<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997</id><updated>2011-07-07T23:15:42.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Half the woman I used to be</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-7621861835370787825</id><published>2010-05-17T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T14:22:22.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Whoa, I guess it's been awhile.  The new episode in my life, as far as weight loss goes, is exercise.  I decided I was not pushing myself enough.  I needed to do something I didn't think I could.  So I started the Couch to 5k running program.  You're supposed to start with one minute intervals of running and walking.  I started with 20 seconds running, 1:40 walking.  I felt like there was no way I'd ever run 5k.  Now I'm running 5 minutes in a row and I'm starting to believe I am going to be able to run that 5k.  And because it's been so gradual, it hasn't bothered my knees or feet or anything.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, because I felt the effects of heart-pumping exercise on my ADD and depression symptoms, I started doing 30 minutes on the elliptical every other day when I'm not running/walking.  This works better than medication.  But the key, I think, is the pushing.  I need to get my heart rate up so I'm really sweating.  Do that for 20-30 minutes and I get the same adrenaline and endorphin rush that the drugs are supposed to deliver.  That will carry me for 8-10 hours.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's the first time in my "trying to lose weight" career that I've exercised for a reason other than weight loss.  I am definitely hoping for weight loss results, but the thing that keeps me going every day is that it makes my day better.  It's like taking a "have a great day!" pill in the morning.  And when I start to get used to the feeling and forget that it is because of the exercise that I feel good I think of the health problems that I have and the ones that are waiting for me in the future and see myself climbing out of a pit of diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, stroke, cancer, mental illness, dementia and just plain immobility with each step I take.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-7621861835370787825?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/7621861835370787825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2010/05/whoa-i-guess-its-been-awhile.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/7621861835370787825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/7621861835370787825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2010/05/whoa-i-guess-its-been-awhile.html' title=''/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-5543766213368667926</id><published>2010-02-09T06:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T07:11:48.324-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Fighting</title><content type='html'>Well, the battle continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I almost had it licked this past Sunday.  I was locked in a vice grip with temptation, neither it nor I being able to pin the other down (thanks, Shirley, for the wrestling analogy).  I could find my way to sanity, but within minutes, or seconds, of finding peace the temptation would grab me again.  I thought I was going to come through, but suddenly I just got up, walked to the kitchen and started eating.  This food addiction is a bizarre experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I kept eating until I was almost sick.  When I'm bingeing I basically don't stop eating until I physically can't eat anymore or I will vomit.  I wish I didn't have to get to that point before I can shake the lust for food.  Now I am in the "I don't want to overeat" stage.  The hard part comes when the desire to eat comes back.  And the battle begins again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been in this story for at least 20 years, but this time I know I can win.  I know it won't kill me, and that I can have peace and even enjoy a balanced life with food after the battle.  It's kinda like I'm under siege - I just need to outlast the cravings and they will retreat.  And now, at age 41, I know, for the first time, that I can outlast them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-5543766213368667926?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/5543766213368667926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2010/02/still-fighting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/5543766213368667926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/5543766213368667926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2010/02/still-fighting.html' title='Still Fighting'/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-1922544806463472775</id><published>2010-02-05T10:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T10:19:07.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jamaica - 2010!</title><content type='html'>Well, time to re-invent the blog, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I survived Christmas.  Gained 4 lbs over two weeks, but lost it the following week.  So there I was at 32 lbs lost, feeling very good about where I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came my first all-inclusive tropical vacation.  I could not have predicted how that status - all-inclusive - would affect me.  I felt I had to eat everytime there was food offered.  And in between the meals, there are drinks - fruity, smoothie, bubbly, steamy - you name it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Wednesday I felt ready to cry.  Okay, I did cry.  I was so awfully full and disgusted with myself for not being able to say no.  Why was I compelled to eat when I didn't want to?  And why was I compelled to eat everything I would normally avoid - just because it was "paid for"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upside - I'm not beating myself up about it.  As a learning experience, I realize I am not, at this point, ready for an all-inclusive vacation.  I'm not able to turn down all these things that feel like "treats" to me when they are constantly offered and all I have to do is say yes.  I hope one day I will be able to eat according to my better judgement in spite of the availability of unhealthy choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, when I returned I felt panicked that I would have to stop eating all these things - chocolate being first on the list - and so I was bingeing.  All Tuesday, right up until the meeting, I was packing it in.  The results were a 10 lb gain on the scale. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope at least a few of those pounds are from the day's intake and will come off quickly.  Still, I'm not impressed with myself to have gained 10 lbs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the good far outweighs the bad.  I've learned the necessary elements to staying in control of my eating, and I've learned to have patience with myself after I've had a period of out of control eating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I should instantly revert to eating perfectly, but that doesn't happen.  I have cravings for sugar, and I have a pressing "hunger" to keep consuming things.  I have to wait for that to go away.  And it does go away after a couple days of resisting it.  It's a gradual acclimation to balanced eating and, after a couple of days, that aggravating desire to eat, eat, eat goes away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can do this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-1922544806463472775?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1922544806463472775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2010/02/jamaica-2010.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/1922544806463472775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/1922544806463472775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2010/02/jamaica-2010.html' title='Jamaica - 2010!'/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-186793224529418985</id><published>2009-10-07T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T09:21:00.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Week 4 - Goal:  Eating after 8 pm limited to 2 evenings/week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't sure it was realistic to go from eating every evening to no evenings.  I've decided to do this as an experiment.  I wonder how I'll feel if I don't eat in the evenings.  I'm not sure I'm actually hungry when I eat then, or if it's just that I have the points so I eat something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next weight goal is 20 lbs.  My reward will be to buy something new, clothing wise.  Then it will be my 10% - 28 lbs.  Reward - new winter jacket.  Then 35 lbs.  Reward - pedicure.  I want to make this last one 40 lbs - but I'm not entirely sure I will reach that before the Jamaica trip.  And I need a pedicure before the trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-186793224529418985?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/186793224529418985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/10/week-4-goal-eating-after-8-pm-limited.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/186793224529418985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/186793224529418985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/10/week-4-goal-eating-after-8-pm-limited.html' title=''/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-3270553344190217284</id><published>2009-10-05T07:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T09:07:51.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Week 3 - well, week 3 ends tomorrow - I'm falling behind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goal: Drink at least 3 glasses of &lt;em&gt;water&lt;/em&gt; a day, over and above other liquids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has not gone well. I've had 1 - 2 glasses on a good day, and I think there have been some days I haven't had any water. Maybe I'll keep this goal for next week as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been wondering about developing a habit of not eating after a certain time, like 8 pm or something. I am often having popcorn in the evenings - because I can. But many times I am aware that I'm not hungry for the popcorn; I'm just having it because I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I decided not to have anything after supper. I was hungry around 10 pm. That made me a little uncomfortable for awhile and I felt a little unhappy about my decision to not eat for the evening. But at some point I forgot about it so I guess it wasn't that big of a deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loss:  1 lb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay!  I've reached my first goal of 10 lbs.  I'm getting a manicure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-3270553344190217284?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/3270553344190217284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/10/week-3-well-week-3-ends-tomorrow-im.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/3270553344190217284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/3270553344190217284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/10/week-3-well-week-3-ends-tomorrow-im.html' title=''/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-5487449768987280191</id><published>2009-09-23T11:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T20:50:51.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Week Two: This week I commit to eating 2 servings of Fruits and Vegetables per day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Done!  This one was harder.  I had to work at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loss:  2.4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's awesome I still lost when I spent 4 days in Montreal always having to eat at a restaurant.  Some tough choices there, too.  But I did it!  Proud of myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-5487449768987280191?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/5487449768987280191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/week-two-this-week-i-commit-to-eating-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/5487449768987280191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/5487449768987280191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/week-two-this-week-i-commit-to-eating-2.html' title=''/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-1832350443161452464</id><published>2009-09-23T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T11:04:06.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>September 22/09 (retroactively)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Week One:  This week I commit to tracking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loss:  6.6 lbs&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-1832350443161452464?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1832350443161452464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/september-2209-retroactively-week-one.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/1832350443161452464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/1832350443161452464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/september-2209-retroactively-week-one.html' title=''/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-2127626247772635886</id><published>2009-09-21T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T12:36:13.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope</title><content type='html'>I am having this strange sensation, and I only just recognized what it is - it's hope!  I don't know where it came from exactly, but that's what it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn't like I've had some dramatic spiritual awakening.  I've just started being more honest, and I guess along with that I've become more accepting - of the frailty of human beings, and of the sinful state of the world we live in, and, it follows, accepting of God's faithful love and grace. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was always kinda repulsed by my own sinfulness.  I assume others would be repulsed as well.  But somehow God is not repulsed.  How did Christ draw near to the most unclean and degraded people around him?  He honestly saw beyond their sinfulness to something more important. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't end with my sinful nature; there's more to me than that.  I think that's what God sees and I'm seeking to see that as well.  And to see beyond others' sin and really be able to love them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-2127626247772635886?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2127626247772635886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/hope.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/2127626247772635886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/2127626247772635886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/hope.html' title='Hope'/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-2319244494309632595</id><published>2009-09-17T18:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T07:35:34.035-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tired and sad this morning. Maybe it's still the backlash from the cookie episode. I am longing for food. A bowl of cereal, toast with peanut butter, a cookie... doesn't matter what because I'm not hungry anyway. Just wanting some comfort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had an unpleasant conversation with the husband last night. I've been working on re-engaging with life the past week or two. As I attempt to manage my self and my time I am confronted with the things that frustrate my attempts. Finding solutions to these hindrances is a necessary part of the process, but in doing so I find myself facing all the pain and frustration of my married life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm struggling even to put it into words. I've been here before, trying to find a better way to manage life, and I am always hurt and/or shackled by Steve's attitudes and words. Consequently, I gave up trying. I disengaged from everything that was frustrating and seemingly unchangeable. Hate working in my kitchen? Don't. Stop planning meals, stop cooking as much as I possibly can. Frustrated by the cramped and inefficent space in the girl's closet? Pile the clothes and deal with it later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't me. I'm a solution girl. Why be frustrated when a little change can make it much better? I'm confronted with how I have buried my feelings of powerlessness, hurt and anger and simply withdrawn from life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I strong enough to handle the mess of dealing with these feelings, especially in terms of my husband's reactions? I don't know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-2319244494309632595?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2319244494309632595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/tired-and-sad-this-morning.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/2319244494309632595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/2319244494309632595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/tired-and-sad-this-morning.html' title=''/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-2168237049137849042</id><published>2009-09-17T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T19:02:46.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Starbucks, my Starbucks</title><content type='html'>While I maintain that Starbucks is my friend - their non-fat lattes will keep my bones intact til I'm 100 - I was, until tonight, blissfully unaware of the evil lurking behind the steamed milk and espresso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was returning from dance class (for the children, not me) with plans to hit the drive-thru for a latte and 6 points burning a hole in my tracker and thought mayhaps I would have a cookie. Yes they're fairly big cookies, but I had 6 points. 6 points is a whole lunch entree - methinks it should cover a cookie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After consuming said cookie, I went online to track down its nutritional details. Why estimate when I can get the exact figures? This is where my rare pocket of food naivete meets cold, hard reality. This delicious cookie is ------460 calories-------, -------22 grams of fat-------, -------11 points------. It's a cookie, people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In shock, I stare at my computer monitor with sure and final knowledge, woefully laced with disbelief, that I will never enjoy this cookie again. Not the way I did pre-9/17. In the post-9/17 culture of my mind I will never again assume that an item's capacity to hold fat or sugar is limited by it's size or by ages old baking truths wherein flour + butter + sugar + eggs = cookies that wouldn't reach 460 calories if they were the size of your head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the worst part? I immediately crave more. Not only is it the most calorie dense cookie known to man but it makes you crave more of whatever is in it that adds up to 460 calories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-2168237049137849042?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2168237049137849042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/starbucks-my-starbucks.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/2168237049137849042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/2168237049137849042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/starbucks-my-starbucks.html' title='Starbucks, my Starbucks'/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-2338886877140836945</id><published>2009-09-17T11:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T11:45:00.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Apparently, my carrier is not set up for mobile blogging.  Pity, cause now I can't remember what golden nugget went zinging through my brain earlier today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am happy to be tracking.  But today, day 2, it is sinking in that the need for planning is fast upon me.  Tracking doesn't work so well, for me, without planning.  I quickly get myself in trouble, run out of points, stop tracking... you get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I have learned the importance of keeping the ball rolling when it comes to developing new habits and keeping my eating under control, I now need to make planning my priority.  When I sit down to actually do this I'm confronted with the inevitable truth that I don't want to.  Maybe life isn't as much about doing what I want to do as I thought it was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I think I was telling Jenea (age 5) that just yesterday.  Is that what responsibility is?  See, I need an actual definition.  I'm not even sure what that is, but I have this feeling there is a really good reason for not just doing what you feel like doing all the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-2338886877140836945?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2338886877140836945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/apparently-my-carrier-is-not-set-up-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/2338886877140836945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/2338886877140836945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/apparently-my-carrier-is-not-set-up-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-1246537156978002303</id><published>2009-09-14T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T19:48:25.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Good day. If I was tracking today I may not have felt that way - but I managed to avoid eating any chocolate, pastries, donuts, cakes, squares, bars, marshmallows, toffee, candied apples, or just plain sugar by the spoonful! I did eat a muffin and a nutrition bar and too much food in general.  But at the moment I feel calmer than I have in a while.  The sugar demons are quieter, so I think I have succeeded to some degree today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-1246537156978002303?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1246537156978002303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/good-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/1246537156978002303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/1246537156978002303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/good-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-1048570661712514191</id><published>2009-09-02T09:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T10:02:48.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am not my own</title><content type='html'>Been on an all out binge for the past 7+ days.  Struggling because I don't feel ready to give it up yet, but the voice of reason is begging me to come to my senses.  Then I came across a Scripture passage I had written out - it was in a box of memorabilia - from 1 Corinthians, where it talks about your body being a temple of the Holy Spirit.  It says "you are not your own...you were bought at a price".  My body isn't really mine, it's on loan.  That made me think of the parable of the talents.  Maybe everything God gives us to use for Him is like those talents - not just money, or ability, but all the resources He gives us to use while we are in this life.  In that context it is clear to me that I have been frantically trying to "bury" this body since my teen years, earlier I think.  I have spent most of my lifetime trying to hide my body, much of the time wishing I had never been given it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-1048570661712514191?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1048570661712514191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-am-not-my-own.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/1048570661712514191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/1048570661712514191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-am-not-my-own.html' title='I am not my own'/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-4796012381249394555</id><published>2009-08-24T08:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T08:53:08.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay - it's the new me!  Posts in 5 minutes or less!  Maybe 10 minutes....  well, as long as it doesn't take and hour and a half or more!  Just read this quote, which I am finding very inspiring -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      "The chief cause of unhappiness is giving up what you want most  for what you want at the moment."  Zig Ziglar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been struggling with this very thing all morning.  I want to move toward my goal, but I really want just one last cinnamon bun with cream cheese icing - that sort of thing.  Not wanting to give up the sweets just yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me think - what about heroin users?  Do they want to give up the pleasure of another high?  Of course not.  They give it up because they know the goal of being free from their addiction is better than the momentary pleasure of shooting up.  Of course I don't want to give up the pleasure of eating - okay, realistically, 2 cinnamon buns with cream cheese icing - but I have to learn to give up that pleasure in order to achieve the life I want to live.  I know it is debatable how much a person must give up in order to lose weight, but you do have to learn to give up some things some of the time.  And some things - most of the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-4796012381249394555?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/4796012381249394555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/08/okay-its-new-me-posts-in-5-minutes-or.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/4796012381249394555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/4796012381249394555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/08/okay-its-new-me-posts-in-5-minutes-or.html' title=''/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-5846716813383225884</id><published>2009-08-10T10:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T10:34:29.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, so almost a week has past.  Journalling - nada; tracking - nope; support - uh uh; and prayer - not so much.  On Saturday I brought home 2 cinnamon buns and ate them.  Without much thought, without any angst or struggle.  It's like I bypassed guilt and wrestling somehow and just did it.  Which left me feeling kinda hopeless.  Now my cravings are overtaking my mind and just making decisions for me. &lt;br /&gt;Having a hard time praying.  What can I say?  What can I ask for?  Can I pray for God to deliver me and then turn around and eat the baked goods section at Safeway? &lt;br /&gt;Feeling low right now.  I need the house to be calmer, cleaner.  I don't want to do the work.  I need to get out, I need to do something other than wish the mess away.  I'm bored and I'm thinking of food.  Going outside now to read a book.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-5846716813383225884?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/5846716813383225884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/08/okay-so-almost-week-has-past.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/5846716813383225884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/5846716813383225884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/08/okay-so-almost-week-has-past.html' title=''/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755125717941395997.post-8465291434381504353</id><published>2009-08-04T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T14:18:51.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the Goal</title><content type='html'>the Goal is to be half the woman i am right now. The irony is that in becoming twice my normal size I have become at least half the woman I once was. Now I'm looking for that half of me again. I can lose half my body weight in pure fat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I keep the urgency of this goal in my mind? My tendency is to forget it the moment after it is realized. Already I am confronted with desires to eat. The illusion I have is that I will eat and enjoy and life will be peaceful and good. No problem. But the reality I live with is that I will eat (when I'm not hungry, when I'm stressed, when I'm bored, when I'm tired) too much and get fatter and fatter. I need to stay in the reality where eating for reasons other than hunger makes me fat, and resist the lure to dreamland where I can eat just for the pleasure and stress-relief eating brings. It relieves the present, temporal stress, but it creates a long-term, debilitating stress of its own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really am following the path of an addict. I think I can handle food but it always overtakes me. I become a slave to this lust for food (especially sugar) and I'll do anything to scratch that itch. Then I am ashamed and disgusted with myself and vow to put food in its proper place. And sometimes I can for awhile, but then I always fall to the temptation again. I don't know if cutting out sugar entirely would be enough for me to remain "sober". Is it only the sugar? Or is it all food?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep following Plans hoping someone has all the answers for me. But I've learned that those plans really only have the answer for some people. No plan can cover everyone. And part of that answer has to come from me, or the Plan fails. I am very afraid to trust myself for this answer. When I think of the education I have had in weight control I begin to laugh hysterically. I could write the plan and it would work! But I am lacking the confidence to follow my own instinct and knowledge. And I am lacking the faith to follow my God, knowing He will lead me down the right paths He has prepared for me. Thank you, Lord, for this time of clear thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Followed by another dose of stress. Children are adept at creating stressful situations. And what did I do? Grabbed a nutritionless, high-carb snack. Hunger and stress do not combine well for me. But, where was I? Thinking clearly. So there is being mindful of the reality of my relationship with food vs. the illusion my mind is drawn to; there is dealing with the temptation to eat, pure and simple; there is keeping accounts so you know when you are succumbing to the stress and the tempation just how much you are actually eating; there is support because it is a lot of work and I have a long way to go. Those are the first things I will address. I will remain mindful by journalling about this regularly; I will pray and turn my heart to God for help to withstand temptation; I will not fill the house with temptation-inducing foods; I will keep track of what I eat; I will find support, preferably a weekly support.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3755125717941395997-8465291434381504353?l=halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8465291434381504353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/08/goal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/8465291434381504353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3755125717941395997/posts/default/8465291434381504353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://halfthewomaniusedtobe.blogspot.com/2009/08/goal.html' title='the Goal'/><author><name>Tia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
