So as of last week, I've been doing Weight Watchers for a year. I've lost about 70 pounds, which is nice, and in an extremely unlikely event, have become a fitness nut, which is thrilling.
But I've been struggling lately. As much as I believe it's unhealthy for me to worry about food, to feel guilty about overeating, I still do. It's a stressful situation. I can tell myself that it's okay to eat what I want, that I'll still be working out, that I'll be eating healthier things later, that it's not the end of the world if I gain a pound, but I can't really turn off the other voice. The one who says I'm sabotaging my weight loss efforts when I eat cookies, that I'm still fat and look horrible, that I should be making healthier food choices.
I've always had only two rules for myself. One was that I would record my Weight Watchers points as accurately as I could. Always. It was okay to eat whatever I wanted in whatever quantity I wanted, but I had to record it. For most of the last twelve months, that has been really helpful. I actually find it comforting to write down a number after I overeat, even if the number is huge. It's just a number. I start over with daily points the next day and with weekly points the next week. I earn more points every time I work out. I haven't killed any puppies, I just ate a lot of points. No one cares but me.
Only for some reason, over the last few weeks, it's been causing a lot of anxiety. I hate that I sometimes debate over a breakfast that's one or two points higher than another or over whether or not to eat a piece of fruit because I'm thinking about how many points I have left. How ridiculous is that? Deep down, I don't believe it's ever a bad idea to eat a bunch of grapes or a bowl of oatmeal with peanut butter.
My other rule is No Angst. So when recording points, worrying about points, started to cause me angst, I had to decide which was a bigger rule. I decided No Angst. So as an experiment, I'm not recording or thinking about points. My goal is to do everything pretty much the same except without the anxiety. My exercise routine will be the same because it makes me happy, I will still go to Weight Watchers meetings and get weighed and will still weigh myself at home. I will keep eating basically as I've been eating, except without recording anything. I'm going to see what happens for about a month. If I find that I'm steadily gaining weight, I'll reassess. If my weight stays the same, I'm okay with that for now. If I lose weight, even if it's more slowly than I have been, I'll be thrilled. It's been almost a week so far and I am feeling optimistic about it. I am definitely less anxious around food and don't think I'm eating any more than I was before. I've lost a pound. I'll keep you posted on how it goes.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
In defense of emotional eating
It seems like everywhere I look, there are articles in magazines and posts on health blogs about how to overcome emotional eating. I'd like to break away from the pack and praise emotional eating. At least for me, it serves a purpose, and it hasn't done me any harm lately.
I'd like to start by saying I am an emotional eater. I eat for comfort, I stress eat, I get lonely and crave cookies or Chinese food or ice cream and I not only have to eat exactly what I'm craving, but I have to eat too much of it. Part of the comfort comes from the feeling of being too full. I'm not saying that's a good thing. It's probably a huge factor in how I got to be overweight in the first place and that feeling of being too full is uncomfortable. I hate it. But I believe it's more important to pay attention to it than to fight it. It has been helpful for me to notice my patterns of emotional eating -- what kind of mood sets it off, what happens if I don't succumb, how does it feel when I do, etc... And I certainly try to keep it in check -- I can often find other ways to comfort myself. I can write or talk or work out and sometimes doing one of those things curbs my desire to eat a whole pizza. Sometimes going to the trouble of cooking something that's healthy and delicious and eating that will curb the desire. Part of the comfort comes from the idea of giving myself what I want -- I deserve these cookies -- if I can shift that to: I deserve this root vegetable soup, then the same purpose is served.
I've been losing weight for nearly a year now, and one of the most important things I've learned is that giving in to occasional fits of emotional over-eating does not derail me. I can eat way too much for one meal or over the course of a day or over the course of several days. It usually doesn't feel good. It usually makes me feel sluggish and guilty and fat. But it is also comfortable and familiar and on some level, it works. It provides a certain quality of comfort that nothing else does and if I deny myself the right to that comfort, I get more and more agitated. I start to resent that root vegetable soup instead of craving it. Once I've eaten the donuts (because I absolutely had to, because I wanted them and don't I deserve to have what I want? because one donut doesn't make me feel like I got what I wanted, I have to eat four and have a sugar headache...) I relax. I crave my next work-out. I crave my next salad. And I see, again and again and again over the last year, that it doesn't stop me from losing weight. It doesn't stop me from working out or eating well 90% of the time. Now, part of the comfort comes from that. From the realization, over and over, that my binge didn't make me regain 70 pounds, or even 5. It didn't take away my muscles. It didn't take away my desire to work out every day or my love of vegetables. I am comforted by not having to lose my source of comfort in order to lose weight.
I'd like to start by saying I am an emotional eater. I eat for comfort, I stress eat, I get lonely and crave cookies or Chinese food or ice cream and I not only have to eat exactly what I'm craving, but I have to eat too much of it. Part of the comfort comes from the feeling of being too full. I'm not saying that's a good thing. It's probably a huge factor in how I got to be overweight in the first place and that feeling of being too full is uncomfortable. I hate it. But I believe it's more important to pay attention to it than to fight it. It has been helpful for me to notice my patterns of emotional eating -- what kind of mood sets it off, what happens if I don't succumb, how does it feel when I do, etc... And I certainly try to keep it in check -- I can often find other ways to comfort myself. I can write or talk or work out and sometimes doing one of those things curbs my desire to eat a whole pizza. Sometimes going to the trouble of cooking something that's healthy and delicious and eating that will curb the desire. Part of the comfort comes from the idea of giving myself what I want -- I deserve these cookies -- if I can shift that to: I deserve this root vegetable soup, then the same purpose is served.
I've been losing weight for nearly a year now, and one of the most important things I've learned is that giving in to occasional fits of emotional over-eating does not derail me. I can eat way too much for one meal or over the course of a day or over the course of several days. It usually doesn't feel good. It usually makes me feel sluggish and guilty and fat. But it is also comfortable and familiar and on some level, it works. It provides a certain quality of comfort that nothing else does and if I deny myself the right to that comfort, I get more and more agitated. I start to resent that root vegetable soup instead of craving it. Once I've eaten the donuts (because I absolutely had to, because I wanted them and don't I deserve to have what I want? because one donut doesn't make me feel like I got what I wanted, I have to eat four and have a sugar headache...) I relax. I crave my next work-out. I crave my next salad. And I see, again and again and again over the last year, that it doesn't stop me from losing weight. It doesn't stop me from working out or eating well 90% of the time. Now, part of the comfort comes from that. From the realization, over and over, that my binge didn't make me regain 70 pounds, or even 5. It didn't take away my muscles. It didn't take away my desire to work out every day or my love of vegetables. I am comforted by not having to lose my source of comfort in order to lose weight.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
What I mean when I say Love
I love my body. No, seriously. I don't mean it's perfect or that I never look at myself and cringe about something -- the size of my belly or a pimple, new wrinkles, hair growing where I don't need hair -- I'm vain enough and I have plenty of room for negative body image -- I don't think anyone escapes that entirely. What I mean is, I love my body like I love my family and my dearest friends and my city and my car. They are all flawed. They all have qualities that drive me crazy and make me hate them momentarily. They are limited, which is frustrating. But the core of the relationship stays strong. Deep down in my heart, I want my body to be happy. I love that it carries me around all day. I am proud of how strong it is. I am amazed at its resiliency, its ability to heal itself. It gives me pleasure. And sometimes I am blown away by its beauty. All that makes me want to treat my body well. It makes me happy to nourish my body well, to allow it to rest, to take it out for runs and yoga classes. I am forgiving when I see an ugly side or am slowed down by its limitations. I forgive it when it causes me pain.
I feel that I was taught for so much of my life to hate my body, to want it to be different, to fight to change it. And that never inspired me to treat it well. Loving my body right now, is what allows me to change it. If I were hating it now, or hating it as it was a year ago, in order to will it to be different at some point in the future, I wouldn't treat it with kindness. I wish that when people talked about losing weight or striving for better health, they spoke more about loving your body, loving your self, and being kind.
I feel that I was taught for so much of my life to hate my body, to want it to be different, to fight to change it. And that never inspired me to treat it well. Loving my body right now, is what allows me to change it. If I were hating it now, or hating it as it was a year ago, in order to will it to be different at some point in the future, I wouldn't treat it with kindness. I wish that when people talked about losing weight or striving for better health, they spoke more about loving your body, loving your self, and being kind.
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