weigh-2-go.org

My posts lately have been newsy, I admit–a bit of a departure for Weigh-2-Go, as my 10 readers will attest. Where am I going with this?

There’s some magical mysterious factor(s) for weight loss that a gazillion people are trying to figure out.
Even people who have lost weight can’t usually articulate these factor(s) well enough to translate their success to others.
Psychologists, coaches, trainers, and nutritionists have systems–and it’s even possible that all of these systems work!–but the issue is not finding a system.
People don’t follow any system until they are ready.
Weight loss is, we must assume, a personal issue–something that happens inside the mind and the heart.

But it’s becoming a national issue. It has captured the nation’s attention that people are dying, and lifespans are shortening, because of weight.

I was talking to Mary Beth, a fitness trainer, about this phenomenon. We call it The Light Bulb.
If The Light Bulb turns on, weight gets lost. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t.

When I lost 82 pounds, it was because my Light Bulb went on.
Three years later, 25 pounds regained, my Light Bulb is off.
It was on and now it’s off, and I’m having a hard time turning it back on.
How can this be?

The nature of The Light Bulb runs counter to conventional wisdom. It isn’t about goal setting, willpower, accountability, or the right nutrition or exercise program.

It’s about seeing who you will become.
That’s the best I’ve got so far.
We don’t have good language for The Light Bulb.

Dr. Phil says:

Close your eyes and visualize yourself after you’ve reached those goals. Use this visualization to feel commitment and inner strength.

To which a few people say, “oooh, yeah, nice,” but most people say, “waaah?!?”
Better is Dr. Phil’s Life Law #1 is “You either get it or you don’t.” This Law validates the existence of The Light Bulb, but it doesn’t provide a switch.

Weight Watchers says:

Imagine yourself having already achieved your goals, and enjoying them.

Visualize the way your Winning Outcome will be experienced, when you achieve it. Use your senses so that you feel how it will feel. Add sounds, smells, movement.

Is that going to work for this woman and her family?
Has it worked for Oprah?
Is this a realistic goal for everybody?
Can a nation visualize itself healthy?

Now that obesity is having a measurable impact on our life spans and our health, understanding The Light Bulb is vitally important. That’s what I’m blogging about.

I got that line from Michael Pollan’s In Defense of Food. It cracked me up.

Just as I was agonizing over the Diet Wars–in which the low-fat gurus battle the low-carb gurus, and neither side has yet emerged victorious–Pollan makes an excellent case that we need not to fight for carbs, fats, vitamins, antioxidants, or any other subset of our nutrition needs. We need to fight for food.

Pollan carefully defines, and defends, food: he means actual plant and animal substances, not processed or refined into foodlike substances. He even suggests that if a product has to make health claims, it is probably not food, but a foodlike substance derived from parts of nutritious substances that came from food.

Foodlike substances shout wildly for our attention.
Now fortified with 10 vitamins and minerals!

No artificial preservatives!

A heart-healthy food!

And the yams, alas, are silent.

In Defense of Food is a couple years old, but the ideas are still cutting edge. One of my next reads will be Pollan’s Food Rules: An Eater’s Manual.

Really?!? (This is not Dawn, nor me for that matter.)

I want to start perpetuate a new catch phrase: “Really?!?”

I think I picked this up from Dawn. When someone doesn’t get the real point, or is hung up on the weaker argument, or comes at an issue with an incomprehensible perspective, Dawn creates a pregnant pause, squints, and then, with just the right hint of exasperation, asks, “Really?!?”

Jenn sent me to this article on MSN:

Fat epidemic linked to chemicals run amok: Fast food not solely to blame for obesity, new research suggests

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/35315651/ns/health-diet_and_nutrition

Notably, the title of the web page, which appears in the browser, reads: “Don’t blame fast food for making you fat.”

In searching for that one, I also found this one:
Stealth Health: Your favorite prepared foods may be getting healthier. You just don’t know it.
http://www.newsweek.com/id/235011
“Forget about fat. What’s really killing Americans is salt.”

Pause. Squint. Really?!?

To my marketing-manager’s eye these articles smack–smack!–of public relations gurus trying to take the heat off fast food companies, and prepared food manufacturers, respectively, for the nation’s obesity problems. They divert attention from the ginormous elephant in the room: the sugar and other simple carbs that make their wares oh-so-tasty and oh-so-profitable.

I am a believer–and a scared one–that chemicals and salt are dangerous. When I read about PVCs and Teflon® I feel like I’m in a sci-fi horror movie.

But the symptoms we’re talking about are obesity and diabetes. The culprit, pure and simple, is sugar.
(The lead “Forget about fat. What’s really killing Americans is salt” forgot to mention high fructose corn syrup.)

Food makers must be developing nervous twitches over the spotlight being thrown on the obesity epidemic, and they’ve sent their PR minions to divert that spotlight to other risky substances. Risky, yes, but the “real” sources of the problem?  Really?

Be afraid. Be very afraid. And be skeptical of the news.

Many thanks to Cyndi for posting on Facebook this link to Jamie Oliver’s TED talk. I was glad to see it.

Jamie Oliver’s TED Prize wish: Teach every child about food
http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/jamie_oliver.html

Jamie’s message is powerful and well timed alongside Michelle Obama’s campaign against childhood obesity. The upshot: One-third of America’s children are obese, and their projected average lifespan is shorter than the generation before them, because of the threats of diabetes, heart disease, and other diet-related illnesses.

After seeing this, I was intrigued when I ran across this promo for a new mini-series on ABC:

Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution
http://abc.go.com/shows/jamie-olivers-food-revolution

The show chronicles Jamie’s hands-on crusade to improve school lunches and community awareness, starting in Huntington, WV, the unhealthiest city in America.

One video clip shows Jamie talking to a mother in her kitchen, across a table piled high with gross unhealthy food. Other clips show him in the schools and on the local radio station, giving talks about nutrition.

I’m going to be interested to see what he recommends for both individuals and institutions. How much of the obesity problem is going to be managed institutionally? How will individuals take up the cause?

This week’s Newsweek contains a series of articles about Michelle Obama’s campaign against childhood obesity. This is a timely and important issue for the First Lady to adopt–one that will surely affect the health–and health care costs–of Americans.

President Obama has issued a memorandum to create a Task Force that will work on: “(a) ensuring access to healthy, affordable food; (b) increasing physical activity in schools and communities; (c) providing healthier food in schools; and (d) empowering parents with information and tools to make good choices for themselves and their families.”

It all sounds positive, but in the American tradition, there will be a partisan debate boiling down to this: who is responsible for the obesity of a child? Do the food lobbies need more regulation, and the schools need better food and exercise programs? Or do parents and children need to take more responsibility for the children’s choices and behaviors?

It’s a complex and essential question. As much as I am a fan of personal responsibility, I believe that foods affect our behavior like drugs, and the effect is increased for children. If my belief is a fact, then it would inconsistent to invoke personal responsibility in our use of food while we regulate and legislate tobacco, alcohol, and narcotics.

Example: Is it realistic to expect kids to stay away from a candy machine in school? Can we fault parents for a lack of control when their kids spend their lunch money on candy? Would food companies voluntarily turn their backs on the schools as a market, for the sake of the nation’s health? Would school districts turn down the money they make from these machines?

I love free enterprise when it works. It works great for magazines, blue jeans, and washing machines. It does not work for addictive substances, assuming we place the highest value on our health and safety.

Yes, I’m the same as everybody else. Believe it or not, that’s an affirmation.

I woke up this morning from a deep sleep and it’s the first thought that entered my conscious mind was: “Stop thinking you’re special.”

• Stop thinking you deserve the cookie Friend is offering to share.
• Stop thinking you can manage your food intake without food journaling.
• Stop thinking you need a biscuit, because today was a rough day–and that it won’t matter.
• Stop thinking those size 10 slacks will fit just fine tomorrow.
• Stop thinking you’re getting away with “sort of” following the program. You’re not.

And with this personal comeuppance in mind, I went straight to the mall this morning and purchased 3 pairs of pants, size 14. They fit comfortably. Sigh*.

I wrote down my food. I packed my healthy snacks.

I’m coming to terms with my normalness.

By many accounts, this is the first step.

It’s a song by k.d. lang: (listen here)

Three days that I dread to see arrive,
Three days that I hate to be alive,
Three days filled with tears and sorrow,
Yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

There are three days I know that I’ll be blue,
Three days I’ll always dream of you.
And it does no good to wish these days would end,
‘Cause these three days start over again.

My three days are yesterday, today, and tomorrow. But mine are a little different from k.d.’s: they don’t start over again.

Mine are the three days I withdraw from sugar.

Once in a while, when I suspect that my body and mind are poisoned by sugar, I go cold turkey for three days. Today was Day 2. It’s not terribly strict–but no wheat or refined sugar. Today I craved granola–the sweetest, crunchiest, nuttiest, most “granola” (i.e., California) kind of granola. I had oatmeal instead, with cinnamon and stevia.

For me, weight loss depends on reducing my appetite. And reducing my appetite depends on lessening the cravings for food. Not hunger, but craving. And for me, the cravings subside when I forget what bread and cookies taste like. Forgetting takes about three days.

That’s right, since my “after”pictures were taken in 2007, about 2.5 years ago, I have gained 25 pounds.

At that rate, 10 pounds per year, I could back to my pre-loss weight by the time I’m 54. Not acceptable.

So, here’s my plan: to lose the 25 pounds I have “found” by Labor Day, 2010. That’s losing at a rate of less than a pound a week. That is acceptable.

I hereby declare myself challenged. The gauntlet is thrown–upon myself. By announcing this to you, my 10 readers, I am accountable.

Let the losing begin.

A couple of weeks ago, I weighed in at Weight Watchers, and the nice receptionist-weigher said, “I see you’re up above your original weight, so I’m just going to reset your starting weight so you’ll get credit for losing it.”

I knew I had gone up. This wasn’t a shock, and it didn’t upset me–yet.

I said, “Oh, that sounds great, thanks.” I always like getting credit for losing more weight. With a click of her mouse, I was reset.

“Here’s your ‘Getting Started’ booklet,” she said. I accepted it reluctantly the same way I accept a receipt from Starbucks. I don’t really need it–half the time I say so, half the time I don’t. I took the booklet, put on my shoes, and went to the meeting.

The following week, the same receptionist-weigher said, “Here’s your Week 2 booklet and your bookmark.” I was incensed.  (You might have to be a WW veteran to understand the bookmark–receiving it is a rite of new WW membership.)

The bitchy little girl inside me wanted to scream, “Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m no newbie! I don’t need no stinking bookmark!” But I didn’t say it out loud.

And that started the eruption. It’s like PMS except it’s about something. It isn’t about the bookmark, or even being reset. It’s about pride in my accomplishments–that is, losing it.

Today I was angry: angry about having to show up to do a volunteer duty I promised. Angry at the cars in my way on the highway. Angry at the guy who didn’t say hello to me. Angry that the errands I had to run hadn’t been run yesterday. Angry at people who wanted to stop and chat politely, when I was in the mood to be rude and be my myself.

I have a theory about anger. Although I do think I have some good reasons to be angry (because real life does induce anger), and aside from the Weight Watchers restart debacle, I believe that my anger might be induced by sugar.

I’ve been eating sweet foods like a goat eats–everything.

And today, the simplest carb I had was a sweet potato. Maybe my body is just pissed off.

To be continued.

When blogs were new, many busy people expected they needed one, but they weren’t sure why, or what to say. (I suspect the same is true about Twitter today.) But because blogging was free and easy (as it remains), they went ahead and started blogging.

Today, among the blogs, I notice a stratification between followers and leaders.

• Leaders are the ones who are blogging naturals. They have unique knowledge or experience to blog about.
• Followers also write useful blogs, but their blogs aggregate other information and comment on other blogs. They may have a unique insight to add, but they don’t generate the  ideas that start the discussion.

When I started this blog, I had a unique experience: I had lost 80 pounds. I felt like a leader.

Lately, my experience is not unique, but common: I’m gaining the weight back. Now I feel like a follower. So, unsure about what to write–or why–I stopped blogging.

But I haven’t stopped writing. It’s been a productive hiatus.

In November, I spent my writing energy participating in NaNoWriMo (I’ll let nanowrimo.org provide the details), for which I drafted a novel about weight loss.

In December, I dealt with a series of unbloggable events, and then the ho-ho-holidays. I journaled, and continued developing the novel.

In January, a big work project hung over me like a cloud. Having lost my blogging momentum, I let it go. But I did resolve to take a vacation in March to get that momentum back.

February–what happened to February? I did take a writer’s workshop where I got excellent feedback on excerpts of the weight loss novel.

Today, the new momentum begins. My mission: to blog like a leader.