I have decided to do some volunteer work. With a four year gap, and a lack of professional references of a supervisory sort, I figured I should do something to try to help that situation. So I am now going to volunteer in an administrative capacity at a nearby hospital. I just received a photo ID badge that must be worn at all times while at the hospital. The photo... OH the photo. When not faced with hard evidence in the form of a photographic image, I think I look better than I actually do! Whenever I see a photo - I am shocked. Who IS that big, sloppy, tired looking woman? Its ME! Wow. I see heavy women who still manage to look good. I envy them.
I think most people suffer from picture shock. But I think when weight is really kicking the carp out of you health-wise, it really shows, and the picture shock is worse. I look tired. I look swollen.
And yesterday, I stumbled upon a pic of me on my sister's facebook page. There I am, sitting in a lawn chair at a pool party, in the background. Sitting around... ALL around. With long jeans and a yellow shirt on. One huge body, with a little head on it. I see myself in these images as though I am looking at another person, and I think - wow. Theres someone who needs to move around a bit more and eat a whole lot less.
And to think - I used to hike through the woods for hours on end. I was overweight then too. I look at these pics now - and I think to myself, how did I get here?
I know how I got here, I just have a hard time wrapping my head around how extreme my situation is, that I got THIS large. How does someone who crawled through swamps, kayaked, ran through woods, jumped over fallen logs and old stone walls - turn into THIS?
I didn't just abruptly stop my outdoorsy ways. They petered off over time, as it became increasingly difficult for me to do these things, because of my increasing size, and this undercurrent of denial about my size.
I look forward to the days when I can see visible differences in pictures taken of me.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
February 20th Promise - BROKEN!
Well, I did it again! Yes, I was going to log back in on February 20th, and let any interested readers know how I did during that day. Yet I did not post that evening. SHAAAMMME.....
I can't tell you how I did - I do remember getting laundry done, but I did not make a stir fry dish. Can't remember what I ate.
Part of successfully changing eating habits is to be accountable - to yourself! It does not go unnoticed that I flaked out on posting that evening! It is a matter of accountability and a failing of same. Being accountable for one's actions has an awful lot to do with weight issues. But instead of flaking out on others, you are flaking out on yourself. So I mark this down as another trait that I must consciously work on.
Accountability.
I can't tell you how I did - I do remember getting laundry done, but I did not make a stir fry dish. Can't remember what I ate.
Part of successfully changing eating habits is to be accountable - to yourself! It does not go unnoticed that I flaked out on posting that evening! It is a matter of accountability and a failing of same. Being accountable for one's actions has an awful lot to do with weight issues. But instead of flaking out on others, you are flaking out on yourself. So I mark this down as another trait that I must consciously work on.
Accountability.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Depressed and What I Intend to do about It.
I am depressed today. Feeling beat, defeated, hopeless. What is causing this? The usual... Trying to find work, staring down the barrel of a fiscal gun. Wondering how long I will get to stay in my reasonable-rent apartment, wondering what I will lose, wondering how soul crushing it will be to have to have an estate sale while still alive, wondering how I will cope with the horrible loss of my pets because I cant take them with me to a subsidized apartment, and feeling so much guilt and shame over the worry I am causing my parents. Its days like these, I feel like disappearing, or wish I could. I have those days frequently.
So what will I do to deal with this? I got dressed. Thats the first thing to do. Never sleep in. Get up, get dressed, put on your shoes. Next I will drink a cup of black coffee. This is what I did almost every morning before heading off to work. It triggers a kind of flashback for me, of having things to do, places to go, people to meet. Of having a schedule, meetings, deadlines.
Then I will do the dishes, that have been piling up. Then I will hand-wash a linen shirt. I have quite a bit of backed up clothing that requires hand-washing...
Then I will clean out the fridge (of rotting veggies I didn't eat because I continue to have the palate of a 5 year old).
Then I will eat something for lunch - probably just an orange...
Then I will do a load of laundry.
Then I will go to the gym, for at least 45 minutes on the treadmill. Sometimes it makes me feel better, sometimes I leave feeling frustrated. Because I sabotage anything accomplished with my feeding frenzies.
Then I will go to the grocery store for kitty litter for the cats, and something healthy to eat for dinner. I am stumped on what that might be.... perhaps some mushrooms and peppers, with skinless chicken, for a stirfry dish. If anyone can offer some good tips for 1-person quick and healthy stirfry meals, Im all ears!
Especially any of you thin lanky people - what do YOU eat most nights? Looking to change the nightly habit of choosing between a few choices - box of mac and cheese, frozen pizza, or a big bowl of pasta with sauce, grated cheese, and a couple slices of bread.
Then I will come home, do another load of laundry, and work on a resume for a job I saw that I will probably never hear back for. Not because Im pessimistic, but because I am a realist, and this has been the trend for some time now.
Then I will cook and eat supper
and then before bed, I will come back here and tell you how much of the above I got accomplished, and how I feel about it!
So what will I do to deal with this? I got dressed. Thats the first thing to do. Never sleep in. Get up, get dressed, put on your shoes. Next I will drink a cup of black coffee. This is what I did almost every morning before heading off to work. It triggers a kind of flashback for me, of having things to do, places to go, people to meet. Of having a schedule, meetings, deadlines.
Then I will do the dishes, that have been piling up. Then I will hand-wash a linen shirt. I have quite a bit of backed up clothing that requires hand-washing...
Then I will clean out the fridge (of rotting veggies I didn't eat because I continue to have the palate of a 5 year old).
Then I will eat something for lunch - probably just an orange...
Then I will do a load of laundry.
Then I will go to the gym, for at least 45 minutes on the treadmill. Sometimes it makes me feel better, sometimes I leave feeling frustrated. Because I sabotage anything accomplished with my feeding frenzies.
Then I will go to the grocery store for kitty litter for the cats, and something healthy to eat for dinner. I am stumped on what that might be.... perhaps some mushrooms and peppers, with skinless chicken, for a stirfry dish. If anyone can offer some good tips for 1-person quick and healthy stirfry meals, Im all ears!
Especially any of you thin lanky people - what do YOU eat most nights? Looking to change the nightly habit of choosing between a few choices - box of mac and cheese, frozen pizza, or a big bowl of pasta with sauce, grated cheese, and a couple slices of bread.
Then I will come home, do another load of laundry, and work on a resume for a job I saw that I will probably never hear back for. Not because Im pessimistic, but because I am a realist, and this has been the trend for some time now.
Then I will cook and eat supper
and then before bed, I will come back here and tell you how much of the above I got accomplished, and how I feel about it!
Wake-Up Call
What finally brought me around to get back on the blog and my obesity problem? Well, I am involved in a resume and interview workshop. I have been out of work for over 4 years now. I was once solidly amongst the middle-class, with a professional position.
Ironically, my now devastated career was a physically demanding job, requiring construction site visits, and hours of hiking through woods and fields, up and down rocky hills, and through swamps. I continued to gain weight throughout the last 15 or so years of my career, in spite of the rigorous field work. I was horrified when several years ago, I was on a field trip to study vernal pools with many of my colleagues. I could not keep up with the group, and found myself huffing and puffing on the trails and falling far behind. I was mortified when one of the group leaders hung back to bring up the rear - MY rear, and asking me if I wanted to rest a moment. It was a horrible experience for me. I was once very active, I enjoyed bird watching and flatwater kayaking. I enjoyed exploring the woods. I can no longer fit in a kayak, and I can no longer make my way down a steep wooded slope without fear of injury. I know that just based on age alone, there are things I used to be able to do such as jumping over logs in the woods - that I may no longer be able to do, but I would at least like to be able to step or climb over them! I may not be able to ever go back to the rigorous field work my career demanded, but I hope to enter back into my career in a less physically rigorous role some day.
But here is the real wake-up call. In the resume workshop, we are practicing interviewing. I have access to Human Resources professionals in these workshops. I have asked them to critique my dressing, and I failed miserably. I was told I must wear a jacket to an interview. It is very difficult to find a decent fitting jacket when one is 5'2" and 240 lbs., with most weight in the belly. Tucking in shirts is not an option for me unless I want to disgust people entirely.
I had to struggle to find a single jacket that barely fits. I cannot button it, and I must wear it over a button-up blouse that is not tucked in.
I desperately need to return to work. I am in jeopardy of losing what little I have left. I am caught in a bad economy, with bad health, obesity, a long career gap, and a less than stellar work history. I fear not being able to support myself, of losing every last bit of the middle-class life I once had. I fear destitution.
It is that fear that compels me now to return to combating this obesity problem. Even if I were to become healthy with an optimal weight, there is no guarantee I will be able to find gainful employment again, anytime soon. I worry... But I can't let the litany of troubles - the career gap, the side-lined career, the various discriminations against the overweight, anyone over 40, and the unemployed - stop me from trying. But I am aware of them. They terrify me. I can't turn the clock back and change my age, or the career gap, or the troubles in my previous work life. But I do have control over my weight. I can work on that.
Perhaps if I can look half decent in business attire, I may be able to find a job that pays a living wage. I have to admit though, given the state of the economy and all the horror stories I know of - people who don't have health issues, and who have excellent work histories unable to find work -well - what chance have I got? - I have an against-all-odds, desperate hope that there is a job out there for me.... because the alternatives are horrifying.
And I spend a great deal of time lately reminiscing about the past - when my future was so bright, I had to wear shades. Now it seems so dark, I could use a powerful flashlight.
Ironically, my now devastated career was a physically demanding job, requiring construction site visits, and hours of hiking through woods and fields, up and down rocky hills, and through swamps. I continued to gain weight throughout the last 15 or so years of my career, in spite of the rigorous field work. I was horrified when several years ago, I was on a field trip to study vernal pools with many of my colleagues. I could not keep up with the group, and found myself huffing and puffing on the trails and falling far behind. I was mortified when one of the group leaders hung back to bring up the rear - MY rear, and asking me if I wanted to rest a moment. It was a horrible experience for me. I was once very active, I enjoyed bird watching and flatwater kayaking. I enjoyed exploring the woods. I can no longer fit in a kayak, and I can no longer make my way down a steep wooded slope without fear of injury. I know that just based on age alone, there are things I used to be able to do such as jumping over logs in the woods - that I may no longer be able to do, but I would at least like to be able to step or climb over them! I may not be able to ever go back to the rigorous field work my career demanded, but I hope to enter back into my career in a less physically rigorous role some day.
But here is the real wake-up call. In the resume workshop, we are practicing interviewing. I have access to Human Resources professionals in these workshops. I have asked them to critique my dressing, and I failed miserably. I was told I must wear a jacket to an interview. It is very difficult to find a decent fitting jacket when one is 5'2" and 240 lbs., with most weight in the belly. Tucking in shirts is not an option for me unless I want to disgust people entirely.
I had to struggle to find a single jacket that barely fits. I cannot button it, and I must wear it over a button-up blouse that is not tucked in.
I desperately need to return to work. I am in jeopardy of losing what little I have left. I am caught in a bad economy, with bad health, obesity, a long career gap, and a less than stellar work history. I fear not being able to support myself, of losing every last bit of the middle-class life I once had. I fear destitution.
It is that fear that compels me now to return to combating this obesity problem. Even if I were to become healthy with an optimal weight, there is no guarantee I will be able to find gainful employment again, anytime soon. I worry... But I can't let the litany of troubles - the career gap, the side-lined career, the various discriminations against the overweight, anyone over 40, and the unemployed - stop me from trying. But I am aware of them. They terrify me. I can't turn the clock back and change my age, or the career gap, or the troubles in my previous work life. But I do have control over my weight. I can work on that.
Perhaps if I can look half decent in business attire, I may be able to find a job that pays a living wage. I have to admit though, given the state of the economy and all the horror stories I know of - people who don't have health issues, and who have excellent work histories unable to find work -well - what chance have I got? - I have an against-all-odds, desperate hope that there is a job out there for me.... because the alternatives are horrifying.
And I spend a great deal of time lately reminiscing about the past - when my future was so bright, I had to wear shades. Now it seems so dark, I could use a powerful flashlight.
What I Was Eating
Well, I did the disappearing act over the winter. Shame! Heres the confessions of my eating habits.
As of the time of this writing, I have not yet eaten breakfast. I live alone, and I have had trouble establishing normal eating times. I eat when I get hungry, which wouldn't be so bad, if I also didn't eat when I feel stressed, bored, anxiety-stricken, angry, frustrated. Pretty much any negative emotion sends me searching for something preferably carb laden with cheese. The foods I eat serve primarily as sedatives, comforts. Even when I am hungry, I still reach for these foods, because I "like" (or am simply accustomed to) how they taste.
What I ate yesterday: 1 and 1/2 box of Chicken flavored Rice A Roni, 1 box of Velveeta Macaroni and Cheese, a couple of slices of American cheese, and one Chobani blueberry Greek Yogurt. Total Calories: Rice a Roni per box, 300 x 3 servings, for a total of 900 calories per box. Not to mention anything of sodium content and fat content (butter). Velveeta Mac and Cheese, 360 calories x 3 servings per box. American cheese per slice, appx. 50 cals per 1/2 oz slice, 3 slices = 150 calories, Chobani yogurt, 140 cals.
So, total calories for yesterday are: appx. 2720.
I should be eating appx. 1,200 calories.
Seems that on average, I will eat around 3,000 calories per day.
And this is why I am 5'2" and 240 lbs!
I am on a fixed budget for food - $200.00.
I often read comments on how can people living in poverty be fat here in the USA? It is because of cheap processed foods, full of simple carbohydrates! Poor people live on this stuff. Ramen noodles, boxed macaroni and cheese, rice a roni, white bread, cheap frozen pizza. These are Type II causing diabetes foods, because of the simple carbs that slam your pancreas, and they cause hypertension because of the sodium, and heart disease because of the saturated fats. They also cause fatigue and exacerbate depression because they are bereft of nutrition and critical vitamins. A diet of fresh lean meats, veggies and fruits can be challenging for the very poor not just for financial reasons, but also because of time limits. So many families today are working long hours and have precious little time at home. Cooking fresh foods IS more time consuming than whipping up a box of macaroni and cheese, and much easier to ruin the food by improper cooking, thus wasting valuable food/money.
So here are the challenges I face: To learn how to eat a healthy diet rich in fresh fruits and veggies, whole-grains breads and pastas, and lean meats, on $200.00 a month, to learn how to cook these meals for one person, to change my palate to enjoy the taste of vegetables, and quit the addiction of simple carbs (white bread and pasta).
I will eat much garbage going forward. I have no illusions that because I have returned to blogging, that all will be rosy. Heck - as I type this, I am thinking about that last box of Velveeta Macaroni and Cheese in my cupboards! Kraft... I figure a good 60 pounds of my weight is compliments of Kraft foods. Corporate food is life-sapping garbage! I will post my eating habits here, the good, the bad, the ugly.
Yesterday, was ugly. Very ugly.
As of the time of this writing, I have not yet eaten breakfast. I live alone, and I have had trouble establishing normal eating times. I eat when I get hungry, which wouldn't be so bad, if I also didn't eat when I feel stressed, bored, anxiety-stricken, angry, frustrated. Pretty much any negative emotion sends me searching for something preferably carb laden with cheese. The foods I eat serve primarily as sedatives, comforts. Even when I am hungry, I still reach for these foods, because I "like" (or am simply accustomed to) how they taste.
What I ate yesterday: 1 and 1/2 box of Chicken flavored Rice A Roni, 1 box of Velveeta Macaroni and Cheese, a couple of slices of American cheese, and one Chobani blueberry Greek Yogurt. Total Calories: Rice a Roni per box, 300 x 3 servings, for a total of 900 calories per box. Not to mention anything of sodium content and fat content (butter). Velveeta Mac and Cheese, 360 calories x 3 servings per box. American cheese per slice, appx. 50 cals per 1/2 oz slice, 3 slices = 150 calories, Chobani yogurt, 140 cals.
So, total calories for yesterday are: appx. 2720.
I should be eating appx. 1,200 calories.
Seems that on average, I will eat around 3,000 calories per day.
And this is why I am 5'2" and 240 lbs!
I am on a fixed budget for food - $200.00.
I often read comments on how can people living in poverty be fat here in the USA? It is because of cheap processed foods, full of simple carbohydrates! Poor people live on this stuff. Ramen noodles, boxed macaroni and cheese, rice a roni, white bread, cheap frozen pizza. These are Type II causing diabetes foods, because of the simple carbs that slam your pancreas, and they cause hypertension because of the sodium, and heart disease because of the saturated fats. They also cause fatigue and exacerbate depression because they are bereft of nutrition and critical vitamins. A diet of fresh lean meats, veggies and fruits can be challenging for the very poor not just for financial reasons, but also because of time limits. So many families today are working long hours and have precious little time at home. Cooking fresh foods IS more time consuming than whipping up a box of macaroni and cheese, and much easier to ruin the food by improper cooking, thus wasting valuable food/money.
So here are the challenges I face: To learn how to eat a healthy diet rich in fresh fruits and veggies, whole-grains breads and pastas, and lean meats, on $200.00 a month, to learn how to cook these meals for one person, to change my palate to enjoy the taste of vegetables, and quit the addiction of simple carbs (white bread and pasta).
I will eat much garbage going forward. I have no illusions that because I have returned to blogging, that all will be rosy. Heck - as I type this, I am thinking about that last box of Velveeta Macaroni and Cheese in my cupboards! Kraft... I figure a good 60 pounds of my weight is compliments of Kraft foods. Corporate food is life-sapping garbage! I will post my eating habits here, the good, the bad, the ugly.
Yesterday, was ugly. Very ugly.
The Disappearing Act
Well, looks like I did it. I disappeared for several months! But I'm back! Ive been M.I.A. for so long, and I have quite a bit to say, which I must remember to write separate posts for.
But firstly, for the few of you who have visited and are now returning, you may notice that the "donation" link is missing from this blog. I have given up on the "begging" route for obtaining a Hurom juicer, and in fact, have given up on juicing altogether, for now. Perhaps I will try just using my old blender until it smokes and breaks down. However, my financial reality (POVERTY) is such that I will have to forgo the 90-day juice kickstart, much to my immense disappointment. I do however, have some tricks up my sleeve, and perhaps I can still get my hands on a Hurom juicer, but for now, its going to have to be the old-fashioned slow plodding route of learning how to eat healthy and get regular exercise. My initial interest in the 90-day juice kickstart was primarily change my psychology, and my taste buds. If I had all of the various foods I rely on (and that make me sick) out of the house and had only juices (and perhaps pulp crackers) to choose from, it would be hard at first, but would have been very good for changing my very bad eating habits. Habits which are deeply ingrained from childhood. I will tell you all about these horrid eating habits in an upcoming post.
But to the title of this post: I have gone missing! Ah yes. The disappearing act of the shameful eater. Its the same as the overeater who starts to "forget" to keep that food journal nutritionists and psychotherapists urge us to keep - because to have all those lapses written down - the box of macaroni and cheese, the box of cookies, the bag of potato chips - to write it down and have a permanent record of it is bad enough, but to then have to share that with someone else, and have the repeated failure right there - for all to see, is hard. Its not just an ugly food record. It is a hard reminder, one of failure, one of the inability to control. It is a badge of shame. And its why so many of us who are told to keep a food journal just aren't able to do it. Its easy if we are on track, but the moment we fall off our plans, the blemishes in the journal are just always sitting in there, reminding us. And its the same with an online journal! This blog is essentially the journal I would keep for a psychotherapist, and I am opening it up for the world to see. As I have mentioned in earlier posts, it is because I want to be helpful and offer some consolation to others who are struggling like me, that you are not alone. It can be so cathartic to know that others are struggling too. I do believe that the problems of overeating and getting to health are essentially the same for most of us. And we all struggle. But the struggle is not "not knowing" how to eat right. Most of us DO know how we should be eating.
But there I go, off on a tangent. The allusion I made to journaling with pen and paper, and neglecting to continue when you don't have achievements and progress to write about, is the same issue that causes the blogger baring their dysfunctional soul to the world for scrutiny. Its that much worse, because it is there for all of you - the compassionate as well as the cruel-hearted, to read and dissect.
Needless to say, the past several months have not been the best. I reverted to old eating habits. I had no progress to write about. I did not want to write post after post of the behaviors that make me obese. Yet, it is this desire to wallow in denial that perpetuates the problem. If I compel myself to write on this journal, even when I don't want to, I help myself to THINK about what I am doing, and I help others to have an insight on the behavior that got me here in the first place. So even when my behavior is poor, and deserving of derision by the cold-hearted, it is important too, if I can just help a few people out there to know that you're not alone, and that this is something that we can overcome. I believe that thoroughly. It is after all, just excess weight. It is NOT an insurmountable problem, even though we may at times feel it is hopeless! It is NOT hopeless.
So I renew my commitment to write. Perhaps not daily, but at least weekly. But I will try for daily... if not for any other reason, to write down what I ate today. Good bad and ugly. I want to open up the world of one overeater for the world to see. I am a part of the American Obesity Epidemic, and I have many thoughts on this epidemic.
So let us (well, more particularly, me) go forward bravely!
But firstly, for the few of you who have visited and are now returning, you may notice that the "donation" link is missing from this blog. I have given up on the "begging" route for obtaining a Hurom juicer, and in fact, have given up on juicing altogether, for now. Perhaps I will try just using my old blender until it smokes and breaks down. However, my financial reality (POVERTY) is such that I will have to forgo the 90-day juice kickstart, much to my immense disappointment. I do however, have some tricks up my sleeve, and perhaps I can still get my hands on a Hurom juicer, but for now, its going to have to be the old-fashioned slow plodding route of learning how to eat healthy and get regular exercise. My initial interest in the 90-day juice kickstart was primarily change my psychology, and my taste buds. If I had all of the various foods I rely on (and that make me sick) out of the house and had only juices (and perhaps pulp crackers) to choose from, it would be hard at first, but would have been very good for changing my very bad eating habits. Habits which are deeply ingrained from childhood. I will tell you all about these horrid eating habits in an upcoming post.
But to the title of this post: I have gone missing! Ah yes. The disappearing act of the shameful eater. Its the same as the overeater who starts to "forget" to keep that food journal nutritionists and psychotherapists urge us to keep - because to have all those lapses written down - the box of macaroni and cheese, the box of cookies, the bag of potato chips - to write it down and have a permanent record of it is bad enough, but to then have to share that with someone else, and have the repeated failure right there - for all to see, is hard. Its not just an ugly food record. It is a hard reminder, one of failure, one of the inability to control. It is a badge of shame. And its why so many of us who are told to keep a food journal just aren't able to do it. Its easy if we are on track, but the moment we fall off our plans, the blemishes in the journal are just always sitting in there, reminding us. And its the same with an online journal! This blog is essentially the journal I would keep for a psychotherapist, and I am opening it up for the world to see. As I have mentioned in earlier posts, it is because I want to be helpful and offer some consolation to others who are struggling like me, that you are not alone. It can be so cathartic to know that others are struggling too. I do believe that the problems of overeating and getting to health are essentially the same for most of us. And we all struggle. But the struggle is not "not knowing" how to eat right. Most of us DO know how we should be eating.
But there I go, off on a tangent. The allusion I made to journaling with pen and paper, and neglecting to continue when you don't have achievements and progress to write about, is the same issue that causes the blogger baring their dysfunctional soul to the world for scrutiny. Its that much worse, because it is there for all of you - the compassionate as well as the cruel-hearted, to read and dissect.
Needless to say, the past several months have not been the best. I reverted to old eating habits. I had no progress to write about. I did not want to write post after post of the behaviors that make me obese. Yet, it is this desire to wallow in denial that perpetuates the problem. If I compel myself to write on this journal, even when I don't want to, I help myself to THINK about what I am doing, and I help others to have an insight on the behavior that got me here in the first place. So even when my behavior is poor, and deserving of derision by the cold-hearted, it is important too, if I can just help a few people out there to know that you're not alone, and that this is something that we can overcome. I believe that thoroughly. It is after all, just excess weight. It is NOT an insurmountable problem, even though we may at times feel it is hopeless! It is NOT hopeless.
So I renew my commitment to write. Perhaps not daily, but at least weekly. But I will try for daily... if not for any other reason, to write down what I ate today. Good bad and ugly. I want to open up the world of one overeater for the world to see. I am a part of the American Obesity Epidemic, and I have many thoughts on this epidemic.
So let us (well, more particularly, me) go forward bravely!
Saturday, September 10, 2011
The Old Mountain Bike - Redux
Well, I have to backtrack a bit on my previous post about being able to crawl up onto my old mountain bike and thus being able to ride it. I took it out this past week and fidgeted around a bit with it. Set the seat post to the appropriate height, and took it for another spin up and down my road (about a grand total of 500 feet). Turns out the aforementioned thieves may have done a bit more damage - The bike wont shift into the third/highest chain wheel. Perhaps this is a simple matter of adjusting the shift cable - I will have to drag out my old bike tools and book to see what can be done. But perhaps the front derailleur or shift mechanism has been damaged. That aside, I ran into other troubles. One being that I caught (but did not tear) my jeans in the gear. So, on another ride, I wore my 3x size spandex pants - fabric entanglement with gear issue solved, but now a new issue. When I attempt to stop and dismount, and this is embarrassing, but the crotch of my pants gets snagged by the shorter front end of the seat, and I practically fall over! Other issues are that the pedals are viciously TOOTHED, for that superior grip on the wooded trails. These pedals once had those straps that you slide your feet in and out of. I called them suicide straps - even when I was in top riding condition. I never could get the hang of them, and already starting to suffer from weak ankle issues at the tender age of 30, I removed them. Now, these teeth grip into my sneakers in a most unsettling way. My solution which has not yet been implemented is to wrap the suckers in duct tape. But even with these fixes, I find it awfully difficult to just up and start pedalling, and wobble here and there. Its a very unsafe feeling, and I have decided one truly CAN forget how to ride a bike. Also on the dismount, there is something to be said for some level of flexibility. I actually tend to be pretty flexible in the leg area, or so I thought. This bike is starting to make me doubt my agility in that area. Also, I find the mountain bike riding position, to be not quite as hunched over as a road bike, but not as upright as a cruiser, to be a real challenge when you have a big ol' belly impeding the free movement of upper legs. Im most discouraged by this turn of events, as I was hoping to ride this bike to and from Planet Fitness, two miles from my home... Im not sure I could make it without ending up taking a ride in an ambulance instead! Sigh..... oh, sigh, sigh, sigh....
I intend to still fiddle about with the bike, and see if I cant finagle some workable situation with it. I cant afford to go out and buy a better suited bike for my situation - heck - I cant afford a juicer, and Im doing good just to put gas in my vehicle. In fact, it was the gas situation that had me drag out the old mountain bike in the first place, in a bid to bike to the gym, getting exercise and saving gas. Yes, the total of 4 miles a day for getting to and from the gym does accumulate into a cost that is substantial for me.... As mentioned in previous posts, I find myself living in abject poverty - a most embarrassing situation.
I do like fiddling with things, getting my hands greasy. I bet I could have been a good mechanic, based on my desire to disassemble mechanical parts and figure out how things work (putting them back together, thats the real challenge...). So I will probably drag out the mountain bike maintenance book, the lubricating sprays, the bike tools, and a roll of duct tape and see what I can do about getting that bike to a point where I don't feel that my life is in immediate danger, but rather just the potential of serious injury!
Meanwhile, I suppose I will have to swallow those gas costs to get to the gym, and settle for walking around the block, and who knows - perhaps walking to and from the gym as well. Seems silly though, to walk two miles to the gym, to get on the treadmill to walk another mile, then walk home again! I figure it this way - its really just GETTING to the gym that is the goal. And once there, well - I should actually DO something there. When I was in much better shape - my glory days in my 20s, I used to work out daily - I did circuits - trained one muscle group one day, and another the next. However, at 250 lbs, Working the Cybex machines is just not comfortable - and I just cant bring myself to sit ALL over those little seats until I get to about 160 or so. And I should be able to reach that point just fine with aerobic exercise for now....
And I also looked into how heavy is too heavy to be on a bike again. On my first search, I seemed to find info that if you can waddle over and sit on your bike, then you aren't too heavy - well, on further research, it turns out thats not exactly the case, and my initial suspicions have been confirmed. You CAN be too heavy to be on a bicycle - that isnt properly constructed for the additional weight. There are companies that actually make bicycles with heavy duty tires and frames, that will not catastrophically fail under weights of over 200 pounds or so! It turns out having a mountain bike is a better compromise because they are built to withstand a beating. Assuming you can handle their unique and less than comfortable form factors, given a prodigious frame of your own.
Well, I haven't given up entirely on the old bike - but she has lost quite a bit of her golden gleam since my last writing about her. If I feel unstable on the bike, I just can't ride it. But I will see what I can do, since the option does not presently exist to purchase a bike more suitable to my current abilities and size...
But if I could buy that bike - I think Im going for a cruiser - something with fenders over the chain and gears (so jeans can be worn without fear of having them torn off in the gears), and with a more upright position. A less fiddly bike, like the kind we all used to tool about on as kids. Easy riding, no muss, no fuss. THATS for me! Give me a PeeWee Herman bike any ol' day. Leave the fiddly bikes for the weekend warriors who don't mind various flesh wounds and minor bone fractures!
I intend to still fiddle about with the bike, and see if I cant finagle some workable situation with it. I cant afford to go out and buy a better suited bike for my situation - heck - I cant afford a juicer, and Im doing good just to put gas in my vehicle. In fact, it was the gas situation that had me drag out the old mountain bike in the first place, in a bid to bike to the gym, getting exercise and saving gas. Yes, the total of 4 miles a day for getting to and from the gym does accumulate into a cost that is substantial for me.... As mentioned in previous posts, I find myself living in abject poverty - a most embarrassing situation.
I do like fiddling with things, getting my hands greasy. I bet I could have been a good mechanic, based on my desire to disassemble mechanical parts and figure out how things work (putting them back together, thats the real challenge...). So I will probably drag out the mountain bike maintenance book, the lubricating sprays, the bike tools, and a roll of duct tape and see what I can do about getting that bike to a point where I don't feel that my life is in immediate danger, but rather just the potential of serious injury!
Meanwhile, I suppose I will have to swallow those gas costs to get to the gym, and settle for walking around the block, and who knows - perhaps walking to and from the gym as well. Seems silly though, to walk two miles to the gym, to get on the treadmill to walk another mile, then walk home again! I figure it this way - its really just GETTING to the gym that is the goal. And once there, well - I should actually DO something there. When I was in much better shape - my glory days in my 20s, I used to work out daily - I did circuits - trained one muscle group one day, and another the next. However, at 250 lbs, Working the Cybex machines is just not comfortable - and I just cant bring myself to sit ALL over those little seats until I get to about 160 or so. And I should be able to reach that point just fine with aerobic exercise for now....
And I also looked into how heavy is too heavy to be on a bike again. On my first search, I seemed to find info that if you can waddle over and sit on your bike, then you aren't too heavy - well, on further research, it turns out thats not exactly the case, and my initial suspicions have been confirmed. You CAN be too heavy to be on a bicycle - that isnt properly constructed for the additional weight. There are companies that actually make bicycles with heavy duty tires and frames, that will not catastrophically fail under weights of over 200 pounds or so! It turns out having a mountain bike is a better compromise because they are built to withstand a beating. Assuming you can handle their unique and less than comfortable form factors, given a prodigious frame of your own.
Well, I haven't given up entirely on the old bike - but she has lost quite a bit of her golden gleam since my last writing about her. If I feel unstable on the bike, I just can't ride it. But I will see what I can do, since the option does not presently exist to purchase a bike more suitable to my current abilities and size...
But if I could buy that bike - I think Im going for a cruiser - something with fenders over the chain and gears (so jeans can be worn without fear of having them torn off in the gears), and with a more upright position. A less fiddly bike, like the kind we all used to tool about on as kids. Easy riding, no muss, no fuss. THATS for me! Give me a PeeWee Herman bike any ol' day. Leave the fiddly bikes for the weekend warriors who don't mind various flesh wounds and minor bone fractures!
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Fat Sick and Nearly Dead - A Movie Review
I have read many reviews about the movie Fat Sick and Nearly Dead. Some positive reviews, some negative reviews. Comments in negative reviews include bias towards one kind of diet, cherry-picking doctors that support juice fasting, and a tone that is similar to a late-night commercial pitch. The movie is a documentary that follows two men, Joe Cross and Phil Staples, through a 60-day juice fast. Joe Cross is well-to-do, and is the brainchild of this film. Phil Staples is a truck driver from Iowa.
Yes, the movie is biased, being that it is a documentary about the experiences of two individual men. It is not a survey of a cross section of a population. It is the following of two men trying a specific diet to remedy a specific problem - obesity. On the matter of doctor interviews in the film, the doctors appearing are the ones tasked with following the two men on the fast. Of course they would be choosing doctors who are on the same page with the drastic diet they have chosen to attempt. I too would seek out the doctors I know will support me on my chosen course of treatment. I think while watching the film, it is important to remember that it documents (hence documentary) the experiences of two men. It is not a documentary in the spirit of a neutral news program.
I do however, have trouble with the fact that the film does slant towards commercial pitch at times. The ever present high-speed Breville juicer becomes distracting from the critical message of the film and I felt a subtle bit of mistrust in Cross. Was the man more interested in helping others, or in pitching the Breville juicer? At no time did Mr. Cross actually pitch the Breville, or even mention the make and model of the juicer. I did find it distracting however, knowing there is a better technology (slow-juicing) available. I was looking for a mailing address or website at the end of the film for the Breville company, but there was none, and I was glad for that. Unfortunately, on the Fat Sick and Nearly Dead website, prominent on that page, is a pitch to purchase Breville juicers. Well, I guess one can't fault Cross - who is a businessman, after all, from monetizing his website beyond simply marketing the film.
My general opinion of the film is this: It documents one kind of treatment (or diet) that works. It works miracles. The juice fast is nothing new. Cross did not invent it. I'm sure many of you remember the "Juiceman" infomercial - the juicer was pitched by addictively hyperactive Juiceman Jay Kordich back in the early 1990s. Regardless of the pitchmen and the innate distrust we feel regarding their sincerity, the reality is this: to aggressively tackle obesity, a juice fast works. The issue is not if subsisting on a diet consisting solely of fresh vegetable and fruit juices will result in loss of excessive weight and help to get obesity related diseases under control. It does do that. The issue is with the ability of the individual. Can you stick with the program? Are you likely to fall back into a food addiction? Are you able to do the work associated with juicing? And when it is time to go back to a diet of solid foods, can you keep from sliding back into bad eating habits? But these issues remain regardless of the methods we use to get a handle on a weight problem. These are not reasons to condemn any single treatment method.
There are other diets that work as well, if simply losing weight is the goal without regard to further damage to health. But to retrain your tastebuds, break food addictions, and build up your vitality and health rather than compromise it further in the process, the juice fast works. More than Cross, Staples is a testament to that.
Yes, the movie is biased, being that it is a documentary about the experiences of two individual men. It is not a survey of a cross section of a population. It is the following of two men trying a specific diet to remedy a specific problem - obesity. On the matter of doctor interviews in the film, the doctors appearing are the ones tasked with following the two men on the fast. Of course they would be choosing doctors who are on the same page with the drastic diet they have chosen to attempt. I too would seek out the doctors I know will support me on my chosen course of treatment. I think while watching the film, it is important to remember that it documents (hence documentary) the experiences of two men. It is not a documentary in the spirit of a neutral news program.
I do however, have trouble with the fact that the film does slant towards commercial pitch at times. The ever present high-speed Breville juicer becomes distracting from the critical message of the film and I felt a subtle bit of mistrust in Cross. Was the man more interested in helping others, or in pitching the Breville juicer? At no time did Mr. Cross actually pitch the Breville, or even mention the make and model of the juicer. I did find it distracting however, knowing there is a better technology (slow-juicing) available. I was looking for a mailing address or website at the end of the film for the Breville company, but there was none, and I was glad for that. Unfortunately, on the Fat Sick and Nearly Dead website, prominent on that page, is a pitch to purchase Breville juicers. Well, I guess one can't fault Cross - who is a businessman, after all, from monetizing his website beyond simply marketing the film.
My general opinion of the film is this: It documents one kind of treatment (or diet) that works. It works miracles. The juice fast is nothing new. Cross did not invent it. I'm sure many of you remember the "Juiceman" infomercial - the juicer was pitched by addictively hyperactive Juiceman Jay Kordich back in the early 1990s. Regardless of the pitchmen and the innate distrust we feel regarding their sincerity, the reality is this: to aggressively tackle obesity, a juice fast works. The issue is not if subsisting on a diet consisting solely of fresh vegetable and fruit juices will result in loss of excessive weight and help to get obesity related diseases under control. It does do that. The issue is with the ability of the individual. Can you stick with the program? Are you likely to fall back into a food addiction? Are you able to do the work associated with juicing? And when it is time to go back to a diet of solid foods, can you keep from sliding back into bad eating habits? But these issues remain regardless of the methods we use to get a handle on a weight problem. These are not reasons to condemn any single treatment method.
There are other diets that work as well, if simply losing weight is the goal without regard to further damage to health. But to retrain your tastebuds, break food addictions, and build up your vitality and health rather than compromise it further in the process, the juice fast works. More than Cross, Staples is a testament to that.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
The Old Mountain Bike - My Golden Beauty
I have an old mountain bike. Its a sweet little ride. By little, I mean, a 13.5 inch frame, for a little 5' 2" woman - me! I could probably use a 13 inch frame, but what does it matter, when I haven't been on my bike in over 8 or so years! I love that bike. Its a Specialized Rock Hopper, with a factory-original metallic gold finish. about 6 years ago, my bike was stolen from my garage and thrown down a 40 foot wooded embankment for a fast getaway. I noticed right away on that morning that my bike had been stolen. It was January and there was a fresh thin coating of powdery snow over everything - the pavement, the grass - I was able to follow the tracks of my bike as well as the cheap sneaker prints of the two thieves for over a mile until the track went dead over a well traveled roadway. It was a horrible feeling. I filed the appropriate forms with the police. End of story. Or not...
Later that year, on a March night, I decided for no particular reason to go down a side street in a seedier part of my city, on the way to the grocery store. This was a total, random, last minute turn, for no reason. I noticed a group of teenagers hanging out in front of a run down tenement building. There were about 12 or so kids, aged around 16-19 years old. And there.... there in the group... was one young man of about 17 with the most beautiful bike I had ever seen. MY bike. My golden rock hopper. There were never many of these bikes made, and it was an older model to begin with. Yes, as sure as the sun sets in the west, that was MY bike. I cant even describe the absolute shock and rush of emotions as I saw this. I had no cell phone on me at the time. I casually drove down the road, and then as soon as I was out of sight, SPED like a bat out of hell to the nearest place I could find that might have a phone. I went to a local corner store and like a crazed woman who just witnessed the crime of the century, blurted out "I NEED TO USE YOUR PHONE! ITS AN EMERGENCY!!" The poor clerk who didn't speak English too well, fumbled the hand set to me as quick as could be and dialed the police. I could barely get the words out fast enough. "QUICK! WILLOW STREET! BIKE! MINE!!! STOLEN! HURRY, oh PLEASE HURRY!" The dispatcher of course, tried to get me calm. I repeated - PLEASE send a car to Willow Street now! Im going there now! And I hung up. I knew the dispatcher wasn't about to ignore THAT call! So I sped back to the scene of the crime, and lurked around the corner at the nearest intersection until a cop car came down the street. I beamed the police car, then rolled in front of him slowly, and pulled over in front of the kids, who all looked like deer in the headlights. I explained to the police that the bike was mine, and was stolen a few months back. The officer promptly went over, grabbed the bicycle and put it in his trunk, and then grabbed the kid and put HIM in his backseat. Back at the station, after witnessing a very angry father come looking for his kid that he was going to kill, I had the sweet sweet reunion with my little golden Rockhopper. A bike I figured had long since been stripped for parts, and the unwanted portions consigned to the depths of the Blackstone River. Oh my sweet little golden beauty. She was abused, ridden hard, had some dings - but she was a mountain bike, and she could handle it.
But the story turns sad again. This time, I put the bike down in my basement and covered her with a sheet to protect her from any prying thieving eyes. And there she sat, home to spiders, for 6 so years. In the dark corner of the basement. Until yesterday. I took her out. I want to go to the gym, two miles away. Planet Fitness, 10 dollars a month, and within my puny budget. But as sad as this is, 4 miles (2 there and 2 back) several times a week, adds up with gas. I want to go to the gym to exercise, why not also exercise going there and back, and save some money doing it. Now, Im not fooling myself. I know I won't be biking there every day, or even an occasional day any time soon. I need to build up that bicycling stamina so that its not just THE exercise, but a mode of transport to THE exercise. For now, I will be content to tool around the block a few times to get my bicycle muscles used to the idea.
So out came the old book on maintaining your mountain bike. Out came the old tire levers, the old pump and the manuals, the bike chain spray, the aerodynamic Giro bike helmet, and the bike lock. I have had the key to that lock with my other house keys for over a decade. Even though I didn't ride the bike, for close to a decade, even though I had lost all hope of finding her during the period of thievery, I couldn't take the key off my chain. There was something about that, that was too final. So the key, worn and rounded on the edges, worn to the base brass metal, remains. I put it in the lock, and turned it. It was a great feeling. I took my bike out into the light and looked it over good, the first time since it returned to me. I swept away the cobwebs, and I inflated the tires. I brought her out into the driveway, and climbed on. Theres that saying about remembering old things - "Its like riding a bicycle - you never forget". Well, I thought for sure I must be getting senile because I forgot! I was wobbling all over, couldn't even get my foot up onto a pedal without feeling I was going to keel right over. It took me several tries before I realized the problem wasn't my memory, but the bike. The IDIOT who made off with my bike had ratcheted the seat post all the way down to its base. Like some kind of strange low-rider. NOT at all set to an appropriate height. I have no idea how the kid even rode the bike like that, unless he handed it off to some 4 foot tall 8 year old or something. So when I finally figured that out, it was easy enough to reset the post with the quick release lever, and then I was riding fine. Almost... I need to check out that manual to make sure it is set just right.
So now the seat was at a reasonable height, the tires had air, and I got the gears straightened out (The chain is still full of grit and needs a good cleaning and lubricating before I do any serious riding). I rode up and down my street - about a total of 500 feet - once. I had other things to do for the day - laundry, and preparing for an interview later that evening (thats another post). So I had to put my lovely golden girl back under her sheet for the day. I put her in the garage. Under the sheet. I hope she is safe...
This was Monday. Yesterday (Tuesday), I had muscles in my legs doing their own little exotic dances - spasming and writhing, cramping and twitching - my thighs, my calves, the tendon that attaches the front of the foot to the leg. I had to laugh. It was painful, but not the kind of pain that kills. At one point, a long muscle in my inner thigh tightened up like a taught bow - I couldn't stand up straight - I was shuffling about the house, bent over like a little old lady, ouching and laughing at the same time.
It is now Wednesday morning. Those muscles are STILL sore and tight! I want to get back on that bike. I might go another 500 feet down my street.
You might be wondering - why didn't I take the bike out sooner? Well, heres why. I thought I was too fat to ride it. I thought the tires might burst, or the frame might bend! Heres a bike meant to go bombing through rocky, log strewn forest, and I was seriously worried about damaging it with my prodigious frame. I actually had to do a web search about "too fat to ride a bike"- and had a bunch of results spit back at me that the only way you can be too fat to ride a bike, is if your size makes it impossible for you to waddle over and climb onto it. I can do that, so I have no excuse. I CAN ride my golden beauty, and if anyone wants to have a laugh at the fact that I look like one of the McGuire twins tooling down the road, well, Im glad to bring some laughter into someone's life. But as long as my leg muscles aren't doing an exotic dance I have no control over, I WILL be crawling back up on that bike! And thats all I have to say about that....
Later that year, on a March night, I decided for no particular reason to go down a side street in a seedier part of my city, on the way to the grocery store. This was a total, random, last minute turn, for no reason. I noticed a group of teenagers hanging out in front of a run down tenement building. There were about 12 or so kids, aged around 16-19 years old. And there.... there in the group... was one young man of about 17 with the most beautiful bike I had ever seen. MY bike. My golden rock hopper. There were never many of these bikes made, and it was an older model to begin with. Yes, as sure as the sun sets in the west, that was MY bike. I cant even describe the absolute shock and rush of emotions as I saw this. I had no cell phone on me at the time. I casually drove down the road, and then as soon as I was out of sight, SPED like a bat out of hell to the nearest place I could find that might have a phone. I went to a local corner store and like a crazed woman who just witnessed the crime of the century, blurted out "I NEED TO USE YOUR PHONE! ITS AN EMERGENCY!!" The poor clerk who didn't speak English too well, fumbled the hand set to me as quick as could be and dialed the police. I could barely get the words out fast enough. "QUICK! WILLOW STREET! BIKE! MINE!!! STOLEN! HURRY, oh PLEASE HURRY!" The dispatcher of course, tried to get me calm. I repeated - PLEASE send a car to Willow Street now! Im going there now! And I hung up. I knew the dispatcher wasn't about to ignore THAT call! So I sped back to the scene of the crime, and lurked around the corner at the nearest intersection until a cop car came down the street. I beamed the police car, then rolled in front of him slowly, and pulled over in front of the kids, who all looked like deer in the headlights. I explained to the police that the bike was mine, and was stolen a few months back. The officer promptly went over, grabbed the bicycle and put it in his trunk, and then grabbed the kid and put HIM in his backseat. Back at the station, after witnessing a very angry father come looking for his kid that he was going to kill, I had the sweet sweet reunion with my little golden Rockhopper. A bike I figured had long since been stripped for parts, and the unwanted portions consigned to the depths of the Blackstone River. Oh my sweet little golden beauty. She was abused, ridden hard, had some dings - but she was a mountain bike, and she could handle it.
But the story turns sad again. This time, I put the bike down in my basement and covered her with a sheet to protect her from any prying thieving eyes. And there she sat, home to spiders, for 6 so years. In the dark corner of the basement. Until yesterday. I took her out. I want to go to the gym, two miles away. Planet Fitness, 10 dollars a month, and within my puny budget. But as sad as this is, 4 miles (2 there and 2 back) several times a week, adds up with gas. I want to go to the gym to exercise, why not also exercise going there and back, and save some money doing it. Now, Im not fooling myself. I know I won't be biking there every day, or even an occasional day any time soon. I need to build up that bicycling stamina so that its not just THE exercise, but a mode of transport to THE exercise. For now, I will be content to tool around the block a few times to get my bicycle muscles used to the idea.
So out came the old book on maintaining your mountain bike. Out came the old tire levers, the old pump and the manuals, the bike chain spray, the aerodynamic Giro bike helmet, and the bike lock. I have had the key to that lock with my other house keys for over a decade. Even though I didn't ride the bike, for close to a decade, even though I had lost all hope of finding her during the period of thievery, I couldn't take the key off my chain. There was something about that, that was too final. So the key, worn and rounded on the edges, worn to the base brass metal, remains. I put it in the lock, and turned it. It was a great feeling. I took my bike out into the light and looked it over good, the first time since it returned to me. I swept away the cobwebs, and I inflated the tires. I brought her out into the driveway, and climbed on. Theres that saying about remembering old things - "Its like riding a bicycle - you never forget". Well, I thought for sure I must be getting senile because I forgot! I was wobbling all over, couldn't even get my foot up onto a pedal without feeling I was going to keel right over. It took me several tries before I realized the problem wasn't my memory, but the bike. The IDIOT who made off with my bike had ratcheted the seat post all the way down to its base. Like some kind of strange low-rider. NOT at all set to an appropriate height. I have no idea how the kid even rode the bike like that, unless he handed it off to some 4 foot tall 8 year old or something. So when I finally figured that out, it was easy enough to reset the post with the quick release lever, and then I was riding fine. Almost... I need to check out that manual to make sure it is set just right.
So now the seat was at a reasonable height, the tires had air, and I got the gears straightened out (The chain is still full of grit and needs a good cleaning and lubricating before I do any serious riding). I rode up and down my street - about a total of 500 feet - once. I had other things to do for the day - laundry, and preparing for an interview later that evening (thats another post). So I had to put my lovely golden girl back under her sheet for the day. I put her in the garage. Under the sheet. I hope she is safe...
This was Monday. Yesterday (Tuesday), I had muscles in my legs doing their own little exotic dances - spasming and writhing, cramping and twitching - my thighs, my calves, the tendon that attaches the front of the foot to the leg. I had to laugh. It was painful, but not the kind of pain that kills. At one point, a long muscle in my inner thigh tightened up like a taught bow - I couldn't stand up straight - I was shuffling about the house, bent over like a little old lady, ouching and laughing at the same time.
It is now Wednesday morning. Those muscles are STILL sore and tight! I want to get back on that bike. I might go another 500 feet down my street.
You might be wondering - why didn't I take the bike out sooner? Well, heres why. I thought I was too fat to ride it. I thought the tires might burst, or the frame might bend! Heres a bike meant to go bombing through rocky, log strewn forest, and I was seriously worried about damaging it with my prodigious frame. I actually had to do a web search about "too fat to ride a bike"- and had a bunch of results spit back at me that the only way you can be too fat to ride a bike, is if your size makes it impossible for you to waddle over and climb onto it. I can do that, so I have no excuse. I CAN ride my golden beauty, and if anyone wants to have a laugh at the fact that I look like one of the McGuire twins tooling down the road, well, Im glad to bring some laughter into someone's life. But as long as my leg muscles aren't doing an exotic dance I have no control over, I WILL be crawling back up on that bike! And thats all I have to say about that....
 |
| McGuire Twins |
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Once upon a time...
There was an energetic, youthful, and healthy woman. The ravages of time, and a typical American diet took their toll. Until that young woman found herself Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead. Yes, this is me - look just to the right, and there I am. It aint pretty. My name is Rachel. I live in Rhode Island. I want you to know that it was VERY difficult for me to post the "before" images you see on the right. I wasn't always so hard on the eyes. I have a great deal of shame about my appearance, but underneath the poor health and fat is a good, kindhearted and generally all around decent person.
I run from cameras. Its difficult to find family photos of me since I have put on the weight. If you are struggling with a weight problem, I'm sure you can relate! I built up the courage to put myself out there and bare all in the hopes that my struggles can help others.
The title of this blog is an allusion to the recently released documentary movie "Fat Sick and Nearly Dead" by Joe Cross. In this movie, Joe, a wealthy Aussie with health issues of his own, leaves the Land Down Under and comes to New York to embark on a 60-day fresh juice fast to reboot his body and taste buds. Why did he choose New York City to take on such an ascetic, albeit temporary, lifestyle? My opinion is that the man has a masochistic streak! Surrounded by hot dog stands, big greasy New York style pizza, food trucks, and gourmet food of every kind wafting through the air, Joe starts his juice fast. At one point in the beginning of his juice fast he even walks into a pizza place - just to look! Yep... masochistic tendencies!
I've read piles of books on food and its consumption. The psychology of food, the sociology of food, the politics of food, the science of food, and the diets. Atkins, South Beach, Ornish. All have thier merits. But there has always been one big issue. My own ability to make the change. As you know, changing habits is hard. Very hard. I have been having starts and stops towards my weight struggles now for about two decades. I wasn't always overweight. It started in my mid 20s when I started soothing negative emotions, ANY negative emotions - with "comfort food". A diet heavy on carbs and processed foods and practically devoid of fruits and vegetables, started to kick in, despite my active lifestyle.
So here I am now - 42, and my life is a complete disaster. I am on disability due to depression, I have the start of Type II diabetes and neuropathy (my toes are numb), I have high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and high triglycerides. I have a compromised immune system due to my overall poor health. This compromised immune system allows bacteria that is common and all around us to wreak havoc with my skin (slow healing lesions on my face, arms, and back), and has also caused me to be on an intravenous line for two months to fight off an infection that was eating away my shoulder joint last summer. An infection my immune system should have been able to fight off.
Well, enough is enough. In my early 30s I tried to add a bit of fresh juice in my diet with a high speed juicer popular at the time. It was loud, and very wasteful. It ejected too much "juicy" pulp. But the juice was delicious, and I did notice improvements fairly quickly. My health wasn't as bad as now, and I gave up the juicer due to the noise (I had housemates) and the wastefulness. There are new juicers today - they are very quiet. They are called slow-juicers. They do not heat up the juice, and the pulp that is extracted is very dry - like play-doh.
The juicers used in Sick Fat and Nearly Dead are fast juicers. There are better juicers on the market for a comparable price. I am hoping to get my hands on a Hurom slow juicer to start my 60 day juice fast. I cannot afford to buy this juicer (retails at appx. $360.00 on Amazon.com) because I have very little money and am unemployed and on disability (to be discussed in future posts). I live on $700 a month, and an additional $200.00 a month in food assistance. This is why I have put up a donation link. Please, dear reader, any small donation would be greatly appreciated to get me towards my goal. Once I have earned the money to purchase the juicer, I can start my journey and blog about what it is like living on juice for 60 days, post neat juice recipes, and post updated photos of my body as it changes. I do hope you can help, and I hope I can inspire you! Until I have raised the money I need to purchase the juicer, I will post about my food battles.. about how I came to be here and where I have been. Thank you for reading, and stay with me. I hope I can help you in some way to regain YOUR health! Your friend, -Rachel
I run from cameras. Its difficult to find family photos of me since I have put on the weight. If you are struggling with a weight problem, I'm sure you can relate! I built up the courage to put myself out there and bare all in the hopes that my struggles can help others.
The title of this blog is an allusion to the recently released documentary movie "Fat Sick and Nearly Dead" by Joe Cross. In this movie, Joe, a wealthy Aussie with health issues of his own, leaves the Land Down Under and comes to New York to embark on a 60-day fresh juice fast to reboot his body and taste buds. Why did he choose New York City to take on such an ascetic, albeit temporary, lifestyle? My opinion is that the man has a masochistic streak! Surrounded by hot dog stands, big greasy New York style pizza, food trucks, and gourmet food of every kind wafting through the air, Joe starts his juice fast. At one point in the beginning of his juice fast he even walks into a pizza place - just to look! Yep... masochistic tendencies!
I've read piles of books on food and its consumption. The psychology of food, the sociology of food, the politics of food, the science of food, and the diets. Atkins, South Beach, Ornish. All have thier merits. But there has always been one big issue. My own ability to make the change. As you know, changing habits is hard. Very hard. I have been having starts and stops towards my weight struggles now for about two decades. I wasn't always overweight. It started in my mid 20s when I started soothing negative emotions, ANY negative emotions - with "comfort food". A diet heavy on carbs and processed foods and practically devoid of fruits and vegetables, started to kick in, despite my active lifestyle.
So here I am now - 42, and my life is a complete disaster. I am on disability due to depression, I have the start of Type II diabetes and neuropathy (my toes are numb), I have high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and high triglycerides. I have a compromised immune system due to my overall poor health. This compromised immune system allows bacteria that is common and all around us to wreak havoc with my skin (slow healing lesions on my face, arms, and back), and has also caused me to be on an intravenous line for two months to fight off an infection that was eating away my shoulder joint last summer. An infection my immune system should have been able to fight off.
Well, enough is enough. In my early 30s I tried to add a bit of fresh juice in my diet with a high speed juicer popular at the time. It was loud, and very wasteful. It ejected too much "juicy" pulp. But the juice was delicious, and I did notice improvements fairly quickly. My health wasn't as bad as now, and I gave up the juicer due to the noise (I had housemates) and the wastefulness. There are new juicers today - they are very quiet. They are called slow-juicers. They do not heat up the juice, and the pulp that is extracted is very dry - like play-doh.
The juicers used in Sick Fat and Nearly Dead are fast juicers. There are better juicers on the market for a comparable price. I am hoping to get my hands on a Hurom slow juicer to start my 60 day juice fast. I cannot afford to buy this juicer (retails at appx. $360.00 on Amazon.com) because I have very little money and am unemployed and on disability (to be discussed in future posts). I live on $700 a month, and an additional $200.00 a month in food assistance. This is why I have put up a donation link. Please, dear reader, any small donation would be greatly appreciated to get me towards my goal. Once I have earned the money to purchase the juicer, I can start my journey and blog about what it is like living on juice for 60 days, post neat juice recipes, and post updated photos of my body as it changes. I do hope you can help, and I hope I can inspire you! Until I have raised the money I need to purchase the juicer, I will post about my food battles.. about how I came to be here and where I have been. Thank you for reading, and stay with me. I hope I can help you in some way to regain YOUR health! Your friend, -Rachel
Fears
This is the first day I post to this blog and I find myself obsessively looking at stats and any comments, to see if anyone is visiting. I have fears that I don't know what I'm doing, that the blog looks amateurish, that people won't read or care. I have urges to continue to change things around, and feel downright incompetent when I look at the blogs of others. I'm driving myself to distraction trying to figure out how people will even find this blog to read it! I've looked at the blogger site for ways to search for other people's blogs, but can't find a way to do it. Is finding other peoples blogs just a hit-or-miss thing? More questions than answers right now about the technical aspects of being a proud new owner of a bouncing baby blog! Any suggestions are welcome and appreciated. Also, just because Im not sure how this works, and I hope to post several images in the future, this is just a test image within this posting... here goes!
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| The Answer to the American Obesity Epidemic |
Well, that was easy enough! Can't wait to juice these babies and then figure out how to make veggie crackers with the dried out pulp!
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