V-Day indulgence while staying on track

Originally published Feb. 11, 2006, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and I’m very excited. Before having gastric-bypass surgery, V-Day excited me because it meant a gold box of See’s Candies truffles, a dozen red roses and dinner at Fabio’s, with the restaurant’s famed chocolate mousse cake for dessert. Cliché, yes, but I loved every bite of it. Roses are still a favorite, but See’s Candies is no longer in the game plan. I’ve become vigilant about avoiding sugar and staying on the straight and narrow path when it comes to eating.

Since moving into a condo a month ago, I’ve also become more domestic. I spend a lot more time in the kitchen, at least. All this time in the kitchen has been good: I eat better, and I’ve had lots of fun experimenting with bariatric-friendly recipes. So it’s no surprise that, when planning a romantic Valentine’s dinner for my husband, I would dig out my dog-eared copy of “Before and After: Living & Eating Well After Weight Loss Surgery” by Susan Maria Leach for inspiration.
I settled on Shrimp Creole, which I’ll serve over rice for my husband and over steamed zucchini for me. Dessert will be chocolate genoise — a very moist cake made with little flour.

The further out I get from surgery, the more I realize that my day-to-day battle with food doesn’t differ much from anyone else’s. I can eat more now than I could six months ago, and that means I now have to carefully watch my portions to avoid overeating. I also have to watch the amount of fat I eat and limit snacking so I don’t go overboard on calorie consumption.

I think a lot of New Year’s resolutions go out the window around Valentine’s Day because people decide to give themselves a free day of eating and never get back on track. Soon, they stop going to the gym, stop caring about what they eat and end up exactly where they were the previous year.

That’s why a recent e-mail from a Weight Watchers representative caught my eye. Instead of admonishing people to steer clear of holiday decadence, WW spokeswoman Wendy Yellin offered tips for building planned indulgence into a weight-loss plan.

“If you avoid things that you love (like chocolate), you set yourself up for failure and bingeing,” Yellin wrote. “We want to teach folks about portion control and how to enjoy life while they are losing weight.”

Yellin has two different ideas of what people could do to prevent Valentine’s Day from getting them off track.The first is about common sense: Exercising a little extra each day for a week can help negate the effects of one day’s indulgence, as can scaling back the calories. If you typically enjoy a 16-ounce Starbucks Coffee mocha, you can save between 300 and 400 calories for each day you abstain. If you skipped Starbucks all next week, you could build up a bank of almost 2,000 calories to allow for any Valentine’s indiscretions.

Yellin’s other idea is to make lower-calorie versions of decadent desserts so you can indulge without shame.The recipes she shares — all available at www.weightwatchers.com — are not bariatric-friendly, but they do look yummy, and I’d love to hear from any readers who test them.

Shrimp Creole
Serves four

Bariatric ½ portion: 117 calories, 3g fat, 7g carbs, 15g protein

1 tablespoon olive oil
½ cup chopped onions
½ cup chopped celery
½ cup diced green bell peppers
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 16-ounce can diced tomatoes with juice
1 8-ounce can tomato sauce
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon Creole seasoning blend, such as Tony Chachere’s
2 teaspoons Tabasco sauce, plus extra to taste
1 teaspoon cornstarch
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
1½ lbs. large shrimp, peeled and deveined

Saute the onions, celery, peppers and garlic in the olive oil in a covered nonstick skillet over medium heat until the vegetables are softened. Add the tomatoes, tomato sauce, Worcestershire, Creole seasoning and Tabasco. Cover the pan, reduce the heat and simmer for 45 minutes, or until the vegetables are tender. Blend the cornstarch with 1 tablespoon water, stir into the sauce and cook until the mixture thickens. Season with salt, pepper and extra Tabasco to taste. Add the shrimp, cover and simmer four to five minutes, until the shrimp is pink and just cooked through.
Copyright: “Before and After: Living & Eating Well After Weight Loss Surgery” by Susan Maria Leach

Chocolate Genoise
Serves 10

Full portion: 107 calories, 7g fat, 7.5g carbs, 5.2g protein

Take this basic chocolate layer cake over the top by making it into a sugar-free black forest torte. Spoon a little sugar-free pie filling over a wedge of chocolate genoise, dust the edge with confectioners’ sugar and top it with Splenda-sweetened whipped cream. This cake must be refrigerated after the first 24 hours because Splenda is not a preservative.

Vegetable oil cooking spray
½ cup all-purpose flour
½ cup Dutch-processed cocoa (Droste is an excellent brand)
6 large eggs, at room temperature
1 cup Splenda Granular
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons salted butter, melted

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Spray the bottom and sides of a 9-inch round cake pan with cooking spray, line the bottom with a round of wax paper and spray again.Sift the flour and cocoa together into a large bowl using a fine mesh strainer and set aside.
Combine the eggs and Splenda in a glass bowl, beating with an electric mixer on high until double in volume, about five minutes. Set the bowl over a pan of simmering water to slightly warm the egg mixture and continue beating for another five to seven minutes, until the mixture is the consistency of softly whipped cream. Beat in the vanilla.
Lightly fold the flour and cocoa into the eggs, about one-third at a time, using a large rubber scraper and cutting through the batter, being careful not to deflate the mixture too much. Fold in the butter until just incorporated and pour into the prepared pan.
Bake for 15 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool for 10 minutes, turn out onto a cake rack and carefully peel off the paper.
Copyright: “Before and After: Living & Eating Well After Weight Loss Surgery” by Susan Maria Leach

Chocolate Chip Peanut Butter Pie
Serves 10

7 POINTS* per slice

½ cup reduced-fat peanut butter
4 ounces light cream cheese
4 ounces fat-free cream cheese
12 ounces fat-free sweetened condensed milk
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 cup light whipped topping, thawed
5 tablespoons mini chocolate chips, divided
6 ounce pie crust

In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat together peanut butter and both types of cream cheese until smooth. Gradually beat in milk and lemon juice; fold in whipped topping and 4 tablespoons of mini chocolate chips. Spoon peanut butter mixture into prepared pie crust; sprinkle remaining 1 tablespoon of chocolate chips over top. Cover with plastic wrap and chill in refrigerator at least 4 hours. Chill overnight if you prefer a firmer pie texture.
Copyright: Weightwatchers.com

Chocolate Turtle Cookies
Serves 24

2 POINTS* per cookie

1 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa
2/3 cup sugar
¼ cup reduced-calorie margarine
¼ cup fat-free cream cheese
1 large egg white(s)
2 tablespoons fat-free skim milk
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 spray cooking spray
24 pieces caramel candies
24 pieces pecan halves

Combine flour and cocoa in a small bowl; set aside. Beat together sugar, margarine, cream cheese, egg whites, milk and vanilla extract in a large bowl; add flour mixture and blend well. Chill dough at least 30 minutes, or until firm. Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Lightly coat two baking sheets with cooking spray.Shape dough into 1-inch balls; place on baking sheets about 1 to 2 inches apart. Press a caramel into each cookie and flatten; top each caramel with a pecan half. Bake for 10 minutes. Allow cookies to cool on baking sheets and then remove to a wire rack to cool completely.
Copyright: Weightwatchers.com

Breaking through a plateau

Originally published Jan. 28, 2006, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

After three long months of hovering around 180, I’ve finally overcome my first plateau since having gastric-bypass surgery. Though I expected my weight loss to stall and knew it was normal, that didn’t make it any easier to deal with.The first month, I was OK with the slowdown. I knew my body needed to catch up and figure out how it wanted to distribute my weight. I welcomed the occasion as a milestone. After the second month of no movement on the scale, I got nervous. Now, I knew I was at a plateau for sure. I started to wonder whether I would lose any more weight at all and how I felt about that. Though I felt great at 180, I decided that I deserved to find out whether losing another 20 or 30 pounds would make me feel even better.

Once I decided I wasn’t ready to stop losing weight, I read up on weight-loss plateaus and how to go about breaking through them. My friends in the surgical weight-loss community suggested logging my food intake and weighing my portions to make sure I wasn’t getting lax on my eating program. They also suggested I go back to eating on a schedule to prevent snacking. I hadn’t been that cautious about my fat intake throughout this process, figuring that I wasn’t eating large enough portions to matter. But I started paying close attention and logging my meals on fitday.com to see my daily nutrient totals. Still, the scale didn’t budge.

I reread all my fitness magazines that had articles on the subject. Most of them had tips similar to my friends’ suggestions. A few suggested changing up my workout routine, saying a plateau is often a sign that the body has gotten used to its fitness demands. I was nonplussed; I had already tried that. But one of the articles had an interesting tip tacked on at the end. It suggested that if all else failed, taking a two-week break from exercise might do the trick. Sometimes, the body just needs a break, it concluded.

That seemed a little too out there for me, but I inadvertently put the tip to the test when I took two weeks off from working out. One week, I was overwhelmed with juggling work and personal commitments and decided to take the gym out of the equation. I had to take the second week off after I pulled a muscle in my back. I hadn’t weighed myself since Dec. 24, because I was too frustrated with the standstill. But I pulled it out last weekend after deciding that I was finally ready to face it. That, and my jeans were starting to get baggy, which made me think there was a good chance the scale would show movement.

Imagine my delight when I stepped on the scale and it registered 171 pounds. Progress, at last. It’ll be interesting to see what happens next. Some bypass patients don’t lose much weight after their first anniversary. Others drop another 40 to 60 pounds. I don’t want to lose 60 pounds; I know that for sure. But I wouldn’t mind seeing another 30 or 35 go bye-bye. Time will tell, that I know. For now, I’ll enjoy going to clothing stores in search of size 12 pants that I can zip up.

There has to be at least one pair out there.

Manufacturers catch up to their supersized consumers

Originally published Jan. 14, 2006, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

Ever since I can remember, there has been a quiet denial in our society of those who don’t fit within acceptable size standards.I remember desperately wanting a Jockey bra-and-panty set when I was in the fifth grade. All of my friends had them, and they were enviably cute. Not only did the cotton set match, they had the coolest elastic bands that went around the rib cage on the bra and the waist on the panties in contrasting colors. Sadly, Jockey did not make these sets for an almost-200-pound girl. These lingerie sets were more about style than function.

Looking back, I imagine they were created for pre-pubescent girls to emulate their older sisters and moms. But when I was 10, I needed support, and that didn’t come in a stylish manner. I remember begrudgingly nodding when my mom would point out various styles of Playtex’s 18-Hour bras. As if the lace was supposed to make me feel as cool as the other girls at school. I didn’t throw a temper tantrum about not getting what I wanted. I wasn’t a naïve kid. I knew my size limited my choices and that I needed to be happy with what I got.

As I grew up, I became bitter at the industries that seemed to ignore consumers of my size. By the time I was in college, I realized that I had a choice. As a consumer, I could use the power of my dollar to make a statement by supporting size-friendly businesses. An added bonus was that it was less embarrassing to tell my friends I only bought clothes at Lane Bryant because I liked how the store empowered plus-size women to be fashionable instead of admitting that I couldn’t find clothes in regular stores that fit me.

After working in the casual-dining industry, I discovered that most restaurants kept armless chairs handy for larger customers. Before being seated, I would often ask for a table with those chairs. Occasionally, I’d get a blank look from a hostess, but I would stand my ground to prevent the embarrassment of a companion not being able to fit in a booth or wedge herself into a standard-size chair.

Little did I know that manufacturers were starting to take notice of the expanding girth of their consumers.

I bought a brand-new Mitsubishi in 2003. To be honest, I didn’t want another Mitsubishi. I had just totaled a Mirage. It seemed to be a courtship with disaster to replace it with similar car. But when I researched cars, I came upon a startling fact: The 2003 Mitsubishi Lancer had seats a few inches wider than any other car in its class. Not only that, but the seat belts were six inches longer, and there was an extra inch or two of head and leg room. The Lancer became a desired car because it would comfortably accommodate both me and my tall, skinny husband.

Two weeks ago, USA Today reported that other automakers have followed suit. Honda’s 2006 Civic offers front seats almost an inch wider than its 2005 model, according to an article published Jan. 3. Mercedes-Benz and Subaru have done the same in some of their models marketed to U.S. customers.

And it’s not just automakers who’ve noticed their consumer base growing in width. Scripps Howard News Service reports that coffin-makers are increasing the size of their caskets to meet the needs of larger people. It’s a lucrative move, if you believe the Trust for America’s Health study that blames obesity for 400,000 American deaths each year.

Caskets used to be built with a standard interior width of 22 to 24 inches, according to the article published last April. Southern Heritage Casket Co., in Oxford, Ala., offers a line of oversize caskets up to 44 inches wide. Batesville Casket Co. of Indiana offers 13 oversize models under its Dimensions brand.Indiana’s Goliath Casket Co. gives new meaning to the term “supersize.”

The company now offers a 52-inch casket — which is a little bit wider than a standard pickup, according to the company’s owner.

“The 44-inch, 48-inch, 52-inch are for body weights between 650 and 1,200 pounds,” owner Keith Davis said in the SHNS article. “There are extra supports to make sure the weight doesn’t cause the casket to break.”

On one hand, I’m happy to see manufacturers finally realize that our society is not the same size as the celebrities it covets. On the other, I find this trend depressing.I think we should all be accepted for whatever size we are, but the fact that there is a market out there for coffins that support corpses between 650 and 1,200 pounds proves that obesity is truly epidemic — and we pay for it with our lives.

Nothing tastes as good as being healthy feels

Originally published Dec. 31, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

As the year comes to a close, it’s a good time to reflect on the past while looking forward to the future. For me, that means it’s also a good time to clean up the office and go through the notebooks collecting dust on my desk.This week’s column will be devoted to the questions I’m most commonly asked that I never find the space to address here. I’ll skip the champagne this year, and instead toast the new year with the following odds and ends:

How do you feel?
The short answer is: GREAT. But I find that’s usually not enough for most people. The long answer is that before I had gastric-bypass surgery, I had no clue how unhealthy I was. I know that sounds odd, because I had the surgery to improve my health. But the truth is that when you’ve been obese all of your life, you don’t understand the definition of healthy and can’t imagine what it feels like. My world was so small before that I didn’t realize what I was missing.I take pleasure in the little things that most people take for granted: having a seat belt fasten easily around me, rolling around on the floor with my niece and nephew, stooping to pick something up that’s fallen on the ground. These are simple tasks, but they are ones I spent a long time avoiding.

What do you miss?
Nothing. There was nothing so remarkable about my former life that’s worth missing. I’ve have talked to other post-ops who miss the ability to gorge on food or to eat whatever they want on a whim. I went through that stage briefly the first three months after surgery. But I barely remember what I thought I missed back then. I know I don’t miss the things I thought I would, such as ice cream and fast food. I don’t crave Jack in the Box anymore, and I’m not tempted by the smell of the Golden Arches.

Do you have extra skin?
I’ve avoided this issue in my column because I think it’s become cliché. It seems that every news story or talk show that discusses surgical weight loss brings up issues and concerns with excess skin and the cosmetic surgery that’s often needed to eliminate it. Personally, it’s not much of a concern for me at the moment. Sure, there are parts of me that aren’t that pretty uncovered, but that was true before I lost 155 pounds. I look better now in clothing than I ever have before, and that’s good enough for me.I might feel differently 20 or 40 pounds from now, but for now, I can accept the results of my weight loss.

Would you do it again?
In a heartbeat. Nothing has ever tasted as good as how I feel right now. Even when I’m in the throes of a dumping episode, I don’t regret my decision to have gastric bypass. This is the best decision I’ve ever made. As I’ve gotten healthier, I’ve become a better worker, a better wife and a better person. I’m more productive at my job because I don’t get sick as often. I’m more available to my husband because I’m not tired all the time. And I’m easier to be around because I’m in a better mood and have a more positive outlook on life.

Nursing a war wound

Originally published Dec. 24, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

Life has certainly changed for me in the last 10 months. Before having gastric-bypass surgery, I was more likely to pull a hamstring from jumping to conclusions than from actually moving. When I started writing this column a year ago, I took the elevator every day to my second-story office. I was 27 years old, but I felt like I was 70. In fact, a 75-year-old woman in the office often ran circles around me.

Fast forward to now: I’m nursing a still-tender nose from a workout accident that occurred earlier in the week. My workouts are far from dangerous. I haven’t yet realized my dream of rock climbing. My exercise partner isn’t even sure my hand-eye coordination is advanced enough to attempt racquetball. But I am more adventurous than ever.

As my weight loss has slowed over the past couple of months, my motivation has moved from the numbers on the scale to what I accomplish at the gym each morning. I’ve stepped up my cardio workout by using the Cybex Arc crosstrainer. At first, the Arc felt a little awkward to me, because I was accustomed to the elliptical trainer.The Arc is more of a glider and feels deceptively easy because there is little strain felt in the knees and hips. Yet a 20-minute mile on it leaves me dripping with sweat. Going the same distance in the same time on the treadmill or elliptical trainer would have me barely glistening.

My strength-training program is still focused on using free weights, but my ab workout has gotten more interesting. My abs have never been strong, nor have I concentrated on them much in the past. It’s hard to get motivated about exercising muscles hidden under layers of flab.I started focusing on my abs before surgery, because I had heard that strong abs would lead to an easier recovery from the incisions. I adjusted my workout a few months ago to include exercises beyond the standard crunch, which gets boring day in and day out.

At first, I incorporated a big balance ball. I would do crunches from atop the ball to increase my range of motion, making the exercises more effective. Then I went to doing stabilizing exercises while balancing on it to help firm up my whole core.

Lately, my ab workouts have incorporated a Bosu balance trainer and medicine balls. A Bosu looks like someone hacked off the upper quarter of a balance ball and attached it to a platform — the end product being an inflated mound that can be used to activate the core muscles during all sorts of exercises.

One that my partner and I enjoy is playing catch with a 6-pound medicine ball while each of us stands on a Bosu. It looks likes we’re just playing a schoolyard game, but our abs, obliques and back muscles are working overtime to keep us from falling off the Bosu while we catch and throw the weighted ball.

Medicine balls also come in handy to intensify the standard crunch. But be forewarned — using medicine balls also requires paying more attention while exercising, as I learned this week.My partner and I favor a particular exercise where I lie on the ground while she stands across from me. I try to keep my shoulders raised as she throws a medicine ball at my face. The goal is for me to catch the ball and crunch upward while throwing it back at her. The hope is that my shoulders never touch the ground. The body’s instinctive tensing as the ball rushes toward my face keeps my muscles engaged the whole time. I was feeling so good at my ability to complete this exercise that I suggested we go from using a 4-pound ball to using an 8-pound ball.
However, I misjudged the amount of effort it would take to actually catch an 8-pound ball flying at me. On the first try, the ball went through my hands and crashed into my nose, leaving me to see nothing but stars for a solid minute.

My partner and I were reduced to hysterical laughing once I realized there was no blood and my nose was still as unbroken and adorable as always. I did have to explain the mysterious red line across my nose to numerous people throughout the day, but it was a great workout and one I can’t wait to do again.

I wouldn’t have laughed off such an incident before. A handful of people saw my display of klutziness and ribbed my partner for abusing me. It was all in good humor, and I consider the fact that so many of us got a good laugh out of the incident to make it worthwhile. It’s a fun story to tell.

The old Tonya would have had trouble seeing the humor in the situation. I would have been too embarrassed to think it was funny, and I might have not returned to the gym because of it.I’m glad I’m a different person now. I enjoy life more — both the good and the bad — than ever before, and I think I’m a better person because of it.

The honeymoon is over

Originally published Dec. 10, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

Nobody ever said this trip was going to be easy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t whine about it.

Complications? Nope, not a one. Regrets? Not at all.

So what is my problem? In a nutshell, it’s that I’ve started to face the same challenges I’ve had every time I’ve tried to lose weight. The issues I’ve had with dieting before have reared their ugly heads, and I’m not happy about it.

I’ve mentioned in recent columns the phenomenon of old habits creeping up. I am as honest in this column as I can be in a family newspaper. I stay honest because I want people to understand that losing weight isn’t easy regardless of the method used. I never thought this would be a quick fix, and I want to make sure readers understand that.I

compare what I’m going through to running into an old flame. You know where the person lives and where the person works and have done a decent job of avoiding him. But one day, you’re strolling down the produce aisle, and your carts collide. Face-to-face, the past hits you like a ton of bricks.The meeting is awkward, and later at home, you find yourself analyzing the relationship all over again. What went wrong? Are you really over him? The questions grow more frustrating, the answers more confusing.

Realizing food issues have re-emerged is no different. Over the last few weeks, I’ve done a variety of things. I’ve had nightmares about gaining all my weight back overnight. I’ve berated myself for dropping my guard. I’ve tallied up every “bad” choice I’ve made. And last but not least, I’ve hit the gym with a vengeance to counteract the effects of those choices.

I’ve haven’t fallen as far off the wagon as it may sound. It’s not like you’ll find me at Cold Stone Creamery ordering a large-size Creation. I haven’t had ice cream since I dumped on sugar-free Breyers three weeks after surgery. I’m not frequenting fast-food chains. In fact, I passed up the chance for Jack in the Box while writing this column (though the deep-fried tacos did sound good). My slip-ups are subtle. I might absentmindedly grab a caramel-filled Hershey’s Kiss from the candy dish on my way to the women’s restroom at work. While baking up a small batch of cookies for my husband, I’ll toss one into my mouth without thinking. Once I’ve swallowed, I’ll realize what I’ve done, but it’s too late.

I’m not an idiot. I see the trend in my behavior. I’ve been on autopilot for the last few weeks, and that’s always been my weakness. Sure, my eating isn’t anywhere close to what it was before surgery. It’s not like I’m eating half a pizza without realizing it. But even if I eat only a slice now, isn’t that just as bad? I’m still sabotaging myself.

Before I had surgery, I told my doctor I often overate on autopilot. She explained to me that it was a survival mechanism. At the time, she told me not to worry about what I ate or why I ate but to focus on how I felt when I caught myself zoning out. She said figuring out what prompted my survival instinct to kick in was the key to snapping myself out of it. She also said that it was something I would struggle with for the rest of my life because my brain was hardwired to react that way.

I hate that she was right.The honeymoon is over. I have lost 150 pounds, and I feel great but life is not perfect. I never thought it would be. But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t enjoyed the half a year I spent not battling compulsive eating. I

t took me almost four months to experience hunger pangs and four more to even consider eating between meals. But I knew that was all temporary. Every class I’ve sat in and every post-op I’ve talked to has warned me about that.I credit that education and knowledge for arming me with the self-awareness that I share now. That information has also given me the keys to getting myself back in check. I need to take advantage of the awesome support system that surrounds me. I need to start eating on a schedule again, writing down everything that I put in my mouth and cleaning out all the junk food in the house that I thought I could avoid.In a sense, I’m lucky. For the first time ever, I’ve recognized my self-sabotaging instincts before regaining mass amounts of weight. I see what I’m doing while I still have the power to stop it. I chose this surgery because I knew it was the only way I could force myself to confront my eating demons. Now that it’s time to do that, I’m going to make good on my promise to myself.

Ready for a marathon — in stages

Originally published Dec. 3, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

I’ve never been much of a runner. In fact, when somebody talks to me about jogging, my stock answer is always that I only run when being chased — and even then, I’d rather find a hiding place.But my aversion to running doesn’t stop me from feeling inspired when I read stories of marathon runners. I dream of having the level of commitment necessary to train for such a long-distance endeavor. Sometimes I even research races to enter. Eventually, reality sets in, and I remind myself of my running policy. But the idea is always in the back of my mind.

I never would have guessed that I would find the answer to my conundrum in my own backyard. But the city of Tracy has come up with an activity that will help me fulfill my interest in marathons without having to undergo intensive training or even actually run. The city’s Winter Activity Guide, which was mailed to local homes over the weekend, advertises the first-ever communitywide progressive marathon. Billing it as the answer for those who would love to participate in marathons but don’t have the time — or energy — to run the race all at once, My Own Marathon allows participants to cover the distance gradually.

How it works is that participants have from Jan. 1 to April 28 to log 26.2 miles of walking, running or a combination of the two. Participants are encouraged to attend the city’s annual Summer Activity Showcase on April 29, when everyone will gather to complete the last quarter-mile to mile of the marathon together.

The marathon fits right in with the city’s new Healthy Habits campaign, and recreation coordinator Laura Johnston said locals can expect to see more programs and classes that fit the theme.To make logging the required miles even easier, the Winter Activity Guide offers marathon mileage breakdowns for many of the classes offered. Tennis lessons and tap and ballet classes are all good for one mile each, while children who participate in the 8-week soccer program will log six miles.

“We hope that this progressive marathon can motivate Tracy residents to instill their own healthy habits,” Johnston said.

Johnston added that city staffers plan to promote My Own Marathon at the local hospital and schools as a great way for families to become active together. The marathon’s timeline of almost four months ensures that even the busiest family will be able to make time to participate.

My husband and I are looking forward to signing up Dec. 7, the first day the city accepts registration for winter programs. Entry fee is $5 per person or $10 for groups of two or more. That’s cheap, considering entrants receive a goody bag filled with a water bottle, T-shirt, sunscreen, pedometer, mileage log book and tip sheets.Besides signing up for a fun way to be active together, my husband said the pedometer is what sold him. He’s interested to find out how many miles he logs in at his construction job each day. I’m pretty excited about the pedometer myself, if only to use it as further confirmation of my newly active lifestyle.

Settling into maintenance mode

Originally published Nov. 26, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

It’s been nine months since I had gastric-bypass surgery, and this is the first month I’ve logged less than a 10-pound loss. Though it was a jarring realization when I first stepped on the scale, I’ve been expecting this.

The rate of loss typically begins to slow sometime between six and 12 months post-op. The slowdown occurs for a couple of reasons. One is that, as a person gets closer to his or her goal, the body naturally slows down in preparation for maintenance. The other is that, after six months, a surgical weight-loss patient’s dietary restrictions are reduced and “normal” eating resumes.

“Normal” does not mean “same as pre-op.” Resuming the bad habits that led to obesity is a bad choice at best. Normal is merely a label describing how the patient should eat for the rest of his or her life. And as somebody who is going through the process, I can tell you that normal is scary.

Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve made some discoveries that disturb me. Not only can I eat more in a single sitting than before, but cravings and “head hunger” have returned. For the uninitiated, head hunger is when you think you’re hungry even though there is no possible way your belly could be empty. I find head hunger most often occurs for me within a couple hours of eating a low-protein meal or during times of stress. The head hunger attacks are different, depending upon their cause. When I’m stressed, I feel that I’m famished, even if I have just eaten. But when I haven’t had enough protein, I just feel peckish. It’s as if I go all day long without ever being satisfied by what I eat. I’m not necessarily hungry, just not full.I imagine these phenomena didn’t develop overnight. They’ve probably been quietly lurking beneath the surface for the past couple of months. But now that I’ve recognized them, I have to work hard against them.

This is proof to me that there is no magic pill when it comes to weight loss. Even having my digestive tract rearranged didn’t stop me from having to come to terms with my brain’s ability to sabotage my efforts. The only difference between my current struggle and my weight loss attempts in the past is that surgery enabled me to lose a substantial amount of weight before my mind could interfere. In my old life, I would have lost 20 pounds at this point and felt so far from my goal. But now, I am closer than I have ever been to a normal weight. I’ve lost 150 pounds, and my goal is 35 pounds away — so close I can almost taste it. My goal will come within the next six months, provided I don’t let myself get sidetracked.

Though I still struggle with my eating habits — primarily not going back to my old ways — I am more focused than ever. I work out harder at the gym than I have in the past. Every day that I’m on the treadmill, I’m pushing myself. Last week, I went from walking 30 minutes at a pace of 3.5 miles an hour Tuesday to 30 minutes at 3.7 on Friday. It may not seem like much of an improvement, but it’s made the difference for me from glistening after 30 minutes to being drenched in sweat. I also push myself more on the weight machines. I’m more apt to increase the weight now and then, if only for my last couple of reps.

For some reason, pushing myself so hard at the gym makes me more attuned to my eating habits as well. I’m not perfect, but I find myself paying more attention to my portion size and making better choices on days when I’ve had a tough workout. In my old life, I would have considered a hard workout reason to reward myself with a Carmelo Sensation from Barista’s. Now, I reward myself with a shot of wheatgrass juice from Jamba Juice. I figure if I just finished burning 400 calories, I’d like to keep them off — not invite them back for a visit.

Say nothing at all

Originally published Nov. 19, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

Writing this column about my experiences with gastric-bypass surgery has made me an expert of sorts when it comes to the subject of obesity.

Every now and then I get an e-mail or a phone call from a reader wanting advice. Occasionally, the person wants my advice on how to approach someone about having gastric-bypass surgery.

The request takes different forms. Sometimes, it’s a simple, “There’s somebody I want you to meet. I think they could get a lot out of hearing your story.” Other times, it’s a more direct, “There’s someone I know whom I think would benefit from the surgery you had. What should I tell him?”My response is usually, “Nothing.”

Having struggled with my weight most of my life, I know what a personal battle it is. It’s hard enough going out into the world every day with a visible weakness, knowing what people think when they see you.

Having someone approach you with their answer to your problem is insulting at best. Apply it to a different situation and the insensitivity becomes more apparent. You wouldn’t approach a hirsute woman and tell her that laser hair removal would be the perfect solution to her unsightly beard. Nor would you tell Uncle Charles that a little lipo would take care of those love handles in a jiffy. So why would you suggest major surgery to an overweight coworker?

The answer to that is simple.

In our diet-crazed society, obesity is the one shortcoming that isn’t taboo to discuss in public. Under the guise of showing concern, we are free to tell Uncle Charles that his big belly is bad for his heart, and insurance just might cover gastric bypass. We don’t think twice about asking a coworker to join us at our next Weight Watchers meeting. We freely assume that overweight people are unhealthy and unhappy.Though that was true for me, it’s not true for everyone. I see plus-sized individuals at the gym every day who could run circles around most skinny-minnies — and they are proud to boast low blood pressure and cholesterol. And then there are people like David Letterman, who despite his slender physique, had emergency heart surgery just a few years ago.

Gastric bypass seems to me to have become the latest fad in the quest to overcome obesity. I think it’s an important tool, but it’s one that should be reserved only for those who truly want to make the lifestyle changes required. It can be a dangerous procedure that carries a laundry list of possible complications. It’s not a decision to be taken lightly or one that should be thrust upon someone else. It’s very personal, and I think those who are most successful after surgery are the ones who came to the decision on their own — without prodding from well-meaning friends or relatives.

Having said that, I would be remiss not to mention the other side of the coin.

Local life coach Monika Villasenor, who had gastric bypass about five years ago, believes that it’s OK to address destructive behavior in those close to us, provided it’s being done for the right reasons.

“Giving unwanted feedback to someone usually is not well-received,” she said to me during a recent chat.

Besides, Monika adds, it’s lot easier to dissect somebody else’s life than it is to face one’s own reality.S

he says it’s important to be clear before you approach someone that your intent comes from love and true concern as opposed to being a distraction from the pain that may exist in your own life.

“Is it serving you or serving them? There is a very fine line,” she said.

Old habits die hard

Originally published Nov. 12, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

Whenever I think my old life is behind me, something comes up to remind me that I’m still at the very beginning stages of an amazing life change. Sometimes I worry that no matter how hard I work, I’ll never overcome the habits that led to my morbid obesity. I know Rome wasn’t built in a day and all, but it would be nice to just rest on my laurels every now and then.

Stress is my downfall
Before having bariatric surgery in February, my biggest issue was stress. Actually, stress wasn’t the issue so much as my reaction to it. In times of stress or heavy burden, the first thing to go for me would be diligence in taking care of myself.

Exercise has always been the first thing to go. I would skip workouts, thinking that the time I generally spend in the gym would be better spent on commitments at work or home. But it was rarely the case that it would be enough. Sooner or later, I’d find myself skipping meals or grabbing a 99-cent heart attack on the run, all the while telling myself there was no time to fuel my body properly. After a couple weeks of that behavior — along with not sleeping enough — my energy would be zapped and I’d start frequenting cafés for blended triple-shot espresso drinks. Between the sugar and the caffeine, I’d be jolted into semiconsciousness for at least half a day. I’ve known this type of behavior is self-defeating for some time, but I could never figure out how to curb it. I just hoped that having my digestive system rerouted would make such behavior impossible. Boy was I wrong.

Still a struggle
It’s been almost eight months since my surgery, and for the most part, I’ve stayed on the narrow path. I skipped the gym for the better part of a month or so, but that was it. My tender tummy (or pouch, which is what it really is now) wouldn’t allow me to scarf anything, much less gulp a caffeinated drink or eat a Big Mac. Besides that, I didn’t suffer from head hunger yet and I had no trouble sticking with only eating three meals a day. Sometimes, it was even a struggle to eat more than two in a day. But over the last month, I’ve noticed the capacity of my pouch has increased. This is nothing to be worried about. It’s common for the tissue to relax around this time and start accommodating more food.T hat’s not a problem, so long as I stay on program and use that extra room to fit in more healthy protein, vegetables and some fruit. The problem is that staying on program is really hard for me when I’m frazzled.

Mindless eating
At first I noticed my hands reaching for crackers when I was confronted with problems at work. If I didn’t stop myself fast enough, I’d know the error of my ways within an hour when a killer stomachache would set in. The too-full feeling is miserable after gastric-bypass surgery. There is abdominal cramping, accompanied by the feeling of having a stitch in your side as well as chest pain. The worst part of it all is that nothing can be done to alleviate the problem; you just have to wait it out.

Every time this would happen, I would chastise myself and vow to be more mindful.

Of course, if I could be mindful all the time, this wouldn’t be a problem. Now, I’m aware that this problem of mine still exists, but I still have no solution. At least I don’t skip workouts as much anymore. I have my workout partner to thank for that. She is ever diligent about picking me up four days a week, and she doesn’t let me slack off one bit at the gym.

As for my eating habits, they are a work in progress. I used to keep on-program foods at the office in case I was too buried with work to leave for lunch, but then I found myself mindlessly munching on those items between meals. I know from experience there is such thing as too much of something good. But now that my office is devoid of snackables, I run the risk of skipping meals, which is bad for me on many levels.

Lack of protein still makes me weak, and my blood sugar is prone to getting too low. Though I don’t have the answers to this problem, I’m working on it. I know there’s a solution, and it’s important to me to find it. I don’t want to wake up five years from now at the same weight I was eight months ago. That would make having surgery irrelevant, and I worked too hard for that.

Soaring to new heights

Originally published Nov. 5, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

I’ve never been a fan of the outdoors. My fair skin burns easily in the sun, and watching “Jaws” one too many times as a young child has ensured that I never feel entirely safe in water that’s not contained in a bathtub.But before I had gastric-bypass surgery in February, I realized that liking the outdoors was never really an option for me. The only hiking I ever did was at science camp in the sixth grade. As the biggest kid in the class, I spent so much time trying to keep up, I never got the chance to really appreciate the sights. That experience shaped my feelings toward the outdoorsfrom then on.

As my surgery neared, my husband and I started compiling a list of things we thought weight loss would help me accomplish. It included places we wanted to go that I didn’t feel comfortable visiting when I was more than 300 pounds. One of the big goals I had was to go hiking. My husband enjoys camping, fishing, water skiing, snow skiing and just being out in the fresh air.He feels a sense of renewal when communing with nature. It became important to me to at least try to share in his love once I was healthy enough to do so.

First hike leads to future plans
Our original plan was to go to Mount Diablo during the summer, but I still had a lot of trouble tolerating the heat, so we never went. In September, my husband and I joined his family on a picnic in Knights Ferry. It was a warm day, but I found the area to be pretty. We went back last weekend and enjoyed a short hike along the Stanislaus River.

Nestled between Oakdale and Sonora, Knights Ferry seems to stay fairly cool. We started with a walk from thepicnic grounds across the 365-foot-long covered bridge — reportedly the longest of its kind — and headed away from the town’s ruins toward the hills. Our hike took us from golden foothills to the rocky riverbank. I clambered up rocks that my husband, at 6-foot-4, easily leapt upon. I slipped a time or two, sliding on my backside, but all in all, it was loads of fun. I got dirty and sweaty but enjoyed the time with my husband — even when the only sound was that of my panting.

After the hike, we went back to the picnic grounds and talked about how much fun we had. We both agreed that our sneakers were too slippery and that we’d need actual hiking boots before trying another jaunt. At my husband’s urging, we left the grounds to check out a store he saw along the way in Oakdale that specializes in hiking boots. About $80 later, we left the store with a pair of boots for each of us and plans to tackle Mount Diablo this weekend.I n Danville, the park is expecting cool weather this weekend and we hope to take advantage of it to explore Rock City and Fossil Ridge. Maybe this time I’ll remember to take a camera so I can bring back proof of our trip.

Trying to heal the inner child

Originally published Oct. 29, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

It’s official. I now weigh less than I did when I was 10 years old. Click for stats.The first day that I weighed in below 199 pounds, I was in shock. After a week, I was excited.But once the excitement wore off, I discovered a new emotion: anger.
My husband would say that my anger is nothing new. He thinks I’ve been angry quite awhile. It has something to do with no longer being able to squelch my feelings with food. But this new anger is different. It’s immature and unreasonable.

Angry little kid
Every time I look in the mirror, I become a mad 10-year-old. I’m angry with adults in my life who looked at me and didn’t see anything wrong. I’m angry with my pediatrician for not telling my mother that having such an obese child was a problem. My bariatric doctors warned me before I had this surgery that as the weight dropped, emotional issues would surface.

Though I worked hard to prepare for what might arise, this is one issue that I never saw coming. I thought I had made peace with the events of my childhood. The adult in me says that my mom did the best she could with the knowledge she had at the time. My doctor was no miracle worker. When he looked at me, he probably saw a kid with the deck stacked against her. He knew there was a family history of obesity, and he probably knew that lecturing my mother wouldn’t do any good. I presume he gave the best advice he could in such circumstances. I remember him telling my mom that it wasn’t such a bad thing, but it might be a good idea to have me try not to gain any more weight. I was in the fifth grade then, but I remember it all clearly. I also remember crying myself to sleep after the first day of eighth grade when I weighed in at 203. I had maintained my weight for three years, but somehow over the summer, it crept up on me. That’s when I began dieting in earnest.

As an adult, I think I should probably thank that doctor for saving me from the yo-yo diet routine for three years. After all, if he had done what I wish he had — required my mom to help me lose weight — it probably would only have served to start me on that path so much sooner. That should count for something. But the sullen 10-year-old rants. All she can remember are the taunts and teasing that made walking to and from school seem unbearable. She remembers having to wear ill-fitting clothing because manufacturers at the time weren’t in the business of creating stylish outfits for plus-sized children.

Going back in time
I’d love to go back in time and have a talk with the 10-year-old me. I’d tell her that she might feel powerless, but as an adult, she’d be in control of her own destiny. I’d tell her about the power of making good choices. I’d talk to that girl’s mom and tell her how her daughter’s size was a prison, and that she should do something about it. I’d encourage her to take daily walks with her daughter and develop an active lifestyle. I’d visit the doctor and tell him his complacent attitude wasn’t helping anyone. I’d encourage him to be more proactive when dealing with overweight patients and their parents.

Of course, going back in time is impossible. All I can do is acknowledge that it’s normal for me feel this way. When the angry 10-year-old makes an appearance, I try my best to listen to her. Maybe through this process, the little girl inside of me will heal her heart.

Keeping an eye on the goal

Originally published Oct. 8, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

When I first decided to have gastric-bypass surgery, I set a modest goal for myself. I decided that I wanted to weigh 200 pounds after one year.I picked that goal because it’s the average of what I weighed from the age of 10 to 18. I figured if I could maintain that weight for eight years before, it would be realistic goal to maintain for the rest of my life.The only problem is that when I weighed 335 pounds, it never occurred to me I could be in the ballpark of 200 pounds seven months after surgery. And when that happened, I realized it was time to revisit my goal weight.
Obviously, my body is capable of being thinner, and I have 12 months left of the “honeymoon” period to lose more weight. All gastric-bypass patients have an 18- month honeymoon period to lose as much excess weight as possible before their bodies get wise and figure out a way to consume more food and absorb more nutrients from the food ingested.My new goal weight needs to be low enough that it accounts for regaining 10 or 20 pounds (common after two years) without significantly hurting my health. After much thought, I’ve settled on a goal weight of 160 pounds.At 5-foot, 3-inches tall, weighing 160 pounds puts my body mass index at 26.9, still considered overweight. A normal BMI is between 18.5 and 24.95. However, it’ll be the closest to normal I’ve ever been.This goal may end up being temporary. I’m about 40 pounds away from my goal at the moment. Twenty pounds from now, I plan to revisit this goal. I may decide that I want to try for a more normal weight. If I do, then I’ll change my goal again at that time.One thing I’ve learned since surgery is the importance of being flexible with my goals and expectations because one never knows what will occur.As I often say, every day brings a new challenge and a new reward. I’m just enjoying the journey for what it’s worth.

Is that what I really look like?

Originally published Oct. 1, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

As the excess weight melts from my body, I’m surprised by the form that has begun to emerge. One coworker said the other day, “Who knew you had such a little person hiding in there?”I sure didn’t, and I’m glad I’m not the only one in shock.Before surgery, I resembled Humpty Dumpty in my roundness. I looked broad. I was almost as wide as I was tall. I credited my Azorean heritage for my “big bones.” Well, I may have inherited a lot of traits from my Portuguese parents, but it seems big bones weren'tamong them.My shoulders have narrowed, my waist and hips have slimmed down, and as I’ve written in the past, bones seem to be poking out all over.
Stepping into the GapI even went shopping at the Gap outlet store here in Tracy for the first time ever over the weekend. I wasn’t there to buy anything, but I wanted to gauge what my size would be in a “normal” store. I took a variety of items into the dressing room, mainly XL tops and size 18 bottoms.The tops were fitted but looked good to me. The pants, on the other hand, did not. I had no trouble getting them on, but they weren’t as attractive as I had hoped. I spent a good 10 minutes examining the softest pair of jeans ever to cover my behind. I thought the mirror or my eyes might be playing tricks on me.My shopping companion said she thought they looked good. When I told her I didn’t like them because they made my thighs look wider than my hips, her response floored me.“Well, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Besides, that’s how your body is shaped.”Excuse me?! Since when?I don’t recall ever having that body shape. My hips have always been the widest part of my body, though at my heaviest, my stomach was quickly catching up.I put the pants back and left the store without buying anything.
'Measurements don't lie'The next day, I decided to take my measurements to see if my friend was right or if the jeans were just evil.Measurements don’t lie. In fact, many weight-loss professionals recommend using measurements over body weight to monitor weight loss/muscle gain because they are more reliable.I wish I didn’t know that.At my heaviest, my hips were 64 inches around — yes, that means my hips were about 5 feet 3 inches, and that’s equal to my height.Imagine how excited I was to measure them now at 48 inches. A loss of 14 inches in seven months is pretty exciting, even if it was helped along by gastric-bypass surgery. Then I measured my thighs. The left one is 27 inches around, and the right one is 26½, down a bit from 33 and 32½, respectively.So, the combined measurement is 53½ inches, and that means my hips are now about five inches smaller than my thighs. If only I could blame the jeans.
A plan of actionThough my findings are shocking to me, I’m not losing sleep over this. Getting worked up over one’s body shape is akin to fighting the color of the sky — not worth the effort. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to work hard to see if this new body shape might be temporary.To achieve that goal, I’ve increased my cardio to 35 minutes four days a week. I’ve also switched from using the elliptical cross-trainer to the treadmill, just to see if that might make a difference. But I’ve been careful to keep my intensity high to ensure I’m getting the same level of workout as before.I know some women fear weight training bulks up the body, but I know better. Building muscle burns fat, and I want to burn all I can. And that means I’m lifting weights five days as week as well, but I’m making sure to give each muscle group 48 hours to rest before working it again.
Not aloneAs I work with this new challenge, I must say I find comfort in knowing I’m not alone.Reader Pat King, a 59-yearold Patterson woman who works at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory, has also noticed unexpected changes since having gastric bypass about 6½ months ago.Earlier this week, she e-mailed to tell me about the thrill of receiving a bag full of cute career clothes from a daughter who just had a baby.“Now I just have to sit down and shorten all of them, because not only has my weight gone down, but I’ve also shrunk a couple of inches in the past two years thanks to osteoporosis,” she wrote.Though I’m sure Pat would love to have those two inches in height back if possible, I like her attitude. I’m going to make sure I keep the same frame of mind as I go through my own changes.

Another year older — and wiser

Originally published Sept. 24, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

I turned 28 this week. Not a milestone birthday by any means, but it’s given me reason to reflect.This time last year, I weighed about 330 pounds. I was patiently awaiting my preoperative orientation, scheduled for October. I hadn’t yet decided if gastric bypass was something I wanted to pursue for weight loss. I was working hard to eat right and exercise while weighing the pros and cons of surgical weight loss.
A trip to the cityFor my birthday, I visited the wharf in San Francisco with a friend. We had planned to spend the day shopping till we dropped on the piers. I wasn’t able to do much shopping before I dropped. I didn’t have a lot of energy. I was hot and sweaty and generally didn’t have that great of a time.My family joined us for dinner at Tahoe Joe’s, a steakhouse in Modesto known for its gigantic portions. What I remember most about the evening is trying to educate the hostesses on why our party of six (three of whom were large women) could not squeeze itself into a booth.Finally, I compromised with a hostess that we would sit outside if she could provide armless dining chairs for the table instead of plastic patio furniture.Aside from that, the evening was pleasant. Most of us ate too much, drank too much and complained about it as we were doing it.
A very different birthdayThis year’s birthday was markedly different. There was a weekend picnic that involved me traipsing up and down a steep grade to travel between the picnic grounds and bathrooms more than twice. We had water-balloon relays, some people went fishing and others took long walks. Most attendees enjoyed KFC chicken and a potluck of side dishes and appetizers. I was perfectly happy to have a few Wheat Thins with sliced turkey and cheese.On my actual birthday, my husband and I went out to dinner with my mom. I had a craving for prime rib and horseradish, which led us to Black Angus in Stockton. I enjoyed a cocktail shrimp off the appetizer platter, a spoonful of the baked potato soup, a few small bites of the prime rib and a nibble or two of zucchini. And I was done — not too full but satisfied. Our dinner came with a huge slab of gooey chocolate cake, but I had no trouble asking the server to box it up so I could take to work the next day for my coworkers to enjoy.
Quality of life improvesAs I think of the changes I’ve experienced in this past year, I realize that my weight may be the most obvious, but quality of life is the most meaningful.A year ago, I was scared to have gastric-bypass surgery because I thought it might mean that I’d have to give up everything I thought I loved in life — like chocolate, good food and socializing. Yet I find I enjoy life so much more now that I can ever remember before. I see how small a role eating and drinking without limits played in my happiness. Or maybe those were keys to my happiness before because I was trapped in a prison of obesity. Not any more.

The true meaning of free

Originally published Sept. 17, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

It seems that every week I write about some amazing new discovery on my journey toward a healthier me.Sometimes I worry that I sound like a broken record. I hope that’s not the case. The truth is that every day brings a revelation.Take last weekend, for example.
My husband and I decided to celebrate our fifth anniversary with a trip to Monterey. It was our first getaway since our honeymoon. I was excited about the trip because I knew I could be so much more active than I’ve ever been during our marriage. After all, I’m thinner and healthier than I’ve been in that time.We booked a hotel room at one end of Cannery Row and didn’t use our car again for the next three days. We traipsed up and down Cannery Row, walked along Fisherman’s Wharf and had a great time shopping downtown.Despite logging miles on foot each day, my knees and feet never gave me any trouble. By the second day, my thighs were a little sore from all the stairs, but I didn’t let it stop me.In fact, I groaned the one time my husband insisted that we take an elevator because he was tired of bounding up and down the same set of stairs so I could compare prices at different shops.It seemed I had limitless energy. We spent close to five hours at the aquarium, and I never felt the need to stop or sit down even once.But beyond my level of energy, I had another, even more profound realization.
Food not the first thoughtMy old life had practically revolved around my next meal. Whenever I would travel somewhere, I’d plot my route by the eateries along the way. Driving through Los Banos was always a treat because it meant we could visit Woolgrowers, the best Basque restaurant I’ve ever tried. Meeting people in Livermore was great because we could have lunch at Strizzi’s on First Street. We’d search for reasons to shop at the Stoneridge Mall in Pleasanton just for an excuse to eat at Todai, the mall’s Japanese buffet.Once, I even traveled all the way to South Lake Tahoe with a cousin just to eat ribs at Hoss Hoggs.But food played a very small role for me in Monterey — and I still had the time of my life. I didn’t feel compelled to eat saltwater taffy just because we were in a coastal town. I didn’t feel obligated to eat at every restaurant that looked appealing or offered a “buy one, get one” coupon. The idea of where or what to eat didn’t cross my mind until my tummy started rumbling. And even when we did get hungry, we just shut our eyes and pointed in the general direction of a restaurant to try.We chose restaurants based on the ambiance and what was offered on the menu. I never once felt deprived because I couldn’t order everything that looked good. I took my time perusing the menu and picked dishes that sounded flavorful. Though I could eat only a few bites at each meal, I wasn’t upset or disappointed. I took my time eating, soaking up the atmosphere and enjoying my husband’s company.
FreedomFood no longer held the power over me that it once did. For the first time in my memory, my life didn’t revolve around food. Food has become to me what it’s always been intended — necessary to survival.Not only did I have an amazing vacation with my husband in a romantic place by the ocean. I learned something about myself — both the person I used to be and the person I’ve become since having gastric-bypass surgery in February.

Best friends — through thick and thin

Originally published Sept. 10, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

There’s an inside joke among people in the bariatric community that the second most common side effect of surgical weight loss is divorce.Before surgery, doctors and mental health professionals spend a lot of time talking with bariatric patients about their relationships with their spouses. The doctors try to drive home the point that any problems in the marriage before surgery will be even more glaring after surgery.Unfortunately, the same attention isn’t given to all relationships.
I’ve sat in countless support groups and listened to post-operative patients address unexpected changes in relationships.Sometimes, it’s about coworkers who used to be friendly but have become snippy as the patient has lost weight. Other times, it’s about relatives who discount the person’s weight loss because it was helpedalong by surgery. But most often, it’s about friends — and that’s when the situation seems to be most hurtful.Gastric-bypass surgery was a big decision for me. First, I had to decide that it was the right solution to my weight problem. Then I had to figure out how my size played into my marriage and how drastic weight loss would affect that.Once I figured that out, I turned my attention to my circle of friends, particularly my best friend.
Long friendshipI’ve known Amber since the eighth grade, though our friendship didn’t develop fully until after high school.At 18, I supported her in the delivery room as she gave birth to her son. I held her bouquet when she married his father, and I held her snotty tissues when she went through her divorce.She’s been there for me during tough times, too — when my husband and I had to live on separate coasts while he finished his military work, and when I found out I may not be able to conceive a baby.Despite all the changes we’ve gone through over the years, there has been one constant: I’ve always outweighed her by 50 pounds or more. Whether we were 12, 22 or 27, I’ve always been bigger — even when she was pregnant.
Preparation is keyWe spent a lot of time before I had surgery discussing that dynamic. We agreed that it would be different for me to be the thinner one, but as Amber said, “We’ve been friends too long to let something as petty as weight get between us.”Now I find myself amazed at me how right she was. Of all the relationships I have, ours has changed the least since surgery. Amber would say that’s not true; it’s just that our relationship is always changing, which makes it less noticeable. Maybe she’s right.She’s handling the situation much better than I thought she would.She gleefully gave me a couple pairs of slacks a month ago that were too big for her, but she’s just as excited to shop in my closet to pick out shirts that are too big for me. On the other hand, I’m not handling it as well. Though my weight loss isn’t straining our friendship as I expected, it’s causing me to dig deep inside myself to find out why being the same size as her is unnerving. I have no real answer to that question, except to say that I’ve never had friends bigger than me. I’ve always been the “fat friend.” And for the most part, that’s been a comfortable role for me. I’m embarking on new territory in my journey toward a new me, and the terrain is rough but not impossible.If anything, I’m learning that each day brings new experiences and challenges. Some I’m prepared for, but others I’m not. I don’t have all the answers, but I’m learning to accept that.Instead of pondering the hows and whys of my relationship with Amber, I should count my blessings. Not everyone is so lucky to have a friendship that can remain true through thick and thin.

Sizing down

Originally published Sept. 3, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

OK, it’s official. I am thinner. I know it seems I’m stating the obvious, but I feel obligated to admit that I’ve finally noticed the changes in my appearance.Until recently, if someone commented that I looked thinner, I would respond with “Do I?” or “Do you think so?” I wasn’t trying to be coy; I really couldn’t see a difference.However, that all changed when working on last week’s column.
At first, it just had to do with comparing the “before” picture with the one taken last week. I included many of the differences noticed in that column. However, I still didn’t notice them when looking in a mirror. I just looked like Tonya. No different from before.It wasn’t until trying on a pair of size-16 twill pants in a Kohl’s dressing room last weekend that I truly saw a difference.I didn’t expect the pants to even go over my hips, but they did. And then I stood there in front of the mirror, telling myself that they wouldn’t zip up, but they did. I tried them on with a large-size knit top, which also fit. And it was at that moment, looking in the mirror, that I saw the physical changes that everyone else has been telling me about.At first I thought the color combination (wine-colored top with black pants) was playing tricks with my eyes. But the more I looked at myself, the more I noticed. What first struck me was that the tummy bulge that seemed a permanent part of my appearance was less noticeable. As I turned to the side, I realized my thighs have actually gotten smaller.Before surgery, I feared that my whole body would shrink except for my thighs, giving me the world’s worst body shape imaginable.Looking up from the side, I realized my back had no visible fat rolls.There was no flesh bulging over or under my bra strap, no “love handles” flopping over my waistband.Feeling under my arm, I realized there was no flab pushing against my bra at all. That doesn’t mean there isn’t any there, it’s just not so much that it can’t be held in.After looking at each individual body part, I took a minute to take in the whole picture once again. And I couldn’t help but marvel at the realization of being 120 pounds thinner than I was a year ago.At 215, I’m about the same weight I was when I graduated high school. I didn’t have as many stretch marks back then as I do now, and my skin was a lot more supple and youthful. But I think that’s true for many women in their late 20s. Sure, they may have had babies and stuff, but it’s still true.I’ve gone from wearing a too-tight size 28 in February of this year to a snug 16 or loose 18 on bottom, and large or XL on top. And, for the first time ever, I weigh less than what my driver’s license says I do. How’s that for a strange situation? I look forward to getting it renewed next year and taking a new picture and recording a new weight. I might actually dress up for the occasion.It’s been a good six months, and I look forward to noticing more changes in the weeks to come.

After six months, much has changed

Originally published Aug. 27, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

My, how time flies. It’s hard for me to believe it’s been six months since I had gastric-bypass surgery. I think I’ve said this before, but bear with me: It feels like another lifetime.Every month, something seems to take me by surprise. This last month, I tried to stay on top of things by keeping a list of new experiences. I didn’t expect the list to be quite as long as it is, especially considering that these are only new experiences that have occurred since July 24, but I think it shows that the body can go through changes even when the scale doesn’t seem to move much.
I’ve lost 10 pounds in the last month, which brings my total weight lost to 120 pounds since last year. I’ve lost close to 95 pounds in the past six months. As one coworker frequently points out to me, sometimes my body changes dramatically independent of weight. For instance, he swears I have dimples in my cheeks that have only appeared within the last week or so. In that time, I’ve lost 3 pounds. I doubt 3 pounds would make the difference between having dimples or not, but this coworker assures me they are there when I smile.There are days I wake up to find my pants are too big, when I would swear they were still snug on me the day before. Or somebody will comment that I look a lot “narrower” suddenly, when I know I’ve dropped just a couple of pounds. This isn’t a complaint, just an illustration of how marvelous the body can be. I expected to lose weight at a rapid pace, but I don’t think I fully appreciated all the changes my body would go through.
Speaking of changes, here’s a list of my new experiences in the last month:
Fitting in chairsThroughout the last six months, I’ve discovered my rear end fitting better in certain chairs. First, it was my office chair that was a little roomier. Then I noticed I was able to sit in a movie theater seat without the arm rests cutting into my thighs and hips. Then I noticed patio furniture didn’t feel as if it would break beneath my weight. My recent experience is that of just sitting down in the nearest chair without ever thinking of whether it would support me. Talk about a new freedom.
Towels fit around meI discovered this while staying with a friend one weekend. As per my usual routine, I lugged all of my clothes into the guest bathroom before showering. Bath towels haven’t fit around me since I was in high school, and even the bath sheets at my house stopped fitting around me a couple of years ago. However, when I got out of the shower and was trying to do my hair, I absent-mindedly wrapped the bath towel around myself and knotted it to free my hands. I dropped my hair gel when I looked in the mirror and found the towel covered me. It didn’t overlap much, but I’ll take what I can get.
Wearing my husband’s T-shirtsThis is the most recent discovery. After a long day at work Wednesday, I took a short break to run home and change clothes before heading back to the office. I put on a new pair of red workout pants and was rummaging around for a T-shirt to wear with them. Red is not a color that goes well with most of my T-shirts. My husband pointed to one of his shirts and suggested I try it. I looked at him sideways and asked if he really thought it would fit. After all, he’s a beanpole. He reminded me that it’s a men’s extra large. I tried it on to humor him and about fell over to find that it fit. We were equally shocked. Of course, my husband now regrets his suggestion. Suddenly, he’s afraid I might take a liking to more of his shirts.
Being coldI almost froze my rear end off last week at the Double Funk Crunch concert in Lincoln Park. My wonderful husband ran home to get me a sweatshirt. I used to sweat every moment of every day, whether I was indoors or out. Now it has to be in the 90s or I have to be doing something active to break a sweat. We still keep our place on the cool side, but I’ve started to keep a second blanket on my side of the bed for nighttime.
Running up stairsI caught myself doing this one day at the office when I was in a rush. I surprised myself so much that I stopped halfway up the flight, thinking, “Did I just run up half a flight of stairs? What the heck am I thinking? I could fall.” After my senses took hold, I finished the flight by walking, but just knowing I could run up and down the stairs if I wanted to without suffering chest pains makes me smile — a lot.
Sitting in my husband’s lapSpending much of the last five years being twice the size of my husband, I’ve become quite conscious of my ability to hurt him without realizing it. I wouldn’t usually put any part of my body on him for fear of my weight crushing his legs or something (yes, I realize that sounds ridiculous, but I’m allowed to be silly and insecure if I want). One day, while sitting behind me, my husband decided to pull me into his lap. It was quite a comfortable seat, but then it occurred to me that I might be too heavy. I asked him if I was hurting him, but he said it didn’t. Now I sit there more often.
Hand-me-downs from friendsNever in my life have I been able to share clothes with friends. In the last 10 years, I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend who wore clothes the same size as me or bigger. But just last week, a friend of mine gave me about 10 or 12 shirts that she can’t wear anymore. All of them were misses XLs from ether The Gap or Old Navy. While they don’t exactly “fit” yet, I can wear the button-up shirts open over a camisole. And I know it’s only a matter of time before I’ll be wearing those same shirts buttoned.
Whew. I think this might be the most eventful month I’ve had thus far on this life-changing journey. There’s not one thing I take for granted. As I read over what I’ve written, I’m yet again amazed by how small my world was when I weighed 315 pounds, and how much it’s grown as my body has gotten smaller. I can’t wait to see what the next month has in store.

Convenience counts when it comes to protein

Originally published Aug. 13, 2005, in Our Town for the Tracy Press.

Open my file drawer at the office, and you’ll find a veritable plethora of protein supplements and convenience foods geared to helping me meet my protein requirements.
The vegetable bin of my refrigerator has also been converted into Protein Central. That’s where I keep all my ready-to-drink protein supplements.
If I seem a bit obsessed with protein, that’s because I am. With protein being the body’s building block, it’s important that I make sure to get enough of it. Protein is the key player in cell development, so not much happens in the human body without it.
I’ve been more focused on protein lately for a couple of reasons. One is the hair loss I mentioned a couple of weeks ago. The body needs a sufficient protein supply to build hair and nails, as well as repair tissue. Not getting enough protein could prolong the hair-loss phase, and that’s not OK by me.The second reason protein has taken center stage for me is because I’ve discovered a host of convenient products to help me make sure I meet my daily requirement. Like most people, the easier something is for me to do, the more likely I am to do it.
How much is enough?According to the University of Iowa’s Hospitals and Clinics, we need 8 grams of protein for every 20 pounds of body weight. For me, that equates to 88 grams a day.Some doctors advocate using the formula with your ideal weight as opposed to your current weight. However, in the case of gastric-bypass patients, everything consumed is not necessarily absorbed. My doctors recommend that their surgical weight-loss patients consume at least 80 grams of protein a day in hopes that about 60 grams are absorbed and used by the body.The constraints of a 2- to 4-ounce stomach pouch make getting in 80 grams of protein a challenge, to say the least. Most protein sources — eggs, cheese, poultry, beef, fish, etc. — provide about 8 grams of protein per ounce. I don’t know anyone in the first post-operative year who can eat 4 ounces at every sitting. Most of us eat two very small meals a day and one larger one. For example, I generally can consume 2 ounces at each sitting. But at lunchtime, I’m often able to eat 3 or 4 ounces, especially if I’ve exercised that day. That means I fit in about 8 ounces of food each day. Even if I were to focus strictly on protein-rich foods, I’d be able to get only 60 grams of protein a day. That’s where supplements come in.
Protein supplements may not sound appetizing, but they are a great way to get in 30 or 40 grams in one shot. It seems supplements are getting tastier and healthier all the time.
Zero-Carb IsopureMy newest favorite is Zero-Carb Isopure’s ready-to-drink protein supplement. Similar in appearance and taste to Gatorade or Kool-Aid, Isopure boasts 40 grams of whey protein in each 20-ounce bottle — all for about 160 calories. My favorite flavors so far are alpine punch and mango peach, though apple melon isn’t too bad.Isopure is best when served well-chilled or over ice, and I like it because it’s not thick or milky like most protein drinks. Tracy gets too hot in the summer for me to stomach a thick, creamy shake in the mornings.Isopure’s punch-like consistency makes it something I’m able to drink throughout the day, instead of having to chug down all 20 ounces in one sitting. It’s even great to take to the gym in place of water, though I find it gets too warm too quickly in that environment.
Achiev OneAnother yummy, ready-to-drink supplement is Achiev One’s coffee drinks.The fact that they are made with coffee and contain caffeine makes them unsuitable for most bypass patients, including me. But I have tried a couple of their flavors, and I can attest to their tastiness.For 120 calories, Achiev One offers a fat-free, sugar-free version of the Starbucks Frappucino drinks you can buy in stores. The only difference is that the Achiev One drinks also provide 20 grams of protein. Not a bad way to get your daily coffee fix.
Convenience countsAside from providing a much-needed protein boost, supplements such as the two mentioned above also make getting needed nutrients convenient. When I followed Weight Watchers a few years ago, I discovered that I never had trouble eating healthy foods when I had time to prepare them. It was when I got busy that I’d get myself into trouble. Having gastric-bypass surgery didn’t change that about me. I’m still more apt to shelve good eating and exercise habits in times of stress or when I’m busy.Protein bars and ready-made drinks have become my salvation. If I oversleep, I grab a drink from the fridge to sip when I get to work. If I get too busy to take a lunch break, I reach into my drawer for a protein bar. Having such options helps me make sure my body gets what it needs and keeps me on the path to success.