Weighting to Change

I'm ready to admit that I'm slightly obsessed with sensational weight loss stories. I've even toyed with the idea of telling my story to some glossy rag in the idealized hope that someone will read it and become inspired to make healthier choices in his or her life. I don't know why I believe this to be true, except that for an hour or so after reading one I find myself thinking, "Wow... I could really dedicate myself to eating more kale," or "Gee, if she can climb Mount Kilimanjaro, I don't see why I shouldn't." There's something inherently inspirational in seeing the physical representation of change in the "Before and After" pictures that always accompany such a story.

But changing human behavior is difficult. It takes sustained motivation, determination, and frequently the undertaking of a logistical nightmare. It takes maintenance after that, which a lot of people forget and then follow up with a mint chocolate chip relapse. But despite these barriers, I believe lasting change is possible. I have to believe it, if for no other reason than to maintain my current kale intake.

It's likely too early for me to insist that my change is lasting. I have adopted the approach that those in recovery from drug and alcohol addiction do: you're never recovered, you're in recovery. To be in recovery one must be constantly working, ever-attuned to the potential for slipping back into old patterns of behavior. In fact, this is perhaps the biggest lesson I've learned during my process, and the best lesson anyone could take from a glossy rag re-telling of my story. In the past year I did work on myself. I also white-knuckled it when I forgot that I wasn't done working. No matter how painful, frustrating, or embarrassing the emotion or memory I was trying to suppress, it was always easier to look it straight in the face than to continue gripping the handlebars of denial.

As a member of the addictions field, I am absolutely shocked that obesity is not more universally approached as a function of addiction. The parallels are undeniable, but then again, this approach would ruin a multi-million dollar industry of "lose all the weight you want by doing absolutely nothing difficult." And few people get to the point of losing homes, family and jobs due to obesity, so I doubt the connection between food addiction and traditional substance abuse will be popularly recognized anytime soon.

I'm no expert, but I know what worked for me. More than 100 pounds and nearly 2 years since I started this journey, I find that the basic tenants remain true: I eat primarily healthfully (fruits, veggies, whole grains, lean protein, low-fat dairy, all the stuff your mom and your doctor tell you to eat and all in moderation). I exercise most days (aerobic and/or strength training). I try to be aware of how my emotional states are affecting my appetite (this is the non-logistical aspect, vague, and often the most difficult for me). I try (and fail) to be well rested. I try to keep a positive attitude and laugh as much as I possibly can, which sometimes means making a fool of myself for my own entertainment.

I love the, "Well, I could be dead tomorrow so I'm going to enjoy this [insert delicious treat] today," excuse. Hell, it was one of my favorites. The fact of the matter is, since I dropped the weight I find that I wasn't really enjoying it... I was using it to enjoy a brief moment in the context of the majority of the time being uncomfortable, self-conscious, and miserable. Feeling healthy and strong the majority of the time is SO much more enjoyable than those brief moments of epicurean delight. I only regret it took me 24 years to figure that out.

So, I guess I don't know for sure that change is possible at age 50, or 75, or 100. But if those glossy rags are any indication, change is ALWAYS possible. Even in Waco.