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Some new reading to bookmark about alignment and fitness.

I don't read a lot of fitness and outdoor activity blogs regularly, but I do follow a couple. One of my favorites is Mama Sweat by Kara Douglass Thom, who writes about living an active life "in the chaos of motherhood." She has four children, including a pair of twins; she lives in my area, which is handy for me since when the streets here are buried in snow, she is writing about snowshoeing instead of about outdoor bicycling. She is also the author of Hot Sweaty Mamas: Five Secrets to Life as a Fit Mom, a book I am happy to recommend (nifty trivia: she quoted my blog in it!)

I have always liked Mama Sweat since a friend sent me to it a few years ago, because even though Kara is the type of active person who describes herself as addicted to exercise, and used to run endurance events, her attitude is positive and encouraging, not shaming. You don't have to be a marathon runner. You don't have to work out every day. If you have a bunch of kids, it can take creativity, effort, and sacrifice to find a way to make movement part of your life; but it's worth it to take care of yourself physically and sets a good example for those same kids (especially daughters).

I read her blog for ideas and inspiration, especially in the area of including kids in activity, something I don't do as much as I ought to. She has some really cute articles about her kids running 5ks and doing yoga with her. (But then, I guess one way I motivate myself to move is by using exercise to give me some of the "alone in a crowd time" that I naturally crave. I suppose that is part of my personal style as a Fit Enough Mom, and maybe I shouldn't second-guess it too much since it works pretty well.)

Some time ago Kara had to shake up her routine due to musculoskeletal pain, and had to cut back on the running and the really intense workouts in favor of a regimen of alignment exercises. This post on what she learned from her "exercise detox" is a great summary, and I think I am going to bookmark it as well as the links she recommends from Katy Says "Alignment Matters!"

I came away with a bigger appreciation for movement and the distinction between movement and exercise, health and fitness. Movement... is the meal. The work necessary to keep muscles at an optimal length and joints mobile are the vitamins. Exercise is the dessert...

if you had told me 15 years ago I would be swapping 15-mile runs and 80-mile bike rides for walking, Pilates, yoga and alignment videos I would not have believed it (nor would I believed it if you had told me then I'd someday be the mother of four). One thing Katy says... is: "Exercise does not need to be hard or vigorous, it just needs to be different." I'm one of those people who likes being sore, which might be one reason I gravitated toward the hard and vigorous. But now I've discovered that moving muscles in ways they are unaccustomed--even stretching--is a challenge...

I like what I'm doing for now. I spent more than 20 years putting my body through incredibly tough challenges. I can say with satisfaction that I pushed my body beyond what I ever thought it was capable. Those experiences were incredible and I am amazed at what my body has accomplished. When you go to those extremes you start believing that "hard" is what you have to do in order to be satisfied. I don't believe that anymore. My body doesn't need hard to be and stay healthy, it just needs different movement to adapt and activity to maintain cell-turnover.

Read the whole thing.

It should make good reading for my postpartum recovery period, while I am itching to get back up and moving again.

As a matter of fact, this might be a good time to create a new category of fitness and outdoor blogs (especially of the "fit it into your real life" subgenre) in my feed reader. I never really have done that, but it probably would make fine reading to keep myself thinking about how to make sure movement stays in my weekly priorities, even as we shift things around to make our new life with five kids.

 

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Temptation at home.

It's been a long time since I was writing a great deal about weight loss and gluttony....

(believe me, I will probably need to write more about it sometime after I have this baby... maybe even sooner, because while trying to lose weight isn't appropriate right now, dealing with old impulses always is...)

... and it's been an even longer time since someone emailed me with a question inspired by those old posts!

(Excuse me for my enthusiasm.  I'm a little thrilled to have someone give me a reason to add a blog post.  Lately, what with the homeschooling, the pregnancy, and the head lice, it's been hard to get to the computer with enough energy left to write.)

So, anyway, reader Katherine emails:

I...  have been following for the last few months.  Since May when I read your semiannual maintenance post. I began reading more of your posts about weight loss.

A nice amount resonated with me. I'm a food addict and I've been trying to make lifestyle changes to improve that. But there is one area that does undermine me and I just wondered if you had any tips or suggestions on how to deal with it.

I struggle to not eat when I'm making meals for my kids, even if I'm not hungry. It can smell good, look good and sometimes I even need to taste it to make sure it is cooked or seasoned or the right temperature. And it can be hard for me then not to, "Oh I'll just have a little bit."

I know you said you chew gum cleaning up after meals, but what about when making meals for others? Do you chew gum then too? Is there a better snack you keep on hand for that? Some other trick I'm not thinking of? I enjoy a piece of gum now and then, but chewing all day would give me a headache. 

Chewing gum all day would give me a headache too.  I resort to the gum-after-meals because I personally have a bigger problem with cleaning up afterwards -- with ending my meals -- and because there's a plausible socially acceptable excuse to do it for other reasons: an after-meal stick of sugarless gum, especially kinds that contain xylitol, reduces cavities.  So, hey, good all around. 

So, what to do about eating during food preparation for others.   I guess it would depend on (a) why you perceive that it's a problem and (b) why you think you do it anyway.

I can think of at least two different published systems that are effective for many and that recommend going cold-turkey on eating outside times when you have deliberately chosen to have a "meal" (where we allow that some meals are small and happen between breakfast, lunch, and dinner).   One of these, quite simple, is No-S and the other, more complicated, is the Beck approach.  

No-S is summed up as "no snacks, no sweets, no seconds except on days that start with S."  It emphatically does NOT define liquids as snacks, even rich and caloric ones like milkshakes or beer, because it's a behavior modification technique rather than a calorie-counting one.  Chewing gum -- unless it tended to exacerbate cravings for sweets and is problematic for that reason -- would be compatible with that system.   But taking a bite of foods  you're cooking (except, I suppose, liquids like broths or sauces) would be incompatible with the system -- yes, even in order to find out if there's enough salt.   And it would also be incompatible with the system to eat other snacks while cooking, even something like celery sticks.  The whole point is to condition you not to eat when it isn't mealtime.

The Beck approach is based on cognitive-behavioral therapy.  It's quite different from No-S, as it's a controlled-calorie system that writes "snacks" and "sweets" into the budget, while teaching techniques to help people discontinue unhelpful behaviors.  One of the pieces of advice I remember about it -- a piece that I didn't end up following -- was not to rely on a crutch like gum or sugarless candy to keep your mouth busy so you wouldn't eat things.  Beck thought that in her system, it was preferable to learn to cope with cravings and temptations some other way besides putting something in your mouth.   

I mention these not as diet-book recommendations (though you could certainly investigate them) but to point out that each system hangs together in its own way, and what makes sense in one doesn't make sense in another.  Ultimately, of course, everyone who needs a system, needs a personalized one.  

One person can't touch chips without eating every chip in sight, so it makes more sense (at least temporarily) to expose herself to chps with caution; another person reacts to food restriction with binging, so it makes more sense for him (at least temporarily) to give himself permission to have some of whatever he wants, until "forbidden" foods lose their power over him.

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So, let's examine some of what you wrote.  Starting with this one.

...sometimes I even need to taste it to make sure it is cooked or seasoned or the right temperature. 

I challenge this assumption.  When you're ferreting out unnecessary eating, I have found it helpful to question every instance of "I need to put this in my mouth because..."   Often they aren't really "need tos."  And this one sounds like a false "need to."  

• If you're unsure whether something is cooked through, tasting it isn't safe.  Make sure it is cooked by cutting into meat and observing the color and texture, by using a thermometer to find out if it has come up to the prescribed doneness temperature, or by paying attention to how long it has been cooking.
• Whether something is correctly seasoned or not is subjective, especially if you're talking about salt or hot pepper.  Even if it tastes the right amount of "salty" to you, it might not to others.  So there's no need to taste food for that reason.  Follow the recipe for herbs and garlic, err on the side of under-salting and under-spicing food, and pass the salt and pepper at the table.
• Temperature can be tested with a thermometer or a fingertip, or you can touch a spoon to the outside of your lip.

If you are the sort of person who generally struggles with "just one taste" turning into "just one more bite" and then into a whole serving's worth of bites --- and let me say that I am one of those people too, so believe me, I get it --- it will help you avoid the second, third, and nth tastes if you steer clear of that first "just one taste."  That holds true even if you are tempted to think that this "just one taste" will be different somehow because you have a  "good" reason to take a bite of the food.  But it will not affect you any differently just because it can be defined as "good."

I struggle to not eat when I'm making meals for my kids, even if I'm not hungry.

I think to figure out what about your situation is especially tempting, you need to ask yourself... what's actually wrong with eating the food you are preparing for your children?   Is it because you've already had your own meal?  Is it because you think the kid food is not good for you and you should eat something better for you?  Is it the "I'm not hungry so I shouldn't eat" thing?  

Because what jumps out at me is the "when I'm making meals for my kids" part -- not "for me and for my kids," or "for my family," but "for my kids."  Are you eating at a different time from your children?  Different stuff, because of different tastes or dietary needs?  Or are you doing something like packing lunches for them for the future, or making things to go in the freezer?

Is part of the problem that you're making two sets of meals -- one for yourself and one for your kids -- and that gives you two opportunities to eat a meal?

In any case, you are unhappy with this situation and it is probably time to shake it up a bit -- experiment with trying different things.

Would it help if you made meals for your kids at the same time that you are typically making a meal or a snack for yourself?  So that you have in your pocket the ability to tell yourself:  "I deserve to have a real meal on a plate.  I'm not a dog who gets fed on table scraps.  I'm going to have my lunch in just a moment, when the children are eating their lunch, and my lunch will be just as good or better than what these guys are having."

Or... you could decide that you DO want to have the food you are making "for the children."  And then you could commit to it.  There's no shame in eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch, with a glass of milk (or chocolate milk!) and an apple on the side.  Just commit to it!  Put it on a plate, say "This is my lunch," eat it, and be done with it.

After all, if the food you are making for your children looks good and smells good and you want to eat it, why not... plan on eating it?

I think if it were me, I might try an experiment of just eating the same food I'm making for my kids for a couple of weeks (but on a plate, not standing at the stove).   "After all," I would reason, "here I am eating bits these pepperoni pizzas and grilled cheese sandwiches day after day, even when I've already had a lunch.  Clearly I must WANT them on some level, and telling myself not to eat them isn't working.  So I'll just eat them.  Not in addition to my 'real' lunch, but AS my 'real' lunch."

If you know I am going to have a full serving of the meal I am preparing, on a plate, like a grownup, I find it is easier to tell myself, "hey, I don't want to eat this standing next to the stove.  I want to sit down and enjoy it like a human being. "  

A sociable person might say, "I want to sit down with my kids and reconnect with them over a meal!  Or with family and friends!"  

A person like me in the middle of the school day might say, "I can't wait to send the kids away for Break Time and take this grilled cheese sandwich and bowl of soup and sit down with it in front of the computer in peace and quiet and enjoy it while I check my email and then have a cup of coffee and really relax for half an hour before going back to work."

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As a side note, I admit that feel a little at sea when trying to answer reader questions.

The context in which I have chosen to interpret my food issues is "gluttony."   I had a great deal of personal success framing them in that way.  There were elements of addiction over which I had little control, but interacting with those were also elements over which I did have control.  I tried to tease them apart and, where appropriate, accuse myself.

I'm loath to tell anyone else where addiction (the disability) ends and gluttony (the weakness) begins.  That (besides lacking details) is why I didn't use the word "gluttony" while writing about Katherine's question.

But it is possible to step back and, without naming the cause as either addiction or gluttony-the-personal-weakness, identify acts that are objectively gluttonous.  There is no self-shaming to be implied in this.  Only "hey, here is something I do, and I am identifying it as a problem that I want to work on."  To see your activities with clear eyes.

Aquinas says that gluttony is the act of eating too soon, too expensively, too much, too eagerly, too daintily, not counting when you "think it necessary" for yourself.  One of the reasons I have found that definition less than useful is that it's shockingly easy for me to convince myself that eating some thing "is necessary."

 ("Needing" to taste food repeatedly to make sure it's seasoned properly is only one example.  I would tell myself things like "I only had pastries for breakfast, now I 'need' to eat my second breakfast which will provide me with protein and necessary minerals," or "I don't know if there will be food where I'm going and I might get hungry, so I 'need' to eat a full meal before I get there" followed by "I 'need' to eat because it's what everybody else is doing." Now I'm pregnant and I still struggle with what I "need" to eat because I'm pregnant and I "need" more food and better food.)

Dissatisfied with the way that this "necessary" loophole keeps undermining my resolve, plus the vagueness of the "too"'s in that discussion, I proposed an alternate categorization here.   I found it a lot more helpful in accusing myself and in changing my behavior.  

But that's me.  It's not necessarily you, or the reader, or anyone else.

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Anyone else have some ideas for experiments to try, in order to break the habit of eating while preparing children's meals?  My suggestion -- to plan on eating the apparently desirable children's meal as one's own meal -- can't be the only one.

Semiannual maintenance post, May 2013.

Five years ago this week, I woke up one day and decided to try being hungry for a change.  Those of you who've been through my archives know that this decision eventually led to my dropping 40 pounds and 6 pants sizes, and returning myself from BMI-obese to BMI normal.

I guess it's sticking for now.  I guess it's real.

I try to remain detached from the number if I can.  For instance, I always keep in mind that if I have another pregnancy, or when I go through menopause, I could wind up at another weight.  Mostly I think I've learned to manage that detachment, but from time to time I forget.

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Last month I forgot for a while.  

From time to time I think back to the months while the number on the scale was dropping.  During those months -- May to November of 2008 -- I was, frankly, obsessed and controlling and fearful (that whatever magic was working would stop working).   I was developing good habits, but at the same time I felt very driven by the numbers.  And yet I look back at that time with amazement at my power and self-control.  

Sometimes I start worrying, "What if I gain weight and I need to lose it again?  Will I ever be able to do what I did then?  Maybe I'll never recapture it, if I ever need it."

And I say to myself, "I know how I can make myself feel better.  I'll prove I can still do it.  I'll lose 1 pound, starting right now.  Even though I don't objectively need to lose any pounds, I'll just lose 1.  If I still have what it takes, it won't take long, just a couple of weeks, a month at most once I get back in the groove again.  I'll crack down really hard on myself and I'll lose 1 pound, and I'll prove to myself that I could still lose weight again any time I want to."

And then I can't "crack down on myself" as hard as I think I should, and the little line I still plot on a chart most days goes down a little and up a little and down a little just like it always does, and I fret some more.  Maybe I'll never get that groove back, even if I need it.  If I can't make it happen whenever I want to, whether I need it or not, will I be able to make it happen someday if I do need it?

And then I imagine a future where everyone makes fun of me because I blogged about overcoming gluttony but then I got fat again.  Seriously?  This is what I worry about?  Becoming a data point on the nobody can lose weight and keep it off side?  Or is it being proven wrong?  Am I a thin-person impostor?  Are the size 2's only a disguise?

This is not a healthy mental space to be in.

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So, last month I confessed to Mark that I was trying to lose ONE POUND and I couldn't manage to do it.  

(I mean, obviously my weight fluctuates day to day, but I wasn't seeing a permanent shift downward that would stick.)

And he reminded me:  

You are getting it backwards again.  

If you are worried about putting the weight back on, look at your behavior, not at the numbers.

Look at your habits.  Are you developing habits you don't want to develop?  Are you losing good habits you wanted to keep?

Because if you are slipping back into old patterns that you associate with the time when you were heavy and when you ate constantly, then that is a problem.  And it's a problem you can do something about.

But if all your habits are good, then you don't need to try to force the numbers to do ANYTHING.

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He's right.  He's absolutely right.  And I know this.  I don't know why I keep forgetting it.

But I do forget it from time to time.

I cannot directly control the number on the scale.  

I can directly control the choices that I make.

And I want to make choices every day that are compatible with living out the rest of my life in a healthy relationship to food and physical activity.

That's what I want.  To make choices now that are good for the rest of my life.

I can't really go wrong doing that, no matter what the numbers do.

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Fretting about the numbers often accompanies feelings of loss of control over those good habits.  And I usually find that, if I can remember to examine the habits instead of the numbers, I find that I have some places I should re-commit to.

The "diet mentality" has always been a mistake for me.  The idea that I can or should deprive myself strictly for some temporary period and then return to "normal" eating once I've acheived some number.   This has only been destructive.

(The only exception:  On occasion, I've found it helpful to cut out sugar and cut back on carbs for a few days, just to break a spiraling descent into a carb-craving cycle.   I don't think of it as dieting.  I call it detox even though I know that's a stupid word for it.)

Instead, I need to look at each behavior I engage in, and ask:  

Do I feel confident that repeating this behavior, regularly, for the rest of my life, would be good for me?  

If I made it to the end of a long life and looked back, what habits would I be telling everyone were my secret?

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Here are some of them, I think:

• Eat just enough at meals so that I have a real appetite when I sit down at the next one.  Pay attention to how much that takes, and learn.
• Have sweets and desserts at any meal time that I wish, but keep them small.  
• Go to bed a little bit hungry.  Have a drink in the evening instead of a snack. 
• Keep alcohol portions modest at dinner--or at least put off the drinking until the food's cleared away.
• Sugarless gum after meals -- good for teeth, and good for reminding me not to nibble as I clean up.
• Prefer dressed vegetables to carbs.  Use carbs judiciously to extract the maximum textural experience from each portion.
• I only typically need one snack, in midafternoon:  make it small, balanced, pleasant, and on a plate.
• Share my food with people who ask.
• Half sandwiches.    Most sandwiches are too damn big, at least for me. 
• Graciously accept some of whatever I'm offered, but I don't have to eat all of it.
• Refuse to think of an occasional, deliberate choice to enjoy food for pure pleasure as a "failure." 

These are not difficult to live by and don't represent deprivation, but they do take a little bit of attention.  And when my attention slips, I make choices that aren't as good.  It's as simple as that.  I need to pay a little attention to make good choices regularly, but the choices I want to make are choices I can feel happy about for the rest of my life.

Understanding the mechanism.

I think by now everybody's heard the canard:  "It takes 20 minutes to feel full after eating, so wait that long before you serve up a second helping."  I saw it again today, but with a twist on it I've rarely seen.

As far as I can tell, the advice to eat slowly and wait between servings in order to prevent eating until overfull is backed up by research --- I don't think anyone disputes that it probably helps and won't hurt.  What I think is interesting is the rationale.

  Usually, this advice is accompanied by a folk-theory explanation of why it supposedly takes 20 minutes to feel full after eating.    Here are a few I managed to scrape up from Google:

 

"It takes your stomach about 20 minutes to produce the hormones that tell your brain that you are full. This process doesn’t start until your stomach begins to stretch."

"Eating quickly doesn’t give the stomach enough time to communicate with the brain to send up the “I’m full” message, and missing that cue can cause overeating. Waiting 20 minutes gives the brain enough time to register the “full” or “still hungry” signal."

"Remember that it takes about 20 minutes for your stomach to tell your brain that you're full."

 

There's more like that out there.  The details vary but the gist of it is commonly "stomach talks to brain, 20 minutes required."

Today, for the first time, I saw deviation from this folk tale in a soundbite-type article --- the kind that takes you through a slideshow of stock images, one per "tip".  Tip number 6  in a WaPo slide show that starts here:  

Wait 20 minutes for seconds:   Food must move 22 feet through your intestines from your stomach to peptide YY cells — the switch that says you are sated. 

What's this?  Peptide YY cells?  The intestines are involved in the conversation?  How novel!

The mechanism is apparently a bit more complex, though you wouldn't know it from the folktales.  I'm always particularly annoyed when the advice columnist, or whoever, suggests that satiety is primarily the feeling of your stomach "stretching" or some such thing, and that hunger is the feeling of the walls of the stomach touching each other or some such thing.   That's a theory from the early 1900s that's been well disproven.   (Have your stomach surgically removed and you'll still feel hunger and satiety.)

Mostly, hunger and satiety are brought on by hormonal signals (even that is a vast oversimplification!), and if your stomach is straining to contain the food you've gobbled, chances are you've overshot it.  

Peptide YY hormones (abbreviated PYY) are just one of several factors implicated in appetite regulation.  I'll borrow this brief explanation of PYY action in one set of mouse experiments from an abstract:  

In response to food ingestion plasma [PYY] concentrations rise within 15 min and plateau by approximately 90 min. The peak [PYY] level achieved is proportional to the calories ingested, suggesting that [PYY] may signal food ingestion from the gut to appetite-regulating circuits within the brain.

(I caution against taking single statements in reports of experiments, wherever published, as gospel.  I'm just quoting this here in order to borrow the wording, and emphasize that active research has moved beyond the "stomach walls rubbing together" thing.)

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So why does it matter?  If the advice is good, who cares whether we understand the real mechanism or not?

Maybe you can chalk it up to different types of people.  I for one find it easier to adhere to suggested behaviors if I have a mental model of what's really going on.

Here's one example.  Like many folks, I get cravings for carbohydrates when I've had a busy morning dealing with the kids or a long shopping trip or a stressful afternoon.   I have had an easier time riding them out and solving them in better ways now that I understand a few things (the following does not apply to diabetics and prediabetics):  

    (1) they are physiological, not a sign of mental weakness;

    (2) they really do signal low blood glucose, and I really will be sluggish if I don't get fed;

    (3) eating carbs will feel great and deliver immediate relief, but might not last long;

    (4) eating protein-and-fat will deliver the same relief from the craving, because a protein snack really will raise your blood glucose; but the relief won't show up for 30 minutes or so, and sadly it will not deliver the rush of "oh thank God this cookie is the best thing I ever ate."  Still, it will solve the problem.

How does this help with the carb cravings?

    (1) I know better than to try to ignore this signal.  It's a real message saying, "Either eat something, or quit doing anything mentally taxing until your next meal."

   (2) Even if the idea of a Coke and french fries and pie  is making me go yes yes yes, and the thought of a hardboiled egg or a handful of  almonds is making me go meh, I know that --- in the end --- the egg or the almonds will fix this problem.   

  (3) If I know this, I cannot fool myself into thinking, "But I really need a hit of sugar."  I don't.  But before I really understood the slower response to protein, I easily tricked myself into thinking that I did need the Coke or the cookies.

  (4)  If I can't stop what I'm doing and wait for the slower protein response, having a little bit of each might be a good compromise.  

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I can't say for sure whether I'll be more or less likely to wait that 20 minutes if I know that one of the "you've eaten enough" signals is triggered by caloric food reaching the ileum.  (Or if I know that gastrointestinal transit is not simple either:  "Materials do not leave segments of the digestive tube in the same order that they arrive."

One thing that does help me is knowing from experience how I've accidentally become overfull.  Can't count the times where "hm, I think I've got room for dessert!" has turned into "ooof, I guess I didn't really have room..." after, oh, twenty minutes or so.   I really have to almost feel like I've undereaten for a whole dessert not to make me all stuffed.

We have a locally owned, family-style restaurant near our house that charges only a dollar for pie after 7 p.m.  I am a great fan of pie, and so this restaurant (kid's meals under $3 that include drinks and dessert!  No kidding!) has been a good training ground for "saving room for dessert."  I almost always take the kids there after swimming lessons when Mark goes out of town for a few days, and I almost always arrive thinking "At the end of this meal, I will have pie."  

Keeping in mind the feeling of having eaten too much before the pie, and then added the pie onto that, really does help me remember not to order something big and then polish it off.   It's entirely mental -- another kind of knowledge that makes a real difference.

All caught up on the chronological index.

This is just a sort of bookmarking post to let you know, in case you are one of the readers who care about it, that I got all caught up on the post that's the chronological list of all posts about gluttony, weight loss, and weight maintenance.  Entries are now up to date through, uh, a few days ago.  

(That took me a while, because it had been more than a year since I updated it.)

Maybe I should repost it, I don't know.  It gets a fair amount of traffic.  Anyone think that would help?

 

The semiannual gluttony retrospective, part IV: sticking to it through the ups and downs. ALSO comparison to nicotine.

Intro to this series. Part I. Part II. Part III.

Sometimes I forget, but most mornings I still weigh myself. I keep a homemade Excel chart on the bathroom counter (next to the other chart); I pencil in a little dot. Each graph lasts a calendar month. At the end of each month I file away each graph in a three-ring binder.

It is hard for me to let go of data.

Despite that, I try to maintain a certain distance from the numbers. The numbers aren't my target; behaviors that keep me mentally and physically healthy, and non-gluttonous, are my target. The numbers only serve as a signal that my habits and behaviors are working -- and only in one particular way. I know this intellectually, but I have to work at it to believe it.

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So let's say that I have observed my weight creeping up. (Hypothetically, ahem.) That's the wake-up call to deal with habits that I already know have been slipping. Gluttony creeping back in:

• second servings just because I can,
• eating the children's leavings,
• joining in on bedtime snacks just because everyone else is,
• feeling full and still going because there's still some pleasure to be had on the plate.

I start paying attention to all these, keeping a pack of gum in my pocket and leaving the serving dishes in the kitchen and so forth, and invariably the weight dips back down the first couple of days while I am focused.

What happens next is kind of funny.

If I stay focused, and the weight keeps going down, a little voice in my head urges me to make an Akron U-turn. "Look how great I am doing! I guess I don't really have to change my habits after all! My numbers are lovely! I can go back to big portions and extra chocolate at bedtime!"

(As I wrote on the Akron U-Turn post, this is certifiably insane. X causes Y, therefore Y is inevitable.)

If I don't stay quite as focused, and the weight pops back up -- maybe not as far up as it had been, but not dropping quite so fast -- a little voice in my head urges me to give up since "it isn't working anyway." This is also certifiably insane, and is in fact the exact opposite argument being made by the Akron U-Turn voice.

Picture on my shoulders -- not the angel and the demon, but a skinny demon and a fat demon. They take turns. The skinny demon's line is "You're doing great! You can afford to be a little gluttonous!" The fat demon's line is "Give it up! You might as well be a glutton for all the good this is doing you!"

I am telling you, there is part of my brain that will try anything, including the complete suspension of logic, in order to get more cake.

+ + +

I guess there are two counter-thoughts I could be having here.

When the number on the scale makes me happy, I can think: "What I am doing is working well. Keep it up."

When the number on the scale makes me worried, I can think: "I know what I need to do. I have done it before."

So I am working on that.

One thing that is definitely getting better is the long-term view. I keep coming back to that. Because this is a rest-of-my-life thing, it is okay if the trends are really, really slow and slight. I don't really care about getting quickly back to my target. I only care about not getting farther away and making course corrections that nudge me back to where I am going.

+ + +

As an almost but not entirely unrelated matter: there was a thread on the front page of reddit today about smoking cessation. The question went like this:

Ex-smokers of reddit, what was your motivation and/or technique for giving up?

First, I think this person was right to post the question to /r/askreddit (which is a general-interest subreddit) and specifically asking "ex-smokers," rather than posting to /r/stopsmoking and getting answers from a lot of people who are still struggling with their addiction.

And I thought to myself -- where would people struggling with nicotine addiction be if mostly they just turned for advice to people who haven't (yet) successfully quit, or to people who never had an addiction in the first place? It seems pretty obvious that while they are not the only source of useful advice for would-be quitters (the medical profession probably has at least some), those who've been addicted and managed to quit would be a good population to turn to. Learn from the proven.

The same thing could be said for the battle against gluttony and sloth (and by extension, excess adiposity). It is really surprising how much of the popular narrative is devoted to pointing out that few people succeed permanently, without rounding up a bunch of successful losers and trying to learn from them.

That being said, I noticed as I was lurking on the reddit "how did you quit?" question that there was a great deal of variety in the answers. One swore by antidepressants, another warned against them. Many said that cold-turkey was the only way, others thought that cold-turkey approaches were doomed to fail and advised keeping a pack of cigarettes around to ease the really bad cravings. E-cigarettes and patches were common tools, but some didn't find them helpful at all. For some, a "wake-up call" was all they needed (becoming a father, coughing up a wad of black stuff, counting up the yearly cost) and for others, mental effort alone wasn't enough.

I have never been addicted to nicotine (never smoked a cigarette in my life, in fact), so I can't directly compare the two experiences of kicking nicotine and kicking gluttony. However, I was struck by the similarities evident in the list. Highly personalized approach; the necessity of learning to deal with physical suffering; the way it gets slowly better with time, even though relapse is always a sobering possibility; the knowledge that even though it is hard, some people do succeed, every year.

The semiannual gluttony retrospective, part III: Keeping motivated in the face of okayness.

MrsDarwin kindly obliged me with a question on my introductory post:

I really appreciate your maintenance/reminder posts, since I'm kind of at the same stage you are (though with less exercise). I'm at a basically acceptable weight which I maintain without much trouble -- I could stand to lose five pounds and tone up, but on the other hand, my clothes fit in a mostly flattering fashion. But I need the constant reminder not to be complacent. You should write about "keeping motivated in the face of okayness." 

This is really the crux of maintenance, and it can even be the crux of initial weight loss, too.  Remember the Akron U-Turn?  I think it's common to use "hey, I'm doing pretty well!" as an excuse to undermine ourselves by going back to undesirable behaviors.

Some good habits have persisted in the face of my okayness, and some have drifted away.   What's the difference?  I think a lot of it has to do with having created "bright lines" around some behaviors:  some rule I've stated to myself, even gone public with here on the blog or in my family. Something that It's not okay to eat a whole pizza.  A normal breakfast can contain one egg, but not two.  The right dessert size for me is about as big as two Oreos.  I don't go through a drive-through to get a snack.    I go to the gym at least twice a week.   

You have to strike the right balance when it comes to these:

• they have to be something that you really want to adopt permanently, with few exceptions.  
• They have to be something where it doesn't matter if you're doing "okay" -- for the rest of your life you want to live with these bright-line boundaries, no matter what your dress size.   
• And you have to know when to define your bright line around a "never" (in my case, "never eat a whole pizza") and when to define it around a "normal" that can be excepted on special occasions (like the two-egg thing; if I'm starving, I'll order a big fat omelette at a restaurant, but I think of it as a splurge, a deviation).

The hard part is creating the bright line in the first place.  I may think I want to stop doing a certain behavior, but often I find that I don't really want to.  I've tried to establish "I never nibble off the kids' plates after lunch" and it hasn't worked very well.  On the other hand I might well be able to establish "I make the kids scrape their own plates into the trash after lunch," now that I think about it.   So maybe part of it is carefully choosing which behavior to enclose in those bright lines.

Right now the "okayness" I struggle with is in the physical activity.  I'm in pretty good shape compared to the average woman my age; training at a higher level is not feasible right now because of my other responsibilities, so I have no reason to set a stringent goal; even Mark can't run faster or longer than I can because he's recovering from an injury, so I haven't got the motivation to keep up with him.   I still go to the gym twice a week, and try for three times, but I haven't been pushing myself very hard lately; I've told myself "I only have to run for twenty minutes and then I can quit," and pretty often when I get to the end of the twenty minutes I do quit.  For a while there I was running at a peak speed of 7.2 mph at intervals, and these days I go "meh" and set the treadmill at 6.0 and try not to think about it till I'm done.  Well, I didn't draw the bright line around a certain number of minutes or a certain speed; I drew it around showing up twice a week.  And I faithfully show up twice a week, but I don't work very hard right now.  

Why the backsliding?  I think I feel a little bit overwhelmed with things right now -- look how badly my blogging has fallen off -- and so it's harder to say "no" to the voice that says, "You're sick of this treadmill and you could just get off and go take an extra-long, extra hot shower."   My solution to this has been to run less and swim more, since I hate to run and love to swim.  It works.  At minimum, I want to keep running enough that I don't hurt myself when I do run, and one run every week or two seems to do that.  

Anyway, I still have to take a good hard look at my habits and clean them up now and again, because where I didn't draw a bright line they occasionally veer into "old bad habit" territory.  One way I'm doing that right now is by keeping a food diary and counting up the calories -- it's not a permanent habit, it's a diagnostic tool to find the places where I can improve.  Mostly it reminds me of things I already learned:  I don't need a snack between breakfast and lunch.  An afternoon snack with a little protein in it is generally a good idea, but it doesn't have to be big.  Second servings at dinner is something I have to be careful about.  All these things I know, but it's really easy -- when things have been going well -- to trick myself into thinking I'm in pretty good shape -- I can afford to splurge often enough that the "splurge" creeps back into becoming an everyday thing. 

Anyway, I think the best defense against the "okayness" problem are bright lines -- boundaries which are meant to stand no matter how "okay" you feel.  They can be somewhat porous and can have exceptions -- but the point is that they define a lifelong norm.  I find that wherever I've managed to establish them, they have remained.

Semiannual gluttony retrospective, part II. The numbers.

So I haven't been doing that "weight control chart" for a long time now. I still weigh myself most mornings, and every few days I write it down because I want to keep a long-term record (and if nothing else, there's a height and weight check-in on the NFP charts, so I will at least have one data point per month). I stopped doing that thing where I would start following more rules when I had so many data points (weight readings) that were in such-and-such a range, etc. It was worth a try, but it was really too involved to keep up with.

I have been thinking more and more about the most useful attitude to have toward the numbers: the weight on the scale, the dress size, and even the calorie count (or WW points or carb grams---whatever countable food metric you might be considering).

Coming into the start of my fifth year of weight control, I am even more strongly convinced of a particular way of thinking about these numbers. I have pointed out before that "the numbers" are not under your direct control. Behavior and habit development are under your direct control; the numbers aren't. If weight/size control for health is your desire. the numbers are useful -- not as goals or targets, because you cannot really aim at them -- but as diagnostics to evaluate existing habits and behaviors.

The sequence goes like this:

• Check the numbers
• Decide to develop a particular habit that seems it might be helpful
• Set goal to "hit" the habit by repeatedly practicing the behavior until habit is established
• Once habit is established, check the numbers again
• If the numbers are good (or at least not worse) and the habit is pleasant or tolerable, keep the habit; if the numbers are worse or the habit is intolerable, choose a different habit.

The important thing here is that if you're going to freak out and feel like a failure, don't do it because the numbers are bad. Focus all concern about failure, all motivation to succeed, on the behavior. Not on the numbers. The behavior is what you can control. The numbers are an indirect effect.

 

One of the things I am even more sure about is that even the number of calories you consume counts as a metric, not a behavior. I know it seems wrong, because theoretically you ought to be able to directly control the number of calories you put in your mouth. But it is so foreign to human relationships with food to calculate calories before eating them, and it is such an intrusion into normal eating behavior to do it, and it is so difficult to keep up long-term (not to mention being pretty inaccurate) that I really think it needs to be considered a metric, something that is indirectly affected by the choices you make throughout the day.

 

Even if you take the step of counting calories before you eat them, using a calorie counter to make a plan and then trying to stick to it all day, you still need to employ direct behavior strategies, and whether you consume the number of calories you planned or not is an indirect result of all the choices you made that day. One of them was the choice to count up the calories and put together the meal plan, of course. But there were many others: did you measure your food every time? did you take steps to avoid temptations? what did you do when you had to make an unexpected substitution? At the end of the day when you count up all the calories, the number you actually ate is a measure of whether your decisions were useful or not.

 

In other words: don't berate yourself for eating 1,972 calories instead of 1,300 calories. Measure it, write it down, work on the habits, and then some day in the future try measuring again and see if, with a similar effort, you manage to get closer to the 1,300.

 

I find that periodically spending a week or so pre-planning my portions in order to hit a certain calorie range is a good way to remind myself of the portion sizes I actually need, so I do this from time to time. (I am doing it this week; the semi-annual gluttony retrospective is here for a reason, after all). But I try really hard to think of the behavior goal as "I will sit down every evening for a week and pre-plan my portions and foods to the best of my ability to predict them, and at each meal I will measure portions and make corrections to the plan to reflect reality." I don't think of it as "I will eat no more than 1700 calories each day." Because ultimately, unless I moved into a locked laboratory, I can't just make that happen. I don't eat calories; I eat food, things like strawberries and cheddar cheese and turkey sandwiches and Twix and margaritas. The calories are an abstraction, and they are not worth getting upset about. I just use them, from time to time, to tell me if my habits are helpful or harmful.

Semiannual gluttony retrospective, part I.

First of all, here is my maintenance cred.

This is me in 2008, near the end of my weight loss...

...and this is me a couple of weeks ago, wearing the same clothes and attempting to reproduce the pose (no belt, though):

I think I weighed about 109 pounds in the 2008 photo.  I probably weighed 114 in the 2012 photo.  Truth is, I like myself better at 114 than at 109.  The giddiness has been replaced by a quieter and more long-lasting satisfaction.

+ + +

Let's talk first about whether maintenance is getting "easier" as time goes on.

The challenges change, that's for sure.  My mental health has improved.  When I first changed my way of eating (WOE as they call it on the various boards -- not my favorite acronym the Internet has produced), I had done little but exchange one kind of disordered eating and disordered movement for another:  I'd gone from slothful gluttony to hyper-control-freaky rigidity.

 I'm not saying I regret that, because the second set of disorders got me where I wanted to be.  But they took a while to fade.  

The improvement is here:  When my weight is within limits, well under control, I can just... live.  No counting, no stressing.  Eat when I am hungry, etcetera.  I do normal things like occasionally nibble on the kids' leftovers, but I don't feel compelled to clean their plates for them.  I sometimes have seconds of something tasty, without guilt, but I don't eat six helpings.  I might eat that extra slice of pizza now and then.  Sometimes, when I'm busy, I skip going to the gym and I don't worry that it means I will never go again.

Nowadays, I only get that panicky must-count-all-my-calories, guilt-over-the-sensation-of-fullness, must-get-to-the-gym-before-all-else, lie-awake-fretting-about-whether-I-can-still-control-myself-sufficiently feeling when my weight goes up to 115 or if I wear a pair of pants that feels tight as I go about my day.

I am unsure as to whether I should consider its persistence a feature or a bug.

Probably it causes me to do the right thing, i.e., moderate my eating and maintain my healthy weight, for the wrong reason, i.e. PANIC PANIC PANIC PLEASE DON'T LET ME HAVE TO BUY BIGGER PANTS AND PLEASE DON'T LET ME SEE "TIL that smartypants bearing is fat again" ON THE FRONT PAGE OF REDDIT OR EVEN /r/catholicism PLEASE.

Doing the right thing for the wrong reasons has always been my specialty.  Never could quite figure out how to make the wrong reasons go away.

+ + +

Despite how I really feel and behave, I know the attitude I aspire to have.  Even if I pruned away the vanity and the fear of shame that largely keeps me in line, these thoughts --- if they remained --- might be enough:

• I want to keep my body strong and healthy as I grow older, in the context of unpredictable twists and turns of life and genetics, so that I can keep doing what needs to be done.  "Living out my state of life, the best I can under the circumstances," you might say.
• I don't want to be a glutton.

The longer I keep this up, the more obvious it becomes that my "wrong" reasons for working hard to stay at a low weight actually fight against these better desires.  The more I focus on the number on the scale and the fit of my clothes, the more tempted I am to slide back into bulimia -- not conducive to the long-term health I say I value -- and to a different sort of gluttony, the kind where I worry constantly about food, get all high-maintenance in restaurants, and snap at children because they ate my special yogurt that I was saving for my 3:30 p.m. snack.

Because one thing I've learned through the past four years is that there are eating disorders that keep you fat and eating disorders that keep you thin, but they're still disorders.  There are gluttonies that keep you fat and gluttonies that keep you thin, but both are no good way to live.

+ + +

So it's still hard to keep mentally and spiritually healthy with respect to food.  Still very hard.  I think I have the right target -- I know what is right -- and maybe it will go on being hard to hit that target, but at least I can see it and I can keep aiming for it every day.  I accept this cross.

+ + +

I noticed that certain old bad habits are easy to slide back into, and other old bad habits I have still never touched.

The ones that are easiest are the ones that are common to lots of people, especially the ones that aren't necessarily bad for other people who maintain their healthy weight without difficulty.

I have the misfortune of being a small person.  I calculate my maintenance calorie target to be something like 1800 calories per day.  This is not a lot.  The average American caloric intake in 2003 was 2,757 calories, according to the USDA.  And I live with a man who needs roughly 2,800 calories per day to maintain his weight, according to the roughest calculator that takes gender, height, weight, and activity level into account (here, scroll down to Method #2).

If I take my cues from people around me, I'm basically sunk.  And it's really easy to take cues from people around me.  The weight-gaining habits that I find easiest to slip into don't sound like bad behavior, they sound like normal-people behavior.  That's because they are normal-people behavior:

• Filling up my plate
• "Hey, can I have a few of your fries?"
• Pouring a full glass of beer or wine with my dinner
• Taking a second serving at lunch or dinner 
• Sharing a bedtime snack with the family
• Building meals on a foundation of whole grains
• Letting the number of vegetable/fruit servings per day slip below six

These are normal things for people to do and I cannot do them regularly without gaining weight.  Because I am a small person and I can only burn 1800 calories a day.  But because they are normal things for people to do, and because my kids and husband do all of them without trouble, it is really easy to slip into the habits.  Heck, it barely even counts as gluttony except that I know better.

The kinds of things that I don't ever slip into, that I find easy to avoid now, are the things that I firmly think of as gluttonous for the average person.

• I still don't eat meals between meals.  If I have a snack, I'm good about keeping it small.
• I still don't go through drive-throughs to get a snack.  I keep almonds and granola bars in my car.  I stick to those, and most days I never touch them, but if I need them they are there.
• When Mark goes out of town for four days, I still don't order an entire medium pizza and eat it sadly in front of the computer after the kids go to bed. 
• I still don't eat two or three eggs for breakfast.  (Unless I have just come from the gym and am in a breakfast restaurant on a Saturday morning after 8 AM and they have eggs Benedict and they won't sell me a half order.  I have found that in this circumstance it is useless to resist; better just to compensate with a lighter lunch.)
•  I still don't devour an entire box of cereal or sleeve of saltine crackers at one sitting. 
• I still cut small servings of desserts, doughnuts, etcetera.   (Taking seconds is an easy habit to fall into.  Cutting big pieces is not a habit I have a problem with.)
• I can't remember the last time I have gone on a binge through the pantry.  I may be cured of lonely binge eating.

There's nobody around me who regularly does any of these things (except that Mark eats big snacks, but I can mostly deal with that one).  I think of a drive-through as a Bad Place To Get A Snack.  I have internalized the idea that eating a whole pizza by yourself is bad.  I believe that desserts are best enjoyed in small portions.   These are hard to slide into without noticing.

I still eat shredded cheese out of the bag, though.  There's just a lot of shredded cheese around here.

I'll write more later.

The semi-annual gluttony retrospective.

Well, it's that time of year again.

In May and November of every year --

yeah, I'm a little late this holiday season, but at least I made it to the crucial "between Thanksgiving and Christmas" metric --

I write a few posts about the maintenance of my 2008 weight loss.  

I do this for a couple of reasons.

First, it gives me the opportunity to clean up the links to old posts about gluttony, weight loss, and weight maintenance.  Taken all together, the posts about gluttony and weight loss and such form a lengthy and growing series, and it's one that gets a lot of hits.  I can see from the stats that often someone comes to read through the whole thing.  I like to keep it maintained if I can.  (Right now it's a little ragged.  I'll let you know when I get it all fixed up.)

Second, it gives me a needed semi-annual accountability fix.  It always seems that right about every six months, I've started to slide a bit, and writing publicly about my lazy bad habits generally shames me into paying attention to them again long enough to do me some good.  This is a long-term project and it needs regular upkeep, even as the frequency of upkeep has dropped quite low.

Third, time has refined and tested many of my theories and ideas about how to defeat gluttony and, secondarily, how to resist gaining the weight back; also, how to maintain mental health and raise children with healthy attitudes toward bodies, food, and fitness.  As I stumbled along, I got a lot of things wrong or at least not quite right, and as I get older and learn things, I like to go back and see what I used to think and write, and ask myself if I have learned anything new.  I want to find places where I was wrong, and point them out here in this space, maybe go back and update old posts.

Readers:  

• what would you like to see here in the next few posts?  
• any stories from the trenches you'd like to share?
• recommendations of articles or books?  (A few people have sent me some already that I've saved for this)
• any questions?

The combox is yours.

 EDITED TO ADD:   Really, only one comment or question?  Maybe I've finally exhausted the topic!