"Your face is so pretty!!"

I am back home in California this week for Christmas. Yesterday I had lunch with some of my old friends, and this morning I went back to the office where I had worked for 15 years to say hello to some people. A recurring thing I kept hearing (along with "so when did you have the (weight loss) surgery?") was "your face is so pretty."
First, please understand how incredibly uncomfortable that kinda stuff makes me. I generally choose to ignore it but have learned to at least politely mutter "thank you."

But here's what I started thinking about, after having heard that over and over... Why are they saying this now? I agree that my face is less fat, but is it really that different?

Or is it that I'm so so much happier now and that shows on my face, translating to the outside world as "pretty"?

Food Should Not Be A Crisis...

Food should not be a crisis. The brilliant and insightful (and cute and skinny) Laurie said that once. And it's so true. As somebody who's been accused of having the potential to develop food issues (not of the overeating kind), I have tried to incorporate that way of thinking into my approach to eating.

But sometimes it is a crisis. Sometimes I get a screwball hurled at me when I was expecting a breaking ball. Like last night. I have traveled enough with this new lifestyle that it doesn't freak me out anymore. I know how to eat healthy on the road. I just have to put down my foot that some things are not an option. Like trying to find dinner at the gas station convenience store. Or In 'N' Out Burger. Now don't get me wrong, it's not that I'll never have another In 'N' Out Burger or disgusting roadside hot dog. But not often. And when I'll be facing a week full of situations where the food preparation will be out of my control and not something I can have prepared a specific way, I reserve the right to be insistent upon going to places where I can make healthy choices. Actually, I've EARNED that right. Or so I thought. And you'd think travelling with somebody who became a Lifetime Weight Watchers member, that wouldn't be such a challenge, right? (Well, when said person got to Lifetime by dieting and not making lifestyle changes, I can assure you, it's a problem.) And yet, I have been very specific about what I need.

So after getting off the plane, hungry and tired and heading out to the mean freeways of Los Angeles, we decide we are both hungry and need dinner. My request?
"Somewhere that I can get a salad." First suggestion: gas station. Um....no. So we get off the highway in Inglewood. Yeah, for those of you not familar with Los Angeles, I'll just say it was not where I'd tell anybody to go at night wandering around like you don't know where you're going. I tried to warn my mother. Anyway, long story short, she's starting to freak and the first and only thing we see is Del Taco.
Not familar with the Del Taco menu? For a diehard Corebie, food became an immediate crisis. (Editor's note: I'm sticking my tongue out at the thought of my Weight Watchers Leader reading this and seeing me refer to myself as a Corbie..hehe)
There is no healthy option. And don't talk to me about the taco salad being a healthy option....please.
So what did I have for dinner? Water. Yup. Water. I was going to a Weight Watchers meeting the next morning and frankly I ddin't want to eat any of that garbage and bloat up like a Macy's Thanksgiving Parade float. I was already puffy from being on the plane.
I'm kinda proud of the fact that I have a panic attack at the idea of eating complete garbage. I'm less proud of the fact that I apparently don't know how to assert myself. (Although honestly I'm not sure how much more specific "I want to go where I can get a salad" can be. But whatever. That's a whole other post.


And as a side note, I worked out this morning in front of two men. And they didn't laugh. Nor did I spontaneously combust. Hehe.

I feel like a total hypocrite...

I have wanted to post about this for awhile, but honestly I'm hesitant.

As much as I hate being judged based on my appearance, I know it's a fact of life. And I do it, too. We all do it, like it or not.

But why I feel so bad about a recent encounter, is because it may seem that my decision was based entirely on physical appearance, but it wasn't. As far as dating/relationships, I am not looking for perfection, physical or otherwise. But when the physical appearance is a symptom of a lifestyle that would not be conducive to the life I'm trying to live, I just don't think it's something I need to pursue. I don't even know if that makes sense. When you look at me, yes I'm heavy. But that's temporary. As my Weight Watchers leader says "we are fit and healthy people in the fat burning mode" and that's exactly what I am.

Case in point, I just did a workout with Karen yesterday that literally kicked my butt. (After the session I just sat on the floor for about ten minutes before my cardio funk class started.) And you know what? I know lots of thin people who could not have done what I did with Karen, let alone followed up by an hour long aerobics class. But people who don't know me or know what I do would just assume I spent the evening on the couch with a bag of Oreos.

I guess what I don't want is somebody who has a weight problem and in the phase of their life where they aren't not ready to work on it. Which is fine for them. But it sends red flags up for how it would impact MY journey. I don't want to get derailed.

So does that maybe me a hypocrite? I can't get over that feeling...

And another thing...

While I'm in such a fine mood, let me just get this off my chest.

If you ever peruse online dating sites (yeah, I admit it...I do...whatever...) you might notice something. Or you might not. I sure have. In describing themselves, I see A LOT of big men list their body type as average. Okay, so? Well, what gets me is these same men, if given the opportunity to look at pictures of women in various sizes, would see a woman with a similar BMI and not label HER average. They wouldn't even label her "a few extra pounds". Oh no. You know exactly what they'd label her. Big Mama.

Further evidence to my theory that MOST men stop emotional development at approximately age four.

Invisible at Weight Watchers??!!

So this morning, with the unveiling of the brand new Momentum plan, there were LOTS and LOTS of new faces in our meeting. One of them sat directly in front of me. I was sitting next to my friend Laurie. Cute, skinny Laurie (who may be cute and skinny, but is neither shallow nor stupid!)

So this new lady turns and starts asking Laurie questions about her weight loss success. Like starting with how she managed to eat all her vegetables. Stuff like that. Okay, I am NOT AT ALL discounting Laurie being a wealth of information in this department. AT ALL. But here's the thing. This woman literally acted like I was not even in the room. Or on the same planet. Like I was invisible. Because I'm SO HARD TO MISS. (Read: I'm NOT a small girl!)

You can argue this point with me all you want. You can tell me my interpretation is just the old fat girl "everybody's judging me because of my weight" identity rearing it's ugly head yet again. You can try, but I don't believe it for a second.

I believe...no, I'll go so far as to say I KNOW the reason this woman had no interested in even acknowledging my existence during this conversation was, (drum roll please) in her eyes, I'm just a fat girl who wouldn't have any helpful tips to share. This woman doesn't know me, hasn't been in our meetings to see that perhaps I might know. She made her judgment based on appearances. Argue with me, go ahead. Laurie even kept looking at me to acknowledge I was there. The woman did not care.

And you know what? It made me mad. REALLY MAD. And you know what else? I've seen people come and go and come and go in my time at Weight Watchers. Chances are I'll see this one go, too. Yeah, I said it. How dare you sit in judgment of me, even if it's not even something you're doing consciously, when statistics say you wont even be there that long. How dare you.

I'm done with my rant now.

I ain't no chump!!

This is a little saga about me and Spin class.

It started out several months back with my friend Jessica and my trainer Karen both suggesting I add spin to my workout routine. I cannot tell you how many times I rolled my eyes, visible to them or internally. Spin? Seriously? You have to be kidding me. There are some things in the gym reserved for the skinny girls. (Like the Step Mania class...in which you apparently have to be old and skinny, but that's another story altogether!) There is no way my big butt could do a spin class. Seriously. So stop pushing me about it. And they did. Mostly. For whatever reason, this was something that the more it was brought up, the more I dug in my heels. Wait, what do I mean 'for whatever reason'? I don't know if I'm fooling you all, even slightly, but I sure wasn't fooling myself. The reason was simple: I lacked the confidence. Oh sure, I've gained loads of confidence with each passing day. But I still lack the confidence to try something and fail. And really, it's not about my failing in general. It's about my failing in front of others. Because you know, the other ladies in spin are completely consumed with how I'M doing. They aren't there for their own goals. They're there to watch ME.

Seriously, one of these days I'm going to truly accept that people are not nearly as obsessed with me as I seem to think they are.


Anyway....fast forward through going to buy padded bike shorts and then blowing out my calf muscle. Fast foward to last Tuesday. That's when I did it. I went to Spin class. I thought the class was 45 minutes. I figured I'd do what I could and if I got to 45, that would be awesome but I would just focus on doing as much as I could.
Then they took a vote and decided to go for an hour. Dammit. Well, about 20 minutes in, I thought there was just no way my legs would hold out much longer. I was cutting it off at 30. But then I looked up and it was 35 minutes. So I vowed to make it to the 45 I originally thought it would be. But when I got there, I went the distance. Because I'm no chump!!!!

Today was my second attempt. I'm shocked at how much better I did. And I had a major attitude at the gym today. I came very close to deciding that Spin would just be way too hard. But, as bad as I felt, I knew I'd feel even worse for just walking away. So I told myself just to go, but gave myself permission to leave early if I needed to. Of course, I didn't need to. Once I got going, my attitude improved. And the time pretty much flew by.

I'm not sure if my attitude improved because of endorphins, or because when I push myself, I feel better. I think it's the latter. Because the more I push myself, the better I feel in general. Because I ain't no chump!