An Open Letter to All the Politicians in America

An Open Letter to All the Politicians in America

Dear Politicians,

The people that you truly answer to

would like to know if you care

 about more 

than you, yourself, and more of you.

Turn off the noise.

Turn off the drumbeat.

Turn off the press.

Turn off the sound.

It's time to earn our respect,

so open up your ears and

sit your asses down.

Hang up your party hat,

kick the lobbyists out the door,

put your wallet back in your pocket-empty-

just like all the people you're supposed to be

fighting for.

Close your eyes on your prejudice learned,

open your arms to citizenship earned,

walk away from the needy hypocrites

who are drowning you in their Party Politics.

STOP funding the lazy

START properly funding the brave

Invest in the future

and quit being a bitchy

partisan slave

Quit qualifying your quantifications

and check your ever-growing paychecks at the door.

Turn off the symphony of speculation

Sit down together at the table

And use COMMON SENSE 

to save this broken nation!!

Sincerely,

Tracy Sand

A Patriot

The Mean Girl

My Inner Voice is an Abusive Bitch

She is mean, volatile and cruel. She works me over in ways the" Mean Girls" could only dream of.  Every time I look in the mirror she mercilessly tells me how ugly, fat, and worthless I am. If I were to draw  what she looks like, she would be different from every angle. Each angle would reveal that she resembles some one from my past that told me I'm ugly, fat or worthless. She seems to have no soul.  She criticizes me constantly. She whispers, she laughs at me, she screams. 

And I listen to her.

It feels almost impossible to tune her out. She is unpredictable. When I get all fired up and determined to change, she is my best friend, but if I slip just a little bit, even for a second, she becomes my worst enemy. She just doesn't know how to be supportive or kind to me. This puzzles me because I work so hard to be supportive and kind to everyone around me, yet I can't seem to be kind to myself. When the voice really gets going, I feel like an unlovable loser. Recently, I've felt like that all the time. And when I feel like that, food is often my comfort. 

Two weeks ago I was riding my bike, walking, eating right, and feeling good. My weight was starting to drop, my clothes were starting to loosen, and I was four bandannas away from my first 50 bandanna goal. Somehow this taste of success must've threatened the hell out of my inner voice, because she kicked her nasty criticism into high gear and sent me sailing off track. I lost my appetite, and then when I did eat, I only ate garbage. That abusive, ever-present voice was a constant stream of "I told you so" and "I knew you couldn't do it."  I sank lower. 

You know, I have never tolerated and will never tolerate anyone abusing anyone else-physically, emotionally, or verbally.  Why do I allow my inner voice to do it to me? My illustrious, super-smart counselor and I were talking this week about this and she asked me to consider what it would be like if my inner voice actually liked me. Sadly, I couldn't even guess at what it might be like. My inner voice has been this way for as long as I can remember-brutal, unforgiving, and always demanding perfection. However, they say that the definition of crazy is doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result. Crazy is not the title I want, so it's obviously time to try something different. 

How do I do this?  How do I change how my inner voice speaks to me?  How to I rehab her from Mean Girl to Sister Supportive? I want to do this, but I have no idea how. And the idea scares me to death because sadly enough, like a long-term victim of abuse, I am comfortable with the Mean Girl. She is least a known entity. The unknown of having a supportive inner voice for the first time scares the heck out of me. What is she even going to respond to?  Do I force the change?  Does it happen over night?  Seriously, how does this work?  I guess I will figure that out as I go.

In the meantime, I am going to resume the bandanna wars. The first 46 bandannas were certainly for learning. I'm starting over with a new 50, and those will be for growing.

Stay tuned....

Dance Fever

"Dance first, think later"

When I was working out with the most fantastic trainer in the world (the one that made me puke my first time out----love you, LaGunta) I refused to jump rope in front of the other people in the gym. It flooded my system with an anxiety wave that drowned my sense of humor and exposed my flaming, red angry.  Deep in my soul I knew that all those skinny little gazelles lined up on the treadmills with a full-view of my hippo-shaped, two-bras-for-safety's-sake-wearing, jump-roping-ass, would be secretly laughing at me. And we all know that when we are on the treadmill our eyes wander to anything that is moving-anything to distract us from the torture of walking on purpose. And currently, all of my parts move when I try to go all Rocky on the jump rope.

 

But if she had just asked me to dance instead...

Calories burned in 30 minutes!!

For some incomprehensible reason, I have no problems dancing wherever I am.  I don't care who's watching. This weekend I even learned how to shake and shimmy (thank you, Belinda).  I've been known to dance in the middle of the cul de sac at midnight by the light of the moon, get my groove on in the grocery store aisle, and even bust a move while baking. Therefore, dancing my ass off-and any other body parts-just makes sense. This morning I tried out the "Rockin' Body" series with Shaun T. Much fun!!  My office/art studio is now also my dance floor!

The right brain shows concussion indicators.

Yes, dancing burns a ton of calories, but there are other added benefits as well. It is not a secret that I may have taken one too many bumps in the head throughout my sports career. 30 years of soccer, 6 years of rugby and 10 years of football can be a bit tough on the noggin. So much information has come out recently about the long-term effects of concussions that it can be rather scary to consider what symptoms I face. So far, the manifestations have surfaced in the form of a slight stutter, difficulty finding the right word I want to say, short-term memory issues, and frequent headaches. However, there is very little research concerning how a female athlete's brain is affected-or if the effect is greater. My doctor is a former football player and is fairly fascinated with my case. He and I are searching for brain studies for me to join. In the meantime, he has directed me to do puzzles, challenging thinking games, and lots of exercise-including dancing.

You see, it seems that dancing and learning new dance patterns can have a crazy-awesome positive effect on the brain. I found an article by Richard Powers-dance guru- that sites a study in the New England Journal of Medicine about the effects of recreation activities on mental acuity in aging.  

"One of the surprises of the study was that almost none of the physical activities appeared to offer any protection against dementia. There can be cardiovascular benefits of course, but the focus of this study was the mind. there was one important exception: the only physical activity to offer protection against dementia was frequent dancing." -Richard Powers

That's right. Who knew that shaking my butt might save my brain?  You can see more of the article by Richard Powers here:

http://socialdance.stanford.edu/syllabi/smarter.htm   

Check out these findings from the study:

Reading-                   35% reduced risk of dementia

Bicycling-                   0%  reduced risk

Swimming-                 0%  reduced risk

Crossword puzzles    47% reduced risk (4 x per week)

                                                                      Playing golf                  0% reduced risk

                                                                      Dancing Frequently    76% reduced risk!!

This all totally makes sense to me. Learning new dances can be difficult. Getting your body to do what your brain is telling it can be like trying to settle a herd of kindergartners down for a nap while wearing a monster mask.  One part is sure to go off screaming in the wrong direction-and maybe all the parts.  Now set that chaos to music. If you're really on your game, set that chaos to music and try to choreograph it!

Happy Hoppers Square Dance Club

 In retrospect, I should probably thank my parents for my early appreciation of dance, as well as the mental acuity and coordination that came with it. My parents were from Montana, they joined a square dance club called the "Happy Hoppers." Inevitably, I got roped into taking Square Dance lessons. I will admit here that I LIKED the square dance lessons.  It was fun, rigorous exercise, and there were always new moves to learn that got increasingly more intricate. Okay, I HATED the fluffy dress and girly shoes I had to wear, and the fact that my partner was always Jeff- the caller's son.  Jeff and I were the same age, so we had to dance together all the time. We even had to do square dance exhibitions together. Since we were little 3rd graders, everyone thought we were sooooooo cute-but that is a whole other story. (Although I do find it amusing that we both turned out to be gay. Interesting.)  My point is that dancing in all forms really can be stimulating for the brain as well as the body. 

I actually have this CD.  Love it.

This week I will be doing more dancing and less worrying about the pounds and the inches. I assume they will come off on their own as I unleash the boogie fever to my disco beats, get my rump-shakin' Zumba on, Just Dance my way across the living room, and do my best go-go dancer shimmy while I'm working in the garden. Dance like no one is watching, my friends!

"Let us read, and let us dance; those two amusements will never do any harm to the world."

-Voltaire

The Endorphinator

I apologize for the extended hiatus.  I have returned....

During my time away, I was not idle, but it was not an easy time.  My previous post was all about stress.
Well, the stress increased exponentially and was no picnic, but I weathered it with this fantastic, magical wonderment known as the mighty ENDORPHIN!! Every time I figured out I was feeling a deepest shade of blue (indicated by being wrapped in a blanket watching my 17th consecutive episode of Star Trek Voyager on Netflix) I went for a walk. My added visits to the gym produced a cleaning frenzy whirlwind that resulted in a sparkly-clean and organized office/art studio (a previously unheard of anomaly), the deletion of two giant bags of clothes that don't fit, and a 1/4 totally weeded front yard.  Unfortunately, my back gave out before my endorphin wave did.  This all felt FANTASTIC.  I could conquer the world!!  I could start a business!!  I could....totally take a nose-dive.

That white, digital slice of imbalanced hell-the bathroom scale-got to me again. I have lost...NOTHING!!!  This was highly discouraging and sent me back to the couch for a day or two. There have been no inches lost either. Unacceptable. the natural progression was to demean myself, to open up my mind to all kinds of doubt in myself. My inner voice is a nasty little item that is abusive and mean-spirited. She has serious issues. I have named her after a similar someone in my past, but for the purposes of avoiding lawsuits, we shall call her..."Jane Ho."  Jane Ho went all whippy slap-slap on my psyche after I viewed that heartbreaking lack of change on the scale. She led me over to the mirror and compared me to a hippo, then changed her mind and told me I look more like a rhino with my big shnoz and jello-jiggler midsection. Jane Ho told me I would never see a difference and that I was just going to fail.  She even came close to convincing me that my blog is a stupid waste of time-no one is listening. She went too far with that one. I got mad.  "Listen here, Jane Ho, you can fuck right off!  I've been working hard!! And it doesn't matter if anyone is listening!! This is MY change!  FOR ME!!"  Then I jumped all up on the reasonable train and left Jane Ho behind to talk to herself and the spots on the wall. (And before you voice concern about my apparent schizophrenia-it's okay, Jane Ho moved out).

I HAVE been working hard. I may not be seeing a difference on the scale, or in inches yet, but there have
been so many other positive changes. My struggles with getting my diet on track continue to be the major factor between me losing inches and pounds vs. ideal shrinkage. I will continue to improve.  I'm sure of it. I just have to stay out of the grocery store and never drive past a fast food joint.  Just kidding.  I need a huge injection of will-power.  All suggestions on how to acquire this are welcome.  In the meantime, here is a list of the positive changes that I've experiences so far:

1. Energy: My energy levels are up. I'm getting stuff done like a soccer-mom on a 15-shot espresso high.
2. Mood: Laughter and humor are my baselines, but I actually caught myself whistling at 5:30 am yesterday!
3. Air: I don't have to gasp for breath after tying my shoes anymore, or climbing stairs, or using the remote.
4. Joints:  My knees used to call me unmentionable things-especially when it rained.  Not so much now!
5. Distance: Walking 5.0 miles is no big deal. I still want to die a bit on steep inclines, but I don't have to lie down and gasp like an untanked guppie anymore.  :)
6. Social: I've been re-connecting with old friends, making new friends, and generally getting out more.
7. Strength: I can open jars again.
8. Focus: Attention span is a crap-shoot when you have unmedicated ADHD.  I sat through a 3-hour presentation on the Holocaust the other day. Only started squirming with about 20 minutes left to go.

All these things have brought me back to my positive outlook as I continue to forge on.  I'm getting closer to the end of the first 50 Bandanas, but it has become clear that this first 50 has been all about learning and habit-forming, breaking horrible cycles and installing healthy ones. I'm totally looking forward to the changes the next 50 Bandanas will bring!!

As always, thank you to everyone who keeps me motivated.  You rock!!!  Here's a healthy little list of snacks that I'll be portioning out.  You should too!

Hiatus this week

There will not be a detailed post for this week.  Sorry.

The Stress Particle

WEEK 5

"Reality is the leading cause of stress among those in touch with it.  -Lily Tomlin

There are no bandanas on this particular post. I did wear a couple, but I will save them for next week's post. This week was awash in stress.  Like many people before me, I experienced  how difficult it is to maintain a healthy path while working my way through a highly stressful week. There were walks, jogs, and workouts as planned, but the detrimental effects of stress made it difficult to sleep properly. Bedtime would come and I would toss and turn and flop around like a whale breaching. Travel also made it difficult to eat in a timely manner. By the time I was able to eat I was more ravenous than locusts in a wheat field. Thankfully, the level of stress I dealt with this week is not chronic, but all last summer I dealt with a level of chronic stress that contributed to my increasing diameter. This whole program is about solving that issue so I can make amazing changes.

I've always liked graphs to illustrate stuff.  At right, I've included a "fat graph" to help illustrate how stress totally sucks when you are trying to shrink.  According to said fat graph, when stress goes up, cortisol production goes up, and Leptin senstitivity goes down (Leptin is a hormone that acts as the energy hall monitor that keeps our energy intake-or fat consumption-under control.  If our sensitivity to Leptin is down, we eat like somebody else is going to steal the last donut.) Our body gets the message that we need more energy intake -even though we don't, and hunger goes up, with leads to increased fat storage, which leads to...weight gain.  YUCK.

So, how do we combat the effects of stress so that our little Leptins are happy?  We have to make sure we are sensitive to them. The best way to do that is to CHILL OUT and avoid stress-inducing situations. Granted, we can't always avoid stress or stressful people...there are just too many "interesting" people out there. But we can improve the ways we deal with stress. Improving coping skills and installing alternative reactions or stress relievers will help greatly to keep stress-related bulging at bay. (Nobody wants to look like a busted can of biscuits just because they've got a little stress).

"It's not stress that kills us, it is our reaction to it." -Hans Selye

This was a LONG week filled with surprises, tiring travel, difficult personalities and troubling situations. My focus on my goals faltered because I was so busy just trying to keep it together. There is good news though. Unlike in the past, instead of falling back to stuffing myself full of fast food and other garbage, I located better food choices. Instead of eating at restaurants 3 times a day, I located a Winco. In their deli area they have pre-prepared salads, sandwiches and other meals. They run about $3.50 or so per meal.  Most hotel rooms have a micro-fridge, so I stocked up on good choices. This little triumph will help me immensely on future trips. And, instead of lying in a heap on the bed and watching cable, I jumped on the stress reduction band wagon with walks, journaling, and workouts. Five weeks into this 50 Bandanas to Fit program and I've made progress.  No, the majority of my progress hasn't been physical yet, but the mental and emotional changes I have made have been phenonmenal.  Changing my thinking is going to save my life.

A Fine List o' Stress Relievers: feel free to tell me what your favorite stress-reliever might be.

take a walk, take a jog, take a hike, sing a song, tell a joke, phone a friend, meditate, write in your journal, make some art, view some art, do some yoga, try some PMR (progressive muscle relaxation), have some sex, listen to some tunes, laugh out loud, take a bath, work in the garden, pick some flowers, reduce caffeine intake, light a nice smelling candle, dance a jig, get a massage, go workout, play with the dog, take a power nap, read a good book, cut down on junk food, go for a swim, go on a long drive, live without technology for a day, learn something new, go fishing, spend time alone, allow yourself to day dream, go outside and listen to the birds-or whatever else there is to hear, watch children play (but be careful or you may be labeled as a creeper), do something nice for someone.....

Fist Pumping Triumph!!!!

I'm lighting my own blog up today by accident, but it just might be break-through time!! My stomach piped up and started whining about lunch, and as per usual, all I could think about was fast food: particularly Taco Bell. I popped up from my computer, grabbed my car keys, checked my wallet for cash, and just as I put my hand on the door knob, I started hearing this slo-mo Noooooooo!  It was in my head of course, but wonder of wonders I actually hung the keys back up and put my wallet down. Thus ensued a brief internal conversation with myself about how it's these stupid little decisions and justifications I keep making that add up to failure in my quest.  And TA-DA!  I made a good decision and made my OWN quesedilla- which was much more flavorful and healthy than the rubbish I would have purchased at Taco Bell. Triumph will be mine!!!

Now to spend the rest of the day trying not to reward myself with food for how awesome I was at lunch.  Sigh....

Morning Driving

NO MCDONALD'S.  NO.

Mornings are the hardest for me.  My car wants to drive me somewhere and my stomach wants to dictate where we go The isolation of working from home drives this need to get out of the house first thing in the morning and SEE other people. Perhaps some of my early riser friends would like to go walk first thing in the AM?  I shall investigate. Replacing the surly morning-shift fast-food workers with half-awake friends would be a lovely up-grade.  :)

The Arsenal

WEEK 4: Still Tickin'

"If you intend to go to work, there is no better place than right where you are."

-Abraham Lincoln

Week four is over already!!!  I have to admit that I have made it further than I initially thought I could. Normally, by now my ADHD has usually kicked in and...wanna ride bikes? Oh look, a butterfly! Only kidding. This time, although I have had struggles, I'm dialed in. The process has been fun, my mind is engaged, and my body is responding. Perhaps all 10 of my commandments have not been met each week.  Perhaps I have curled up and napped a time or two instead of going to the gym as scheduled or embarking on a run.  It doesn't matter, as long as I jump right back on where I left off without too long a pause in the action.

This week was actually pretty fantastic. My eating habits while on the road have been historically atrocious-to the tune of 2500-3000 calorie days. This week I was able to whittle it down to 2000 calories a day and below.  I intend to improve on that during week 5.  My culinary skills are improving-so much so that I think I used every dish in the house, and the resulting dish-washing marathon may have left permanent water wrinkles on my hands.  And here is the best part-  I ONLY ATE FAST FOOD FOUR TIMES LAST WEEK!!  That doesn't seem like such a big deal until you consider the fact that at my lowest point I was eating it three times a day every day! (Apparently watching "Supersize Me" ten times wasn't enough to make the message stick).

A dear friend volunteered to walk with me and many others have been offering encouragement and support. This is invaluable and means a ton to me. Interestingly, I have so much to gain by succeeding and so much to lose if I falter. This journey isn't just about weight loss.  People tell me that they understand where I'm at and have been inspired by my efforts to change. This is a complete surprise to me. For so long I felt like I was the only one in this predicament and hid away in silence and shame. Those of you who have reached out to me, please know you inspire me right back. You've helped to recharge my batteries in a way I never expected-thank you.

Some of you have asked me how exactly I'm doing what I'm doing-what kind of diet, excercise, program, etc...  To answer some of that, I'm going to share my arsenal.  This IS a kind of war.  It is a waging of battle against an invisible, deadly, internal enemy that will be ousted!!  I decree it!!  So, here are my weapons of "Body-Mass Destruction." (tee hee)  I've inlcuded links at the end.

CULINARY COMBAT

The Yellow Plate of Power and the Magic Placemat             
 The YPP came from the camping section at Walmart. If you tip your head to the right, you can see that it smiles at you. The Magic Placemat came from the nutritonist. My partner is addicted to laminating and therefore the placemat is neatly laminated. I suck at portion control, but kind of rock when I have the YPP to use. The big part is always filled with salad and veggies, the little parts with the healthy amount of protein and starches as outlined on the Magic Placemat.  The Yellow Plate of Power and the Magic Placemat have a sidekick: Felicia the Fabulous Food Scale. Felicia is digital and is capable of weighing in kilograms, grams, ounces and pounds. Very handy for figuring out of I'm serving myself the correct amount of food.  Not surprisingly, I am always shocked by how very little food is contained within an ounce.

The Eat Clean Diet by Tosca Reno.  For food guidance and recipes I follow the eat-clean diet as outlined by Tosca Reno. In addition, I make a lot of the recipes the good folks at Better Homes and Gardens put together in the Eat Well, Lose Weight cookbook. Why did I pick these books?  Tosca Reno is not a bullshitter. She says it's hard work, and she says it will take time, but she also says it's worth it. Her books are both inspirational and make sense to me.  Although she does seem to be extraordinarily fond of photo shoots of herself.  :) And dude, it's Better Homes and Gardens. What else is there to say?

The Traveling Answer    One of my biggest issues has always been travel and how to make healthy selections when it seems that everything is a fast food option. My gym had a special on cases of these lovely little 100 calorie Muscle Milk shakes. They are perfect and filling, and they stave off hunger just long enough for me to fight off the siren call of the drive-thru. They are not entirely horrible on the taste buds either. It says right on the side to serve cold...they are not kidding. Drinking one of these things warm is definitely a gacky mcgaggerson experience akin to drinking eggnog mixed with sidewalk chalk. Chilled, these drinks are transformed! It's like magic.

Weapons of Body Mass Construction

These are the applications I have added to my phone to help me keep track-REAL TRACK-of what I'm doing. mapmyfitness, Couch to 5K, and myfitnesspal.
mapmyfitness: This app is a GPS tracker that records a map of my running or walking route.  It tracks how far I went, how long it took me, and where I went geographically.  It is a totally 100% Big Brother-esque application that stalks me when I work out. On an up note, if I somehow get hit in the head during a collision with an albatross and suffer a bout of temporary amnesia, when I regain consciousness my mapmyfitness app will show me the way home. Cool, huh?

Couch to 5k (C25K):  This is a lovely little program is designed to take someone from couch potato-hood to 5k running capability. The plan is to start with walking/running intervals and slowly work up to all running over the course of the 8 week program. I've been on week One for four weeks now. Granted, I've been more like a full-on couch cushion instead the couch potato sitting on top, so I certainly have further to go.

myfitnesspal: This application rocks. It has both a mobile and an online interface. You record what you eat and what you do to work out. It does all the fancy math and tells you how many calories you have left in the day, how much you burned, how long it will take you to reach your goal...tons of peachy info with graphs and everything.  There is a HUGE food database for figuring out calories, an online support community-all the fun stuff. It just makes tracking everything incredibly easy.  I use it in tandem with my favorite work-out and fitness log the Bodyminder Workout and Exercise Journal (at right). I've seen a lot of different journals and this one is just easy, simple and not full of a lot of fluffy b.s.  There's room for a 13-week fitness plan and goal-setting, as well as a whole lot of useful trackers in the back. And I like to have a paper journal too so I can flip through it later, stick stuff to it/in it, and make notes and doodles in it.  Sort of a smash journal for my flubber.

My gym of choice is 24Hour Fitness. We have a love-hate relationship.  I love the gym, I hate all the skinny little troglodytes in the locker room talking about how fat they are, and then whispering behind their hands about which gender I really am. Ugh. However, I've been with 24Hour Fitness long enough that I pay an amount per month so low that the membership people gasp whenever they see it. Recently my hate has subsided and I just don't give a fig what the skinny little people are grumbling about anymore. Fuck em'. I have muscles to grow and fat to make cry.

Little Red Riding Wii:   There is a red Wii in our house. It's main job has been to provide Neflix to a chip-eating, couch-cushion-becoming, bump on a lump on a log. We only have two actual video-type games for the Wii (I don't even know what they are). What we have instead is a stack of fantastic I like to think of as my own personal sexy stack. That's right, I'm going to dance myself sexy to the sweet beats of Just Dance 2-4, Zumba Fitness and Michael Jackson-The Experience. For those days when I can't get to the gym we have WiiFit Plus and EA Sports-Active 2. The other night I worked out with the traininer on EA Sports and I almost puked.  My 24-Hour Fitness trainer would be so proud. She DID make me puke the first time we worked out together. Mortifying, but at least she knew I was giving it my all.  :)

Fitbit Ultra: This little gadget goes with me everywhere. It rides around on my bra and counts my steps, calories burned, distance traveled (on foot) and even tracks my sleeping patterns while in a band around my wrist at night. It's tiny, but it's been quite illuminating. Not only was I not moving around enough during the day, but every night around 3:30-ish I'm awake for about 1/2 hour, but never have memory of it.  Must be when I'm doing all the sleepwalking...  My favorite thing about the Fitbit is that it grows a little digital flower as I work out. If I work out enough it will grow a whole sunflower. This entertains me and somehow encourages me to work harder and more often to keep the flower at maximum growage. (I feel vaguely manipulated.)  It also has an online interface with graphs and charts and other cool, gadgety stuff.

Accessories

Bandanas: 50 of them. One for each work out. Necessary for motivation, accessorizing, flair, sweat control, snot rag, what have you...


Shoes: Went to Fit Right Northwest and got fitted for these awesome shoes.  They have a lot of miles on them and my left big toe is coming up out through the top, but I love them. Time to go get a replacement pair.


Sunglasses: to hide from the paparazzi.



Push-up gloves: Not like a push-up bra.  These are for people like me who have issues with wrist pain because we stay up all hours typing out blogs and such.  There are special pads built in to relieve stress on the wrist while doing push-ups

Water Bottle: I searched high and low for just the right water bottle. It has more to do with the lid than anything. You see, I somehow never learned how to gracefully drink from a normal water bottle.  I'm all slurp and spill and unacceptable glugging noises. And then, because 1/2 of my lower jaw has no nerves, a good portion of the water ends up all down my front without me noticing.  So, the water delivery system is key.  With this bottle I can just lean back and pour water down my gullet with minimal racket and only minor spillage.  Hydration bliss.




Inhaler: Another love-hate relationship.  I never needed one until I let myself go.  Now I need one. I love how it opens up my lungs, but I do not want to get dependent on it.  I want to eliminate it from my life by getting healthy. Damnit.

Necessities

Creative Cursing:  Because I need to branch out with my blasphemy.  And nothing makes me blaspheme quite like the mirror, the scale, and getting dressed in the morning.

Motivation and Encouragement: I keep going for me, but love and support in this endeavor is invaluable. On the hard days, I know I can reach out for help if needed.  Thank you to my inspirations!  If you'd like to send inspiration via snail mail or if you'd like to receive inspirational postcards from me via snail mail, feel free to write to:
Tracy Sand
P.O. Box 821506
Vancouver, WA 98602

I'll always reply.

That is my arsenal. It's keeping me strong.  It's keeping me going, and it's going to keep me alive and well.  Start building yours today!!

Links:

Yellow Plate of Power:  http://www.walmart.com/ip/Coleman-Melamine-Plate/16472392

Magic Placemat:  CCS Diabetic Placemat

The Eat-Clean Diet:  http://www.eatcleandiet.com/

Eat Well, Lose Weight: Better Homes and Gardens Eat Well, Lose Weight Cookbook

Muscle Milk:   http://www.musclemilk.com/

mapmyfitness:  http://www.mapmyfitness.com/

Couch 2 5K: http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml

myfitnesspal: http://www.myfitnesspal.com/

Body Minder: Body Minder journals

24-Hour Fitness: http://www.24hourfitness.com/

EA Sports Active 2: Amazon.com EA Sports Bundle

Fitbit: http://www.fitbit.com

Fit Right NW: http://www.fit-right-nw.com/

Rejuvenation Gloves: http://www.dickssportinggoods.com

Subzero Water Bottle: http://www.subzerogear.com/

Exercise-induced Asthma: http://www.webmd.com/asthma/guide/exercise-induced-asthma

How'd I get so fat?

Week 3


Leave me alone.



At the end of week 2 I felt FANTASTIC!!!  So fantastic, in fact, that I totally bombed during Week 3.  My lack of performance and motivation stank it up like Tony Romo stanks up Cowboys Stadium. Renuzit didn't develop a product that would alleviate my level of stankage.  Before this evolves into a sad list of "I stank soooo bad" jokes that rivals the "Your Mama" insults, I'll move on to why I'm struggling...



Way back in 2000, I met a mysterious stranger named DEPRESSION. Depression didn't come into my life yelling and screaming and effing up my days, like a bull in a Tracy shop, no.  Depression crept in and ate away at the edges of my everything like a caustic mist. The hellish loss of a job and total change in career direction was the door that opened up to let Depression in. An unemployed, directionless work-a-holic presents prime real estate for Depression and it's minions; Self-Hate and Self-Loathing. I had been sad before, and I had a rough go of it in school, but I'd always been able to carry on and sally forth. Depression and it's friends seeped into my mind and erased all the happiness from the world and my memory like a Dementor out of Azkaban. I couldn't remember anything good about myself. Sinking lower and lower into the vicious cycle of self-hatred, I walked right up to the edge of suicide and teetered there on the brink.  I slipped off the edge twice, but luckily, I'm still here.

145lbs to 220 lbs from first game to last.

Surprisingly, during this bout of depression, I didn't pack on any weight. I started playing soccer five nights a week to keep busy, and got a part-time job to return to a state of sane. Overall, I stayed pretty fit and slim.  Then, I was struck by a bolt of lighting...or maybe more like an earthquake. During my break at my illustrious seafood counter job at Fred Meyer, I saw the flyer. There was no way I could've known this particular flyer was going to shape my future. This ominous, fabulous flyer would ultimately lead me down a path that would result in a new career, one bad relationship, a move to Colorado (and a move back), one fantastic relationship and a marriage, a master's degree, and so far-12 years of highs, lows and sideways.  This fateful flyer invited women to come try-out for the Portland Shockwave football team. I think I gasped. It was a dream come true. I tried out, I made the team, and the rest is history...sort of.  For my position, the coach asked me to put on some weight. Apparently, I took him seriously. From my first game to my last, I gained 75lbs! 

It didn't happen overnight, and it wasn't always a steady climb to the top. By the beginning of my second season I was 180-most of it muscle.  Then I went through the kind of break-up where you can't even choke down toast because your heart hurts so bad. You lie on the couch watching stupid sappy movies over and over and just want to die.  My weight dropped down to 140.  I looked good, but I sure didn't feel good.  Not eating is NEVER the way to lose weight. Time healed my pain and eventually food was appetizing again.

At this point you may be asking yourself how I got to 220lbs if I had kicked depression and dropped to 140lbs.  Well, I didn't really kick Depression-I had just fooled it for a while. The Self-Loathing was still hanging around. In 2004 I was offered a great promotion, but I had to move to Denver. Adventure has always lured me, so I took the job. Denver and I did not grow on each other. Like so many, I was fooled into thinking Denver was all Rocky Mountain High and surrounded by lovely. In reality, Denver is flatter than a pancake, thin on oxygen, and high on jack-ass drivers.

Depression found me again and this time brought ADDICTION along with it. I was bored and lonely, so I ate food-fast food.  There was a Sonic just down the street, a local burger place, and a Schlotsky's Deli.  Near where I worked there was a McDonalds and a Taco Bell.  And then I discovered Qdoba!  Bliss. I was stowing about 1,000 calories per meal! I remember being pissed because the apartment dryer kept shrinking my clothes! Porky Pig had nothing on me. By the time I returned home at the end of a year, the addiction was fixed and  my waist, bra, and shirt size was growing. Depression ebbed and flowed like a drowning tide. I became drenched in the accompanying addiction. To save myself, I have to address the biggest enabler I have.  My job.

My career in merchandising requires a lot of travel and comes with an expense account. I justified my eating by telling myself I played football, so I couldn't get fat. And I told myself I wasn't fat. I told myself I deserved to eat that crap because I worked hard.  And I told myself that the extra padding made me a better player. And even as I was eating it every day, I told myself a little fast food couldn't hurt me. And deep down inside, I felt protected from the world with the more weight I put on.  Padding between them and me, and between me and the hurt. And the extra padding came free with the expense account.

 

(f) Expense Account + (a) Self Loathing + (t) Excuses and Delusions = Formula for Failure (fat)

I have to find a better anwer to eating on the road.  Friends have offered great suggestions, and I have a book that outlines wonderful ways to pack for time on the road. The Eat-Clean diet closely mirrors the diet my doctor laid out for me.  She travels a lot, so she has some great tips, tricks, and recipes.  If you are looking for a guide for a healthy life change, this lady rocks!  If I can stand strong and over-come the lazy and put all her advice into action, I'm going to punt this addiciton right through the uprights!!

And now for a winning equation to combat the Formula for Failure. Week 3 may have been all filled with STANK, but Week 4 is going to be all filled up with WIN!!   

The Unspoken Addiction

WEEK 2

Okay, I am going to admit it right off the bat...I cheated.  The scale was leaning innocently there against the wall, minding it's own business-gathering dust like it was supposed to. A coursing, crushing, calamitous wave of curiosity swept me right over to it.  It had only been a week, but I HAD TO KNOW if all this walking/running/lifting/agonizing was getting me anywhere. Apparently it isn't because I gained two pounds. Said scale is now in the box for the yard sale....okay, I'm kidding.  All my years in sports have prepared me for the muscle weight gain and the initial fluctuations that go with making major changes to a health routine. I'm still pissed at the scale though...

Whatever.



The good news-I MADE IT THROUGH WEEK 2! The scale attacked me on the first day of week 2, so I'm pretty proud of the fact that I didn't get all depressed and go all mega-donut-and-Dr. Pepper-binge right after that. No, I saved that for last night.  After a triumphant week of dragging my sorry butt to the gym, running fabulously around the block in my sexy bandanas and flowing tresses (okay, it makes me FEEL better to imagine it that way) and "Just Dance 4-ing" the heck out of our living room, I lost a serious confrontation in the grocery store.

You see, it was like this....  I went to the store to get apples and salad.  But the apples are suspiciously close to the bakery.  I think stores are set up that way on purpose so the donuts can whisper to you. They say they nicest things...they really are sweet.  And they are also spawns of the devil liberally sprinkled with evil, decidedly drizzled with damnation, cleverly coated in corruption, and teasingly topped with atrocity.  So I bought a dozen.  Then, since I was already marching happily down the pathway to the deepest circles of hell, I bought a Dr. Pepper too. Sigh... it was a bad day. 

McKayla Maroney

Luckily, I left my pile of bandanas out on the kitchen table.  There they were when I walked in the door, tapping their collective feet and crossing their collective arms with that disgusted look made famous by Olympian gymnast McKayla Maroney on their collective little fabric faces. (Sugar-induced hallicination?  Perhaps.) I was instantly sorry that I succumbed to the whispers of the dounuts-as well as curious as to why I was hearing food speak. It truly must be an addiction if breaking it is this freaking difficult. So, out of sheer will and a committment to make serious change, I did the previously unthinkable.  I threw the dounuts away and dumped the Dr. Pepper out (GASP). 

The Pile

Did this take super-human effort?  YES. Did I throw out all 12 donuts?  No, I ate one of the donuts and drank 1/2 the Dr. Pepper before I got home. It was crazy like an alcoholic hiding a flask in the car, or a junkie shooting up between their toes to hide the needle holes. Many would scoff that it couldn't possibly be as serious as alcoholism or drug addiction, but it is. I am facing a very poor family health history and diabetes. I'm only 40. My partner showed me an article just this weekend about how they've shown that lab rats will choose sugar over cocaine every time. Even the rats that were addicted to cocaine would choose the sugar over cocaine.  And last night I chose sugar.  Two weeks ago I performed my own intervention.  Let's just call last night a relapse. Today, I'm back with the program.  Total fall from grace averted.

Week 2 Complete.  Gym and running habit developed.  Bring on Week 3 to set the habit in stone.  I'm going to kick my own ass.  Week 3 is all about eating the right foods and making good food choices when I have to travel...but that is another story.

Note:  Thanks to all who have sent such wonderful words of encouragement.  This is a difficult journey and I appreciate your support so much.  If you think others would enjoy reading about my struggles on the path to healthy (or especially if you think it would help them) please feel free to share my blog at will.  If nothing else, maybe it will give someone a laugh for the day.  :)