Category — Motivational Musings

FROM THE BARBIE ARCHIVES…Originally published August 17, 2009 on Gastric Bypass Barbie. 

Maybe There’s a Reason I Stopped at “Brownie”?

©Smithsonian Institution Press

I was a Brownie, but quit before I became a Girl Scout (always a bridesmaid, never a bride?). At the time, I said it was because I was too shy to participate, but I remember that I was always confused by all of the rules and regulations for “earning badges.” Okay, in my defense, I was only about 6, but even then, I struggled to be prepared — and find knee socks that actually fit all the way to my knees! (Yes, even THEN I was cursed with Kankles.)

In retrospect, I can see the beginnings of a bunch of really bad habits:

1. Feeling inadequate in the face of new ideas and tasks
2. Disliking the need for preparedness
3. Being worried about the future, and whether or not I would succeed.
4. Hating the idea of merit badges. (Okay, I’m not sure how bad that one turned out to be in my real life, but seriously, that one always bugged me. Especially when my MOM had to stitch them to my sash. C’mon! Wasn’t there a “sewing” badge???)

The reason I bring this up is, I got to thinking (worrying?) about the future, and I realized that there are lots of different ways to entertain these thoughts. There are healthy ways (preparation, anticipation) and unhealthy ways (vexation, hesitation), and which ways I choose will determine my success in the gastric bypass after life.

Here are some phrases that came to mind when I started thinking about the future:

• Anticipation
• Hesitation
• Preparation
• Trepidation
• Vexation
• Exhilaration
• Procrastination
• Celebration

Interesting mix of ideas, don’t you agree? Not surprisingly, many post-ops (myself included) worry that we will “regain all of our weight” and that somehow we will “fail” after bariatric surgery. How is it that *some* people DO regain their weight, and *some* do NOT? I’m thinking that it has to do with the way in which we view the future. Do we view it with trepidation (fear, anxiety, worry), or with preparation (planned success)? It’s kind of weird, when you think about it. I mean, surgery gave us a second chance at life. In many cases, it eliminated serious, debilitating, even life-threatening conditions. So, why should our vision of the future be one of angst, turmoil and unhappiness? Shouldn’t we embrace the future with dreams, goals, and visions of sweet success?

Ahh, if only it were that easy.

So, how do we go from FEAR to ANTICIPATION? Here is my thinking on the matter:

I say the first step is PLANNING: If we PLAN to succeed, then we will do what it takes to make it happen. We have to visualize ourselves living a successful and healthy After Life before we can achieve it.

Next is PREPARATION: Once we’ve PLANNED to succeed, it’s time to lay the groundwork, build the foundation for success through careful PREPARATION. This takes the form of pre-measuring our foods, creating menus, bringing protein and fluid with us when we run errands, and even scheduling exercise.

Next is ANTICIPATION: Shouldn’t we be excited about our plans and preparation? We should awaken each day with verve, vigor and enthusiasm for the coming day. We should know that we are READY for whatever the day will bring, and will succeed because we have PLANNED and PREPARED — even for the unexpected!

Finally, is CELEBRATION: We have to ACKNOWLEDGE our successes and celebrate the victories (small, big, scale and non-scale). Life is about living. It’s about experiencing joy (along with suffering). I think a big part of success in the After lIfe is being aware enough to notice when great things are happening in our lives.

Unfortunately, being the flawed humans that we are, life is not all happiness and joy; it throws us curve balls and unexpected drama. Anyone can succeed in calm seas; it’s what happens when the tide is high, winds are strong, and waves are crashing all around us that determines our grit. How do we deal with the inevitable vexation, trepidation, hesitation and procrastination? I guess if I had the answer to that, I’d be a millionaire, but I do have a few thoughts:

1) Marinating in my woes only serves to make them stronger (just like it does when we marinate a steak!) So, like I learned when my Dad passed away, it’s okay to be sad for a time, but when one sad thought begets another…and another, it’s time to stop being sad. In other words, it’s time to stop marinating in worry, and move on to more productive things (like remembering successes — or good times, as in the case of my pop.)

2) Worry doesn’t solve anything (and makes your face wrinkly!) I’m working on “letting stuff go” rather than laying awake at night worrying about what “could” or “might” happen. When the worry sets in, I try to focus on things that give me joy — like hiking with my hubby, wearing really cute (tiny) clothing, feeling healthy, and being able to get up EARLY!

3) Put more energy into planning and less into procrastinating. Now, I’ll admit, being a world-class procrastinator is NOT an easy thing to overcome, so it’s something I struggle with just about every day. But, Rome wasn’t built in a day, so I just keep plugging along, hoping for the best (but bracing for the worst!)

4) Living in the moment (the here and now) is way more fun than the uncertainty of what was or might be. I must remember to taste each bite, breathe through each high kick in aerobics, feel the breeze in my face while I’m strolling with Juan, and soak up the sun when I’m out on my bike. That is exhilaration. That is the goal of an Gastric Bypass After Life worth living.

So, where does that leave me now — today? I guess you could say I’m: Planning, Preparing, and Anticipating Happiness, while Exhilarating and Celebrating Every Day Life and banishing any hint of Vexing, Hesitation, Trepidation, or desire for Procrastination.

That’s a tall order, and sadly, there’s no such thing as a “Bariatric Badge” — but maybe there should be!

How about these?

• Protein Patch (for meeting daily protein intake goals)
• Salad Badge (for making amazing salads — why not?)
• Carb Badge (for recognizing good carbs from bad carbs)
• Timed Bites Patch (for waiting 5-10 minutes between bites — can you lose this badge or earn demerits???)
• Hydration Patch (for getting your fluids in — but not at the same time as you eat!)
• Vitamin Patch (for taking supplements every day, even when the chewable vitamins taste yucky and the iron stops you up!)
• Exercise Badge (for living an active lifestyle — every day!)

Can you think of anymore Bariatric Badges for my sash? Let me know; I’d love to hear!

Another one from the archives. I always liked this one because it made me look at myself, my life and my world from a positive perspective. It truly changed my attitude and helped get me through some rough times…Enjoy the repost. – Cari

A New Perspective: What I Learned From
A Guy Named Chet and a ’71 Ford Truck

A funny thing happened at the plastic surgeon’s office a few days ago; I got handed a fistful of “before” surgery pictures and wanted to cry. Not tears of happiness. No, I was genuinely mortified by the images staring back at me.

• Why wasn’t I happy to see my amazing transformation?
• Why couldn’t I see how far I’ve come?
• Why didn’t I understand that I don’t even remember those arms or those breasts?

Well, for starters, I look old and haggard (because I didn’t realize my face would be included in the shots, so I wasn’t smiling), I have a turkey waddle under my chin, and worse – my body is skinny, bony and downright ugly. I realize these are harsh words, (especially coming from someone who supposedly has a good self-image of her new body), but those are the words that came to mind.

On the one hand, I was thankful that the droopy, deflated breasts are no longer hanging around, and my wingspan has been replaced with lovely, toned arms – but I just couldn’t erase the picture of the person with the non-existent hips, bony shoulders and boyish frame.

That is, until an enlightening little conversation with a “wise guy” from my Thursday night support group. We couples (he and his wife, and my hubby and I) were taking in a show at the theater downtown. While waiting to take our seats, I happened to mention my eye-opening experience.

Well, Dave (that’s the wise-guy’s name) thought about what I’d said, and offered this sage tale (to see if it might strike a chord):

Way back when Dave was a skinny young kid, he had a neighbor named Chet. Now, Chet was a funny guy who loved drinking beer and washing and waxing his beloved 1971 Ford F-150 truck with camper shell every single Saturday. The odd thing is, Chet only ever waxed the hood. (Contrary to what you might have guessed, the beer had nothing to do with this seeming lack of attention to detail.)

According to Chet he just waxed the hood because that was the only part of the truck he ever saw when he was driving it.

It didn’t make sense to him to waste time, effort (and beer) waxing something he couldn’t even see.

Which brings me to my little epiphany: I have been worrying about stuff that I can’t even see – not when I’m walking, not when I’m bathing, not when I’m sitting, not when I’m driving – as a matter of fact, it’s pretty hard to see that stuff at all.

Ironically, the only way I can see it is if I’m in a try-on room with a 360º mirror, or if someone is pointing a camera at my naked self! Trust me, when I’m in the try-on room, I am not looking at my bony back – I’m looking at how fabulous my clothes look on me – and I don’t tend to indiscriminately disrobe in front of random photographers.

Which brings me to part two of my little epiphany: Would I rather look good naked or clothed? Well, since my hubby says he loves me no matter what, and my plastic surgeon doesn’t get a vote, I’m going to say that it’s best to look good clothed.

The moral of the story? I’m going to stop worrying about what’s behind me, and start concentrating on everything in front of me – like the future!

No more waxing the whole car; I’m just doing the hood – then hitting the road.

I originally wrote this for Gastric Bypass Barbie (my first blog)  in July of 2009. You know what? I still feel the same way…even 2-1/2 years later. I hope you will enjoy this little chapter from the past — and actually seize your day…every day. – Cari

Someday is Not A Day of the Week.
Someday Does Not Appear On Any Calendar.

I remember an old email that went around a few years back. I think it apropos to reprint here:

If I had My Life to Live Over
By the late Erma Bombeck

If I had my life to live over,

• I would have talked less and listened more.
• I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
• I would have eaten the popcorn in the ‘good’ living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
• I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
• I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
• I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
• I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
• I would have cried and laughed less while watching television – and more while watching life.
• I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
• I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren’t there for the day.
• I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
• Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
• When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, “Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.”
• There would have been more “I love you’s”.. More “I’m sorrys” …
• But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute… look at it and really see it … live it…and never give it back.

One of the lines I remembered most from Erma’s essay was the part about the pink sculpted candle shaped like a rose. That resonated so strongly with me at the time, because I was guilty of leaving my candles unburned. Why did I ever buy a candle if I didn’t intend to burn it? Was I waiting for a special occasion (or was I waiting for hell to freeze over?) Who knows?

One thing’s for sure, though – after reading Erma’s message, I started burning my candles (all over the furniture, and onto my good doily, thank you very much!) But, what fun I had smelling the wonderful fragrances, and basking by the soft glow with the lights turned off. After all, candles are made for burning.

So, how does this apply to WLS? Well, if you will indulge me a bit, I’m going to take a stab at rewriting Erma’s message to fit our new lives.

I Will Live the “Bariatric After Life™”
(Before I Join the After Life)

Before I leave this life to join the next, there are a few things I need to do. Since there’s no time like the present, AND, since “Someday” isn’t a day at all, I intend to begin now (and even repeat the things I like the best.)

TODAY:

• I will not wait until my thighs stop jiggling to put on a bathing suit and go to the beach.
• I will not beat myself up when I don’t get enough protein in one day, or eat too many carbs another.
• I will go for a long ride on my bike, and not be afraid that I won’t make it back home. The journey is what matters most; not the destination.
• I will stop calling attention to the clavicle bones that are jutting out of my shoulders, and will, instead, celebrate them with a cute sleeveless top.
• I will not wait until my legs are tan enough to wear those cute crop pants without panty hose.
• I will not insist that we turn the lights off so my hubby won’t see my shrinkly belly.
• I will laugh heartily and with great gusto when my body jiggles in ways it never did before.
• I will allow my family to “lay on the good pillows” when they are on the couch, and stop worrying that they will flatten them out. (Maybe I will have to work on this one a little bit…I really like those pillows!)
• I will stop worrying about the dust on the fan blades in the bedrooms. If I dust them once a month, that should be good enough for anyone!
• I will stop beating myself up because I can’t do that silly ab-machine at the gym (You know, the one where you lay down with your arms on the bars and then sit up while your back is entirely supported? I get horribly dizzy…)
• I will hug my daughter tightly and non-judgmentally and not feel responsible for her obesity.
• I will respond lovingly to my mom when she laments that she wishes I could “eat normally again.” I know that she loves me and wants me to be happy.
• I will spend less time weighing and more time playing
• I will stop measuring myself up against others to insure I am “no longer the fattest person in the room.”
• I will quit obsessing over whether Catherine Heigl really wears a size 6 or not.
• I will ride a horse on the beach next time I am in Mexico, and not worry that the horse will “break” under the weight of my butt.
• I will stop worrying that my bra gives me little bulges on my back.
• I will never utter the words “does this make my butt look too small” again! – By the way, Victoria’s Secret “But Lift” jeans with “engineered lifting panels” do not work.
• I will not feel compelled to preach the WLS gospel to every big person I see. They will come to it in their own time.
• I will stop wishing I had done the surgery sooner, and be thankful I didn’t do it later.
• I will no longer beat myself up because I cannot run. I can do many other things that I never could before – running just isn’t one of them.
• I will stop criticizing myself because I cannot ride my bike 100 miles in one day (for now).
• I will not get upset when someone does not like my advice (even if they asked for it.)
• I will thank God I am able to get out of bed every morning (without feeling like I was run over by a truck), and not complain about the ungodly hour!
• I will not complain that I must measure my food, and will be thankful that I have food to measure!
• I will relish flying for business trips (even back to China) because I now have plenty of space between me and the chair and me and the person next to me!
• I will not take it personally when someone says I took the “easy way out” by having weight loss surgery.
• I will jump in FRONT of the camera (rather than behind it) when someone wants to snap a picture of me.
• I will send out Christmas cards with a FAMILY PHOTO on them.
• I will make plans with high school and junior high school friends, and not worry that they will see my shrinkles (or wrinkles!)

And, with an appreciative nod to Dead Poet’s Society:

• I will suck the marrow out of life and not choke on the bone.
• I will sound my barbaric “yawp” over the rooftops of the world.
• I will live my life to the fullest, with each new breath, because, when that day finally comes, I want to find that I have lived deliberately and not discover that I have not lived at all.
• I will seize the day (Carpe Diem!)

I don’t know about you, but I waited 40 years for someday (which never came).
The last 2 years have been filled with amazing days, and I don’t intend to slow down anytime soon.

Are you waiting for someday to happen, or is today the day?

What SOMEDAYS are you making TO-DAYS?

Having weight loss surgery is a lot like being given a racecar when you don’t know how to drive (and can’t even reach the pedals!)

True, before surgery, you go through a whole bunch of driver’s education courses, but you’re given no test to prove you can actually stay in your lane, safely merge into the flow of traffic or even parallel park. Despite that, you get the keys to an Indy car, are warned not to go too fast, and told to check-in regularly with a mechanic (who probably only works on foreign cars, when you own a domestic, or vice versa.)

In other words, you’re given a license that says you’re an expert at doing something you’ve never had much success doing, because you pretty much always ended up crashing.

Of course, since you’ve been entrusted with this amazingly fast and agile vehicle, you’re not going to tell anyone that you aren’t old enough or experienced enough to drive it, because you’ve convinced yourself you’ll figure it out along the way.

That first year is supposed to be spent learning how to make your car operate at optimal performance, yet many of us have the pedal to the metal because we want to see “how fast we can go.” Most of the time, we’re doing 150 miles per hour, while complaining that we’re “going nowhere fast,” (since the speedometer says we should be able to go 200.) Meanwhile, we’re texting-while-driving, busily updating our Facebook statuses about how fast we’re going, and don’t have a single finger on the steering wheel!

Once we survive the first year, the second year is supposed to be spent preparing for maintenance. You know, checking the tires (are we getting enough exercise), checking our fuel levels (are we consuming healthy foods in appropriate portions), checking the fluids (are we drinking enough water), and determining what we’ll have to do to keep our car on the road (creating a routine). All too often at this point, the pit crew is frantically waving us in for a quick touch-up, but we’re too busy to stop because things are “going so well.”

Who needs labs? Who needs vitamins? C’mon, I can eat pretty much anything I want and still lose weight…!

Year two should be about moderation and adjustment, but more often than I care to recount, it’s about pushing the limits and ignoring the warning signs.

Don’t believe me? During this period, you’ll frequently hear people say that their car will be able to run like this FOREVER! That they’ll NEVER slow down and will ALWAYS be able maintain this level of performance.

“100 pounds gone FOREVER! I’ll NEVER go back again! I will ALWAYS workout every day and measure all of my food!”

Unfortunately, those of us who have been around the track a few laps will tell you that the road is NOT always clear, you DON’T always get to “draft” the leader, and SOMETIMES, there will be collisions that you might not be able to avoid. You will have to learn evasive maneuvers…you will have to learn to slow down and speed up; you’ll have to learn to be efficient with your fuel, and be vigilant in your maintenance and routine inspections, you’ll have to learn how to make repairs, and yes, you’ll have to establish ROUTINES.

• Does any of this sound remotely familiar?
• Do you think it sounds reasonable?
• Would you give your toddler keys to a Ferrari?

I think not…

Here’s the point: Having weight loss surgery doesn’t make you an expert at anything, except learning to drive really fast before you’ve learned to even how to start the car. Okay, okay, I hear you: Is it reasonable to believe that anyone is ever really ready when they have surgery? I dunno. I think maybe not, but I will allow that some people are really quick studies.

Perhaps it boils down to this: Should everyone automatically be given a license to drive, just because they happen to be able to reach the pedals?? Will everyone who GETS that license be able to drive forever without crashing?

Maybe so, but likely no.

What can we do to change or improve this situation? Well…

• Maybe we should explain to people that weight loss surgery will give them a license to THRIVE, not a license to DRIVE.
• Maybe we should stress that it’s up to them to gain experience behind the wheel before they start racing around a track without the knowledge of how to avoid injury.
• Maybe, as “mature drivers” ourselves, we should start waving the yellow flag to warn new drivers of potential hazards on the track.

I don’t pretend to have all of the answers, but now that I have a “few miles” under my belt, I have come to the conclusion that it’s my job to tell new drivers that they aren’t trying to capture some checkered flag so they can hoist a big silver cup that says, “I lost 150 Pounds. Forever!” I have to tell them to go easy and get those new tires warmed up before they race into that sharp turn. I have to tell them about hairpin turns and spinouts (regain and plateaus). I have to encourage them to run their race at a safe and maintainable pace…

I don’t know if anyone ever did that for me (or if I’d have listened anyway), but I don’t want to find some post-op broken down on the side of the road – or worse, in jail for a DWI (driving while ignorant).

Weight loss surgery is NOT a race to the finish line.

Weight loss surgery IS the keys to a new car that will take you as far as you want to go…if you maintain it, that is.

Enjoy the ride…responsibly

* * *

If you are having trouble “keeping your car in your lane,” feel like you’re “permanently broken down” on the side of the road, or just “can’t keep up” with the flow of traffic, find a MECHANIC (doctor, therapist, counselor, support group) and get a check-up from the neck-up. It’s the best thing you’ll ever do for yourself and it will definitely extend that “lifetime warranty” we all signed up for!

Today is Father’s Day. I knew that when I woke up. Heck, my first thoughts were:

1) I have to wish MexiKen a happy day.
2) I hope Hannah remembers to wish him a happy day.
3) I must call my mom to make sure she’s okay.
4) I must scan a picture of my pop and make it my Facebook profile pic.

Done.
Done.
Done.
Done.

With all of that business out of the way, I set about accomplishing as much as possible.

• I had to edit some videos (did 2).
• I had to upload some pictures (found 6).
• I had to write a blog about ASMBS (wrote 1).
• I had to update my Facebook status. (uh…not sure I did that…)
• I had to check in on Twitter. (I did that. Once.)
• I had to unpack and put everything away. (Done.)
• I had to wash laundry. (Still happening. My daughter jumped in the middle.)
• I had to check in on my school work and look at next week’s assignments. (Oops.)
• I had to write a follow-up to my instructor’s question. (Working on it.)
• I had to go to Trader Joe’s to buy food for next week.

I HAD to do a lot of things.
I DID a lot of things. Nearly all of them.
I did NOT go to church.

And, it was a very rough day. As productive as I was, I still felt disconsolate, saddened, ineffective, disappointed, confused and…downright exhausted. I rested yesterday after being awake for 24-hours, trying to get home from Orlando. I stayed in my jammies and did not put myself on a trip. I’m serious. I just dozed and caught up on Mad Men. That was pretty much it.

But, today, it was time to get back in the saddle. I go to work tomorrow (joy) and I have to be prepared for that.

So, what seems to be the problem. Why am I so…down? No, it’s not PMS (though MexiKen *gently* hinted that it *might* be hormones, and *maybe I should check that* because I *get like this*…*sometimes*…*hormonally…*) No, I did not chew his head off for suggesting this, but I do not believe he was accurate about it.

I kept going back to last week, and my very exhausting trip to ASMBS. I (and my team) accomplished a TON of good work for our community. We put ourselves out there and spread our message of HOPE and SUPPORT. That is really hard work, by the way. It’s not easy being “ON,” all the time, and sometimes, I get it wrong. Sometimes, I get smacked for not conducting myself exactly as someone else thinks I should, and that hurts. Mostly because it takes me back to all of those days of guilt, shame and letting others down. I plug right back into that child of about 7, whose little heart aches because she “disappointed” someone, didn’t say the right thing — or worse — made a mistake and said the WRONG THING.

Oh boy. That stuff hurts. So, my little heart has been hurting for 4 days, and I kinda thought that’s what this sadness was all about.

Well, It wasn’t.

I figured out (in the parking lot at Trader Joe’s, thank you very much), that I am very, very sad about my daddy. Today is the third Father’s Day without him. Trust me when I say this, nothing in life prepares you for losing a parent — even though you know it’s going to happen eventually.

The hardest thing is, no one tells you that, one day, when you aren’t ready, you won’t be able to call yourself daddy’s little girl anymore. If they did, maybe you’d appreciate it more while you can still say it. I’m not sure…

I always think I’m pretty strong. I always think I’m doing okay, and I can handle things. I think I’ve made this great progress with my life, and I have my dad’s death in this tidy little compartment…somewhere in my head.

The only problem is, the pain is in my heart – not my head.

So, tonight, as I prepare to wind down for the day, I am giving myself permission to cry a little, and be sad a little, and just realize that it’s okay to be messy. It is okay not to be all things to everybody all the time. It is okay to remember myself sometimes.

Amidst all of the things I have to do, I have to remember to take care of me.

I’m doing it now. And, daddy, if you can see and hear me, I hope you are proud of me for doing so much of what you always wanted to do, but never quite found the time to do.

I love you! Your little girl.

Inflatable Life Raft

The term life raft is used for vessels carried by ships and planes to allow passengers and crew to escape in an emergency. Inflatable life rafts, also called life boats are always equipped with auto-inflation carbon dioxide canisters or mechanical pumps. The pressure release mechanism is fitted on board ships so that the canister or pump automatically inflates the lifeboat, and the lifeboat breaks free of the sinking vessel. Inflatable life rafts are made from flexible material, usually rubber, canvas, or neoprene, and hold air at high volume but low pressure. However, if there isn’t enough air inside, inflatable boats are apt to fold in the middle. Thus, they need to be pumped up to the proper pressure using bellows.

I’ve gotta be honest with you — I’m doing all that I can not to crack under the holiday pressure. Last week, I promised myself that I would not get plugged into the stress of the season by obsessing over things I can’t control or shouldn’t worry about.

Right at the top of that mental list are the words, ‘HOLIDAY FOOD,’ followed by the phrase, “it’s not about the food, it’s about the people.” For as long as I can remember (pre-surgery, of course), the holidays meant things like fudge, brownies, chocolate chip cookies, magic cookie bars, homemade cranberry sauce, apple pie, See’s candy, stuffing and leftovers. The holidays were when clients sent me wonderful (edible) gifts and neighbors dropped off baskets of baked goods. Heck, the holidays were when I broke out the cubes of real butter and colossal bags of chocolate chips and got down to the business of “celebrating through baked goods.” But, all of that changed when I had gastric bypass surgery. That first Christmas, I sat in the recliner at my brother’s house and tried to nurse a pumpkin shake while everyone else gathered around the table to overindulge. Last year, I was just trying to survive a gall bladder attack, which again meant that food was way down the list of things to do.

This year, I’m healthy (but for the annoying stress fracture), which means that I get to enjoy the holidays as a normal person living a full and wildly successful bariatric after life. But, what exactly IS normal? Do normal people get stressed out during this time of year? (Yes). Do normal people worry about exercising during this time of year? (Yes). Do normal people worry about what they are going to eat? (Yes).

Gosh, normal doesn’t sound all that different from what I did for 40 years, it’s just that NOW, I’m doing “normal” in a 150-lb body.

Which brings me to the title of this posting:  INFLATABLE LIFE RAFT (What if I Explode?)

When I think of an inflatable life raft, I visualize one of those boats that pops open when it’s not supposed to. In the movies, life rafts always inflate inside a tight space, like a compact car, a closet, or somewhere there isn’t enough room for expansion.

Sort of like my size 6 pants.

This morning, I had this horrible visual — that I was one of those inflatable life rafts (contents under massive pressure) just waiting to explode — figuratively and literally! I’ve got all of this mental stress just percolating beneath the surface, which by extension, is translating to physical stress (mascarading as pounds). I am not doing anything especially different with my eating — EXCEPT that I fear I’m NOT getting enough protein in, I’ve run out of some of my critical vitamin supplements, and I can’t afford to replenish my usual “go-to” goodies, e.g., Revival Soy Chips and Whey Up! protein drinks. I’m mudding through and doing my best to make good choices, but the stress of it all is bearing down on me, manifesting itself as the “blahs.” As I wrote on another forum, I’ve got a terrible case of the “I don’t wannas.”

Not to say that this past weekend wasn’t amazingly productive, because it was! I finalized my Thanksgiving menu, prepared my extensive shopping list (in Excel, naturally), broke it out by store (and category, e.g., “Bakery,” “Deli,” “Dairy,” “Produce,” etc.), transcribed some recipes and posted on the fridge, organized my earrings (I know that sounds weird, but they were on top of my bureau in neat little piles and I just wanted to put them away so they wouldn’t be cluttering my room for Thanksgiving), did the laundry, cleaned out my car (just another niggling thing that had been clouding my mind and keeping me from doing other things), visited a friend in the hospital, worked out, went to church, AND, did my grocery shopping at FOUR STORES (Von’s, Trader Joe’s, Big Lots and WalMart). So, it was a big weekend and I felt pretty accomplished — ready to take on the short work week and prepare for “The Big Day.”

And then I woke up yesterday morning and here’s how I felt: I’m on a rollercoaster and just roared down that first big drop. Unfortunately, I am now stuck at the bottom and there’s no chain to drag me up to the top of the hill. So, there I am in my car (with my restraints securely fastened) and I’m not panicking. I can see the stairs which will lead me to safety, but I don’t wanna take ‘em. I just want to sit in my seat and wait for the ride to continue.

Well, when I woke up today, that whole inflatable raft thing happened. What if my inflatable life raft springs open while I’m sitting in my rollercoaster car at the bottom of the hill??? There will be no way out. (At least that’s what my brain is telling me.)

What exactly does that raft represent? Oh, that’s easy: My “before” life, obesity, fat. I’m wresting with the irrational fear that I will wake up one morning and be a size 28-30 again, all because of the holidays. The part of me that wants to move as fast as she can is paralyzed by an overwhelming lack of “oomph.” The “I don’t wannas” have moved in and there is no sign of “clearing” until tomorrow afternoon sometime (when I will leave work, return to my “civilian” life, and start chopping onions and celery for the stuffing.)

I guess the best thing I can do between now and then is:

1. Give a voice to the things that are concerning me. Make a list of all the things I believe I have to do, then prioritize, determine what will get done and what won’t, then LET GO of whatever doesn’t make the cut. I’ve been doing this mentally, but now I must do it physically. (Time for another Excel spreadsheet!)
2. Stop worrying about money. (LOL – as if!) This has been a constant source of stress since May, but we have survived to this point and will continue to do so — as long as I am mindful of the budget and don’t get caught up in what I believe I “should” be able to buy.
3. Workout daily to the best of my ability. Okay, my leg hurts and my feet feel like they have 10 pound bricks tied to each foot as I pedal the Life Cycle — so I’ll just do the best I can and stay active!
4. Realize that everything will work out just the way it is supposed to, and no one will be any the wiser. My 25 guests will not care that my bedroom carpet did not get steam-cleaned, or that I don’t have fancy centerpieces on each table. They will care that we took the time to cook and bring everyone together for a beautiful day. They will not be looking at the number on my scale!
5. Eat slowly, with purpose, and include sufficient protein. I will continue to say “No” to those stupid Boston Market “corn bread” muffins at the office (that are really nothing more than cakes, disguised as something sorta healthy, but laden with 35 grams of carbs and 25 grams of sugar!)
6. Live in the moment. If I do not have a ton of energy right now, that’s okay. I will work with what I have and know that I have an amazing husband upon whom I can rely. Together, we will pull this off (as we always do).
7. Realize that I get this stressed out every year, but just never had a blog to discuss it!
8. Exhale.
9. Acknowledge that I miss my dad and am a little uncertain about our first Thanksgiving without him.

At the end of the day, Thanksgiving will be here on Friday (that’s when we celebrate), the turkey will get cooked, the stuffing will be ready, the table will be laden with food, there will be lots of healthy food choices and sugar free desserts that I can eat, but more importantly, I will be surrounded by people I love, and great joy will abound — regardless of the plastic utensils and paper plates! And that inflatable life raft? I think I’m going to store that with my Earthquake Preparedness Kit in the motorhome.

OOOPS! One more thing I’ll need to work on. Someday.

Get ready to file this under: UNPOPULAR OPINION

In the Bariatric After Life, a lot of time is devoted to “why” we do or don’t do certain things. I’d argue that fighting the weight loss (and maintenance) battle is 5% physical and 95% mental.

How many times have you asked yourself:

“Why am I always hungry?”
“What can’t I stop eating that thing?”
“Why don’t I want to work out?”

The “whys” inevitably lead to the “hows…”

“How do I make myself do this thing?”
“How do I stop myself from eating that thing?”
“How do I get back to the gym?”

For me, there are two answers:

Why Ask Why?
Just Do It.

I know that might sound glib (and unpopular), but that’s what I keep coming back to as I strive to live a fulfilling ‘after life’. When I wake up in the morning, and say, “How am I going to get myself out of bed and stagger down to the Life Cycle?” (remember, I’m nursing a stress fracture…), the answer is always the same: “I’m just going to DO it.” And, for the past 4 days, I HAVE just done it.

When I find myself overwhelmed with the desire to buy air popped “light” popcorn at Trader Joe’s, and ask, “How am I going to get past this craving???” — Here’s what I do; I don’t buy it. Then, I can’t eat it. (I just DON’T do it.)

When I find myself wanting to graze at night, and I’m wringing my hands, asking, “How do I control this insatiable urge? Why does this always happen at night?” I just tell myself that I don’t need whatever it is I’m itching for and then, if I still want to graze, I go to bed. Of course, if there is a real reason for the hunger (e.g., hormones (LOL) or the fact that I didn’t eat enough protein in the day)…then I can satisfy the need.

Look, I’m not perfect, and it’s not simple, but really, why do we always try to make more of it than it is? It’s like asking why a criminal commits a heinous crime, and then explaining that he had a rotten childhood. It doesn’t change the fact that a crime has occurred. Now, I’m not juxtaposing crime with eating or not exercising — let’s not go there — I’m saying that, just because you know why a behavior or thought is motivated, doesn’t mean the behavior or thought has to be put into action.

In other words, I was restricted to what I could eat as a child because my brother is diabetic. Or, at least, that’s why I THOUGHT I was restricted; in reality, my mom was feeding us healthy food because it was the RIGHT thing do do. But I walked away with the WRONG message, so the seed was planted and I fertilized it for about 40 years until it became a big, fat overgrown morass. Some might argue that I over ate as an adult to compensate for for my perceived sleight as a child. But, in the end, who cares WHY I over ate? I just needed to STOP the behavior.

I guess what I’m feebly trying to say is, sometimes, we put all of our energy into trying to understand WHY we want to do something, and there’s nothing left to actually change the behavior. That is why I have channeled my focus into living by the two mantras that opened this post:

Why Ask Why?
Just DO It.

I don’t always succeed, but I can guarantee you: By following this sage advice, I succeed way more often, than when I agonize over the “whys” and ‘hows”…

What do you think?

Why Me?

I originally wrote this post in 2009, but I think it is still pretty relevant, so I’m sharing it for the a whole new year — Enjoy!

Many years ago, while I was working on my masters degree, a fellow student lent me an audio book on tape that she said had changed her life. It turned out to be Dr. Phil — whom I’d not heard about at that time, since he didn’t have his own program yet. I still remember the shock of hearing his voice for the first time. And that accent! I wasn’t sure I’d be able to tolerate his voice through an entire 4 CDs!

Fortunately, I stuck with it, and learned a powerful lesson that has become the very core of my successful weight loss journey.

Background
In 1996, The Texas Cattlemen Association (US Beef Producers) sued Oprah Winfrey claiming “fear mongering” over her comment that she wouldn’t eat hamburgers again because she was afraid of contracting Mad Cow disease. Her statement carried so much weight, that in one day, sales of hamburgers plummeted, severely impacting beef industry futures. The cattlemen sued Oprah for her comments and for one year, she and her staff were hounded and threatened by Beef Industry thugs. Now, this posting is NOT about the rightness or wrongness of Oprah’s statements or the behavior of the Texas Beef Producers — I have no, uh…cow in this fight. Stick with me here.

As Oprah’s court date approached, she rented a house (well, “compound”, really) in Texas to be nearer to the proceedings. She asked Dr. Phil to stay with her for the month leading up to the big event. As Dr. Phil tells it, Oprah was devastated at what she felt was undeserved harassment for her comments. She felt that she was entitled to her opinion and didn’t understand why she was being sued for something that should be protected under the First Amendment. More importantly, she was disconsolate over the fact that her PEOPLE were being threatened and harassed — something she could not abide. As she put it, the Cattlemen’s “Beef” was with HER — not her people — and she was beside herself with worry and grief over their unfair and unwarranted treatment.

As her day in court drew nearer, she had many sleepless nights. One particular morning (around 3AM), she padded down the hall in her robe and slippers and knocked on Dr. Phil’s door. She said, “Phil, I just can’t take this anymore. Why are they DOING this to me? Why are they scaring my people? They have nothing to do with it — I’m the one who said what I said — not them! They don’t deserve to be harassed. Why won’t they just leave everyone else alone? This is so unfair.”

And here’s the crux of the lesson. Dr. Phil responded quite simply that it didn’t matter WHY they were doing what they were doing, and it didn’t matter if she DESERVED it or not. What mattered most was what she was going to DO about it.

In other words, was she going to continue wringing her hands over the “WHY” of the situation, or was she going to put her energy into the “HOW” — as in “HOW was she going to WIN the battle?”

Let me tell you. that was a Helen Keller moment for me. I distinctly remember saying, “I get it. I totally get it.”

I’d essentially spent my entire life being Oprah and wondering WHY people did or said hurtful things to me, or why I was always a victim of unfair circumstances. What I DIDN’T do was figure out how to move beyond the situation and succeed DESPITE it.

Let me explain how this crippling behavior used to manifest itself in me:

Why can’t I eat what everybody else eats?
Why do I always have to be on a diet?
Why aren’t I more athletic?
Why do I have these fat genes?
Why does my metabolism suck so much?
Why do I have a thyroid problem?
Why do I hurt all the time?
Why do I have to count calories?

Here’s what I SHOULD have been telling myself:

“Why can’t I eat what everybody else eats?”
First of all, *everybody* doesn’t eat *everything* — everyone has to make their own choices, and *everyone* doesn’t eat an entire sleeve of Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies in one sitting. Even if they did, they are not ME. I only have control over MY situation, so I need to decide whether eating 25 Thin Mint cookies at one time is going to help me get thin or not.

Why do I always have to be on a diet?
I wouldn’t have to be on a diet if I just watched what and how much I ate. This isn’t just happening to me, I’m a willing participant in this poor eating plan. However, even if no one else on the planet had to be on a diet, I do, so why fight it?

Why aren’t I more athletic?
I can’t waste time and energy wishing I were someone else. I am who I am, and that means I’ll probably never be the fastest or strongest athlete out there — unless that’s what I truly want to be. I have to learn to work within my physical limitations and just do the best I can. The goal is not to be THE best; it’s to be MY best.

Why do I have these fat genes?
We don’t choose our parents. We get what we get in the genetic lottery. It’s what we do with what we’re given that matters most. How can I use my genetics to my advantage?

Why does my metabolism suck so much?
I wasn’t born with a hyper-fast metabolism like some people. As a matter of fact, not EVERYONE has a metabolism like that. Most people have a “normal” metabolism, and it’s up them to know how to make it work for their bodies. Given my chemical make-up, what can I do to ensure my metabolism is working at its optimal efficiency?

Why do I have a thyroid problem?
Why is the grass green or the sky blue? Why do I have brown eyes instead of blue ones? Why do I have to dye my hair auburn to be a redhead? Who cares “why” something is a certain way — questioning its existence doesn’t treat the condition. I should be asking what I can do to bring the thyroid problem under control. Do I need medication, or is it controllable with food?

Why do I hurt all the time?
Am I working out, eating right, and taking my vitamins each day? Is my pain due to fibromyalgia? If so, have I eliminated yeast and sugar from my diet, or am I continuing to make poor food choices, which exacerbate my pain?

Why do I have to count calories?
Asking why I have to be accountable makes about as much sense as asking why I have to drive the speed limit or follow laws. Again, arguing the “why” of a situation doesn’t get me to the “how” — as in, “how can I win this battle?”

Which brings us back to Oprah: The moment she shifted her thinking from WHY and moved into HOW, was the moment she won the battle. She stopped asking why the suit was being brought against her, or why her people were being attacked, and sought about finding a winning strategy.

Ultimately, she did prevail in court, as I prevailed in my own battle with weight. (Actually, my weight battle is never “over” and I have to continue to wage war against it everyday, but you get the idea…)

The foundation for my success came from Dr. Phil and Oprah: I don’t question WHY I have to eat a certain way, or WHY I can’t eat and drink at the same time. I don’t ask WHY I had to have bariatric surgery to lose my weight, or WHY I have to workout every day. I don’t ask WHY I have loose skin, or WHY I will have to fight this battle everyday for the rest of my life.

“WHY” doesn’t solve the problem and it certainly doesn’t make the problem disappear.

“HOW” gives you power.
“HOW” helps you win the war.

“WHY” is not an action word.
“HOW” gets things done.

Are you are “WHYner” or a “HOW-TO-er”?

My new therapist, Jim, says I’m a “doer” — I guess that means I’m successfully ensconced in the “HOW-TO” camp.

Believe me when I say this: It doesn’t matter WHY I was born with the chemical make-up I have; It matters what I DO with it, and I’m DOING great things.

How about you?