My body's nobody's body but mine

Yesterday, I attended a bridal shower for my cousin's lovely bride-to-be and while chatting with my aunts the conversation naturally turned to my upcoming nuptials. One aunt commented on how my mom had said she had lost 17 pounds and then asked how Mom had done it. I said Mom was just being more aware of what she was eating and then cracked a joke about how Mom was more concerned with losing weight before my wedding than I was.

But the thing is, it's not really a joke. I'm not stressed or panicked about losing weight for the wedding.

I had a dress fitting a few weeks ago and that was a little stressing but I wasn't wearing the proper undergarments and the bridal shop didn't have bras that went beyond a D-cup (and I'm beyond a D-cup...sigh), so while the dress fit it didn't look perfect, you know? But I'm going back on Wednesday, armed with all my undergarments, and I'm convinced it will look perfect. And I haven't lost any weight since buying the dress.

I don't even know when I stopped worrying about that. It might have been when more important things - seating charts and making favours and meeting with our officiant and planning the ceremony and finalizing the reception set-up - came up. It might have been when the Beau had chest pains and was later diagnosed with periocarditis and body image was the last thing on my mind. It might have been when I started spending more time on xoJane, an any-body-positive (among other things) website. It may have even been when I did some shopping and found a bunch of things that fit at a size I could handle.

Or it may have just been that I'm really getting tired of hating on myself. Like, just fed up and done with it. Because, honestly, it takes a hell of a lot of energy to be constantly down and degrading towards myself and there are so many more things in life that are much more deserving of that energy.

Also, acceptance, which is hella major too. Being on Weight Watchers let me prove to myself that I can lose weight, but I have to track everything I eat, measure all my portions, plan ahead as necessary and get on a scale each week to make sure I'm doing it all properly. This did help make me more aware of what I put in my body, which is a good awareness to have, but the little things started to weigh on me and really sucked the fun out of living (at least for me; I don't want to take away from the success that others have had with the program).

So I know I can lose weight and I know I can gain it all back and now I know that this body, the one I'm currently in, the one I'll be getting married in, that the way this body is now could be the way my body just is. This me is the me, where I'm happiest, at least physically. And by accepting this physical happiness maybe I can move to mental and emotional happiness with myself.

Of course, I'm not about to eat pizza and chocolate cake for every meal. I'm still going to run (currently nursing a sore calf - boo!) and do strength training (three sets of 10 FULL push-ups are now a regular thing for me - hurrah!) and be aware of what I'm eating. It's not dieting or trying to lose weight; rather, it's doing the things for my body that will help my body do things for me. Eating well and being active will give me the energy I need to run 5K and plan a wedding and help keep the house tidy and go out for friends' birthdays and dance at my wedding and chase after my nephews and all the other things that make life good. And my good life will include wine and too many fun-sized chocolate bars and pizza and chocolate cake because these things make me happy.

Now this isn't just some epiphany that will last forever. Body acceptance and body love will still take work, every single day. But it's about starting with good thoughts ("I look good in this dress") rather than bad ("This dress makes me look fat. I can't ever wear it again.") and embodying those good thoughts, acting like I look good (but not being arrogant because that sucks) and believing that I deserve to feel good about myself. And that leads to happiness and, really, isn't being happy what it's all about?

My body battle

Whoa, it's been awhile since I've been on here. Oops. No reason, really, except things have been pretty busy but also pretty much the same, so nothing really new to write about.

I'm still running and that's still going well; I should have no problem with my 5K run in September. And I think I'm starting to see the changes - however small - that regular running can make on a body. I've actually started looking at my body and thinking, "I look okay." rather than thinking, "Ugh."

But I'm also going through a body battle between what I see in the mirror and how my clothes fit (and what the scale is saying to me, the odd time I jump on it).

I was sorting through my clothes the other day, making a pile for donation, when I came across a pair of knee-length shorts that I hadn't pulled out yet this summer. I've had them for a few years but they're still holding up so I thought that I'd get one more season out of them - except they don't fit. Realizing this caused me to cry for about half an hour. (Seriously.) I got over it but I still feel bad about myself because of this. The other weird thing, though, is that other things that fit me at the beginning of the summer are now too big for me; one pair of shorts I bought two months ago are so baggy that you could pull them off me while they're still buttoned up.

And it's all very annoying and discouraging because I don't know what will fit me from day to day nor do I know if I should feel good about myself and how my body is changing because of my running or if I should feel bad about myself because I'm clearly gaining too much weight and need to stop.

I know that most people would just go with the "feel good about myself" plan, but I'm not most people and my brain just can't seem to work that way. And, of course, the wedding countdown is on (just over three months to go!) so I feel extra terrible for not being thinner than I am. But I also feel strong and proud for regularly running 5 kilometres at a time.

Really, I just don't know what cues I should be looking for in my battle with my body. Or maybe I'm just not fully accepting that I'm bigger than I ever should be and need to start some hardcore dieting STAT.

I honestly just don't know.

Miscellany

A few random thoughts, late on a Tuesday night...

...I know I have to be patient in the house hunt, but I want one NOW dammit! Everyday we have new listings emailed to us and everyday we obsessively check MLS ourselves, just in case. So far, our dream home has not materialized. Apparently this kind of thing really does take time.

...I've been reading more about this study that showed women who cut carbs twice a week lose more weight than women who stick to a low-calorie diet. Of course, you have to eat reasonably the rest of the week, but I'm so tempted to try. Despite my whole "fad diets are for suckers" stance. I mean, what will happen when I stop cutting carbs two days a week? I don't want to end up as the Pillsbury Dough Boy. But it's so tempting!

...the Canadian Book Challenge wraps up at the end of June and I'm still seven books away. I was so gung-ho when it started. It makes me sad that I'm not more into Canadian writers. What can I say - I love my Brits. But I'll still get a few more reviews in before it's over (I hope).

...I really want a cheeseburger.

...for some bizarre reason, I have Gwen Stefani stuck in my head. And I'm not a Gwen Stefani fan. At all. I liked No Doubt back in the day, but not Gwen's solo stuff. I don't even know what inspired this song that I don't know the name of to get stuck in my head. Sigh.

...I need a new knitting project.

...I really want a pair of red pants, which makes me laugh, because when I was in second-year university, I really wanted a pair of red pants. I found some then and I'll find some again - 11 years later.

...I should find a blog template I like and stick with it. I change it because I get bored but I feel like it should be consistent. Alas, I have yet to find anything I like. If only I had the skills to make my own. It's a tough life.

...did I mention I want a house?!

Not so fast

I have a big problem with fasts.  I know there are many people who swear by them and if they feel comfortable fasting, I'm not going to stop them.  But I really think they're more harmful than helpful.

To be honest, in the past I've thought about doing a fast or a cleanse and been all starry-eyed at the promise of fast and safe weight loss and all the other wonderful things that apparently happen to your body when you fast or cleanse.  But there are a few things that have always stopped me:

- if a cleanse promises to get rid of all the toxins in my body, how does it know what's good and bad?  I mean, lemon water with cayenne pepper coursing through my body isn't going to stop to check if bacteria is good or bad; it's just going to flush it all out. 

- my body already does a good job of getting rid of the things I don't need.  After all, that's why I poop.

- any weight lost will be put right back on as soon as I start eating normal amounts of calories so why put myself through the weight yo-yo-ing?

- by only consuming certain foods or liquids, what am I depriving my body of?  What nutrients am I not getting? 

I've been reading some blog posts by someone doing a juice fast and she's writing about her entire body hurting for the past two days.  How is this a good thing?  Why would you want to continue on something that makes your body hurt?  Is losing 5 pounds really worth it? 

Again, this is just my opinion and if you feel differently, I respect that.  Personally, I don't think they're worth it.

"Normal"

It's a stupid word, normal.

What is normal?  Well, my blood sugar levels, for one.  And my hormones, for another.  And my thyroid and all the other things the vampiric medical establishment checked me for during my last round of blood work.

What's not normal?  Me. 

I had a follow-up appointment with yet another specialist today and he says I'm normal.  Thing is, I'm not.  My ovaries don't work and I have an endocrine condition, which is not normal.  But the endocrine specialist doctor can't do anything for me because all the scientific, medical stuff says I'm normal.

Now, not only am I still not normal, I'm incredibly frustrated.

Why is it that we can diagnose me but not treat the condition?  I'm fed up with only treating the symptoms.  It's like having a car with an engine that isn't working properly and deciding that putting more air in the tires will help. 

I was really counting on this appointment, too, to maybe finally shed some light on how I can start fixing myself.  Maybe my expectations were too high; needless to say, I've been despondent and bummed out since finishing up.  I couldn't come straight home after the appointment so I ended up going for an ambling walk and buying some yarn (Christmas is less than six months away, don'tcha know) and that helped for a bit - but then I had to walk home and walking always allows me time to think.  And I started thinking about how disappointing my appointment was...and I was back to my good ol' despondent self.

I was referred to this specialist to see if there was something that could be done at the hormonal/endocrine level to help me with my weight issues.  All the doctor said was to eat well and exercise.  Okay, fine, I'll keep doing that but it's not helping.  I last saw him in April and, since then, as per the scales at his office, I've lost about 2 lb in two months.  I told him that was awful.  He said it was good.  All I can say is that losing 1 lb a month will not keep me motivated.

Which, of course, is making me wonder if I should even try at all.  What good is it doing me, eating well and working out?  If it's not going to help, then why bother?  Apparently I'm normal, so I shouldn't have to change anything, right? 

I know I'm feeling sorry for myself right now and I'll snap out of it (I hope) but all I feel like doing is throwing a pity party, so I'm going to wallow in it for a little while longer.  It would just be so nice if some doctor - any doctor - could give me some kind of positive answer about my condition, instead of just saying I'm normal and to go on a diet. 

I'm afraid it's just not that simple with me, as diagnosed by medical science.  It's so nice of them to give me a problem with absolutely no solution.

On food and food relationships

I've been thoroughly enjoying my super salad lunches and I'm contributing some of my scale success with my healthier lunch habits.  But I also know that, sometimes, I need something other than a salad.  Case in point: last Friday, I decided to celebrate it being Friday with chicken wraps from Tim Horton's.  They're still good for me and have lots of protein and they're a lovely change from salad.

It's okay to indulge every so often (if chicken wraps can be considered an indulgence) and I'm reminded of this because of a conversation I overhead at the salad bar:

Woman #1: Look at you, salad bar queen!  You're here every day.  You must be sick of salad!  (laugh)
Woman #2: (serious) Yes, I'm getting pretty sick of it.
Woman #1: I was wondering.  I'm on my third day of spinach and strawberries and I'm already sick of them!

What a depressing relationship these women must have with food.  Yes, I know that's a broad assumption to make based on the snippet of (paraphrased) conversation listed above, but I don't think it's too far off.  If you're eating at the salad bar everyday because you want to, good on you.  If you're doing it because you feel you have to but you're hating it, then eat something else. 

Sure, the cafeteria at work doesn't exactly produce Wolfgang Puck-Oscar food, but there are enough options to make it work.  But the bigger point is that eating should be about enjoying food as much as about being healthy and giving your body what it needs. 

I know tomatoes are good for me, but man, I hate those damn things!  So I don't eat tomatoes.  I also don't like a lot of fruit and I'm hit and miss when it comes to yogurt (mostly miss).  Salmon is good, but only on occasion.  But I love me some vegetables and I'm happy to load up on them; lately I've been loving cauliflower.  (Later, I'll share with you a way to eat an entire head of cauliflower by yourself!)

I think this bad relationship with food is why so many diets fail and why programs like Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig tend to be more successful.  Diets restrict food, force you to eat the same things over and over, make you feel guilty about having a Timbit; on the flip side, weight loss programs let you have a little bit of everything while teaching you how much to eat and how it will impact your body (at least this is the impression I get of them; I've never actually done one).  While I'm not participating in any weight loss program now, I am working on finding foods I like that are good for me and filling my meals with them. 

Eating should never make you miserable, whether it's eating salad every day and hating it or eating poutine every day and feeling guilty about it.  As goes the old adage, "Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow you may die!"  Even with leaving off the dying part, it's still pretty good advice.