Refuse To Regain

Purely Observation

By Barbara Berkeley

If you’re a reader of these pages, you know that I like to write about science. Where weight issues are concerned, we tend to rely too much on claims of uncertain validity. Just because we’ve heard weight loss “rules” over and over doesn’t make them true. That’s where research comes in. A good research study can confirm or disprove a hypothesis and that helps. If a body of evidence shows that something we believed to be true is actually false, it’s time to move away from that belief.

But I’ve also written about the difficulty of doing good research where overweight and obesity are concerned. The best research is simple and controls all variables. Think 8th Grade Science Fair. A student wants to find out which commercial fertilizer makes a bean plant grow best. She starts ten plants, each from exactly the same kind of seed. She puts each one in the same container. She gives each the same amount of water and exposes it to exactly the same sunlight. The only thing she changes is the type of fertilizer she adds. In this experiment, everything is controlled except the element that is being studied. If one plant grows 5 inches taller than the others, you can be pretty sure you know why.

Imagine, though, the impossibility of making accurate studies about weight. Let’s take a simple example. Say you want to know if the Mediterranean Diet makes people leaner in the long run. You pick a group of people to study. You train them in the elements of the Mediterranean Diet. You ask them to follow that diet for six months and keep food records. You devise a control group that will eat as they always do so that you can compare the two. But problems immediately arise. Each person in the study is different and some may have medical conditions that affect their weight. Some of the people don’t show up for training. Others forget to submit food records. Of the people who do bring records, you can’t be at all sure if they are truly eating what they write down. You notice a few people are losing weight, but some of them have started exercising because they are inspired by being in a study. Is their weight loss related to diet or to more moving around? Two subjects develop the flu during the study period and lose five pounds each. How does that factor into your results? In other words, the variables are endless and impossible to control.

Despite these difficulties, research remains important. But it is equally important to look at studies critically and try to determine if they were done well. I am not an expert on this, but when I look at studies, I give it a shot. This is one of the reasons that we shouldn’t jump on every research study that is announced in the media. They aren’t all good. They aren’t all valid.

Dr Walter Willett of the Harvard School of Public Health has written eloquently about interpreting studies. He reminds us that one study result does not make a truth. One study will usually spawn others which contradict its conclusions. Only when a mounting weight of evidence accumulates on one side can we say that the conclusion is likely true.

It is precisely because studies of overweight are so difficult, that common sense and observation become so vital. So let me use the rest of this post to talk about the behaviors that I observe most commonly in the successful maintainers I know. Recently, a maintainer wrote me about a book she had just read. The book pointed to many studies which showed that the biological deck was stacked against maintainers. “The conclusion one might draw,” she wrote, “is there is simply no way other than sheer, knuckle-gripping discipline to maintain a weight loss – that fat people are simply wired to be fat and nothing can stop that.” Studies may suggest this, but in fact, it has not been my observation.

What is missing from that final sentence makes all the difference. Fat people are simply wired to be fat indeed…WHEN CONSUMING THE MODERN WESTERN DIET. The major observation I have made about the maintainers I treat and that I’ve met is that they are actually NOT hanging on by their fingernails. While they carefully monitor the type and amount of food they eat, they probably wouldn’t describe themselves as tortured. And they are NOT inevitably regaining their weight. The major observation I have made about unsuccessful maintainers is that they ARE hanging on with white knuckles and that is because they are still attempting to eat some modified form of the modern western diet.

We are overweight in America and in increasing numbers all over the world because our entire concept of diet is so reckless and unexamined. It’s impossible to completely figure out what part of the western diet is so toxic. It’s probably a whole lot of things. As a result, the maintainers I know have all seemed to come to a similar conclusion. They have junked the whole SAD and have started at square one: primary foods (foods as they come direct from nature). They have built up from there, figuring out what each might be able to add or tolerate. Anything goes, as long as it works for that person, but most people seem to find that they can’t tolerate many excursions into the SAD world.

In my book, I suggest that new maintainers put themselves on a 3-month OptOut. This means that they almost completely abstain from SAD (Standard American Diet) foods during this period and play with the idea of eating anciently. “Play” is the operative word. It should be interesting, scientific, and fun. An OptOut isn’t the only way to go, but it gives you the idea. Each maintainer I know has a definite framework for how he or she eats. It’s a kind of eating constitution that is specific to each one. Each of us has made a commitment to this constitution and is proud of it. It’s not a matter of white knuckles when you’re defending the territory you love.

So even though I will continue to write about science I want you to take all research conclusions with a healthy grain of salt. Where weight maintenance is concerned, you can learn more from observing those who have been successful than from all the scientific studies in the world. There is a wealth of information residing right here, in the lives of Lynn and the many other maintainers who read this blog. Feel free to pose questions and we’ll post them to the community.

Wanted: Outlaw Foods

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

I recently asked my Lynn’s Weigh readers on Facebook this question: When you make a day trip, do you figure you’ll find food along the way or do you pack your own?

Most responded that they do. One person said she doesn’t want any food to be “bad” food and so eats what’s available in smaller portions.

I wanted to pose the same question to maintainers and to ask how have your food choices changed, if at all, since you started losing weight?

My food choices continue to evolve. Five years ago when I joined Weight Watchers, there were only a few outlaw foods on my list (i.e. baked Doritos and Teddy Grahams), namely because if I had one bite, I’d want 50 more.

Moving along in my weight journey, more foods were added to my outlaw list, and not always because I feared lack of self control. Some foods I lost a taste for and some were outlawed because they weren’t very healthy. I started paying close attention to what was in certain foods and slowly moved down the path of “real” food – those with only few ingredients.

I also began eating out less frequently, mostly because I live in a very small town and find that most local restaurant fare is either salted, sauced or boiled to death. Sometimes all three. There are a few restaurants I can count on for real greens in their salads, but I’ve yet to find a place that offers any vegetarian fare that doesn’t involve pasta or copious amounts of cheese.

Usually when I travel by car, I don’t count on there being a sufficient choice of non-outlaw foods along the way, so I pack a cooler of salad fixings, fresh fruit and other Lynn Approved foods.

Another part to this metamorphosis is that the older I get, the more sensitive I am to certain foods. I love Brussels sprouts, broccoli and cauliflower, but they aren’t as easy to digest as they used to be. I don’t have the abs of a 20-year-old and apparently I don’t have the gut of one, either! They aren’t on my outlaw food list, but I’ve added Culturelle to my diet to help out.

What I love about this topic of how, in maintenance, we choose to eat is that our answers really shine a light on how individual we are in what works for us. While I completely respect my reader’s view that for her no food is “bad” food, I’d be willing to bet that if I asked the same question a year from now that at least a few of you might have different answers than the ones you give today.

So write to us! Tell us if you have outlaw foods and if you pack or trust there will be something you’re willing to eat when you travel. Leave us a comment or send us an email at refusetoregain@gmail.com.

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No Winter Maintenance: Travel At Your Own Risk

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

Some of you know from my post, “Four Little Words: A SAD Remedy,” at Lynn’s Weigh that I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder and that this year’s been killer.

Winter weight maintenance is more difficult with SAD. While my food intake is relatively stable (except for the worse than usual carb cravings), there are days you can’t pay me to exercise. Yesterday, for instance, after one – just one! – set of four back strengthening exercises, I quit. And nothing – no meditating, coaxing, promise of reward – was getting me on that elliptical, either. I just didn’t have the mental mettle.

Within this deep emotional hollow, I could do little more than stare at my computer and come up with excuses not to go to the birthday dinner Larry and I were invited to that evening. I knew I’d feel worse if I didn’t go, but you know how you get so emotionally drained with depression that you don’t know what the hell to think? For hours I vacillated between “You promised to be there! You can’t let your friends down!” and “How can you fake happy for three or four hours? You’ll be the most dismal person there!”

I had a hair appointment at 3:00. Cut and color, the anticipation of which usually perks me up. Instead, I hemmed and hawed until finally at 2:30 I washed my face, brushed my teeth and put on normal clothes (I was still sitting around in my under-utilized workout clothes). After throwing on some extra moisturizer (the cold is brutal on the skin, isn’t it?), that little voice in the back of my head said, “Put on some makeup. You’ll feel better and you’ll be glad you did.” Ugh. I can never seem to shut that thing up. But I put on makeup and I went to my appointment. Two hours later, I felt a little less sad and a little more capable of being a sociable human being and one who wouldn’t plunge head first into wine and birthday cake.

The party, like most anticipations, wasn’t as difficult as I imagined. In fact, it was a lot of fun. I reconnected with old friends and I met a new one – a woman who is maintaining a 25-pound weight loss! Thing is, we didn’t talk about weight. We talked about SAD, among other things. She – as well as our hosts – understood SAD. They deal with it every year. My new friend told me about a passage from “The Book of Disquiet” by Portuguese poet Fernando Pessao, a quote she said doesn’t evoke who she is, but resonates with her. That’s what SAD is: not who we are, but merely a part of our experience.

No winter maintenance. I’m determined to not let this be my mantra.

The sun was out today – a rare occurrence in winter in western Pennsylvania. It was 36 degrees, and after a full workout, I went hiking with my husband in one of the most peaceful places I know, Cook Forest. The hemlocks, the running water of Tom's Run, along with the air and sun cleared my head, and another day of SAD was laid to rest.

I’ll leave you with Pessao’s quote. Like my friend, it doesn’t define me, but it explains a part of me.

“The mere thought of having to enter into contact with someone else makes me nervous. A simple invitation to have dinner with a friend produces an anguish in me that’s hard to define. The idea of any social obligation whatsoever – attending a funeral, dealing with someone about an office matter, going to the station to wait for someone I know or don’t know – the very idea disturbs my thoughts for an entire day, and sometimes I even start worrying the night before, so that I sleep badly. When it takes place, the dreaded encounter is utterly insignificant, justifying none of my anxiety, but the next time is no different: I never learn to learn.”

Overweight Top Doc: Yes or No

By Barbara Berkeley

Well, what say we start off the New Year with a really contentious topic? Is it OK to have a surgeon general who is overweight?

President Obama recently named a new top doc, Dr. Regina Benjamin. Dr. Benjamin is an obviously dedicated, talented family practitioner who has been a voice for the underserved population in her home state of Alabama. She has provided an enormous amount of free care and has been a staunch advocate for her patients. Furthermore, she focuses on preventable illness. For more on her background, click here.

But Dr. Benjamin, who is 52, is overweight. By her own admission, multiple members of her family have died from preventable illness including HIV, lung cancer, diabetes and hypertension. The New York Times’ Well Blog recently solicited comments about Dr. Benjamin’s weight as it relates to her status as chief physician.

I found the comments to be both fascinating and instructive. I didn’t agree with most of them and I wondered what your take might be. We have a unique population on this website so I am very interested about your opinion. In case you don’t feel like scanning all the comments, they fell into a couple of broad categories:

1. How dare we use weight to judge someone’s fitness for a job.
2. Criticisms about weight would never be leveled at a man.
3. Dr. Benjamin is preferable to someone who looks like a bikini model. She can understand what we’re going through.
4. Dr. Benjamin’s weight “enhances her credibility.”

You will read my comment below, but before you do, I would like to add that I doubt that male wellness advocates like Dr. Oz would be taken very seriously if they were overweight. I do believe that he would be looked at critically if that were the case, just as Dr. Phil was when he suggested he was an expert in weight loss.

Here was my response to the Times:

“It’s hard to address this without sounding petty, but this issue is not as simple as it might seem.

"Obesity and the costs generated by its related medical conditions are the crux of our current national struggle with health. As we go into the future, the battle with obesity is certain to intensify. Johns Hopkins University, for example, has predicted that 86% of Americans will be overweight by the year 2030. Our health care system cannot survive the onslaught of diabetes, hypertension, cancer, heart disease and the like which will be generated by such figures.

"While it may be comforting for people to see a physician who looks like other Americans, Dr. Benjamin’s weight suggests that she herself has not found a good answer to the obesity dilemma. At this particular moment, we need someone who can be inspiring on this issue. We need a leader who doesn’t just struggle with the problem, but who has figured it out.

"Many of the comments above proclaim that size is predetermined. It is not. Our size comes from the interaction of a genetic predisposition with an unhealthy food environment. There are thousands of people who have been able to work this equation out, have lost weight, and have kept it off. A doctor who has made such a change and has been able to sustain it would have been the perfect candidate for surgeon general at this particular time. Over the years, scores of patients in my weight loss practice have complained that they have been unable to seriously consider lifestyle advice from doctors who smoke or are overweight themselves. While commenters above suggest that they can be more open, real life experience tells me that Dr.

"Benjamin’s solutions for weight loss will be a hard sell. At this critical juncture – and as far as obesity is concerned – we need an inspiring medical leader, not necessarily an understanding friend who looks like we do.

"I was also troubled by something Dr. Benjamin said in the appended video. When asked what she would do to curtail smoking, she spoke of getting individuals to quit. She was then pressed as to whether she would take on the tobacco folks. Here she backed off, leaving most of the responsibility for control to smokers themselves. I hope that this does not foreshadow her approach toward obesity. We have put far too much responsiblity and blame on those who are overweight and have done far, far too little to control the overstimulatory environment and uncontrolled food production which is causing the problem."

I’m curious as to what you think. Feel free to let me have it if you disagree.

Emotional Transformation and The Skinny Girl

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

In her last blog (Transformational Thriller), Barbara wrote about the physical transformation from obese to thin and how thrilling it is to be “noticed” and in essence rewarded by the accolades of others (and ourselves) for the ways in which our bodies have changed. For some, there is a subsequent let down when people get used to seeing us as we now are, and therefore their comments end and we’re left wondering, What’s next?

I enjoyed the compliments for the most part as I was losing weight, but I admit I was pretty happy when the hubbub died down and I could be just Lynn again and not That-Woman-Who-Lost-All-That-Weight. What has the potential to trip me up once in awhile is not so much the physical transformation as the emotional transformation. I’ve said many times since reaching goal that I finally feel like the outside me and the inside me finally match, but the longer I maintain, the more I think that descriptor may be a bit premature. In many ways, my inside is still catching up.

The emotional transformation from obese me to maintaining me is perhaps even more astounding than the physical transformation. It’s just not as apparent. The transformation began the moment weight loss “clicked” five years ago. Most people who successfully lose AND maintain their weight had an “aha!” moment – that realization that things are different “this time” as opposed to all the other times they tried to lose weight and failed. For me, that moment was followed by an avalanche of changes, not just in the way I ate – that was the easy part – but in the way I related to food and, even more important, how I related to myself. I began to demand from myself respect, forgiveness, and understanding – three things I rarely asked of myself or others. I often hid in my fat or other emotional insecurities and believed I didn’t deserve to be treated fairly.

Physical transformation is, for the most part, finite. We can sculpt our bodies through weight training and surgery, but if we remain the same weight, we pretty much look the same. Emotional transformation is infinite, an evolutionary journey.

I know many of you don’t like the word “lifestyle” to describe the way we live life as maintainers. But lifestyle is a choice, and I choose maintenance as a way of life, just as I choose to be a writer and I chose to become a mother. It’s living within this choice where the emotional transformation evolves, and that has had the biggest impact on my relationship with myself and with other people.

Because I no longer put myself or my needs last, my relationship with my husband has improved – not because I’m thin, but because I am more confident, which in turn has made me a better partner. My relationship with my children is stronger because I’m a better communicator. Sure, Passive-Aggressive Lynn comes out now and then, but like I said, this is an evolutionary process.

Where I see this process jammed up a bit is in my relationship to people I’m not related to. For instance, life before 300 pounds, I was the queen of parties. Threw them, went to them, loved them. Not surprisingly, I became somewhat of a hermit when I got to the top of the scale. What is surprising, to me at least, is that I’m still a hermit. This is the thing I meditate on the most, the part of my emotional transformation that has me the most confused right now.

Is it because I really don’t like large gatherings that I don’t go out much, or is it because I’m tired of defending my “lifestyle” and prefer the company of like-minded people? More times than I can remember I’ve been at a party or out to dinner and have heard, “What’s one meal? Eat!” (Heck, I even get that from strangers on my blog!) To me that’s like telling an alcoholic, “What’s one drink?” or an ex-smoker, “What’s one cigarette?” What most non-maintainers don’t get is that one meal of food I no longer choose to eat would not only cause me great gastrointestinal distress, but it would take me a good week or two to get it off the scale. Say that to food pushers and I’m suddenly Debbie Downer. I’ve tried the “I don’t care what you eat. Why do you care what I eat?” approach, but that usually doesn’t work, either.

Food is perhaps not a good example. Emotional transformation is an attitude that goes way beyond food choices. I’m still learning how to respect myself and my boundaries, both in terms of food and the way I am comfortable moving within and thinking about the world. Things I said yes to before I say no to now, and vice versa. Things I tolerated before I no longer tolerate. I’ve met some incredible people since getting to goal three years ago, largely because I’m no longer afraid (or at least entirely afraid) of what they might think of me. Some friendships have deepened and some have fallen away. But for the most part I don’t sit in regret, not like I used to when I was in the habit of gaining and losing and gaining and losing, not understanding the permanent change that must take place in order to reach and maintain a goal, any goal.

My outside is pretty much where I want it. I’m confident the inside will catch up in time. As long as I stay outside the cycle of self-abuse, self-loathing and delusion and live in a state of emotional transformation, I’ll continue to be more self-respectful and, hopefully, not social inept.

Transformational Thriller

By Barbara Berkeley

Television’s roster of reality shows seems to be increasing with every season. For networks, these shows have been a godsend; cheap to produce and enduringly popular. Like most everyone else, I have my favorites. As a frustrated dancer, I can’t get enough of the vicarious thrills provided by Dancing With the Stars. My daughters love Top Chef and Project Runway. And of course, American Idol.

Reality shows can take many forms, but they seem to be anchored by common themes: adversity, emotional upheaval, competition, and most of all…transformation. Think about it:

America’s Top Model: Ordinary pretty person becomes celebrity glam queen
Top Chef: Unknown cook becomes the next Bobby Flay
Survivor: Regular people become lean, mean survival experts
Dancing With the Stars: Uncoordinated celebrities lose tons of weight and become ballroom dancers
American Idol: The high school kid next door morphs into Carrie Underwood
The Biggest Loser: The caterpillar emerges as the butterfly

Human beings love transformation. We are fascinated by it. We all love the moment when the guy on Extreme Home Makeover yells, “Move the bus!” and reveals that the shack is now a palace.

Transformational themes have been part of our cumulative psyche since Hans Christian Anderson turned a duckling into a swan and Cinderella went from ashes to the ball. Transformation is thrilling and offers us hope about the human condition. Nothing is fated. We have a hand in our own destiny. We can remake ourselves.

In the past several months, I had a small taste of personal transformation and discovered a bit about its heady power. My own mini-change occurred when Karen, my long-suffering hair stylist, announced that she could tame my ultra frizzy hair with a process that irons on keratin. I don’t want to get into my whole hair story, but suffice it to say that I spent the younger years of my life trying to iron, roll, and chemically brow-beat my hair into submission. After years of this, I had reached a point in life where I accepted that I had a lot of hair and most of it had a mind of its own. My frizz became something of a personal emblem. I even enjoyed it, except on days when things got so out of hand that my daughters would tactfully remind me that I had “Bozo hair” and should try a little gel or something. Despite the fact that maturity had included making peace with my follicular challenges, Karen’s offer awoke old dreams. Why not try it? I thought.

On the big day, I had to devote three hours to the process which involved getting a lot of chemical gunk brushed onto every hair strand, lots of waiting time and a prolonged period of heating each section with a flat iron. At the end of it all, I left with stick straight hair that felt almost plasticized. It was as if I had grown a head of doll’s hair overnight. Karen carefully instructed me not to wash or wet my hair for three full days. She needn’t have worried. For the first time in my life, I had hair that wasn’t going to do anything but lie there like an obedient, shiny blanket. I wasn’t messing with it.

On the way home, I continually checked my car mirror to see if I knew who I was. The change was remarkable, even to me. As soon as I got in my house, I realized that my clothes no longer fit my hair. I started to try on things in my closet by combining them in novel ways. Sure enough, I found that the pieces looked completely different on the “new” me. It was as if I’d suddenly inherited a whole new wardrobe. Drunk with the power of transformation, I had the ultimate thought. What if I stopped wearing my glasses? I had an old pair of contact lenses in my bathroom drawer. I somehow got them into my eyes and stepped back to survey the result. The first reaction was horror. There was my whole face, no longer camouflaged by metal rims and tinted glass, with the lines and bags that I’d avoided confronting. What the heck? I was so intoxicated that I didn’t care. I raided my daughter’s dresser and pulled out a pair of glamour sunglasses – the kind I’d never been able to wear because of my own glasses – and went out.

The baristas in my local Starbucks, who see me every day and know my life story as well as my rather complex coffee order, failed to recognize me. What a hoot! The women I play doubles with thought I was a new member of the tennis club and several actually came over to introduce themselves. I was due to give a presentation to the senior hospital staff later that day. When I arrived, literally no one knew who I was. I met my mother-in-law at the mall and she didn’t recognize me until I got within 10 feet. Even better, most people said that I looked younger. For about a month, I had a ball going out every day. My transformation had made me the center of attention – a hot topic – and everyone wanted to discuss it.

But inevitably, reality set in. After several weeks, everyone I knew had seen me in my new incarnation. One morning, I woke to find that my doll’s hair was looking a little fluffy, a bit frizzy. Bozo was beginning to battle the chemicals. Although I determined to stay with my new style, I saw that it would take some doing. That was ok, but what nagged at me was a sad sense of let-down. I felt mournful, like someone who had discovered that the guy they had big crush on was just another human being. In short, dear friends, the thrill was gone.

You can probably see where I’m going with this.

Weight loss in America is a transformation game. Many of the successful dieters I’ve met over the years started to fall apart as soon as the change got old. The let down allowed them to become uncertain. Was the whole thing really worth it? Were they really going to have to do this forever?

The period of transformational high after weight loss and its subsequent let down can be destructive. It reminds me of a tennis analogy. When I hit a really good shot that gets my opponent on the run, I have the tendency to stand and watch. The shot seems so good that I believe the ball will never be coming back. My husband calls this “Admiring the ball” and it drives him crazy when I do it. “This is where you get beat,” he tells me. The moment you hit the good shot, you need to run in and take an offensive position so you can anticipate the next ball. If you stand around, an unexpected return will rocket right by you. In tennis, this is so true. And it’s true also for weight loss. At the end of a diet, we stand around and admire the ball way too much. We do this at the very moment we need to be preparing to go on offense.

As we approach the New Year, tens of millions of people will be resolving to get thinner. Although the vast majority will never act on their resolution, some will succeed and will be rewarded with that sublime moment when they become someone they no longer recognize; someone new. For awhile, the skinny clothes will fit, the jealous glances will come their way, and everything will be magic. But after awhile, their new persona will become just them and life will go on. For most, the cycle will repeat itself. If the thrill comes only with transformation, we can only get it by starting all over again. That means regain.

Those of you who are keeping weight at bay have discovered another kind of pleasure and you’re not falling prey to the transformation cycle. You’ve figured out that the thrill that lies there will break your heart. Perhaps you’ve traded in that big, addictive jolt for the quieter joy of continual, small transformations. Successful people seem always to be adding to their personal portfolio. Did they do pilates? Now they’ve started learning yoga. Did they figure out how to lose weight? Now they’re running a weight loss group. Did they start walking? Suddenly they’re running a 5K. This is better known as personal growth.

Take it from me, there’s nothing wrong with the big thrill. I enjoyed it for a moment. But the slow steady pleasure of adding to our biggest accomplishments? Now that’s a thrill we all! can live with.

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NOTE: On December 21, Barbara was a guest on "Good Company" on WKYC in Cleveland. Click here to view.

“I” is for “Indulgence”

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

On Sunday, I wrote a blog on Lynn’s Weigh about what I ate versus what I’d planned to eat on Thanksgiving – two not totally different things, but far enough apart to make me take notice of what motivated my choices. I received a few comments from points of view that I’d like to address here to hopefully open up a conversation about one word: indulgence. I’d like to know what it means to you, and as a maintainer, how and if you engage in it. 

One reader wrote: “Get a grip, one feast day is not going to undo all the good work you’ve done. You are allowed to celebrate occasionally. You could have eaten A LOT more than you did and it wouldn't have made a dent, because with your steely determination you would have drawn a line under it instantly and been back to your, dare I say it, rigid program the very next day. Let yourself have some moments of indulgence now and then. It’s okay!”

Another wrote: “I think you should let yourself have days where you don’t plan and measure (and let’s be honest, stress about) every single bite you put in your mouth. From the outside it seems just as disordered as binge/overeating. …(T)he fact that you make your family food with “unhealthy” ingredients etc., shows that you understand the social/cultural aspects [of food], and you know one traditional one-day-a-year meal of indulgences will not kill you. To not let yourself share in that indulgence (when you obviously would like to) sends a message to the little eyes around the table as well.

I appreciate this kind of feedback because it helps me better understand food culture and invites me to look closer at my food issues. We all need to engage in that kind of mental housecleaning once in awhile.

So here’s what I know – as of today – about me and food. (Of course this is subject to change the further I prod along this path.)

Planning my food intake is essential. It is my safety net. So, too, is mindful eating. Mindless eating got me obese. Mindless eating fed my emotional issues and kept them suppressed.

So it’s safe to say that I am not one who can indulge mindlessly, and on Thanksgiving, that’s exactly what I did. (Not because of any emotional issues. The stuff was just darn tasty.) And so the problem with T-day wasn’t that I felt I couldn’t indulge, but that I didn’t think about what I was eating.

I was drawn to food that, when mindful, I know makes me feel physically ill. Within an hour of those few bites of stuffing and few bites of potatoes and more than a few bites of apple cake, my stomach really hurt. Granted it was a milder stomach ache than I regularly subjected myself to when I weighed 300 pounds and ate every meal mindlessly, but it was reminiscent enough of those old days to remind me of the promise I made when I began this journey nearly 5 years ago: to never again feel like hell after eating.

I don’t feel guilty for what I ate on Thanksgiving and I’m certainly not beating myself up. T-day was a wonderful learning opportunity, a chance to fine tune the way I engage with and relate to food.

Some folks can indulge without thinking about it and bounce right back. I need to plan my indulgences, and when I do, I indulge on food I know won’t make me sick. I had a plan on T-day that I strayed from. Mindless eating took over and my poor stomach paid the price. So while an occasional indulgence won’t kill me, without planning, it will certainly make me miserable.

Yes I know to some my eating regimen seems rigid. But it keeps me sufficiently fed physically and emotionally. Our food choices and plans are as unique as our fingerprints. My hope is that you all find or have found what works for you.

So tell me, does your plan include indulgences?

A Skillful Holiday to All

By Barbara Berkeley

Negotiating success in maintenance reminds me of so many things: balancing on a bongo board, walking a tightrope, learning to sprint on tiptoe through a vast field of food, negotiating a temptation-jungle with blinders on. We tame the hungry lion with nothing more than our wits. We balance on the tip of a skyscraper-high food pyramid and all the while…we dance.

Maintainers are artists. They are skilled professionals. Their tricks and focus put others to shame. Don’t try this at home. Maintainers are the Cirque du Soleil of the diet world.
Like the final act of any circus, the end of the food year is our crucible, our most daring trick.

From Thanksgiving to Christmas, it will all be thrown at us. The cocoa, the cookies, the emotion, the cinnamon, the chocolate, the tear-jerker movies, the alcohol. We will need to somersault, leap and dodge in order to avoid being annihilated. And who will be triumphant? Not the most virtuous. Not even the most deserving. The ones left taking the final bow will be the most skilled.

I am now entering my sixth year of Primarian eating. Tonight, I prepare myself like a gladiator getting ready for battle. I sharpen my swords, I gird myself, I imagine the inevitable pumpkin-scented opponent. I am determined to remain standing at the end of it all. Are you preparing too?

My skills? Nothing fancy. Sometimes it’s mastery of the most basic techniques that gets a maintainer the furthest. So here are some of the skills I’ve practiced over and over. Hopefully, they are routine by now, ready for deployment as the year’s food circus comes to a close with its final eating lollapalooza:

1. The Old Scan and Plan: Don’t ever get caught in a corner. You should know what’s coming and have a plan to counterpunch. Imagine each holiday situation in as much detail as you can way before it ever happens. Plot a course through the food challenges. When the day comes, mentally check off each situation as you enact your plan. It’s your private game.

2. The Switcheroo: Everyone’s there for the food. Except you! Switch your reason for being at the dinner, family gathering, office party. You’re there to gather information by finding out at least one thing you never knew about five people in the room. You’re there to advance your career by finding someone at the party who can give you a lead. You’re there to see how many people you can get to ask you about your weight loss and how you did it. You’re there to change someone’s life by inspiring them to eat healther, be more like you. Set a goal. Keep track.

3. The Stare Down: For advanced maintainers only! For the true gladiator, there’s nothing more enjoyable than challenging yourself to a direct face-off with the food that used to control you. If you’ve passed the invisible barrier that separates maintenance junior (early maintainer) from SLIM (senior level maintainer), you might enjoy this trick, which is the equivalent of facing down a lion with nothing more than your expression. Go to the table, look at everything, and laugh. A good, loud, internal “HAH!” and a head toss help a lot.

4. The Dress for Success: Wear your best looking and most form fitting clothes. Let them talk to you as you negotiate that dangerous territory. The pressure of snug clothing will remind you of what your body has achieved and prevent you from filling up.

5. The Bring Your Own: A good trick for buffets, pot lucks and other challenges too. Bring a safe dish and make it something you can really load up on if there is little else that fits your rules. Generally, these clean, simple dishes go fast. After all, everyone recognizes healthy food…even if they don’t want to admit it.

There are lots of other tricks I use, but enough about me. Do you have holiday skills? Send them in. Tag them with a punchy name and include a short description. Let’s share the wealth! You’re not dancing alone, you’re not fighting alone, you’re not balancing alone. You’re part of a growing acrobatic troupe. A veritable army of skilled maintainers. Are you ready for the challenge? If so, I salute you!  

“Merry Christmas to All and to All a Good FIGHT!”

Ignore It and It WON'T Go Away

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

When I was a kid, my mother’s advice whenever I’d come home upset after some boy teased me was, “Ignore him and he’ll go away.” Unfortunately I applied the same advice to a lot of worrisome things in my adult life, including my weight. When I paid attention to it for a few days, I’d actually lose a few pounds, but soon after I’d ignore whatever diet I was on and just hope the pounds would magically go away.

When I began my rapid 100-pounds-in-four-years weight gain in 1999, I was afraid to ask the doctor, “Why am I gaining so much weight?” Maybe I had some dread disease or maybe being on an antidepressant, that’s just how life was going to be from then on? Instead of asking the question, I ignored the weight and hoped it would just go away.

If it’s not edited out, that’s one thing you’ll hear me say on Monday during my “before story” on the Today Show when I’m inducted into the Joy Fit Club. 

I was one of several people featured in Joy Bauer’s book, “Joy LIFE Diet,” published in January. Joy Bauer is a dietician and nutritionist and is regularly featured on the Today Show, especially twice a month when she inducts someone who has lost more than 100 pounds through diet and exercise into her Joy Fit Club. On Monday, I will be the latest inductee.

My segment will air during the 10 a.m. hour, called the “Fourth Hour” of the Today Show, but not shown in all markets at 10 a.m. For instance, in Pittsburgh it airs at 2 p.m. and in Minneapolis it airs at 11 a.m. I’m sure it will be on the MSNBC website at some point and I’ll post a link to it when I find it.

Anyway, back to what I was saying before about ignore it and it will go away. I know I’m preaching to the choir here, but surprise, surprise! Excess weight – especially hundreds of pounds – doesn’t just go away. It takes complete and total concentration and commitment, which I was able to accept and envelop once I stopped ignoring the problem.

I have a history of ignoring problematic issues, particularly as they pertain to my body. Take last Saturday for instance. I was painting the hall stairs and my knee popped. As you know, I have severe osteoarthritis in my knees and they need to be replaced, so it’s a common thing to have one of them pop out of place. But this time was different. The pain shot up to my right glute and stayed there for days.

I was afraid I had a bulging disk or had developed more arthritis or bone spurs. For days my mind went wild thinking, “What could it be?” I dreaded another “You need surgery” diagnosis. (To-date, I’ve had eight surgery diagnoses. It would take me years to recover if I had them all! LOL) But rather than ignore it and hope it would go away, I got curious and began by seeing my chiropractor. Twenty minutes later, she had a spot-on diagnosis: I had an inflamed tensor fasciae latae muscle that was pulling the tendon on the outside of my thigh, thus causing the knee joint to dislocate. She did some (yow!!) massage and ultrasound, showed me some stretches, and told me to massage the muscle and tendon with a tennis ball and Styrofoam roller a few times a day and apply heat to the area.

Twenty-four hours later, I’m a new woman. I slept well last night, not only because the pain had subsided, but I was emotionally relieved that I didn’t have to solve the problem by going under the knife.

Isn’t it usually the case that what we fear is more daunting than what is real? I knew the last time that if I was going to lose weight, my attitude and many of my behaviors had to change or I’d gain it all back. Ignoring that reality and allowing those feelings to sit in the periphery of my mind made the concept more scary than it turned out to be in real life. Once I faced my fears head on, and dissected what it was I really wanted and what was important to me, I was able to lose weight. Same thing with my tensor fasciae latae muscle and a few dozen other things in the last few years. I’m trying to be confrontational tonight, too, as I anticipate the whole Today Show thing on Monday. “I won’t say something stupid. I won’t say something stupid,” is what I keep telling myself. Again, the future is scary. The unknown is unnerving. But just knowing that is a huge step in the right direction, the direction of change.

Maintenance: The Lovely, Strange and Unique

By Lynn Haraldson-Bering

Barbara asked in her last blog, “What lovely, strange and unique things have you discovered as a result of your own maintenance experience?” I’ve been thinking about my answer to this all week, but realize I don’t have much to add to what so many of you already wrote.

I’m working on losing a few pounds I’ve gained, so I could totally relate to Claudia who has gained back some of her weight loss. Rather than ignore it, she’s tackling it. When I’d gotten to some illusive weight “goal” in the past, I always regained because I went back to my old way of eating, just like Barbara wrote: “Most people who finish a weight loss return to a modification of old habits. Habit is the operative word. If your previous dietary style made you fat, it is likely to do so again, even with modifications.”

Gee, and I thought I was the only one! Oh the emotional pain I put myself through when I couldn’t maintain a weight loss. But I had no tools! I honestly had no idea how to do it. I didn’t ask questions or even know who to ask. I just figured I’d lost weight so I could go back to eating again. But like Judy said, “To keep it off, eat the way you ate to lose it.” Sounds so simple, but if you lost weight by starving yourself or depriving yourself of everything you like, chances are you’re not going to keep eating the way you did while you lost weight. That was always my problem before.

It’s only when I got curious about what makes my body tick that maintenance became more fun than tedious. As SueT wrote: “Gathering this scientific information about ME, knowing MY body and MY idiosyncrasies, has set me free.” Set me free. I like that phrase. I was a slave to the scale for so many years, a prisoner in my own body, both when it was heavy and when it was thin, because I didn’t understand it. My mind short shrifted my body, saying, in a way, “Just feed it and it will be happy! Now move on to more important thoughts!” But so many of my thoughts and subsequent actions revolved around the fear and loathing I had of my body. Still, it took me years to understand that I had to consult my body, and to understand what it needs and doesn’t need in order to be “set free.”

Linda made a great analogy about the kind of commitment it takes to maintain: “Weigh maintenance is like marriage. You don’t make the commitment once, but you re-make it every day. You make it a priority in your attitude and behavior…You re-make the decision every day, or several times each day.” Or several times each day. We’re not only confronted with but bombarded daily by refined, processed, and non-nutritional foods and its advertising. People bring it to share at work, it’s in restaurants and grocery stores, and so much of it tastes great and for a split second (or perhaps many split seconds) I might think, “If only I could have just one bite…” But instead of impulsively caving, I think, “Is this worth it? Do I really want to eat this?” Even if the answer is yes, the fact that I thought about it is a far cry from the days of eating whatever whenever.

Something Sharilyn wrote really struck home. “It’s sort of lonely,” she wrote, “but I must view this as an investment in my future.” Lonely. I guess because there are so few of us who choose to eat and live the way we do in reduced-weight bodies that it is often lonely and isolating. Many people just don’t “get it.”

I used to make excuses for how I eat, apologizing almost for refusing to consume something offered me at a restaurant or party. But I found my voice and gave myself permission to be my own boss and to stick up for my dietary needs. I’m not rude or overly demanding, but I inquire about the way foods are prepared, and I’m completely comfortable saying “No” to food that is not part of my plan, even if it was “made for” me. If someone really knows me, they know NOT to make me food unless they’ve discussed it with me first. Not even cupcakes made by a sweet, adorable child.

A few years ago I read a thread on the Weight Watchers board in which a woman posted that she just “had” to eat a cupcake made for her by her niece. I wrote back that no one “has” to eat anything they don’t want to eat. If you want to eat it, eat it, but be honest with yourself. If eating that cupcake is going to make you feel bad about breaking the promise you made to yourself to eat healthy, then don’t eat it. Eating it because you’re afraid of hurting someone’s feelings is not staying true to yourself and it’s not going to solve the problem in the future. There WILL be more cupcakes sooner or later.

Food should not equal guilt. If my niece made me a cupcake, I’d thank her and then tell her why I don’t eat cupcakes. There are plenty of tactful ways of saying no to food. Just ask the Girl Scouts who knock on my door every year!

Still, it can be lonely always sticking up for your food choices. Not many people understand. But that’s why maintenance is, as Barbara said, a whole other ballgame. And the lovely, strange and unique things we learn about ourselves is an ongoing education.