Refuse To Regain

Emerging From a Food Rut

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

About a year ago, I wrote about how bored I was with my strength training routine (“Kicking It Up A Notch”). So I bought a barbell and got refocused. I don’t know what it is about this time of the year, but now I’m bored with my food choices.

Every morning I make a smoothie. Every afternoon I make a salad. Every night I eat a veggie, a protein and maybe a starch. I use different fruits in my smoothie or use a different kind of soy or almond milk, but it’s still a smoothie. I switch up veggies in my salad (hearts of palm one day, red onions the next – whoohoo) but it’s still a salad. I use different beans in my bean burgers, but they’re still bean burgers.

Yawn.

It’s not that I need to try all kinds of new foods or want to reintroduce meat to my diet. I’m pretty happy with the core repertoire I’ve got going as a vegetarian. It’s the combinations of foods in a recipe, the spices, the order in which I eat things that need to change. What happened to the Lynn who loved to eat breakfast for dinner and leftovers for breakfast? Life, I guess. There’s comfort in knowing I have the same old reliable foods on hand so I don’t have to put a lot of thought into what I’ll eat when I’m as busy as I’ve been the last few months. But the new grandbaby is here and my writing project is in the hands of someone else for the time being, so it’s time to get out of this rut.

This morning, I dug out one of my favorite cookbooks, one I haven’t looked at in six months or more: "Betty Crocker’s Healthy New Choices". I forgot how much I love Red Lentil Soup, and I discovered a black-eyed peas recipe that I wouldn’t have given a second look if not for having tried black-eyed peas a while back and loved them. So it’s off to the store to buy black-eyed peas and some red lentils, since the ones I have stored in an old margarine container in the back of the cupboard probably haven’t seen the light of day in a year. I’m surprised they haven’t sprouted legs and walked out on their own.

After perusing the cookbook, I automatically went to the freezer to grab frozen fruit for a smoothie. Wait! You’re thinking outside the box, remember? said the voice in my head. I opened the refrigerator instead. There on the top shelf was my husband’s light cream cheese. I say my husband’s because I haven’t eaten cream cheese in more than a year. Heck, I think it’s been two, almost three years, maybe.

I have a long history with cream cheese, and it’s one of those foods that makes me sad to eat in small quantities, if that makes sense. When I was 300 pounds, I chose between two standard breakfasts: 1) drive-through McDonald’s for two (yes t-w-o) Egg McMuffins and a hash brown; or 2) a toasted (very well) bagel with veggie cream cheese and a coffee loaded with half-and-half from our local coffee shop. Granted, the coffee shop uses only light cream cheese, but when you’re talking three or more tablespoons, there’s nothing light about it.

As I lost weight, I still ate a half bagel with smaller amounts of cream cheese whenever I went to the coffee shop, but when the half bagel was done, I wanted more. The craving was overwhelming. So much so that I had to give up cream cheese and bagels entirely because it was literally emotional torture to tell myself “no” to more cream cheese. Ridiculous, perhaps, but I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who understands this.

Back to this morning. I spied the cream cheese and thought, Hmmm…I’ve got some lovely chives growing in the garden, a whole-wheat Arnold’s Sandwich Thin in the bread drawer…I think I’d like to give it a try. 

I toasted the Arnold’s and snipped some chives, measured out a tablespoon of cream cheese and made a pseudo-bagel with cream cheese.

It. Was. Divine.

And I didn’t want or crave anymore than that one tablespoon. Could it be I have no more emotional ties to cream cheese? 

I wanted fruit for breakfast, too. Rather than reach for the old standby – a banana – I again grabbed one of my husband’s staple foods. A grapefruit. I see and smell the grapefruit he eats almost every day and think, You really should have some one of these days, but I always have the frozen fruit and a banana or apple, and since I only eat two fruits a day, I run out of “food time” for the grapefruit.

So I took out a grapefruit, and instead of cutting it in half and eating it with a grapefruit spoon, I peeled it and ate it in sections.

It. Was. Devine.

I always try to eat a veggie for breakfast, too. Usually it’s broccoli or asparagus from the night before. This morning, however, there were steamed carrots from – surprise, surprise – my husband’s meal last night! I heated those up, too, and…they were divine as well.

A totally different breakfast has me thinking in all kinds of different ways this morning. I’m really excited to make Red Lentil Soup this afternoon and the black-eyed peas tomorrow and any other different recipe I can find that is a little outside my ordinary of late.

Who says maintenance has to be dull? We have to shake things up once in awhile or we get bored. And as Hollywood hunk-o-rama Viggo Mortensen (whom I prefer without a beard, personally) said, “There’s no excuse to be bored. Sad, yes. Angry, yes. Depressed, yes. Crazy, yes. But there’s no excuse for boredom, ever.”

Creating Life’s Events

By Barbara Berkeley

Congratulations to Lynn on becoming a grandmother for the second time! Her new grandson Luca was born on Friday, and while all babies are cute, I can vouch for the fact that this one is particularly adorable. At almost the same moment as Lynn’s daughter was giving birth, my Aunt Ellie was celebrating her 100th birthday with all of us in attendance in Florida. These two life events could hardly be more divergent yet they share the same center. Life events are moments that can’t be duplicated mainly because they reflect the essence of our being.

This time of year seems to lend itself to life events. Friends of mine are getting married next week. We just attended my daughter’s graduation. In our small town, each Memorial Day is celebrated with a parade, a “Blossom Time” carnival and a hot air balloon race. The weekend serves as a placemark in the lives of locals. “I remember a few years ago at Blossom when I……”

Seventeen years ago, our family moved out here from nearby Shaker Heights. Shaker is a lovely, well-manicured suburb where we had bought our first home after coming to Cleveland from New York. After five years in a home we loved, we decided – for some odd reason – to move to the country. The decision to buy a run-down property with “potential” seemed particularly fool-hardy when we took possession on a warm Memorial Day weekend. I remember sitting at twilight on the front porch looking out over the overgrown lawn and wondering just what we’d gotten ourselves into. I had tried to give the girls a bath and the water had come out bright orange and reeking of sulfur. On our first night in the house, the roof had leaked badly. Nearly everything was in disrepair. Our barn had a tractor inside, but who knew how to use it?

As Don and I sat there despondently, an amazing thing occurred. Five or six enormous, brightly colored balloons ascended out of nowhere, clearing the trees that surrounded our property and floating up into the air like glittering angels. They looked big as houses and had baskets suspended beneath them. We could hear the people in the baskets talking far above us. The balloons were soon joined by others painted with stripes, suns and swirls. They hovered directly over our house, occasionally lit by blazes of fire and hissing breaths of hot air. They seemed an incredibly welcome omen of good fortune. Suddenly, we were able to see the lawn and house as they might be someday, if we cared enough to make them that way.

Each year, the balloons ascend just as they did that night. We are no longer surprised to see them, but we relish their appearance. They are part of our catalogue of life events; a ritual that someone created years ago which has taken on special meaning for us and for many in our town.

We can’t choose to reach a hundredth birthday or plan on balloons appearing over our roofs from out of the blue. But in truth, most of our cherished life events occur because we make them happen. A baby is born because (most of the time) we plan it that way. Our wedding day comes about because we decided to find a partner and opened ourselves to making it work. We graduate because we applied to school and stayed the course. And there are so many millions of other ways that we can create our lives. We eat the fresh tomato because we planted the seed. We joyfully hover at healthier weight because we’ve made it so.

This morning, I laced up my running shoes and set out with no small feeling of trepidation. It was the end of Week Five of my Couch to 5K program. At the beginning of the week, I was asked to run a few five minute segments. On day two, the program called for escalating the running time to two eight minute blocks. Now, on day three, I would face the real challenge. A twenty minute run. No breaks. It didn’t seem possible that I’d be able to go from eight minutes of running to twenty and I actually noticed that my heart was beating quickly in nervous anticipation. It was a gorgeous morning, warm enough for shorts and a light shirt. The oriole that has been living in our silver maple called out as I headed down the driveway. Two mourning doves peeked at me curiously from their perch on the split rail fence. The air smelled like lilacs and hay. A road crew had paved our street just one week earlier. They hadn’t painted any lines yet. In the clear morning air, the road stretched like a clean black ribbon into the distance. In the reality that I had created, I ran the twenty minutes – pounding along the road with a sense of increasing wonder at my accomplishment.

As the time elapsed and I cruised to a breathless stop on this Memorial Day weekend, a bright blue and silver hot air balloon came into view just over the trees.

The Green House Revisited

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering
 
As Barbara and I mark our one-year blogging anniversary, and Refuse to Regain enters its second year, I want to revisit my “Green House Philosophy.”

I liken my reduced body to the green house in which I live: a 1910s Cape Ann with pale green asbestos siding, an evergreen porch “skirt” (which we’ve since painted brown), dappled moss green shingles, and Astroturf glued to the porch and front stairs. As I wrote in my first blog, my husband and I had big plans to renovate, but the costs were too high and so we spiff up the place as we can within our means.

I thought about the ways in which I could renovate my own reduced body, worn and battered by years of stretched skin, and arthritis made worse by obesity. But the medical costs were too high and so I’ve been learning to make peace with the body I have and spiff it up as I can within my means.

In the last year, part of that spiffing up process has involved finding the right balance of exercise that doesn’t cross my pain threshold. I’ve paid closer attention to my body’s aches and knots and crunches. As I wrote recently on my website Lynn’s Weigh, gone are the days when I killed myself with cardio. Two years ago, I averaged six hours a week of cardio in addition to one to two hours of strength training. No wonder in my journal I wrote time after time, “I’m sore today.”

I never paid attention to my body the way I do now. Before I lost weight this last time, if I had a stiff muscle, I laid on the couch until it went away. Now I get curious about it. Which one is it? How can I make it stronger without hurting myself?

I’ve spent several hours gardening the last few weeks. Gardening unburies muscles like a trowel. It finds the ones I haven’t used in awhile and magnifies them. One morning last week, I woke up with stiff glutes and wrists. My exercise plan was 40 minutes of cardio and 30 minutes of strength training. Rather than sucking up the pain and plowing ahead with my plans, I backed off and thought about the short-term and long-term consequences of overusing muscles that clearly were telling me they were sore. If I worked out, I not only risked further injury to my glutes and wrists, but to other muscles and body parts, too, as I subconsciously compensated for the weaker, sore muscles.

I realize this sounds simple, but it still takes deliberate, conscious thought to dislodge from my head the chatter from my fat chick, the worry wart, the tight-rope walker that tells me if I slip up even once, I’ll fall back into old habits. There are more things to consider than merely how many calories can I burn today, or rather, how many calories do I need to burn today. What I need is a body that sticks with me for the long haul, flaws and all, and it’s my job as its caretaker to listen to it.

I still believe in what I wrote last year. If I want to live in peace and enjoy its many amenities, I have to accept my body’s “greenness” and see past the skin and stretches and accept its physical limitations.  Within my body is muscle and strength but also heart and soul. Where there is sadness and longing, there is also love and joy. My body is capable of empathy. It is determined.

So….is your “house” in order? How do listen to your body? As always, leave a comment. Thank you for making Refuse To Regain such a place of support, for sharing your determination and strategies for maintenance, and your new understandings as well as your past.

Responding to Rebecca: Lynn Chimes In

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

I really don’t have a lot to add to the question, “Is Maintenance Possible?” because you all reiterated my thoughts in your insightful and thoughtful comments.

Maintainers ARE different than most folks. We’ve embraced, or are working to embrace, the fact that we can’t “diet” and go back to “normal” (loved that comment!). I did that for 30 years, and until I figured out that I had to change my entire relationship with food and my body forever, not temporarily, I could not be a successful maintainer.

I want to address a few things Barbara said in her response. First, she asks the question: “Do we regain weight because we simply fall back into bad habits or do we regain because we have a physiologic disorder that encourages – even demands – that fat be reaccumulated?” Barbara believes that yes, when something has gone wrong with the body’s innate calorie mechanism, that it is more likely that a person who has accumulated large amounts of fat over their lifetime will have a more difficult time keeping weight off.

This makes perfect sense to me and is what makes me a more mindful maintainer this time around. Speaking as a person who has accumulated and unaccumulated large amounts of fat over and over for 30 years, I know my body well and even the slightest increase in caloric intake in a few days time will guarantee a gain, especially if those calories are carb-based. My daughters – both of whom grew up without a weight problem – eat balanced diets, but they also eat greasy foods once in awhile, white bread, desserts (things I choose to avoid because I know what they’ll do to my body ) and they don’t gain weight. They also usually only eat when they’re hungry and stop eating when they’re full, something I didn’t do as a young adult.

I suspect that being 24 and 25 with fairly young metabolisms help, but by the time I was 25, I’d lost my first 100 pounds. I ate similarly to how they eat now and my body got fat. Ergo, I can’t eat the standard American diet unless I want to gain weight again. This was lesson #1 in maintenance.

I’ve been criticized by people losing weight and by people who choose to maintain at a higher weight for eating what to them seems like a small amount of food every day. They say they could “never” eat so few calories in a day.

People losing weight often are disheartened when they find out I consume 1200-1400 calories a day and do not eat the calories I burn exercising. Sadly, they look too far into the future and assume that they, too, will have to do EXACTLY what I do in order to maintain their weight loss. This fear of not being able to eat more food has unfortunately caused many people to stop losing and ultimately start gaining again.

My critics who are maintaining at higher weights readily admit they work out more than two hours almost every day just so they can eat more food. I like food. God knows I do. But I will not be a slave to it. Having said that, my approach to maintenance is just one of many, and if working out two hours every day works for someone, that’s great! As Barbara also said in her response: “…the answer to maintenance lies in finding a formula that avoids putting stress on that weak point. Once the formula is known, success comes from constant attention to this very individual plan…One person’s formula will not be the same as another’s…”

I do believe whole-heartedly that maintenance is possible and, as Barbara said, “obesity is not destiny.” But it does take a complete and honest examination of our wants, needs, and desires in terms of what we want to look like and feel like, and what we can commit to doing for the rest of our lives in order to achieve those goals.

Thank you so much, all of you, for participating in this blog the way you do. As Barbara and I mark our one-year blogging anniversary this month, we’re continually amazed at the commitment to and philosophies of maintenance that you share with us. Here’s to another year of growing in understanding of what makes maintenance possible. For me, without this kind of support, I know maintenance would be more difficult.

Responding to Rebecca: The Two Questions

By Barbara Berkeley

Our recent post featuring Rebecca’s question about the possiblity of long-term maintenance has been one of our most viewed and discussed entries. We knew there would be lots of terrific responses from readers and our expectations have been more than fulfilled. Your comments and encouragement have been superb. Thanks to all who have written. As usual, your words are thoughtful, well-written, and completely on target.

Lynn and I decided that we would post our responses to Rebecca after most of you had a chance to comment first. Since we are now a week or so out, I thought I’d write from my own perspective. Please feel free to continue commenting on the original post, however. This is a question that can’t be discussed too much.

As a clinician, I see two very distinct questions in the maintenance puzzle. Rebecca addresses both in her email, but most of our responders spoke to just one. The two questions are:
1. Is there something physical or psychological that makes regain inevitable?
2. Are there specific behaviors that allow someone to successfully maintain?

Those of you who are doing a good job staying at steady weight have figured out an answer for question two. As a result, most of you spoke to that second question in your responses. In the real world, the second question is, in fact, the more important one. If you’ve got that one licked, question one becomes nothing more than a curiosity.

For clinicians, though, the first question is hugely important. If doctors and scientists knew whether something hormonal or physical drove the body to regain weight, they might potentially design a treatment that would make maintenance much easier. Question one boils down to this: do we regain weight because we simply fall back into bad habits or do we regain because we have a physiologic disorder that encourages - even demands - that fat be reaccumulated?
Of course, we don’t know the answer. At this point, we can only take an educated guess. Based on patient observations, the information I have on human physiology and what little direct evidence exists, I have formulated the following opinion, but it’s only that - an opinion.

It seems to me that when someone starts to accumulate fat fairly extensively, something has already gone wrong with the body’s innate calorie balance mechanism. (For more on this theory, see earlier post on IBM). This malfunction can occur because the balance mechanism has had years of exposure to the SAD (Standard American Diet) or because of excessive caloric intake over shorter periods. It seems to me that once the system has malfunctioned, it tends to remain fragile permanently. This fragility predisposes POWs to weight regain unless they are extremely careful to avoid it. The analogy I often use in the office is that of the knee that has suffered a cartilage tear. If you stop exercising on that knee, it can heal up. Eventually you may be walking on it just fine. However, if you go back to stressing that knee (say, by running the marathon), it will probably start being a problem again. It remains fragile, a weak point in the body. This is one of the reasons that I believe so strongly in preventing weight gain in children. If we can prevent kids from weakening their IBMs, they will not have to struggle with bodies that tend to regain weight easily. Heading obesity off at the pass is the biggest favor we can do for the next generation of American children.

Reduced bodies belong to people who have already proved that they gain weight easily. That tendency remains. On the other hand, it flies in the face of any logic to claim that maintaining weight loss is impossible. Since the caloric balance system has been weakened, the answer to maintenance lies in finding a formula that avoids putting stress on that weak point. Once the formula is known, success comes from constant attention to this very individual plan.

A starting formula for weight maintenance is laid out in Refuse to Regain, but this is just one type of jumping-off point. Since the hormone that is most central to weight gain is insulin, a Primarian diet keeps weight off by asking the body for very little insulin secretion. Some individuals may have additional problems with fatty foods and salt. Each maintainer needs to start at some sort of baseline and work out his or her personal formula while watching the scale. The diet and lifestyle changes that only you can discover should become clear once the scale pivots around a fluctuation of several pounds. If you are staying within that small range, you have found the right formula for you. One person’s formula will not be the same as another’s, but certain constants are generally found.

First, total calories are kept rather low. Second, starches and sugars and much less prominent than in the SAD. Third, the diet tends to be low in saturated fats. Within these general guidelines, various maintainers will be able to add more or less foods, depending on their personal sensitivities.

Is it possible to maintain over the long run? Clearly, the answer is yes. But the effort takes constant attention, little tweaks to diet and behavior, and a real desire to be successful. There are many people in the world who eat diets that don’t conform to SAD norms. Each one of these people proves that various types of dietary formulas can be sustained permanently if they are important enough to the individual.

Nothing I’ve written above addresses the psychological components of regain. There is no question at all that many people regain because they use food in a drug-like way. This does not mean that they are weak or without willpower. It simply means that they have succumbed to the way most Americans eat--for the thrill of it. If a new maintainer finds that he or she is driven to eat by stresses or simply by habit, that person will benefit greatly from more intensive support. If eating is truly functioning as medication, psychological counseling may be in order. If it’s more a matter of habit, participation in group meetings or talking to other maintainers on the internet may work just as well.

Obesity is not destiny. If I did not believe that, I would have to close my doors and stop practicing. Having said that, I also believe that to truly love and care for your body (particularly when such care involves constant attention) is the stuff of personal heroism. Let’s continue to affirm that each one of us is capable of being a hero. As a community, we can assure those who are still in doubt that maintenance is not only possible, it’s a larger experience that will change the way you view not only your weight- but your life.

Question to Readers From Readers: Is Maintenance Possible?

RTR reader Rebecca from Washington D.C. poses a very basic yet incredibly complex question: Is maintenance really possible? Barbara and I will chime in with our thoughts later in the week, but we’re more interested in what you have to say on this subject. As always, leave a comment or send email to refusetoregain@gmail.com.

Here’s Rebecca’s email:

I've been reading your blog for the past several months. It's an excellent website. Kirstie Alley's recent interview on Oprah triggered me to write. One issue that I'd be grateful if you'd address are your views on why it is that maintenance seems to be so difficult for virtually everyone to achieve. 
 
I'm 46 years old, and I have recently lost the same 30 pounds that I've lost four times before in my life since I was 18. After 5 months of changing my eating habits, I'm back down to a comfortable weight range, where I'm wearing size 10 clothes, instead of the plus size clothes I was wearing. (My exercise habits have been good for the past 15 years or so; I've done 30-45 minutes of cardio and strength training regularly for this period.)
 
Each time previously, I maintained the weight loss (sometimes for a number of years), but somehow found myself back at the weight at which I started. I'm old enough to know that I do not have this figured out, and I am really struggling with thoughts about maintenance, the approach to take, and, most fundamentally, whether maintenance really is possible.
 
My life feels so much better when I am thinner. Being thinner doesn't fix everything, of course. But I feel so much better in my clothes, and I love not feeling out of control around food. I love not feeling anxious that I may be setting myself up for the unhealthiness of diabetes. More than with any previous weight loss experience, I feel that I've actually changed what I am eating (cut out processed food, refined carbs, sugar) in a way that has minimized "binge-y" feelings. Yet I still feel extremely worried and insecure about maintenance.
 
In my own life, besides myself, virtually every woman I know has been unable to maintain her loss over the long term. The only woman I know who has done so (a friend of my mother who has maintained probably for 20 plus years) is a long-time member of Overeaters' Anonymous. I see that the blogger on "pastaqueen.com" (linked on your home page) just announced a weight gain of 35 pounds, and other bloggers seem to have had the same experience (dietnakedblog.com, yawwblog.blogspot.com/). Oprah Winfrey and Kirstie Alley recently discussed the issue and their recent weight gains on Oprah's show.

Kate Harding, and the other fat acceptance bloggers, basically argue that maintaining weight loss is impossible, and women should simply accept themselves at the weight at which they wind up. I must say, I have a feeling like, "If Oprah can't maintain with all of the support and resources available to her, how is it possible for the average woman?" All of the scientific studies seem to suggest that it's impossible to maintain a weight loss (although I suppose there are those 10% of the persons who have done it).

Thank you for any thoughts, and thank you for this website.

LeBron is MVP, Barbara Runs Week 3

By Barbara Berkeley

It’s been an auspicious week.

My sports hero LeBron James was named Most Valuable Player of the 2008-2009 NBA season. The Cavs dominated round one of the NBA playoffs and focused with laser-like intensity on their new opponents, the Atlanta Hawks. In the second round, they have already gone up 2 games to none and thus far, it hasn’t been close.

A few nights ago, Don and I were at the game as we watched the Cavs battle out to a 39- point lead. As it turns out, last night’s decisive victory was particularly sweet because it came on—to the day – the 20th anniversary of “The Shot.” As I’ve mentioned before, The Shot happened when Michael Jordan sank Cleveland’s hopes of winning a championship by hitting a basket at the buzzer of a crucial game. (A link to video of The Shot is found in the LeBron and the Art of Weight Maintenance post). Thanks to a combination of talent and determination, things couldn’t be more different for the Cavs now. The Shot is being avenged.

The 2009 Cavaliers have clearly stated their goal: to win the NBA championship. That goal has almost taken on a life of its own. Our arena provides fan with “rally towels” imprinted with the “One Goal” logo and t-shirts that boldly state the same thing. The motto is plastered all over the Cavs website. As a result of this Cavs season, I’ve become a big fan of goals. Their public proclamation propels the goal-setter forward. But stating a goal requires fearlessness. What if you fail?

Like my beloved Cavaliers, I’m trying to ignore the possibility of failure and focus on moving along my own path. Out on the country roads about 35 minutes from Quicken Loans Arena, a scrawny, puffing, yet determined figure can be seen plodding along the asphalt. That would be me trying to channel LeBron’s spirit in my quest for “runnerhood.” So far so good. I’m almost done with Week 3 of the Couch to 5K program.

Since that first week a lot has happened. I bought a pair of running shoes. I started wearing running pants that don’t chafe. I figured out that my MP3 player was no good for exercise when it started skipping and resetting. Thanks to one of those technically savvy sales techs at Best Buy, I found out that I needed an MP3 player that had a “flash” mechanism, not a hard drive. I bought a small iPod and learned how to use it. (Imagine! I actually figured out what the circle thing on the front does!!! ) I also learned how to use iTunes, how to download my running podcasts and how to buy other music. I started looking for all my favorite songs…especially those from albums and CDs that had disappeared during various moves or between the cracks of car seats or who knows where else. (The only thing that disappears more frequently in my life than CDs are earrings….I only have one of each.) I figured out which roads stayed flat around my house and which ones would rise annoyingly just as Michael Ullrey’s voice told me it was time to “run.” I found out that I needed an elastic band to go around my arm so that I wouldn’t have to hold my iPod. I discovered that I couldn’t hear cars coming with my headphones on so it was better for me to run against the direction of traffic. In other words, on a very low level, my new journey allowed me to start learning the basics of running.

But what have I learned about running itself? At week three, I certainly haven’t learned that I love it. But a small crack has opened and here’s what it is. I can feel that I might get to the point where running would be effortless. I can feel that if I do get to that point, I might very well love it.

Believe me, I’m far from that moment now. It still hurts to run. I’m still breathing hard and it still feels like the road surface is jolting me with every bound. But this week I had a funny new experience. A few times, during my longer stretches of running, my mind travelled away from what I was doing. I started looking at the trees and the gorgeous clouds and a few birds that chased me. I noticed a Canadian goose perched on top of a house like a weather vane. Then it all snapped back and I felt my right hamstring and my ankles banging around and I wondered when I would get the cue to stop running and take a break. Later on, though, I couldn’t get the goose moment out of my mind. I wanted to repeat that feeling. I almost wanted to go out for another run and see whether I could get there if I went out again. But I decided to follow the protocol and take a rest day. Nevertheless, for five or ten seconds, I’d had a glimpse of the place I needed to head for. It was curious. And very motivating.

These goals we set. They are kind of fascinating aren’t they? By moving toward an endpoint, we force ourselves to experience a new journey. I hope that your travels are taking you along new roads of your own creation. I will continue to report on the scenery that lines mine.

Minoxidil and Post-it Notes

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

Like Barbara in her last post (“C25K…4BB”) about learning to run despite her failings in the past, I often give up on things I can’t excel at, like failure is worse than having tried.

I never “excelled” at weight loss, so I wouldn’t have predicted I’d be where I am now when I started this journey four years ago. I’d lost and gained so many times (read: FAILED so many times) that it seemed against my nature to try again. However, I knew the consequences if I didn’t were more dire than merely a bruised ego.

I’d always viewed weight loss as one dimensional with two purposes: to be more healthy and to look better. Four years later, however, I see it more like minoxidil and Post-it Notes.

The drug minoxidil was first used exclusively as an oral drug to treat high blood pressure. However, it had an unwanted side-effect: hair growth. Scientists sat back for a moment and pondered the possibilities of using minoxidil to reverse or slow down the balding process. They put it in cream form and the drug became Rogaine.

In 1968, two scientists at 3M accidentally developed a “low-tack” reusable pressure sensitive adhesive. For five years, they tried to promote their invention within 3M, but no one was very interested. In 1974, a colleague came up with the idea of using the adhesive to anchor his bookmark in his hymnbook. Voila! 3M ran with his idea, patenting Post-its and distributing them nationwide in 1980.

Losing weight has had more far reaching outcomes than I originally imagined, too, and I think one of the keys to successful weight loss and maintenance is being open to this kind of serendipity.

I had a “for instance” moment last week during my first physical therapy appointment. Since tearing my rotator cuff and biceps tendon two years ago, I’ve been working with a chiropractor and massage therapist to keep my shoulder as strong and functional as possible without surgery. I also developed a strength training routine that focused on my rotator cuff muscles. A few weeks ago, however, the pinching pain in my biceps tendon became nearly constant and I knew I needed to ask for even more help in my efforts to ward off the surgery.

My ex-husband used to tell me (and often), “You hate being told you’re wrong.” I didn’t know what made me more angry: him telling me that or him being right.

When I made an appointment with a physical therapist, I felt like I was setting myself up for scrutiny and ridicule. I was sure he’d scoff at my desire to not have surgery and fall on the floor in hysterics when I explained my strength training regimen.

But here’s the “for instance/ah-ha” moment: pre-weight-loss Me would have A) tried to ignore the pain and stuffed herself with Advil (or worse); or B) had surgery without taking into consideration her own needs and desires. However, since embarking on this final weight-loss/weight-maintenance trek, I’ve learned to be a little softer, a little more open to possibilities, a little more aware of those serendipitous moments instead of letting them tip-toe by.

When I got to the rehab center, I was so nervous I was shaking. PT Seth called me back and I stuttered a few times when he asked me questions, something I do when I’m nervous and get extremely embarrassed by. BUT I KEPT GOING. I told Seth about the chiropractic, massage therapy and strength training, and what I wanted to accomplish. As he assessed my injury, he asked me pull my chin to my chest. My first thought was, “But he’ll see my double chin!” forgetting I don’t have one anymore. BUT I KEPT GOING. I didn’t try to be stronger or more flexible than I was and I stayed in that potentially vulnerable state of mind for longer than I’ve ever felt comfortable before. And a funny thing happened: I stopped shaking and stuttering.

Seth said he believes in helping people keep “all their original parts for as long as possible.” Phew. We were on the same page.

Then he began his recommendations. He didn’t laugh when he told me I was doing too many shoulder rows and triceps work. He simply suggested I cut my regular strength training routine from nine exercises to five. He also increased my rotator cuff/biceps tendon ST routine from three exercises to six. He showed me proper form and didn’t mock me when I didn’t do it right the first (or second or third) time.

I walked out feeling understood and strong even though the vulnerability lingered.

If I’d known four years ago that by losing weight I’d not only change the way I looked but that I’d also examine my fears of being vulnerable, wrong, and helpless, I might not have done it. I would have been too afraid I’d fail.

Losing weight was the easy part. The inner demons? Not so much. But like the minoxidil scientists and the guy at 3M, I thought outside the box. I’ve discovered a serendipitous nature to weight loss and maintenance. Scary as it is sometimes to look inside and question old habits and beliefs, the end result is more than just a number on the scale.