Chicken Soup for the Dieter's Soul (11 page)

I won’t say that I never get a sudden urge for sweets (or that I never indulge just a tiny bit), but I realize now how amazing the human body is and to give it any less than the wholesome things it deserves is truly only cheating yourself.

Jessica Blaire

A Skinny By-Product

I
bought a talking refrigerator that said “Oink”

every time I opened the door. It made me hungry
for pork chops.

Marie Mott

Dr. Choi is a wonderful doctor, but she says bad things. Two of her words punched me in the repository of my ill-conceived eating habits. “Cholesterol” and “pre-diabetes” aren’t exactly the reassuring words that I wanted to hear. They deflated my feeling of invincibility.

The day that she delivered the cholesterol message, she had another word that I wouldn’t vote for. She said “oatmeal.” I said “raisin bran.” She said “oatmeal.” I said “shredded wheat.” She said “oatmeal.” I said “Wheatina.” She said “oatmeal.” My grasping response to her final reiteration of the oatmeal decree was “but oatmeal has the consistency of snot.” With that said I went home with a variety pack of wallpaper paste, better known as oatmeal. I eventually settled on raisin, date and walnut and have since come to like it. That meant the end of an English muffin with a generous layer of butter, a mountain of peanut butter and a pool of grape jelly. Breakfast was to be a new experience.

Had I not seen an almost instant weight loss, I would have returned to my gooey culinary wonderland. The day that Dr. Choi delivered the devastating cholesterol message, I weighed in at 228 pounds. A few months later my six-foot frame was carrying a mere 210 pounds. Surprisingly, I hadn’t been hungry. The only change in my eating habits was my breakfast. Who would have thought that an English muffin with a few upgrades would weigh eighteen pounds?

This past February “pre-diabetes” was Dr. Choi’s word for the day. I would have preferred “psoriasis” or even “pneumonia.” As before she had a one-track mind and insisted on repeating pre-diabetes until it became part of my vocabulary. She set me up with a hospital lecture on the subject. I decided that I didn’t know enough about this ailment to tamper with my diet until after the lecture. This stalling action gave me another three weeks of butter pecan ice cream floating knee-deep in maple syrup and one last apple pie—every piece topped with succulent vanilla ice cream.

On the first of March I held a funeral service for raw sugar and stocked up on my choice of sugar substitutes. I weighed myself on the day that sugar died, 208 lbs. The only other dietary change was switching from white bread to dark bread. Today is August 27 and I’ve weighed a mere 180 pounds for over a month. I didn’t change the
quantity
that I eat; I only changed
what
I eat, and I’m not hungry.

My wife, Linda, jokingly referred to me as her “Chubby Hubby” until my ribs made a reappearance following a thirty-year absence. My cholesterol is under control, but the jury is still out on my pre-diabetic condition. Should that condition need further attention, I’ll deal with my almost-daily potato chip and dry-roasted peanut habit. I realize that addressing health issues after the fact isn’t the best way to eat. For now, however, I’m content to lose weight on the lousy diagnosis installment plan. Giving up one special food at a time is easier than trying to do them all at the same time. While my method is not approved by the American Medical Association, it seems to work better for me than any other technique that I’ve tried.

I’ve lost forty-eight pounds with simple changes that have nothing to do with starvation or fasting. This technique might not work for everyone, but it did wonders for me because I am, and always have been, a light eater. My problem was that since I discovered Snicker bars and high-octane Coke and Pepsi, I relied on multiple vitamins to balance my diet. One disease modification at a time, I’m getting back on track and becoming the healthy man that God intended me to be. A note of caution to stockholders in either Pringles or Planters corporations: your profit margins might be affected by this visit.

Ed VanDeMark

My Own Way

I
n the midst of movement and chaos, keep
stillness inside of you.

Deepak Chopra

I am blessed with beautiful big eyes, a full mouth, long legs, soft hair and eyebrows that get compliments from every waxer I’ve been to. My breasts aren’t large, but with the right bra they can be ample enough. My hips aren’t slim, but they support me and held up my ten-pound baby when he was in the womb. My legs are no longer slender, but they are filled with muscle gained from daily walks and exercise. And then there’s my stomach, my paunch as I call it, the bane of my existence, partly caused by my excessive sugar consumption, partly by heredity. I am beautiful, though, and sexy in my own way. I am athletic, but by no means a tiny woman. I am finding my way to peace with myself.

I began swimming when I was six years old. I took to it immediately and continued to compete until graduating high school. I was a record-breaker in my school and a state championship competitor. I loved every second of it. And then I graduated, and fear came into me about so many things in life. I was resisting everything and everyone. I was scared and angry at the world and, as usually happens, took it out more on myself than on others. One way I did this was by robbing myself of my innate pleasure of the water. I still taught swimming and coached for awhile, but I stuck to a complaint of shoulder injury and never swam again.

At first it was easy to maintain my body, but as I got older and life settled down and a baby was born, I lost who I was in many senses. I began exercising again. I focused mostly on walking, as long walks give me the solitude and quiet that enables my best thinking and allows me to work out things in my life. But I knew I needed more than just that. I listened to the media and popular views and took my cue from them.

First I tried yoga and later Pilates. I loved them both for the stretches that my body needed and the calming focus, but I just couldn’t attach myself to them as some people do. I tried aerobic classes. I heard how they are great for getting your heart rate up and getting you into shape, so it had to be the right thing to do. But not for me. I felt like I was an awkward thirteen-year-old again, back at the school dance without a date. I have no rhythm, and no matter how long I stuck out the classes, I just felt like I was an enormously tall and lumbering she-male stomping across the back of the room. So I dropped that. Then I headed into the gym and tried the wonderful EFX machines (it’s like cross-country skiing on a slope). I loved these. I stuck with it for almost a year and loved to feel the sweat pouring off and the knowledge that I was accomplishing something.

But as time went on, I felt like a hamster in a wheel. Round and round I’d go with ten televisions blasting me with images and music playing overhead and everyone else there looking tiny and cute with darling exercise clothes on looking at each other! I couldn’t take it. I knew I was going to stop that as well. None of it was me. None of it fit, even though it was what was supposed to work. Everyone else seemed to be finding their thing, the thing that made them feel good, that they stuck to, that made them powerful. I wanted mine too, and I knew what it was.

One morning I got up and decided that this was it; I was headed back to the pool and no shoulder injury was going to stop me. If I had to, I would spend the entire time kicking. And in the beginning that’s what I did. I kicked a lot, swam a little. Then swam some more. Then some more. Now I can’t wait to get into that pool. I feel like I’ve come home. This is what works for me, for my body, for my personality, for my emotions. It’s new to think of exercise in those terms, but it’s true. We feel things when we move our bodies. The key is listening to those feelings and finding the thing that brings peace and power into your body.

I will never be a tiny woman, and I’m fine with that now, more fine with it than I’ve ever been before. My weight on the scale doesn’t change much, but the tightening of my body is apparent to everyone. I feel strong. I feel capable. I feel powerful in my own skin. Through these feelings I can see and know my own beauty and sexiness. I am no longer forcing my body into positions or activities that feel just that—forced. I am going with the flow of what works for me. When I swim, I feel better, healthier and more proud of myself. That is what exercise needs to be about. Those feelings are what will keep you coming back, even on the days when you don’t want to.

I experimented, tried things on and felt how they fit. But as with everything in life, I had to listen to myself, listen to my own body; it tells me where it needs to be. When you find that place that feels right, stay there, love it, work in it, and allow the feelings of strength and power to be yours.

Colleen Kappeler

“He didn’t exactly call me overweight, but he keeps trying to stick refrigerator magnets on me!”

Reprinted by permission of Dan Rosanditch.

Weight-Loss Wisdom from a Toddler

M
uch may be learned about any society
by studying the behavior and accepted ideas of
its children.

Robertson Davies

It’s no fun carrying around the “baby weight” as your child ages. I knew if I didn’t make some changes soon I would still have those extra pounds when my son started school. But when I decided to lose thirty pounds, I didn’t do it alone. I had help from meeting leaders, my husband and my own personal miniguru, the toddler. In my weight-loss journey, I found I learned a lot just by observing him.

My son doesn’t use a stair-climber, lift weights or own a treadmill. He finds simpler ways to get the job done. He runs—an empty field or backyard is perfect. If he climbs stairs, they’re real ones and not the kind found in a gym.

The lesson: Use what you have. Go up and down the stairs at your local community center, museum or aquarium with your child. I guarantee you’ll know you’ve worked out. That is, if you can get out of bed the next day. If your child has a favorite musical act (Wiggles or Laurie Berkner, anyone?) pop in a video and dance along. You’ll eat up some of that vast supply of energy while you burn calories, and you’ll both have fun doing it.

The other day, we rode our bikes as a family through our neighborhood and ended up at a local park, where we discovered a trail off the beaten track. My son took a minute to warm up to it, but once he did, he delighted in exploring. Despite our exhaustion from pedaling our bicycles in the Florida heat, his enthusiasm was contagious. We deviated from our plan and stayed awhile longer.

Lots of workout advice extols the virtues of mini-workouts. While the plan may be meant to allow busy parents a way to get a workout in, they also seem tailor-made for a youngster. I circuit train—kid-style. My son’s program on a recent afternoon involved bouncing in his bounce house, traveling over to his wading pool for a few quick full-body splashes and then finishing off with laps around the backyard.

Something else I’ve learned from the little one is that a little bit of food goes a long way. My son will eat small portions of food and stop when he’s full. Then, no matter how much you prod, plead or insist, not one more bite will pass through his lips. Not even if it’s his absolute favorite food. He savors what he truly enjoys and doesn’t bother finishing what doesn’t appeal to him. He only eats when he’s hungry—you can be sure he’ll let you know when that happens! And he doesn’t linger over meals; twenty-five minutes is a long time for him to spend eating. When he has finished, it’s on to the next adventure.

My tiny mentor is always ready to try something new. Who knew he would enjoy food like avocados or cucumbers, or that the highlight of his day would be a bicycle ride? Getting out of a rut is good for all of us—adults and children alike. Sometimes you don’t have to look very far to find a new perspective on diet and exercise. Just spend a little time with the child in your life for inspiration and motivation.

Tricia Finch

10 Tricks to Help You Stay on Your Diet

Tell everyone you know you are on a diet.
Ask them to help you behave. Ask them to work with you, for instance, when choosing a restaurant or activity. There will be places where you will not find appropriate food on the menu, and this can help you avoid them. With a team supporting your effort, you will be more apt to stay on your diet. You will want to lose weight because you won’t want to let them down or embarrass yourself.