Thanksgiving

Holidays in general aren’t particularly great for people trying to lose weight, since most of them are so food-oriented. And generally speaking, the food is not the healthiest. Easter baskets stuffed with candy, Halloween bags stuffed with candy, hot dogs and hamburgers and shortcake and ice cream on the 4^th of July, cookies and pies and whipped cream and all sorts of other things on Christmas, finger foods and snacks on New Year’s Eve, and more. But the most challenging, I find, is Thanksgiving.

I don’t think you could design a holiday with more mixed messages if you tried. On the one hand, one of the major things almost anyone trying to lose weight is supposed to bear in mind is portion control. Some diets propose (and I agree) that it’s okay to eat sweet things, or fatty foods, as long as they’re in small, amounts. Then we come to Thanksgiving where, as my brother commented yesterday, you’re supposed to eat to the point of being as stuffed as the turkey.

The problem, of course, is that the first Thanksgiving (and the second, third, and many after) took place when people didn’t always have a lot of food. Up until the point of harvest, gardens don’t provide very much in the way of sustenance, and people had no choice but to live off whatever they had preserved from the year before until the bounty of the new year started to roll in. Then, when it did, it made sense to really indulge, to fatten up while they could, knowing that fat would be burned off in the lean times.

The tricky part is that most of us today don’t live in that kind of world. Most of us who can afford to have an all-out, gut-busting Thanksgiving can afford to have enough food on our table throughout the year. For someone trying to lose weight, partaking of the turkey, gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce, peas, corn, mashed potatoes, squash, rolls, endless numbers of pies, and who knows what else results in the complete opposite of thankfulness. Instead, stepping on the scale the next day and discovering that you’ve gained back in a single day those three or four or five pounds it took you weeks to lose is more than an enormous setback; it makes you feel guilty and sick that you didn’t have more self-control. Yes, you might lose the weight again fairly quickly, but it puts you on the wrong side of the scale. On the other hand, if you don’t participate in the ritual of eating, you feel extremely self-conscious and lonely with your meager plate while watching other people unabashedly eating enormous amounts of food.

I don’t necessarily have a solution for this, and I can’t claim that I’ve been a paragon of virtue in this regard – I did gain a pound yesterday, and only didn’t gain more because I walked over three miles. It’s just something to bear in mind as the holidays roll around, and to be sensitive of for those around us who are desperately trying not to over-eat, even (or especially) on this day when it’s expected of us.

The Thinnest City in the U.S. – New York

Traveling the week of Thanksgiving has become an annual tradition for my brother, my niece and me. This year we went to New York City, and on Tuesday, as we were walking a mile through Central Park to get to our subway station, my brother commented, “It’s easy to see why New York is the thinnest city in the country.”

I hadn’t actually known that, but it made sense. For instance, consider the number of stairs. You run into this a lot in any city with a subway system, but I always seem to forget the reality of it until I’m back in such a city. Some stations, of course, are handicapped accessible, or have escalators, but that’s not a guarantee that they even work. It means that simply getting from place to place involves a fair amount of walking, and of stairs.

It’s not just the subway, though. Being densely populated, NY goes up much more than out, with many of its iconic images rising tall and majestic into the sky. One example is the Statue of Liberty. We went on a tour of Liberty Island, and we quickly discovered from signs and announcements that the elevator to the pedestal wasn’t working. They were quite matter-of-fact about this, even though it meant we had to climb 158 steps if we wanted to get there. At least they had encouraging little signs along the way about how many stairs were left.

Climbing those stairs, I couldn’t help doing a compare and contrast. I was able to negotiate the stairs in the city reasonably well, even the ones in the Statue of Liberty. I got a bit winded, but I didn’t have to stop. But when I was in college in Boston, it was another story altogether. Weighing a little over 100 pounds more than I do now, I hated the stairs with a passion at times, especially when carrying groceries or luggage. Back then, I sometimes had to stop at each landing to catch my breath and muster the will to go on while the rest of the people were forced to split around me. It was humiliating, but I will say this – with all the walking and stair climbing, I managed not to gain weight in Boston, despite a very unhealthy diet. Whereas as soon as I moved back to Maine, within a year I gained twenty pounds, even though I ate a little better, simply because I lost that built-in exercise.

The other stair-related thought was at Belvedere Castle in Central Park. The day we went was gorgeous, and we were eager for the view from the top. The only way to get there, though, was via a tiny, one-way winding staircase. And I realized that, at my heaviest, I might have simply not fit, even if I could do the stairs. This goes back to my earlier entry about the amount of space heavier people take up. I’d experienced the thing in Blarney Castle in Ireland, but it’s still somewhat disconcerting.

So I can see how New Yorkers are thin, and how I managed to lose a pound during our stay despite eating more than I usually do. Now I’m back in Portland, which has its own distinction – being the foodiest city in the country (according to Bon Appetit Magazine). Without the subway, I have to invent my own exercise, such as walking to work, walking to Rosemont, or just going out for a walk without any particular destination. While I sometimes wish that exercising was more of a default here, instead of something I specifically have to do, it’s not enough to make me want to move to NY, thin or not.

Food and Sleep

I keep thinking that I should have learned this by now. Or rather, that I should remember to put what I’ve learned in practice, instead of managing to mess myself up time and again. The problem is with food and sleep. If I eat too much by a certain amount, I don’t sleep at all well. This then results in me feeling tired the next day, and in some cases eating more food to try to stay awake, which then means I don’t sleep well that night, either.

This is the case I ran into the past couple of days, and it’s a really vicious cycle. In addition to gaining three pounds in two days (which still doesn’t seem like it should be possible, and it’s not remotely fair that it IS possible), I feel tired and upset to my stomach and upset with myself for eating more than I know I should. I mean, I’ve been on this weight loss/maintenance gig for over nine years now. It seems like it shouldn’t still be a struggle, but sometimes, it is.

Then again, perhaps this is a good thing. It helps put things in perspective, reminding me that while I did lose over 100 pounds, this doesn’t mean that I’m perfect, or better than other people. Far from it. And these days when I don’t do what I should be doing, this is very apparent, because I tend to get rather surly and snappish with other people, mostly because I’m exhausted and upset with myself and sometimes take that out on others.

It reminds me, too, to be more considerate of others struggling with weight, and to remember how it felt when I was younger, when it seemed like any setback, no matter how small, was monumental and irreversible. It’s good to know that it’s not, and I wish I could tell my younger self that. Since I can’t, I remind my current self of that, try to reign in the surliness, and hope that I get back on track enough to finally sleep well and wake with renewed energy. Sweet dreams.

Space (but not the final frontier)

Last night I was talking to a friend who’s eight months pregnant. She told me about the fact that she’s so big now that she didn’t realize until it was too late that if she pushed her shopping cart in front of her to the checkout line, she wouldn’t be able to fit around it to actually unload the groceries. Instead, she had to pull it out, get in front of it, and then pull it behind her. As she said, “It was embarrassing.”

It made me think about size and weight, because I used to have to do the same thing. Most people think about size in relation to clothes size, and certainly finding clothes that fit is a problem. (Although it seems less so now, since more stores are carrying plus sizes – which may or may not be a good thing.) But I don’t think most people consider the sheer amount of space you take up when you’re overweight.

I noticed this first on school buses, when I took up a far greater percentage of the seat than most people. And I don’t just mean width-wise – there was very little space between me and seat in front of me as well. Bending down to get anything out of my bag at my feet was impossible, and putting it on my nearly non-existent lap was equally impossible because there simply wasn’t room. It also made maneuvering down the slender aisles challenging, particularly trying to turn around.

I ran into the same problem in Boston on the subway, where I was trying to cram into crowded cars on the red and green lines during rush hour. Between me and my backpack, I easily took up enough space for two people, perhaps more. I hated trying to fit into the little gaps, and I was embarrassed at how much room I actually needed.

Another problem was seatbelts, in airplanes and in cars. Being short, when I was driving I had to have my seat all the way forward to reach the pedals, but then the seatbelt barely fit, stretching tightly across me and cutting into my neck. Airplane seatbelts were no better. At my heaviest, they just fit, if I put the seatbelt under the overhang of my belly. I never wanted to ask for a seatbelt extension, but it was a close thing.

Also on airplanes, I was squished into the narrow seat, contained only by the armrests on either side, with very little room to maneuver to get at anything in my carry-on. The other problem was if for some reason I wasn’t able to get an aisle seat, it meant that I had to try to squeeze through to get to the bathroom, which in itself was extremely claustrophobic, with almost no space for me to turn around.

Even now, I get excited by the fact that when I fly, I actually have to tighten the seatbelt, and there’s breathing room on either side of me. I don’t have to worry about my belly or chest brushing up against the steering wheel in the car. I can navigate the space between a shopping cart and the cash register on the other side if I push my cart in. On the bus to work, I actually take up slightly less than half the seat, and I’m not in danger of pressing against the seat in front of me. After six years, these little daily things aren’t quite as momentous as they were when I first lost weight, but I still sometimes catch myself, realize what I’ve just done, and marvel at how little space I now fill.

Travel and Food

Travel is not designed for people who are trying to lose weight. At least, that’s been my experience from traveling over the past 10 years. Much of that has been for work, but some vacations as well, and for both, it’s a real effort to avoid gaining weight. (Unless, of course, you catch some unfamiliar virus that makes you so sick you can’t keep anything down, but that’s hardly something to hope for.)

The problems start with the actual travel, primarily if you’re flying. Airports are not known for their complement of healthy meal options, although they are improving. While they still don’t give you the full nutritional breakdown of their meals, some are starting to indicate overall calories, or if something is low fat, low cholesterol, etc., and to offer more in the way of salads and lighter fare. Still, it’s not something you can count on. My brother, my niece and I will never forget that when connecting at Dulles Airport, our only options for food were MacDonald’s and Ben&Jerry’s (we didn’t count the place selling alcohol).

Because of that, I’ve taken to traveling with a lot of my own food: nuts, hard-boiled eggs, salami (the kind

that’s cured so it doesn’t need refrigeration), PB&J sandwiches, carrot sticks, sugar snap peas, fruit (dried or fresh), trail and energy bars, chocolate, peanut butter crackers, and pretzels. It makes packing a carry-on more challenging, admittedly, and it might draw some odd looks. For instance, I once had my bag searched because apparently my flashlight looked armed and dangerous to the X-ray machine. It was early morning, and the man searching my bag said, “You’ve got a lot of food in here. You’re lucky I’ve already eaten breakfast.”

Despite all that, I think it’s worth the extra preparation and packing because then, at least, I know what I’m eating. I also don’t have to worry about flight delays or trying to get food in a tight connection. Similarly, I always bring at least one empty water bottle with me and fill it up at the water fountains once I’m past security.

Once I’m actually at my destination, my strategy varies depending on if I’m traveling for work or fun. In either case, one of the things I most enjoy is trying new restaurants and cuisines, but I need to try to balance that. When I’m on vacation, I don’t worry so much about it for a couple of reasons. Partly it’s because I can choose when I’m going to eat, and where, and also because most of my pleasure trips involve lots of walking. The record may be when my brother, my niece and I walked 14 miles in one day in D.C.

But when I’m traveling for work, as this past week, I don’t often have control over when I can eat, and often not where or what my options are. My exercise is also generally limited to going to and from the elevators, or getting in a walk or swim as I’m able. Mostly I’m sitting, and that fails to burn the calories from any big meals. The challenges are two-fold. One is that if it’s a conference that my company sponsors, food is over-abundant and highly caloric. Three times a day are all-you-can-eat buffets, with rich, luxurious foods. And in case that’s not enough, we have afternoon snacks, things like ice cream, giant cookies, pastries, etc. It’s a severe test of will power for anyone who loves food. Or, if it’s not one of our conferences, I can buy my own meals at restaurants of my choice, within a certain budget – but it’s not my budget. The temptation here is to eat more than I should, simply because I’m not paying for it and can get whatever I might like. The lure of free food is hard to resist.

So, I bring my own breakfast, to at least have that much known and accounted for. It used to be dry Cheerios, juice boxes, and fruit. Once I discovered the joy of mini fridges in the hotel room, I started bringing things like hard-boiled eggs, cheese, more salami, and fruit. (Quick note of caution – always check the setting of your fridge as soon as you get it; otherwise, you may end up with frozen and then soggy fruit as I did.) I also bring some vegetables for snacking, typically carrots, broccoli, peppers, tomatoes, and/or cucumbers. Having those to fill me up helps me eat less at the buffet or restaurants, and the portion control is a big factor. I enjoy trying tastes of all the things at the buffets, but if I’m already partly full, it’s only a taste instead of a full helping.

Even knowing all this, I can still go overboard, as I did last week. But it’s not as bad as it could be, and I also know that once I’m back to my regular eating habits, I’ll quickly lose whatever weight gained. It’s still a challenge, but at least now I’ve discovered what works for me.

Swimming

I know it’s a little strange to be talking about swimming in November, but I just got back from a conference in New Orleans, where my hotel had an outside pool. I didn’t see anyone else out there, and I wonder if it was too cool for the locals. But it was quite balmy for me (outside temp was in the low 70’s), so I decided to take advantage of it Wednesday afternoon. My added incentive was knowing that I ate too much at lunch at the Palace Café (seafood gumbo, crusty bread and pecan-crusted with Creole meunière sauce, spiced pecans, popcorn rice, and a medley of broccoli, carrots, and red onions); I plan to address the topic of food and travel in a couple of days.

At any rate, it was the first time I’d gone swimming where I was surrounded by skyscrapers, but what actually made it memorable was realizing how much I enjoyed it. Such enjoyment doesn’t feel like it should be surprising, since I practically lived in the water some summers when I was growing up. Between swimming lessons, combining swimming with canoe trips, and going to swim at the nearby Thomas Pond, it was something I loved and took for granted.

Which is why it was one of the greatest casualties of my weight gain. As I wrote in the first part of my book:
"But perhaps my biggest loss was swimming. I still enjoyed being in the water, possibly even more than when I was younger. In that pleasant, almost weightless space, I could more easily ignore my mass, and I was still capable of handstands and somersaults and other acrobatics. Everything else about the experience, though, was not fun in and some ways torturous.

"Take bathing suits, for instance. They're meant to reveal the wonders of the female form, curvy and sleek and taut - which is fine if you're in a beauty pageant but a bit disheartening for us mere mortals. And for those overweight, it's frankly humiliating. I hated displaying my body, knowing that it was stretched out and bulged in unattractive places. This meant that I didn't want to go to public beaches anymore, and that I was hesitant of going to Thomas Pond. If I went, I walked fully clothed, bathing suit discretely hidden, only the towel over my shoulder giving away the fact that I was even contemplating going in the water. Once there, I checked carefully for my brother’s friend or anyone in his family, making sure I could slip into the pond unobserved.

"Getting out was another difficulty. I not only had to be certain I was alone, I had to deal with gravity. For someone who's never been heavy, this may seem like an odd statement. But the reality is that after floating peacefully in the water, letting that wonderful liquid buoy my weight, it was horrible to face taking up the burden again for myself. It was as if I had set down a heavy pack for a brief wondrous time of freedom, only to have to take it up again, with no choice in the matter. At my heaviest, I sometimes literally staggered coming out before I could readjust to the pull of my body.

"I didn’t feel able to wear a bathing suit in public again until six or seven years ago. Even now, I’m not completely comfortable in one because my body will never be picture-perfect. But that discomfort no longer keeps me out of the water. The irony is that I don’t have many opportunities to swim anymore, since I no longer live next door to ponds or lakes. This past summer was a particular disappointment, what with all the rain and cold; I only got in the water once."

That’s why I was so excited to have access to the pool at the hotel, swimming for half an hour in solitary delight, able to appreciate it without worrying about what other people thought when they saw me. It was a reminder that I should try to get out whenever possible in the summers, because it is something I enjoy. I’m just glad I can remember that now.

Commercials, Part 1 – the Quick Fix

It seems like you can’t go online these days, or watch any sort of television, without seeing commercials or advertisements about a quick-fix way to lose weight. So many companies promise these “silver bullets”, as if there’s some magic way to lose weight, and their one product will make all the difference.

The ones that I’m particularly thinking of are the internet ads about acai berries, and a TV commercial I recently saw about smoothies (from RightSize, I think). Both of these ads proclaim to be able to work miracles of weight loss if you just buy their product. What disturbs me about them is that so many people are so eager for a quick fix that they don’t even stop to investigate, to see if this is true, or if there are side effects that might be even worse. They probably just jump at the chance to have some easy way to lose weight.

The thing is, I can’t blame them. When I was younger, we tried to pin my weight problems on various things, thinking that if we addressed just that one item, I’d be able to lose weight without a problem. The pounds would just melt off. For instance, we thought I had a thyroid problem, so I took iodine supplements – with no luck. Then we thought that I was allergic to all sorts of things (sugar, wheat, citrus fruits, etc.) and that if I avoided those, I’d lose weight. Then it was that I had too much of the bad type of yeast in my body, so I took acidophilus and joined my mom in a yeast-free diet for a while. Then the gym teacher at my mom’s school suggested some supplements (quite pricey, I might add) that were designed to help boost slow metabolisms.

None of these things worked, and it’s why I’m leery of anything that offers a quick fix. No one who’s heavy wants to hear that it could take a long time to lose weight, that it’s a lifestyle change, not a diet, that it will always be a balancing act. But at least for me, and the few other people I’ve met who’ve been able to lose weight and keep it off, that’s the case. For me, what did it was diet and exercise, with a lot of discipline and work and continual adjustments and refinements and change in attitude. The overall goal was to burn more calories than I took in, and when I did, I lost weight. It's not a a quick fix, but for me, it's the only thing that worked.

So I’d like to caution anyone who’s tempted to try these to really find out what’s involved. These products may help with weight loss, but I have a hard time believing just a single change is all that it takes.