The Next Hundred Pounds

AUDITION DRESS UPDATE!

For all the lovely ladies who have sympathized with my shopping plight and gave me such good suggestions, I think I may have found The Dress, or one of The Dresses, anyway. (One usually needs more than one audition dress).

The photo doesn’t really do it justice. It’s a very, very simple dress, but not plain. Calvin Klein, ponte knit with just a little stretch, scoop neck, bell sleeves.  They only had it in chocolate brown, which is not normally a color I’d choose for auditions, being more of a jewel tone girl, m’self. But when I tried it on, it’s clear that the simplicity of it, paired with the fit, makes it a great little dress. For auditions, you want your personality and voice to shine. Of course you want to look great, but it’s like having a really great makeup job. If people compliment your makeup, it’s too obvious. If they simply say you look terrific, your makeup is doing its job. Same thing for the dress.

It’s a dress that calls for very understated jewelry (those of you who know me may stop sniggering any time. Those of you who don’t, please to be understanding that I don’t really do understated jewelry. Those statement necklaces that are so popular right now? I’ve been making similar statements for years). I don’t want to look too corporate. But this dress screams for tasteful jewelry, awesome shoes, and an updo (which I also don’t usually do) . Maybe I’ll chance some of the patterned hose or tights that are in this season, with neutral shoes.  I wish I could afford these gorgeous Stuart Weitzmans:

 

Alas, they are a little rich for my blood. Champagne taste and  a beer budget, doncha know.

 
Also, I am very pleased to announce that the last of the Horrid Travel Pounds skulked off as of this morning, and a little bit extra sheepishly exited with it, so that I am at a new all-time low weight. This gives me a last few days of August to excise whatever else might go. And I’ll use the new dress for the September pic. Hips, hips, AWWWWWAAAAAY! 

WHAT THE SKINNY PEOPLE DO

While doing some reading yesterday, I was inspired to come up with a new response card. And it's this:

When I get tired of eating on program, when it seems unfair that I can't eat whatever I want and still be slim, I must remind myself that even slender people watch what they eat. I have a choice: to allow the sense of unfairness and weariness to overwhelm me, so that I eat off-program and gain weight; or to accept that I must eat carefully if I want to be slender and healthy, and enjoy all the many wonderful benefits of my new body and lifestyle.

These are powerful words and thoughts for me. I'm really glad I've been blogging through most of this process, because it gives me a written record to go back and see the challenges presented at each stage of the journey;  where I've fallen down and why; and where I've plowed on through and eventually triumphed. When I'm feeling particularly discouraged, the photo record is really helpful. Sometimes you don't see the changes much day-to-day or even month-to-month, but when I look at my photos from a year ago compared to now I see a dramatic and encouraging difference.

I encourage anyone who is reading this and trying to lose weight themselves to start taking a monthly picture, and to go back and find pics of yourself from previous months.  Make yourself a photo album that you can flip through. And be sure to wear body-skimming clothes so you can really see the changes in yourself.

I also encourage you to keep some sort of diet journal where you note challenges, pitfalls, and triumphs. Note the circumstances, how you felt and what you did. If you’re in this for the long haul, you’re going to come up against these situations again, but you may not remember. Tracking your journey is an enormously helpful tool.

Back to the thought about slender people. I have become a surreptitious food spy, watching different people, what and how they eat. It’s not to judge, you understand; I am observing for my own edification. I am, if you will, spying on the Others. The skinny people.  Stealing their techniques for my own nefarious purposes. Recently, for example, we went to dinner with some friends, and the group included friends-of-friends who we didn’t know.  Most people at the table ate a little bit of everything, but I noticed (even while I was sitting there impatiently waiting for dessert) that one of the heavier people in the group ate the dessert that came with the meal, finished someone else’s, and then had two helpings of a different dessert. A year ago, I would have been doing the same thing.  As it was, I was jealous ‘cause I would have really liked to have a large piece or three. But now I have learned to pass it up, and enjoy a small taste, because all I could think about what was the scale would say the next day, or how my pants would fit, and I did not want to see a negative change in either of those things. So, I savored what I had, and in a little while, I wasn’t thinking about dessert anymore.

This is the difference that I’ve learned from Beck. It’s not that you’re going to be free of temptation and desire, but you learn to get past it, and then it goes away, at least for the moment. It’s going to come back, and then you deal with it again. And the more frequently you say “no”, the easier it gets the next time. This is what skinny people do. They still are tempted to eat junk, or too much, but they don’t do it very often and when they do, they dislike the resulting feeling so much that it deters them from doing it again for a long time. For those of us who battle our food desires, I think we have somehow learned or are naturally inclined to a different reaction, but it can be trained out of us. It’s not easy, quick, or painless, but it can be done.

I’ve been complaining a lot lately about the yo-yoing and gaining weight while in New York and all, and while the scale may not be showing the losses I’d like it to, there are other indications that I’m doing fine.  My husband returned from two weeks in France, and he didn’t think I looked like I’d gained any. For the first time, I recently noticed that my wedding rings are very loose, to the point where it’s annoying to wear them on my fourth finger and I sometimes slip them on my middle finger or leave them off entirely.  And today, slogging away on the elliptical, I noticed that I really needed to tighten the strap on my fanny pack by several inches.

It’s important not to be a slave to the scale. There are other indications of how well you’re doing.  After you’ve been on a program like this for a while, it’s easy to let some of the skills slip. You get overconfident and think you don’t need to do them anymore. I’ve been making a conscious effort to get back to some of the basics, and it’s very helpful. In particular, my response cards. I am making an effort to read them every day and to add new ones. Also, I try to make new lists of advantages of why I should keep on losing weight. Happily, many of the original reasons to lose have been conquered; but there are always new ones! When I started on Beck, those response cards were the single most powerful tool I had. Many’s the time they stopped me from putting something in my mouth.  And you can’t argue with the results.

I think I will always feel like a fat person, no matter what the mirror and the scale say to me. That’s why it’s really important to remind myself regularly that I am thinking more and more like a slender person. The change comes from the inside out. And “fake it ‘til you make it” is more than a cute saying; it really works.

SHAKE IT UP!

So, I need to get out of this craving funk brought on by my disgust over packing the extra  butt-luggage back from New York and two months of yo-yoing. Intellectually, I realize that the cravings will go away as soon as I get busy (and they have … they just keep coming back). So, yesterday I allowed myself a little extra treat at breakfast, and then ate light the rest of the day. I love my yogurt concoction and my favorite salad (spring greens with a little goat cheese, some nuts, and a pear or apple … so yummy you don’t even need dressing!) so much that it’s not burdensome to have those for lunch and dinner after an indulgent breakfast. Also, by having your big meal at breakfast, you have the rest of the day to work it off! So, I also dragged myself to the gym.

Speaking of the gym, it’s getting old again. The elliptical is really the most efficient and least painful way for me to burn some calories, but I’m getting bored with it, and I’m still several weeks away from being able to ride my bike. I’m thinking of finding a class. I’ve never been a big fan of classes, mostly because they have never been geared towards ME, the lowest common denominator, the one who can’t keep up and feels clumsy and huge and clearly doesn’t need to be surrounded by tiny toned bodies jumping up and down in skintight spandex. But maybe, just maybe, it’d be different now. Maybe it’d shake things up a bit. Exercise routines need periodic shaking.

Also, I have a new strategy for getting past these discouraging thoughts. It’s nothing revolutionary. I went shopping.  I tried on lots of clothes that formerly I would not have allowed myself to even look at, because style and size-wise they were off-limits to big ol’ me. I tried on an itsy-bitsy tank top and a body-skimming tee, and they ended up coming to live at my house. I also played around in my closet, reminding myself of how much I’ve thrown out or given away over the past year because it doesn’t fit any more, playing with putting together new outfits I might never have dared wear before.

Obviously one can’t run out for a little retail therapy every time a food craving strikes, but the point is that just reminding yourself of how good you look now can be a great remedy. I also think that allowing myself a little treat helped, because as of today, I’m over it.

A third strategy I’m trying is trying some new recipes. My friend Kim gave us a wonderful vegetarian cookbook. I haven’t been doing much fancy cooking over the summer due mainly to my broken wrist, but now that chopping isn’t a problem, I’m ready to try a couple of new things each week. Today I made egg salad with olive paste, and that’s going to be for lunch. Shaking up the diet isn’t a bad idea either.

I still want that cheeseburger, onion rings, and chocolate shake, but I’ve decided to hold off until after I reach my next little goal, which is about six pounds away. In the meantime, I’m looking into what I can do to give the ol’ metabolism another good shake. I’m thinking maybe Pilates.

WHERE MAH SCALE CANDY?

I’m having one of those weeks when I want to eat everything in sight.

Actually, scratch that. It’s not the food that’s in sight that I want to eat. I want to eat out. I want to have a big luxurious breakfast with a cheese-stuffed omelette and pancakes and all the butter and maple syrup my little heart desires, I want a cheeseburger with onion rings and a thick chocolate shake, I want a decadent ice cream concoction for dinner. I want to bake cookies and eat the dough.

I want to eat good stuff without worrying about the scale.

The problem is, I don’t want to stop losing weight and I certainly don’t want to gain any! It was no joke, saying that this is a lifestyle change and it’s forever. I have no intention of ever going back to eating with total abandon, even for a short time. It can’t be done. The tiger’s tail is firmly in hand.

Sometimes staying on a healthy eating program weighs on you. (Pun intended). It can be, how you say … discouraging. Not discouraging as in “I’m about ready to give up, give in, and spend the morning working my way through the gelato stand in Central Market”, but discouraging as in “Where da hell mah Scale Candy? I’m wanting some Scale Candy, pronto!”

Ah. You are not familiar with the term? Not surprising; I just made it up. Scale Candy, aka Dieter’s Crack, is the pleasurable jolt of a reward you get when you see the number on that scale go down. It’s what makes the suffering and sacrifices worthwhile. And when it’s been a while since you’ve gotten sufficient Scale Candy, well … visions of sugarplums, they do dance in your head. That’s where I am right now. July and August have both been yo-yo months. Ultimately I showed a tiny loss in July and I’m duking it out for August. I had hoped, back in June, to see another significant chunk of weight off by now.

Clearly, I am suffering from sabotaging thoughts, and response cards are warranted.

Sabotaging thought: I’m tired of working so hard to stick to a healthy food plan when it’s so hard to make the weight come off right now. I’d really just like to be able to throw caution to the wind and eat whatever I want to.

Response: You’ve lost 112 pounds – that’s significant. You knew that as you got closer to goal, it was going to get harder. You’ve made a trade of eating too much unhealthy food too often, being uncomfortable in your body, and starting to have some really unpleasant health problems for eating well most of the time while still being able to enjoy some “fun” food, having a fit body that you really enjoy, and reversing those health problems. But if you go back to the old way of eating, the old problems will come back, too. You literally cannot have your cake and eat it, too. You’ve made the right choice. Stick with it.

GIGANTES (THE BEANS, AND MY BUTT)

Did you hear that loud wail this morning? The one that wrapped around the block and shattered some windows and made all the neighborhood dogs howl? Well, that was me getting on the scale back home, and realizing that in a mere four days I had managed to pack on FIVE POUNDS. FIVE POUNDS, people!

Now, travel is always hard on your body, weight-wise. There’s more sodium and hidden fat in restaurant food, you can’t always get the exercise in as vigorously as you’re used to, you retain water, blah blah blah. The fact is, that while I didn’t, as they say, screw the pooch, I was also no food angel, so I guess I am now paying the price. It’s particularly irritating because July was a yo-yo month, and now it looks like August is, too. And I don’t feel that I am anywhere near finished losing. This is just a new and wonderful hurdle I need to get over.

My first impulse was to batten down the hatches and  go back to the 21-day food plan outlined in Dr. Willet’s book. But when I began to re-read the plan, I realized that I really don’t want to. It worked just fine for me when I started this journey, but I prefer the food I’m eating now (yogurt with berries and nuts almost every day for breakfast or another meal; salads for lunch; nuts and fruit for a snack; some lean protein and veggies for dinner).  And thank goodness for my Beck support group. As one member pointed out, I would have had to eat over 15,000 extra calories to gain that much. And as good as the gianyotiko is at Niko’s, I didn’t have that much!

So, for the time being at least, I am simply going to have a light week. I’m going to try to eat at the lower end of my calorie range and keep up the exercise. Tonight I roasted asparagus in a little olive oil with garlic and walnuts, and had it with three big panfried sea scallops, with a pear and piece of Cotswald cheese for dessert. Tomorrow I’m going to try a chard “recipe” that I overheard two ladies discussing in Whole Foods, and some gigantes I’ve got soaking. The recipe I found online requires the following (read it all the way through for the punch line):

Ingredients:
1 lb of gigantes beans
1 bunch of parsley
1 can of diced tomatoes (1 lb)
3 cloves of garlic
1 large onion
1 bunch of thyme (optional)
Salt, Pepper, Olive oil

Equipment:
1 large pot or pressure cooker
1 8”x13” pyrex
Colander
Aluminum foil
One female cook

All set for Girls' Club Gigantes! And all set to get those five gigante pounds back off my butt.

CREME DE LA ... NOT

I hate to disappoint those of you who might be waiting breathlessly for pics of my haul of goodies, post-retail therapy, but Lord and Taylor’s personal shopping service was a complete waste of my time. What a disappointment.

I had emailed the service on Tuesday, requesting an appointment on Thursday or Friday, and received a prompt reply that Vicky, one of their “top personal shoppers” would be in touch with me soon to set up an appointment. In fact, she called my cell phone late Thursday afternoon. I was having some service problems (long story) and was unable to receive voice mail for a couple of hours, and she called during this time. When I got home that evening, there was an email from her saying that my phone did not accept calls and could I please call her to set up an appointment. The email was worded in such a way to seem slightly accusatory --- not “I wasn’t able to reach you by phone”, but “your phone doesn’t accept calls”.  I emailed her back, telling her the problem was resolved and I would like to set up an appointment Friday afternoon; and also phoned first thing in the morning, before 9 am. She returned my call around 12:45 and wanted to know days and times that would be good for me. I reminded her that I had requested a Friday time, but seeing as it was now afternoon I wasn’t sure she could accommodate me. She said, rather defensively, that she had tried to call me the day before. We eventually set an appointment for 4:30 p.m. 

I got to the office just a couple of minutes early, and the pleasant receptionist called Vicky to let her know I was in. She informed me that Vicky was with another client and would be with me shortly. While I waited, the receptionist was carrying on a conversation with another client (???) about what a terrific personal shopper Vicky was. A second personal shopper, who seemed to be just hanging around, chimed in, agreeing. Clearly Vicky was the crème de la crème of personal shoppers, as far as her colleagues were concerned. Good sign, right?

Fifteen minutes later, I wasn’t so sure. There was no sign of Vicky, and I was getting restless. A few minutes later she did pop her head in and advise me to keep reading my magazine; she would be right with me.

Another ten minutes went by. I started looking at my watch. I decided that 25 minutes was really quite long enough to wait, and if she didn’t appear in another five, I was going to walk out. Sure enough, she didn’t show. I stood up and said to the receptionist, in a cordial but unhappy tone, that I would come back another day when Vicky wasn’t so busy. I walked out the door.

A few minutes later, there was a frantic phone call from Vicky on my cell. She apologized and said she was coming to meet me right then. When she appeared, she apologized again and explained that she’d just had a very busy day, and in fact there was another client waiting on her right then, an OLD and LOYAL client who knew how busy she got and was always willing to wait for time with her. The remainder of the time we spent together was peppered with this sort of genteel attempt to “educate” me about her importance as a personal shopper. How in demand she was. How people who were used to using personal shoppers understood that sometimes you just had to wait. Funny how this was not mentioned when she set the appointment. Funny how she assumed I had never used a personal shopping service before (I have).

I accepted her apologies but did not back down or tell her that it was “okay”. I wasn’t hostile, but I did tell her that I have a personal rule not to wait for anyone more than 20 minutes. (I had, in fact, waited almost half an hour).  She seemed a little taken aback by that; thus the attempts to “educate” me.

I explained to her that I was looking for an audition dress, and what that entailed. I made it very clear that cocktail attire was inappropriate, as were sleeveless things. She immediately began to show me cocktail dresses, almost all of which were black. I repeatedly told her that after-5 attire was too fancy; I needed a nice day dress in a material that traveled well. She showed me a horrific Gothic number with a poofy taffeta skirt. She showed me things in satin. She pointed out numerous black cocktail dresses, and kept fingering things swathed in rhinestones. I patiently explained that I really needed a day dress.

She really seemed at a loss. I said that separates would be ok, but all she did was pull two dresses for me to try. One was the poofy Gothic horror. If she is really the ace personal shopper, I would think she would have been able to look at that dress and see that anyone with hips doesn’t need taffeta ruching on the saddlebags. The other was a perfectly serviceable, boring, overpriced black dress. It fit, but it did nothing for me. Vicky was disappointed to hear that I was unimpressed. “Couldn’t you accessorize it?” she asked plaintively.

At this point, it was time to cut my losses. Vicky and I clearly were never going to hit it off; she was clearly distracted and out of ideas; and indeed, there wasn’t much on the floor that was suitable. Most of the dresses out there were black cocktail dresses. L&T 5^th Ave. is clearly not a fan of color when it comes to women’s dresses. Or sleeves, for that matter.  We toured exactly two floors, and by the end of the second one I was thinking, “I can do better than this on my own at Steinmart or Kohl’s.”

After I rejected the second black dress, Vicky pretty much gave up, and I was fine with that. Frankly, I didn’t like her attitude and saw no flashes of her alleged brilliance in shopping. We parted ways , quite relieved to be rid of each other, and I headed off to Starbuck’s to rejuvenate myself. I’m a longtime Lord and Taylor customer, but I won’t be making any special efforts to go there in the near future. I certainly wouldn’t bother with their personal shopping service again. If Vicky represents their best efforts, all I can say is, there’s a lot to be desired.

 

REFLECTIONS

While cleaning up my desk last week, I came across a photo my mother took during my registration for grad school. My last year of undergraduate work had been spent starving myself on a 900 to 1100 calorie-a-day diet consisting largely of popcorn and frozen yogurt, fully abetted and accompanied by my roommate Kellie. We both dropped a lot of weight, going from size 22 to 14, and loved the attention.  I am convinced that my new svelte size was one of the things that helped me win a coveted position in one of the country’s most prestigious opera apprenticeship programs at Chicago Lyric Opera. But thanks to the pressures of grad school far from home, followed by the stressful fishbowl environment of a Young Artist’s Program at a major opera house, the pounds came piling back on. By the time I left the Lyric, I was back up to size 22, and climbing.

Comparing that photo with one from last week, I am surprised to see that I seem to look slimmer now than then. Could it be that I have now surpassed the lowest known weight of my adult life? If so, I am truly moving into uncharted territory, and it feels good. As I write this, I in New York for my regular voice lessons and coachings; this trip, I’ve also scheduled a meeting with a personal shopper so I can look my best for the upcoming audition season. I’ll also be stopping by to say hello to some opera company administrators who I have sung for in the past; this is what I looked like the last time they saw me (well, without the beard, most days) and I am eager to gauge their reaction to the new me. Already, though, I’m noticing some differences in the way men are treating me. There have been two unmistakable flirting incidents in the past couple of weeks (unreciprocated; I’m married to a sexy Frenchman and am therefore unmoved by normal efforts; not to mention that thanks to years of being ignored by most men it takes a great deal to get my attention. I’ll never forget my Phantom of the Opera colleague Gary, an irascible Englishman who had flown with the RAF and been in films in Britain, exclaiming in mock exasperation as we waited backstage for an entrance, “I’m sexually harassing you, darling!”. It was only then that I noticed that the friendly hand on my back had worked its way down to my backside).

  It’s been some months since I’ve been here, and I’m meeting up with some people who haven’t seen me for … oh, fifty pounds or so. The reactions are, to say the least, gratifying. And also amusing, because sometimes people aren’t quite sure how to phrase their congratulations without giving offense, or they aren’t sure comments are welcome. And I appreciate that, because weight is a sticky issue, and I’ve been on the receiving end of both lovely, well-phrased compliments, and well-meaning but awkwardly phrased ones. So, for anyone who’s found themselves in a potentially embarrassing situation, here’s a handy-dandy little guideline:

You don’t need to allude to a person’s former physique (and you especially don’t need to offer an opinion on it) or say any variation of , “Wow, you look SO MUCH BETTER”! It’s not really a compliment if you’re telling the person in the same breath that they look good now, but they used to look like crap.

Just say, “You look terrific.”

Bonus points for any compliment that begins with, “You’ve always looked great, but now …”

I’m just sayin’.

I pigged out a little already on this trip --- a visit to Niko’s, my favorite NY restaurant, is extremely hard to resist. And when I go to Niko’s, there are two constants: there must be taramosalata, and there must be gianyotiko. And there was, oh my yes, there was. There was also seafood moussaka, which came with a lot more sides than I anticipated, and made me wish I’d skipped the taramosalata. In penance today, I ate yogurt and fruit for both breakfast and lunch, and a salad for dinner (pretty yummy penance, if you must know. I did not suffer). I also walked everywhere. By the end of the day I felt back on track. Honestly, I’m gonna have to stay away from my beloved Niko’s unless there is someone there to help me eat all that food!

Tomorrow I’m going for another light eating day with as much walking as I can stuff in. I’ve been trying on clothes in every little snooty boutique I pass, just because I can.

But the best thing about my trip so far is that a very dear friend who I met for dinner tonight told me that she and her girlfriend have both started Beck, she’s dropped 15 pounds already, and she’s made her own reminder bracelets! I’m tickled for her. How cool is that?

THE NEXT BIG GOAL

So, the loose skin under my chin is really bugging me. I feel like it makes me look much older than I am. At Wednesday’s training session I hopefully asked Dee if there were still some fat there or if it was all just loose skin … ‘cause if there was fat, that means some of it would go away. Alas. It’s just skin. I confess that it pisses me off that I’ve worked so hard and finally don’t have a double chin … but it still looks like I do, thanks to the saggy baggies.

I had a coupon, so yesterday I went for a facial (Natalie at Avant Salon and Day Spa in Gateway --- she’s fabulous, y’all!) and I swear, not only does my skin feel like it got resurfaced in the most pleasant sort of way, but it does indeed look tighter. And she did some sort of magic to my eyes that took away my natural big dark raccoon circles. We’ll see how long the results last, but it sure was relaxing and at least temporarily, my skin looks amazing!

See, this is one of the things they don’t tell you about losing weight. They do tell you that you might have some saggy skin, but they don’t point out that it’s going to be on your face and it’s gonna make you look OLD. And looking old, especially for entertainers in this day and age, may be the one crime that is greater than looking FAT.

(Tongue only partially in cheek).

In less whiny news, I’ve made a decision about my next big goal. After reaching 100 pounds, and breaking my wrist just before I hit that goal, it was time to take a little respite from the big push I’d been making. Well, that respite has been had (see entire month of July) and now that I’ve been bootcamping for a week and gotten back to my last low weight, it’s time to keep the momentum going with another big push. This is inspired in part by Debbie’s kind comment that I don’t , in fact, have (as I described it) “a chunk” left to lose. Depends on what you think a chunk is, I guess.

I’ve never had a magic number in mind as my goal weight. I always figured that my body would tell me when it was time to stop and maintain. But it hit me the other night, walking the trail, that if I lose another 45 pounds, I will have lost half my original body weight.

So that’s it. I want to shoot for another 45 pounds, and see where that puts me. I’m 5’4”, so that would still put me a little above what the dreaded height-weight charts decree is proper, my BMI would still read as “overweight”, and I can’t predict what the hip-waist ratio would be. All of those standards are controversial, anyway (hip-waist ratio the least). I plan to go by whatever my body’s natural setpoint seems to be, but in the meantime, it’s worthy to have a general goal.

Finally, I’d like to announce that I’m gonna be a witch. Not for Halloween, and no, I’m not converting to Wicca. I’ve been cast as Hecate, the Big Mama Badass Witch in what we theatrical types superstitiously refer to as “the Scottish play” (because it’s bad luck to say the name of the play aloud). I’ll be appearing with the Austin Shakespeare Festival in the fabulous new Long Center, in the Rollins Studio Theatre, September 10- 21. It’s a contemporary production, and my part will actually be sung. Original music in the style of Britten is being composed for the part, specifically for my voice (just like they did in the old days --- so exciting). This will be a very unique and different experience than the process of preparing an opera, and I eagerly look forward to the challenge!

I have a number of other appearances this season, and I’ll post about them as we get closer to the dates, but it’s not too early to announce that on November 25 & 26, I will be appearing as Mamma Lucia in San Antonio Opera’s semi-staged concert version of Cavalleria Rusticana, starring Andrea Bocelli and Veronica Villareol. That’s right, I’m going to be Andrea’s mamma. Mangia le verdure, Andy!

Last note of the day: I bought myself a pair of denim capris yesterday, in a “regular” size at a “regular” store, and a t-shirt in the smallest size I’ve worn since childhood. You’ll just have to put up with announcements of this sort for a while yet, because it amazes me. When I look at these clothes off my body, I can’t believe I fit into them. It’s very motivating! And the great bonus is, when I pack for my whirlwind trips to New York, I have lots of extra room in my suitcase these days. Believe me … that’s a big deal.

August Photo ... what a difference a year makes!

The August photo is now up. Let's compare with this time last year, shall we?
      

August 2007

 

August 2008                              

I'm still a good chunk away from my goal, but looking at these pictures really helps me stay inspired. This month I am recommitting myself to my program. I'm re-reading Beck, a chapter a day, and every chapter inspires me anew. I've written a bunch of new response cards and part of my recommitment is to read them every day, something I had gotten away from. Reading them again really helps keep me on track and recognize the tiny ways I'd been slipping.

Slipping is a natural part of the process, and addressing the slippage is something I will have to do all my life. Long-term major weight loss is a lifestyle I must commit to wholeheartedly. If I want to be slender, I will never be able to eat with abandon --- nature gave me many gifts, but a body and metabolism that can eat freely are not among them. I am much happier now that I have accepted that and found a sustainable, non-painful way to deal with it. Which is to say that, as commenter Beach Bum has been wont to note, some days you choose one pain over another. It's not that this process is without painful choices at times, but overall it is manageable and do-able and sustainable, and the rewards far outweigh the sacrifices ... for me. You have to find the thing that works for you, and it won't necessarily be the same.

The response card that is really speaking to me today is a new one I wrote:

STOP AND THINK BEFORE ANY FOOD GOES IN THE MOUTH.

And this one:

I MUST BE ON GUARD AGAINST FOOLING MYSELF.
EVERY SINGLE TIME I PUT FOOD IN MY MOUTH, IT COUNTS AND IT MATTERS.

I can't wait to see what I will look like this time next year. :)

RECIPE OF THE WEEK: PEACH COBBLER

As you might imagine, it’s been a while since I’ve done any baking. Oh, I made fabulous, decadent things at Christmas and Thanksgiving, and fully intend to do so in the future; but recently the only baking I’ve done is chocolate tofu cheesecake (well, technically it’s a custard, because I don’t do the crust, and I’m not happy with it yet so I’m not ready to share the recipe). I love baking, but baking is crack. I must not do it, at least not very often.

But that was before my mom showed up with a giant box of Fredericksburg peaches.

Now, ordinarily, we have no truck with conventional produce --- i.e. that which is not organic. And peaches are among the most heavily sprayed fruit. They receive weekly doses of various pesticides and fungicides from March to harvest in July or August, including the extremely toxic pesticide endosulfan, and fresh conventional peaches are among the most likely to contain pesticide residues. You can remove some of these by peeling the peach (so conventional canned peaches are okay), and you’re also better off if the farmer last sprayed before the fruit set.*

Long story short, this week we’re having a little poison with our peaches. But they still taste good.

Because there are more of them than either of us can possibly eat, I decided to make peach cobbler, if I could modify the recipe sufficiently to get rid of some of the fat and sugar.  Dr. Weil’s cookbook has a recipe, but it’s for a biscuit-style crust, which I firmly believe are an abomination unto cobbler. It’s a streusel-y crumbly cobbler crust or nothing for me.

Ah, but do not despair! My diet coach, Kim, gave us what looks to be a marvelous new cookbook, Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. I haven’t had a chance to use it yet, but I did check out her cobbler recipe, and it is this one that I’ve modified. I wanted something lower fat, lower sugar, and using whole grains. As always in my recipes, everything I use is organic (except where noted --- in this case, those dratted peaches).

COBBLER CRUST
You could use this for any type of cobbler. It’s got a granola vibe; if you’not a fan, skip the cereal or oats and just use 1 cup of pastry flour. You might then need to add some lowfat buttermilk to get the dough to the right consistency.

½ cup whole wheat pastry flour
2 packages Kashi Go Lean hot cereal or 1 cup instant oats
1 cup pecans, finely ground
1 teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon baking soda
Pinch of salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon (or more to taste)
3 tablespoons maple syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla
6 tablespoons thick nonfat Greek yogurt*

*I use my own homemade yogurt, thoroughly drained until it’s thick enough to be formed into balls. Sticky, messy balls. You don’t want it in balls necessarily; that’s just a way to test the thickness. If you buy Greek yogurt, you can drain it yourself in a cheesecloth bag or through a coffee filter until it’s the right consistency. Draining will reduce the volume by half.

Combine the dry ingredients in a small bowl and stir well. Cut in the yogurt with your hands until the dough adheres. Stir in syrup and vanilla with a fork. Set aside.

COBBLER

6-8 cups of peaches, peeled and chopped into small chunks
¼ cup whole wheat pastry flour
2 tablespoons maple syrup
1 teaspoon cinnamon
Grated zest of 1 lemon
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon vanilla sugar (optional)

Combine ingredients in an lightly greased 8x10 baking pan. Top with the crust and, if you wish, sprinkle with vanilla sugar. Preheat the oven to 375 F. Bake for 25 minutes or until bubbly.

Let it sit for a few minutes, then serve warm with a dollop of yogurt or vanilla ice cream.

I confess --- I had it for dinner tonight, along with a veggie burger (just the patty --- didn’t need any more carbs).  I had a big salad for lunch, and my snack was carrot sticks and hummus, which gave me lots of veggies and some protein. So I feel good about having a weird, indulgent, yummy dinner! And now it’s time for our walk.

*Source: To Buy or Not to Buy Organic, by Cindy Burke.