Weigh-in Wednesday #39 & #40 - The agony & the ecstasy

Promptly following my knee injury, I had a rest week....which is pretty much exactly like an active rest week, only without the active.  Seriously?  

MIJO Sport ninjas, Mayor Dean Fortin, and lil' ol' me.

But, the City of Victoria is opening the adult playground in Central Park...I have to go to that!  And, my buddy the mayor is going to be there!  

The one good thing about being injured is that I get to get up, have a shower, wash my hair, do my hair, put on some make-up, and wear real people clothes that don't contain 7% spandex!  

Though I'd been using crutches since the night before, I decided to drag my bum leg behind me to the Crystal Pool & Fitness Centre.  Man, I thought I had big legs before but this was ridiculous.  Holy moley was my leg ever swollen; from hip to toes, my leg felt like it had been replaced by a log.  Still, I was able attend the grand opening of the 16-piece outdoor exercise circuit in Central Park, howbeit I was not able to participate in the orientation provided by MIJO Sport ninjas Michelle & Jonathan Carpenter.  I could, however, pose behind said equipment with them and Mayor Dean Fortin.

How am I going to deal with the pain, swelling, Frankenstein-like walking, constant icing, occasional use of crutches, and the mental anguish that comes from gaining a pound on the Weigh-in Wednesday immediately following the injury?  Well, I shoulda and coulda buckled down and realised that I may need to adjust my diet to account for the prescribed cessation of training.  Oh, coulda, woulda, shoulda!

Before wine.

Starting weight:  292.1

1st weigh-in:  286.8
2nd weigh-in:  280.1
3rd weigh-in:  276.4
4th weigh-in:  274.1
5th weigh-in:  270.6
6th weigh-in:  266.2
7th weigh-in:  262
8th weigh-in:  261.4
9th weigh-in:  257.7
10th weigh-in 251.4
11th weigh-in 247.3
12th weigh-in 243.6
13th weigh-in 241.7
14th weigh-in 235.4
15th weigh-in 235.4
16th weigh-in 227.7
17th weigh-in 223.5
18th weigh-in 223.5
19th weigh-in 221.6

Drinking wine and getting played.

 
20th weigh-in 221.6
21st weigh-in 215.6
22nd weigh-in 213.2
23rd weigh-in 207.9
24th weigh-in 206.6
25th weigh-in 200.1
26th weigh-in 199.7
27th weigh-in 197
28th weigh-in 191.3
29th weigh-in 189.9
30th weigh-in 180.7
31st weigh-in 183.4
32nd weigh-in 186.4
33rd weigh-in 186.3
34th weigh-in 174.8
35th weigh-in 174.8
36th weigh-in 170.1
37th weigh-in 169 
38th weigh-in 170.2

39th weigh-in 174.7...oh dear.

Obviously, I did not adjust my diet...nor did I make any concessions.  I didn't make good choices.  No wait, let me rephrase that...I chose to go hang out with awesome friends on Friday night, which was a great decision.  Rachel and my crafty plot to go see Mickey Avalon at a club after having polished off a significant amount of wine?  Possibly not the wisest idea in the world, but did we ever have fun.  Once we convinced the boys, we hopped in a cab and headed for town...of course, I totally forgot that I had no ID on me at all.  I had to cajole the bouncer into letting me into the club by cleverly pointing out my crow's-feet, "Look, there's no way that I am 18, right?"  Which, worked!  Really?  We came, we saw, we conquered the club and...1...2...3...4 got our booties on the dance floor.

Saturday was a reunion of sorts with my neighbour from Simon Fraser University residence Josée and Melody...one of Jo's friends turned our friend.  Why is it that when I hang out with people from uni, I turn into a university student?  Well, I don't actually...I wish...then I wouldn't be able to point out the wrinkles around my eyes and get into clubs without identification.  We decided to be all grown up and have some Prosecco to start the evening with some appies served in fancy dishes...ooohhh....awww...and of course no one moved into the living room to fully enjoy the experience.  No, we all hung out in the kitchen, as you do.  Lovely, leather couches in the living room, elegant lighting, coasters all the way from Paris and Spain and a Skyfallesque arrangement of sterling silver candlesticks, deer antlers, a smudging bundle of sage in an antique tray on the coffee table...and everyone stays put around the kitchen island.  Though there were pumpkins and tulips at that, and as we live in a loft you could see the livingroom.  It's strange how Prosecco turns into Syrah, Syrah to Malbec, Malbec to Cabernet...and before you know it, we all had purple teeth and tongues and were playing ridiculous videos on YouTube.  We narrowly avoided Glee karaoke, having settled on sharing ridiculous clips from YouTube.  Please enjoy this...we did:

After much dancing, laughing, and singing along to every novelty song known to humankind we called it a night, at 2 AM in the morning.  And this is what they don't tell you when you're 38...you cannot party like an 18 year old, or a university kid...because the next day I woke up like death warmed over.  And not because of the drinking, though that may have helped, but because of a lack of sleep.  Still, I was thrilled with the prospect of reinventing Thanksgiving dinner into a healthy gratitude filled feast!  Later Stéffi and I went to the grocery store and stocked up on golden and red beets, carrots, celeriac, sweet potatoes, shallots, chicken, and cranberry sauce...turns out if you put sage on chicken...POOF!  Thanksgiving.  The cranberry sauce helped too.

So partying, feasting, and no exercise all week meant that on Wednesday,  October 16th...I weighed in at 174.7 pounds.  That's another gain...and a 4.5 pound gain too, but for some crazy reason I was okay with it.  Awww...I'm growing up.  I guess I just realised that I had an injury, I ate what I would normally have eaten, but didn't exercise a lot of it away.  And in the grand scheme of things, what's a 4.5 pound gain?

The next week, I buckled down with my diet, I started exercising daily again, and on weigh-in Wednesday #40:

40th weigh-in 166.4

That would be an 8.5 pound loss.  See what happens when you eat healthily and exercise?  If only it were that easy all the time.  I secretly think that at least 8 pounds of that loss was due to a reduction in fluid retention in my sprained knee log leg.  Though, I have to say, as much as I enjoy my rest weeks, I sure was happy to hop back onto the cardio equipment.  Even if I had a little cry the first time I tried the recumbent bike...my log leg was not exactly bendy.  Luckily, the ninja swooped in and asked me why I was on the bench and not on the bike.  When I told him I couldn't do it, he told me I could.  And if he says I can do something, I can.  I trust him.  Of course there was pain, but I got used to it...and gradually it got easier throughout the week.  Also, he introduced me to the rowing machine.  It kicks my ass, but I love it.  And isn't that the point of cardio?  It's been a while since I've had to run to the bathroom for fear of throwing up all over myself...kinda want that feeling back.  Yes, I'm a weirdo.

Swashbuckling Suzie and the Pender Pirates

After 3 months of eating right and exercising (and when I say exercising, I mean ninja training) it is my week of "active rest."  Every now and then, I indulge in what I like to call "inactive rest,"  so when Michelle (my birth-mom) invited me to Poet's Cove Resort & Spa on Pender Island for a relaxing weekend...I envisioned myself lounging on a lily pad drinking sparkling wine and enjoying the view of the ocean in the sunshine.  I was half right.

Big city girl, island bound.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Southern Gulf Islands, Pender is located in the Gulf of Georgia nestled in between Saltspring and Saturna...if you've taken the ferry to Vancouver from Victoria or vice versa, you've passed it.  It is approximately 34 square kilometres, and has a population of around 2500 full-time islanders.  Before this starts sounding like a 5th grade geography project, Pender Island to me is about getting away from the city and chilling out in one of the best backyards in the world.  And acting, and sometimes dressing like a pirate.

Queen of Cumberland - Otter Bay

Resort, sounds good.  Spa, fine with me.  Gourmet food and drink, ACK!  I was very much looking forward to spending time with Michelle and enjoying the many amenities that Poet's Cove offers, especially the spa treatments that she sprung for, but the food became an issue simply because it's, well, food...and I'm a fat girl trying to get healthy.  What I have yet to learn from my 3 months of health and fitness is to let go of the anxiety that I feel when I know that I will have to give up some control.  I just need to make good choices, and maybe not indulge in the bread and butter that will be put on the table, right?  Wine, well...I know there will be wine, I have accounted for that already.  In fact, I brought a bottle of prosecco and a granacha...just in case.  Ha!

Recycle or die!

In the past, I would celebrate a good loss with meal out or a bag of baked chips, but my mindset has changed...at present, I celebrate fewer pounds by buying some new exercise pants or a novelty t-shirt.  I now know that a weekend in the lap of luxury means: hold fast to your new ways.  Stay the course, don't let go.  Avast! (See, I told you that Pender = Pirate to me).

So off I set on the tide to a not-so-distant land, where the sirens of temptation would sing softly to me.  Hold to the code.  

Michelle met me at Otter Bay and we took land transportation from there, just as I had gotten my sea-legs.  Pender Island is the keeper of many secrets, one

Should have bought this for Vicky Voodoo!

such place is the Recycle Depot which is a treasure trove of vintage junk.  Odds and ends that may not be interesting to the average landlubber, but this pirate often picks through the "Free Store" for ancient mason jars and various medicine bottles.  Then there's the Nu-to-Yu where all your dreams and nightmares can come true.  Usually, second hand stores are slim pickings...but not this one.  There are always things that have been overlooked by islanders, for example, I couldn't resist a Benihana Geisha mug for 50 cents.  And, in true pirate fashion, I practiced a little stealth photography and snapped some pictures of the more impressive scary dollies.  Then home to Schooner Cottage to pick up supplies before our journey to Poet's Cove on the south island.

Our trek through the countryside didn't take very long, in fact, I think it took roughly 20 minutes to

Poet's Cove Resort & Spa

get from Razor Point to the resort.  The scenery was impressive as it always is in British Columbia, we saw ravens, eagles, and deer along the way - Pender Island wilderness safari complete.  Our room wasn't ready, so we headed to the spa directly.  As a big girl, I have only ever had 1 massage in my life (and that was only a month ago when Del was in town), this time I knew what to expect.  Michelle and I got a tour of the facility before we were shown into the change room - there's even a steam cave in there!  Susurrus Spa didn't disappoint, I even fit into the robe that was provided for me...added bonus!  My masseause was a tiny woman, but could she ever dig deep.  Shelley gave me the best massage - I felt every knot that she worked out disappear.  I had told her about my workout regimen, but I was not expecting the release that came with deep tissue massage.  Blissed out beyond belief, Michelle and I met up again in the cloakroom to redress...and on to our pedicures.

The view from our room...note the hot tub!

The pedicure area was slightly less ethereal and more pragmatic, though there were leather chairs and jacuzzi jetted tubs for our tootsies.  Before we got started, Michi and I picked out our colours...I chose a bright 'n' shiny turquoise because that's how I roll, she chose a colour called "Laughing in Pink" which was actually pretty much rose gold glitter.  "Just as long as it isn't called 'Laughing Stock,'" said Michelle.  Ha!  Why is it that I cannot control my laughter when I'm mid-toe painting?

"Oh, here's a good colour for you, Michelle."

"Excellent, what's it called..."

"Hang on...the printing is tiny.  It's called...'You're an idiot!'  Bahahaha..."

Suzie and Michi @ Aurora

Don't ask my why that was so funny, but it made us laugh and even the aestheticians let out a chortle or two.  I'm sure Beth got an even bigger laugh at us leaving the spa in our flip-flops slipping all over the place.  Patent leather is always a good choice, unless your feet have recently been moisturised in which case it becomes a detriment to verticality and grace.  Somehow we managed to get upstairs to our room, and what a room it was...holy view, Batman.  A perfect place to have a glass of champers and get ready for the evening's festivities.

Going...

All gussied up in our finest, including some very special flip-flops on me (as the last time I had a pedicure, I had a training session directly after and ninja and pedi do not mix), we headed to Aurora.  After 13 weeks of being totally in control of my eating, this trip to a fancy restaurant was a little daunting...and I was fortified with wine.  We were seated at a table in front of some French doors through which there was a view of Bedwell Harbour...so raw oysters were an obvious choice to start.  Michi and I followed those gorgeous bivalve molluscs

Going...

with very possibly the best halibut I have ever eaten.  If you're going to stay at a swanky place like Poet's Cove, order seafood...it's a no-brainer.  Sebastian, our fabulous German waiter, even dressed our table with some of the vermillion tulips that Michelle left at the front desk.  We went from swashbuckling pirates pillaging the Recycle and Nu-to-Yu to ladies dining at the Governor's table.  Yum.  Now, where's my corset?  That halibut was far too delish to not have a whole bunch of butter slathered all over it.

Gone!

There's a lesson in all this, but I'm not sure what it is yet. 

How am I going to survive in the full fat, extra carb, huge portion world?  I pretty much cut out all other calories on Saturday to prepare for the lavish dinner and drink that I knew I'd be having at the resort...and that is just wrong.  Why can't I figure this food thing out?  Why can't I just let go and eat healthy meals and have the occasional meal out and account for everything?  Well, actually, I know.  Being a binge eater is a bit like being an alcoholic...you can't just have one drink...or one double cheeseburger.  It opens the floodgates for further self-destructive behaviour.

After navigating the tricky waters of dinner and drinks at a five star resort, I was looking forward to smooth sailing for the rest of the weekend.  And then I was broadsided by Sunday brunch.  Who's at the helm here?  Me.  So snap out of it, Suzie...and keep making good food choices.  Oysters and halibut were relatively healthy last night, and you can figure out what to have for breakfast.  I was confronted by pancakes, French toast, quiche, bacon, sausage, omlettes to order, deep-fried hashbrown potatoes, smoked salmon, various cheeses, toast, bagels, soba noodle salad, beet salad, potato salad, and then there were the desserts....I'm not a sweets person, so all I noticed were the chocolate mousse tarts as they were pointed out to me.  What to eat?  Well, I wanted some eggs...and veggies...so I opted for an omlette without ham or cheese.  Then I opted for 2 pieces of crispy bacon...how could I not?  It's BACON.  I took a bit of the smoked salmon too, and a spoonful of the soba noodle salad, the rest of my plate I filled with fruit.  Mission accomplished.  Dangerous currents avoided.
 
And the moral of this story?  I will survive.  It's not as hard as I thought it would be in the real world...I just have to learn to trust myself and make good choices.  And also, everyone needs to get a deep tissue massage at least once in their life.

Back to the big island after a weekend of incredible views, amazing hospitality, heartfelt conversation, intense relaxation, gourmet food, and quality wine...I'm ready to axe the "active rest" and hit the gym hard...which is good, because Monday means elliptical, aerobics, indoor cycling, and that's all before lunch.

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you this public service announcement:

When I work out, I get sweaty...really sweaty...and yet, I have never felt the urge to whip off my shirt à la Brandi Chastain.  So why is it that some of the men at the Crystal Pool & Fitness Centre do?  I like to think of this phenomenon as "the peacock effect."  This should rustle a few

"Hey, ladies!"

feathers to be sure. 

When I train, I generally don't wear make-up, I'm in impossibly stretchy clothing that pretty much shows ever curve and dimple, my hair is soaked with perspiration and stuffed into ponytails, and the last thing on my mind is how sexy I look.  

I'm more concerned with pushing myself further than the last time I was on the elliptical, or picking up my knees higher in aerobics class (or actually following the not-so-complicated choreography, let's be honest), or even running for longer than a minute and a half on the treadmill before jumping off...and at no time have I ever thought, I bet it'd be really attractive to show more skin and let it all hang out.  Or, how about I show off those stretched out tattoos on my lower back that I haven't had a chance to get touched up in 17 years.  Nor, have I contemplated running on the treadmill sans part of my wardrobe....and neither should you.

I think there's a sign somewhere in the facility that says:  No shirt, no shoes, no service...and if there isn't, there should be.

So please, boys...shirts on while working out.

Swimmers, as you were.

Weigh-in Wednesday # 9

What happens when you get your period, and then there's Saint Patrick's Day, and they coincide in the same week, and your weight loss for the previous weigh-in Wednesday was -0.6 pounds?  

The McGillicuddys @ Lucky Bar, Victoria, BC

And then the weather is disagreeable on Wednesday, and you really want to go to the Crystal Fools Run/Walking Clinic but the elements are too formidable...and your best friend is coming from Montreal and you really want to be good, but you also want your loft to be immaculate and even though she's known you for 13 years...you still want to impress?

Well, you concede to working out for 2 hours instead of the 3 on which you intended.

This is my life now...apparently 2 hours split between morning and evening is not enough.  The ninja insists that I work out twice a day, which I have done, but this week I've been working out for longer in the morning, and then again in the evening...if I can.  So when I skipped the walking clinic on hump day.  I knew I'd be in for some "missing a workout guilt."

Not that cleaning the house isn't cardio...because it is...but it's hard to justify sweating to the sounds of AC/DC and Black Flag (I don't know why I clean the house to such music, but I do) whilst doing the laundry and dusting the coffee table.  If I'm not at the Crystal Pool & Fitness Centre sweating, I feel penitent.  I'm not religious, but dear gods!

Starting weight:  292.1
1st weigh-in:  286.8
2nd weigh-in:  280.1
3rd weigh-in:  276.4
4th weigh-in:  274.1
5th weigh-in:  270.6
6th weigh-in:  266.2
7th weigh-in:  262
8th weigh-in:  261.4

9th weigh-in:  257.7

Weigh-in Wednesday number 9...FRAK!  Is it 9 already?  STRESS...does this mean I only have my ninja for 3 more weeks?  Must figure out way to keep up with the training after this Times Colonist Health Challenge is over.  And also, YES!  I lost 3.7 pounds...wish it were more, but what can you do.  I would pray to St. Patrick, but I'm not a Catholic, nor do I think he would save me, in fact, I think he prevented me from losing more.  Damn you, delicious Guinness, but thank you for giving the world the most amazing stout in the universe.

So, as I weighed-in and lost weight, Victoria decided to rain, sleet, and hail on Wednesday, and I helped Stéffi clean the house and anticipated Del (The Oracle Delfine's) arrival.

Monster Munch

The Monster Muncher with her Monster Munch

There were only 3 of us who attended the information session at the Eating Disorders Programme.  I have to admit to feeling a bit uncomfortable participating in such a meeting as I certainly don't look like I've been restricting calories or purging...and the programme caters to people living with and/or affected by eating disorders, including anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa, and/or eating disorder not otherwise specified.  The latter is the category in which I think I fall.

I have been a binge eater, with no purging, for the last...I don't know how long.  A shameful practice that I started training for when I returned from university one spring.  My friends and I would stay up late, rent movies and each of us would grab a large bag of chips to go with.  I don't know when 1 bag became a couple, for variety's sake, but I gradually stretched my stomach to fit the entire contents of both.  With this sort of training, it wasn't long before I could fit in some mac n' cheese or ramen noodles or fast food or Chinese.  And if I did indeed eat breakfast the next day, it would be leftover BBQ crisps or some sort of processed noodles or the remnants of the disgraceful feast of the previous afternoon, evening, or late night.  The heartburn I suffered was ridiculous.

Hot dog...it's what's for breakfast

This became my normal.  It would ebb and flow depending on my emotions.  I did most of my binging in private, away from scrutiny, gorging on fast food and drink, convenience store junk, and things I could order off of menus stuffed into my mailbox.  After a championship round of gluttony, I would hide the evidence lest someone close to me find out what I had been eating.  I would pack up all the proof of my pig-out and toss it in the building's communal bins or even in the trash outside on the street.  I was so embarrassed by my addiction.

Prajnaparadha - crimes against wisdom - binge eating is lawlessness against one's better judgment.  Why would I do this to myself?  The more I ate, the worse I felt, the bigger I got, and the more contempt I had for "me."

When I sprained my ankle in November of 2012, upon my return from New Orleans I saw an orthopaedic surgeon who gave me a huge reality check.  It didn't help that I had once seen him play the Lord High Executioner in Gilbert & Sullivan's Mikado, what he had to say dropped my penny so to speak.  The reason the injury was so massive was, in short, due to my weight.  Joints are not meant to hold up such poundage.  And he told me so.  Then I cried.  He told me that I wouldn't be able to stand long days on my foot, so there went work.  Medical leave, injury, and insult...well, not insult, but I think I finally realised I was killing myself with food.  Drinkers drink, junkies do drugs, and I ate. 

The counsellor explained the programme, defined eating disorders, and voiced the philosophies of the clinic.  This facility and all that work there is such an amazing resource in our community...and even though I found out about it through my family doctor...it is available through self-referral.

I am currently in my 10th week of the Times Colonist Health Challenge.  2 weeks in, when

The beige meal - steak, frites, gravy, bread, and butter

Sandra McCollough - the reporter that is covering the story, asked me what I would change if I could do something differently in the past,  I said I wouldn't change a thing.  Actually, I think I said that I lived my life without regret because every single thing I do and have done is a learning experience...and right or wrong, good or bad, the culmination of all my experiences has made me the person that I am today.  When I think about that statement and think back to how my food addiction started, the emotional and stress binge eating took over, and how I cultivated it for all those years...I really wish I had done something like this sooner.  But I didn't.  How many of us can be totally honest with ourselves, our doctors, our peers, our friends and family?  Experts, relatives, and confidants can tell us over and over until they are blue in the face what is best for us...but it isn't until we ourselves accept the reality of our own health that we are moved to change. 

Reaching out for a helping hand isn't a sign of weakness, it's a sign of self-acceptance and a catalyst for positive personal development.