry Brett Favre.  Talk about sleeping with the enemy!

On the plus side, I am really going to enjoy Notre Dame firing Charlie Weiss this week.  I have a feeling that between the Bears and the weather forecast (snow, ugh) that watching Notre Dame's upheaval will definitely be one of the high points of the week.

Inspiration Sunday: Anthony Holland

Image courtesy of the Dedham, MA Transcript

Everyone should read about Anthony Holland from Norwich, Connecticut. In one year, he's lost 163 pounds and he's done it through diet and exercise. At 35 years old and extremely morbidly obese, Anthony bought himself a present he knew he'd probably be using soon: his own gravestone.

Wow, that hit home for me. Before I started losing weight, when I was 315 pounds at 5'9'', I was convinced that I was dying. At least once a week, I'd start thinking about how I was going to have a heart attack and then suddenly would begin feeling chest pains. It was terrible. I went to the emergency room twice about it only to be told that my heart was fine and what I was feeling was probably indigestion.

I'd go to bed at night with my deadbolt undone, because I figured if I died during the night, the police and firemen wouldn't have to knock the door down. There were nights that I'd lay in bed and feel guilty that I was dying and my family would probably have to pay for an extra-large coffin. The vision of pallbearers struggling to get my coffin out of a hearse would make me tear up.

I know it was anxiety now, but then I was convinced I'd be dead before I turned 30.  I'd look at my parents and feel terrible for them knowing that they'd be devastated after losing a child.  Part of me knew it was all my fault, and the guilt made me eat more.  That vicious cycle crap is never a fun thing.

Then, on January 24, 2007, I realized that I needed to stop mourning my death that hadn't happened yet and do something to change my life.  It wasn't easy, but I did it.  Miraculously, my "heart attacks" went away, and until reading Anthony's story this morning, I completely forgot that there was a time in my life when I would go to sleep, convinced that I would never wake up.  That's no way to live, and I'm glad I changed.

I feel guilty about gaining 40 pounds back.  It feels like a failure and I'm embarassed by it.  But like Anthony, and like me in January of 2007, I can again take responsibility for my own life and stay on the road to a fit and healthy me.

Full of Grace

I am not what you would call an athlete. In grade school, the only time I scored during five years of playing basketball was in the other team's basket. I've struck out at T-ball.

Actually, rather than write five thousand words about what a klutz I can be, I'll submit this video, taken last year during a cruise, as Exhibit A.



Yes, those are my two sisters making fun of me in the background and getting admonished by a stranger. Yes, they deserved it.

Anyway, I was very nervous about starting to work out, something I had never really done before. And you know what? I was right to be nervous because my first day working out with a trainer, I came really close to fainting and had to sit down on the sweaty gym mat with my head between my knees.

A few weeks later, I fell off the treadmill in a room full of people. I hopped back on, trying to play it off like I was so cool and athletic that I didn't even notice, but man oh man was it hard to go back to that gym the next day.

I also dropped my iPod into the bowels of the treadmill. It took the maintenance staff two weeks to take the treadmill apart and carefully extract it. As you can imagine, they just LOVE me at that gym.

So I'm not exactly gymnast material, but somehow I try to soldier on. My gym has a climbing wall outside for when the weather is not awful, which is for approximately eleven seconds in Chicago, and every once in a while I eye it and think, "Someday I'm going to get to the top of that thing." And I probably will someday, although I'll have paramedics standing by at the bottom, just in case.

What's for Dinner?

I'm going to start posting recipes of the stuff I'm making for dinner.  Most of them are from Cooking Light Magazine, which was like my bible when I was losing weight last year.  The recipes are easy to make and 99.8% of them are delicious.

Also, I'm not one of those cooks who take a recipe and then substitute caviar for tomatoes.  I grew up with an Irish-American mother who's idea of a gourmet meal came from Market Day, so my kitchen skills are limited.  One of my secrets of losing 100 pounds last year was planning meals in advance and cooking a lot, so I want to get back on that bandwagon again.

Tonight I made Monterey Jack, Corn and Roasted Red Pepper Risotto from Cooking Light.

As you can see, I am QUITE the food photographer.  Too bad Gourmet Magazine is going under because I'm sure they'd hire me on the spot.  Also if I were on Top Chef, I'd get kicked off the first week due to my insipid plating and lack of skill in napkin folding.

Anyway, this is delicious.  I love rice and was known in the past for eating entire boxes of Rice-a-Roni for dinner.  This is the best rice dish I've ever had and I've made it approximately a million times.  Everyone I've ever made it for has loved it, including my sisters who are pickier about food than the Wicked Witch of the West is about footwear.

You have to stir it without stopping for 20 minutes.  I know this would discourage some people from even trying it, but I recommend singing rock operas while you stir, namely "Jesus Christ Superstar," "Evita," or in a pinch, "Rent."  That last one is a little hard to relate to once you have a mortgage and a career and stuff, but it still has some great numbers. 

I usually eat this all by itself, but I'm weird.  I think it'd be good with chicken or something Mexican, because it does have a little bit of a kick to it.

Thankful

Yesterday, while the turkey cooked in the oven and the Cowboys game hummed on the television, my dog lifted his leg and peed on the good couch in my parents' living room.

This was his second show of the day.  His matinee performance was taking a dump on the welcome mat directly inside the front door.  Happy Holidays, family!

I braced myself for the screams, insults and tears over the stained upolstery.  Coop cowered in the corner, probably expecting the same. I held my breath and got up to get the carpet cleaner.

"Oh Cooper!  Come here, baby.  What's wrong with you?  What happened, puppy?"  My sister and mom gathered him into their laps, petting him and reassuring him he was okay.  Minutes later, my mom got up and actually gave the dog who crapped in her house and peed on her couch a bone.  This is when I remembered that Cooper can do no wrong in the minds of my family members and breathed a sigh of relief.

No, I don't have a dog who regularly uses my house as his toilet, so I'll be taking him to the vet to see if he's got some sort of bladder infection.  But I'm thankful I have the type of family who reacts with compassion and love when one of their family members stumbles a little. 

And I'm thankful that, at 31, I got carded three times trying to buy wine.  Hey, it might not seem like much but I'll take any compliment I can get!

Gobble Gobble!

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!

My family has never been big on Thanksgiving.  My mom has long claimed that not celebrating the day is her silent protest on having one day to be thankful when people should be thankful EVERY day and not just save it all up to serve alongside gluttony and pumpkin pie.  I have a theory that we don't really do Thanksgiving because she doesn't like turkey, but that's beside the point.

This year, my parents' friends are coming, so the rumor is that we are cooking.  Apparently my mom bought a turkey and a roast.  Knock me over with a feather.  One year we had Tombstone pizza and another we stayed at a hotel, took a nap watching "Batman" on pay-per-view and realized we had slept through dinner at every restaurant within a 20 mile radius.  We ended up eating Cheetos.  Yes, Cheetos on Thanksgiving.  So yeah, a turkey and a roast is a pretty big event for this family.

I'm making crescent cookies, which I think are gross.  They're my mom's favorite.  As a rule I only make baked goods that I can't even taste without wanting to ralph because otherwise the temptation to eat the entire batch is just too great.

So happy Thanksgiving!  I hope everyone enjoys the four F's:  fun, family, food and football.

One Small Step for (Wo)Man

After getting home from work today, I settled in to take a nap, fully intending to get my booty in gear later this afternoon.

When I work up, a million excuses were rolling through my head.  I could literally TASTE a Chipotle burrito, that's how bad I wanted one of those little 1200 calorie aluminum foil wrapped pieces of heaven.  Thanksgiving is this week and then Christmas and why not just make this whole thing a neat little package by starting on the first of the year of the first year of the decade? 

My inner fat girl is a persuasive and very lazy pain in the butt.  But not today.

Not only did I go back to the gym, I did it during "rush hour," something I normally avoid like a CSPAN marathon.  First step is behind me, ladies and gentlemen!  Now all I need is to pick up momentum and I'm back on the wagon, and that's the best news I've heard in a long time.

Ugh

This is a hard one to admit but even after posting my workout stuff laying out perfectly just waiting for me to get my fat butt in gear, I didn't go to the gym.

Heavy sigh.

I got distracted by a bunch of gobbledy goop but that's no excuse.  Procrastination isn't going to get me anywhere in this fight.

Tomorrow is a whole new day and I am going to knock the dust off of my running shoes and hit the elliptical.  That's my promise to you.

In other news, I saw "The Blind Side" last night.  If I hadn't been at the theater I would have had to take to my bed in an avalanche of tears.  Great movie! 

Please root for the Chicago Bears tonight.  They need all the help they can get.

A Single Step

Well, as of today, all excuses, all the "I'll wait until Monday and have one last hurrah by ordering pizza and eating the entire thing,"  all the "Why not wait until after the holidays?" all the procrastinating is over with.

I'm back to the gym!  Once this is all routine again this'll be easier but there's nothing harder than going back to the gym after a month-long vacation. 

I keep telling myself I've done this before and I can do it again.  All of the regrets about gaining back weight are out the window.  The new story begins right now, not in another year when I'm back in the same clothes I was wearing at 315 pounds. 

I'm worth the effort, and I'm worth this journey that begins to day with a single step into the gym.

... but you know, in a perfect world, you'd lose more weight reading a book and eating movie theater popcorn than you could ever lose on a treadmill.

Road Trippin'

Last week, I went on a 2400 mile road trip with only my dog for company.

I realize now that most of you are questioning my sanity, and I have done the same, trust me. I'm not what you would call an animal person. My dog is great and we have managed to coexist for 7 years without murdering each other, but I'm not the type of person who loves LOL cats and pictures of baby otters and stops and talks to random squirrels in the park.

One morning, I realized I had never been on a road trip and thought, "What the heck, I'm 31 and who knows how many chances I'll have to just take off?" So off we went, and it ended up being an adventure I will not forget soon, if only because I'm still feeling a little queasy from eating so much Chic-Fil-A, Sonic and Cracker Barrel on the road.

We went through Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Arkansas, and Missouri. My favorite part of the trip occurred at a Sonic in rural Tennessee on the second afternoon of our trip.

ME: (in my Chicago accent, which TO ME sounds exactly like the people on network news programs sound so is the EPITOME OF NORMAL) Hi, may I please have a number 10?

LADY: Pardon?

Me: (repeats above, slowly)

LADY: (long pause) Hon, are you sayin' TAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY-innnnnnn?

ME: Yes, TEHN. As in one zere-oh.

LADY: (pause, laughter) Hey Mary, come here and hear how she say ZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-row.

SAD Lamps and Weight Loss

I live in Chicago where it's cold and miserable and sunless roughly half of the year. And no, I'm not just talking about the Chicago Bears. Groan.

Anyway, my city is great in the summer and spring but absolutely not fun in the fall and winter. I have a history of Seasonal Affective Disorder, which is basically depression caused by lack of sun in those two seasons. My symptoms in the past have been severe enough for me to leave college (twice!) and require medication. It has been so bad in the past that I have started to dread the approach of autumn and even start getting a little anxious towards the end of August, knowing this season is coming.

2008 was the first time in many years that my SAD was bad enough to require antidepressants. I was in bad shape, barely able to leave my bed. It was hard to find motivation to take a shower, let alone pay attention to my diet and exercise. This bout with SAD started my weight gain last year, so yes, for me SAD is aptly named indeed.

This year I decided to fight SAD before it started. One of the main things that have made a HUGE difference is this SAD sun lamp I was very skeptical when I ordered it, showing restraint that I didn't exhibit when I bought sea monkies, Crocs and countless other rip-offs in the past. But after two months of sitting in front of this sucker for 30 minutes a day, I am a believer.



Comparing this year to last year is like comparing Carole King to Brittney Spears. I feel incredibly great. My energy level is way up and my cravings for awful foods are down. I knew something was up when I went for a walk mid-October and looked at the leaves on the trees changing colors. "Wow, it's really pretty," I thought, and then nearly had to call an ambulance because I was so shocked. Leaves changing in the past have meant that they were dying and winter was coming, and all I had to look forward to was six months of feeling blah. Seeing beauty in that? This autumn has been a whole new world for me.

I haven't gone through a winter with this lamp yet but so far it works way better than I imagined it would. Combining it with regular exercise seems to have combat the symptoms I normally have experienced by now, so fingers crossed it works when Chicago is covered with 13 inches of dirty frozen snow. And no, the lamp doesn't work well enough that I look forward to that, but this year I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, which is definitely a positive.

Tools

Way back in January of 2007 when I decided it was time to get my butt off the couch and lose weight, I knew I couldn't do it alone. Let's face it- you don't get to be 315 pounds by being an expert in diet, moderation and exercise. After lots of trial and error and research, here are some of the things that have worked for me.

1. Weight Watchers Online
Yeah, I had to take accountability for the way I was eating and boy howdy, writing it down sure was a wake-up call. I went to one Weight Watchers meeting but it very much wasn't for me. I'm not really good at sharing in front of a group and some of the tips the ladies shared during that meeting seemed a tad wackadoo to me (for instance, pouring salt all over your restaurant leftovers so you wouldn't be tempted to keep eating them).

The online program works for me. I decided at the very beginning of this diet thing that I didn't want to give up any food that I liked and that I didn't want to cut out a whole section of food just to lose weight faster. I wanted to develop eating habits that I could keep for the rest of my life. By writing down what I was eating, measuring out portions and watching for cravings and patterns, I realized that I could eat basically whatever I wanted just as long as I stayed within limits for the day. This was a big revelation to me as in the past, my diets certainly didn't include ice cream and chocolate!

2. Food Scale

Yes, I felt like a crazy person the first couple of times I weighed out 52 grams of cereal, but the scale is a lot more accurate than measuring cups and a ton more accurate than eyeballing out a cup of something. My eyeballer was wayyyyy off, which may be how my weight got to be such a problem anyhow. Plus, trust me on this, weighing out ice cream is a lot easier than pressing every bit you can into a measuring cup and then scraping it out.

3. The Gym

I was one of those people who would forge notes in high school to get out of gym class. Once we had a soccer dribbling test and my time was something like triple the second worst person's. I am not an athlete. My coordination is right up there with a Jenga game.

That's why it shocked me when I decided to join a gym. I had lost my first forty pounds by going on long walks with the dog, but when my weight plateaued a little I knew I had to step it up. Going in and signing up was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Everyone there was thin and athletic and perfect. I was convinced that they were all secretly watching me and laughing at me, and I had visions of the locker room that rivaled the movie "Carrie." I was absolutely terrified.

A couple of days in, though, I realized that nobody gave a rat's behind about me there. Everyone was there to do their own thing and then get out. Once I realized this, I felt a lot better plopping my big butt on an elliptical machine in front of girls who look like Barbie dolls.

I started out doing Water Aerobics at the gym and moved on to machines and even some classes. My confidence went way up when I realized that hey, I may have run to third base when I finally hit the ball in softball in sixth grade but that didn't mean I couldn't do seven miles on a treadmill. Slow improvements over time and working towards becoming even more fit really motivated me a lot. Working out is always going to be work for me, but I love the way it makes me feel. It's a lot more satisfying in the long run than sitting on the couch and watching Billy Mays sell health insurance from beyond the grave!

More tips in a later post!

Why Inner Fat Girl?

Before picture from the summer of 2006. 300+ pounds.

A few years ago, I was the thinnest I had been since grammar school after losing 100 lbs. The compliments, ladies and gentlemen, were rolling in. Strangers who lived in my building stopped me in the elevator to tell me how great I looked, and I gleefully collected pictures of myself just to study the new-found bones in my clavicle.

Life was grand. I had finally conquered the whole binge eating and morbid obesity thing and considered Lane Bryant and The Avenue as old friends I'd never see again. Portion control and exercise had become a part of my life, as much a part of my routine as googling for news about George Michael or brushing my teeth. Life in the fat lane was in my rear view mirror and I was determined to never look back.

My thinnest weight, 215 lbs, August 2008

One day I was visiting my parents' house and my dad, who has never really been known for his sensitivity, pulled me aside to give me some advice. "Listen, Taryn," he said sagely. "I know you think you've got this weight thing conquered, but trust me, inside of you there's an inner fat girl fighting to get out."

Of course I was hurt. I was a size 14! I could shop at the Gap for crying out loud! My days of eating my way through the value menu at McDonalds were over with. I laughed at him and moved on with my life, but in the back of my mind his words stuck with me. An inner fat girl, fighting to get out.

Well, a year and a half later I've gained back quite a few of the pounds I lost and I know he was right. I'm going to be fighting my inner fat girl for the rest of my life. I'm determined to get back on track and finally reach my goal, not to be thin but to be strong and healthy. My plans are to write about this journey here and hopefully find some cheerleaders to help me along the way.