The Next Hundred Pounds

Ciao, belli

It's been a long time coming, but I've finally  realized something.

I'm mad.

It took someone else pointing it out for me to recognize my anger for what it is, and I've given a lot of thought about whether to even talk about it here. Mad isn't a nice emotion, and I like to stay positive. In fact, it's been so important to me to be positive that I've ignored and pushed down other, less happy emotions. Part of this personal revelation is that trying to put a good face on everything all the time is  --- well, duh --- not all that healthy.

So, it's time to acknowledge that I'm really mad that losing weight and keeping it off is so damn hard for me. I'm mad that I could work as hard as I have and still have to constantly worry. I'm mad that I did all that work and still managed to gain so much weight back. I'm mad that it makes me feel so bad, that it makes me afraid for my health, that I hate not being able to wear the clothes I like. It makes me mad that I feel like I have to defend myself to society, that I feel ugly even though I know I'm not and even if I am SO WHAT?

I'm mad at the expectation society at large has that women should be decorative at all times and if they're not up to some impossible standard, any of their other accomplishments are worthless. The biggest insult you can give a woman is that she is ugly, and the word "fat" is a synonym for ugly in most people's lexicons. It's the first thing morons say when they want to shut a woman down for any reason.I'm mad that I can't just tell those morons to go f@#$ themselves and go my merry way, being fabulous, never giving it another thought. I'm mad that every magazine and advertisement and tv show and movie you see glorifies a single, impossible standard of beauty, all in the name of getting us to buy stuff, and I'm madder that I know this and yet sometimes it still works.

I'm mad that I have this injury that is keeping me from being at 100%, that worker's comp is taking so long to kick in so I can get it treated, and that being heavier exacerbates the problem. I feel guilty and mad at myself because it's such an effort right now to work out.

I don't regret my efforts, yet I'm mad at myself for my failures, for my foibles, and for not being able to just get over it. And that brings me to the next part.

What good does it do to be so mad? None, not really. But it's good to acknowledge it, and to acknowledge that being mad and trying not to is really stressful. It's a step in releasing the anger and moving on to something --- well, you should forgive the term --- more positive, or at least more constructive.

Which brings about another acknowledgement. This blog was once a great tool for me, a source of motivation and inspiration and accountability. Lately, it's just been stressful. I haven't written much in the past several months; not only  because I really have been busy with other projects, but because it's become a struggle. I'm not doing very well in my battle for health and fitness right now, and I feel like I'm letting other people down as well as myself (while fully acknowledging that I put myself in this position)!

And I feel guilty for not keeping the blog up. More stress.

There is so much that is amazing in  my life. My husband is a wonderful guy; I have a great family and friends. My dogs are ridiculously cute. My singing career is keeping me very busy, and I have a lot of side projects like my Business of Singing workshops and consultations, Spotlight on Opera, writing for Classical Singer Magazine, and my voice studio.

While I am still very much interested in health and fitness, and in no way giving up on my pursuit of them, I am forced to acknowledge that the number one health issue in my life right now is the stress, and in order to bring everything else back into line I've got to deal with it. I need to cut some things out.

You see where this is leading.

This isn't the way I wanted to end this blog, but it's appropriate. I've always tried to be very frank and open --- haven't always succeeded --- and this is as open as it gets. It's time to move on.

This isn't the end of my blogging. Writing has always been, and always will be, a great outlet for me. My story will continue at Mezzo with Character. I've decided to shift  to a more general focus, blogging about my adventures as an opera singer, on and off the stage; and that will include my adventures in cooking (with recipes!), travel, exercise, weight, food, and all the other weird and wonderful things that life brings us. Such as day before yesterday, when one of my colleagues suddenly found a raft of text and voicemails from horny guys in Baltimore --- seems that a certain professional named "Desire" had posted an ad seeking clients and gotten her cell phone number wrong by one digit. My friend was very popular that evening, and we had a really good time replying to the would-be johns. ("Thank you for calling the Baltimore FBI Sex Offenders Register. Your call is being monitored.") You can't make this stuff up. And in recounting it, I might be tempted to share the time yours truly got mistaken for being that kind of working girl.

The Next Hundred Pounds will stay up for the time being, but I won't be monitoring it except for spam removal purposes. If you'd like to reach me, please visit Mezzo with Character and leave a comment there, or email me.

Thank you, to those who have followed my story and written to offer me advice and encouragement, or shared your own stories with me. Thank you to those who have commented, or emailed me privately. Thank you for letting me know that my writings helped you. I truly am so glad. Thank you for reading me.

See you around. :)

 

THE MAD RUSH

Well, an update is loooong overdue! I've been in one of those crunch periods and along with it, fighting what seems to be the new monster under my bed, stress. This is kind of new to me, as I've always been fairly happy-go-lucky. Maybe I've just been bottling things up for years and they're messily exploding now, or maybe it's just a rough patch. Whatevs. I'm dealing.

In my chosen field, there's a certain amount of mad rushing about, followed by periods of relative calm, and sometimes interspersed with stretches of what seems like endless dead time. I have just been through Mad Rush and am currently settling into Relative Calm.

Mad Rush started with an all-too-brief trip to Puerto Rico. In addition to singing, I give workshops and do consultations for other artists, to teach them how to get into the business or troubleshoot the careers they have. The faculty of the Conservatorio de Musica Puerto Rico invited me to come and address their students, so off I went! And it was a great experience.Puerto Rico is gorgeous and the students were delightful, charming, and extremely talented.

 

With the talented and utterly charming young singers at the Conservatorio!

 

As one of my Puerto Rican colleagues said to me, "But you see why it's impossible to diet on this island?" The food is AMAZING and very tempting. And I did enjoy myself, without overdoing it. Since I was teaching almost all the time I was there, there was not a lot of opportunity to sightsee or exercise. However, I did spend the better part of Sunday morning strolling around Old San Juan and touring the Bacardi distillery. Old San Juan is spectacular:

 

A view of the coastline from the fortress San Felipe de Morro

Love the colorful stucco buildings and the beautiful blue bricks!

 

Sunday night the real Mad Rush began. Long story short, I MISSED MY FLIGHT and had to get on another --- the very last seat on the very last flight off the island! This was especially stressful because we had plans to hit the road at 6 a.m. on Monday to get to my next gig. Somehow, on four hours of sleep (and with a van pre-packed by my darling husband), we managed to do it.

So, here I am in Tulsa, where I'm rehearsing for The Most Happy Fella with Tulsa Opera. My character is Marie, who is sort of the villain of the piece, and a real Debbie Downer. She's crucial to the plot, but the role isn't very large, so I have a lot of free time. And so far, I've been using it wisely! Since I drove, I was able to bring the bike. I'm biking to rehearsal, and I've gone on two rides along the Arkansas River.

The City of Tulsa has a beautifully developed  and well-maintained hike and bike trail along the river.  It's possible to do a big loop, or just go for miles along one side. I've done both so far. This time of year is undoubtedly not the area's prettiest. The river below the dam is reduced to a trickle, with vast stretches of sand bars and piles of boulders that look rather like an abandoned construction site.

 

The rather dreary winter river

Since one side is very industrial and the other very urban, I can't say it's the nicest trail I've ever ridden. But it certainly has its moments. Fantastically beautiful wildlife statuary is scattered up and down the trail, and there are inviting benches and even chairs and tables placed strategically around. There's also a disc golf course that extends quite a long way along the trail!

 

Otters and a turtle!

Bobcat and pheasant

 

Today I went upriver --- you can only go so far --- but it enabled me to get a shot of the old Route 66 ( a minor obsession of mine) along with this spectacular sculpture.

 

My favorite so far!

 

Then I looped around to the other side of the river, which took me past the power plant, the malodorous wastewater treatment plant, many parks, and finally into the Turkey Mountain  Urban Wilderness Area ... but not before I went up two VERY steep hills which ... shamefully ...I walked up, hoping no one would see. The knee does fine with cycling as long as I don't jerk it, and since the gears on my bike are a little temperamental, uphill requires a little more force than I am currently comfortable giving. But also, it's been a while since I exerted myself so much, and frankly, I just couldn't do it. Boo. But I did ride for about an hour and forty minutes,  without stopping any longer than it took to snap a couple of photos. I'm not sure how far it was, but I'll guess around 15 miles RT.

The apartment complex has an exercise room, which I have yet to check out. Balmy temperatures and sunny blue skies make me prefer to be outside for my workouts, and besides, I need to get out of the apartment lest I turn into a hermit, or eat everything in sight which is always a temptation when I'm holing up somewhere.

Tulsa is a great town, and I look forward to doing some urban cycling and taking lots of photos of the incredible architecture around here. So stay tuned!

 

 

 

SPRING CLEANING

Depending on who you talk to, cleanses are either a cure-all that make you feel all svelte and alive and spiritual,  or a ridiculous waste of time and money. People who do them regularly rave about how energetic and radiant they feel (well, after getting through the second-day grumps). And it's quite a fad in places like New York City, where an array of companies are lined up to offer you very expensive juices and supplements designed to cleanse you of unspecificed toxins, give your gut a rest from digesting solids, and other "benefits" which many nutritionists and doctors dismiss as bogus. The main benefit to be derived from detox cleanses or fasts is quick weight loss, and if you use it correctly, it can be a sort of jump start to healthier eating. Or you might just yo-yo, if you're not careful.

I did a sort of cleanse --- though it wasn't called that --- before starting Tony Horton's 10 Minute Trainer. It's a part of the nutrition program that comes with the workouts, and it's called the  Two-Day Jumpstart. It's basically a semi-fast; the hardest part is giving up coffee for a couple of days. You have smoothies, green tea, low GI veggie and fruit snacks, and one solid meal a day (a salad with some lean protein, basically).  It's super lowcal and you know, for two days, it's completely doable. I did feel better after having done it, but I also think the effects were mainly psychological. Sure, you're going to lose weight doing it because it's so low-cal, and what you're losing is mainly water weight. But it helps you transition.

I'm thinking about doing one again, before I set off for my next big trip. It'd be nice to feel just a little lighter, a litte more "on my way", so to speak. The inspiration this time is Groupon. An offer came for a juice cleanse, and out of curiosity I checked it out. A three-day supply of fresh juices (six 16 ounce bottles a day) costs $140 normally and was on sale for $69.

Hmm. Well, I have a Vitamix, and I know how to use it. I'm willing to bet that I could stock up on two or three days' worth of cucumbers, celery, parsley, spinach, beets, carrots, lemons, ginger, pears, apples, and cashews for a lot less than $140; and since the Vitamix emulsifies, you don't lose the fiber content and other goodies that you do with juicing.  I'll probably throw in some protein powder, too; and have at least one salad-and-lean protein meal a day. I'll let you know how it goes.

In other news, it looks like Tulsa (my next long-term stop, to sing Marie in The Most Happy Fella) has great cycling trails and is, in general a bike-friendly city; so since I'm driving, I can take the bike! I don't yet know where I'm staying in relationship to where our rehearsals and performances will be , but hopefully I'll be able to get some good rides in. As much as I hate the stationary bike, I do love to ride when I'm actually going somewhere and seeing things.  My goal will be to have lost enough weight that, when I get back in March, I'm in no danger of being over the BMI limit and can have my knee surgery at the surgery center, before my next gig starts in April. With any luck, by then the worker's comp stuff will be ironed out as well; at least, that's what I'm crossing my fingers for.  While my knee is finally doing better (after about two and a half months staying off it, plus a painful cortisone shot), I can really tell that it's not right when I (carefully) work out, stand or walk too much, or go up or down stairs. I have plans to continue being active up until the day I die, so this will not do. Especially with hiking in Montana to look forward to.

Related articles

The Benefits of Juice Cleansing: 4 Myths Debunked

Detoxing? A Guide to Popular Juice Cleanses

Juice Cleanses Don't Work

Juice Cleanses: Healthy or Just Hype?

LET ME ROCK YOUR WORLD (some other time)

It'd be completely rockin'  if, after the last couple of rather dramatic posts, today's offering would shatter your world with awesomeness. Alas, this is not to be (unless your world is easily rocked, and if so, good for you! That must be fun). I did not lose ten pounds since this time last week (but I did lose six!) and my surgery has not magically been rescheduled and at this moment in time, there is no Hollywood ending. I wouldn't say no to one, mind you, especially if I get a Hollywood wardrobe to go with it. One that I could fit into. (Now we KNOW this is a fantasy)!

What there has been is  a few days of a sort of hyper-energy, a wave of resolution and new determination which proved to be enough to get me over the initial hump of getting back to it after about two months off. Last Sunday, I went down and rejoined the little, local, no-frills community gym where I started out. It's been at least two years since I was there, and people still remember me, which is really nice. I've been hitting my old friend, the elliptical; my frenemy, the stationary bike; and my lovehate relationship, Pilates class. Haven't made it to yoga yet but it's on my list.

I've been listening to my body, especially my knee, which says 45 minutes on the elliptical is plenty (some days, 30). I've been trying not to listen to the negative voices in my head that want to make fun of me for having lost some stamina and feeling so much like I'm back at the starting line --- because it's not true. Well, I have lost some stamina and fitness, but not so very much. I am still SO much stronger and fitter than I was four years ago, and in some ways, I have more physical challenges now. Besides, I know from my experience as a professional singer --- which, believe it or not, is extremely athletic, especially if you sing something like opera --- that if you take even a couple of weeks off, it takes a while to get your breath back underneath you and your stamina up to par. Why would it be any different for working out?

I'm not sleeping so well at night but I am sleeping later in the mornings. I have a lot of weird dreams. Things working themselves out. And the question that keeps popping up, over and over again, is what do I do this time, to make it different?

See, part of the painfulness of having to start over is that, although I never believed that longterm major weight loss would be anything but a lifelong struggle, it never occurred to me that I could backslide SO much. I always thought I'd catch myself long before it became a significant problem.  And to some degree, I did catch myself, in that I knew I was sliding (what? can't you see the claw marks on the side of the mountain?) and tried a lot of different things to stop and regain control.

Ultimately, none of them worked. So what is going to make this time any different?

Well, one of the things I learned when I started my most successful weight loss attempt ever, back in 2008, was that most people who managed longterm major weight loss (this is gonna get clunky; let's call it LTMW for short) had MANY false starts before they finally hooked in to whatever it took to help them keep on track for however long it took them to lose their weight. Most people find it very discouraging, but think about it --- all you have to do is start over, however many times it takes. You can ALWAYS start over. It's not like the  bar exam. You get as many do-overs as you want.

Another thing is that I can sort of trace back to the moment, about two years ago, when the real slip-sliding started, and I know exactly the mindset that got me into trouble. For the first time in my adult life, I didn't think of myself as fat, and was slowly starting to believe other people when they insisted that I wasn't. It was a very weird feeling. I was away from home, on a longterm gig, and frankly ... my colleagues and I were partying a lot. There was a lot of socializing, and for some reason, I looked around at all these fit people and thought, Hey, I'm finally in the club! And if THEY can do this, why can't I?And over time, that translated into a lot of bad habits.  If you're wired to overeat, and if you're wired to be overweight, you can't really relax. Sorry, but it's true. You can and should enjoy yourself, but never for more than one meal  or one treat at a time, and only a couple of times a week. You have to stay on top of it.

I also now realize that, in 2008 when I started out, I had more free time and more energy than I do now. I could dedicate myself to two or more hours a day of working out. And I did. It took an enormous amount of physical and mental energy, and while I don't regret it for one second and would totally do it again if I could, I've also come to realize that I put an enormous amount of stress of myself that I am no longer equipped to deal with, not in the way I did before.  Life has changed somewhat (you know, the way it tends to do) and I have to approach things differently.

Finally, I realize that with that all the time and energy I poured into figuring out how to really lose weight and stick with it and get fit, I never gave much energy or time into figuring out how to maintain it. That's the biggest missing link, and that's what I have to figure out this time.

So. Nothing very profound yet, but I have accepted the ass-kicking life has given me and thus far, used it to good effect, and have every intention of continuing to do so. Meanwhile, I ponder.  There's a little further to go on this road, that's all.

THE KINDNESS OF FRIENDS (AND STRANGERS)

After the publication of yesterday's post, many friends have written, both publicly and privately, and some of you have posted here as well, in a loving outpouring of sympathy, empathy, and support. There has been much friendly encouragement and advice. Many people are expressing anger and frustration with the wretched state of our healthcare and insurance systems, and many have expressed disdain for the use of BMI to determine whether someone is healthy enough for surgery under a certain set of circumstances.

( I confess I find the latter puzzling as well, and perhaps one of my readers who is better educated medically than I can explain it. I understand the concern about respiratory issues, especially sleep apnea, while under anesthesia, although I do not now nor have I ever suffered from it; but I don't quite get the concern about the health and safety of the medical personnel who would be working on me. There are certainly people who weigh the same as I do, who due to their height fall within the allowable BMI range. How is it easier or safer to lift or roll one of them than it is me? I also want to make it clear that I was treated with professional courtesy, real compassion and caring by the lovely people at Texas Orthopedics. They went out of their way to help me --- one even checked with the hospital's own surgery center to see whether they might have a higher BMI limit, and whether my doctor was or could be credentialed there. )

Many people wrote to say they are undergoing the same battle --- most of them people I personally never think of as being in any way overweight, and so a humbling reminder that challenges with food and fitness are not restricted to those of us with unsuitable BMIs (yeah, I'm going to keep ragging on that for a while, bear with me). Many of those folks, like me, have fought it all their lives. We are not alone.

The healing and inspiration to be found in these sharings is tremendous, and each and every one is tremendously appreciated. But one, from a colleague who I had the privilege of working with not too long ago, made me cry. This colleague wrote:

"Anybody that knows you also knows that you will accomplish anything you put your mind to. But if I can just say, you ran your ass off during our show just as hard as everyone else in the cast, and you weren't any more winded or any weaker or any more anything than anyone else in the cast... and that kind of activity is not possible for someone who is too fat to have a knee surgery. You are a healthy person, regardless of how much weight you feel you need to lose. We have seen those people who are too fat for a surgery, and you are not one of them. Anybody who went through two rounds of P90X is not one of those people."

OK, I'm going to cry again just re-reading it.

I am a healthy person, still.

I didn't realize, until I read that, that part of what is making this so hard is that deep down, I felt I might have ruined what I worked so hard to gain, which was better fitness and health. It's embarrassing enough to have regained so much weight, but I've also deeply feared that my diabetes might come back. Most of all, I've felt like the Wizard of Oz, a big humbug. Here I am with this weight loss blog I've had for four years now, writing fairly openly about my experiences (except for the last few months, and yes, I've been feeling really guilty about that and trying to put a good face on it), and so determined to keep going, to get a grip, not to slide all the way into the abyss. And to be fair, I haven't ... but it's very scary.

Several people have pointed out that weight loss programs have a dismal success rate. It's true; I actually knew that from the outset and tried to factor it in; but I did hope to find a way to get around it. I really wanted to be one of the minority who manage NOT to gain it all back and thought I stood a pretty good chance of doing so. The deck is really stacked against us there, my friends; research bears it out. But this is in no way a reason not to try. Yo-yoing isn't good for you, but neither is the extra burden, and the bottom line is that everyone has to figure out what is best for them. You'll forgive the pun, but weight loss/management is not a one-size-fits-all proposition.

But nevertheless ... I am a healthy person, still. Up until my injury, which happened on opening night of Falstaff, October 27, I was running, walking, or stepping on the elliptical machine for hours almost every day, with a few P90X sessions thrown in for good measure. Before that, I completed a four-week round of 10 Minute Trainer, a Tony Horton (aka P90X guy) workout --- I did three sessions back to back every day. I spent June cycling all over Princeton, including to and from rehearsals; in April and May I did Zumba, kickboxing, barre toning classes, and TRX suspension band resistance training every day at  Ironflower Fitness (usually two classes a day); and February and March I was biking all over Sarasota and doing Power 90 (a P90X precursor) daily in my living room. It's not like I've been sitting on my ass eating bon-bons. And yet the whole time --- the whole, entire time --- I have battled an underlying guilt and shame that somehow I was not doing enough.

So maybe that's the real problem. I mean, I've tried to go the "focus on the fitness" route, tried not to worry about my weight, but it doesn't really work for me because no matter how much I'd like it to be otherwise, I don't like being fat. And when I was at my lowest weight, I STILL had an unsuitable BMI and lots of jiggly parts, and frankly, at my age, that's never going to change without a whole lot of plastic surgery. (The jigglies, that is). But I felt better then, I liked my clothes, I felt younger, and yes, strangers treated me differently. I want to get back there, and to do that, I have to figure out how to let go of the guilt and shame.

My mom said to me, earlier today, "I was really worried about how upset you were about the surgery, but I knew you'd figure something out. You always do."

Well, I have figured out the immediate plan; having rejoined my basic community gym today, I am going to get myself up there every day between now and January 24, when I head out on my next trip, and do Pilates, yoga, or the elliptical. I'm not doing anything fancy with food, just yet, other than doing actual meal planning and trying to make good choices. This morning at the farmer's market, I picked up fresh grouper and scallops, so this week's menu includes garam masala scallops with shredded brussels sprouts and lemon dill grouper with herbed zucchini. French onion soup, too, and leftover vegetarian noodle-less lasagna which I made so nobody would have to cook during my non-existent recovery.

Today, I feel better armed to face the challenge, especially with the healing truths that so many friends have taken the time to remind me of: that being fat does not necessarily negate being healthy. (There's proof that active fat people are actually healthier than skinny couch potatoes). That what so many of us are trying to do is really, really hard, and society as a whole does not support it in a meaningful or useful way. That weight regain happens. That the struggle to stay fit and manage food and weight is not limited to fat people. That those who struggle need to hear about the setbacks as well as the successes.

And I do feel better, thanks to the many people like my friend quoted above, who wrote words of support and told me I inspired them, who shared my frustration and anger at the healthcare system and at the stupidity of using BMI as a measure of health, who simply wished me well. Thank you. It may be a cliche, but it really does mean a lot to me. I also feel better for having some sort of plan --- not all-inclusive, but enough to get started, and getting started is the most important part, because it's usually the hardest. Keeping going is the second most important. And giving yourself permission to start over, as many times as it takes?

Well. As they say, priceless.

NEW BEGINNINGS

I am living with pain, both physical and psychological. If that sounds dramatic, you'll have to forgive me --- I am a bona fide diva, you know, even if under normal circumstances a rather low key one (or so I flatter myself). It's a torn meniscus, and plenty of people just live with such an injury, never bothering to have it fixed. It's not cancer, it's not neuralgia, it's not even rhumatoid arthritis. It's not any one of a million horrific injuries, diseases, or painful conditions that millions of people have to endure every day. But the knee hurts. Not so much that I can't do my job. Not so much that I need to regularly take medication for it, but daily and enough. It's weak enough to concern me that I could reinjure it if I'm not careful. Weak enough that, as a precaution, I've gone nearly two months without doing any significant exercise, the longest period of inertia since 2008, and the most costly.

The psychological pain is, as you might imagine, harder to deal with.

Here's the gist: my knee surgery did not happen as scheduled on Friday, and it's unlikely to be scheduled for some time.  To say that it is disappointing is an understatement, but there's more to it than that.

It's humiliating.

This is a hard post to write. Parts of it have been thoroughly mulled over for  months, as I struggled with how much to say and how and what and when. Things came to a head a few days ago when a mystery call came from the hospital. It was a mystery because my surgery was scheduled for the surgery center at my orthopedist's office --- the same place I had wrist surgery after breaking it in 2008. Suddenly, it was moved to the hospital, and after a chain of phone calls, I finally found out why. That was the first hit. The second came on Thursday morning, hours before my pre-op meeting was scheduled. The hospital called again, with an estimate this time.

They wanted $23,000 for a 15-minute, minimally invasive outpatient procedure, and that price tag does not include the cost of the surgeon or anethesiologist. That price, my dears, is well over six times what it would have cost me were it to happen in the surgery center.

I did some very quick, dirty research and figured out that I could actually fly to New Delhi, stay for two weeks in a moderately priced hotel, and have the surgery for a little over a quarter of what it would cost me to have it at the hospital ten miles from my house.

Now, I am insured, but my insurance would have covered less than half of those costs. I have also applied for worker's comp, since this injury happened on stage during the opening night of a performance. But that claim is still being processed, andI have no idea how much of this will be covered or when, and I was really, really hoping to get this matter taken care of before my next gig. It is terribly upsetting to have to wait, especially since I have to wait for a stupid reason.

You see, I could have had my surgery on Friday as scheduled in the surgery center, and paid less than one sixth of what the hospital would like to charge, and even if I'd had to pay for every cent of it out of my own pocket I could have managed that. But I am not eligible for surgery at the surgery center, as I was in 2008, because my BMI is now too damned high.  They have a limit, and I am over it.

There it is. After all my struggles, my work, my research and education, my hours of sweat, and yes, my pontificating, I have gained back enough weight that I am too fat to have surgery at the surgery center. And that, my friends, is humiliating beyond words.

I realize that it probably does not come as a surprise to anyone who's been following this blog, either; but I've been reluctant to come right out and say it in plain terms, for reasons you can certainly imagine and some you probably can't. But I've always tried to be open here. So it's time to come clean.

I do not, by the way, regret having made the big effort to lose weight and to become healthier. I don't regret a single minute of exercise or a single cookie skipped. I would do it all again and in fact, I plan to. (The" how" part of the plan still needs work; after all, I've been fighting this for some time now without the amount of success I want).

I do not count my past accomplishments as now somehow being invalidated, either. I did what I did, and I'm proud of it. I hope I can do it again.

I don't believe my methods were flawed. They worked. I lost 130 pounds, reversed my Type II diabetes, got off all meds, and got into the best shape of my life. I started running. I did two rounds of P90X. And I'm still at a lower weight than when I started.

So why have I, despite fighting hard, despite being well-educated about nutrition and weight management and general fitness, regained so much weight? There isn't a pat, easy answer. Some people are going to raise the usual refrain, "You have no willpower! No discipline!" and I shall pre-emptively call bullshit on that. I have plenty of both, and I've proved it. Weight loss and weight management and food relationships are complicated.

I thought, at one time, I had mine under control. Maybe I did, at one time. I know that I got so far off base a little, tiny, bit at a time and I think I can trace the start of it back to a specific time, place, and set of behaviors. That's a start.

What happens next? Well, now that I've got this off my chest, the plan is to go back to where I started. Tomorrow I'm rejoining the little neighborhood gym where I spent an hour a day on the elliptical, for about two years straight. They have a great Pilates class, and they have yoga, both of which will help a lot with strength and flexibility and will be good for my knee. They have my elliptical machine and they have stationary bikes, which I dislike intensely but are probably better for my knee than the elliptical.

Two days ago, when I still thought I'd be recovering over the weekend, I planned healthy meals. I made split pea soup and vegetarian noodle-less lasagna so nobody would have to cook and we wouldn't be tempted to go out or order in. I made sure we had plenty of salad fixins' in the house. I'll be planning ahead more, something I'd let slide in recent months.

While I wait for my claim to be processed, I plan on losing some weight. While I was writing this, I popped over to a BMI calculator and checked to see how much I'd have to lose to qualify for surgery at the center.

Ten pounds. Ten lousy pounds. When you're as heavy as I am, that's nothing.I'm not sure whether to be more embarrassed by that, or pissed off that the nurse didn't tell me that's all I'd have to lose. It would have saved me a lot of grief. Hell, armed with this information, I may just go on a smoothie and salad "fast" for a week and then try again. Crash dieting is not, of course, a solution to longterm weight loss, but in this one case, it just might be worthwhile.

But slow and steady is, of course, best, and ultimately that is what I'll return to. I'll give all my old tools another try, a really good try. And I'll look for new solutions, too.

It's a journey, not a destination, and as with all journeys, sometimes you get off track. Sometimes way off track. Sometimes you have to make a U-turn.

Consider this my turn signal.

SO, THIS IS CHRISTMAS

Diagnosis: torn miniscus. Solution: arthoscopic surgery. I could have done it on New Year's Eve --- Dr. Hurt, bless his heart, is operating that day --- but since my hubby gets home only a few days after that, and it would kind of suck to start 2013 hopped up on pain meds and limping around.

The surgery doesn't upset me. The upsetting thing is that I am not supposed to run any more. Long walks and hiking aren't supposed to be on the agenda, either. I'm guessing plyo is out, though it wasn't specifically mentioned.

Swimming is just not my thing, so that leaves the bike. And I do love cycling (real cycling, not the stationary bike, which I cannot stand). But what I love about walking and running is that you can do it anywhere, with no fancy equipment whatsoever. It's a great way to really get to know a town or an area. It's not like I was ever a great runner, but  I do like it, and it does make me sad to have to give it up.

Walking and hiking, I just can't give up. I know I'll pay a price for it but I can't see not trekking through Central Park or along a trail in whatever city I find myself in. In April, I'm going to sing in Bozeman, MT, a beautiful part of the country I've never visited. Are you kidding? All I want to do is hike!

And meanwhile, I guess I'll have to save my pennies for a lightweight, good quality folding bike that I can take with me on my travels.

So, yeah.  A little bummed this holiday season. Hubby's in France, I'm so tired from my travels that I'm almost sick, the extended family with all the kids isn't visiting this year and I don't feel like cooking anything special, although maybe that will change. I'm actually really happy to be home and not to have to go anywhere, but I am not feeling the Christmas spirit. In addition to all of the above, I can't stop thinking about the Newtown families. How Christmas will never be the same for them, let alone the rest of their lives.

To counter the seasonal blues, I'm singing at a friend's church on Christmas Eve, and thinking about doing something like make a bunch of Christmas cookies and drive around handing them out to everybody I see. And enjoying my silly puppies.

Mommy, it's COLD!

 

 

 

KNEED TO KNOW

I can't believe it's been nearly a month since I posted --- this has got to be the longest "time off" I've ever taken for this blog. However, things have been INSANE. A quick catch-up:

Immediately after Thanksgiving, I traveled the short distance to San Antonio to rehearse and give three performances of Messiah with the San Antonio Symphony --- such fun! We stayed in the gorgeous and historic Gunter Hotel, and performed in three different churches around the city.

 

With the cast outside Augie's Smokehouse. R-L: Baritone John Buffet, Soprano Kathryn Mueller, Maestro Patrick Dupre Quigley, and me!

 

The day after I got home, I flew to New York for several auditions. I got home around midnight on December 7 and on December 9, made a quickie trip to Madison, Wisconsin for another audition. I was barely there, but the little bit I saw was beautiful. It snowed just enough to be pretty, and I was staying on the square, right across from the lovely Capital Building.

 

Wisconsin State Capital in the snow.

 

This was a very brief trip --- I wasn't even there 24 hours! And I barely had time to kiss my husband and cuddle my puppies before I was on the way back to New York for more auditions.  At least I got to hang out with some friends and enjoy cooking fabulous (though not really healthy ... umm, not healthy AT ALL) dinners. And of course, New York is beautiful at Christmas.

 

Love the changing lights at Columbus Circle!

I got home on Saturday afternoon, and that evening my Spotlight on Opera troupe had their Christmas performance, A Rose in Winter. I was exhausted, but there wasn't that much setup, and I thought I could relax and enjoy the show. NOT. A lady in the audience, who turned out to be the mother of one of my singers, had a medical emergency. She's fine, thank goodness, but I spent the entire second half  helping her and the paramedics. I needed my own blood pressure checked after that episode! We had another show the next day, which fortunately went off with no greater hitch than a traffic accident that made half the cast a little late.

And this morning, Monday, I had an MRI.

In my previous post, I discussed the rather painful cortisone shot I had for my knee. Long story short, it didn't help that much, so an MRI was the next step, and I'll get results on Thursday. I may need surgery, but the good news is it will most likely be arthoscopic, with relatively little pain and a short recovery. In the meantime, to make things even happier, I suspect I broke my left little toe whilst running around New York.  Having broken the right one a couple of years ago, I now have a matched pair. Hurrah.

What all this means in terms of health and fitness is that November and the better part of December have been DISMAL. I have been so busy, exhausted, and frankly not feeling all that well that any attempts at working out have been minimal and quite honestly, I haven't done all that well with eating, either. I feel fat, sluggish, and unhappy about all of that. But I also feel overwhelmed. So, one day at a time. I need to resolve this knee issue and get some rest, so I can marshal my forces and get back to the work of getting and staying fit.

The coming year is a good one, gig-wise. Currently, my engagements will keep me busy from the end of January through May, and there are some very exciting things on for the summer that I can't talk about yet. (Keep your fingers crossed). But all of this means I need to work out, watch what I eat, and get as healthy and fit as I can. And I will.  :)

A (PRE-T-DAY) TURKEY

So, this is not how I planned to be spending the week of Thanksgiving, especially today. I have a long list of things to cook! But yesterday, I went to the doctor to see about my knee. Long story short, I got a cortisone shot, and am enjoying the backlash. ((That's the turkey referenced in the title).

My sprain happened four weeks ago, and I've never stopped limping or fearing re-injury; haven't been able to do much in the way of working out. So, I made an appointment to see cute Dr.  Hurt, the same doctor who operated on my wrist back in 2008. Diagnosis: arthritis in both knees, but not necessarily what caused my sprain; something may be torn but we won't know without an MRI. Given several options, I opted for a cortisone shot for the present; after about a week we'll see if that's helped significantly and if it hasn't, well, MRI.

A couple of years ago, when I dislocated my seisamoid bones, I got a cortisone shot for them and it really helped. It hurt more than anything that's ever happened to me except breaking my wrist, but when it was over, it was over, and I felt better almost immediately. There was some swelling, but it was over pretty quickly and I enjoyed a normal-feeling foot for many months after that.

Well. THIS has been a different experience. The shot in the knee didn't hurt nearly as much as the one in my foot, but when that needle goes through the capsule, IT HURTS. My head came off the table and I did make some sound, fortunately none of it cursing directed at the adorable Dr. Hurt (who is, by the way, like twelve. And brilliant). It was a shorter ordeal, and when the shot was over it was over and the pain didn't continue.

But about an hour and a half later, it was a different story. My knee swelled up, I couldn't get comfortable no matter how I lay or sat, and that sucker just HURT.  We had to get out my great aunt's old walker that for some reason I kept (SEE, WE NEEDED THAT!) and one of my grandpa's old canes I use as a prop for Spotlight on Opera, just for me to hobble into the house and get from the bed to the ... well, the necessary places.  It took me a long time to get to sleep.

Today it's still somewhat swollen and very stiff, though thankfully I no longer need a cane to get around. But it's going to make doing all the cooking hard. I'm just taking it easy, doing a little bit at a time, and letting my poor sweet husband play fetch and carry. A friend is coming over later this afternoon to help cook, so it'll all get done. I just hate being incapacitated! However, the whole point of having a cortisone shot is that it's supposed to make things radically better, so here's hoping that by tomorrow my knee will feel like a normal knee again.

I still have to wait awhile before doing any kind of impact exercise, and I may not be able to run anymore. That's the worst part. But we'll just see what happens. Hey, yesterday a friend of mine,  who is still recovering from a near-fatal car accident, had a biopsy and is spending HER Thanksgiving hoping the tumor is benign. I really have nothing to complain about.

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.

 

NO TEARS FOR TWINKIES

You may have no choice but to put down the Twinkie.

The whole world probably knows by now that Hostess Cupcakes,makers of snacks such as Twinkies, Ding-Dongs, Ho-Hos, and Wonder Bread, is going out of business. The 82-year-old company is based in Irving, TX (not too far from Dallas), and has 33 plants, all of which have been closed. 18,500 employees are losing their jobs (why do these things always seem to happen right before the holidays)?

One of the reasons the company is closing is because, according to Reuters,  striking bakery workers refused to agree to an 8% paycut, a 20% increase in healthcare costs, closure of a number of plants, and other changes to benefits. For those 18,500 employees, I feel bad. I hope they find new, better-paying work soon.

But for the death of the Twinkie and the other nutritionally disasatrous junk food Hostess sells, I can't be sorry. Sure, a lot of people have nostalgia associated with the brand name junk that brightened up their school lunch boxes. I certainly ate my share of Twinkies, Ding-Dongs, and Little Debbie snack cakes (which were cheaper than Hostess, as I recall) as a kid. But now, more educated about nutrition, I'm happy to see a junk food brand bite the dust.

Amid all the political arguments about health care, insurance, the economy, and America going to hell in a handbasket, we should rejoice to see the end of sugar and chemical laden crap food. We should continue to press for more education about nutrition, and better availability of real food, especially in schools.

As I sit here and plan my decadent Thanksgiving menu, I think back to the holidays of my childhood, when quite a lot of our food came out of cans and packages. No wonder I didn't like veggies much. They were nasty. Gray, limp asparagus and peas boiled to mush and poured out of a watery can bear no resemblance to their crisp, green, flavorful origins. Sure, I liked green beans, as long as they were drenched in Cream of Mushroom soup topped with a breaded, fried onion concoction or thousands of calories' worth of crumbled up Ritz crackers. Naturally sweet yams, soaked in syrup in their can and topped with more sugar in the form of marshmallows. Nobody really liked the jellied cranberry sauce, squeezed from its can and still bearing the ridges of its container, but we had it anyway, because it was traditional. I never liked mincemeat pie, either, until I made it from scratch and realized that, far from a black cube of unrecognizable stuff which might or might not have contained actual meat, REAL mincemeat is a delicious combination of fruit and spices, and reasonably healthy, too, especially if you cut all but a tiny bit of the sugar the recipes call for.

If I --- a child who grew up on the SAD diet, eating grilled sandwiches made of the cheapest white bread and hunks of Velveeta cheese, who thought Spam was a treat, with a Maryland Club coffee can full of bacon grease on the stove which was used to cook whenever we didn't use Crisco --- if I can re-educate my palate to despise the taste of artificial ingredients and find food that is as close to the way Mother Nature made it the most delicious, anybody can, really. And the more I learn, the more I believe it's not only the healthiest thing, but also the most economically sound and best for the environment and our country sort of thing to do.

So as I plan that decadent Thanksgiving menu, except for a few choice items, I'm taking out extra sugar and substituting lower or no fat products (like yogurt or almond milk for dairy, and apples or bananas for fat in baked goods). I'm experimenting with gluten-free alternatives, since my mom has recently decided to try gluten-free eating and gluten is the latest, greatest nutritional demon. All my decadences will be made from scratch, using high quality ingredients -- no preservatives, artificial colors, or things I can't pronounce. And even if I didn't enjoy cooking gourmet meals from scratch, even if I wanted a much quicker, easier, less messy celebration, it could be easily done without involving chemical shortcuts. Roasting veggies and a turkey, throwing together a great fall salad, whipping up some biscuits ... easy peasy. Even a simple pumpkin pie is actually a pretty healthy and extremely easy dessert!

No plant-manufactured assembly-line snack cakes have passed my threshold or my lips for more years than I can remember, nor shall they. But  if you're a diehard Twinkie fan, don't despair. Someone is sure to buy up the best-selling brands and continue making them. And even if the brand does become extinct, what with all the chemicals and preservatives in Twinkies, you can hoard whatever you can find on the shelves now --- they'll last you the rest of your life, easy. Heck, if you buy enough, your grandkids will be able to eat them.

Of course, I'm hoping your grandkids will have better taste. ;)