Food Fight

I'm reading "Unbearable Lightness" by Portia De Rossi.
I'm slightly distressed but actually not surprised to say that I have more in common with her than I am altogether comfortable with.  It's a surprisingly well written and insightful story of her struggle with anorexia.  With weight and image in general, actually.
I haven't finished it yet.  I know she eventually lives happily ever after with Ellen but I suspect that many of her "happy" days are still a struggle.  I am sure there are days when she thinks about weighing a small fraction of her healthy body weight and is a little wistful for the rush of saying no to food and getting on the treadmill instead.  I believe this because I know that rush.
When I came to med school I wanted to change a lot of things about myself.  I knew I was smart but I was shy and insecure and painfully aware of being overweight.  I wanted to dance and party and have lots of friends and feel as free and weightless as other people my age always looked to me.  I was living alone, away from family and close friends.  I wasn't really accountable to or responsible for anyone but me.  I had the chance to make whatever changes I wanted, and with characteristic determination, I took control.
It really did start as a "healthy" eating plan and moderate exercise.
Really.
It's just that my control got out of my control.

I have trouble with food.  I love it.  If it's around I almost can't say no.  I think constantly about what I'm going to eat and when and where.  I eat when I'm bored and I love to eat while I read, even though I don't remember later what I ate because I was reading at the time.  I worry about not having food around when I need it and so I carry a boatload of snacks with me at all times.  Then I eat them because they are there.  I will eat something I don't completely want rather than throw it away because I feel bad about the waste.  If I want to eat something and I choose not to, that desire follows me around and bothers me so it usually seems easier to eat what I want even if I know I shouldn't.  Even if I'm already full.
For all these reasons, moderation was and is almost impossible for me.  Making a good choice about food in the moment is so hard that it made the most sense to me to make all the choices ahead of time.  I decided what to eat at the beginning of the week and didn't buy anything extraneous to my menu.  That sounds OK.  And it was.  But then I narrowed my acceptable list of foods and shrunk my daily calorie count and before I knew it I was afraid of what would happen if I ate anything else.  Instead of freeing me to have fun, as the weight fell away I became a prisoner of the pounds I was afraid to gain back.  I started declining invitations to go out because it was easier to stay home than to figure out how to hide the fact that I didn't eat. 
But I can't say it was bad.  I enjoyed loosing weight.  I enjoyed what people said about my weight loss.  I enjoyed shrinking out of my clothes.  I was ridiculously pleased with the appearance of my collar bones.  Saying no to food felt good.  It felt like I was strong and in control.  I loved it.  Today, when I am feeling the most overwhelmed, out of control, and doubtful of my accomplishments I long to feel that strength again.  That scares me and so I usually eat to combat the feeling.

I never lost enough weight to be underweight.  I never made myself throw up or took any meds or laxatives or anything like that.  I just restricted intake and exercised like a fiend.  But I was definitely far outside the realm of normal healthy behavior.
I don't know how things may have gone.  I was focused on weight loss at all costs and energized by success but I also have good friends who were already starting to worry.  What did happen, is that I met Dave and my focus shifted just enough that the obsessive part of it fell away.  I still ate well and exercised but it was different.  It was a choice, not a need.  I stopped measuring every drop of milk that went into my coffee and the peanut butter on my bread.
Many things have changed in my life since then.  My weight has been up and down.  I have been in shape and out of shape.  Then I had Nathan and my focus swiveled so far around that I stopped seeing myself at all.   Being a doctor and being a mommy have left me taking care of everyone but myself.  Objectively, however, it is time for things to change.  My stamina, flexibility, and strength are basically gone.  My baby is getting faster and stronger and I am not.  I want to be able to run and jump and climb trees with him and with his children which means I have to take much better care of me.

I have been thinking a lot about reasonable changes I can make in my behavior and lifestyle.
I have a plan and I believe I can do it.
Part of the plan is keeping track here of how things are going.  I have decided to keep track of accomplishments and not pounds lost.  Trying to shift the focus a little.
The goal is for Dave and I to run the Pittsburgh Great Race together this fall.
I'll keep you posted on my progress.