Fundraiser Pizza happens

I’ve been thoroughly invested in my alternative exercise routine for several days, weeks, months?!?! all to no avail. Still no weight lost. I’ve been spending 20 to 30 sweat-heavy minutes fast walking on my treadmill several mornings a week, jog cutting my lawn, stretch painting my living room and squat gardening, but other than an increasingly nasty demeanor and creaky knees, nothing has happened.

My calorie count, I admit, has developed a mind of its own lately. I did eat some pizza the other day, but it was fundraiser pizza for a good cause and therefore doesn’t really count. Actually it’s amazing how many excuses for eating poorly I can come up with.

Celebration food, for example, is a gimme. When at parties, events and other social gatherings where food is provided it is expected that you eat whatever it is. I’m not one to disappoint and that's half the fun of the party. Cake, for example, if you don’t eat the cake at a celebration/birthday/wedding what kind of person does that make you? (other than skinny?)

The other day I went to a bar with my skinny coworker Angie and she ordered fried pickles. Granted, I did talk her into it, but I can’t help it that she could only eat half of them and virtually forced me to finish them, can I? I didn’t want to be rude, I’m trying to make friends here. Breaking bread, or in this case pickles, is how relationships are made. What was I supposed to do? Throw them out? My grandma would turn over in her grave. I come from a poor family and we just don’t waste perfectly good fried pickles, which probably helps explain the PHAT blog.

Guess who's back? My fat ass.

So ...

This is a fair representation of what I'd look like in a bathing suit.

This reminds me of a song, "So here we are again ... I guess it must be fate..."

Yeah. If I had to give advice to people who have lost weight and want to keep it off it would be to do the opposite of what I did. 

"I'll never eat like that again! I can't believe I ever did! I'm a changed person now, I'll never gain the weight back," said stupid me three years ago. 

... Well here I am four years and 20 pounds heavier (Shoves cookie down throat in despair). Slooow clap. I started noticing the gain this past year - it's been, as my mother would say, "a doozie." I confused chocolate cake with therapy, apparently. 

I don't know how it happened. ... I know exactly how it happened. A lot of reasons and one simple reason. I stopped counting calories. I thought I could self monitor and "guesstimate" the calories going into my mouth. Nope. Nada. No way, Jose. Clearly, I've been deeply underestimating my calories and my love of fresh pastries. 

Last night I sat on the couch to write with an unopened bag of Pepperidge Farm Double Chocolate Milanos. One hour later I reached into the bag and my hand went halfway down to reach the cookie - it was half empty! I had eaten at least ?? cookies without even realizing it (Grabs gut fat in disgust).

I am not proud of myself. Changes need to be made. Attention must be paid! 

This year, starting right now in the cold hard light of day, I aspire to lose about 40 pounds. Gulp. 

Help me out here: What are some of your weight-loss tricks?

Fat Snobbery

Since I've lost 30+ pounds (!) people ask me all the time about weight loss and exercise and wanna gab about nutrition and stuff, which is great. I want to spread my vast knowledge about all things fatness to the world, plus I love to hear myself talk.

Sometimes in the break room at work I'll just hang out and wait for someone to approach me and ask about, or comment on my weight. Sometimes I have to dig for a compliment, but I'm patient ... and I don't let them leave until they say something nice about me. ;)

My friend, (we'll call her Ginger), however, never gets asked about her weight loss and she's lost over 55 pounds(!) in the last year.

That's what got me thinking about Fat Snobbery.

Ginger is skinny - now. Us fat gals, however, just look at her with disdain, "Like that skinny bitch knows anything about being fat." We'd just give a girl like her a sideways glance and think about how miserable she probably is starving herself all the time. "I may be fat, but at least I'm happy."

I used to think Ginger was just being an attention whore. "Nobody ever asks me about weight loss," she'd whine with a sad face. Me, me, me. And I'd be like, "Get over it, Ginger, you're skinny, we hate you."

But now that I've lost a bit of weight and I'm starting to look pretty damn sexy (if I do say so myself), I've realized Ginger might have a point.

My heavier lady friends are starting to give me that sideways glance too. Those bitches. After all the advice I've given them! And the compliments I've graciously accepted!

Us Fat ladies are snobs. I've seen it in action so many times. A group of ladies will be talking about trying to lose weight - it is our favorite subject - and the skinny girls pipes up and we all look at her like she's 3-day-old leftovers, or worse, a man.

I didn't use to like Ginger at all until she showed me a whole bunch of pictures of herself FAT. Then I liked her, unless I was looking at her in one of those super cute dresses she's always parading around in.

Don't get me wrong, skinny girl prejudice is fine, but it shouldn't be used against a former FAT girl. I'll always despise the girl who was never fat. I'm not perfect.

Being fat gives you character, it has to, people would never pay you the time of day otherwise. Fat girls are often the funniest, smartest, most talented girls in the room. We've learned to work our other assets because our bodies get ignored (if we're lucky).

Of course, once a girl is skinny, if you didn't know her when she fat, you'd think she was always skinny and hate her as much as you'd hate a girl that never knew the hard life of a fat girl.

That's why I think we should all wear buttons on our shirts with pictures of us at our fattest. That way we can know who deserves the sideways glance and who doesn't.

The question I've been waiting for

You know you're overweight when you lose 20 pounds and nobody notices.

My weight was the elephant in the room. After determining I needed to lose 50 pounds, I gained 20. I've since lost that 20, but for the longest time, nobody said Anything.

It was discouraging. I mean, I'm only trying to lose weight to impress people and get them to talk about how great I look. If no one is going to do that, why should I bother?

Now that I've lost 5 more pounds, bringing the total to 25, people are starting to notice and ask the question many of us long for more than a marriage proposal: "Have you lost weight?"

When I hear about people losing weight there is only one thing I want to know and I want to know it immediately - right after I see the pictures of the person fat - "How did you do it?"

I don't know why, but I'm always hoping they will say, "Every time I took this pill I bought at WalMart I lost a pound." They never say that.

I'll tell what I did, but you're not going to like it. ...

Eating less and exercising more.
B-O-R-I-N-G, I know, but the figure being revealed underneath all of this fat is anything but. ;)

I started using Sparkpeople.com and counting my calories.

I thought that calorie counting went out of style with Jane Fonda, but it's actually like a religion, like yoga, or Facebook.

My most used phrase - after "Somebody give me a beer" used to be, (said in whiny voice) "I don't know why I can't lose weight, I don't even eat that much."

Turns out I was eating about 4000 calories in a day when between 1800 - 2000 would be what it took to keep my weight stable.

There are about 500 calories in one Arby's Chocolate Turnover, which is the saddest thing that ever happened to me besides two divorces.

As for the exercise ... I've upped it to one hour or more a day. Yeah, it's a lot, but I'm getting used to it and it feels good now, almost as good as that extra hour sleep I used to get. I've also started speed walking to the bathroom at work. I think it's helping.

I still have 45 pounds to lose, but instead of seeing it as an impossible feat, like climbing Everest, or getting people to believe Obama was born in the U.S., I know it's just a matter of time ... like death, I know I'll get there.

50 pounds of weight loss!

I'm happy to announce that I have lost 50 pounds!
First I lost five pounds. Then I gained five pounds, but then, again, I lost five pounds ...
Gained five...
Lost five...
Gained five...
Lost five...
Gained five ...
You get the picture, right?

All together I must have lost at least 50 pounds and so far I have totally blown this diet thing. My losing 50 pounds (at one time) is as likely as finding Osama Bin Laden. (Were still trying to do that, right?)

I'm learning though. For example, I've learned that five chicken nuggets from Wendy's will gain me one pound and five sessions of daily exercise will keep my weight steady. I've also learned that smelling doughnuts is almost as good as eating them and that it's rude if said doughnut is in your co-worker's hand.

When I see people around town they always ask me how the diet is going, which I can't figure out. I mean, you're looking at me. What do you think?

Really I appreciate the interest. The other day I told a "friend" that I felt bad about letting readers down and not losing much weight in such a long time. It was pointed out to me that perhaps people are enjoying my NOT losing weight more anyway. True. I myself love it when other people fail. It builds up my self-esteem.

Weight, however, has been lost. On the other hand so has humility and pride, but it's a trade off I signed up for.

Since I've begun my weight loss humiliation, I've actually lost a total of 10 pounds - most of it from my chest.

But my body is stronger - which will be good for when I invariably weigh much more than I do now.

I get in about 30 minutes of exercise most days and my body is looking better, if not smaller. I have a dream where one day I shed my fat outer shell and underneath a firm, trim, sexy body is revealed. Then I wake up and I'm smashing my scale against the refrigerator again.

Some Good Advice

A friend sent me a version of the following in a chain email about getting older and maybe a little wider ;) It reminded me of something my Grandma would have said.

The email said I was supposed to send it to seven people, but I’ll just give it to you here instead. It eases that ever-present fear of “getting old.” It encourages me to strive for a little less seriousness and little more joy. I hope the same for you. …

"I would never trade my amazing friends, wonderful life, or loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become kinder and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, extravagant.

I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 a.m. and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 and 70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love..... I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten and I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody’s beloved pet gets hit by a car? Broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face.

So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think... I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day (if I feel like it)."

Photo: My Grandma. The greatest Grandma that ever lived.

Lie to Me?

Sometimes even Mom can't lie to save your feelings.

"I saw you on TV yesterday," Mom said to me the other day.

"What was I doing?" I knew what I was doing that got me on TV (covering a court case for the newspaper), what I meant was was I moving or standing still.

Is it only fat people who are obsessed with their exact position in video/photographic media? I'm no exception, in any case.

You know where this conversation is going, right?

"You were standing still ... " she said.

My mother is so observant, which makes her hesitation on my next question hard to figure.

"How did I look?"

Crickets could be heard. She stared at me wide-eyed. She took a puff off her Marlboro. The sun set and the moon rose. No words were spoken.

"Did I look really fat?"

Even the crickets didn't speak. Her face started to form a questioning look, but she must have thought better about pretending that she didn't hear or understand the question.

"I know, it's bad, I was the fattest person there," I said. Yes, the art of self depreciation is alive and well.

"Well, maybe you should try to lose some weight," she said.

And there it was.

Sometimes even Mom can't lie to save your feelings. Sometimes we just need to hear the truth.

Photo: Mom singing in the choir at church. She is a living saint, which is why she didn't lie.