It's More Than Just Lunch ...

Hi, FFGs and Future FFGs!
Let's talk about lunch. Not what I HAD for lunch (although if you really want to know, I'll tell you ... since there's no secrets between us). No ... I have a lunch story from this week to share with you.

I have been insanely busy lately. (You know, I'm going to vow right now not to write or say that again ... I'm busy, you're busy, so what? I'm in a constant state of busy. I don't need to reiterate that! It makes me sound much more important than I really am.) OK, so Thursday, I got into work kind of late (8:45ish), because I worked late Wednesday trying to get some stories edited for our September issue. I had my To Do list running a loop through my head ... call this person, that person, get this file moved, get that one moved, prepare for this meeting, answer that email ... and that one ... and that one ... And then the phone rings, and it's one of the big execs in the company. He's in town from New York, and wants to have lunch. "Crap," I think.
"Sure!" I say.
"I have too much to do . . . and I wanted to sneak in a workout at lunch," I think.
"Where do you want to go, and what time?" I say.

And then he says, "How about barbecue?"

Pause.
"Crap," I think again.
"Sure!" I say again.

And then he says, "Are you sure? I heard you hesitate."

"Crap," I think again. "He heard me hesitate."
"Sure I'm sure," I say. "I'll meet you."

See, not only was lunch out not part of my plan that day, I'm not the biggest meat-eater. I'll eat poultry, but beef and pork and I don't get along very well. And I have been to some barbecue spots where beef, pork, and white bread are all they've got. But I managed to check my anxiety. You know, I've been doing this along time, this Former Fat Girl thing, and I'm pretty good at not freaking out when I'm going into unknown food situations. Usually, I figure, there will be SOMETHING there for me to eat that's not completely unhealthy. But this lunch date also took away the only time I had that day to exercise, and the combination, I think, got to me a bit.

The other thing is that I try to be very careful with people who don't know me well not to come off as some food freak. It's that whole keep-it-a-secret thing. Once somebody picks up on the fact that you're managing your weight, you open yourself up to a line of questioning you just don't want to get into. But if you DON'T explain yourself, you can create the impression that you're completely uptight, micromanaging, inflexible. And that's not good--especially when you're dining with the man who signs your paychecks.

So I tried to assume a whole air of nonchalance when I perused the menu. Ahhh, a grilled chicken sandwich! A smoked turkey plate! Salads--with no fried chicken or bacon strips on top! YAY! All was well. My dining companion insisted I try the baked beans--a spoonful of his--and despite the fact that they were LOADED with pork, I did. And they were good. But not good enough to get a cup for myself.

The whole thing ended up OK. But it's hard when you can't control your lunchtime menu. I have a good friend who has working lunches most days of the week--and from the way she describes the choices, the person or persons who arrange them isn't clued in to the whole healthy thing. It's always some array of casseroley things, or fried things, or whatever. So hard to manage--and when she does, either by ordering the healthiest thing on the menu (with "healthy" being relative), or by skipping over the fattiest offenders, the "pushers" around her aren't all that nice about it either.

They say peer pressure is tough for kids ... and I know from first-hand experience that it is. (Explains how someone like me ... a vehement opponent of smoking, a passionate proponent of all things healthy ... SMOKED for a brief period in junior high, a desperate effort to liberate myself from my status as a total nerd. Obviously, it didn't work!) We thought all that was over, didn't we? But it's alive and well ... in the workplace and out, especially surrounding food. It's hard when you're dealing with friends, definitely--I've written (see my post, A Good Divorce) about having to break up with friends over this, for God's sake. But at work ... there's the added layer of political pressure to do lunch, to conform. Your very success as an employee, your ability to move up, to get the choice assignments, to be viewed as a "team player," can hinge on your response to a lunch invite. And not only that ... what you order once you get there! It's completely ridiculous.

When I went back to work after having Johnny, I felt a ton of pressure to "do lunch" with my employees. But I was hell-bent on keeping up my exercise habit--without sacrificing time with my family. So I revolted. I set my boundaries, "owned" my lunch hour ... and did my business over coffee instead. I felt good about standing up for myself, but it wasn't easy ... I had to fight the idea that I was being a bitch, that I was being disloyal, that this unwillingness to play the game would show up on my "permanent record" at some point. I had to let go of all that and do what I needed to do for me ... to "choose me." I know some women, like my friend, have little choice. But I still believe there are lots of us who could stand up, take back our time, "do lunch" on our own terms.

I don't quite know what to do about this--except to hope that as more and more of us Former Fat Girls infiltrate the corner offices in corporate America, we begin to change the culture to one that's less food-focused, more flexible, more supportive of individual healthy choices.

That's my lunch story ... do you have one to share?

Lisa D

A Little Hard to Swallow

A reporter from the New York Sun called me this week to get a comment about the new diet drug that went on the market a couple of days ago. If you haven't heard--impossible, unless you're on a total media fast--it's the first over-the-counter version of a prescription weight-loss pill. They're basically doing the same thing with this that they did with Claritin. Anyway, this reporter asked me what I thought. Now, I don't know much about drugs in general, except that I try to avoid taking them unless absolutely necessary. And I certainly don't know much about this particular one. But the little I do know is that like all legit weight loss drugs (and some illegit ones), the makers clearly state that you have to eat a "healthy" and exercise, or the thing won't work. And I also know that when you're forking over however much money it costs to get this drug, the last thing you want to hear is that you have to diet and exercise too. I mean, isn't that what you want the pill for--so you DON'T have to do the hard stuff? Not to mention the fact that telling someone they have to exercise and diet doesn't mean they're going to do it. At least when you're under a doctor's care, you might feel a little more motivated to actually make some lifestyle changes, even if it's just out of the fear of having to face him at your next appointment (you know how mortifying it is when you promise to lose, and you don't ...)

When getting a diet drug is as easy as slipping a pack of pills in your cart at Wal-Mart, though, there's none of that. No fear, no advice or guidance, no one to talk you through how to take it, or to impress upon you the seriousness of following those fine-print directions on the box. Sure, there's the pharmacist, who can be hugely helpful, if you haven't figured that out already (mine even helped me determine the right dose of Benedryl to calm my itchy, scratchy, allergic dog). And yes, there's a website--a very good website, in fact, with a club you can join, a plan you can follow, whatever.

But ...

I have to think that people will be snatching up this pill, hoping it will work magic without all that distasteful sweating and portion controlling. Because the fact is, that PERMANENT weight loss is hard. And the hard part isn't so much the physical strain of exercise or even resisting a bag of Peanut M&Ms (although that's .... damn hard). The hard part is change, pure and simple. We'd all like to think we could keep our lives like they are, but take a pill and be ... thinner, richer, happier, more successful. We'd like to think that we can have what we want without all the hard work. And when I say we, I mean me too. There are lots of things I want, and sometimes it takes a bonk on the head to realize that I'm sitting here, waiting for them to drop in my lap. And that's not going to happen unless I do the hard work.

Now, I'm not against diet pills. Or gastric bypass. But they aren't the ONLY answer. They only change what's going on in your body ... not what's in your head.

A couple of months ago, before my book came out, I had the opportunity to interview a guy who had had gastric bypass three years ago. He had lost an amazing amount of weight, and was being showered with compliments. But they made him uncomfortable--because he finally had realized that he hadn't done the hard work yet. You see, even though at first he had physical restrictions on what and how much he could eat, after a year-plus, he began being able to have his favorite burgers, fries, etc. He wasn't exercising, he wasn't eating right. But just before I met him, he hooked up with a trainer and started getting serious about his diet. We had a great conversation about our journeys--he was so candid, and so, I think, touched by the fact that I understood what he was going through.

He has a road ahead of him. We all do. But we have the tools (and we have each other!) to get through. Maybe that pill is one of them, I don't know. All I know is that a pill won't sustain you for the journey.

What do you guys think about this issue? Will you take the new diet drug? Feel free to disagree with me (God knows, I'm not always right!).

Lisa D

Inspiration Everywhere!

So it's been more than a WEEK since I last posted! Please don't think I've forgotten you. Frankly, I have been completely busy and a bit stressed out ... I had a big thing going on at work and a business trip, and I let it all get to me. But I'm back ... and trying to regain my balance (so, what's new?).

A couple of weekends ago, I had the pleasure of experiencing something so amazingly rare in the lives of modern women .... more rare than getting an actual human being on the phone when calling the wireless phone company of your choice ... an evening in my own home, ALONE. My husband took Johnny for an overnight trip to the his parents' lakehouse, and there I was, alone.

For some reason, the most mundane activities become bliss when I'm able to do them by myself, on my own time, by my own plan. I spent my afternoon and evening alone cleaning out closets and toy boxes (not the easiest thing to do under the watchful eyes of a pack rat husband and a son who clings on to the most broken, pitiful piece of plastic the minute I try to put it in the "Donate" box). I picked up the dog from the vet, went for a leisurely grocery shop, returned Johnny's books and videos to the library. I did get a GREAT pedicure--a treat, to be sure, but also a necessity if I have any notion of exposing my feet in sandals.

While I was at the library, I wandered (I was wandering! When do I EVER have time to wander!) into the movie aisle. There, I saw the DVD of Bend it Like Beckham. Now, I had checked out that movie at LEAST six times without watching it. I have a habit of that ... thinking, naively, that I WILL find a relatively empty space in my calendar to watch some great film that doesn't involve animated characters or beasts of the wild.

But this time, home alone, I finally watched this movie that's now probably 10 years old. And I LOVED it. It's one of those kind of stories that I like--a combination of the underdog, overcoming the odds, standing up for herself, winning, in the end. I guess I like those movies because I feel like, in some small way, they are MY story. Not that I have faced incredible odds and challenges. The daily adventure of carving out a healthy life, of trying to maintain that balance, may not be the stuff of movies, but it's no less important.

Bend it Like Beckham is now on my list of those feel-good, comeback-kid movies that manage to stick with me and give me a lift when I'm feeling a bit beaten down. It's a British film that follows a young Indian girl who has a major talent for soccer, much to her very traditional parents' dismay. I won't ruin it for you, but the ending is the kind of ending we all want in our lives.

Others on my list: Invinceable (the true story of a 30-something bartender who tries out for the Philadelphia Eagles professional football team--and makes it), Chariots of Fire (the story of an Olympic running team way back in the 30s or 40s, I think), Seabiscuit (OK, it's about a horse, but very inspiring!) ... and more than I can list here. My favorite all-time movie, though, is Billy Elliot, another British film about a little boy who stinks at soccer but finds his calling in a ballet class. There's something about the idea of choosing a course and pursuing it, despite all the obstacles in your way, that really speaks to me.

So, if you need a little boost, try sneaking off and renting one of these flicks. They all have some kind of sports theme (which I'm a sucker for, obviously, but may not be your thing). Tell me what your favorite against-all-odds movies are ... so next time I find myself home alone, I'll know what to do with my time.

Take care--

Lisa D

A "Good" Divorce?

Hi--

OK, I was planning to write something really fun today, but I got a question from a reader that I really want to address here in the blog. Erin from somewhere in America (I suppose ... the foreign editions aren't out yet!) asked me if I ever had to "break up" with a friend during my FFG journey. And I don't think she's the only one wondering--there have been many posts on my guestbook from people whose family, friends, husbands who ... to say it nicely ... are less than supportive of their efforts to short-circuit the fat girl thinking in their heads and work towards a healthier image of themselves and their bodies.

Well, let me tell you a story.

When I was well on my way in my journey--I was a dedicated runner, a Weight Watchers devotee, etc.--I became best buds with a woman I'll call TK. (You know I believe in complete honesty, but I just can't see anything good coming of my naming names here ...) We were always hanging out ... it was one of those friendships where you rarely said my name without saying hers, and vice-versa. TK was funny, creative, smart, and naturally thin, athletic, blonde (but I liked her anyway--kidding!). And she had NO IDEA how it felt to be a fat girl. That is not to say that she never worried about her weight; I know she had gotten a bit heavy in college (before I knew her), and still had a 5-pound or so swing. But as you and I know, being a fat girl or Former Fat Girl isn't about how heavy you are or used to be. I know for a fact that there are women out there who have 20, 30, 40, 70 ... probably even more ... excess pounds on them who aren't fat girls--who aren't hiding behind their weight, who aren't sacrificing their own well-being taking care of everyone else's stuff, who aren't all-or-nothing thinkers who see every excess pound as a failure, and give up trying at all as a result.

TK was the kind of person who could eat a bag of cookies for dinner, and feel no shame in it. She'd just make up for it by eating less the next day. I could NEVER do that. I couldn't just shake it off and get back in the game, like a quarterback who was sacked in a big game. I'd lay there, wallowing in my pain, in my SHAME. And then I'd want to just quit--to give up on myself, my diet, my exercise plan, whatever, because IF YOU CAN'T BE PERFECT, THEN WHY TRY TO BE ANYTHING? My Former Fat Girl journey was all about working through that, about finding forgiveness, about letting go of perfection (in both behavior AND body!).

And let me tell you--friends, to me, were EVERYTHING. I was a giver, you understand, I was all about making people like me. I worked hard at being the PERFECT FRIEND, and wore that badge proudly.

But TK and I started having issues over food. We'd go out for dinner, and I'd order my salad with dressing on the side--no cheese, no croutons, and God forbid, no bacon!--or my baked potato with no butter (just salsa), or my naked grilled chicken breast. I was super-strict about my diet back then, because I wasn't yet a Former Fat Girl. I still didn't trust myself not to blow up if I had a shred of cheese, didn't trust that just a taste of something decadent wouldn't trigger a full-on binge. TK, in the meantime, would order a bacon burger with cheese, or the chicken fried steak with cream gravy, or a pile of nachos. And then we'd have to have a whole conversation about it, with her justifying her food choices and criticizing mine, as if my dinner choice was some elaborately planned nasty comment on her self-insinuated lack of willpower or unhealthy appetite or whatever. She had no idea how difficult just those conversations were. I was trying to exercise INO ... and here she was reasoning me into wanting to eat like she did. I would rather have ignored the fact that sitting there before her, within my arms' reach, was a pile of gooey tortilla chips covered with the really good jalapenos that make you cry they're so hot.

After we'd gone into this way too many times, I started noticing other things. It was almost like I was finally tuning into our relationship. For one thing, I noticed that she mostly called me when she was miserable--and mostly wanted to talk to me when I was miserable. That she pretty consistently discouraged me from pursuing a relationship with a guy I was totally mad for ... a mutual friend who wasn't a big fan of TK's (which I think was why it bothered her so much that he and I were drifting closer and closer). And then she said something that really hurt--something I couldn't, as hard as I tried, come up with a good justification for.

TK was pretty insecure about her career. She was kind of cobbling together a living at the time, thinking about going back to school for SOMETHING--I don't think she even knew what. I guess she felt like she was floundering. I wasn't exactly in the most stable of situations then myself: I was working part time at a university, trying to finish my masters' thesis, freelance writing a bit. So it didn't even occur to me that she would see me as "successful" in comparison to her. Friendship, to me, wasn't about comparing or competing.

Any way, one night we were talking about writing, I guess, and my ambition to work for magazines, and TK said, "Well, ANYBODY can be a writer."

Ouch.

I don't remember what followed, but I know it wasn't anything along the lines of "... but GREAT writers are one in a million." All of a sudden, I saw how these comments, these conversations about my diet, were eating away at my preciously small store of self-confidence. I knew pretty immediately that I had to protect myself from that--from her--or all the progress I'd made was in jeopardy. I decided we needed to take a break. So I just quit calling, quit returning calls, made myself as scarce as I could.

But it wasn't as simple as that. I felt really conflicted, really bought into the "friends forever" idea. What (straight) girl breaks up with a girlfriend?

The other women in our little circle had no clue how to handle this--which just made me feel even worse, even weirder. I didn't even "announce" our trial separation ... but I didn't have to. All I had to do was show up at a party alone to get the buzz going.

I did talk about it with two guy friends, both of whom were also friends with TK. I think they asked me flat out (something none of the girls would do) what was up between us, and I said something vague. And then they launched into this whole thing: "It's so obvious that she's competing with you. She's just jealous." They said it as if they'd seen it all along, that, of course!, any idiot could see that.

Well, not THIS idiot.

That whole thing made me start really thinking about what a true friend is. I can't tell you how it CHANGED my definition, because I don't think I was really conscious of how I defined friendship. I started thinking that above everything else, friends are the people who truly want the best for you. They see beyond themselves and their own issue enough that they are happy when YOU are happy. They're not always looking at what you have, or what you're doing, or what you've accomplished, and plugging it into some balance sheet to figure out whose on top. They're not keeping score.

There's probably lots of other things that a true friend is. But for me, this is the heart of it. Sometimes I beat myself up over not calling my friends enough (I owe three of my closest friends calls right now, and it's killing me!). But they know I'm here, and I know they're there. And we both know what's important.

I truly believe that distancing myself from TK was one of the best things I've done, and not just because it helped me stay on my Former Fat Girl course. It made me look at the quality of all my relationships, to understand that in some cases (maybe many cases), I was only giving because that's how I got my value. I learned to start focusing more within, to continue to let go of "perfect," to act less to please others and more to please myself.

I got back in touch with TK years later--I was traveling to her town on business, and looked her up. We went to dinner, and she wanted to talk about it all. I let her say her piece because she needed to but ... what I really wanted to do was move on, catch up. I haven't talked to her since, but I think that's OK. I think we're OK.

So, to Erin, to all of you--that's my divorce story. I know it's not easy to say goodbye to people who have been with you for years. But maybe you try taking a break, and see how it feels. You don't have to write a Dear John (Jane?) letter, you don't have to officially say anything if you don't want (in fact, it might open you up to more pain). You never know--your absence might let them know you're really serious about this, and bring you to a real understanding.

Does anyone else have a break-up story? Happy endings are welcome!

thanks for reading--

Lisa D