Big Fat Chick's Journal

Obsessed

bigfatchick@gmail.com — Fri, 14 Mar 08 09:30:00 UT

I had an early morning fat girl-freakout this morning because I:

a.) overslept;
b.) didn't have time to work out before work; and
c.) realized that there's a big party in the lobby of my building tonight and I won't feel comfortable working out in front of all those revelers.

Then I had a WTF moment where I asked myself: Who the hell *are* you anyway? Since when have you become the type of person that freaks out if they can't work out? That *cries* even?

Then I come to work, sip my coffee, and obsessively check all of my fitness, diet, and body image blogs to see who has posted, realize there isn't anything new (I just checked all of them at 11pm, mind you), and got peeved that I had nothing motivational to read, no new work out tips, no new studies to read about, no rants.

Grrr.

I haven't made much progress since last I posted. At least, I haven't made much progress on the scale. I did, however, have to switch from 5 lb. to 8 lb. weights when doing certain upper body moves because the 5s just weren't challenging enough anymore. And I did a record number of wall squats with the stability ball that had me jerkily stumbling around in my apartment for two days afterwards. I've stepped up the speed on my runs a bit, too. So...progress there has been...

Let's just see if I can find some way, any way, to work out after work today...

Progress

bigfatchick@gmail.com — Thu, 28 Feb 08 07:54:00 UT

Nine and half weeks into my commitment to lose fifty pounds, I've succeeded in losing 12.5 pounds and 9.2 inches.

Today, I'm trying heartily to focus on what I've achieved and not get frustrated at my lack o' progress in the last three weeks. I've been at something of a standstill. I'm also trying not to sweat the fact that 2.5 of those inches lost came from my *breasts.* So not cool.

I felt amazing at the beginning of this month. I was so aware of the changes in my body, aware of how even my *shape* is changing, I'm not just shrinking. My waist is getting absolutely tiny...already! I was feeling so sexy, and I just couldn't keep my hands off of my honey.

Not only that, but I wanted to go OUT more. I never before realized that my body image had so much control over my social life. I'd always figured the reason that I didn't want to go out so often was because I just "wasn't that kind of person." I suppose, really, that I didn't want to go out because I much preferred to hide in my apartment. I had nothing to wear, nothing that fit. I felt so unattractive and uncomfortable in my own skin that I couldn't even put it out of my mind long enough to enjoy a night out with friends. I'm glad to see that this is no longer the case.

Hopefully, this plateau won't last long. I've carved out time for two long work outs today, so while I won't hit the goal I'd set for February's loss, I'll feel a bit better about what I've achieved if I can squeeze in a few extra workouts.

37.5 pounds to go!

- Nooch

Small Victory

bigfatchick@gmail.com — Tue, 8 Jan 08 21:41:00 UT

Today I managed to go from a desperate low to and inexplicable high.

Why?

I worked a full day. I ate like a monk. I went to my favorite Indian restaurant for dinner and ate less than a third of my entree and stopped drinking after one glass of Shiraz. I drank over 64 ounces of water. I came home from dinner and did forty minutes of cardio. I have not had a single Diet Coke all day. I feel amazing.

I can only hold my breath and hope...hope...that days like this finally begin to pay off.

Discouraged

bigfatchick@gmail.com — Tue, 8 Jan 08 11:29:00 UT

Perhaps it is simply because I donât truly believe that I have the skills, the power, and the determination to be in the physical shape that Iâd like to be in, but the good little American consumer in me feels an overwhelming urge, since committing to lose weight once and for all, to go out and âbuy stuff.â

Every time I get distracted at home or at work I troll the internet for purchases that will help me lose weight. Iâve considered joining Weight Watchers and eDiets. Iâve thought about taking Alli, despite all of the disgusting side effects caused by the drug. Iâve looked at gym equipment that I have neither the budget nor the space for. Iâve considered hiring a personal trainer.

So far, Iâve managed to resist the urge to purchase pointless diet aids by purchasing only a book on strength training for women and my first set of weights. Iâm proud that Iâve managed to stay away from so many of the diet gimmicks that have tempted me up until now. I canât help but wonder, why am I so easily tempted? Perhaps, if I were more optimistic, Iâd be shopping for the clothing Iâll undoubtedly buy and wear when Iâm four sizes smaller or Iâd be booking mountain biking trips to New Zealand instead of looking at fat blockers and appetite suppressants. I donât think Iâm looking for a magic pill. I know that this will be hard, that losing weight is up to me. I just wantâ¦help. It makes me sad that Iâm considering taking up smoking again in the vain hope that it will help me to actually, finally, lose these extra pounds.

Iâm still battling to maintain a positive attitude. Iâm getting frustrated that my healthy eating and exercise plan just does not seem to be working. Iâm wondering why my body will just not cooperate the way that Iâd like it to. Iâm considering seeing a doctor to find out why, why Iâm doing all the things I need to be doing and *still* not seeing results. Iâm trying not to get tired of the whole ordeal.

I recognize, though, that the only thing that Iâve ever managed to do consistently is to be inconsistent. Iâll follow a healthy diet and exercise plan for two weeks, only to indulge in burritos and ice cream and be sedentary for a week. So for the next six weeks, Iâve pledged to walk/jog twenty miles on the treadmill each week, adding intervals at least three times per week. Iâll continue my diet of fresh fruit, vegetables, whole grains, beans, and legumes. I will try like hell not to get discouraged.

2.5 pounds down, 47.5 to go.

The Fattest Day

bigfatchick@gmail.com — Wed, 2 Jan 08 12:57:00 UT

I canât count how many New Yearsâ Days I sat on the couch, full and disgusted with myself after weeks of holiday eating and drinking, promising myself that this was the year that I would finally lose weight. Yesterday was an exception. I fear that Iâve at last reached the point where I have no hope, where I donât believe that Iâll ever lose weight, that promising myself that this year will be different is just another lie.

December was brutal. I realized that most of my clothing no longer fits, and I have neither the money nor the patience to go out and find ones that do. When I attended my boyfriendâs work party a few weeks ago, I stood in front of my closet, half naked and sobbing, because I had nothing to wear.

I decided to pick up a new pair of dark jeans while I was Christmas shopping, thinking that if I paired them with heels and a dressy top that Iâd be appropriately dressed for the remaining holiday gatherings. I couldnât pull up the size 12âs. I could barely button the 14âs. I purchased the 16âs without trying them on. My first pair of size 16 jeans. I stood in line, waiting to pay for them, my face flaming with embarrassment and disgust, fearful that the size 2 goddesses at the Gap would see the size of my jeans and judge me. As if anything they could say to me is any worse than the things that Iâm telling myself.

And this morning, I clambered on the scale, body tense, eyes squeezed shut, and braced myself for the number that I would see. Then I saw it. One hundred and ninety pounds. I almost vomited. The fattest Iâve ever been. Every week, it seems, the number representing the âfattest Iâve ever beenâ keeps getting higher and higher. I fear the worst. Will I hit 200? 210? Will my 5â8â body soon outweigh that of my 6â2â boyfriend?

I feel hopeless. Desolate. The memory of the Skinny Me grows ever farther away. Iâm starting to think that I was never thin, never confident, that I never wore that size 6 dress in the back of my closet. I contemplate returning to my old, skinny habits. Purging. Diet pills. Week-long fasts. I remember how my long hair would fall out in the shower. I remember sleeping for 12-hours a day. I remember counting out 20 pretzel sticks and eating them for breakfast, again for lunch, and again for dinner. But Iâm too old, too undisciplined, to live on pretzels and Diet Coke.

Despite my utter disgust with myself, I do what I know the thin, healthy me should be doing. I have oatmeal for breakfast with a tablespoon each of walnuts and dried cranberries. I pack a lunch of baby carrots, cucumbers, red and green peppers, and hummus. I fill my Nalgene. I walk to work. I turn down an invitation to a basketball game, knowing that I need to go to the gym rather than to a sporting even where Iâll be surrounded by beer, pizza, and nachos.

But I canât help but wonder, whatâs the point?

Week 4: The Numbers

bigfatchick@gmail.com — Wed, 12 Dec 07 06:31:00 UT

Weight: 185.0

Lost since last week: 0.5
Total lost: 0.5
Pounds until goal: 40.0

Week 3: Thoughts

bigfatchick@gmail.com — Wed, 5 Dec 07 10:13:00 UT

Iâll admit it. Iâm not really trying.

Work for the past few weeks has been insane, and I donât see things letting up until Christmas. As much as I hate to make excuses, I have to admit that I find it absolutely impossible to deal with actively losing weight when Iâm working 16-hour days. My âleisureâ time consists of sleeping and showering. I have only allotted ten minutes for myself to post here, and then Iâm back to work.

I suppose it is a bit dishonest of me to stay that Iâm not trying at ALL. Steps have been taken. Last weekend, for example, I used some spare time on Sunday to make a few things for the week so that I can avoid the trap of eating something unhealthy simply because my time is short and convenient usually means unhealthy. The large batch of lentil soup and chickpea salad that I made has served me well this week.

Iâve also been drinking at least two full Nalgenes of water per day (thatâs at least 64 oz.). This, for me, is a feat of great discipline. I rarely (if ever) drink water. I drink coffee and Diet Coke practically all day. The only other liquid that passes these lips usually has alcohol in it. I feel strangely different when Iâm properly hydrated. Iâm less tired, less hungry, and less likely to snack. I am, however, amazed to find that people really have time to go to the bathroom so many times per day, but Iâm adjusting.

I'm eating fresh fruit for breakfast with a handful of nuts for protein/fat to tide me over until dinner. I've also been taking vitamins. I should also note tha I am falling a little more in love with pineapple every day.

Iâd really hoped to write more in this journal by now, but my strategy for the next three weeks is just to survive. When work slows down, I hope to find more time for reflection (and more time to get back on that treadmill!).

Until then, back to the grindâ¦

Week 3: The Numbers

bigfatchick@gmail.com — Wed, 5 Dec 07 10:12:00 UT

Weight: 185.5

Lost This Week: 1.5
Total Lost: 0
Pounds Until Goal: 40.5

Week 2: Thoughts

bigfatchick@gmail.com — Wed, 28 Nov 07 11:15:00 UT

So...yeah. Not quite the result I was hoping for this week. It takes major dedication to gain weight the very first week that you officially, publicly declare that you are going to lose it.

I *could* proffer a variety of excuses. There was Thanksgiving. Then there were Thanksgiving leftovers. The Target in my neighborhood is now carrying Silk Nog. Someone (me) made pumpkin pancakes that lasted for two days. Then thereâs the stress. Stress often leaves one at home at night scarfing salt and vinegar potato chips and apple caramel cheesecake.

I *could* talk about what I did right. I climbed out of bed on the morning of Thanksgiving (and the two following mornings) and hit the treadmill in the gym in my building. I ate a lot of vegetables.

Instead, Iâm focusing my day on what I will *not* do today, this week.

I will not let the number on the scale this morning determine how I feel about myself or my life. Too many times have I stepped on the scale, started to cry, and climbed back in bed, defeated. Iâll call myself some pretty nasty names. I wonât do that today.

I will not give up. This is the fifth, FIFTH attempt Iâve made to âlose weightâ since May. I know this because I have a serious of started and abandoned journals, spreadsheets, weight charts, and food logs on the laptop that start with great enthusiasm and excitement and then justâ¦stop. Iâm trying to figure out WHY I stop, WHY I donât stick with things, what the hell my deal is. I figure, if I at least keep writing about it, even if itâs only once a week, perhaps Iâll always be aware.

And finally, I will not eat any junk for the rest of the day. Sometimes, thinking in the long term can get a bit scary. Forty-some pounds is a lot of weight to lose. When you fail to lose or gain weight, it is so easy to lose hope. Today, Iâm not going to sweat the forty-some pounds. Instead, Iâll eat well *today.* Thatâs it. How easy can that be? Facing twelve hours without a chip, a cookie, or that blasted nog feels much more manageable than facing twelve months without them. I can do twelve hours.

Week 2: The Numbers

bigfatchick@gmail.com — Wed, 28 Nov 07 11:14:00 UT

Weigh In: 187.0

Pounds since last week: +1.5
Pounds since day one: +1.5
Pounds until goal: 42.0

Week 1: Initial Weigh In

bigfatchick@gmail.com — Wed, 21 Nov 07 10:35:00 UT

Starting Weight: 185.5

Introductoink

bigfatchick@gmail.com — Wed, 21 Nov 07 10:27:00 UT

I live in what Iâve heard referred to as an âentertainment districtâ in a moderately large (US) city. My apartment is in the midst of bars, clubs, restaurants, and coffee shops. I love where I live, though I donât frequent any of the neighboring bars, clubs, or restaurants (though I do enjoy the coffee shops). Iâm not really the rah-rah type of girl. Iâm more the stay-in-with-a-book or enjoy-quiet-nights-with-friends sort of girl. Iâm a relatively well educated professional. Iâm newly thirty. Iâm a pretty average girl.

Iâm very average. In fact, Iâm the exact size that most websites tell me that the Average American Woman is. Iâm a size 14. Not thin. Not fat. Justâ¦average.

So why, I ask you, was I walking through my neighborhood last night past a group of cooks that had survived the dinner rush and were now breaking for a smoke before cleaning the kitchen, did one of them âoinkâ at me? Thatâs rightâ¦ I said OINK. Like a pig. Like I was a pig. What the fuck?

Sure. Perhaps Iâm paranoid. Perhaps he was looking at someone else. Perhaps he didnât âoinkâ at all. Perhaps all of the other cooks were laughing at something or someone else. I canât be sure. Do I think that Iâm being paranoid? Hell no! I think that someone oinked at my average-sized ass.

This âoinkâ has gotten me thinking. Am I really all that average? Perhaps Iâm grotesquely fat and I just hadnât noticed it. I check the tag in my jeans. Yep. Size 14 (from a regular store, Old Navy). In fact, these are a bit big on me. I prefer smaller size 14s from J. Crew or Gap. Sometimes I can even wear a size 12. But nope, these are size 14. My top? Lemmee checkâ¦ Size large. From Anthropologie. They donât have huge clothes there, so I canât be that big, right?

Perhaps I should look to the handy, though oft-criticized, BMI to decide if Iâm grotesquely fat. Shit. My BMI is 28. TWENTY-EIGHT! If the normal BMI is 18.4-24.9, and overweight is a BMI from 25-29.9, Iâm closer to obese (which starts at a BMI of 30), than I am to a normal weight! To get my BMI to a healthy, letâs say, 22, Iâd have to lose 39 whole pounds.

Ok, thatâs a whole lot of work. But Câmon, so Iâm slightly overweight (exactly 20 pounds overweight, to be exact), does that really warrant random OINKING when Iâm walking through my neighborhood?

This, to me, is the crux of the whole problem, for me. Most American women, me included, have massive body image issues. Weâre obsessed with our figures. Weâre constantly dieting, failing, and then feeling like failures. We fee unattractive, unworthy of affection, and constantly insecure. But, believe it or not, I can live with that. I donât expect perfection from myself, nor do I expect it from anyone else in my life. So what do I want?

I want to be treated with respect. I want not to be treated like an overweight farm animal when Iâm walking down the street. I want to go to a job interview and not worry that the hiring personnel will offer the job to someone equally (or even less) qualified than I am because theyâre âthin.â I want to go to a bar with my girlfriends (when it happens) and not be the one that needs to be âdistractedâ by a decoy guy while his friends hit on my hot friends. I want to stop being invisible. I want to stop FEELING invisible.

Iâve been thin before. Iâve been very thin. Iâve made myself sick from being too thin. I remember, though, people treating me much differently then, than they do now. Our society worships the young and thin. I wonder, these days, did I imagine it all? Were people really friendlier, or was my perception just different? Perhaps I was merely more naÃ¯ve, more optimistic.

So here is my experiment. Iâm going to lose 40 pounds. Iâm going to document my successes and failures here. Iâm going to look at how people treat me today, while Iâm losing, and when I reach my goal.

âOink,â my ass.