Back on the Wagon #6

I went out walking today. I took my camera so I could try and capture the feel of Preston and Idaho before I leave. Something to get all gushy about when I think Manhattan sucks.

I had three miles. Three quiet miles to think about how I'm leaving these people and this area behind. The people who know what branding a cow smells like and practice things like irrigation, well-digging and crop-rotation. The culture that keeps families close (suffocatingly so), goes to church every Sunday and talks about the ONE mugging that happened in our town last month. I'm KIND of getting why my parents would like this place... no cars. no traffic. fewer worries about your kids running around with the 'wrong' crowds (in pleasantville they don't exist).

Preston is in Cache Valley near the tip of the Rocky Mountains. We can usually tell East or West depending on which mountains we see... North and South are Open sky. 

With Traffic like this it's amazing people get anywhere. heh. I saw a grand total of 28 cars over the course of three miles. 

Local Color. 

The view from the field behind our house. Idaho is SO BROWN. 

Today's menu
Breakfast: pear+raspberries+ 2 squares of dark chocolate
Snack: Orange + plum
Lunch: Chicken breast w/pesto and goat cheese.
Snack: carrots+cucumber slices.
Dinner: Tomato, steamed brussel sprouts + smoked salmon (3oz)
Snack: Honey greek yogurt w/ raspberries.

Work out
3 mile walk.

3 rounds of... 
20 low abs.
10 side plank dips: right.
10 side plank dips: left.
60 second plank

10 minute lap swim.

I'm heading out to the pools with mom tonight. I went last night as well. I will miss the hot pools for sure. I spent a good hour talking to my Aunt Loenza today. She was a potty pit stop on the way home from the walk. Small town. Big families. Always a bathroom nearby. Ha!

Big Fat Small Town Love,
Nanette

My relationship with food (novella).

I was reading Mir's blog today... she'd talked about the psychological issues between dieters and lasting success. You know, the whole re-evaluate your relationship with food thing.

I am lucky. I am young. Granted, I'm also the fattest person in the E2E challenge. So I'm not sure if that says my "issues" with food are more terrible or aggressive.. etc. But I still consider myself lucky to be attacking these habits before they'd become more engrained.

A lot of where we come from, or how we approach food starts in youth. Mom is a closet eater. Dad was morbidly obese. I have three older brothers who didn't pitfall into obsessive eating patterns. I didn't start packing on the pounds until I was in 5th grade and bodily changes started happening - of course. I started to feel bad for myself, particularly about always being the slow one at tag during recess and I compensated with books, knowledge and a quick tongue.

I earned my own money at a very young age by working for my dad. I would buy my own sweets and mom and dad couldn't regulate that. It was MY money. I always bought in excess and I was usually active enough that I didn't see the results until I stopped growing (vertically). Little Debbies, candy bars, string cheese. I loved to eat them one by one, layer by layer, while reading Rohl Dahl's books about poor unfortunate children overcoming evil parents and victimizing situations.

My brothers would sort of do the same thing. Joe had a padlock on his giant box of goldfish crackers and David had his power bars and Lincoln had Subway. So I guess our backgrounds were more similar than I'd thought. In a way we all struggled with addiction... except for maybe David. Lincoln was a meth addict, Joseph was always neck deep in something REALLY NERDY. Mine was food.

Food was how dad and I bonded. Food was how I made myself feel better. Food was how I distanced myself. Food was how I rewarded myself. Food was my secret indulgence. Food was also DELICIOUS. Food played a lot of roles in my life while growing up.

I really started fattening up when I gave up swimming. I used to spend entire summers in the pool, until I discovered I was a total freak and had a zit on my shoulder and then gave up the swim suit for 8 years.  I gained most of my weight in 8 years. It's incredible to put a number to how long it took me to gain 150+lbs.

During that 8 years our family went through Lincoln dealing with some severe drug problems. Which in turn, became family problems... emotional problems... escapism problems. We went through some family counseling. I only went to two or three sessions and the therapist told me that for having such tumultuous relationships around me and feelings inside, I seemed pretty well adjusted and then he concentrated on Lincoln.

Well-adjusted = being able to step back from a situation to protect myself from experiencing difficult emotions. I had a lot of depressive thoughts and terrible self-esteem. I used food to help create distance. I hid under a fat blanket. My body literally became a barrier between me and the crap in the family, community and school.

Then I escaped to college and the weight gain stopped for about a year. Then started again when school go tough. My instructors got personal and my peers were even more difficult to deal with... Then we start having issues with religion. I nearly quit my degree and then went into counseling.

In counseling we talked about the music department mainly and how I felt trapped and I needed to graduate. Ultimately the conclusion was that I needed to accept accountability for life and decisions. Life is not something that just happens to someone. We are not powerless to control our direction and "destiny."

The counselor tried to talk to me about weight and I went from weepy to fire breathing dragon in mere seconds. I wasn't ready to tame that issue yet. But I'm sure it was apparent that I was fighting my stress with food and inactivity and unhealthy choices. I'm sure that a lot of my stress, anger and feelings of being overwhelmed could have used some good cardio instead of tears.

However, having reached one giant understanding of my unhappiness (that accountability thing) and the end of the semester, I quit counseling. I did two more years of school without murdering my peers or professors. I got more involved in student government. I had some leadership positions. Because if I was going to complain about how things were run, I was going to try and help shape things or understand the system better. I stressed. I ate. I got angry... for two years. Then I finished my senior recital. Gave up my leadership positions. Started working out. Started eating better. Started working 40 hour weeks.

And that's where I am now. I am in control of my life... I am responsible for the decisions I make. PARTICULARLY concerning my body. Food is a my coping mechanism. It's where I turn when I'm angry, stressed, happy, sad, lonely. That's what I'm up against - emotions, really. When I experience emotion, I eat.

Now, I'm much better at keeping my emotions in check and level than I was before. So the temptations happen less. But not experiencing the extremes of my personal emotional roller coaster sometimes doesn't feel like really living. I'm not medicated. I don't think I need to be. I'm pretty good at being my own anti-depressant and sometimes I just need to experience my depression so I can get past it.

Not all of my days are good ones. But that's typical and healthy. Not all of my days are bad ones either.

I've been arguing with myself this week... I'm sad the artistic/angsty part of myself has almost disappeared. It provided me with a lot of good inspiration for art, music, writing... but I can definitely say that I am happier now than I've been since 5th grade.

Sometimes work sucks. Sometimes friends suck. Sometimes the negative blog comments suck. But I can let it go. Maybe not immediately. But I can feel my feelings and release them... instead of shoving them in my mouth (along with calories) and hoping that I can poop them out. heh! This is something to work on for life... and here I am, trying to accept that early before I become even more stuck in my own ways.


Big Fat Where I Come From Love,
Nanette

Ps. If you made it through all that, you get six points. Redeemable for awesome.

When I Look In The Mirror

Okay, so at this time last year I was prepping for my senior recital. I was eating my feelings, practicing like a crazy woman and flying out to NYC to have my dress made (which fell through and I wound up having to just buy one - which was hard). I was probably mid-6th respiratory infection of the school year and being consumed by apathy.

Because of all that... I had measurements done for the dress. And I just found them again. I can't wait to compare.

Basics - feb 17 2011  new number in blue, march 12, 2011

neck - 16.5" 15.5

Chest - 53.5" 50.

Chest w Breath - 54.25" 51.5

Underbust - 51" 43" (I'm pretty sure that it was taken over a shirt or something the first time)

Waist - 53"47.5

underwaist - 66.5" 58

hips 63.25" 62

Total inches lost: 27.75 

The measurements were taken 2 months before the recital. So by that time I was even larger... and larger and larger until May when I stopped getting bigger and maintained for a while before weaning things like corn syrup and aspartame out of the diet - then doing a juice reboot. 

There are days when I feel like I am just as fat as before. There are also days when I can tell certain things are changing... Like I KNOW my thighs are getting slimmer and I'm losing that weird fat rainbow above my butt and down my hips. And I know that no matter what happens, I'm probably not going to be a huge wearer of bikinis, or taut, or a hard body because of skin issues. 

The days I feel just as fat as before, I notice how the loose skin around my thighs wobbles more than when it was pulled tight with fat. I notice that while the inches are changing, it's just like gravity is pulling down on all my fat. I still have to be conscientious about how long my shirts are in front... 

Then I have a day like today when I realize that shaving my armpits was easier because I can see them better, or that I can wear necklaces that I previously couldn't because of neck fat, or that I'm beginning to get calf definition - and more than just a suggestion of it. 

I was looking at a progress photo (too naked to share) this week and I can tell I'm getting smaller... I also couldn't help comparing myself to a Salvador Dali painting... I looked melty and like i'm deflating. AKA: NOT SEXY. And I get it. I did this to me. Skin takes a while to bring in. Tone as you go. I'm trying to keep my chin up. I'm a body in transition. Gotta be patient. Though, I'll tell you what, under this fat suit, I'm ripped. The interval training I've been doing has me very aware of how much muscle I actually DO have. 

My dad was really excited about my progress this week. I'm proud of him as well. He's able to move so much better than before. He's able to put on his own braces. Get up and around. He can get himself up off the floor when he falls (didn't see that), but he's capable. He's trying to move more. I can see that he doesn't really want to. He doesn't like doing the exercises. They cause him pain. But he sees the results, he's able to do more than lay in a bed while doing word finds and reposting his latest ultra conservative finds on facebook. I'm so happy that he's getting some of his mobility back and that his quality of life is improving. 

After the fattitude post, rettakat mentioned some of the regret she's had and how she chooses to be happy every day. I talked to my dad about that. I asked him "Do you regret not losing weight sooner?" 

"No. I regret letting myself ever get that big. I've done damage to my joints and nerves that I can never undo by allowing myself to get that large." He followed that with a lot of supportive talk about my own weight loss and that he hopes I can keep my fire for it burning. 

Well, I can and will. My recital dress is too big now. I imagine it's going to be my fat item of clothing that I hang onto. You know... the before and after photos with the person standing in one leg of their pants... that will be the dress. 

Filling it out. 

Today. You'd never guess this was tailored. 

Big Fat Body Image Love, 

Nanette

Travel plans for the weekend.

I'm going home this weekend. I don't do that much, even though it's only an hour away. But not having a car, it may as well be 10 hours away. I have mixed feelings about the whole thing... I enjoy the family aspect, I don't enjoy the tension. Usually there's arguing or mom talking about dad or dad talking about mom and me left to mediate and I just don't want to. Then they both get mad at me when I disappear for a few hours to visit friends who are still in the home town or go to Logan to visit my brother... because "you just got here. What about family time?" Family time = watching TV, or sitting silently in the same room working on separate projects. 

But I'm moving in 3 months - across the country - and I won't see them for a while. So I may as well take advantage while it's only an hour away instead of a $300 plane ticket away. I'm going to be trying to go down every other week until I leave. 

So I've rescheduled my piano lesson for today. Having a tea date with a long lost friend, Jacob. And packing, who am I kidding... I'm taking my backpack and my dirty laundry bag. I'm also taking my debit card so i can grocery shop when I get there. Mom and dad don't usually have the greatest selection of fresh fruit and veg, or healthy cooking items. I may take an insulated lunch bag of things on the verge of spoiling from my house too. Trying not to waste the produce... sometimes it beats me to the punch. 

Since I'll be gone...  I've got to get my entire weekend to do list done today by 5 as well. 

- DO THE DISHES. 

- Sort the laundry. 

- clean the bathroom

- return library books. 

- make the menu (eh, I could do that at the parents). 

- design a couple work outs I can do at the parents. 

I won't be back to my scale until sunday evening MST around 5pm. So I'll have to do a place holder check in for E2E. Same thing with Allan's challenge. 

Big Fat Weekend Love, 

Nanette

For Maren - Fattitude.

I'm taking Maren up on her suggestion to write a blog about self-worth and fat. 

She wrote a post about finding the body love while still being fat and wrote it quite well...   Also Myra's response post got me thinking. 

"Joy in the Journey" is a phrase I've heard a thousand times over growing up...   and then in the music world, they tell you that the practicing has to be just as satisfying as the performance. So here we are... Fat. In transition. Can we find the happiness in that? Sure thing! 

I don't believe that being happy, while fat, means that you're not going to change or that you've become contented and complacent with your size. I can love my body and still work on it. As Maren said, we are more than our fat. We are complex people with varying interests and challenges. 

If we have to be sad because we're fat, then I could logically conclude that being thin is happiness and that's just not true. The baggage (emotional) that we carry along with our fat baggage needs just as much work and processing in order to be happy people. 

I've said it a few times... My dad lost his weight too late. He can't really enjoy the benefits of being thin. He still hurts. He's lost a lot of muscle. He's replaced so many body parts. His health is STILL affected by his years spent above 500lbs. I suspect that he thought he'd be happy when he lost weight... and it became this magical place in his mind "lost weight" or "skinny" or "thin." A place where there is limitless energy and recaptured youth and rainbows and puppies and the occasional slice of pizza. 

Well... he's lost weight. He's thin. He's spend the last 2 years in and out of hospitals, bed-ridden. He's still struggling to be a happy person. He's struggling to enjoy life. He still has a short temper. He still says mean things. He still has money problems. He still gets frustrated when he can't do things or when he needs help. He still likes to spend the majority of his time in front of a computer or a television. He doesn't go outside much or get very physical. He lost weight. But he isn't happy... He's still on that journey.

I believed that if Dad were thin, things would get better. I really did believe he would be happier, more kind, more patient. Now I know better. Thin doesn't mean any of that. Thin means carrying around a lot less physical weight - which has a plethora of positive benefits, if you can take advantage of them. 

Don't get me wrong... I love my dad through and through. He's a tough nut, but when you get past the shell, he's all softness. I'm a complete daddy's girl - which makes it harder to watch his health decline and see him turn into a confined ornery old cuss. 

My family in 2005? I was still in high school. In this pic, my dad had already lost about 100-150lbs. And the tall guy in the back... yeah... he's not standing on anything, he's just 6'7"

Achieving a certain weight does not mean you'll be happy and that problems will be solved. Happiness is based entirely on how you choose to view your life. 

I wrote this as a response to Myra's blog.. 

One must enjoy the practice as well as the performance or one will spend the majority of the time miserable. Eating right and exercising can be challenging AND fun... not just something to endure until we're thin - because if we haven't learned to be happy by then, the problem isn't weight, but attitude.

And I think that's the most succinct way I could say it.

Big Fat and Happy Love,
Nanette

Where we come from...

I was reading April's Blog this morning... She was talking a little bit about her weight loss progress. And what mental state she was in to get to her highest weight...

There have been so many times over the course of my life that I told myself, "I'll never be as big as her," or "I'll never get over 250lbs, 300lbs, 350lbs." But I never did anything to avoid reaching those weights, those milestones. It was temporary motivation to slow down my eating but never changed my relationship with my food. In a way I was distracted, always too busy... never felt an urgency to change. I had a lot of people try to wake me up, particularly since my whole life has been performance oriented. Those temporary motivations flew out the window when a pizza was in the room, or a candy bar.

I don't think of myself as disabled or fat. I have fat. Fat is a part of me, but I am not fat. I am Nanette. In a way, it's been a good thing. I'm hoping that as the scale goes down and I get healthier I will still be Nanette. I don't want to be thin. I want to be Nanette. On the other hand, it's a bad thing. It's allowed me to entirely dissociate from my body. It helped me ignore the things I couldn't do anymore. I haven't always been okay with being fat. But I wasn't ready to be proactive about it when I was younger... it wasn't something I was interested in. I didn't have the resources. It just wasn't time for it. If I would have started younger, I'm quite positive I would have failed and then continued with a yo-yo dieting mentality.

It also helped that I had the mentality of "dad will always be fatter than me." I love my dad. No matter what size (actually, I liked him more when he was fat. He was less of a curmudgeon.). Not once did I feel like he loved me less because he couldn't play on the floor or chase me around. Dad had a series of health problems. He lost weight. He got down to around my weight... and then I started getting nervous. Dad continued to lose...   At 67 years old, he's now around 240 and if he had his excess skin removed he would be around 200. Watching dad lose weight and get healthier was inspiring, sure. He did it too late though. His skin won't retract. His diabetes is in full swing. He still has muscular problems related to being dormant for so long.

Last fall (2010) dad injured his foot at work. It wouldn't heal. He described going to sleep the day before thanksgiving... he felt his heart slow down... and he started going cold all over. He couldn't move his body. He couldn't shout for help. (mom sleeps upstairs). The next morning, he told mom about it and she took him to the emergency room. His blood sugar was over 400. His foot was severely infected and was not healing due to poor circulation/diabetes. He wound up in the hospital for over a month with staph infection. Antibiotics were pumped directly into his heart.   ALL OF THIS WAS OVER A SMALL CUT ON THE BOTTOM OF HIS FOOT!

He was put on non-weight bearing limitations. This thanksgiving (2011), he hadn't walked in over a year, still waiting for this small cut to heal. He wound up in the emergency room again. He couldn't feel his other leg. Back problems. Blown discs cemented. Still numbness and an inability to move his left leg. pinched nerve. back surgery. bone shave. pins. rods. scars. He's in a nursing home getting physical therapy to help him recover from the back surgery. He's been there since thanksgiving.

All of this could have been prevented with earlier weight loss. All of this, in addition to finishing my degree and needing the next project and the next step to working and living.... it's finally the right time. Dad has had elbows replaced, multiple back surgeries, both knees replaced, cartilage problems. But for some reason... the physical issues that continued after he lost the weight is more effective in inspiring me to get myself moving. Get myself in gear. Prevent that kind of life. Increase the quality of my own.

I'd love to say it was my own idea. I had switched to a new voice teacher over the summer. Like every new voice teacher, she addressed my weight. "This doesn't need to count against you. At auditions people will dismiss you purely on size." FINALLY a teacher that talks truth. "When you come back, I want you to tell me how your practicing went and I want you to tell me what you've done this week to lose weight. It's not to intimidate you, or make you feel bad. It's to hold you accountable." I tried stuff for a couple weeks. I would increase activity, or eat more veggies... but not really keeping tally or a record of progress.

My cousin, Amber, told me about Mir's blogging CDC challenge. I joined up not knowing what I was getting myself into... but making a commitment to myself. Since then I've been researching. I've been tracking. I've been learning about nutrition and exercise. I read an article about motivation... motivation happens in 4 stages...

- the initial spark.
- mentally preparing yourself... thinking yourself through.
- sustained commitment.
- habit/self renewing motivation (the feel good of doing well that inspires you to keep going).

I'm the fattest person in our little E2E challenge. I also have the advantage of being the youngest person in this challenge. I know I can do this. I work out 3x a week or more. I struggle to keep my diet in line. But I DO. If I can haul my fat ass off of the couch or out of bed and go jogging, you can too. I can do high impact aerobics without hurting myself. I can modify. I can bear all 320 of my pounds. Bones get stronger with weight bearing exercise. Be smart. But if you don't push yourself, you don't grow.

If you get used to moving your body and working out at your current weight, it will only get EASIER as that number goes down... and believe me, it will.

Big Fat Fattest Challenger Love,
Nanette

A Boise Weekend.

Just got back from a fun weekend in Boise. I got to visit friends who have graduated and/or moved on from the college life. I made new friends. I tried new things. I even got a visit to the gym in. I didn't track calories. But I know I did okay.

Ashley, the one who invited me to stay with her, paid for my bus ticket to and from in exchange for voice lessons. It was such a great experience to teach her. She was responsive and bodily aware. It was definitely more rewarding than the high school student I taught last semester. Her accompanist, Esteban, was so wonderful. He's a classical guitarist. They were working on Bachianas Brasileras. It was the most healthy and helpful collaboration I've ever witnessed. Esteban was happy to hear what I was doing with Ashley and commented on a lot of the things that were working. I found out after the lessons that Esteban has his doctorate from Indiana University (prestigious music program). I love that I had no idea. He chose to just be a musician instead of a doctor of music. He was without pretension. It's possible! It gives me faith that I can escape this program and hopefully find a collaboration of my own that's just as rewarding.

We went to a couple bars. We danced. MAN did we dance (cardio)! My hips are still tight. She threw a house party in my honor. A few of the other Boise friends came out of the woodwork in addition to strangers that she ran into that day and her own collection of people she wanted to share. It was a collection of free-minded, love everyone, hippies. There was a man named Og sporting dreds, one enormous gauged ear, who hugged me and greeted me as "sister." There was also a lot of talk about Burning Man and Rainbow Family Gatherings. A man named Calvin - as in calvin and hobbes, and yes he some times has an imaginary friend. Joe, Jason, Jack, James... I would tell you more if I could remember which one was which. heh.

Ashley, Me, Lindz 

My Aunt LD had me over for an art party. We play with new techniques and toys whenever I go there. We throw around different visual ideas for journaling or expression in general. I'm meaning to put together a positive affirmation page or visual goals... I need to buy a couple health magazines. I have plenty of weight loss pages. But not many envisioning a thin healthy future.

Yet to be finished, painted this weekend

Favorite part though. Ashley works at an all vegetarian tea house. So lovely tea. Lovely veggie burgers. Thorough menu. Spicy kale chips. We (Ashley, Lindz and I) went on Ashley's day off and had lunch. We painted there. Lindz got out her loom and was weaving a scarf. It was a really laid back vibe. No one was going to get mad at us for using our water glasses to rinse paint brushes. :)

I weighed in yesterday when I got back and went to work out. I actually lost a pound! 332! So I consider the vacation a healthy release with a few minor indulgences. I'm excited that until Jan 2 I have no school or work so I can relax, paint, work out, research healthier food and work out options and COOK!

Off to the gym with Trent,
Nanette

CDCC

last week's check in was 339... still maintaining.

I'm sure this week is a gain. But I won't know until swim class on tuesday.

My laptop is still down. More when I get it back. :(

Nanette

P.S. Dad had his second back surgery. He's in a full time rehabilitation facility and doing much better... but it's going to be a very long time until he walks again. They're working on having him sit for longer amounts of time. He's up to 20 minutes. Soon he'll be doing transfers from bed to wheelchair to toilet and etc.

EDIT: This week 329 AGAIN! - at least it's not a gain after the holiday.

Technical Difficulties

Due to technical difficulties this blog is brought to you late...

AND I still owe you a weigh in. I'm going swimming at 4 o'clock so I'll be able to get that finally.

I've been eating okay. Staying under my caloric limit, but not eating the healthiest of things and not with the healthiest of timing this last week. But it's finally Thanksgiving Break! I can sit back and relax and catch up on everything stressing me out as far as school goes and not let that get in the way anymore.

I refuse to sleep in over the break... I can't get into that habit. That's how this person misses dance class and everything else! UGH!

I'm sad, my laptop backlight has shorted out. Everything is still functioning... Hopefully I can get that fixed when I'm closer to Salt Lake this week.

My dad is having more health difficulties. He woke up and couldn't feel or move his legs this last week and got himself to the ER in town, they couldn't do the x-rays he needed, so he went to Logan, they did the x-rays but don't have the specialists that they need, so he wound up in OGDEN... (2 hours from where he lives). They did an emergency back surgery to correct a pinched nerve and put some supports between his lumbar vertebrae. He's still having some issues and a LOT of pain. So he's back into surgery today... I guess they're trying to widen the holes that the nerves go through so they don't catch. However, this could also be nerve death happening. Which is scary.

It's a whole bunch of muddy feelings. I mean, I'm glad he's finally getting this looked at and taken care of. I hope he feels better. I also suspect that this is the beginning of a long road of declining health, which is terrible. But I suppose I'd best prepare myself for the hardest truth and celebrate when I'm wrong? Something like that. He's 68 and spent most of his life above the 400lb mark. With his foot injury from last year and the massive infections, he hasn't been out of a wheel chair and back to normal functions for over a year now. The antibiotics have killed his digestive system. And he might be getting a little worn out as far as fighting to get better goes. Though he's incredibly optimistic when he's doped up and not feeling pain. That's probably a feeling he's gotten used to for so many years, being in pain.

I dunno... but as long as praying is happening out there... maybe shoot some his way?

Big Fat Thanksgiving in a Hospital Love,
Nanette