PB Ain't Just Peanut Butter Anymore

I met with my new therapist on Friday and I was really pleased with her. Of course the first time was spent catching her up on my past and what I'm trying to do now. She seemed very receptive to my Intuitive or Normal Eating goals and tackling the emotional issues behind my eating. Next time I plan on taking some of my literature in with me (mainly the Food and Feelings workbook and Karen's new book "Nice Girls Finish Fat") and show her what I'd like to focus on with her in sessions.

In the meantime, I have been taking a more serious look at the LAP-Band surgery. First I went to my local hospital/surgeon's web site and went over all of their extensive information about the surgery and what happens after in their program. Then I went exploring on the web and found some blogs by people who have had the surgery. Not "success" stories hand-picked by bariatric surgery offices that only say how wonderful it is, but uncensored, unfiltered accounts by real people.

I have to say I am not convinced to have the procedure done. I learned a new term today -- Productive Burp, or PB as it's abbreviated on all of these blogs. This occurs once the band is in place when you eat food too quickly or the piece is too big to fit through the opening, and it all comes flying back out. Somewhere I read a recommendation to carry plastic bags with you wherever you go to collect these PBs. Bloggers wrote about PBing into an empty bottle and horrifying their friends with what could also be called Projectile Barfing. This didn't sound very fun at all.

But do you want to know what caused the biggest reaction? When I read that I couldn't drink carbonated beverages any more. I love my seltzer water (flavored, but no sugar or artificial sweeteners), and I looked at that information with a huge amount of sadness. There was a list of other foods that could also cause problems -- fibrous foods, beef, peanut butter (hey, I could PB on PB!) among others -- which all added up to me feeling uneasy about the whole thing.

Is that petty? Am I missing out on something that might benefit me because some foods or beverages would have to be eliminated or greatly reduced? I never eat raw onions because they upset my stomach, but I don't feel bad about that, because it benefits me in the long run. Maybe I would eventually feel the same way about seltzer water and steak. I guess I just don't like those decisions being forced on me.

What bothered me the most, though, was the general feeling from these blogs that they couldn't lose weight fast enough, that the band wasn't limiting their food intake enough, and their doctors were in agreement with this. One blogger said the doctor told her she should only be able to eat half of a frozen diet dinner, which just sounded crazy to me. It just smacked of that extremist diet mentality that I've worked so hard to recover from these last few years.

If any of you know more about this, please let me know. I just know I feel great about the future as far as my therapy as involved, but very wary about the surgical route. I should probably listen to my intuition, right? Or am I just afraid of making a serious commitment?

Hanging In There

Often when I have lapses in writing, it means I'm not doing well; I'm not "journaling" (when did that officially become a verb?) because I'm emotionally shut down and in a bad way.

But this time, the last two weeks or so, I've just been too darn busy, and I've actually been doing pretty well. After foraging my way through the Foodie Fest known as Memorial Day weekend (including one family reunion and two picnics), I felt so bloated and sick of food that I found myself WANTING to eat better and more mindfully. And even though I had more foodie events (family birthday dinner, meals out, movies and a party laden with high-calorie hors d'oeuvres) I had a true desire not to go unconscious and mindlessly overeat. And I didn't!

I admit part of the motivation was another doctor's appointment, which I had yesterday. And I'll also confess that after the appointment I let myself splurge a little (it was the first night of our town's yearly carnival). But unlike the previous few months, where the two weeks or so after the appointment would be a free-for-all, this morning I truly wanted to get right back on the Intuitive Eating track. And I did.

Maybe it's my love of routine, which reduces my stress and allows me to have the illusion of control over some aspect of my life when so much of it is chaos. But it's just easier to get back to the "food plan" I've set up for myself. I use the term food plan in the loosest possible terms: while I do measure just a few things when I'd like to know the suggested portion size, I am not counting calories (which I know is driving my doctor nuts -- he keeps asking me how many calories I'm eating every day and I have no clue). I do eat some "diet" or lower calorie foods or condiments, but only because I like the taste of them. But otherwise I'm pretty much eating what I want.

A big thing I've been working on and getting better at is leaving some food on my plate. Even if it's just a spoonful of food, I try to leave something behind at least once a day. This is usually dinner, because my breakfasts aren't that big and my lunches are usually packed and both are somewhat measured out and portion-controlled. Dinner is more of a free-for-all, served family style at the table, and it's much easier to get big portions and seconds. So that's where it's most challenging -- and in the end rewarding -- to leave something on the plate.

I find when I'm eating out it tends to be bread that I leave on the plate -- restaurant sandwiches are so huge, with the majority of it being the bread or roll, that I wind up leaving half the bread behind, and I can still feel completely satisfied. I do find myself rebelling against ordering salads in restaurants: I make my own salads every day for lunch, and it's rare that I can get one better than mine that are still relatively healthy. I never use iceberg lettuce (I vary between Romaine, Boston, red or green leaf), and the low-calorie dressings in most restaurants are horrible. At home I use almost exclusively the Paul Newman salad dressings. My favorites are the Newman's Own Lighten Up Honey Mustard, Low Fat Sesame Ginger and Balsamic Vinaigrette -- I prefer them over a lot of regular, high calorie dressings. And I like using small portions of dried fruit, nuts and different cheeses like Gorgonzola or feta to jazz up the flavor. Compared to my creations, that little pile of tasteless iceberg lettuce with some nasty chemical-tasting dressing on it isn't worth putting in my mouth!

Unfortunately, in a lot of places it's hard to find something on the menu that's half-way healthy and isn't a salad, so in those instances I just order what I want and try to either leave something on the plate or take the rest home in a doggie bag. I will give props to the Black Bean Burger at Chili's and the Greek Salad at Panera. I got the salad to go the other day and realized they didn't give me any dressing; I went ahead and ate it without it, and it had plenty of flavor just with the feta and kalamata olives on it.

The biggest victory for me was the hors d'ouevres party I mentioned above. This was at a person's house that is often a binge-trigger place for me. I can't count the times I've left there feeling stuffed to the gills and miserable because I went on eating auto-pilot. The hostess is a good cook, and that day the finger food was primarily high-calorie and loaded with lots of sugar or fat -- it would have been so easy to go wild. And this time had an even bigger binge potential because it was attended by a lot of people I don't know very well and not that comfortable with. This is usually the recipe for a major binge episode for me. But I was amazed at my ability to eat a little without feeling deprived. I took one little tartlet (it had cheese and other yummies in it), one little piece of toasted bread with seafood dip on it (super creamy and fat-laden), and a couple bites of the dessert, a chocolate-dipped sugar cone bowl filled with mousse and topped with berries. It was my daughter's dessert, and after she had her couple bites, I took a couple more, then threw the rest away.

Part of my restraint was due to the fact that after the party I was planning to go out with my daughter for dinner and a movie and didn't want to snowball myself into a huge binge. And I didn't: I got a veggie sub for dinner and left half the roll on the plate, and at the movie I got Twizzlers and only ate three pieces of it. In fact, the bag is still sitting in my living room!

I'm not claiming victory here. I'm aware I'm in a good place right now food-wise, and I prefer to stay that way, but I know there will always be bumps in the road. This Intuitive Eating journey has been a difficult one with plenty of relapses, but I guess after trying again and again to implement better habits and beliefs, some of it might finally be sinking in and taking hold.

The Sticky Roll Incident

About two weeks ago I was having one of those days: the ones where nothing seems to be going right and you want to turn around and go back to bed, hoping you can start all over again and try to get it right the second time. It was also a very hectic day with longer hours at work, then chauffeuring my daughter to her orthodontist, grabbing a quick supper, then going to gymnastics (Mabel's hand is healed now and she's back to hand-springing and round-offing all over the place).



While I was waiting for the three hour (!!!) practice to end, occupying myself with book reading in my car, my cell phone rang and it was my hubby. He announced to me that since I had such a rough day he would have a surprise for me when I got home. By that point the day was almost over, and to be honest, the book reading had done wonders for my mood. Other than being tired from the long day, I actually didn't feel so bad anymore.



So I got home, and there on the kitchen island was an entire half sheet pan (11.5x16.5 inches) brimming with sticky nut rolls. Hubby was so proud of himself, and I must tell you, they looked and smelled fantastic. But to be honest, the very first thought in my head was, "Oh, no..." I did eat one; I had been planning to get some kind of snack on the way home from gymnastics (Mabel's always starving after her workout, and since on those days we eat supper around 4 p.m., by 8 I'm usually a little peckish, too), so I drove straight home, since I knew any surprise from hubby would more than likely be food-related. I guess I was hoping it would be some little individual treat made just for me, not a bevy big enough for a party.

Later I tried to explain to him that I'm learning and actually accepting the fact that food, especially treats like those rolls, cannot really comfort and give me "happiness." I appreciated the thought and effort he put into it, but the food itself is irrelevant, and I can no longer give it that power anymore. Hubby listened and nodded and said, "You're right, you're right..."

I also tried to tell him that making enough for a small army isn't a great idea; I didn't say it to him, but I equated it in my mind to giving a recovering alcoholic a case or keg of beer. He also listened to this and said he would make an effort to give most of the pan of rolls away. Within the next couple days we did just that: I gave some to my pastor and my mom, and he gave some to his parents, too. We even wound up throwing a couple away when they got too old. Out of that enormous pan, I wound up eating two of the rolls, which I considered a major accomplishment.

In fact, in recent weeks I've discovered that I'm doing much, much better with foods that in the past I would consider major binge trigger foods. There is a Mennonite-run bakery and store in our county that makes the best orange iced rolls, and normally when I buy the round pan of them I scarf them all down within 48 hours, and usually feeling sick to my stomach from the fat and sugar overload. About six weeks ago I bought a pan, and they tasted great as usual, but I didn't feel the drive or compulsion to eat them all. In fact, I wound up throwing two of the rolls away when they got stale! That was a completely new experience for me.

This healthier relationship with food has been pretty far-reaching: I can take two pieces of candy out of a full box full and walk away satisfied, whereas in the past I would not be able to pull myself away and the box would be emptied in an evening. This past Saturday my mom went to the local farmer's market and showed up at my house with some Amish-made snickerdoodle cookies. Last summer she got these for me, too, and I remember going wild over them and eating a whole pack of them in a day. This time she gave me four cookies, and I still have two in the plastic container where I'm storing them. We have an ice cream place near our house that's only open from May-October. Last summer we seemed to be there every other day and I always got something, usually a big sundae loaded with tons of goodies. While my daughter still goes fairly regularly, I couldn't tell you the last time I actually got any. The ice cream's still as good, but for some reason I never seem to be in the mood for it at the times she wants to go.

A couple nights ago during Mabel's gymnastics I went to the mega-mart to stock up on essentials: contact saline, deodorant, etc. These trips used to be the big hunt for binge foods, which I would then chow down on in the car until the end of practice, and the rest would be hidden away for secret binge eating later. Two nights ago I walked through the bakery and not a single thing appealed to me. I bought my daughter some cinnamon bagels (she hates raisins and it's really hard finding cinnamon bagels without them!), and the only food-related item I got for myself was seltzer water! I did have a passing thought of, "Hmmm, what treats can I find for myself?" but it was quickly answered with a shrug of indifference and the reply that I don't really need to or want to.

Here's the thing: I'm still eating cookies and ice cream and candy; I'm not telling myself I shouldn't eat them or that I should reduce the portions. Instead I find myself enjoying the amount I do eat, when I'm in the mood for it, and then I'm quite content. I'm not feeling deprived just eating one cookie or skipping a treat entirely, and I'm not obsessing over the remaining candy, cookies, etc., that are still in the house. Sometimes I actually even forget about them! And you know what? It's such a RELIEF not to feel that way. I feel like I've had some kind of demon exorcised from my body and mind. And I'm suspecting that just maybe, this is what "normal" eating is all about.

I'm not saying I have been the "perfect" normal eater. I have had a couple days here and there where I have the munchies and the drive to overeat. But I've noticed that these incidents were times when I felt tired and run-down by too much running around or not enough sleep. So I've been trying to get more sleep and more down time to help combat this. It's great to me to be able to start putting these things together -- for years it always seemed to be such a mystery why I was so preoccupied and needed eating. To be able to pinpoint these things is wonderful to me. And hopefully, I can avoid any more binge eating episodes of weeks and months that lead to more and more weight gain and its accompanying depression.

I Have Returned

After several days of recovery and catching up at home and work, I'm finally finding the time to report in on my incredible trip to England.

This is me on the left with two of my travel companions on our first day in London. We are standing in front of the fountain at Picadilly Circus, which over the course of our week became our hub and reference point. From here we could walk to Soho, Leicester Square and Trafalgar Square, to name a few. There were lots of shops, restaurants and theaters and of course, plenty of people! Although I've been told the crowds we encountered were paltry in comparison to the throngs that appear in the summer tourist season.

We stayed at a bed and breakfast on Lillie Road, Fulham, although we were very close to the Earl's Court expo centers, and our closest Underground station was West Brompton. The four of us stayed in a basement "flat" that was quite roomy. This was my bedroom for the week. I have to admit I found it odd that my bed didn't have a top sheet, just a bottom sheet and a duvet (what they call comforters over there). I also wasn't thrilled with my feather pillows and was fortunate that I brought my allergy medication along to reduce my reaction to them.

The picture at right was our little kitchen, but from what I gather it's fairly typical of an English kitchen. Compared to us Americans, they have tiny little refrigerators, which was fine for us since we weren't doing much eating there. Also located in the kitchen (behind the cupboard door between the sink and the white water heater) was a small front loading washing machine. But this was very similar to the one my sister had when she lived in the U.K. When I showed this picture to my sister she looked at the stove and recalled fondly having a similar small broiler section in the middle of the stove. In a little coincidence, our kitchen had a plug-in tea kettle that was very similar to the one my husband bought me recently, and it felt a little bit like home.

I won't get to all my journeys in England in today's post, but I will get to them in the next few days, with accompanying photographs. I have so many pictures from my trip! I borrowed my daughter's new digital camera which can hold up to 1500 photos, and I wound up using more than 500 of them! There's no way I can post them all, nor would anyone want me to, because I took a lot of extra shots of plaques and displays at museums to help me remember what certain buildings or items were once I got home. However, if you would be interested in seeing them, send me your e-mail address and I can invite you to see the entire album at Snapfish.

Being a Gemini, I always seem to have two opposing opinions or feelings on most things, and this trip had them, too. There were things I loved about England: the pop culture, the interesting foods, all the museums and historical sites, even just hearing the British accents and their colloquialisms. But there were things I missed, too: my American bathroom, my electrical hair gadgets (we couldn't get them to work), and of course missing my husband and daughter.

Having said that, there were things I didn't miss back home: all the endless housekeeping; chasing after my husband and daughter and reminding them of all the things they forget to do; being covered in dog hair 24 hours a day; and the crappy, wintry Appalachian weather which seemed to come full force while I was away.

As for England, my biggest problem was in the end my own fault, so I have no one to blame but myself. We had so much we wanted to see in a limited amount of time, so we crammed in as many activities and events as possible. This meant a LOT of walking, and I just couldn't keep up with my fast-walking travel companions. I don't blame them; I admit I'm out of shape because of my recent weight gain and falling woefully behind on my exercise. I had all these plans of getting back on track in December and January, busting hump on the treadmill and having myself ready to trek all over England, but then I got sick -- twice -- and I found myself barely able to get my daily chores done, let alone exercise.

I wound up spending the majority of the week in some kind of pain, whether it was my feet, knees, ankles or hips. My body just couldn't handle being on the run from 8 in the morning until 10 at night. My friends didn't have these problems, but let's face it, I weigh a lot more than they do. Perhaps if I had strapped on big, heavy backpacks on them and had them walk 12-14 hours a day they may have had a similar experience.

But, in true Gemini fashion, I did find a positive to all that walking! For the first time ever I didn't gain any weight on vacation, despite eating heavy meals like fish and chips or roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, drinking pints of cider and treating myself to desserts like a Cornish high tea (scones with clotted cream and strawberry preserves) or British biscuits (cookies). Being on the run all the time meant I didn't have time to mindlessly snack, and I pretty much stuck to three meals a day and maybe one snack.

This reminds me of a restaurant advertising campaign I saw everywhere in London and had to take a picture of it to share with you. If you can't read the caption, it says, "DIETS ARE SAD. Instead, enjoy proper food, three times a day. (Not too much, not too little.) Eat With Your Head." I saw this on the very first day in London, and I actually wound up practicing it while I was there. And the great thing was, I've been pretty much continuing it here now that I'm home. I realized on this trip that so much of my overeating has to do with boredom, filling up time, procrastinating, and of course the old attempt at comforting myself. And whether it was the busy schedule, the change of location or removal of my home triggers, it just didn't happen. As proof, I had taken a bag of candy bars along on the trip and I wound up bringing it back untouched. In addition, I brought home some British candy, biscuits and crisps (potato chips), but so far I've barely touched them. So far this "Eat With Your Head" plan is working, and I'll do my best to keep it going.

Food Drama at the Mega-Mart

I had some interesting food experiences yesterday. Hubby wasn't going to be home for supper, so I decided to get some Chinese for my daughter, since it's her favorite food and we don't go as a family because it seriously disagrees with Hubby's digestive system.

The way my schedule worked, the only time I could get the food was around 2:30 in the afternoon. It was early, but no insanely so -- we had to leave for my daughter's gymnastics lesson at 5 p.m., so we basically have to eat in the 4 o'clock hour anyway.

But I decided yesterday to eat mine even earlier, around 3. This felt odd, but the food smelled so good, I hadn't eaten a lot throughout the day and figured what the heck. I had two helpings and put the rest away for when my daughter came home from school.

I actually felt kind of rebellious about eating what was going to be my supper so early in the day. But the food stuck with me pretty well, and I wasn't tempted to go all "Hobbit" and eat a second supper at 6 p.m.

I did go shopping during the two-hour gymnastics class, and I had a whole little mini-drama at the worldwide mega-store that my friends and I have named the "Evil Empire." I don't particularly love going to this monster store, but in the very rural, sparsely populated area where I live, there's very little choice in the matter.

The drama ensued as I started thinking about buying a roll of cookie dough. Back at the beginning of my "dark period," I would regularly buy one and spoon the whole thing into my gullet in a numbing, calorie-laden binge. I haven't done this in a couple of months now, which has been a small victory in my mind as I try to recover.

So what made me suddenly want one of these binge foods again? Was it the little child in me, the spoiled brat wanting to exert her control in to spite the 2008 goals I have set for myself? Is part of me feeling the slightest pangs of deprivation as I try to be more conscious of what, when and why I'm eating. I'm not dieting or restricting, but still, there seem to be some kind of boundaries or rules coming back into play, and the knee-jerk reaction is to rebel against that.

I'm definitely nervous about preparing for my upcoming trip to London (I'm leaving Jan. 25!). Making sure I have everything packed, that I don't forget anything important, and of course the stress of traveling and the joys of airports. I also have this dread about the state of my house when I return, because my 9 year-old daughter and 40-something husband are pretty much equal in their abilities to clean up after themselves (not very good). Throw two very rambunctious Labradors into the mix, and who knows what disasters I will come home to Feb. 1. So it's no wonder I'm looking for something to calm me down.

But as I trolled the aisles I tried to rationalize all of this in my head. Would a roll of cookie dough really help me? How would I feel after I ate it? I tried to really focus on and break down what I was craving food-wise and figure out what would satisfy that without making me feel sluggish and half-nauseated afterwards.

I determined I wanted something with chocolate, but not something hard like a candy bar. I wanted something soft, but not as cold as ice cream. I wound up in the dairy aisle looking at the pudding cups, and the only flavor that appealed to me was the double chocolate flavor, which happened to be 100-calorie and fat free. I picked up the package of six cups and walked away kind of surprised at myself.

Even more shocking? Before I left the dairy section I found myself picking up a container of cottage cheese. I haven't eaten this stuff in months and months, sick to death of it after eating it constantly in my dieting days. The very thought of it repulsed me and I avoided it like the plague. But I realized I could really go for a small bowl of this with some pineapple mixed in for some added sweetness.

I viewed all of these incidents as signs of progress -- I'm slowly losing my biases against certain foods and breaking down the associations I've placed on them. I'm loosening my rules of when a meal is supposed to be eaten, and I'm doing my best to figure out what I really want and why.

Update on the new hair cut. As expected, Hubby wasn't crazy about it. Maybe it will grow on him in time. Or I'll grow it out. But right now I'm really liking the change.