Rewards

In spite of my last post, I've actually been doing pretty well. I measure my total loss from the single-day-high post Christmas - and on Friday (my lowest day so far) I was 8 pounds lighter.  More importantly, I've been doing what I set out to do. I have been planning and mostly controlling my eating. I have been exercising and looking for opportunities to be more active. I have been adding more vegetables into my diet.

So when a sale catalogue of jewelry from the Metropolitan Museum came by, I didn't just browse and toss. I hung onto it, studied it, and picked out a bracelet, way more than I would ordinarily get for myself:

Today I made my planned reward level and point, click, it's on its way!

Analysis of an Eating Event

Last night, and the night before, are not my proudest moments. Definitely had issues around unplanned extra eating. Certainly not "binges" and certainly not out of control. But I was driven to eat for comfort, not hunger.  I didn't try very hard to fight it, and rationalized why it was ok.  This is dangerous business, this loss of discipline and beginning rationalization. "I've had some success, things seem to be working, so why not lighten up?"

What actually happened?  I was done eating for the day, but then was driven off the couch and into the kitchen searching for something to eat.  I did eat, more than I planned when I said "I have a small amount of the calorie budget left, lets see what I can eat."  Instead, I ended up eating more than I was thinking about when I went searching, and even making one more trip back to the kitchen for one last tid-bit.  It wasn't even that good, but I didn't throw it away, I finished every tiniest bite.

Judith Beck would say to work through some steps to think about this, in best cognitive behavior therapy style.  It's also time to go back to her books, and work through some of the exercises and steps I've skipped over. Here's the drill:

What was I thinking? (This is not rhetorical, but an honest inquiry into thoughts and motivations.)  I was thinking I had room in my calorie budget for an additional treat. I was thinking my diet has been very successful the last couple of weeks, so its time to give myself a treat. I was thinking I was tired, I have been very disciplined all week, I restrained myself during extreme provocations, so it was time to reward myself with another treat.  I really want to feel full, not just "not hungry". I had chicken and green beans for supper instead of pizza, I've got room to eat some sweets.

What would have been helpful responses?  (Self-talk is the cornerstone of cognitive therapy.) Clearly, I am not hungry. This is in my head, not my stomach.  What can I do that would be a different reward? How can I distract myself? What about a nice cup of hot tea?

I'm now feeling like I'm coming down with something. Don't know what. But I'm stuck here in the house with a big snowstorm and very cold blowing weather outside, so distractions are harder to come by.  There is a real temptation to say because I'm sick I don't need to pay attention to what I'm eating. Very bad thinking. Instead, I should think about how much more quickly I'll feel good if I stick to the diet and won't have gained weight when the illness is over.

Often, it has been an illness that knocked me off the diet wagon. I've got some soups in the house, other worthwhile foods as well. Let's stick with them. I'll have a treat, but a planned one worked into the budget.  I should write it down now.

STRESS

So I was humming along, feeling pretty good, on the elliptical today, nice small lunch. Feeling very productive at work. Then via email, notified of a parenting crisis.

EEEEKKKKK!  Stuck into a couple more meetings, all I could think of was what to do, how to handle. And it crossed my mind I'm being too self absorbed, focused on myself and my body, when what I really need to do is take care of my kids.  I felt sick to my stomach, like I was punched.

I dealt with the crisis. It kind of petered out. Wasn't the big deal I thought it was. Coped, and didn't cut any line of communication. I was exhausted, like I ran a marathon. But I had chicken and green beans for supper, well within the calorie limit. And tomorrow is another day.

French Bread

Things are going well. I'm planning my eating, sticking to the plan, and starting to see some results on the scale. And so I lose my focus, and serve only meat, potatoes and bread for dinner - no vegetable at all.

I made some fresh Trader Joe's french bread into garlic bread. I knew it would be a hit, and I didn't make too much. However, two people didn't show up for dinner, and there was a surplus. The kids were chatty, and for a change we lingered at the table together. I had taken and eaten my one planned piece of bread already, but the rest was just sitting there...

Afterwards, I went to log it into my iPhone calorie tracker. Three pieces = 544 calories???? WTF? So I've kept looking, in my other iPhone calorie tracker. Three pieces = 284 calories??? Now on-line, several other sites, the consensus seems to be slightly over 100 calories per piece. I'm at the high end of my calorie target, but not off the charts. I can handle this - and I can learn a lesson from it.

Kim Bensen says "know before you go". Judith Beck says log your meals before you eat. If I'd had a number in my head as I sat there looking with the food in front of me, I don't know if I would have made a different choice. But I might have. I need to do more research, and I need to keep up my focus on planning.

My Good Old NordicTrak

When I'm on my NordicTrak (or nerdictrak, as a friend calls it) I'm not on some big modern electronic machine. My NT dates from the early nineties, and it is made primarily of wood and is an entirely mechanical device. It has long wooden slats with toe grips on them and I slide them back and forth as if I were skiing. The skis turn a flywheel, and the resistance on the flywheel can be adjusted to make the skis slide more easily or harder. I work my arms pulling a rope that is wrapped around a pulley with variable resistance. There is an electronic speedometer that is plugged into the flywheel, but I need to tell it what level of resistance I've set manually.

I've had this device since the early nineties and it still serves me well. My use over the years has been sporadic, with a few totally neglected years in there. But I think it saved my life back when I was filled with bleakness in Chicago. I got up and got moving and ending up changing my life.

During the Big Loss, in the late nineties, I averaged more than five days a week on it. Thirty-five minutes seems to be my magic time. I've still got the same setup now I had then. Right next to the NT I have a portable CD player. (Sadly, too old to have an iPod input). The table it's on has just enough extra space to hold a couple of CDs, a glass of water, and my eye glasses which I take off my sweaty face. I have a daylight lamp on a stand shoved up against the front corner of the NT, to shine in my face and wake me up (and combat seasonal affective disorder).

I work hard on the NT. I can't watch tv or listen to audiobooks or read a book. I have to have music and it has to be loud. I have to move to the beat, it is impossible to be out of sync, so the tempo has to be right for how I am feeling. I play CDs so I can't change during a session, though the skip button is within reach. I vary between classical, rock and reggae, and often prefer no lyrics so my mind can wander. During the Big Loss, I significantly expanded my classical library and considered it to be exercise equipment.  I would look forward to going down to the basement to listen to my new music, and incidentally get the exercise at the same time.

I got a heart rate monitor during the Big Loss and amused myself during the daily sessions observing how my body acts. Some says (like Sunday and today) it all feels uphill. For a large amount of subjective effort, I can't go very fast and the heart rate won't go up very fast. Other days, a given heart rate results in different speeds, for no apparent reason. I really need the speedometer or the heart rate monitor, to keep checking and keep pushing myself. Otherwise, I drift into an easy glide, not much different than strolling with the dog.  Certainly I find I wake up during the day, so a given heartrate results in a faster speed later on. I collect statistics on myself, do arithmetic in my head about how far I'm going and how fast, and generally amuse myself in my own mind. It's the closest I get to meditation.

Always, the first five minutes are hard. Sometimes, the first ten are bad. Rarely, by fifteen minutes in I'm still struggling. This time, I'm adding all-out-effort intervals, going as fast as I absolutely can for 30 or 60 seconds, before dropping back to my more normal speed. I find it gets me revved up and into the exercise euphoria more quickly, and the overall time goes much faster.

Today, it started hard and stayed hard. The heart rate wasn't going up, and neither was the speed, but I felt I was slogging through soft sand on the beach.  After 20 minutes, I'd had enough. I went upstairs and grabbed the weights, which I also totally love for my upper body. A rigorous and vigorous workout with them, also hard and far from peak performance, made me feel better about quitting the NT so soon.

At any rate, I love my good old NT. I don't know if they make these mechanical things anymore, but it really works for me.

No Excuse, Ma'am

I planned to NordicTrak this morning and didn't. I lingered in bed too long, drifting in and out of sleep while letting the soothing tones of NPR wash over me without attaching meaning to the words.

No real reason. Too late now, showered and about to head out the door. What is recoverable about the day?

Rigorous planning and execution of my eating. I am set up for that. A walk at lunch? Perhaps, but I think it's jam packed. Certainly the gym is out. Something this evening? HS will be home, so maybe I won't have to cook. At least the wii or DDR.

Off I go.


- iPhone uPdate

Every Step a Slog

Today, every stride on the NordicTrak was an effort. It pretty much always starts that way, but usually five or ten minutes into it the music and the motion have taken me out of myself and I am just gliding along. Time on the NT is meditation time for me. My mind wanders, insights come, memories resurface, I get direction for the day.

Not today. I had to keep coming back to the gauge, making my legs move faster, keep working.

Now, I've got a pleased feeling for having stuck to it. My muscles are pleased, (though actually it's mostly my arms feeling good from the weights after the NT). If it was like this every day, I wouldn't be able to keep it up.

Often when it's so hard, it's an early warning of getting sick. At least one exercise book I've read would suggest it's a symptom of overtraining. That seems unlikely. The day is very grey and I'm very sensitive to sunlight. I felt pressed for time, and I had to fiddle with the monitor gadget on the NT for several minutes to get it to work. (I'm so numbers driven I couldn't imagine being on the NT without a sense of how hard and fast I'm going. Especially on a day like today when I can't just estimate.)

I did convince myself to take the time. I feel the time pressure, but if I can't make myself take the time on a weekend day when the schedule is self-imposed, when would I be able to do it? So yay me.


- iPhone uPdate