Tag Archives: weight watchers

I found the solution

It’s April. I started dieting December of 2010. I have lost about 33 pounds. If I lose four more I will qualify for Lifetime Membership, which means I met a goal weight and don’t have to pay $40 a month anymore. I’ve talked about this before, but I have quite a new new readers, so I’ll tell it again.

At 207 pounds I thought I was probably about fifteen/twenty pounds over weight. I took funny pictures of myself looking sad eyed at the camera. I was pretty fat, but not all that fat, I thought.

I lost fifteen pounds and I was excited! That calls for New Pictures! Imagine, to my astonishment, I was not only still fat, I was still very fat. The weight began to creep off and I did (most) everything right. I tracked my meals on eTools program, exercised some, and showed up to meetings. (As of press I have missed two meetings in almost 2 1/2 years.) I got down to 173. And it stayed there. Every week I was either up a pound, stayed the same, or down .2. This has gone on for months now and I’m tired of it. I know how I lose weight: Follow the Weight Watcher’s Program. I will do that, guzzle water, counting points of everything I eat and exercise.

But wait, there is more. It’s warm out and I really wanted a cold drink, like a freddo from Pete’s. I decided to save a dollar and go to McDonalds. Shamrock Shakes are here for just a little while, and I have good memories of a friend who has fallen by the wayside, and Shamrock Shakes. While I was there, I’d get a “Mini Meal” A hamburger, french friends and Diet Coke. (For the record, Diet Coke and mood disorders usually don’t mix. I popped an Ativan just to get through it.) They did not have Shamrock Shakes.

Bait your breath no longer: I managed to find another milk shake. It was good – I sucked it down. It had 2/3 of my Weight Watcher Points Plus for that day and I am pretty sure the hamburger and french fries knocked the rest of them out of the park.

Why would I do such a thing? I am so close to my goal and, when I am asked if I’d like fries with that, my answer is, low and breathy, “yes, oh yes.”

Here some of the reasons I might do such a thing:

I prefer being fat – As T so elegantly put it I want to hide under a huge mound of fat.

I don’t want to reach my goal. I’d rather have the life of gobbling whatever it is that I want, anywhere or time than I want than that of health and wellness.

I hate myself and am going to let my body know it through a steady diet of junk.

I’m afraid of being thin or attractive.

I don’t want to succeed at this or anything else. Keep me plain, chubby, unaccomplished. It’s easier this way. Except for it’s not easier. I could have popped in to Trader Joe’s and got any of their deli lunches. It would have taken about the same time as it did for me to go through two drive-thru menus. Being destructive is a chore with physics on its side. Being constructive needs creativity and planning. I am creative. Sometimes it is difficult to put this creativity in motion. It’s like words that catch my ear and sound beautiful. It’s like a just right jar of red paint – on clearance. Maybe if I saw my body as an act of art I would take better care of it.

I want a tattoo that says, “TOSKA” except for in Cyrillic. I won’t get one. He says they are too expensive and that it would be even more expensive when I decided I didn’t want it anymore. He won’t get one either.

“Toska – noun /ˈtō-skə/ – Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness.

“No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”
― Vladimir Nabokov


Yes, thirty-four

If I didn’t have a tracking sheet, I wouldn’t believe it either, but I have lost thirty-four pounds in just over a year.  I did it slowly, ate a Cadbury egg or few and enjoyed some Five Guys fries.  All that to lose thirty-four pounds.  I have four to go before I am considered a “Life Time Member”.  That means you stay on Weight Watchers, track your food, go to meetings and read the little magazines they call, “weeklies” ever day for the rest of your life.  If you don’t do that, you will get fat again, gain all your weight back and then some and wind up back at Weight Watchers again, only you pay again.

As much as I hate to say it, I love Weight Watchers.  I like the consistency, the community and I like really, seriously losing weight.  I lost about ten pounds on South Beach and I did it quickly.  Then I forgot I was on a diet.  I was a vegetarian for ethical reasons and that didn’t change my weight at all.  I tried serious portion control, but honestly, who was I kidding?  Weight Watchers makes you track, which means you write down everything you eat and how much.  Sure, you can lie about it, but it’s like a toupee, you’re not fooling anyone but yourself.  (Suddenly reminded of seventh grade science teacher who went from salt and pepper to jet black hair.  We approached him, “Mr Carlin, something about you looks different but I can’t put a finger on it….  is that a new tie?)

So we’re tracking, and we’re eating the “Power Foods” and lots of vegetables.  That’s not enough, though, and you knew it wasn’t going to be that simple.  They want you to exercise.  Lots of things count, like house work and walking.   I don’t track house work, and you know if you should or shouldn’t.  If vacuuming makes you huffy and puffy, by all means, track it.  If you can do that with ease, be honest with yourself and don’t.  Go for a walk at the very least.

My mom only makes herself go to meetings if she gains.  I think that is one of the stupidest ideas ever.  I know a lot of people do well with Weight Watcher’s online and I think that is fantastic.  My mother couldn’t do that.  She doesn’t really track so much, although she does walk and hike.  I don’t know what the deal is but she doesn’t want to be involved.  She goes sporadically, it works sporadically.  

It helps me, shy girl that I once was, to have a friend.  T comes almost every week.  She’s lost 19 pounds and she’s done, but she still goes to the meeting and tells me that seven doughnuts at a go are not good ideas.  I have buddies at the meeting to.  We look for each other and are happy when we’re down .5 and tell each a gain of .8 is just a bottle of water.  It’s cool to see people lose and keep losing.  

I know there is nothing in the world that is for everybody.  WW can’t work for everyone, but it works for a lot of people.  They say “If you really work it, it really works, if you sort of work it, it sort of works.”  I’m had sorta works weeks and that is okay.  I want more of work it weeks.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

Oh!  If you’re in to that sort of thing, my daughter is making cards with me (or I with her?) for any occasion.  Easter is in a month, and I bet grandma would love a card!  PM me if you are interested.  


Did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world?

There are so many ways to self-sabotage. Here are ones I’ve tried today alone, regarding weight loss. I am also going to go ahead and tell my coconut cream story, too. It’s one of those stories that is only funny because you know something about Weight Watchers, so I’ll try and fill the more fortunate of you in on the game.

For breakfast, I ate an English muffin with butter and about 1/2 inch of coffee. I fixed it up with half and half and the only sugary Torani syrup we have. I was late to Weight Watchers, and that shows I lack commitment, but since I have been late exactly once since I started thirteen months ago I will give myself a break.

So I blew in, wet hair and all, and listened to excuses about why people choose not to exercise. I kept my mouth shut, but I am of the, “just don’t want to” set. I worked out twice last week and that was enough for me, although my husband does not agree.

The leader, Lottie, let me tell my funny weight loss story. First I will tell you this: Diet comes down to points. You get 27 points a day and 49 points plus a week to use as you wish. Some people have an extra serving of spaghetti or splurge on a big ol’ bowl of frozen yogurt. I use them almost every week. I either eat 31 points a day (four over) or spend a day out eating moderately at a wedding reception and having a slice of cake. (I was going to say, having a bite or two of cake, but really, who am I fooling?). My beloved father came to visit me last week and brought me this coconut cream. Two small cans. I opened one and ate the two tablespoons allotted. They were pretty good – nice and firm. Although it was room temperature the texture was like a banana. I went ahead and had another two tablespoons. Delicious. So I decided to eat the whole can. This made everyone laugh – but no, I said to my fellow fat warriors – that’s not the punch line! After polishing off the can, I went a plugged everything on the eTools Weight Watchers page. Keep in mind that 49 points are to last you a week. You get 27 a day. The calculations on the delectable can of coconut cream?

Fifty-one points.

I am not kidding. Regardless of that I lost ONE pound last week. For me, struggling with the last (now four!) pounds, that kind of loss is exceptional. I gained through out December and January. Not a ton, but enough. These last ten pounds keep teasing me and playing with me. I am not enjoying the game, but I sure enjoy having an ass that can fit down a slide and not feeling ashamed to be introduced to my husband’s personal training consorts.

One more thing you can do for yourself is buy a Cadbury egg for both your daughter and yourself. Also, buy a Cadbury Chocolate Egg and a caramel one so you can find out how they taste. I don’t even want to thing about the point’s count.

The title of this entry is dedicated my my friend – Peridot. She is tough as nails and soft as Alpaca. She is a brave mama and a smart cookie. The whole weight loss adventure has nothing to do with her journey; I just wanted to give her a shout out and maybe get some of y’all to pray for her.


As if life itself is not a series of disappointments

I want to be one of those “yes, yes” and “no, no” kind of people. Look at the Sermon on the Mount, “All you need to say is simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything beyond this comes from the evil one.” I want to say “yes” and everyone to know I mean it. I want my “no” to be of the same ilk. Yes. No. No, “I swear” not even, “I promise”. “Yes”, “No.” That’s it.

I am disagreeing with someone important here. He thinks that disappointment is part of life, and that a kiddo should get used to it. I think there is truth to that, but I also think it is a person’s responsibility to keep, not only to their promises, but their word. You don’t talk up a trip to Disney World, or a puppy or anything to a ten year old without following through. It’s wrong, it’s a lie. And it’s ugly. The kid learns disappointment, as if life itself is not a series of disappointments, and the child learns not to trust anyone. Trust is given freely by children, as babies they trust their mommies will come when they are called for. As toddlers they learn the floor doesn’t move. As they get older, they realize some people will not tell them the truth, and that, despite other’s best efforts, that plans fall through. Disappointment comes organically, why should that net be thrown by your parents?

I think that has to be all for today. I’m headed to Weight Watchers, and I have watched my weight faithfully this week. I didn’t track my food, I ate viciously (I think, like I said, I didn’t track it.) and exercised twice. I am getting tired of this whole dieting regime, even though I know it’s worth it. Did you know, after thirty two pounds I am still at size 14? I can still shop at Fat Lady stores while I am five pounds away from “goal”. I guess it doesn’t matter. I look fine in them, and I’m not wearing a sash that says, “#1 Non-Fat Woman of Lane Bryant”. My mother says that I may have worn at fourteen before, but it was way too tight. Whatever, mother.


“Overweight/Skinny”

I want to give a shout out to my new readers and followers. Please keep reading, and leaving comments. I want this to be my best. This year I’m going to be more focused on the novel I’m writing. I hope that means I will use the blog to warm up and lure you into creating a Malakoa fan club, complete with a forum for fans that passionately argue with each other about potential interpretations and gush over my transparency and honesty despite all of my sufferings. Yeah. Do that.

My sister in law in here and things are going very well, at least on my side of the room. She is very cute with her new short hair cut and was very sweet. She played with my daughter and after she and hubo went up to be, we stayed and chatted into the night. Pleasant.

So pleasant I went ahead and ate twice as much Coconut Bliss as everyone else and a Coconut Cupcake with a ton of frosting, and a ton of frosting. Buttercream with real butter and a hint of blue food coloring to differentiate between that and the Earth Balance frosting. It was like my nervous energy was suppressed until she left, then it was free to reign. I’m sure I’ve gained. My tummy feels flabby – a word I have never used to describe myself before. I feel as if it’s all back. I can’t relax in to the comfort of being overweight any more, because I find I’ve preferred being “lean”. I don’t like the words “fat” or “skinny” because they are so critical and so charged. You don’t use “skinny” to talk about a girl you find beautiful. In my experience, “fat” is not so wonderful of a descriptor either. I like lean – it reminds me of a race horse. Strong, powerful, glossy hair and well cared for nails. I would like that to describe me. Once a UC Berkeley football player told me I had legs like a race horse and I really liked that. “Overweight” hurts. The world famous psychiatrist described me as, “overweight” in his description of me and it stung. I didn’t do anything about becoming a healthy weight, but I didn’t like it. Years later, I’m no longer, in T’s words, hiding behind “a mound of fat”. I have an ordinary body now. Well, that’s not entirely true. I have an especially designed body, and I have more say over how it works and looks now than I did then. I wasn’t eating to gain weight, I was eating because I was hungry, or because Small was hungry. Or I was nervous or sad. There are always reasons to eat. I’m paring down those options, and that is why I am slim. “Slim” is not my favorite word to describe a body, either. “Slim” reminds me of a “slim volume” or “Virginia Slims”. I’m still wearing Lane Bryant Clothes. This surprises me, but my mom says that I was wearing my clothes too tight. So it’s a size 8 pair of Calvin Jeans, and a size 14/16 sweater. I have lost two cup sizes, so I’m a tad confused on how that can be so. When I lost all that weight training and completing the tri-athlon I wore an eight on the bottom and a 12 on the top. Maybe it’s my shoulders.


So how’d ya do it?

Eating hummus and vegan pita chips today. Not a whole lot going on. I lost 1.8 pounds last week, so I’m 6.2 until I’m at my official Weight Watcher’s goal. Then I get to go to meetings for free! Whoo hoo! That means I will have lost 38 pounds. My God.

Who ever knew I was so fat?

I remember one day during this journey, waking up and having a waist. A waist?!?! How long had it been. A friend pointed out that I have hips, too. I dropped two bra cup sizes. I went from 36-DD to 36-C. I really don’t care all that much, though. They fit in this new body, and belong back in the old Malakoa, she who was, “Hiding under a Mountain of Fat” that T affectionately called me once (after I no longer was).

How did I conquer the mountain? What were the toughest parts?

Briefly, because I have a house to clean, I will tell you. Number one, pay attention to what you are eating. Do this by writing it down, in Weight Watchers they call it, “tracking.” You may discover, as I did, you are eating close to 4,000 calories a day. In WW lingo is would be about 50 points. I ate a whole lot of everything, all the time. There was no stopping me. I have proof now, that there could be something stopping me, and her name is Malakoa.

Number two, go to Weight Watchers. I am serious, I didn’t want to go and fought it for a long time. Weight Watchers is good because you have to pay – invest in yourself. It’s good because you realize that you actually were a bridge troll, but those days are (mostly) numbered. You only get to weigh in once a week, so maybe you’ll tighten up the last few days before your weigh in. I think that’s okay. It’s a good plan and it helped me be not enormous. I denied myself nearly nothing. If I wanted a chocolate cake slice, you would find, at least part of one, in my belly. I ate ice cream, sometimes a lot of it. I had pizza. I could go on and on. I only lost about 1/2 pound a week, and I could have lost it faster, but I wasn’t willing to carry around measuring cups. Some people do. That works for them, and I’m sure if I did it, it would help me lose weight, too.

I need to get to it. More later.


Sabotage/Submarines/Serafina

I made a delicious, sweet, crispy bowl of popcorn today, popped in pure virgin coconut oil It was fantastic and I ate a ton of it. Weight Watchers be darned! I knew what I was doing for the first time. I was not just crunching on some of the best popcorn I ever had, I was making sure I didn’t lose any more weight.

I’m nine pounds away from my goal weight. I’m tall, so it’s 169 pounds. I now weight 178. I weighed 207 and I was, as precious T says, “Hiding under a mound of fat.” We go to Weight Watchers together and she lost four pounds last week. I lost .8, which B considerately pointed out to me, “is a glass of water.”

So, what’s the deal with this popcorn? It’s obviously self-sabotage. But why? I think this is one of the whys: What if I lose all this weight and my life doesn’t change? What if it all stays the same? I’m 35, cute enough but not as cute as the “older” girls who take gymnastics at Small’s old studio. When I’m overweight, and alone, no one opens doors for me. I don’t get at lot of smiles from strangers. I would like that back. But what if nothing changes? It’s not just the pounds on a scale that I hope to change.

B wants me to do kettlebells most everyday. According to one of his gurus, Kettlebells and push-ups or weighted squats and push-ups are the easiest way to take off fat. I could do this. It would speed things up considerably: Weights are like that. I would look sleeker, muscle burns more calories than fat. Would it solve anything? Would he and I still fight? Would he be satisfied with just that short routine? He says he wants me to do it for himself, not for me. Do I even know what that looks like? Am I brave enough to find out?

Yoga is a very good thing for me. It stretches me out, gets out the kinks in my lower back and heals my left shoulder (injury sustained by sleeping awkwardly in a van back in 2001.) when I do it consistently. Do I do it every day? No. According to something I read someone at my level should be practicing three times a week. I believe them, I’m honestly just not truly ready to commit.

It’s all like having triplets. I have three things I want to do most everyday and it feels like too much. In reality, it’s not. Weight Watchers does take about an half an hour a day. Kettlebelling? Probably twenty minutes. Yoga? Between 15-50 minutes. I have that much time. I’m a writer and I work at home. But still, I don’t really want to do it because I do not want to be strong, sleek and powerful. I want to be kinda tubby, a good-enough mama and a good-enough person. If I wanted to do more, I honestly would. The evidence says that I do not.

I am reminded of a writing contact T gave me. I could have written for her friend’s magazine. I was too shy and I didn’t do it. Or at least that was my excuse. Reflecting back, years later, I believe I just didn’t want to do so. If I did I would have pursued it and would have done a fantastic job. I thought I wanted it, but I didn’t want it badly enough. Blew it.

I used to believe that the person who is unhappy single will be an unhappy spouse. B completely changed my mind. After we got married, I was still a slave to my moods (not diagnosed with bipolar yet) but he was mostly happy and said to a friend, “it’s like all those years of loneliness have been washed away.” I can be the moody one or the thankful one as far as this great big change happens to me. I do not know which one I will be.

P.S. I get to babysit today! LS is watching Small during my parent teacher’s conference and I am watching her son during his. It’s a thrill, really, to have someone trust me enough to watch her kid. LS is an easy person to do things for, and she is generous. Can I praise God for this? I’ll even share my popcorn.

P.P.S. The title of this post doesn’t mean anything of substance. Or at all.