100 pounds lost. A reflection.
This week I officially hit the 100 pound weight loss club. Spoiler alert: It’s not an actual club. No clubhouse and no secret handshake. At least not that I am yet aware of.
As friends have learned about my accomplishment, I have had a couple ask me how it feels to have lost 100 pounds. And I don’t really know how to answer.
I want to say it feels fabulous. I want to tell them how awesome I feel. I want to extrapolate on the health benefits I am seeing both physically and mentally.
But I am hung up on something bigger.
I let myself get to the point where I needed to lose over 100 pounds.
In this truth lies the complexity of the triumph.
I started running while on this weight-loss journey. I have run several races and have signed up for many more. Every race so far I have had a faster time than the previous race. I want to shout my PRs from the roof top. I earned those. I am taking myself to new places I have never been before. I was never a runner and now I am. That makes me feel fabulous.
But reflecting on the 100 pounds lost yet only being a pound lighter than my lightest adult weight… It means I was a failure in the past. I let myself gain those 99 pounds. I treated my body terribly. I hurt myself and now I am making reparations.
Yes, I could say that “hey at least I caught it and am doing something about it” but in all honesty I feel like that’s a cop-out right now. I am instead choosing to use this time to reflect on the why and the how. Not why and how I lost the weight but on the gains. I think it is important to reflect on the reasons I gained so that I don’t repeat my mistakes.
So while I am happy to have finally hit this milestone and I don’t want to dwell on the negative, I am holding off on celebrating. I am realistically approaching the accomplishment. I still have many pounds to lose until I am at a healthy weight. The reparations are being made and the real journey is just beginning.
A review of the HMR Diet: Six Months Decision Free and #HMRStrong
If someone had told me seven months ago that I would be eating prepackaged entress and shake packets as my sole form of food, I would have laughed you out of the room.
If someone had told me seven months ago that I would be running a sub-10:00 mile and swimming a mile, I would have looked at you like it was a pipe dream. “Someday… maybe….” But my heart would ache because I would doubt that I had the ability to ever pull it out.
If someone had told me seven months ago that I would be down almost 90 lbs after six months, I would have asked what limbs would I be losing in the process.
I was recently asked why I decided to take a drastic move in my life starting HMR and all of my physical training. Why now? What prompted this move?
If you have known me for years then you will know that I have had a series of struggles with my health. I gained a significant amount of weight right out of high school. I continued to put on weight when I started teaching and commuting 90+ minutes each way to work. I then lost some of that weight in 2006 counting points but some significant events in my life brought back the stress eating and the pounds. I attempted to learn to run in 2009 and lost a bit of weight but improper training and an injury uncovered bigger health issues. All the while I half-assed various diets in an attempt to both control my health but also my weight. Finally, I gave up on all of it and just “enjoyed life” while the pounds piled on.
This past summer we took a cross-country road trip. And roadside hikes that should have been easy were extremely difficult. We went to Hawaii and I felt limited in everything I attempted. I was constantly out of air. I got tired easily. I didn’t find physical activity pleasurable because I wasn’t fit and was carrying so much extra weight. Multiple people in my life passed away in the months leading up to my starting HMR and many were due to weight related health issues. I had trouble sleeping at night worrying that every ache and pain was a sign I was next.
A friend had recently gotten weight loss surgery and I was seriously contemplating it after hearing about her experience. However I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it until the summer at the earliest and we were just a couple months into the school year. So I went to my medical group’s Web site and looked at what programs they were offering to help. I saw orientations for HMR and thought “well it couldn’t hurt to check it out?”
At the time I was opposed to processed food. I wanted to lose weight on my own. I wanted to do it naturally. I was judgey-mcjudergerson about everything I thought HMR stood for. I thought “well even if I lose any weight I won’t learn how to keep it off and it will come right back on.” I had tried Jenny Craig and Nutrisystem so I was *obviously* an expert about meal replacement diets… Ha!
However I forced myself to enter the medical offices with an open mind. After all, I had kind of sucked at doing it on my own. Despite years of weight loss meetings and web sites and books and talks, I was at my heaviest weight ever. I ate more veggies than most people I knew but along with that ate and drank super high calorie foods and considered 20 minutes on the elliptical as an intense workout. In other words, I knew I needed help and I wasn’t afraid to ask for it.
At that orientation meeting, I began to understand that the HMR Diet would be a major overhaul to my social lifestyle. No alcohol? No outside foods? A WEEKLY meeting? I work over 80 hours some weeks… where was I going to fit all of this in?
But something inside of me said that I could do it. That my life depended on it.
So I drove straight from the orientation to speak to my doctor. She said I should try it. She had been an HMR doctor at a previous practice. She thought it would be harder than surgery but it would be good to do it, even as a precursor to surgery, to learn healthier habits. And so I went in for all the lab work.
As a high school student, I didn’t follow good study habits. However as a high school teacher I have learned a few things about setting myself up for success. And so I spent the couple of weeks between orientation and the first night of class preparing my environment, talking to those closest to me, and mentally preparing myself. Confession: I also had a number of “last meals” where I ate whatever I wanted and committed those tastes and textures to memory. I will write more about preparing to begin in a future post but the process itself really set me up for a successful journey.
I have social anxiety. I get nervous in new situations and meeting new people. But luckily I have an amazing health educator, a fabulous clinic full of super positive staff, and a class that had some really nice and positive people in it to provide a safe and supportive environment. The clinic is my safe haven. The first couple months I would show up an hour early sometimes to protect myself from wandering off to a drive-thru because I didn’t know how to spend that hour. I cannot stress how that support helped me get through some tough time. When I felt judgement from others for taking on this diet, I knew I had a judgement free zone.
Judgement is a big thing on this diet. Because you isolate yourself from outside foods, people feel like they can make all sorts of snide and snarky comments to you. I am not open about being on this diet, both because I don’t want my diet to define me, but also because I want to spare myself the nasty comments. If someone asks and seems interested, I will tell them about it. But unlike previous diets where I would declare to everyone what I was doing, I started this one quietly and have remained relatively quiet about it. However through my health classes I have learned how to empower myself and to deal with some of the comments. I know I will have more to face along the journey, but I am building a toolbox of responses.
Cost is the other big hang up for many people on this diet. Yes, the medical tests and supervision is pricey and yes the shakes and entrees cost money. The gym, training sessions, new clothes all cost money as well. You know what else costs money? All the bad food I was eating. All the medical bills I paid. All the unproductive hours where I couldn’t focus and didn’t get things done that needed to be finished. And losing my life day by day to my obesity was the most expensive part of my life. So yes I have depleted some of my savings but I also know I am saving money in the long run. I also know that the improved quality of life is worth the investment. And honestly, I just cut out a bunch of crap I had been wasting it on. Even at happy hour prices those beer and french fry orders add up!
Over the last six months I have been on the road more than half the weekends. I have attended galas and other social events. I have run multiple races. Attended family events. Tried a variety of fitness opportunities. Struggled through exhaustion and stress. Celebrated life and mourned loss. In other words, I have lived. And I have lived “in the box.”
I will be honest. It has not always been easy. And it is getting harder. Because as I see results and feel stronger, I question why I am still in the box. I miss outside food. I feel like I can take a cheat meal… But I won’t. As long as I stay in the box, I am working towards my final goal. This time is truly different and I don’t want to give myself an excuse to halt the journey before I finish it.
I am on a lifelong journey of living the best possible life I can. I believe in myself and my inner strength. And while life happens, I am building skills to pursue health and happiness in spite of life obstacles. It takes dedication and a sense of purpose. But it also takes faith in whatever diet program you choose to pursue. The HMR Diet does work, if you put in the work. I am #HMRStrong.
Losing *only* two pounds … A 19-week reflection on the HMR Diet
Last night was my 133rd day staying “in the box” on the HMR Decision Free diet.
On my first night of class, my health educator showed us a graph. It showed data that the longer a person stayed “in the box” (eating only HMR food), the higher the likelihood they would stick with the program and the average amount of weight lost. The data included everything from the probability of success if you “cheated” the first week all the way up to 19 weeks.
So I bought a small white board and decorated it with permanent marker after calculating how many days were in 19 weeks. I then used a white board marker to update the number of the board. And then I set that board where I would see it every time I entered the kitchen. I also kept some helpful tools within reach, as you can see in the photo.
The first few weeks, it was struggle each day to stay in the box. But knowing I would have to reset that number was motivation to keep going. And changing the board felt like a triumphant win!
Eventually, I stopped updating each day and would change it every couple of days. However on a difficult day, the visual was a good reminder of how far I have come and how I didn’t want to reset the board after so much work.
Today is my 134th day on the diet. I still plan on keeping the board alive, but I am in the process of setting new goals. Goals to keep me going.
Because I can’t rely on the scale for motivation.
When I get on the scale at the clinic, I try to imagine what the new number will be. In the beginning there were huge jumps most weeks. Some were two or three pounds but many were four to six. And I knew logically that it would slow down as I had less to lose and my body adjusted to a lower-calorie diet.
The last three weeks I have lost one pound, four pounds, and then two pounds. In the real world, losing seven pounds in three weeks is a big deal. And I know I would have been so happy on previous diets with that loss. Yet last night, with a two pound loss on the scale, I felt disappointment.
Practical me knows that this process is going to be an ultra-marathon. That it’s a lifestyle change. That it won’t happen over night. And that I have works for 19 weeks but I knew going in that it would be a much longer process. Finally, I know that I have gotten stronger and have had so many non-scale victories that I should dance with joy.
Today I begin the process of setting new long-term non-scale goals. From fitness goals I am currently working on, to food based goals I need to figure out. I am determined to succeed one day at a time.
60 Days on HMR
Wikimedia Commons Source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Golden_Maki_Rainbow_Roll_sushi.jpg
It has been 60 days since I last ate sushi. Sushi was my go-to food. It was my friend. My comfort. And let’s face it… it was really really good!
I won’t lie. I miss it like crazy. So much that I bought nori to try to make my own out of HMR entrees. Well, until I found out nori wasn’t in the box. So now the nori sits and waits.
Every time I crave sushi, I think about why. Do I miss the texture? The flavors? The feelings that I associate with sushi? I swear if I were ever to fall out of “the box” it would probably be into a sushi boat.
The truth is I miss everything. But I know it will be there for me when I meet my goal. And while I feel deprived now, I know I am learning so much more about myself. I know that I eat for comfort as well as nourishment. I eat for flavor and texture and not just because I am hungry.
And while 60 days may seem like a long time, it will be a lot longer before sushi and I can sit down and enjoy each other’s company. Until I not only get to a healthier weight but also have learned to control the yearning for nigiri and maki and sashimi, this reunion will not occur.
All or Nothing
I am not a perfectionist but I am repelled by the idea of doing something half-assed. If you are going to do it, do it right and give it everything you have. Otherwise what’s the point?
Physical activity (PA) is an important component in any healthy lifestyle a and especially one focused on weight loss. And when people talk about starting an exercise regime they say to start small and to count the little things.
I hate listening to those people. I know walking for ten minutes is better than not walking. But guess what, increasing your speed and elevation and time does? It burns even more calories. It accomplishes more. It’s giving yourself fully to the commitment.
My HMR educator has been fighting me on this concept. Pushing me to realize that some days you need to go in slow short spurts of activity. You need to anticipate injury recovery or hard days. And my rational debate coach brain acknowledges his arguments, applies them to “other people,” and even reflects on my own injuries that seriously derailed my physical activity several times during my life. He is right.
But a large part of my psyche refuses to apply his logic to my own actions. Ten minutes of walking does not add up to very many calories and so I don’t write it down. Again.
I am not sure why I fight this so hard but maybe within that battle lies a happy medium. Count the smaller activities on those hard days but when I am able to do more do it. It doesn’t have to be all in or nothing. It can be somewhere in between.
More is Better
I feel like I have been working a second (sometimes third) job most of my life.
When asked what hobby I do on a regular basis, I am tempted to reply “I diet.”
Dieting has consumed my life for almost half of my life. I gain, I lose, I gain, I lose. The perpetual seesaw.
This new program? HMR? It’s another diet. I know I am supposed to say it is a lifestyle change but I am not there yet. Many diets I have attempted have been “lifestyle changes” but my life didn’t change.
I am working on it. Working hard to live fully in the program. To not try to calculate calories too much these first few weeks but eat my prescription and when needed to practice “more is better” which is a mantra of the program. Hungry? Eat another HMR meal.
The idea of “more is better” is counter to everything I have ever been taught about dieting. I have been constantly bombarded with what needs to be cut. The only more that was ever better was more minutes on the treadmill.
The rational part of my brain understands the justifications for the program’s “more is better” tenet. But it is a struggle some days to eat the extra and not feel guilty. I know I need to eat extra some days. I understand this is an ultra-marathon and not a lap around the track. That staying “in the box” (eating only HMR products) is how I stay on track. And by staying full, I am not tempted to binge.
All of this makes sense. But it’s a hard hurdle to jump over some days. Today is definitely one of those days.
Decision Free
My brain is absolutely overwhelmed right now. I am “Decision Free” but full of decisions.
Confused?
Me too.
After a number of diet attempts. All of the restarts. The downs and ups on the scale (mostly ups). I started to do some research. I reflected. A lot. I knew a change was needed and I knew it needed to happen now.
Doctor visits. Medical tests. All confirmed what I already knew. If I didn’t start losing weight, I was heading down a very dark path.
I like food a lot. I took a hiatus from creating and blogging food recipes on Uncovering Food because I had moved to a more urban neighborhood where every kind of food I desired was right outside of my front door. And explore my neighborhood I did… bite by bite.
I realized I had lost my focus on health, and continued to fight myself. And when we moved to a new apartment and a number of other drastic changes happened around me, I woke up.
After attempting to be the Healthy Academic for so long on my own, I admitted I needed help. Being healthy isn’t just about eating vegetables or running a 5k. Being healthy means caring for your body and ensuring that excess weight doesn’t shut parts of it down. However I realized that with so much going on in my life, my present and my history, I was going to have difficulty staying with another diet-by-my-own-design.
After screenings, meetings, and my first night of class, I am officially an active participant in the HMR Decision Free program through my doctor’s medical network. I plan on writing more about it as we progress but for now I am still overwhelmed with all of my materials and all of the parts of this medically-supervised program…
It took me two weeks to publish this initial post about HMR because I felt like I have given up so much of my identity. I feel like I have to defend my choices to myself, let alone to others. However two weeks into this program, on Thanksgiving Day, I am thankful to myself that I didn’t let pride get in my own way. That I am doing this for my wellness.
The truth of the matter is.
A reflection post.
Today I stood outside in the sun for over four hours. I stood and cheered as thousands of runners raced past. It was an emotional morning. I cheered for runners at the beginning of the journey, near the middle, and near the end. I got to see runners pumped, fledgling, and defeated. I saw them triumph, I saw their pain.
In 2009, I barely made it to the finish line of this race. I had fallen down a flight of stairs about six weeks prior to the race, not that I was in peak physical performance before then, and hurt myself. This was not my first injury, and it would not be my last. However, there was something inside of me that kept me going.
When I reached mile 8 of this race, I was near tears. By mile 9, I was looking for a medic. I sat, I iced my back, and then with ice wrapped to my back with plastic wrap, I walked. The last three miles were some of the slowest and most painful in my life. I cried. I felt alone. And I was so determined to finish what I had started.
Before I got to the finish line, I saw a woman behind me. She waved me down. She said she had been following me for the last couple of miles. That she had wanted to give up but she saw me and she knew if I could do it, so could she. We both attempted to run the last few feet to the finish. We wanted to finish strong.
December of 2009, I completed my second half. I felt strong. I was faster. I wasn’t able to run the full race but even walking, I was proud. I shaved 30 minutes off my time. I knew I was only going to get stronger.
One week later I injured my leg. I spent 2010 trying to recover from this non-running injury (if you are reading this, get your vitamin D levels checked, just trust me). I was planning on running a marathon in October where there was also to be a wedding. Then I planned on walking that marathon. And finally, on doctor’s orders, I was sidelined and cheered. I was happy to be there, but frustrated because I felt like there was more I could have done.
2011 brought on a year of discovery. Injuries from the past were beginning to heal but I had managed to put on so much weight from lack of activity and fear of injury, that becoming active again was difficult. I had lost motivation. I wasn’t eating right, I wasn’t trying to become healthier. I signed up for a half-marathon, with the hope that this would motivate me to get active. To try to recapture what I had felt two years earlier. But internal medical struggles, and my own nonchalance about my health kept me from training properly and fueling per my medical needs.
I started that race strong. But before I had even hit the 5k mark, my stomach was screaming. And as the race went on, I searched for a way to catch a ride back. By the 6th mile, I was crouched on the sidelines, trying not to give up.
After hobbling two more miles, and taking a number of breaks, my stomach finally felt better, but now old structural injuries were flaring because I had been compensating for the digestive pain. However, at this point I wasn’t going to quit. I hobbled through freezing rain and tears to the finish line. I finished and there wasn’t anyone left there to cheer for me. But I finished.
So today, I stayed. I stayed until the vehicle escorting the last three participants passed me. I cheered and I screamed. I knew the frustration in the eyes of those who had started strong and finished. I celebrated the triumph of their completion. I hope they will be able to celebrate it as well.
I am just two months away from that same race that was both my triumph and my defeat. I signed up again because I knew I needed to prove to myself that I can finish strong. But I haven’t done a single training run. I have been taking cardio classes to build my stamina, but my feet and back cry from all of the weight I have put on. I am constantly struggling between motivation and defeat.
It’s hard to get back on the horse. It’s incredibly hard to know what it was like to fly, and feel like you can barely crawl. This year, I may not participate in the race. If I am not ready, I will not go. But today motivated me to try. Because if the people crossing the finish line can do it, then dammit, so can I.
The Healthy Academic 
