I read an article today that shared some cold, hard truth: Most people (like 99%!) who are obese and who then lose weight, gain it all back. Only 2 out of 1,000 obese people who lose weight through non-surgical means keep it off. (Surgery gives you a 60% statistical chance of success, according to the surgeons who perform these surgeries. I'm sure the data there is clean, right?) *sarcasm font*
Having observed this phenomenon both with surgical and non-surgical methods, I have to ask why.
It boils down to: Life Is Unfair.
Genetics and ingrained habits like emotional eating are something we all know about and accept to a certain extent. I've said from the beginning of this crazy journey to healthy living that if you don't deal with the issues that got you fat in the first place, you won't be successful long term.
But something else happens in the body chemistry of people who are obese. After a certain amount of time (and children with obesity issues are VERY prone to this!) your body basically adapts to the extra fat on your body and decides that is the normal, preferred You. You now have a completely different chemical makeup than a person who had been at that weight throughout adult life. So even if you heal past the emotional eating, and learn about nutrition and exercise faithfully... the stakes are higher if you stray from the path.
Your body wants to get back to its "normal." So it is sending cravings, food/sugar addictions, slowing your metabolism, and resisting the very thing you are working so hard for. You can have the willpower and strength of a Spartan, but everyone has an occasional piece of cake. That piece of cake sets you back. That same piece of cake that a person who has never had a weight problem can burn off with a workout is an actual step toward regaining that 150 lbs you worked so hard to shed -especially because that first piece of cake makes your body, more than anyone else's, want a second piece.
I saw that happening this summer. I gained some of my weight back, effortlessly. I had counted on all my good habits -like working out and eating kale- to make up for the irregularity of my life, and thus my food intake. I literally did not have the time and mental energy required to be on top of My Healthy Lifestyle in the midst of chaos. I gained 10 pounds a MONTH while I was functionally homeless. The weight I gained did not start coming back off until a few weeks ago -several months into my new, stable life.
So, that <1% that keeps the weight off permanently -how do they do it?
Just like diabetics have to accept their lives include insulin shots and cancer patients have to accept the reality of chemotherapy, formerly obese people have to accept that this is a lifelong struggle that cannot be ignored. You must accept that Life Is Unfair.
It has to become an obsession with health -not simply fat loss or you will live and die by the scale and become someone no one wants to talk to. Obsess about your health as an overall objective. Congrats on your new hobby!
You have to accept that the things you did to get you where you wanted to be the first time are the things you will continue to do the rest of your life.
Plan the food carefully. (But my sister doesn't have to do that! Life Is Unfair.)
Follow the food plan faithfully. (But I'm on vacation! Life Is Unfair.)
Write down the food truthfully. (That is pain in the neck! Life Is Unfair.)
Keep challenging your workouts. (I just want to coast for a while! Life Is Unfair.)
Stay in therapy. (I feel like I shouldn't need this after so much time! Life Is Unfair.)
Commit to your faith life. (Man, that gets old! Life Is Unfair. -and only God can make it unfair in a direction that helps you.)
Commit to the funding it takes to be healthy. (Healthy groceries are expensive! Life Is Unfair.)
Commit to the time being healthy takes you. (I want to sleep in! Life Is Unfair.)
Whine and cry if you must (I do, often and with gusto!) and then get going.
See you at the gym. It's leg day.
Friday, January 22, 2016
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Elegy For Hope
Really, WH Auden nailed the mourning thing with Funeral Blues:
...The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
It's funny how when someone is dying you are mostly concerned about making sure the person is comfortable and knows they are loved. You push away the thoughts of the inevitable death at the end because the one we love is still right here with immediate needs. You don't want to admit there is still a kernel of hope rooted in an illogical corner of your heart that this is some sort of elaborate practical joke and one day the brain tumor just won't be there any more and we will say, "Ha, ha! Good one! You really had us going!" and plot revenge for the terrible scare we received.
But then, the person dies.
Then the surreal nature of death and dying hits you so hard you cannot breathe or see or think and you find yourself reminded of the strangest things, like how she fed your dog a bowlful of fruit that one time because the dog seemed to enjoy it so much and was flummoxed that the dog got sick. Or how she planned a dinner party for friends and coaxed her mom into doing the cooking. Or how she was a terrible driver by any measure. Or how she got up in the predawn darkness and held your hand while you stared off into space and tried to picture life without your mother on the day of her funeral.
And she won't be there to hold your hand at this next funeral. This time, she is the star.
On an intellectual level, you are happy for her because she is in heaven and free from all pain and healed of cancer and restored to her best self and in something like 10 seconds to her we will all be reunited, yadda yadda whatever.
In a couple of days we will all gather to remember and celebrate Hope Masibay McGinnis of Chicago, Illinois, and honor the amazing person that she was. Then we will go back to our houses and apartments and regular lives and look around in confusion at everyone who has not yet realized the ENTIRE WORLD IS DIFFERENT, because they did not know her, and cannot bring to mind the sparkle in her eyes when she laughed or that silly giggle that drove us crazy or the way she took TEN YEARS to read through a menu and twenty to eat what she had ordered.
I have known Hope since 1994. I cannot fit a 20+ year friendship into one blog post.
She loved. She was loved. That's a pretty big life.
...The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
It's funny how when someone is dying you are mostly concerned about making sure the person is comfortable and knows they are loved. You push away the thoughts of the inevitable death at the end because the one we love is still right here with immediate needs. You don't want to admit there is still a kernel of hope rooted in an illogical corner of your heart that this is some sort of elaborate practical joke and one day the brain tumor just won't be there any more and we will say, "Ha, ha! Good one! You really had us going!" and plot revenge for the terrible scare we received.
But then, the person dies.
Then the surreal nature of death and dying hits you so hard you cannot breathe or see or think and you find yourself reminded of the strangest things, like how she fed your dog a bowlful of fruit that one time because the dog seemed to enjoy it so much and was flummoxed that the dog got sick. Or how she planned a dinner party for friends and coaxed her mom into doing the cooking. Or how she was a terrible driver by any measure. Or how she got up in the predawn darkness and held your hand while you stared off into space and tried to picture life without your mother on the day of her funeral.
And she won't be there to hold your hand at this next funeral. This time, she is the star.
On an intellectual level, you are happy for her because she is in heaven and free from all pain and healed of cancer and restored to her best self and in something like 10 seconds to her we will all be reunited, yadda yadda whatever.
In a couple of days we will all gather to remember and celebrate Hope Masibay McGinnis of Chicago, Illinois, and honor the amazing person that she was. Then we will go back to our houses and apartments and regular lives and look around in confusion at everyone who has not yet realized the ENTIRE WORLD IS DIFFERENT, because they did not know her, and cannot bring to mind the sparkle in her eyes when she laughed or that silly giggle that drove us crazy or the way she took TEN YEARS to read through a menu and twenty to eat what she had ordered.
I have known Hope since 1994. I cannot fit a 20+ year friendship into one blog post.
She loved. She was loved. That's a pretty big life.
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