My Turn

This is me, trying the "lift yourself up" activity at the Boston Children's Museum.

There was a time that I would not even consider doing something like that. I would have been too self-conscious to try and lift my bulk. I would not want other people looking at me and making snide remarks or jokes. But...my daughter asked me to. She saw her Daddy try it, and then said "it's Mommy's turn! Your turn now, right Mommy?"

I didn't even hesitate.  There was no way I was going to say no to her.  Not for this.  I never want to say to her "Mommy's too big to do this, sweetie."  I want her to know anyone, of any size, can do anything.

I actually wanted to see if I could do it. I got in the chair, worried for one moment about the seat belt fitting (it did just enough), and I got the chair up somewhat. I didn't make it all the way up to the top.

I know there will be a time we'll visit there, and I will lift myself up to the top.  I have no doubt in my mind.  I've been getting stronger with my workouts.  I can now go from a folded position and jump back into a push-up position.  I can do pushups!

I didn't think that the Biggest Loser DVDs and my 2-mile walks around the Common were doing more than maintaining for me.  But clothes are fitting looser.  My strength and flexibility are improving.  I am improving.

White Coat Syndrome, or why Fat Folks hate the Doctor

In my sophomore year of high school, I came down with mono.  My parents weren't sure it was mono at first, thinking I was being a usual lazy oversleeping teenager.  So my Mom took me to the pediatrician.  During the exam, the nurse decided to talk to me about my weight, even giving me a slip of paper with the title of Covert Bailey's bestseller "Fit or Fat?" for me to read.  I was in there for swollen glands, swollen spleen, stemming from a virus, and here I was being lectured about my weight.

This was the first, but not the last, of many, many encounters of inappropriate conversations about my weight challenges by the medical profession. I hadn't thought about that situation until just now, when I was trying to remember the first time I was fat-shamed in an doctor's office.

I want to make sure I'm clear on how I feel about this issue, as I am sure that this will raise a lot of discussion and arguments.  Yes, you should talk with a doctor about your weight, if you feel it is a problem for you.  Yes, your doctor should be able to bring it up as a medical concern as your primary care physician.  However, I feel there is a time and a place for this, and currently that is not happening.  Because of this, way too many of my chubby kin avoid whitecoats, and are letting other major health issues get the best of them.

One day in the fall of the late 90's, I woke up not feeling right.  I made it into work, not realizing I couldn't talk until I opened my mouth to say good morning to my boss.  What came out was something that sounded like Muppets underwater.  I had to have a coworker call and make an appointment for me with my primary care physician.  When I got to the office, the first thing they did?  Put me on the scale.  I ended up having life-threatening tonsilitis (I had tonsils that would swell to the point they almost blocked my airways).  Instead, I got the "lose weight" lecture from a nurse until the doctor saw me and realized my situation.

I avoided doctors and getting physicals for the majority of my 20s.  I didn't want to hear the lecture about my obesity.  I knew I was fat, and I knew I was at risk for other health conditions because of it.   Knowing that every other health concern I had would be overlooked because of my fat left me using CVS for my ailments.

In my 30s, I got more confident in my size and rights as a patient, if I wasn't in the office for a physical exam, I would refuse to get on the scale.  I did get some confrontation, but I was insistent that my weight did _not_ have anything to do with my fever of 103.

I had some gynecological issues in my early 30s.  I went to a Gynecologist who treated me with condescension and disbelief of my issues.  Whenever I called to discuss my problems, he would threaten me with putting me on birth control to stop getting my period, like a cancer patient, is that what I wanted?  I finally snapped at him, telling him no, I'd like him to treat me like a human being with things I know aren't normal for my body.   He did a uterine biopsy on me a)without warning me or b)giving me any pain relief.  I am not sure this was weight-related treatment, but it was his attitude that led me to one of the worst exams I've ever had.

After this horrid experience, I decided to go with a new GYN that a friend recommended.  This friend was also on the plus-size side, so I figured she would be a safe bet as doctor's go.  After getting the usual pre-checkup stuff done, the doctor walked in, and with barely and introduction, launched into telling me I needed weight loss surgery.  I was floored.  She told me that at my height, I should be somewhere around 110 pounds, and seeing that I was nowhere near that, surgery was my only option.  When I told her that i had never dieted or had a regular exercise regime, and I'd like to try that route first,  she told me flat out, "I don't think that would ever work for you."  She then proceeded to give me an internal exam that to this day...I felt violated by, with her rudeness and coldness.  She then told me that my issues would only be solved with scarring procedures, or a hysterectomy. Either way, children would never be in my future.

After I spent a day balled up on the couch bawling my eyes out, the next day, I got up, and I worked out.  I got a nutritionist who taught me about portion control and healthy eating.  In about a year and a half's time, I lost about 50 pounds.  More importantly, I got HEALTHY. 

When I was pregnant with my first child (something the evil gyno said would NEVER happen...HA!), I was worried about going to the OB and getting the "talk."  I knew that there were different guidelines for obese pregnant women.  However, I never was scolded or lectured to during the pregnancy.  The OB knew I was doing prenatal yoga and walking when I could, and she said "different studies come out all the time about how much you should gain.  As long as you're doing fine, I'm not worried."  I gained the average weight for a pregnancy, and had a healthy baby girl.


This OB became the total OPPOSITE with my second pregnancy.  As I wrote about in this CC entry,  she was relentess in harassing me about my weight.  Even though I was lighter and healthier in this pregnancy.  She didn't care.  She was dismissive, and wouldn't believe me when I assured her I was making healthy choices.  Again, I had a healthy baby boy, no thanks to the stress she added to my pregnancy.

Now here I am today.  A month ago, I had my first physical in about four years (pregnancies, not fear, kept me from them).  I got on the scale, saw the number.  As the doc looked at my charts online, I saw the words MORBIDLY OBESE screaming from the monitor.  She asked me about my overall health, my activity, my lifestyle.  I kept waiting for the lecture, it never came.  At the end of the exam, as she as leaving, I said to her, "Doctor, I just want to thank you for not bringing up or lecturing me about my weight.  I know that it is a concern and that I am working on it, and I was prepared to tell you all that.  Thank you for treating me like a human being."  She came back over to me, put her hand on my arm and said, "You told me all that you're doing for your health.  Why am I going to lecture you on stuff you already have a handle on.  You are in great health for your age, and you are raising two little ones that are your first priority.  You're doing what you can, and that's all I can ask of my patients. "  I would be lying if I didnt say that I cried with joy on the way home.

That's right.  I cried because a doctor treated me the way we should be expected to be treated by another human being, even more so by those who want to help us stay healthy and current customers; with respect.


I'm writing this entry because recently a friend asked for doctor recommendations on FB, and I knew, through the unwritten understanding between people of size, to make sure when I made recommendations, to state they were size-friendly.  I shouldn't have to DO THAT.  We should have the expectation that people who in a profession that deals with all walks of life, should have tact.

Instead, I read articles like this one.  I read articles where doctors don't want to treat overweight patients because it raises their insurance rates.  Or I read blogs and horror stories of how overweight people aren't treated for medical issues because doctors can't look past the fat.

As I mentioned.  There is a time and a place to have the weight discussion.  Doctors need to be trained better on how to handle that.  Stop treating patients like children.  As patients, we need to be more assertive, and stand up for ourselves.  They're our bodies, no one else is going to care about it more than you!

Balance

After a week of the "30-Day Shred," I could not return that DVD to the library fast enough.  I did not want a workout that made me feel defeatist and a loser from the starting gate.  That's not how my motivation works.  I need something that I can DO at least 75-90% of, and work on getting to the 100%, and then move on from there.


I decided on some more "Biggest Loser" brand DVDs.  Not because I've ever really watched the show, but reading reviews about the workouts described exactly what I'm looking for; a workout I can customize, and build up, without having to buy more DVDs right away, or a whole workout plan.  Since they've been out for a few years, I was able to get both a  cardio and a strength DVD used for about ten bucks

Both these DVDs have customizing options, another feature that appealed to me.  You select from Warmup, Level One, Two, Three, and Cool down/Stretch.  You also can select to do the workouts with or without the trainer.   What, I don't have to face Jillian again if I don't want to?  BRING IT!

I started with this one as something to do on my non-running days.  I was a little apprehensive since I would be facing my nemesis Jillian again.   I'm starting to think she has a Jekyll-Hyde personality disorder.  On this DVD, she was nice, helpful, and forgiving if you couldn't complete the task.  She even called one of the BL contestants (who are doing the workout with you) "Poodle!"  I was able to do complete Level One workout, and I felt like I got a good workout in, but did not collapse into a pool of tears thinking I sucked.

On the mornings I just can't bring myself to get out running (which is becoming more and more common - more on that later), I have been using this DVD.  Bob the Trainer is so NICE!  He proves you can be motiviational without humilating someone!  He's also totally okay that you may not be able to do everything right away, and they have examples of getting the job done without breaking something.  I love that in 30 minutes I am sweating, breathing heavy, and know I got a GOOD workout.  The yoga stretching cooldown is also great. I miss my yoga, and getting a little bit at the end of this DVD is a treat.

Both these videos have the Biggest Loser contestants performing the workouts with you.  They're all at different levels, from having a winner on there, to folks about halfway through the season (I'm guessing).  I will say using these DVDs has piqued my curiosity in watching the show.

...until I read this tell-all article about being a contestant on the show.    This made me sad.  I'm not surprised about the revelations about behind-the scenes, but it's stuff like this that builds up expectations in folks who then get frustrated when they haven't lost a gazillion pounds in three days.

I think that's why I have not been a religious viewer of the show.  I would watch it, and then subconsciously set expectations on  myself to have the same results as those on the BL Campus.  Then I'd feel sorry for myself being such a failure, and say the heck with it and just stop exercising all together.

That's NOT what I want to be about.  Maybe I'll watch it and blog about it, and how you could translate what they're doing into Real Life, where sometimes soothing your one-year old's cries is more important than the 30 minute sculpt video.   Where sometimes you can have that piece of cheesecake...just not every night that week.
 

Unflappable!

Welcome to the Thunderdome.

Now that the boy has started to sleep through the night, I've been able to get into more of a routine for working out.  For running, I'm using the Hal Higdon Training for 5k, Novice Level.  I'm currently at week one, running for 1.5 miles.  The first day was challenging and I walked a little bit, but the past two runs I've actually run the whole thing.  This morning, I felt great the whole time.

One of my biggest challenges is my inner critic.  Sometimes it manifests itself in the form of my shadow, which I've talked about in this blog.  Monday morning on my run, it tried to taunt me: "Look at how SLOOOW you're going.  Do you REALLY think you're running?"  This time, though, before I could let it get to me and depress me into walking, I said back, "Hey, if I'm casting a shadow, it means I'm still upright!" I laughed about that the rest of the run.  I'm guessing it's a good thing I go early in the morning so no one can see a crazy fat girl laughing while running...that has to be a sign of the apocalypse, right?

Speaking of the end of the world...I won't lie.  I might have prayed for death yesterday morning.  For my alternate days' workout, I've decided to try Jillian Michaels' 30 Day Shred.  I've heard great things about it from friends and family, and I could check it out of our library for three weeks.  Yesterday I got up, dressed, grabbed my weights, and turned on the DVD.

Jillian Michaels does NOT mess around.  From warmup to cool down you DO NOT STOP.  There is no rest during the workout.  It is set up like a circut, mixed cardio and strength workouts.  The strength parts were challenging, but I could keep up.  The cardio sections were tough, and there were a few times I did stop, and I SWEAR Jillian could see me through the TV screen, because whenever I stopped to catch my breath, she would say "I know it's tough but DO NOT STOP!"  ...I may have gasped a few curse words at her in return. 

One of the cardio workouts is jumping jacks, which I haven't done since high school.  I was afraid to do them in the house at first, because I expected the house to shake when I jumped up and down.  When that didn't happen, I kept going.  The second circuit of jumping jacks, I heard this...flapping noise.  With horror, I realized: that was me.  It was my stomach flapping with my jumping.  

I wasn't sure if I was going to share that not-so-pretty moment, but this is what Chasing Chubby is about.  Working out is NOT supposed to be pretty.  It's sweaty and smelly, and now loud and flappy.

It's all worth it.  I'm a little sore from the 30-Day Shred, but this morning I put on a pair of pants that the size did not start with a "2" for the first time since getting pregnant with the boy.  I'll totally be flapping away again tomorrow.

JP Morgan Chase Challenge - 7/12/12

(Me crossing the finish line)

I first attempted the Challenge in 2007 (see the post about it here).  I had been going to the gym, doing a cardio regime, but not running.  I walked the whole thing, and the experience was miserable.  I started at the end of the pack, so by the time I crossed the start line (there's about 10,000 entrants to this race), the winner was already turning the corner to finish.  Walkers gave up and would cut across the street (the course was up and back Comm Ave), or just give up completely.  By the time I got into Kenmore Square, I was dead last.  Water tables had packed up and left.  The ambulance followed me all the way to the finish line.  But, I made it across the finish line.  I was determined to run it the next time.

Then there were obstacles.  Miscarriages.  Pregnancies.  Babies.  Finally, five years later, I was ready to try again.

I would love to write I trained my ass off, and ran the whole 3.5 miles and fulfilled my promise.  Part of the Chasing Chubby experience is that not everything is what you want it to be, but you need to celebrate it anyway.

Trying to train with babies in your life is hard.  If you are planning on getting up at 5 AM to run, the baby doesn't know that when they wake up screaming at 2:30 and keep you up until 4.  There's more sickness with kids, too, so if you're sick there's no running.

Most of the time, I was lucky if I got out twice a week to run.  Even then, I wasn't running more than a mile solid.  The week before the race I was up in Maine, my runs weren't more than a mile, and with the heat and humidity I was walking as well as running.  I started to panic about the Challenge, and contemplated dropping out because I couldn't fulfill my goal of running the whole thing.

The Monday before the race, I realized that giving up because of that would be a piss-poor reason to drop out of the race.  That morning I decided to try and run three miles; the farthest I'd gone since having my son.  I got out there, and did a run/walk combo that I accomplished without difficulty.  I finished the three miles in under an hour.  That's how I would do the challenge: walking and running.

The day of the race, I worked out my plan.  I brought up a map of the race course, and plotted out half-mile intervals where I would switch from walking to running.  I would be running two miles, and walking one and a half.  I went through the course on Google Maps streetview so I wouldn't panic on the course on where to switch.  Finally, as I geared up for the race, I wrote the plan on my arm:

I was ready.

This time, I didn't line up at the back of the pack with the walkers; I learned my lesson last time.  Even so, when the gun went off it took a good five minutes to cross the start line on Charles Street, and that was walking.  It wasn't until we turned onto Beacon the pace picked up.  By the time we hit Arlington there was room to start jogging, FINALLY!

I did great up to my first checkpoint at Berkeley.  I dropped to a walk even though my race-brain wanted to GO! GO! GO!  I knew better from experience.  If I wanted to cross the finish line running, I needed to be consistent and stick with the plan.

I hit Fairfield, and started running again.  At the one-mile water table, my best friend Rebecca and her daughter were waiting to hand me refreshment.  Rebecca cheered me on as I kept going. I was still feeling good when I got to the overpass that goes under Mass Ave.  I ran down it, but decided to walk back up to conserve energy.  This brought me to Charlesgate, which was my walking part anyway.  At the 1.5 mile mark, there was water, but whole bottles.  I did not want to chug, so I was taking a mouthful and in the most un-ladylike way spitting it out.

After turning around in Kenmore Square (Hello, Fenway!), I picked up the pace again.  Now I was starting to feel some exhaustion.  Jogging to Exeter felt daunting, so I decided to now adopt a new plan: ran when I felt I could do it, walk when I needed to rest.  I was running when I passed Rebecca and her daughter again (the water station moved across to get the runners coming back), and I thankfully got more water and encouragement.  I kept going.

At Arlington, I knew it was the home stretch.  I moved back into a running mode.  I turned onto Boylston.  It was a little congested with  walkers and tourists, so I slowed back down.  Then I hit Charles Street.  This was it; I took a deep breath, and hit it.  I crossed the finish line running.  I was done!

I was extremely proud of myself. I went out with some coworkers, got home, and slept feeling like a rock star.

The next day, I got to work, hung my bib up (now my fourth in a growing collection), and looked up my stats from the race to see how I had improved in four years.

2007: 1:04:37
2012: 1:04:37

The exact same time. Down to the SECOND.


The pride inside deflated.  How did I perform exactly the same when I added running this time around?  I started looking for anomalies.  I checked the app I use on my iPhone to look at my stats.  Anything to prove to me I did better, that I'm improving.

At the end of the day, none of those numbers are going to do it.  I need to hold on to that sense of pride and accomplishment I felt on both the nights in '07 and '12.  I crossed a finish line.  It might not have been a PR-setting race, but it's been a race that is part of who I am as a runner.

I will do the race again, and I'll cross the finish line again, no matter how I get there.

The Chase Begins Again

This happy face was my passenger for the last of my running in 2011. Now, six months after he entered the world, I'm ready to get back out there and run for my life.

I stopped running around halfway through my pregnancy, mostly all my baby business was making breathing difficult (having a fetus on your lungs can do that). Even after the running stopped, I kept up exercising. I alternated walking and prenatal yoga during the week. I kept at it up until my beautiful boy entered the world.

And then...I needed to recover and rest. I had all ideals of being back on the road before the next Jingle Bell Run for December '11, but I didn't take into account things like middle of the night feedings, and trying to cram milk-full breasts into sports bras (answer:no). So I did what I'm sure doctors wouldn't reccommend: I gave myself time to adjust. I didn't beat myself up for not exercising. When I could, I would take the kids on walks during the day.

Right around when the baby was six months old, I felt the itch. The weather was unseasonably warm and on my commute home I saw the other runners out there. I'm ready, I thought to myself.

I had a few false starts. With children, you can't always guarantee that you'll get a full night's sleep, or a virus will attack the household. Then I found myself fighting the inner critic, finding any excuse not to go out (I couldn't find the right playlist; I couldn't find my equipment for the road). Finally in the middle of March, I was ready to go. I set my running clothes out the night before, and got to bed. Of course, the boy had other plans, and I did not get out that next morning. I sat at work that day, disappointed. I got home, and just as I was about to start dinner, I turned to my husband.

"Can you handle this," I asked. "I need to get out and run." Since he's also a runner, and been seeing me struggle with my return, he took my place in the kitchen without hesitation. I got dressed, grabbed my iPod, and out the door.

That's how I finished Week, 1, Day 1 of the Couch to 5K running program. I'm now on Week 3, after an interruption by colds and conjuncitivits. I'm still running.

Look at that face. How can I not run to stay healthy for that face?