I can't see myself

Quite some time ago, before he was a well-known humorist, Dave Barry wrote a book called Stay Fit and Healthy Until You're Dead. In the book, he had a little bit on whether or not women should lose weight. There may have been a chart of a table of some sort which evaluated whether women should lose weight. It said something like:

Big: you should probably lose weight

Medium: you could stand to lose some weight

Small: you should consider losing weight

The joke was that, no matter what size you are, if you are a woman, you should probably lose weight. Since Mr. Barry was, in part, lampooning the fitness industry, this type of humor was all too apropos.

This situation came to mind for me as I've found lately that I cannot "see" myself at all anymore. Initially, it was easy to see bodily changes, but it is getting harder and harder to tell the difference. To me, I've gone from, "so huge I can't look at myself" to "so huge I can't stand to look at myself" to "so huge that it hurts to look at myself." My body image isn't changing at all in any positive way in my estimation. Today, I was thinking that I'm looking like Humpty Dumpty, with an egg shape sitting on legs. I can't even see where I'm losing any weight anymore.

To this end, I find myself looking to the scale for affirmation (though not acting on the impulse most of the time) that progress is being made. I'm not looking at it to validate me, but rather to verify that things are going as they should. While I firmly subscribe to the idea that actions are the true measure of success as they naturally breed success, I'd be trying to fool myself (and everyone else) if I tried to say that the results weren't what I really want. After all, without visible weight loss and changes in appearance, I will never escape the prejudice and abuse that I receive for being fat, and that is a strong motivator for me. It is second only to health improvement in my reasons for losing weight.

The truth is that I knew the day when I'd have to start actually weighing myself regularly would come. Somewhere in a past post, I mentioned that I expected that when I got under 250 lbs., I may have to resort to the scale to ensure my continued progress because I figured a slowdown would occur at a certain point. That is, I knew that my basal metabolic rate (BMR) would start to drop such that I would have to continually tweak my behaviors to make sure my weight loss pace continued as I want it to. Mainly, I need to know when the slowdown occurs so I can add activity in or reduce calories a little more.

To give some idea of what I mean in a more concrete manner, at my starting weight of around 380 lbs., my BMR was about 2400 calories. My BMR at 300 lbs. was around 2050 calories per day. At my current weight of 240 lbs., it is now about 1790. When I reach 200, it will further drop to about 1600 calories. While I don't expect to keep at my current loss rate of between 2 and 2.5 lbs. per week, my plan was to lose an average of a pound a week after I reach 200 provided that I have a year ahead of me before making a big change in my life (which requires me to find a new job) to accomplish it. If I don't reach 200 with a year in front of me to lose the last 50 lbs., I'll have to make further changes to speed things up a bit.

All of those silly calculations aside, I'm finding that my inability to tell that I'm actually losing weight anymore is factoring into this as well. I try to derive as much gratification as possible from the success that comes from carrying out the day in a manner which is conducive to my goals, but that can't be all of it. Even I have to have some external indicators that progress that is physical and not psychological is going on. Much as I try hard not to focus on it excessively, I do need at least a little bit of it.

My situation is not helped by the fact that I have bought exactly two new pieces of clothing (two bras) since the start of all of this so I can't really see a different body easily. I'm throwing out the oldest, biggest things which are too absurd-looking to wear now, and altering the (formerly) tightest ones to be smaller as well as borrowing T-shirts from my husband's wardrobe to tide me over. I still refuse to spend money on clothes that are of an interim size.

I've decided that at this stage, I will rather reluctantly start regular weighing once a month. I've decided to start as of October 1 with this and see how it goes. If the number starts to have any sort of emotional impact on me though, that idea is going right out the window. I will not get on the scale roller coaster ride and allow it to manipulate my emotions. That being said, I do need some sort of measurement (and frankly, I'm too lazy to dig out a tape measure and do it the other way) to "prove" that progress is being made since the non-scale victories have become rather difficult to see now that I've realized that I have a form of body image blindness.

Dem Bones

Several nights ago, I was lying in bed and placed my hand on the upper abdominal area. I didn't think about what I was doing, but I was shocked to find that I could feel the entire lower ridge of my rib cage. It has been a very long time since I could feel these bones from any position. I will hasten to add that I'm still very fat and it's only my disproportionate upper body loss and the prone position I was in that allowed me to feel my ribs at this time and weight.

There are many women who are losing weight who are absolutely thrilled when they discover their bones emerging under their skin. Some of them have an almost pornographic fascination with fondling their newly palpable collar and pelvic bone ridges. More of my bone structure is starting to emerge and it's pretty much something I'm indifferent to. In fact, my tailbone is actually causing me difficulty because it's becoming more uncomfortable to sit as the padding on my posterior thins, so this whole bone thing isn't exactly part of the scenic wonder I enjoy on what many people refer to as the "weight loss journey".

Seeing and feeling my bones isn't something about weight loss that I have found particularly meaningful, but suddenly discovering that I could feel my rib cage had a strange emotional impact on me, and it wasn't a good one. I had a strong feeling of vulnerability and exposure. It was probably more shocking to discover my rib cage area because this is where my heart and lungs are located, and the sense that they were so much nearer to the surface made me feel uncomfortable, as if they would now be easier to reach and harm.

A lot of people reject the psychological notion that people gain weight as a physical or emotional shield. The reason they feel that way is that it seems too abstract. After all, being fat doesn't really protect you from being hurt. Several nights ago, I had an experience which was profound and palpable which told me that weight very much can feel like added protection from harm. That doesn't mean that I'm going to stop trying to reduce my weight, but I think there is value in being aware of what I'm losing along with layers of padding. I'm losing something that made me feel protected and secure on some level, and I'm going to have to find a way to compensate for that loss. If I don't face this aspect, I'll be more inclined to regain weight in the future.

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As an aside, this sudden ability to feel my rib cage inspired me to weigh myself prematurely. I weighed myself last 16 days before this incident and weighed 260 lbs. I thought that this change was odd and sudden, but my weight was 255 at the time of this incident so there actually was no sudden drop precipitating the ability to feel my rib cage.

I note this in part because I feel grateful that my weight loss is so relatively steady, linear, and has gone "as expected". That is, I continue to lose about 2 lbs. a week, which is pretty much what my goal is until I approach 200 lbs. (at which point, I expect it to drop closer to 1 lb. per week). I'm grateful that my body has been so cooperative, especially when I read so frequently that others have far less fortune.

Progress Report and Another Number

It was approximately a year ago today that I decided to lose weight. It was when I started scaling portions, not when I started counting calories. Around mid-June of last year is the anniversary of a decision and the start of a process (detailed on the right as "my plan") which ended up landing me where I am today both in terms of lifestyle habits and weight loss.

The plan evolved naturally. I never set out to do what I have done in terms of the details that I've written about. I just took it day by day and week by week and pushed the boundaries of what I could manage as time went by. I think it ended up being a good plan, though perhaps only a good one for me and me alone.

Because the anniversary of that decision was around a year ago, I weighed myself again for the 4th time total in one year. I didn't weigh myself at the beginning because I was afraid that the daunting nature of what I was to face would be reflected in that scarily high number. Besides, my scale only goes up to 330 lbs. and I knew it wasn't going to be able to give me a reading. I'm pretty sure I weighed between 360 and 380, almost certainly closer to the big number than the smaller one. Today I weighed almost exactly 260 lbs. That represents weight loss commensurate with my rough goals to lose about 2 lbs. a week. I'm pretty sure I've lost about 120 lbs in this first year.

I haven't had as easy a time tracking my progress via NSVs (non-scale victories) lately because the changes are less profound as time goes by regardless of actual weight loss numbers. When you start out unable to walk without excruciating pain for even 5 minutes, being able to walk for a half hour without pain is profound. Now, I can walk for an hour without back pain, but it doesn't feel much more significant than doing so for 45 minutes. I focus on NSVs over lbs. lost most of the time because I think these are meaningful measures of improved quality of life rather than arbitrary, objective measures which really have no bearing on the positive outcome of weight loss.

Here are the things I've noticed:

• The venerable office chair with arms which I had to squeeze myself into a year ago and which I could not even use the armrests on because my arms were perched on top of my middle spare tire, now is a comfortable fit. I can use all of the armrests and I can fit one of my arms between me and the armrests. That means I not only don't have to squeeze in, but have room to spare.
• A yellow nightgown that I used to squeeze in and stretch to wear at my highest weight now hangs loosely from me (especially around my chest) and is now long enough that my behind and belly aren't constantly threatening to peak out when I wear it. It is currently the only nightgown I have which comes close to fitting properly. My old ones are always falling off my shoulders like Greek or Roman gowns. 
• My sandals became too big. I had to tighten the straps on them to the smallest size (two more holes tighter) because they were threatening to fly off my feet with every step.
• Some T-shirts that my husband bought for me about a decade ago but were too tight to comfortably wear now fit or are loose. One of these shirts, the smallest of the bunch, is the only shirt I currently own which properly "fits" me.
• I ruminate on food less than when I started this and I get hungry less often than before, though I still have days in which I may eat up to a maintenance number of calories when I'm stressed or have strong cravings. I haven't binged and overeaten in quite some time. I have some confidence that I can do this "forever" and still maintain a healthy weight even incorporating days when I eat more due to stress or other problems since I don't go over 2000 calories even with stress eating. My mental relationship with food is starting to "normalize" in that I don't fantasize about it, think about it or obsess over it as much while still being aware of portions and calories. It is far from "normal", but it is much better than it was in every respect.
• I can nearly, but not quite, squeeze into a size 38C bra that I have. My breasts are way too big for the C cup, but the width of my chest is pretty close. If I were to guess my actual bra size right now, I'd say it's close to or at a 40D. Currently, I'm still making do with 44D bras, but they continue to loosen up. 

At this point in time, I'm mainly interested in the psychology of the process rather than the processes which actually lead to losing pounds. I feel I have a solid grasp of what I have to do and a slightly shakier grasp of carrying out those processes everyday, though likely no more or less shaky than the "average" person who sometimes eats more than they should or things they should not. At this point in time, a "binge" for me tends to mean one cookie or one piece of chocolate more than I can eat on my plan. It never means a whole bag of something or a huge volume of food.

My concerns right now are identity building. I'm focusing my days and my time on pursuing interests which are unrelated to weight or weight loss. Mainly, I'm actively thinking about who I am now and who I want to be and divorcing myself of the concept of being the disgusting fat person. This is a slow process which mainly includes active pursuit of my interests and work (sometimes pushing myself to preoccupy myself with them even when I don't feel like doing so as a means of stopping my mind from wandering back to consuming food as a fill in habit) as well as having the occasional "conversation" with myself about who I really am and what needs to be done to pave the road to being who I want to be.

I am careful at this stage not to define myself in any way related to food or exercise. I am not the person who eats healthily. I am not the person who can control her food intake. I am not the person who exercises regularly or lifts weights. I am a person who does those things, but they are not me and I do not ruminate on them or pay undue attention to them. They get as much attention as they require. They are like washing dishes or doing laundry, things I do because they need to be done, but they do not define me in any way. I am not my beauty or appearance. I am not my clothing size. I don't even know my clothing size, and I do not care.

I am defined by my intellect, my ability and practice of writing, my job, my ability to be frugal and live a modest lifestyle, my emotional control, my love for my husband and those around me, and my compassion and insight. I am my humor and my rapport with my friends and coworkers. I am even a person who likes to cook and prepare interesting meals because that actually has nothing to do with weight. I am my conversational ability and my pursuit of psychology and science. I am a reader and a person who likes goofy old television shows and melodramatic old movies. And, I'm more than that.

I'm laying this all out here both to demonstrate what the process means and to remember what I'm endeavoring to do. I think that there was a person I was who got lost as I became more and more miserable because of my weight and the responses it elicited from others. I need to reconnect with what I lost and fill in the empty places with a positive identity. I think that is the important part to focus on at this time as I continue to make my way through this process. I want to come out whole on the other side, not defined by my body or ability to control my food and exercise.

Another Number

Today, I caught a glimpse of my naked body reflected in a surface in our home, and I felt terribly discouraged. My lower body just looks so terrible despite all of the progress that I've made. My belly and behind are huge, and it seems like 90% of the weight I need to lose from this point on is concentrated in those areas.

I can't say that I felt "discouraged" because I had no thought of stopping what I'm doing and going back to the way I was. I think a better term would be "disheartened" or "disappointed" not to see more progress in my overall appearance. Mind you, this feeling isn't steeped in any desire to look good in general. It's mainly based on not wanting some parts of my body to look so massive that I continue to be gawked at and abused by strangers who feel it is their business to judge my body. If my weight loss had been more even, I think that I'd feel less self-conscious and attract a little less unwanted attention.

Because of this sense, I decided to weigh myself again, though I had planned not to get back on the scale until June. I think I had to gain some sense that progress was being made since it's hard these days for me to find it in other ways, and I guess I was seeking some reassurance that I was indeed still shrinking. I'm not so sure this was the best idea, but I can say that the results didn't trouble me. The scale was more inconsistent than usual and the numbers vacillated between 273-277. Last time I weighed myself, the number was 284 (on March 10), so this is not a bad result considering that I believe my period might be coming on in the near future and you never know where you are in the scheme of your body's rhythms. Also, I weighed myself early in the morning this time, and I did it late in the afternoon before. I tend to retain water and get swollen overnight (and I drink water through the night to moisten my mouth because I have allergies and get congested and can't breath through my nose). I'm sure some of this number is that water.

At any rate, the numbers didn't have too great an impact on me emotionally, though they provided some small reassurance that progress is being made even if I can't detect it visually at the moment. I'm starting to wonder if, because I don't buy new clothes or measure myself (too depressing and troublesome), I may have to start weighing myself once a month for progress checks because it's becoming more difficult to gauge my losses by so-called NSVs (non-scale victories). There is less of a contrast between "baggy" and "super baggy" clothes than "tight" and "loose". Right now, the greatest indicator of an NSV is the arms on my husbands office chair and the degree to which I fit into that chair.

I'm still wary of the potential emotional outcome of regular weigh-ins, but it's something I'll have to ponder at this stage if I don't want to go buying new clothes, measure myself, or find some other way of reassuring myself that progress is being made. Certainly I cannot trust that a visual appraisal of my bloated, sagging body is going to work. :-p Nonetheless, even a monthly weighing is something I will be wary of if in any way it creates an emotional issue.

(More Thoughts) On Weighing Oneself

One of the blogs I follow is justjuliebean's "Smoke Yourself Thin". Her approach is quite different than my current one, but not too dissimilar from the successful approach I took during my college days. You can read her blog to find out the details, but the general approach is to eat healthily, avoid overtly unhealthy treats, and to exercise with regularity and diligence. She doesn't count calories, as I did not when I was in college.

One point on which we differ is about weighing ourselves. I don't weigh myself now, and I actually did not back in college either. My sense is that weighing yourself, particularly everyday, carries a strong risk of placing yourself emotionally at the mercy of the scale. That being said, I realize that such a concern is not shared by all. Some people, like justjuliebean, are not emotionally enslaved to the read-out on their scales. It helps them feel in touch with their weight and remain aware and accountable.

Recently, after reading one of justjuliebeans recent posts, I realized one of the reasons why I don't feel I need to weigh myself and perhaps she and others do. I didn't reach this conclusion due to anything she said overtly, but mainly in her summary of her expected path for the immediate future. I don't need to weigh myself because I count calories. Counting calories is not too dissimilar from weighing oneself in that it provides concrete feedback. I have the utmost confidence that my behavior will yield results because I know precisely what my behavior is. If I weren't counting calories, I'd probably desire more concrete feedback about whether or not my actions were having the desired effect.

To me, this is an interesting situation because I think different approaches work for different people, and I'm always curious about why and how various features of a particular weight loss/lifestyle plan appeal to people based on their characters. I think calorie counting tends to be the equivalent of baking a cake and using precise measurements every time to yield exactly the same result and general lifestyle changes and exercise are more of a "toss it all together and hope it all turns out as you hope" style of preparing a cake. One approach almost guarantees the same result every time. The other approach is more creative, but may actually yield a more brilliant result or may simply be a more satisfying approach. In the latter approach, not weighing yourself is a bit like making the cake and never tasting it to see if what you did worked well.

Of course, many people both count calories and weigh themselves, and many of them drive themselves crazy with the scales ups and downs. In the end, I'm guessing it's all about control and whether or not you place it inside of yourself (which I believe I do and people like justjuliebean does) or outside of yourself (as people who compulsively weigh themselves and ride an emotional roller coaster based on scale results are doing).

Losing at a "healthy" rate

I read a news article late last year about a woman in England who went on an extreme diet that allowed her something like 500-600 calories per day. The diet was overseen by a doctor, and included some sort of nutritional supplements that were supposed to ensure that she got enough nutrients during rapid weight loss. The incentive for her desire to lose a lot of weight fast was a wedding, unsurprisingly. Weddings seem to be the biggest push for many women to shed weight rapidly.

Since this woman weighed quite a lot, perhaps in the 300 lb. range, she dropped about 60 lbs. or so rapidly. One day, she decided to actually eat, and she ate quite a lot relative to her highly-restricted diet, though nothing ridiculous. She may have consumed something on the order of 3500 calories at most, possibly as little as 2000 calories. The number of calories she ate is unknown because there’s no concrete report of exactly what and how much she ate because, you see, she dropped dead.

Everyone who wants to lose weight wants to lose it fast, but weight loss is a tremendous strain on your body including your heart. Your heart is a muscle, and shrinks during rapid weight loss. That means it is in a weakened state. This woman who lost so much weight under a doctors care died from heart failure because the consumption of a larger number of calories so stressed her body that her heart couldn’t deal with it.

My husband and I have talked about my weight loss and he’s pleased that I’m losing weight, but he always cautions me when I say I wish it were going faster. He has said that he believes that a more rapid loss would be unhealthy, and that a slow steady loss (around 1-2 lbs. per week) is better not only in the long run, but also in the short run for my immediate health. The news story that I read last year, while somewhat extreme, provides a good lesson in why that is so. Yes, I’m impatient to feel better about myself, stronger, and healthier, but I’d rather get there with a strong heart and a body that has burned fat to reach my goal rather than a weak heart and a body that has consumed muscle and released fluid-based pounds.

To this end, I decided to go against my assertion about not weighing myself again for a long time to see what my one-month progress tended to look like. As before, I thought very carefully before I dragged out that scale and considered what the numbers would mean to me. In particular, I was considering the effect of it not changing as much as I might hope or more than I might expect. I wasn’t going to do it if I believed the number would have an appreciable effect on my plan. In the end, I decided that I could be sanguine about it and that the value of knowing my progress after one month, something which I have never looked at before, was greater than any potential emotional consequences.

The number was 284, which is 11 lbs. lighter than when I last weighed myself on February 12. This number was not surprising and my emotional response to it was what it was last time. That is, a small amount of satisfaction. It’s really about where I expected to be in terms of monthly loss (which I hope to be around 10 lbs. per month at my present weight and possibly lasting to the 250 lb. range, at which point I expect a slow-down) and where I thought I was in terms of my losses since I started this last year (about 100 lbs. lost by now). This is a range that falls in line with what I feel to be healthy, so I’m pretty happy with it.

A Number

I'm not sure precisely why, but I dug out the scale today and decided to weigh myself. It has been under the bed for a very long time, unused by both my husband and me. It was so dusty that a felt-like layer of dust obscured the entire surface of it. I couldn't tell if it was face-up or face-down under the bed or distinguish which side was totally dusted over until I cleaned it up.

Before I did it, I carefully considered the implications of whatever numbers came up and what sort of behavior or feelings this might set off. First of all, I had no expectations in regards to the numbers coming up low. In fact, since I don't know where I started (but am guessing I started somewhere between 350 and 400 lbs., with a likely number of around 380), I can't view it as an indication of how much I've lost. It's more about bookmarking where I am now and pondering how much further I have to go.

I explored the potential emotional impact of various outcomes. The scale tops out at 330 lbs. If I was heavier than the scale could measure, would I be sanguine about it? If I was lighter, would I be elated? Honestly, the only tiny hope I had was that I would be able to get a reading on the scale, but if I was heavier, so be it. I could live with the truth. And I didn't expect to be excited by whatever the number was going to be even if it was lower than hoped for.

I decided that I was going to put it right back under the bed after I was done, and that I was not going to weigh myself again for a very long time no matter what the numbers said. I still staunchly feel that it is a demotivating factor to track those numbers. I don't need the emotional roller coaster of feeling that I'm failing or succeeding based on something so arbitrary.

The number was 295. My response was very, very mild satisfaction. I had a small hope (as in not much emotion riding on it, not a low expectation) to be under 300 lbs., but I hadn't necessarily expected to be so. I also hadn't expected to be much lighter than that. I can see myself and I know I'm still very heavy. That being said, this confirms my speculation about various numbers based on observations. I'm right about where I thought I'd be. It also confirms that I was a lot closer to 400 lbs. when I started than I realized initially. I'm certain I've lost 80 lbs. by now, possibly a bit more.

Mainly, this provides me with a benchmark for the future. It also improves my sense that I will make my goal (150 lbs.) by my deadline of 2012. I have nearly two years to lose the next 145 lbs. Considering my progress thus far, and inevitable slow-down as I draw closer to the goal, I think things are going according to plan.

Saturday: September 24, 2009 (late posting)

Lately, Saturdays have been so packed with work and extra household activity that I can't find a moment to clear my head and blog. Fortunately, last Saturday was easily successful due to having a vegetarian day and judicious allocation of calories. I finished the day at 1405 thanks to a yogurt parfait for breakfast (yogurt layered with tiny amounts of honey and half a banana), hummus for lunch, a banana smoothie, and a chef's salad for dinner. The snack was cheese and pretzels in carefully controlled portions.

That being said, I'm starting to grow impatient with my "watch my body" change progress checking. Part of the problem with it is that progress can only be measured in noticeable hops and there are stretches of time when I note no progress. When the time comes and I suddenly note some difference (like I'm swimming in my shirts), it's very gratifying, but there are weeks when I think I should try out the scale. That being said, I'm still worried that seeing real numbers may have a more harmful effect than beneficial one. The bottom line is not knowing how far I have to go or how far I've gone tends to be more encouraging than discouraging.

Weighing Myself

You'd think that the first step for someone who has decided to lose weight would be to weigh herself. The truth is that I never weigh myself when I'm making the effort to change my lifestyle. You might think this has to do with the grim facts staring me in the face. After all, there is little more disheartening than being fat and seeing an indicator on a scale showing you with perfect clarity just how fat you are.

My reluctance is rooted in a desire not to be discouraged. One of the problems with scales is that they are almost too accurate an indicator of your weight. They can encourage, certainly, but they also discourage. If you are very overweight, they can be particularly disheartening because all of your efforts may result in such a small increment lost that you decide the sacrifice seems hardly worth it. What is worse, normal weight fluctuations due to water retention, bowel movement patterns, and simply weeks when your body is being stubborn about changing your condition can show that you may have gained or made no progress at all. You can't trust the scale to give you accurate feedback.

Rather than trust my progress to the scale, I trust it to my body and my clothes. I look at my body, especially my arms, and see if they are changing shape and size. Since you lose weight in your limbs first, this is where you can see it. Also, the hang of my clothes has been changing. Pants and dresses actually get longer as well as looser. That's because the flesh that used to prop them up has shrunk.

If you know your body's weight gain and loss patterns, you can also look at the areas which gain weight last and lose first for changes. For me, that is my mid-section. When my weight is lower, I have a pretty small waist to hip ratio so my breasts will seem bigger and my hips' curvature more pronounced as my waist shrinks. For the record, this is a pretty desirable way to lose weight for women, but it's not something that I can claim any effort in accomplishing. The potential for an hourglass figure with a bigger bottom is simply part of my genetic code. At any rate, I know where to look to see where things are changing.

I don't know if my method is one I'd recommend for just anyone since it took 2 weeks to see the earliest results in my arms and two months to see it in my waist, but it is rewarding. I find it a more satisfying way than fretting daily over the scale. At my current size, it's also less disheartening because I don't know just how far I have to go until I reach my goal weight. Perhaps knowing where I have started will just make me despair at how far I have to go. When I get closer to the end (something I expect to take more than a year, possibly as long as two), I'll probably start checking my weight on a scale because progress will be harder to see through clothes or visual inspection.