Not Fat Enough

This weight loss scheme of mine has been working tremendously well—for my husband. He has lost all of the weight he gained during my pregnancy and has delighted in being able to wear all his slim fitting shirts again. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t working for me also, but I’ve become frustrated by how long it’s taking for me to lose the weight I want to lose. There are a couple of bits of denial I’d like to own here:

1. I did gain fifty-seven pounds during my pregnancy and no amount of earnest wishing is going to take them away overnight, though somehow I believed that’s how quickly it would happen.

2. I started out so diligent with counting and tracking my Weight Watchers points daily—a key element to success in the program, in my experience—but have of late allowed for some slacking in this area.

3. Walking to the park, the store, and the farmer’s market from the Bahn station probably doesn’t constitute a proper workout, something I’ve been wanting to believe since I moved to Berlin.

Probably the most shocking of all my lapses of reality lately was believing that I don’t look as large as my actual weight—which, if you’ve ever met me or any other woman, you’ll know never to ask me about the specifics of that number. I went to the theatre last week and found myself in the front row. The production included multimedia elements and during several moments, a live camera was focused on the audience. The feed was then played on several TV monitors on the stage, facing outward. When I located myself on the monitors I was horrified to discover that the actual width and roundness of my body was in great contrast to the cute, petite thing I was sure I had admired in the mirror just hours before. I realize the camera adds ten pounds or so, but this was well beyond lens fluffiness. What was particularly unnerving was that I was wearing the outfit I wore when I wanted to look trim and fit. I truly believed that in those garments, no one could tell that I was thirty pounds overweight. What I saw on that monitor, however, told such a dramatically different story that I went into a bit of a sweaty, panic. The camera was still on me (so clever of me to sit in the front row, eh?) and of course I had to continue to smile—my full, ballooning cheeks turning bright red. Thankfully and surprisingly, my stopgap here was to remind myself that I’d given birth a mere six months ago. Yes, some women lose all of their baby weight within the first couple months of breastfeeding, but I’d heard that there was this other lot who only ever lost weight after breastfeeding ceased. I suppose I am in that contingency, and seeing as I’m still breastfeeding, it’s no wonder the weight is still on! For all my kindness, though, I left the theatre feeling small—in self-esteem only.

But as I mentioned above, my weight loss scheme is working, even with breastfeeding. I have lost weight and continue to lose or maintain what I’ve lost each week. As of last Friday, I’ve lost nearly twelve pounds since early January. That’s not such a grand number for going on three months of dieting, but for nursing mothers (and casual walkers,) Weight Watchers will have you lose it slowly. So what’s my damage, you may ask? Here it is:

I really miss my pre-pregnancy body.

I’d worked really hard in the past few years, pre-pregnancy, to concoct a healthy eating plan that allowed me to maintain my weight. I’d also started running and had gotten into the best shape of my life—something that I really let slide during my pregnancy. In my pre-pregnancy body, I’d always claimed that I was ten pounds away from my ‘ideal’ weight, but truly, I was happy with myself. I miss the clothes that were worn on that body, now tucked away in suitcases under my bed and sullenly hanging in my closet next to dreary maternity-wear. I’m ready to put my ‘full-panel’ stretch jeans away and am saddened by the prospect that I’m not even close to doing so. It all makes me want to eat some chocolate. But of course, I cannot. Well, I can, actually, just not the self-medicating portion I would prefer.

Where to go from here: Let me assure you that I’ve been here before—on a diet, trying to lose weight—many a time. Perseverance is the only solution. This week, I’m attempting count and record every point of food I eat. As far as exercise is concerned, I’m using the start of spring to begin running again (by the way—it’s not spring yet, no matter what the temperatures say—spring starts when we get back from vacation mid-April, thank you very much!) Tonight I had just two pieces of dark chocolate instead of four, the self-medication equivalent of a Flintstone vitamin.

My husband is the biggest supporter of my efforts in every single way imaginable. He often makes dinner and weighs all of our food on the kitchen scale so I can calculate the points. Without even asking him, he portions out things like butter and oil in his cooking so it’s easier for me to keep track of what we’re eating. Probably the most valuable thing he does is let me know that there is someone that thinks I’m beautiful even if I have my serious doubts. He’s militant, in fact, about not letting me bemoan my proportions.

When I came home from the theatre last week with concerned questions about the figure flattering capabilities of my alleged ‘skinny’ outfit, I asked Nicholas a question most men would shudder to answer:

“Does this top make me look fat?”

With a loving smile and without hesitation, he turned to me and said,

“Not fat enough”








Photo: Me, River City Half Marathon, Sacramento, California, 2010, Pre-pregnancy.

Results Not Typical

Three weeks ago, my husband and I started eating healthier and less. As you may have read here, we’re doing this by following the Weight Watchers program online. Among other features, the Weight Watchers website has a ‘Success Stories’ section which includes pictures of people who have lost a significant amount of weight on the program and how they did it. There is always a disclaimer alongside each success story:

“Results Not Typical”

Every time I see the disclaimer, I question if I have what it takes to lose the amount of weight the ‘successful’ person shown has lost. I’m afraid that when it comes to weight loss—and gain—I’m dreadfully typical. I tend to gain weight if I eat too many processed carbohydrates, if I don’t exercise, or if I’m going through some sort of transition (i.e. the ‘freshman fifteen,’ or as I demonstrated, the ‘freshman thirty.’) I tend to lose weight for impending events where I’d like to look trimmer, when I’m exercising consistently, or when I have a lifestyle that supports healthy habits (i.e. I’m not living in a dorm room.) I’m using the college scenario as an example because I think it’s generally relatable, however let me assure you that in the twenty years since I graduated college I’ve experienced far more interesting moments of transition and lavish styles of unhealthy living. In any respect, these are considered typical scenarios by which to lose or gain weight according to most of the people I know.

I reckon that the amount of time I’m able to maintain a weight loss is also typical. People who’ve lost a significant amount of weight and are able to keep it off for ten years, let’s say, can be suspected of being atypical. I find this especially true if they are able maintain their loss through the holiday season. Even during my longest maintained weight loss—which I’m proud to report ended after three years and only with becoming pregnant—I always allowed myself to seriously indulge from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day. I’d begrudgingly get back on track in January, full of pain and self-loathing. But as difficult as those first days back to eating right and exercising might have been, they were always worth the bacchanalian escape from reality that was the holiday season. Typical.

I’d guess I’m typical in how many times I’ve started and stopped Weight Watchers. In 2002, I experienced a decent weight loss on the program. I participated then by going to meetings, versus online. Aside from the weight loss inducing fear of having my weight recorded by the meeting leader each week, the best part about he meetings is receiving awards every time you reach a milestone in pounds lost or in attendance. That’s right, even by just showing up, you’re a winner. Weight Watchers is gentle with you in that regard. Thusly, after having attended meetings for sixteen weeks, I was given a small, gold-tone charm in the shape of clapping hands, engraved with the number sixteen. The charm can be attached to other award items that I would receive in the future or, if I wasn’t so darn typical, I might have already received in the past sixteen weeks on the program. Regardless, it was like earning the Girl Scout merit badge for meeting attendance. It bolstered my efforts to lose weight, attend meetings, and earn trophies. It kept me on a roll for a while. Until, as is typical, it didn’t. My weight loss stalled and I stopped going to the meetings. As the pounds crept back on, I gave up all hope of procuring more gold toned trinkets. Months later when I finally found my way back to a Weight Watchers meeting, it was strange to still have my clapping hands charm.

I thought, “I had earned it once, but should it not now be revoked? I know that they’ll give me another charm after sixteen weeks and what purpose will it serve to have two? Won’t it just remind me of the time I suddenly quit after attending for an impressive four months?”

My weight was recorded and I handed my clapping hands charm to the meeting leader, still wrapped in its plastic sheath. She was confused that I would give back such a prize. I felt a little silly and self-righteous explaining to her how it didn’t feel correct for me to keep it as clearly it was an honor for someone with less typical results.

Since that attempt, I’ve experienced several more beginnings and hiatuses and have received more awards. I earned the clapping hands again and even the coveted key chain award for having lost 10% of my weight—this is where the clapping hands charm is meant to attach. Sadly, now that I find myself heavier than I’ve ever been, these medals of valor seem aged and distant like a high school letterman’s jacket. The perfectionist in me envies the ultimate ‘Success Stories’ inductee who receives her trinkets in the reasonably allotted time frame and never looks back. She stays motivated until she has earned a key chain of triumph, laden with charms—Sixteen Weeks! Twenty Pounds Lost! Goal Weight! Maintenance Maven*! Lifetime Member! To Weight Watchers’ credit, it’s clear from their disclaimers that the individual who would earn her commendations in such an orderly fashion is not recognized as typical.

These days, I follow the Weight Watchers program online. For better or for worse, I am free of the accoutrement awarded at the meetings. The other day, however, I did notice a star emblazoned with “5!” in a small box at the bottom of my ‘weigh-in’ page on the site.

“Could this be an award?” I mused.

When I first signed up in October, I wasn’t really prepared to start in earnest (read: wasn’t prepared to change the size of my desert portion,) but I did record my weight twice that month to keep track of what my body was doing. In surprisingly atypical fashion, my weight dropped five pounds between those recordings. Though the loss had little to do with life style change—probably a gift of breastfeeding more than anything—I was awarded the “5!” badge. Those five pounds made their way back (or ‘weigh’ back?) onto the scale over the holidays. While it was shameful to record my heavier weight at the beginning of the year, the “5!” badge remained.

Since my first weigh in of 2012, I’ve lost a solid four pounds. I’m meant to record my weight again tomorrow and I’m dying to see what will happen to my “5!” if I reach that milestone again. Each time you record your weight online, a box pops up which reads something like, “You’ve lost again this week, keep up the good work,” or, “Your weight stayed the same, keep up the good work,” or, “You’ve gained this week, keep trying your best!”

What would be helpful for me to hear when I reach my five pound milestone again is, “Good for you. You’ve earned back that award we gave you. Don’t eff it up again.”

I’d also find it motivational if they wrote things like, “You do NOT want to look like this on your fortieth birthday. Dust off those running shoes, woman,”

Or, “I can’t believe you are still wearing your maternity clothes! How old is your child?”

Recently, Weight Watchers has made some changes to their program. I was just on their site browsing their ‘Success Stories’ and I’d like to report a correction. Instead of “Results not typical,” their disclaimer now reads, “People following the Weight Watchers plan can expect to lose 1-2 pounds per week.”

Let’s see, I’ve been on the plan for two weeks and I’ve lost four pounds. Award received: Feeling not typical.






*I don’t believe there is a ‘Maintenance Maven’ charm for having reached the maintenance level of weight loss but if you’ve ever encountered the plucky personality of a Weight Watchers Leader, you’d agree that there should be.



Photo: “The Triumph of Bacchus” by Diego Velázquez

Weight

Right. As you may have noted in my last post, I gained 57 lbs during my pregnancy last year. The good news is that I lost nearly 30 lbs during the labor and the few weeks following. This still puts me nearly 30 lbs overweight. My husband was also a victim of pregnancy weight gain, though at over 6’ tall, it doesn’t show as much on his frame. Nonetheless, we are determined to get cute again this year. Not to mention that we would like to get pregnant again this year (much later this year) and need to be healthy. I have always had success with the Weight Watchers program and that’s the path we’re taking. It’s not as sexy as more drastic approaches like going gluten free or cutting sugar or eating raw, but frankly, after caring for an infant all day, I’ll require a bit of chocolate and my husband surely deserves at least a beer nightly. Of course exercise will play a large role. We were competitive runners prior to our journey to parenthood and can’t wait to literally dust off our running shoes and move again. For your information, this blog will not be solely about weight loss, though many great ones are, including my sister’s (more to come on that if she chooses to make her journey public,) but you may hear me occasionally bespeak my triumphs and disappointments along the way. Today, I sit down, with infant on my lap, to plan some meals, a shopping list, and a strategy.

By the way: Lennon’s ornament (January 1, 2012) was made by one of my favorite artisans, Paloma’s Nest