Refuse To Regain

Halloween to New Year's Day: Joy, Anxiety and Overeating

by Barbara Berkeley, MD

Why do we eat?

In the America of 2011, we eat for the same reasons we buy new TVs, redo our kitchens or replace our perfectly functional cars.  We eat not because we need to, but because we can.  Eating is cheap, pleasurable and soothing.  It's kind of an adult "blankie". 

With that in mind, let's look at when we need a blankie most.  We want to be soothed when we are stressed, when we are reminded of unhappy memories, when the skies are dark, when winter descends, when we feel tired and overwrought.  

In the America of 2011, a supermarket is like a wonder-world of shiny new toys, each one affordable and promising a thrill.  The packages say "Fun! Fun!Fun!" while the labels say, "Heart Healthy" and "Cholesterol Free".  It's ok to be seduced, it's ok to give in.  Heck, it's even virtuous.

Combine these two stimulants to eating and you have the dangerous food period between Halloween and January 1st.   As the skies darken (at least in Ohio) and the leaves fall from the trees leaving depressing skeletons, the food intensity ratchets up.  Seasonal foods make their appearance.  Starbucks puts peppermint back on the menu, along with gingerbread.  Cooking magazines, newspapers and food channels exhort us to bake, bake, bake...as if this will somehow stave off our anxiety.  As we get older, the holidays remind us more and more about our own mortality.  They are still a wonderful time, but we remember how many of these holidays there have been and how many of those we loved are now gone.  Our kids may have grown up and live far away.  They return for the holidays, but no matter what we do, we can't return to the time when they ran down the front steps dressed as ghosts and princesses. We compare today's holidays to those past and to the celebrations of others.  Anything that reminds us of the passage of time tends to make us introspective and unsettled.  

So...let's eat!  Let's drink! 

How do we successfully negotiate such a difficult period and not regain?  The answer lies in creative thinking.  Maintaining a new, healthier body requires a new, refreshed look at life. Instead, most of us tend to repeat the same patterns.  Left unexamined and unchallenged,  life tends to break people down.  But it doesn't have to.  If you as an individual keep creating, keep innovating and keep expanding, the things life removes will have a lesser impact.  You will be more expansive.

Here are some questions for those who want to maintain from now until 2012:

Do you REALLY need to bake this year?  If baking gets you out of control, are you willing to take the daring step of experimenting and letting someone else make the cookies, cakes and pies?  What would happen?

Suppose you didn't have a single piece of Halloween candy this year?  Would your life be different?  Or would it be the candy manufacturers who suffered most?

Imagine that you designed a completely Primarian plan for Thanksgiving and decided that you would fill you plate with turkey, salad, veggies and maybe a dab of cranberry sauce.  Suppose you vowed not to have dessert this year, except for coffee and fruit.  Would your enjoyment of Thanksgiving be less?  

Suppose that you decided to do something really radical this year and ban non-Primarian foods from your home over the holidays.  Suppose that you decided to give yourself a much bigger gift than that new IPhone you've been eyeing?  Imagine that you daringly and creatively decided to stick with a primal eating plan with extremely minimal starches and sugars.  Would you have lost an entire year of holiday joy?

I can answer these questions because these are changes that I made personally almost 10 years ago.  Here are the answers.

The holidays are just the same.  It's still great to see everyone and it's still sad to miss Uncle Monroe, Uncle Aaron and Aunt Ellie.  It's still great fun to smell the peppermint and have an occasional gingerbread latte (with Splenda).  It's still a thrill to see the holiday decorations go up and to enjoy the lights, the music and the sentiments.  It's still wonderful to eat dinners with friends and family, and not a soul cares that I don't have the brownies or the stuffing.

And here's what's different.  For the past ten years I have not had to worry about my weight, my blood pressure, my blood sugar or my cholesterol.  My weight and health have allowed me to live so much more creatively...running, spinning, tennis.  Sometimes I'm just so grateful that I can easily squat down and pick up something I dropped.  Alot of people my age can no longer do something so simple.  Being lean and eating the right foods means that you are quicker and more efficient in every way.  My brain works better without the S Foods, which means that I can take up Chess, learn how to use Twitter and blog to the point where you are probably sick of me.

These are the greatest gifts.

So as you approach the holiday season, think bold.  Uphold your chosen eating plan..whatever that may be. Consider the possibility that our holiday eating may be motivated less by happiness and tradition than by habit and anxiety.  Enjoy and celebrate by continuing on your journey of self-creation.  To life!

 

 

 

Impermanence

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

I had an immaculately clean kitchen floor for a minute yesterday. But like everything in life, clean is impermanent. As soon as I let the dogs in from the back yard, my sparkly clean floor was gone.

As many of you know from my Lynn’s Weigh blog, I’ve been studying Buddhist teachings and practicing vipassana meditation for a few years. One of the most difficult concepts I am working to accept and not fear is impermanence, particularly as it relates to my body, and specifically as it relates to weight and physical ability.

(I’ll be using quotes throughout this blog entry from a talk on impermanence given by Buddhist teacher Gil Fronsdal of the Insight Meditation Center.)

“Buddhist practice points us toward becoming equanimous in the midst of change and wiser in how we respond to what comes and goes.”

Last week, I went to see my knee doctor to see if there was anything more I could do to improve the health of my knees and continue to stave off knee replacement surgery. I’ve been having significant issues with my sciatic nerve in both glutes and I suspected the problem stemmed from the physiology of my knees. He said yes, my gait has changed and will continue to change. Arthritic deterioration is a process, and while my knees don’t hurt much, their changes influence the changes in other parts of my body. Nothing’s permanent.

He said I should adjust my cardio routine(s) to less resistance and longer sets, and to lay off power walking. Hearing this, I immediately thought, “But I’ll gain weight!” 

“We may not resist aging as much as we resist letting go of cherished concepts of ourselves and our bodies. One of our most ingrained attachments is to self, self-image, and self-identity.”

The street I live on has on a barely noticeable incline (or decline, depending on which direction you’re looking). When I weighed 300 pounds, I could barely walk a block and I had to take several breaks if I walked the entire length – two blocks.

I didn’t begin a formal exercise regimen until I lost more than 100 pounds, and when I did, I chose to walk. I wanted to walk because I wanted to slay that dragon, to prove I could do it and not have to stop every 500 feet to stretch out the pain in my back. I attacked walking voraciously, walking every time like it was the last time. I got really good at it, and fast. I can (well, could) do a 5K in 38 minutes. Not bad for a woman who was told when she developed osteoarthritis at 18 that she’d be in a wheelchair by the time she was 40.

So for the last three years I’ve identified myself as someone who exercises fast and hard. After learning to walk fast and hard, I went on to bike fast and hard, and work out on the elliptical and arc trainer fast and hard. I convinced myself that in order to maintain my weight loss, I must cling to this identity. But my body is asking (actually, it’s begging) me to soften a bit, think it all through, and to change and work with what it can still give me.

To resist the impermanence of a fully functioning knee (or any other body part) is to risk further pain (or, in Buddhist terms, suffering). The question is: How do I contribute to my own suffering? Answer: By clinging to a self-identity that depends on what her body used to be able to do and not what it can do now.

“We also realize that our clinging and resistance have very little to do with the experience itself. We mostly cling to ideas and concepts, not things or experiences in and of themselves.”

It’s the idea of walking 5-miles-per-hour or cranking the resistance up to 75 percent that I’m clinging to more than the actual experience. The idea says, “If you do this, you will not gain weight.” The actual experience says, “Umm….this kind of hurts, Lynn. Let’s talk about this.”

“As we see impermanence clearly, we see that there is nothing real that we can actually cling to. Our deep-seated tendency to grasp is challenged, and so may begin to relax. We see that our experiences don't correspond to our fixed categories, ideas, or images. We realize that reality is more fluid than any of our ideas about it.”

How will this new workout reality play out? Will I gain weight? How will my body respond? I don’t know. I need to give this new experience of less resistance and more time a chance. Who knows? I might not gain weight and I might not have any more extreme pain from my sciatic nerve. By not clinging to the body that could do it all a few years ago and accepting its impermanence just might promote better health (or in Buddhist terms, happiness).

“The final, liberative level of impermanence is the movement towards letting go at the deepest level of our psyche. Ajahn Chah once said, ‘If you let go a little, you’ll have a little peace. If you let go a lot you’ll have a lot of peace. If you let go completely, you’ll have complete peace.’”

I want that peace. I want to let go. I want to become equanimous and wiser. It’s certainly better than sore glute muscles. But wanting isn’t doing. It takes a lot of work to do the things we want.

And so I will work to accept the impermanent nature of my body and find a way to work within its current parameters in order to maintain my weight. What I did two years ago I can’t do so well now. What I do now I’ll probably not be able to do so well two years from now. But it doesn’t mean I have to throw the baby out with the bath water. There is a path to accepting this bodily impermanence, and if I can lose 170 pounds and walk a 5K in 38 minutes, I can find that path, too.

Meditation and Maintenance

Some of you may recognize this blog entry from Lynn’s Weigh back in October. I’m reposting it here to introduce our guest blog coming up on Tuesday by Alyson Mead, author of “Wake Up To Your Weight Loss.” We’ll also be posting a follow-up guest blog from a meditation teacher on how to begin a meditation practice.

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

I’m a realist. But in the last few years, I’ve become a “kinder, gentler” realist.

I used to beat the crap out of myself when I was obese. I lived on the negative end of life’s battery, spending all my positive energy on other people.

As many of you know, before I started this journey in January 2005, I took a long hard look at the way I treated myself physically and emotionally. As I wrote in a blog for CNN last January, “I had so many feelings floating around in my head when I weighed 300 pounds – inadequacy, anger, and overall helplessness. I vacillated for months between accepting my body as it was and choosing to lose weight. I journaled tough questions: How did I feel about my body. How much did I love myself? Was I worth changing for? It was difficult and often uncomfortable work, I won’t lie, but once I was honest with myself and became better acquainted with the emotions that bothered me most, I was ready to lose weight.”

The reason I know this last time is the last time I’ll lose weight, particularly more than 100 pounds, is because I know who I am now and am my own best friend. This was never the case in my previous attempts at weight loss.

The emotional journey I was on at the time of my weight loss journey got a little more focused when I was introduced to mindful meditation via Jon Kabat-Zinn. Then earlier this year, I took my practice even further after after discovering Pema Chodron. I implement her teachings as a way to develop more compassion toward myself and others.

You might think that meditation and Buddhist teachings and Zen are all ethereal and maybe even mumbo-jumbo, but take it from me, a true realist, there is nothing more real and grounding than learning to love yourself.

I often get emails asking me to review books and other “diet” programs. Most of these requests end up in my junk mail, but a few books caught my attention and I thought I’d pass on the name of one of them today (the other will be in a future blog).

It is through my (still small) understanding of these Buddhist teachings that I can recommend “Wake Up To Your Weight Loss” by Alyson Mead. Mead’s approach to weight loss combines writing and meditation to help readers cultivate loving kindness toward themselves and their bodies. I like how she sums up what meditation is: “The mistaken belief about meditation is that its is somehow magical, bestowing peace and light on whomever it touches. But meditation is simply a tool, to help you focus in on and, more importantly, learn to cope with the stuff your mind may fling at you.” And if your mind is anything like mine, what it flings is often a lot of s*it.

Along with writing and meditation, Mead offers helpful “off the mat” exercises to take into real-life situations throughout the day.

I truly believe that knowing ourselves, becoming our own best friend, being compassionate toward ourselves, is the real key to weight loss and maintenance. As Mead writes in chapter seven, “Losing weight is, in a sense, losing part of yourself. The closer you get to learning who you are on a very intimate level, the more power you will have when emotional issues arrive.”

“Wake Up To Your Weight Loss” is a good companion piece to diet and exercise. It’s better than pills and there are no side effects except feeling more at peace and at home in your own body.

And I didn’t get paid to say that. I’m just keeping it real.

The Role Of Supporter

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

Something we talk a lot about on this blog is support – where we find it and in what ways we use it, either on the Internet or in real life. I’d like to approach support from the other side, where you are the supporter and not the supported.

This subject is prompted by a reader who asked in an email: “Have you found it draining/difficult to focus on your own maintenance while supporting others with a similar struggle?”

In terms of support I lend through the Internet on both this blog and Lynn’s Weigh blog, no, I don’t find it difficult or draining most of the time. I get sad when I get an email from someone who is desperate to lose weight and tells me (and this has happened dozens of times, unfortunately), “You’re my only hope.” I choose my words very carefully when answering those emails, if I answer them at all. But those emails are few and far between, and I thoroughly enjoy being a supportive voice for readers, mostly because (and this is selfish, I know) of the incredible support I get in return. So being a supporter in this capacity is usually not one-sided, at least in my experience.

Being a supporter becomes difficult when a friend or an acquaintance I see frequently seeks my advice in a chronic way, and how I mean “chronic” is when there seems to be no self-realization on behalf of that friend or acquaintance that the power is only within themselves to change, that nothing I say will make a difference until they figure out their own path and consult their own mind and intentions for answers. When I get asked the same question over and over, or when the comments become, “Oh, I could NEVER stay away from chocolate…” or cookies, bread….you can fill in the blank, I usually have a difficult decision to make: stick with the relationship as it is and hope it changes or back off and not be as accessible. 

I once had a friend with whom I exercised several times a week. After a few weeks I had to decide: do I stay behind and work at her pace or do I forge ahead and challenge myself to work harder? This was not an easy decision because I wanted to support my friend in her exercise routine, but at what cost to my own exercise needs? I decided to go off at my own pace and perhaps as a secondary benefit, model for her what it means to push harder for even greater results. This resulted in several negative comments and backhanded compliments that not only hurt my feelings, but hurt our relationship. After much soul searching, I realized that her issues went way beyond diet and exercise, and I could no longer be a supporter to such chronic negativity, mostly because it was impacting me much more than it should.

I still believe, though, that the best way to support people we see on a regular basis is by simply demonstrating how we reached our goals or continue to pursue living in a healthy manner through our actions – whether it’s through our food or exercise choices, or in the way we listen to their issues and temper our answers with patience.

I also believe it’s OK to let people see our flaws, too; our “mistakes” or poor choices. Not that most of us learn from other people’s mistakes, but helping people understand that they will make their own mistakes is important, and letting them know that it’s in how they recover and learn from those mistakes that matters most. Most of us at one time or other succumbed to a backslide, a mistake, and we might have looked to others to guide us out. Heck, I still do that! Look how many times I’ve asked all of you for your input? There’s nothing wrong with exposing our soft spots. It’s often how we gain the most knowledge.

To me, the most important thing to remember when being supportive is to take care of yourself first. I hope that in maintenance, you’ve found ways to center yourself, to not lose yourself to the needs and wants of other people. Remember the food pushers and the saboteurs who may have followed you down the scale? There are people as you maneuver through maintenance who will drain you if you don’t learn to say no and establish boundaries. You have the right to walk away. You have the right not to answer. You have the right to take care of yourself.

The Dichotomy of Snow and Maintenance

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

The “s” word is forecast for tomorrow. I can hardly say the word out loud, let alone write it, so for now I’ll just call it the “white stuff.”

My 45-year-old self relates to the white stuff far different than my 10-year-old self. Used to be I couldn’t wait to wake up and see it littered across the lawn all wet and sticky – perfect for a few s-balls to pelt my brother with on the way to school. It meant I could finally wear my new snow boots and mittens. The first white stuff rang in the season of frequent school cancellations, the holidays, ice skating and sledding. Seeing the white stuff for the first time was like seeing an old friend. It was as much a toy as the ones under the tree on Christmas and as comforting as my thumb and blanket.

Thirty years later, though, I don’t care much about new boots (no matter how cute they are) and I can never find mittens warm enough to stop the Raynaud’s from turning my fingers ghost white and numb. It’s the scraping and the driving with white knuckles and the cold that the white stuff brings that is my reality (moving is not an option right now) and so I approach it with trepidation and a little dread.

When I compare this to maintenance vs. weight loss, the feeling is sometimes the same. Just as the white stuff “rewarded” me with fun and excitement, weight loss rewarded me with new numbers on the scale. I often got on the scale with the same kind of anticipation of waking and seeing the white stuff on the ground. Now when I get on the scale, I just pray the numbers are close to what they were the week or day before. I loved losing weight. Admitting that now makes me wonder if all the times I’d lost weight before and gained it all back wasn’t some kind of internal self-reward system at work. Maintaining a weight loss meant a loss of those rewards.

While I’ve embraced maintenance for what it is – a complete change of behavior from my “lose-gain-lose-gain” era – eating right and exercising sometimes takes on the same “have to” feelings as scraping the car after a heavy s-fall or wearing gloves while shopping in the produce and freezer sections of the grocery store. I don’t always want to do what it takes to maintain my weight. I sometimes want to eat without thinking, work or shop or do anything other than exercise, and cast off my gloves and feel normal again. In other words, live in a constant state of “if only,” fighting against what is real.

And so, I’m committed to balancing this dichotomy, both with the white stuff and maintenance. This will be my second full winter season in maintenance and it’s time I stopped bitching and figured out how to be content in maintenance and to accept the white stuff, because neither one, either by my own volition or an act of god, aren’t going away.

Writing about this issue helps. Remembering how much I loved the white stuff melts my 45-year-old heart a little. So how can I appreciate it this winter and approach it from a more positive mindset rather than a negative? I can start with how it looks. The white stuff is beautiful sometimes. It can project calm when it’s falling in big flakes, quietly and without wind. It smells good, all fresh and new. Claire will soon love to play in it and I can experience it from a child’s perspective again. That’s good, too, I guess.

And maintenance? It can look beautiful when I look in the mirror at my flawed but reduced-weight body. I am strong and healthy, despite my physical limitations. Eating right can project calm in my sometimes hectic life. When things happen that are beyond my control, I still control what food I put in my mouth. That keeps me centered. I can hold Claire and chase Claire around the house in ways I couldn’t have at 300 pounds. That is the greatest reward.

So this dichotomy – the love/hate relationship with white stuff and the love/hate relationship with maintenance – will take thoughtful diligence. In the end, I want to be happy and at peace. Fighting it only creates suffering and I don’t want to suffer.

I’d rather admire my Christmas cacti that are in full bloom. Beautiful, aren’t they?

 

So let is snow (yes I said it), let is snow, let is snow. Let me maintain, maintain, maintain. I don’t have to always like it – that’s part of my agreement to face the duality – but I have to deal with how I feel. If I don’t, I will gain weight, I will always hate snow (notice I’m not committing to never hating snow), and I would forever live in the mind-state of “if only things were different.”

A Former Maintainer Needs Your Help

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

This blog will be partly written by me and partly written by you. Someone needs help, dear readers, and I do NOT have the answer.

I received this email the other day: “I have been a yo-yo dieter for most of my life (48 years old). In 2003, I got down to my goal weight and was able to stay there for a whole year (a feat itself). However, since then, I've put the weight back on and then some. I know all the right things to do, but I seem to have a mental block about ‘climbing up that mountain again’ only to fall down again, i.e. sort of have given up. 

Here's the question I have for you: Let's say you didn't have the strength to keep the weight off and regained it. What would YOU do to take it off it again? Is there a program you'd follow? I'm in the ‘tomorrow I'll start’ mode which has lasted 5 years now. Can't make it through one day ‘on track’.”

I, too, was a yo-yo dieter. As I like to tell people, I’ve been up and down the scale more than a stripper on a pole. I’m an expert dieter. It’s only been the last 19 months that I’ve cut my teeth on maintenance. I’m a newbie and I’m learning things every day.

I can only speak to what was different this time and why I’ll not gain my weight back. Notice I don’t say “Hopefully I won’t gain my weight back.” There’s no “hopefully” for me anymore. This is it. I’ve never been more confidant of anything in my life. Why? Because I made the mind/body connection. I truly love who I am and I learned to love the 300-pound woman I was because SHE is the woman who took the time to figure it out.

If I were to gain some weight again, I’d get right back on track with journaling everything – emotions, food intake, why I’m eating what and when, all that stuff. I’d move, too. Take a walk, get to the gym, lift some weights, even if it was just for a few minutes. Probably, though, I’d go see a therapist who specializes in weight issues. There’s a lot of pain back there in the pasts of obese and overweight people. Not everyone, of course, but many people. We all need help once in awhile deciphering what’s really on our minds and why all that crap’s on our plate (figuratively and literally).

To the writer of the question (who I know is reading because she said she would), I ask this: how much emotional work have you done all the times you’ve lost weight before? What’s your personal opinion of yourself? You don’t have to tell me. I pose these questions so you can begin to unravel what keeps you from staying at your goal weight. You deserve to be happy and healthy. I hope you believe that.

So, the rest of you, how do you answer our writer’s question? Please post a comment and I will add it to the actual blog. I look forward to your answers, as, too, does our writer. And I thank you for considering your answers.

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Reader responses:

From Amy: The yo-yo isn't healthy. I would say get out of that cycle and just maintain. You might think that maintaining at your high weight means giving up, but it isn't. It's a commitment to not gaining any more weight. After you reach a point where maintaining at that high weight is no longer interesting to you and you feel motivated to lose weight again, take it SLOW. Concentrate not on getting back down to your low weight, but on something small and easy. Lose 10% or even just 10 lbs. And then stop. Maintain that. Refuse to let the scale go back up. Maintain at that almost-high weight until you actually want to lose more, and then set another SMALL goal and achieve that--then maintain. You don't have to conquer the world and keep it conquered. Just get the yo-yo out of your life. You deserve better.

From Vickie: This time (2nd year of maintenance after 2 years of losing it all slowly): eating disorders therapist AND psychiatrist AND yoga I am on meds - and that has made a huge difference. I would not be on meds through a GP (personally) ONLY through a psychiatrist. I think that when we hit maintenance - it has to be an accumulation of all the work/learning that we did with weight loss. If it is a d-i-e-t mentality with little work done - and all the focus on the scale - then we all seem to have a tendancy to BOUNCE - down and then right back up again. The expression 'it is about the food, until it isn't about the food' is on my mind every day. My therapist and I look at each other at some point in my weekly session every time and say 'the fat is just the part you can see'. My weight will NEVER climb again. Every day even when bad things happen - I stablize myself FIRST and take care of others SECOND. My maintenance is my foundation. I live my life in a preventive mode NOT a reactive one. I live from the inside out now. I use to react from the outside in. I am healthy - I eat healthy - I exercise healthy - I sleep healthy - I take care of myself healthy. I am very careful not to enable myself - and not to allow others to enable me - to make unhealthy decisions.

From Lyn: Before I even read your answer to her, Lynn, my answer was, "therapist." Because that's where I am at. Regained 22 out of 63 and I am kicking and screaming and clawing my way back down. I KNOW it isn't a matter of finding a "diet" that works. Anyone who has already lost the weight knows how to do it, CAN do it, so there is something emotional or mental going on when we "can't." I think it is important to get to the bottom of that, or at least start to udnerstand ourselves well enough to release whatever is holding us back. So, yes, counseling. And yes, loving ourselves. And then there is the part that is "just do it." Which is easier said than done, but there is something to be said for doing the work of losing weight whether we feel like it or not!

From Mari-Anne: I have to agree with what others have said. There has to be a value of self and a self worth underlying maintaining weight loss. That we're worth it. But different people gain weight for different reasons. For many it's a defense mechanism for all sorts of hurts....like a shield, but you can only find out if you speak with someone one on one or in a group setting if you can find that. I know people who've been helped by OA because it kind of deals with some of that and of course Weight Watchers teaches psychological skills that help you along the way, but until you get to the core reason why you personally don't keep the weight off and go back to overeating, your chances of success at that are lower. This was the last piece of a very complex puzzle for me that began with a breakdown and the gaining of most of my weight, though I'd been somewhat overweight to begin with. Taking the weight/shield off was the last step after I got healthy and really believed I was worth it and didn't need to hide behind the fat anymore. I wish your reader happiness, and futur permanent success!

From Colleen: All the comments made great points, but I'd like to add one more: forgive yourself for the past. When I finally got back on track after regaining weight, I felt frustrated that I was losing the same pounds I'd just lost. It didn't seem like a real accomplishment, but more like when you bomb a test and have to retake it. I realize now that I would have been better off focusing on the positive changes I was making and how I was going to make them stick.

From Valarie: Just to put my opinions into context, my maintenance history - down 130 lbs and maintaining that loss for four years. And I've yo-yo'd plenty. I lost all my weight in my 20s, and regained. I lost 120 lbs in 1999 and regained 80 of it. I'll be the rebel and suggest the therapist idea may be useless. I did all the therapy in my 20s after regaining the first time and it didn't make any difference to my weight. I needed the therapy for self-esteem issues, so I don't dislike therapy, but it produced no results in my weight issues. If you have serious self-esteem issues, see a therapist. If you just have minor, everyday self esteem issues like the rest of the world and would only seek therapy in order to help lose weight, I think it's a waste. My experience tells me that my weight issue was primarily physiological. When I cut out sugar and most other refined carbohydrates, my hunger diminished and I lost weight relatively easily. Before this, my weight issues always felt like they were psychological. Why couldn't I just diet? Why did I hate myself so much that I was destroying my body? How little must I have thought of myself to allow myself to get to 340 lbs? In the end, those issues disappeared when I got off the carbohydrate/insulin/hunger rollercoaster. The issue had been physiological, not psychological. Maintenance is tricky. I'll admit it. For me, maintenance depends on being constantly aware of the certainty that I *will* regain weight if I allow those foods back into my life on a regular and consistent basis. I know it's true because I keep proving it to myself. I'll indulge at the holidays just a little too much and end up gaining 10 lbs in the blink of an eye. I have my redline weight. The number on the scale that is my danger zone. When I hit it, my food choices become the most important thing to focus on that day and I grit my teeth and spend the day fighting cravings as I come off sugar and flour once again. It doesn't matter what else is happening that day, this comes first because it has to. If it doesn't, I'm only a breath away from being 340 lbs again. Why have I been able to maintain this time when I haven't in the past? I think I finally got it that this was a problem that was with me forever. I wanted maintenance and my food choices to be natural and easy before. Now I know it will never be, it will always be work. Funnily enough, rather than that thought being overwhelmingly depressing, it's liberating. It's just who I am, a woman who will have to be vigilant and careful with food for the rest of my life. It's a small price to pay for my size 10s. Everyone says maintenance is harder than losing weight. I tend to disagree. It's more challenging, but it's not harder if that makes any sense. Living a day in a healthy, normal weight body is much easier than a day being overweight. You usually get more food in maintenance, too. All the cards are stacked in our favour. To answer the original question, I'd ask another question. You are going to have to live the rest of your life one way or another. Why give up? It doesn't get you anything. Give it another try. At least that way you have another shot at figuring out how to make maintenance work for you. None of us knew that this would be the time it worked. I went into my last weight loss attempt scared that it was futile, too. You can't win if you don't play and the reward is *so* worth the effort.

From Bobbi: The one thing I do no matter how depressed I get about gaining weight or feeling fat or trying to lose weight is that I never give up. I truly believe that there is a "remedy" for each one of us. My remedy was joining Trevose Behavior Modification. We meet once a week. During our meeting we get weighed in and share the experiences of our week. We are not supposed to talk about food, but rather the emotions, the ah ha's, the frustrations, etc. that we felt, discovered or over came. The support of the group is what keeps me going and that's why I've been going weekly for 8 years. I know without them I would gain my weight back. It used to be free, then became $1/week and now it's $2. The money goes to the main office [all volunteer staff]. The money is used to make copies of the monthly newsletter, food journals, etc.

If you don't have this group around you, maybe you can get some people together and start one. This is the gist: You need to journal your food and calories everyday. You need to do some type of exercise at least 5 days a week. You need to drink lots of water and other low cal fluids to help you not retain water. You need to stop eating in the car, the bathroom, the bedrooms, den, etc. Eating needs to be done in one room only. Pick that room [restaurants are considered "that" room"]. You need to change your eating habits. During every meal you need to leave a little over. We all put too much on our plates anyway so it shouldn't be to hard. Also, don't eat so quickly. Really be present and remember what it is like to taste the food and really enjoy it. Also, one thing that may help is keeping your food journal with you at all times. In Trevose, you really aren't supposed to eat if you can't write down your food right away.

So, the 5 behavior modifications of Trevose are:

Eat in the same place
Exercise
Leave a little food over
Slow down
Don't eat unless you have your journal with you

Now I know you're thinking that this is just toooo much. But let me tell you, over the 8 years I've been in my group a lot of men and women have come and gone. They leave because they get tired of journaling, exercising, whatever. Now let me tell you the truth. They have all gained back their weight if not more. Maintaining is almost harder than dieting [as you know]. So, if you want to learn more about this group you can email me at Logica62@aol.com. Good luck!!!!

Also, you can go to my blog http://bobbiesbabbles.blogspot.com/ for inspiration.
Of course, if this is Marie, than you are already on the right path!!  If it's not Marie, than I hope this helps you.

Spanx Isn’t the Only Support!

By Barbara Berkeley

I’m sure that I’m not alone in being amazed and impressed by Lynn’s diva group and the story of their weekend reunion. Their bond reminded me of the beginning of the novel “Howard’s End.” The book starts with a kind of motto that’s printed alone on the first page. This motto has just two words : “Only connect.” There has been much discussion about exactly what the author meant by this. I guess my interpretation is that “connection” is the key to what makes our lives both meaningful and successful. If we can “only connect” with others, we leave ourselves open to their knowledge, their love and their support. We form a larger unit. But sometimes connection is scary and sometimes it’s hard to find others who feel the same way. In other words, it’s easier said than done.

Lynn’s group is the ultimate in connectivity. Here are a bunch of women who had never met but who had shared the most intimate details of their lives. This was able to occur because of the Internet. It seems that Internet relationship building can have great strength. Could it be that when we are not distracted by someone’s physical appearance, are not watching their mannerisms or reacting to their voice, that we pay more attention to their thoughts?

I have always believed that one of the most important keys to successful weight maintenance (in fact, to any behavior change) is a support network that honors and validates the maintainer’s new choices. Lynn’s experience confirms this. Real back up is especially important because of the tendency of maintainers to encounter sabotage. It’s unfortunate, but many people are simply waiting for the moment when a maintainer will start putting it all back on. Frequently, these same people will put maintainers in the way of food, urge them to eat, or criticize their new life. A group of like-minded people helps remind us that we can be in this struggle together. That’s important.
Lynn has her divas and I’m surrounded by all the people I treat. Each one of them helps me stay on track. But what about you? If you are wondering how you might find support in that SAD world out there, I can offer a few suggestions:

1. There are many internet sites that are available to you and that will allow you to meet other maintainers. I’m going to leave it to Lynn to talk about some of these options, as she knows them better than I do. Of course, you can post comments on our own topic boards and get into discussions with people who visit this site. I encourage you to do that. If you get into a conversation with someone who seems interesting, exchange emails and continue your discussion privately if you prefer.

2. Local weight loss programs (Weight Watchers and other commercial programs) have meetings that are generally attended by their own clients. I encourage people who’ve lost weight in other ways to ask whether they could attend meetings during maintenance. Although you might be at a different point in your weight loss journey than others in the group, your experience and determination may be invaluable to others and you may gain support in return.

3. If you prefer one-on-one support, consider locating a good dietician---but make sure that it is someone who can get behind the diet plan you’ve chosen to follow in maintenance. Plan to meet once a month at minimum. You can also find the names of several dieticians and counselors on our site who are willing to perform this service over the phone or on the Internet.

4. If you are the proactive type, consider putting an ad in the local paper that says you are looking for people who have lost weight and seriously want to keep it off. Meet in each others’ homes and establish an agenda for each get-together. Possibilities include: cooking maintenance friendly recipes, inviting speakers, going out to dinner together, having a personal trainer visit and give work out advice, having a dietician take you on a grocery store tour. Be creative! If any of you decide to do this, please write in and let us know how it goes.

As always, Lynn and I are interested in you. If some of you have effectively solved this problem, we’d like to know how. Let us know where you are getting your strength and resolve. Are you doing all that solo or are there others around you? If so, who are they and what are they offering? We hope that our website is a small piece of your support structure and that it is a place where you know that all your efforts are understood and applauded. Please know that we both admire and value each and every one of you!

The Maintaining Divas Meet At Last

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

If you’re a maintainer and you hang out with people in maintenance, you find out just how normal you are, even though to the SAD (Standard American Diet) world you’re considered strange.

As you know, I went to Connecticut last weekend to meet the other four members of my maintenance support group, Maintaining Divas. While we talked a bit about maintenance, it was in our actions – the way we food shopped, cooked and ate both at AJ’s house and in restaurants – where our commitment to maintenance shined. Like most things grand and difficult, it’s easy to talk about maintenance. But we show our true mettle when we walk the walk.

My flight arrived early and Vicki’s flight was late, so Sondra, AJ, MA and I sat around the baggage claim getting familiar with each other’s voices and mannerisms. After all, it was the first time we’d met in person. I was a little hungry and so I dug out the whole grain crackers and cherry essence prunes I’d packed in my suitcase and shared them with my friends. Vicki soon arrived and we left for AJ’s. It didn’t take long to realize we were in the house of a maintainer. Dozens of healthy living cookbooks were stacked on a baker’s rack, a big bowl filled with apples, pears, and peaches sat on the counter next to three butternut squash, and in the fridge were zucchinis, tomatoes, peppers, eggs, yogurt, edamame, skim milk, low-fat cheese, and several containers of leftovers. AJ, who celebrated four years at goal on September 8, knows maintenance.

 

Vicki (in the peach shirt) arrives at the airport, hugged by MA, with AJ on the left and me on the right.

We chose to eat at Houlihan’s for dinner and I was relieved when no one blinked an eye when I gave the server my nightmare order that usually elicits eye rolls from my dining companions: BBQ Salmon Salad without salmon, wonton strips or sweet citrus vinaigrette, but instead, add a bunch of tomatoes and put balsamic dressing on the side. Oh, and a plain baked potato with a little butter on the side. And a side of steamed broccoli, no butter.

 

At Houlihan's: me, Frank (AJ's husband who didn't seem to mind having four women invade his house), AJ, Sondra, Vicki and MA.

The next day (as on Sunday) we ate breakfast at AJ’s – lots of fruit, Fiber One cereal (that was Sondra, not me. Fiber One and I are not good friends, unfortunately), and veggie omelets. We went shopping and when we got hungry, we at lunch at Ruby Tuesdays where we ordered the salad bar – an impressive array of veggies, edamame, light dressings and my favorite dark green lettuces, not my nemesis iceberg, something that shouldn’t be allowed to call itself lettuce, but I digress.

Later we had coffee and then went home to chop veggies for dinner. For myself (and I shared), I roasted squash, carrots, zucchini, onions, asparagus and broccoli. Sondra sautéed a bunch of things to put on their whole-wheat pasta. I think they had shrimp, too. I was going to have a soy burger but opted for some parmesan cheese on my veggies instead. We swapped cooking techniques and spice preferences, and talked about men and work and the economy and the election and dogs and cats and hair color and pedicures and vitamins and doctors and, well, you get the idea. This weekend was not focused on food and deep discussions about maintenance. That’s what people do at a conference or convention. This was a gathering of friends who happened to meet because we’d lost 651 pounds and needed someone to talk to about it once in awhile. Most of the while, we talked about other stuff. And took lots of photos.

 

Making breakfast for Vicki and me.

Lest you think us food tyrants, we Divas were not without snacks once in awhile. A few soy crisps, some hummus, fat-free pudding mix stirred into Greek yogurt, and a couple of fat-free brownies that we shared over wine and mead around midnight were treats we enjoyed in reasonable quantities, although I admit my stomach was a bit thrown off by the late-night eating. Amazing how conditioned our stomachs get to a schedule.

 

Vicki in her pjs and MA holding the mead.

I didn’t expect the saying goodbye to be so hard. In less than 48 hours, I formed a lasting bond with women I’d not have otherwise known were out there in the world without a similar commitment to weight loss and maintenance as mine. It’s not every day you meet folks like that, so saying goodbye was a little tough. But back at our respective homes, we took up where we left off, typing our messages to each other daily on our discussion board, only this time I can hear their voices in their words and see their expressions and smiles in their syntax and language.

We agree we are better maintainers and better friends for having met last weekend and we’re already planning our next get-together. We feel safe in each other’s presence to live the lives we find ourselves living in maintenance. This doesn’t mean we’re not safe or comfortable with people who are living the SAD life. Far from it. It’s just really nice to gather with a group of folks who “get it.” No apologies, no explanations, no excuses. Just an understanding among friends.

 

AJ, Lynn, Vicki, MA and Sondra: The Maintaining Divas. All good divas deserve a maintenance tiara :)

What Lies Beneath

By Barbara Berkeley

On our recent trip to Europe, our family visited Barcelona—a lovely, unchanged Spanish city with a quixotic streak. Nothing seems to express the odd allure of Barcelona as well as the architecture of Antoni Gaudi. Gaudi, who lived from 1852 to 1926, created some of the most surreal buildings and public works imaginable. His Cathedral in Barcelona has turrets that look like they are made out of melted ice cream and internal pillars in the shape of enormous, cartoon-like trees. Gaudi’s buildings undulate, sag and wrap around. They have odd wrought iron balustrades, peculiar gargoyles and inlays of wildly colorful mosaic tile. If Gaudi’s work looks defiantly non-conventional today, it is hard to imagine the reception it must have received in 1920.

Among Gaudi’s major works in Barcelona is the Parc Guell, a huge open space that is perpetually filled with visitors. The park is built on a hill and climbs up and up until it comes to rest on a large, open terrace that looks out over the city. Around the perimeter, Gaudi installed a rambling, concrete bench whose back is entirely inlaid with tiles of every color. It is here that people sit and watch the crowd or take photographs to send back home.

On a hot, sunny day several weeks ago, my family visited the Parc Guell and rather breathlessly climbed its hills to ascend to the top. Panting a bit, we sat down on the bench and gazed at the busy sea of strolling people. No sooner had we caught our breath than my younger daughter shouted, “Look over there!” We all turned. There, walking at a leisurely pace, were two men. One was dressed in a plaid shirt and a neatly pressed pair of walking shorts and was placidly photographing the scene. By his side strolled a companion wearing a baseball hat, a pair of sneakers and…..absolutely nothing else. This being Europe, there was very little commotion. Nor was there a policeman in sight. The two men continued their walk, completely undisturbed. There were many children in the park as well as people of all ages. Not a single one appeared to be bothered by the naked man. If they noticed him at all, they weren’t going to be seen acknowledging him. We stayed in the park for some time and came across the naked man several times. He seemed to be enjoying himself and we never found out if he was spending a day in the nude on a dare, as a piece of performance art or just because he liked the feel of the breeze on his rear end.

Whatever the reason, the naked man stuck in my mind. Not because he had a body to remember or even because seeing him was shocking. To the contrary---his naked walk has continued to stay with me because it was so very ordinary. And I think, too, because the incident made me appreciate the degree to which each of us covers up and conceals our naked selves. We rarely spend time with our body in the state in which it was born. We cover up to protect ourselves from being seen by others and also, I think, to avoid seeing ourselves. We don’t want to look. In a strange way, the absolute comfort of the naked man made me feel a bit jealous.
On the heels of the Barcelona experience, it was particularly interesting then to have one of my most successful maintenance patients (let’s call her Anna) visit me this morning. She entered the office carrying what looked like a large leather photo album. After congratulating her on once again maintaining the weight she’d lost she lifted the album off her lap and pushed it toward me.

“I wanted to show these to you,” she said.

“What are they?” I asked.

“Well,” she said, “I decided to have a series of photos taken in the nude.”

I was completely taken aback.

“You did?” I stammered. “Why did you want to do that???”

Anna was completely relaxed and utterly certain of herself.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” she explained. “I’m going to be 60 years old soon and right now I look the best I ever have. I work out every day, I’m at a really good weight and I’m very proud of what I’ve done. I decided that now was the time to document myself and do something I’ve always wished I could do. When I approached the photographer, he said no at first. ‘We don’t do that,’ he said. But then I told him that I just wanted tasteful pictures, not explicit ones and he agreed to take them.”

With that, she put the book in my hand.

The photos were quite beautiful. I must admit that the photographer did a masterful job of lighting and posing. None of the pictures revealed anything more than you could see in any commercial for soap or underwear— but it was obvious that Anna had to have been completely unclothed while the pictures were composed. I was amazed by her boldness.

“I don’t have any problems with modesty,” she said shrugging.

Who would see these pictures and what would happen to them, I wondered? Anna already had that planned out.

“I’ll put them in my safe right next to my will,” she said simply. “Someday when I’m gone, my nephews – who love me very much – will find them and get a kick out of their eccentric aunt!”

I drove home from the office in awe of Anna and wishing that I had the guts to face up to my own naked self as she had done. Even more, I wished that I could have an unabashed sense of pride in every incarnation of myself: the clothed one and the unclothed one. 

So often, people who have lost weight tell me that they are disappointed with the end result. Somehow, the perfection they have been seeking eludes them. My encounters with Anna and the naked man made me see this disappointment in a different way. Perhaps we all need to spend more time with our bodies in the unclothed state. If life is about collecting and making peace with imperfections, how freeing it must be to feel entirely comfortable with what lies beneath.

Adapting to Changes: Flexibility and Maintenance

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

I had a humbling reminder the other day that not everyone’s schedules are created equal. Although my schedule is tighter than it used to be, I need to be more appreciative of its flexibility and learn to use it to my advantage.

As I was losing weight, I was in awe (and still am) of people who worked full time, raised children and/or were otherwise crazy busy and yet still made time to eat right and exercise. It’s that kind of commitment to self that, for me, is becoming stymied due to my lack of time management skills. As my schedule gets increasingly more busy, it’s time I examined the habits of disciplined people and learned from their example. If I don’t, maintenance could become a bit dicey, and fast.

Here’s what made me wake up and take notice of this potential pothole on Maintenance Avenue. One of the members of my maintenance support group board posted that she learned her 24-hour gym was cutting back and would no longer be open 24 hours: “Okay... my bummer for the morning. I got to the gym at 3:30ish...” Stop right there. 3:30? As in 3:30 a.m.? Yup. My friend, who works full time and part time, is a mom, and is maintaining a 115-pound loss, gets up and to her gym at 3:30 in the morning to work out for at least an hour, usually more.

Her post continued: “…(I) said good morning to my gym guy. He says he has bad news. The gym isn't going to be 24-hour anymore after Sept. 1. It will only be open 5 a.m. to midnight. I am not sure what I am going to do. I have my day arranged so that I can get everything in. Something is going to have to change and I don't know what. There are two other gyms within a mile or so that are also 24-hour, but they are both much more expensive. The other thought is I stop working (the part-time job) and go at night. I just would have to go after (my son) goes to bed at 9 p.m. because I am not going to take away more time from him.”

Her part-time job involves helping other people with their weight-loss journeys and she’s really good at it, having coached me many times along my own path back in the day and now in maintenance. She loves what she does, but she’s willing to give it up to meet her own maintenance needs. How many times do we put the needs of others before ours, even when to do so is a detriment to our own well being?

There’s a deeper commitment to maintenance that, after nearly 18 months, I’m just beginning to understand. It’s something bigger than I realized, something I nearly took for granted until my own schedule became hectic. It’s the commitment to change when necessary.

We all make decisions on the fly every day. Easy choices such as do I eat broccoli or carrots? Should I wear a skirt or a dress? This perfume or that? When life gets in the way of set decisions (such as my friend’s gym changing its hours) and demands I switch up the way I do things, this is where my problem arises. I’m not as flexible as I could be or need to be. If I can’t eat as planned or work out as planned, I’m not always prepared with the best Plan B. I’m like a deer in the headlights: “What the…?” and this really needs to change.

I’ve got a few ideas, but I’d like to hear yours. How do you adapt to changes in your routine? If you’re thrown off, how do you recover and adapt? I’m learning coping mechanisms by observing busy and flexible people on maintenance, but it’s a good idea that we talk about what works when a stick is thrown in the spokes of our perfect planning. How do we maintain in times of change, trouble, or everyday life?

As always, leave a comment or send me an email at refusetoregain@gmail.com. I really appreciate your voice in this discussion.