On New Year's Resolutions

I have no shortage of “resolutions.” Goal-setting comes easily and naturally to me. I write my goals down. I share them with other people. I visualize their being accomplished. And I attach a time frame to them.

And for the next few days or weeks, many of us will be on a honeymoon with our resolutions. We’re going to be enthusiastic. We’re going to be motivated. We’ll be at the gym six out of seven days. We’ll be eating lots of celery and apples and carrots. We’ll shed those unwanted pounds once and for all. This year, we really will get in shape and be fit. We really will look better and feel better. And this year, we’ll be different! This year, we’ll stick to all of our resolutions.

Then life happens, and the dog throws up, the kids scream at each other, your spouse snaps at you, and your boss throws you a few surprises. So when you get home, all you want to do is sit on the couch, turn on the TV, and eat.

Resolutions are wonderful, but what will bring those resolutions into reality is this: having a plan for the tough days, for when the road is rough, when the course is challenging, and when the ideal and the real collide. And here are a few ideas that may help.

Take the middle way. Embrace the middle ground. Shun all or nothing thinking. Know that slip-ups are normal, and that we seldom progress is a continuous, straight line. Unplanned brownies can suddenly appear in front of you, and it can feel like you have no choice but to eat them. Unasked-for donuts may call your name from the break room. A surprise pizza may materialize in a meeting. So, if you eat a brownie, a donut, or a piece of pizza, enjoy it. Relish it and take delight in it. And as soon as you feel thoughts of self-recrimination and guilt, begin to forgive yourself for slip-ups and treat yourself with patience and love.

Look at the big picture. When I feel frustrated that my resolutions aren’t happening as fast as I’d like, I purposefully review where I was last year, or five years ago, or even ten years ago. This helps me realize how far I’ve come, and it reminds me that minor setbacks are simply that. Minor.

Embrace “Plan B.” This is a hard one for me. I like to accomplish things, and I must admit I tend toward perfectionism in some areas. I like things to go my way. Unfortunately, the way I “think” things should go isn’t always the way things always turn out. So, if the scale moves up when I think it should go down, I simply say to myself, “That’s good information to have,” and I consciously think about everything that went right for me in the past week. For me, a big part of “Plan B” is focussing on the good.

And so, approach your resolutions with moderation and patience. Look at how far you’ve come. And have a back-up plan. With this three-pronged approach, next year at this time, your resolutions may no longer be resolutions. They’ll be accomplishments to be celebrated!

Up Next: How I Came to Love the E-Word

Running on Ice in January

I went for a run today.

While the rest of my city quietly slept off New Year’s Eve, I was climbing what seemed like Himalayan ice mounds and maneuvering my way over partially-shoveled sidewalks.

It was cold. Eleven degrees above zero. My nose started running almost as soon as I stepped outside.

And throughout the first half of this run, I kept thinking, “Man, why am I doing this? Most sane people are indoors right now. Why the heck am I out here? Yahoo weather says it’s eleven degrees above zero. This is a drag. The wind is really gonna be tough on the way back. Do I have enough layers on? I sure hope I don’t fall. Why couldn’t those people shovel their sidewalks?”

Those were my thoughts. I was whining pathetically about being out in the cold. Then I remembered what an experienced marathoner told me last July. He said, “You do know that running is 99 percent in your head, don’t you?” I just nodded. But today was the day that I knew that running is way more mental than physical. I knew that, if I was going to complete this run, I had to adjust my thinking. I knew I needed to remind myself the real reasons for my suffering through the pain of wintertime running.

And so I started talking to myself. Instead of whining about the cold conditions, I began to think about what I really want out of my running.

My most immediate reason for “doing this” is that I’m preparing for a half marathon in sixteen days, and I want to stick to my schedule. I want to do as well as I possibly can and I want to achieve my goals for this race to the best of my ability.

My second reason for “doing this” is that I like a challenge. Running outdoors in the winter can be a challenge. Right now, it’s particularly challenging because the snow from last week’s blizzard hasn’t melted, the north wind is brutal, and the overall temperature is really, really cold. So after each run, I return to my apartment feeling exhilarated, knowing that I really accomplished something!

But finally, running is fun, regardless of the season. And that’s what I focused on today. “Running is fun. Running is fun. I like to run. Running is fun,” were the words I said to myself, over and over and over. And fun it is!

It’s fun to cross paths with other runners and feel like we’re part of an elite club--the few, the proud, the January runners. It’s fun to enjoy the snow men (and snow dogs) in people’s yards. It’s fun to think about where I was 45 pounds ago, and where I am today, and to know that running has played a big role in achieving and maintaining a healthy body weight.

Someone said, “Running tells us the good news about ourselves.” That’s true.

Running makes me feel good.

Running makes me happy.

Running makes me smile.

Up Next: On New Year’s Resolutions

How to Get What You Want

 

Many years ago, I came across F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “21 Pieces of Advice to His Daughter on Living.”  His simple yet profound list concludes with the suggestion, “Think about:  what am I really aiming at?”

Those six words--What am I really aiming at?--have stayed with me for the past two decades.  And during my weight-release journey, I found myself continually focussing, then refocussing, then refocussing again--on what I was aiming at, on what I really wanted, and on what my deepest desires were.  And I made some discoveries along the way.  

Here are a few: 

1. 1.Write down what you’re aiming at.  Most people don’t take the time to do this.  But this simple action is one of the most powerful things you can do.  And the good news is that this concept doesn’t pertain solely to releasing weight.  It pertains to life.  
   

2. 2.Tell somebody what you’ve written down.  When I finally figured out, at age 45, what it was I was aiming at (to get in the best shape of my life), I sat across from one of my closest friends in a coffee shop, and read her my list.  And she read me her list as well.  Having a consistent support and encouragement along this journey is a key component in being successful.
   

3. 3.Be your own best friend.  Pay attention to how you talk to yourself.  Speak to yourself affirmatively.  Immerse yourself in “I am” statements.  The more you talk to yourself in a positive, loving way, the more lovingly and compassionately you will treat yourself.  And these “I am” statements will lead you toward taking the action that will get you the results you want.
   

Figuring out what it is you’re aiming at, writing it down, telling somebody about it, and repeatedly affirming your goal or desire to yourself in a positive way are the most powerful, most effective, and most lasting ways to release weight through pleasure.  

For more information and a complementary 30-minute weight loss consultation, contact Dr. Kristin Heslop at 402-438-0108 or nannerl123@yahoo.com.

Up Next:  What Happened to My Willpower?

Tis More Blessed to Receive than to Give

There’s something to be said for the skill of receiving complements. 

Complement:  “That’s a great dress!”

Response:  “Oh, this old thing?  It’s a million years old.  I really need to go shopping.”

Or

Complement:  “I love your haircut!”

Response:  “Really?  Can’t y0u tell the bangs are uneven?”

Or

Complement:  “You have such amazing children.”

Response:  “Yeah, but they’re driving me crazy!”

Why do we, on so many occasions, diminish the complements we’re given?  Is it that we don’t want to appear arrogant, conceited, or narcissistic?  Is it because we think, by responding with a self-deprecating remark,  we’re being humble?  Is it because we’ve been told not to think too highly of ourselves?  Is it because we, as women,  spend so much time acknowledging, praising, nurturing, and caring for others that it is hard for us to allow ourselves to be cared for with kind expressions of appreciation?

This is a phenomenon I’ve noticed a lot recently, and it seems that many of us find it difficult to receive a complement.  So often, throughout the course of my life, I’ve been given a complement and felt compelled to argue with it, deny it, or reject it in some way.  And what I’m discovering is that when we diminish a complement with our words, it’s as if we have taken a beautiful gift and tossed it in the trash.  Someone has taken the time and the effort to praise us in some way, and when we demean the complement in a misguided effort to be humble, we put up blocks and barriers to receiving more goodness (and more complements) in our lives.  

In a way, I think this is related to our inability to complement ourselves.  I think it’s related to our inability to recognize the fantastic magnificence of our lives.  I think it’s related to our view of ourselves and our lives and our worthiness and sense of deservingness.  I think it’s related our being more comfortable in the realm of self-deprecation than in the realm of self-appreciation.

I have a friend who is beginning to focus on what is right in her life.  The more she focusses on celebrating her life, the more she has to celebrate.  As she’s learning to view her life as amazing, wonderful, and worthy of praise, she’s becoming skilled in the art of accepting a complement.  Over the past few years, I’ve seen her move from the “This old thing?” mentality to the simple “Thank you so much!  I like it, too!” point of view.

The next time you someone complements you, consider paying close attention to your response.  

Do you instantly denying the complement in some way?  Do you find yourself wanting to argue with the person who complemented you?  Do you find the complement difficult to hear?  

Or do you find yourself simply saying, “Thank you”?

Up Next:  How to Get What You Want

When People Make Comments About Your Food Choices

I ate a brownie the other day.

And this event elicited a comment from one of the people I was with.

The implication was that, since I’ve lost weight and am helping others lose weight as well, I should not be eating brownies.

(If I had deprived myself of that brownie, there’s a possibility that, after this meeting, I would have driven directly to the grocery store, bought an entire pan of brownies from the bakery department, and eaten them all in my car on the way home.  However, in the meeting, I chose not to deprive myself of that brownie.  Instead, I enjoyed it, relished it, took pleasure in it, and felt grateful that someone had taken the time to prepare it.)

The comment about my brownie-eating activity, to me,  felt like sabotage.  It didn’t feel good.  But it did get me to thinking about what I really wanted.  The comment, which was something I did not want, pointed me in the direction of something I did want.  And what I want is what most people who deal with weight issues want.

We want support.  We want encouragement.  We want recognition and acknowledgement for our efforts and for our successes and for our choices.  

For me, allowing myself to thoroughly enjoy that brownie in the presence of others was victory.  If I had eaten a pan of brownies in the isolation of my car, that would have felt like failure.  

For me, taking pleasure in the warm, chewy, chocolaty, brownie goodness was a cause to celebrate.  Eating cold brownies from a grocery store would have caused me to revert to old patterns of thinking.

And sometimes, when the people in our lives don’t provide us with the support we think we want in the manner in which we want it, it becomes important for us to celebrate ourselves.  It becomes important for us to encourage ourselves.  It becomes important to turn up the volume on saying kind things to ourselves, on treatingourselves well, and on loving ourselves.

If you feel that, on occasion, you encounter sabotage, look that sabotage as a clear and direct signal for you to treat yourself like the precious creature you are.

Up Next:  ‘Tis More Blessed to Receive than to Give

Forgiveness and Weight Loss

I’m good at holding a grudge.  And I’m not so good at forgiving.

If I feel someone has irritated me, or hurt me, or wronged me, or betrayed my trust, or disappointed me in some way, viewing that person with kind, compassionate, and loving thoughts can present somewhat of a challenge.  Forgiving others definitely does not come naturally to me.  Blessing those I find irritating can be difficult.  Wishing them well seems out of my grasp.   And feeling love toward those who have hurt me is usually not my first response. 

I have a hard time forgiving others.  

But sometimes I think the person I have the hardest time forgiving is myself.

Many of us who are overweight or who have been overweight have lived lives filled with pain.  But the ironic thing is that the deepest pain we experience usually is not inflicted on us from the outside world.  The pain we experience on a soul-level seems to comes from our internal mindset about our bodies and our lives and who we are as human beings.   We betray ourselves and our bodies through what we tell ourselves about our faces, our legs, our stomachs, our breasts, our hair, our skin, our bottoms, our arms. . .   While our external world may be unkind, our internal world can be ruthless.

And so the question becomes, how can I forgive myself for treating myself unkindly?  I recently came across an idea in Marianne Williamson’s A Return to Love which suggests that, when we forgive, we focus on the good, and the rest falls away.  And nowhere does this idea apply more than to weight loss.  As we focus on the good, or as I like to call it, the beauty in our physical bodies, the rest (or the weight that is no longer needed) falls away.  As we focus on the joy and delight and pleasure and goodness of being alive in this amazing human body, the weight comes off.  As we focus on loving and adoring every inch of our precious physical vehicle, we shift our view of who we are and what we deserve.  As we focus on the amazing sensual pleasures in  simply being alive in our body, we become more motivated to cherish it and love it in ways that feel wonderful to us.

If you feel like you may be struggling with losing a few pounds (or more), consider, for the next week, focussing on “the good” in your body.  If you feel like the weight will never come off, consider cherishing and loving your physical self in ways you’ve never done before.  Forgiveness is really about focussing on the good.  As you focus on the goodness of your amazing human body, forget about numbers.  Forget about the number on the scale, or the number on your jean’s waistband, or the number of pills you take.   And instead, remember and acknowledge the the truth of who you are.  Focus on the good.  You will be releasing thoughts (and weight) which no longer serve you.  

Up Next:  When People Make Comments About Your Food

"Exercise Is Such a Drag!"

If you’re anything like I was, these words might express your predominant feelings about exercise.

And believe me, I understand.  I so understand.  And I totally relate.  

I remember being one of the rounder little girls in elementary school.  I remember going to gym class in first or second grade, and having to climb a rope.  (To this day, I don’t see why it’s important for a first grader to climb a rope.)  And I was the worst rope climber in my class.  I couldn’t do it.  And as one of the heavier kids in grade school, I was consistently one of the last kids to be picked for any sort of team.  Then in high school, I was required to take one year of physical education, and my lack of physical coordination earned me a grade of C.

And so, for the first 45 or so years of my life, to me, exercise was a drag.  Of course, smattered along the course of these 45 years were New Year’s Resolutions, aerobics classes, Jane Fonda videos, and some intense and frustrating events on Stairmasters and in weight rooms.  But none of these experiences ever lasted very long.  None of them really took, because I told myself, time and time again, “I hate this.  Exercise is such a drag.”  Exercise was something that I knew, intellectually, was good for me, but it was something that I could never quite commit to.

Until. . . 

I made a conscious, intentional, and determined shift in my thinking.  

It wasn’t until I shifted what I said to myself about myself that I was able to move into the realm of actually enjoying moving my body.  With almost 50 pounds of excess weight on my body, I began to notice things about my physical self that I liked.  And it wasn’t easy, to begin with.  But the more I did it, the easier it got.  I began to be grateful for my legs, which allowed me to walk up a flight of stairs.  I began to be grateful for my wrists, which allowed me to grip a pen, hold a steering wheel, wash a fork, and hold a musical instrument.  I began to be grateful for my eyes, which allowed me to see beauty everywhere I looked.  I began to be grateful for my big toe, which allowed me to be mobile and balanced.

As I approved of my overweight body, and appreciated the pleasure I could experience in my overweight body, I began to want to care for it in a more loving way.  I began to want to eat more healthful food.  I began to want to move it in a way that was fun for me.  I began to set an intention of getting in the best shape of my life.

As I acknowledged all the amazing things that my body could do for me, I began to actually enjoy moving it.  I started out going for a brief walk.  Then it expanded into a longer walk.  Then it morphed into running short distances.  And then the distances increased.  And now I consider myself a distance runner.

Transformation is possible.  For me, my thoughts of “Exercise is such a drag!” morphed into “I love to run.”

The key to this?  Loving, approving, and appreciating your body, as it is right now, regardless of the number on the scale.  

Up next:  Forgiveness and Weight Loss