"Against All Odds"

I had the pleasure of staffing an information booth at the PDX City Parks 5K Run at Gabriel Park in Portland, OR this last weekend.  And, I do mean it was a pleasure.  This was a great place to be reminded of who I am and why I have the goals I do.

First, let me say that I am in awe of folks who dare to participate in life at this level.  Other than running as a child, I have never had an urge to use running as a sport for the sake of just that... running.  When I was a child, I loved running bases and I adored playing Hide and Go Seek, Tag, and other playground games; and of course, as I got older, there was the Catch the Toddler game that every parent has been forced to play.  You know the one... as they dash for streets and ponds and other hideous life defying challenges, you run as fast as you can to try to catch them.  Not nearly as fun as Tag, but it does get your heart pumping at cardio level.

The folks who attended the 5K Run at Gabriel Park all had one thing in common... they wanted to be there, they wanted to run, and they wanted to cross the finish line.  I did not spot a single person there that day who looked as if they had been forced to attend the event; instead they appeared cheerful and ready.

The other thing I noticed was the variety of shapes and sizes and age groups present.  From children to adults, there were tall people and short people; small people and large people; thin people and obese people.  There were young folks and old folks, and given that the entry fee was a mere $5 bucks, I would imagine that the income levels were just as diverse, because it was affordable.

The courage on display, while not flaunted, was, nevertheless, remarkable.  I could barely walk while weighing 316 lbs, yet, here were, not one or two, but, many obese people, elderly people, and unfit people.  There were people of varying abilities throughout the spectrum of human experience.  It certainly fortified my trust and belief in the "against all odds" paradigm.

Extreme acts of courage run rampant throughout our society, yet we often do not stop and observe the immense spirit it sometimes takes to just be who we are.  Take Caitlyn Jenner, who recently was the recipient of the prestigious Arthur Ashe Courage award at this year's ESPY (Excellence in Sports Performance Yearly) ceremony.  This award is intended to honor "people whose contributions transcend sports through courageous action."  ESPN released a statement last month, saying, "This year, we are proud to honor Caitlyn Jenner embracing her identity and doing so in a public way to help move forward a constructive dialogue about progress and acceptance."  

FYI, in case my readers live inside a rolled up sock without access to gossip or news from the outside world, Caitlyn Jenner was once Bruce Jenner, the former Olympic Champion track and field athlete.  She is a lovely woman, who has not only won the Olympic Gold Medal (the highest award given to athlete's for their prowess on the field), but has now also been honored with the highest sports award for courage.  

To me, the fact that Caitlyn Jenner has fully shared herself with the world, despite criticism and controversy, is a stunning act of courage.  She has given yet another strong voice to the transgender community, opening another opportunity for understanding and the elimination of discrimination.  I will always love her for that.  

Yet, for her, the act of speaking publicly while reading from a teleprompter at the ESPY awards took a dual amount of courage; one, because of her fear around her childhood dyslexia, and two, because she is not yet happy with the pitch of her voice and she wanted people to hear what she had to say, rather than observing the pitch of her voice.  Our own inner demons are probably the worst, most poisonous voices we will ever hear.

Like Caitlyn, the obese men and women who showed up to run at the 5K event, regardless of what others might think of them; regardless of what they might look like in others eyes; and regardless of the pain they might feel in their joints, both before and after the event; these people are my heroes.  They are willing to cut through their own fears to live life to its fullest, and by doing so, they both impress and enable each of us to do the same.

  

"The Dreaded Plateau"

It's July 9th and this is the week I am supposed to schedule my knee surgery.  I have not done so yet, and I won't be able to do so anytime soon, simply because I am on a freaking plateau.  I haven't lost one pound for over a month now, which means that I have not come any closer to attaining my doctor's goal for me, which is a BMI of 40.0.  In fact, if truth be told, I have gained 10 lbs since March 24th, which has me at a BMI of 44.6.  Ouch!  (Remember that yo-yo thing we talked about last week?)  

So right now, I am 30 lbs away from my goal.  I've been trying to convince myself that it is all water weight.  My legs are certainly swollen, and have been for most of this last month.  I have also had an excessive amount of pain in my knees while walking... standing, sitting, sleeping,  Both are telltale signs that I am holding excess fluid in my body.  It is also true that I have been somewhat lax about taking my diuretic medication on a daily basis.  Given my history of long, drawn out plateaus, with a sudden drop in weight of 5-20 lbs inside a week's time, my story to myself might even be true.

But what if it's not!  What if I have truly gained this entire 10 lbs, thereby destroying the painstaking work I put into losing that 10 lbs in the first place?  What's going to prevent me from gaining the entire 85 lbs that I have lost so far?  And, more to the point, what will prevent me from gaining another 85 lbs beyond that?

I forget the terror of being unable to draw a deep breath... the pain of attempting to stand and the agony of walking even one step away from my chair.  It is all too easy to forget what life used to be like before the changes that I made to make myself more comfortable in my body.

I spent years weighing 225 lbs.  Regardless of how much weight I lost, I always returned to the 225 lb mark.  That is until I quit smoking and found myself eating my way up to 316 lbs within a year's time.  What is interesting to me is that I actually lost 85 lbs in my twenties... I went from 225 lbs to 140 lbs... and I kept that extra weight off for a number of years.  However, when I did gain weight again, I managed to return to the original 225 lbs, and then gained yet another 85 lbs for good measure.  Imagine!  I actually doubled the 85 lbs I had originally lost, and found a new high weight to settle into.

Sound familiar?  I took off 85 lbs a few years ago, and then gained 45 of them back.  Fortunately, I came to my senses before reaching 280 lbs.  But here I am, having taken off that same 45 lbs (returning to a total of 85 lbs lost) and what is happening?  Again, I ask, what will prevent me from gaining double what I have currently lost (170 lbs), and finding yet another new weight high to settle into???

I am hoping that the answer is myself, even though it hasn't felt like it lately.  I managed to lose the rhythm of my hope, excitement, and yearning for my new knees.  I forgot what it felt like before I lost 85 lbs... I forgot that my new knees are dependent upon a goal weight and BMI... I even forgot how easy it is to regain weight after losing it.

I haven't stopped myself from consuming more sodium than is healthy.  Nor have I followed my weight loss plan... I haven't written in my journal; I haven't posted to my blog; I haven't kept track of my food intake or my portions or the types of foods I am consuming.   Basically, I have not been doing anything to prevent holding the water or gaining weight.  I have not been accountable to myself or anyone else in any way, shape, or form.

So now what?  How do I get back on track?  Believe it or not, my swollen fluid filled legs are a painful reminder of what lies ahead if I totally lose control.  They are my first step in remembering what I do not want to return to.  Memory is the key, I think.  I need to remind myself of why I am on this weight loss journey.

This blog is one of my memory tools... I remember through writing about being obese.   Writing centers me and gives me a sense of purpose that I can translate into losing weight and becoming fit.  So let me be accountable to both you and me.  I will post my thoughts to this blog on a more regular basis.  Hopefully, I will pick up the rhythm of hope, excitement and yearning in the process.

"Once a Yo-Yo... Always a Yo-Yo!"

Wow... My last post was on April 1st of this year. What is that? 94 days ago???  Basically, three months since my last communication. Way too long. It appears that I have let far too many things allow me to neglect the very essence of me... my one true passion... which is writing, and most especially, writing for you!

So without further ado...

So, let's talk about yo-yos. 

You mean the little round toy on a string that Tommy Smothers, the Yo-Yo Man, swings and gyrates and manipulates to perfection? That wonderful spinning toy of tricks where you can learn to Walk the Dog or Rock the Baby or go Around the World? First invented in China... no, Greece... no, the Philippines... suffice it to say that the yo-yo has been around for a very long time, much longer than the Pedro Flores version of the 1920's, which was later purchased by Donald F. Duncan.

No, not that yo-yo, sillies. I am talking about that annoying up and down weight loss/weight gain so many of us experience throughout our lives. Some say, once a yo-yo, always a yo-yo. Sounds pretty defeatist, but there is a certain amount of truth to that statement.  Anyone who has yo-yo'd their way up and down the scales knows that the inevitability of gaining and losing weight is certainly a reality for some of us unfortunate souls. This is not to say that we are defeated before we have even started.

Call it genetics, call it environment, call it loss of self control, or hell, call it bad luck! The truth is, obesity simply happens for a myriad of reasons. I accept that I am an obese woman, with a body shape similar to my mother and grandmother and even some aunts, nieces and cousins. That speaks to both genetics and environment. 

But what about self control? I am a person with an addictive personality, who has a passion for anything that can feed her wild compulsions, thereby, giving her a reason to get up everyday. There was a time that I drank alcohol, until the blackouts took away the pain and isolation I lived within... Hello, my name is Holly and I'm an alcoholic.

Likewise, in my youth, a little drug called speed had a magical touch for making me feel alive inside my body. For twenty years, I smoked anywhere from 2-3 packs of cigarettes a day. Frankly, some of my best writing happened while I was stoned, one way or another... Hello, my name is Holly and I'm a drug addict.

I love the taste of food. I love the rich nuance of flavors and I love the aromatic sensibilities. If this was the extent of my love for food, I would be called a gourmet, a connoisseur of fine food... Hello, my name is Holly and I'm a compulsive overeater.

For many years, I lived my life replacing one addiction with another... alcohol, drugs, food, caffeine... let's not even get me started on my collection of office, art and craft supplies. Some of these addictions have been conquered to the extent that I accepted that I was powerless and worked to relieve myself of their insidious grip on my life. More importantly, I have spent countless hours in therapy and meditation and reading and writing and journaling to discover that my addictions are a melding of my mind and body, attempting to create a safe space for me to fit into. The pain and isolation of repeated abuse teaches many of us to expect nothing from life, and for me, to search diligently for a way to not exist.

So what were we talking about? Ahhh, yes, self control, or the lack thereof. There is a widespread opinion within the addiction communities that we addicts have no self-control. I agree, and yet, I disagree. I have not had a drink in the last 33 years; my addiction to illegal drugs was broken within a year or two of that; it has been 22 years since I smoked a cigarette; and my love affair with caffeine crashed to a halt sometime in the last decade.

I have great self-control once I admit I am powerless over an aspect of my life that is leading me into suicidal defeat AND make a decision to make the changes necessary to respect and love myself enough to don the armor of courage and do battle with my addiction of the moment. Don't I? This is where I disagree with the assumption that we recovering addicts lack self-control. 

Didn't I say I both agree and disagree? Well, yes, I believe I did. My agreement lies in the endless ways I am able to exchange one addiction for another; given that I have never been actually totally free of addiction and compulsion, I would venture to say that my image of my own self-control might be skewed.

What does this have to do with being a yo-yo, endlessly bouncing up and down the weight scale? You tell me. I think the answer is as individual as we all are. For me, my addiction to food allows me to be a yo-yo. We all have to eat to survive, so it is impossible to mark our calendars with the date we last took a bite of food, in the same way as we can with our last drink or cigarette. Conquering a food addiction seems to be a never ending task that works one day and not another day.

Personally, I choose to refrain from the use of the word, never! I will never go back... I will never be fat again... I will never eat anything unhealthy, ever, ever, never! To do so would make me a liar, over and over and over again. I prefer to allow myself the courtesy of one day at a time. Today, I will not take a drink. Today, I will not smoke a cigarette. Today, I will eat like a sensible person.

Yes, I am an alcoholic, a drug addict, a compulsive overeater, and a dog-gone yo-yo, but I believe in choice. We always have a choice to make sense of our lives and defeat our demons. Don't get me wrong. I need to remind myself often of this ability to choose, but the choice is always there.