Taking the Stairs

One common suggestion for getting in shape is to take the stairs. Here in Maine, we don’t have many tall buildings, so that seems pretty reasonable and simple. Yet even someone who tries to be active may find themselves using the elevator instead, for a number of reasons.

Take my office, for instance. We’re up on the 6^th floor, so taking the stairs does get my heart going. The only problem is that before 7:30 a.m., the door to exit the stairway is always locked, and far too often it remains locked well after that – past 8, even. To make matters worse, floors 4 and 5 require key card access to exit, which means that if I go up and find my door locked, I have to go back down to at least the 3^rd floor and still take the elevator. It’s happened often enough that I gave up on the stairs, and I’ve heard a couple of my co-workers say the same.

It also doesn’t help that a lot of times, stairwells are not clearly marked. When I recently visited a friend in a 5^th floor condo, I saw no stair access, only the elevator. Of course it must have had stairs, but I don’t know where they were, leaving me no choice in the matter.

Even if you can find them, and get out at the right floor, going up the stairs is not always a pleasant experience. The other day I walked up to a 3^rd floor apartment, and the first thing I noticed was the scent of cigarette smoke. The stairs were also lit with harsh fluorescent bulbs, and just somewhat dingy and grimy.

It probably doesn’t help that in movies and TV shows, taking the stairs is usually related to something negative. You see people running down them or hiding in them to escape someone, or, in the case of Ghostbusters, going up to fight an ancient Sumerian god. These are not helpful to making positive associations.

Admittedly some stairs are well lit, clean, pleasant, and easily found, making them much more enjoyable. I still have fond memories of my old office space, where we had spiral wooden staircases, with skylights above, connecting the 5^th and 6^th floors. It was simply fun to go on those.

That makes me wonder – if taking the stairs was more enjoyable, accessible, and we could think about it more positively, would people be more inclined to use them? I don’t know, and I’m sure that it would depend on the number of levels, the individual person, if they were carrying groceries, etc. But it seems worth considering, and also worth remembering that if someone chooses not to take the stairs, they might have a very good reason that has nothing to do with lack of interest in health or fitness. 

Before and After Photos

Some of my newsfeeds on Facebook include before and after pictures from weight loss, which isn’t a surprise considering that I’ve Liked many health-related pages. Even so, some those photos make me rather uneasy, but it wasn’t until recently that I realized why.

So many of them are focused on bodies.

I realize that may sound like an incredibly obvious statement, but bear with me. Yes, I can understand that someone who was formerly paunchy and pasty, flabby and saggy, would be excited to show off their newly-slim abs and noticeable arm muscles, as well as how much better they look in a bathing suit now than before.

Except – might that not still emphasize that only their appearance matters? To me, at least, that’s what all these pictures are saying: “Look how pretty and/or ripped I am now!”

But for me, I want people to feel comfortable in their own skin, even if after losing weight they’re still a bit saggy (in some cases this may be more likely after weight loss), or if they don’t have noticeable muscles when they flex their arms. I want them to feel they can be healthy without the pressure of parading around in a skimpy outfit and posting it on social media. But mostly I want them to be able to do the things they enjoy and love – which may not even require losing that much weight.

What if before and after pictures showed people doing what they enjoyed, or differences in how well they could do it, perhaps with a brief story behind it? Something so I can see what positive changes have results from the weight loss, not just the loss itself, something that matters to that person.

Here’s my example. Both of my photos were taken at Chimney Pond, which I still think is one of the most stunning places on Mt. Katahdin in Baxter State Park.

When I was heavy, I saw some photos of it and decided that I had to get there, somehow. So in 2003, I made myself climb the 3.3 miles, even though it took 4 hours, even though I was completely miserable for much of it, battling tears and negative self-talk and despair, which meant that after arriving, I could barely appreciate that I had achieved the goal. And although I’m smiling in the picture, any joy was fleeting, especially since I couldn’t climb stairs for two weeks afterward.

In the second picture, from 2011, I arrived at the pond just a little over 2 hours after starting out, and I felt great. I didn’t have to stop once on the way up, apart from occasional sips of water and nature breaks, and I had plenty of energy to continue as well as to enjoy the experience. I was so happy to be able to take in the beauty of the place without feeling like I was going to collapse, and the next day I wasn’t even stiff.

This, for me, is a much clearer impression of the before and after of weight loss. Not just what I look like, but what I can do, and how I feel while doing it. And I’d love to see pictures and hear stories from others, not even necessarily about weight loss but just about how changing your relationship to food and yourself has opened doors for you, allowed you to do what you love, and enjoy your daily living. Isn’t that, after all, what it’s really about?

What I Learned From Dad About Food

Note: Dr. Michelle May wrote a book called Eat What You Love, Love What You Eat, which is the basis of the Am I Hungry? program. For more information, visit www.amihungry.com or mywebsite.

Last year on Mother’s Day I wrote about Momand food and weight, so I figured this year it was only fair to write some about my dad on Father’s Day, particularly what I’ve learned from him about food.

The home kitchen is not just for women.

I didn’t realize growing up how unusual it was that Dad cooked. It just seemed logical that he would have supper ready for Mom when she got out of work, since he was always home earlier. And given that he had been a professional baker, it equally made sense that he did the majority of the baking. Perhaps that’s why both my brother and I enjoy cooking; we realized it was equal opportunity.

Food made at home and from scratch is preferable to store-bought.

I truly don’t remember Dad using any mixes when I was growing up. If he decided he wanted something (usually a baked good but sometimes a main dish), he didn’t go buy it. At most, he would buy an ingredient he needed and then make it, even if it meant a bit of delay – but the gratification, when it came, was all the sweeter.

When preparing food, clean as you go.

Dad’s a stickler for keeping his kitchen neat and clean. Once he’s finished with an ingredient, he puts it away, and if he’s done with a utensil or dish, he washes it right away. I used to think this was excessive, until I lived with college roommates who were the opposite, sometimes leaving dirty dishes out for days. I prefer Dad’s way (although I wait to wash everything until what I’m making is finished).

Use common sense, attention, and experience.

My question: “Dad, how long should this be in the oven/on the stove?” Dad’s response: “Until it’s done.”

This drove me nuts when I was younger, and I do think some general timeframe is helpful (10 minutes, an hour, 2 hours). But I realize now how much truth his answer has. Stoves aren’t all the same, and it’s much better to use your judgment about when something is done based on other things (internal temperature, color, etc.).

Plus, he would sometimes tinker with ingredients, mixing them in different orders, substituting, adding something different, or trying a different cooking method if he thought it would taste better. It didn’t always (I remember an attempt to grill bacon that backfired horribly), but more often than not they did. It’s helped me remember that recipes are not ultimate truth, only suggestions and guides that you can play with.

Eat what you love.

Dad has never been shy about going for the foods that he truly wants (within his budget, of course), be it something with cheese, homemade baked beans, stews, sweets, etc. At the same time, he’s willing to try different things and discover new favorites, particularly if it involves me taking him out to a nice restaurant.

Love what you eat.

I would be hard-pressed to name someone who enjoys food more than Dad. He eats slowly, making the food last and savoring each bite. Even though I try to be mindful about eating, when I eat with him I realize that I still haven’t got the eating slowly part down quite as well as I should. But it also makes it fun to go out to dinner with him because he’s very enthusiastic and appreciative of the food, which heightens my own appreciation and enjoyment.

So, Dad, thank you for the food lessons, and to you and all the other dads out there, Happy Father’s Day!

Those Darn Little Voices

Note: Am I Hungry? is a mindful eating program – to learn more, visit www.AmIHungry.com or my website.

In the Am I Hungry? program, we talk about the “little voices” that might try to convince us to eat even when we’re not hungry. I’ve been able to silence most of mine, but one challenging time is the evenings. Not every evening, but enough that I recently started paying more attention to see what was going on and give myself enough of a pause to respond in a way other than eating.

Little voice: You haven’t had much to eat during the day, so it’s okay for you to eat more tonight.

Response: I didn’t eat much because I wasn’t hungry, and if I’m still not hungry, how much or little I had earlier today isn’t a reason to eat.

Little voice: You’re have an activity in the evening and you don’t want to get hungry while you’re out.

Response: Being a little hungry won’t kill me, or if I’m worried about it, I can bring a snack.

Little voice: You ate this much last night and it was fine, so why not do it again?

Response: I was hungry last night, but I’m not tonight.

Little voice: You won’t be having dinner until later, and you don’t want to be ravenous when you start.

Response: If I’m not hungry now, and I eat, I won’t want anything at dinner. If I get hungry before then I’ll have a snack, but right now I don’t need it.

Little voice: You already had this meal prepared and planned; you don’t want it going to waste.

Response: It will be going to waste anyway if I eat it and I’m not hungry – wasted time eating what I don’t need, wasted energy feeling sluggish and/or not sleeping well, and calories going to my waist. It’s not worth it.

If I think about it this, it helps me put aside the desire to eat, saving that for when I’m truly hungry and will appreciate the food the most. Which doesn’t mean I’m not still tempted sometimes, but at least I can deal with it better. 

Knowing You're Not Alone

One of the food shows I enjoy is Chopped, where the contestants have to prepare meals with ingredients in a mystery basket. Mostly the chefs are a random assortment, but sometimes episodes have a specific focus. This past week, for instance, featured chefs who had lost a lot of weight (90+ pounds). It was fun watching them cook and hearing their stories, but what most struck me was a comment one of them made during a break.

He said he’d never been around so many FFK’s (former fat kids) before, and that it was a good support group.

Bear in mind that the show only has four competitors, so it’s not as if the studio was swarming with FFK’s. But I realized I couldn’t think of an occasion when I’ve been around more than one or two other people at a time who have successfully overcome their weight problems, especially without surgery.

This isn’t truly a surprise. After all, most statistics say that only 5% of those who lose significant weight are able to keep it off; it’s not a large population base. Even more than that, it’s not something that comes up in everyday conversation – maybe I know more people than I think who fall into that category. And finally, the people I do know are from different areas of my life (church, work, Am I Hungry?, health coaching) with no reason to be in the same place.

That made me think about the fact that even though I never felt the need for a group when I was losing weight, or really even in the years of maintaining, in some ways my experience is isolating.

After all, even those who know what I’ve done but haven’t been through it can’t really appreciate certain things. The continual joy of being able to fit through smaller spaces, or not worrying about crowding someone on the bus seat. How long it takes to recognize your new self in the mirror (if you ever do). How to handle compliments instead of insults, and to accept that the compliments are sincere. The mental shift it takes to wear clothes that show more skin. Worry that others will resent or envy your accomplishment. Uncertainty about how this will affect your relationships. Wondering what you would do if you ever started gaining again.

I realized that even if I don’t need a support group, per se, it’s always nice to know that I’m not alone, that others have this as a shared experience. So I am grateful to have a few people in my life who fall into this category, and for various forms of media that help me learn about others. And to anyone else out there in this demographic, if you ever wonder and in case it helps, know that you are not alone.