Schedule, schedule, schedule

So I've decided the most difficult part of about trying to lose weight is my schedule.  The long hours are difficult, but developing a habit is even worse.  It takes time to make a behavior a habit.  For someone who is not big on exercise the exercise itself can't become a habit at this time.  My problem is that my schedule changes every five weeks.  I get in a habit with one schedule and then it changes.    Then I don't go to work out and my eating habits degenerate.  It takes me a couple weeks to get back in the groove and then it changes again.  I can't wait until my schedule is more "normal." 

Progress Report

So the last couple weeks have not been great.  I have definitely not been working out as I should.  Need to get back into the habit.  I'm working nights now.  I arrive at 7pm and usually leave at 9am.  I am just having a hard time working out on my way home.  I'm hoping that as my sleep schedule adjusts I won't be so tired after work.  Or I might start getting up earlier once I start sleeping better. 
I have also not followed weight watchers all that well.  I'm back to doing their program and have already seen a difference.  I am just having to remind myself everyday that this is a long term goal.  Screwing up one day or even a week isn't a reason to totally give up.  It's taken me years to accumulate these bad habits and it's going to take me years (or even a lifetime) before eating healthy and portion control are habit.  I may have to think/measure/track everything I eat for the rest of my life.

Well, off to bed.  Need to try to get some more sleep :)

Equal Value

So I started this blog to talk about weight, but it's started to expand into all aspects of my life.  I am defined by my work, my weight, and often by my marital status. 
Let me start this post by saying that greatly admire all my coworkers and friends with children.  I know it is a difficult and unique challenge being a working parent.  I do not begrudge covering for them when they are on maternity leave or when they have a sick child.  I look upon it as part of normal relationships and being human.  I would do the same if someone had a sick parent, a sibling getting married, or any other major family event.  It's just something you do for other people. 

Having said all this, sometimes I feel like my life has less value because I'm single.  I've heard people say that residency wouldn't be that bad if they didn't have a family or kids.  It makes me feel like my experience has less value.  When I request a certain schedule or weekend off my request takes a backseat to those with children.  "I know you wanted such and such off, but the kids have X."  So I don't have kids, but I am still entitled to have a life.  I don't mind covering when someone has a special event, but it just doesn't make sense for every single time.

I am tired of being treated like less of a person because I don't have a husband and children.  I still have a family and friends.  I still want to spend time with loved ones.  Last year I took the most call of anyone in the residency.  This year is the only year I requested a certain order for rotations.  Every other year I had taken the schedule no one wanted.  I didn't get my request because those with families "needed" their choice.  I was discussing this with one of my attendings, who also has four children.   She told me "I know you want to be supportive of your coworkers and that makes you a good person.  But never let anyone make you feel like your life has less value just because you don't have kids."

I certainly hope that my future coworkers are supportive when I eventually have children.  I will also strive to make sure that my single coworkers know I value their time.

I hope this doesn't offend any working mothers out there, but this is a single girl's perspective on taking a frequent backseat in life.

The Blame Game

As a medical professional I am charged with caring for and educating people on their health.  Sometimes I view my weight as a hindrance, but sometimes I think people are more receptive because they can tell I know the struggle.  I also know all the excuses.
As a physician I know that food=calories=fat.  There is not arguing this equation.  Sure individuals have different metabolisms (and we can hate them for it) but the truth is if you are overweight/obese you are eating more calories than you are burning.  The concept is simple--reality might be more complicated.

So intellectually I can't say "I don't eat anything and still gain weight."  But I still have people I blame.
My mom was very skinny when she married my dad.  After kids and life she gained weight, quite a bit.  Her metabolism changed, her eating habits worsened, and she gained weight.  So growing up I had an overweight parent. 

I noticed I was gaining weight during junior high.  I remember talking to my mom about it.  She told me it was normal before puberty and after puberty, it would all magically go away.  Well, it didn't.  I remember my orthopedic surgeon making a comment on my weight gain, which was brushed off.  I remember my pediatrician talking to us, in depth, about healthy weight, weight loss, and recommending a nutritionist.  And my mom didn't do anything.  We didn't have the money for weeks and weeks of a nutritionist--although one or two meetings would not have been horrible.  She continued to tell me nothing was wrong.  I would come home for lunch during 6th grade.  She made be an entire large tombstone pizza.  When we went to McDonalds she would buy us a big mac value meal, supersized, with regular soda.  Looking back I can't believe it. 

I get very angry when I think back.  She was told multiple times that something was wrong and she kept giving me ridiculous food.  I don't take responsibility for that weight gain.  You can't expect a 11 year old to make good food choices when her parent is giving her pizza and hamburgers.  I don't know what she was thinking.  Part of it, I'm sure, was tinged with love.  She didn't want to me to feel bad about myself.  She loved me no matter by size.  I am still upset that she just ignored everything.  She got to grow up skinny and beautiful.  She is intelligent and has obtained a masters degree.  She knew better or at least should have.  Now she has totally redone her diet and lost a ton of weight, very quickly.  She's back to a size 4.  I think that makes me resent her even more.  It was easy for her to loose all that weight. 

For a long time I used that anger as an excuse and reason to avoid the issue.  I am still upset that she lacked any insight into the problem.  I can blame her for the early weight and not teaching me good eating habits.  But everything that came after, as I became a more educated adult is my fault.  Particularly in medical school and the first two years of residency I knew better.  I became the one ignoring the issue and feeding my habit.  I have learned I need to let go of that and take responsibility for myself.  People may have contributed to my weight in the past, but right now, it's on me.

One down....

This is the end of my first month of resolutions.  Worked out of a total of 14 hours and lost 10lbs.  Not bad!!!  I really feel like I'm taking it a day at a time or sometimes a single decision at a time.  I used to think that every day was all or nothing.  Either I was "good" or "bad."  And when you're bad why bother trying to be better for that day, you've already failed.  This fed back on itself and just made me more and more unhappy.  I'm not used to failing.  I have worked so hard for my professional life.  It's not perfect, but I've met every goal.  I just find it so strange that I can't get it together in my personal life.  The excuse I often used was "all my abilities were consumed by school/work."  What a load of bull.  There are plenty of people who do well professionally and have a healthy lifestyle.   I used food to reward myself, but also to punish myself.  It's not just bad food choices.  It's thinking I'm not worth making good ones.  Why should I bother to take care of myself outside of work because I don't have value as a person outside of work?  Well, I've decided I'm a daughter, sister, and friend. I may not be perfect, but I can be better.  And even if I'm not perfect--sometimes jealous, angry, shallow, or awkward--I'm still worth taking care of myself.

Two person assembly required---a challenge for the single girl

In my continued pursuit of good health and the ultimate goal walking/running a 5k this year, I just bought a treadmill.  I had a friend and her truck help me pick it up from the store.  After she left, I opened the box and faced the phrase: "two person assembly required."  Can I just say as a single girl that is perhaps the most annoying phrase. 

Someone once asked me why I didn't have a real Christmas tree.  There are a few reasons--cost, ease, convenience, allergies, and being single.  It takes two people to set up a Christmas tree.  You can't put a Christmas tree in a stand with one person.  It's a two person job.  I have moved, put Christmas lights up, hung pictures, and changed a tire by myself.  However, I have no idea how one person can put up a Christmas tree.  All my friends have their own families, so I'm the odd girl out.  Whatever, I like my fake, single person assembly required tree.

So I open this treadmill with all these good intentions and see two person assembly required.  This time, I said f*** it.  It took me an hour, a few bruises, and some ingenuity, but this single girl assembled that damn treadmill all by herself!!!

Now I just have to use the thing :)

Moving On

So I've started again this year.  So far I have been very good about working out and eating better.  One day at a time and sometimes one choice at a time.  I chose to start when I was on vacation because I would have more time.  It's hard to start a new healthy habit (which does take time) when you're already exhausted from work.  So worked hard during vacation.  Felt good and saw some results.  So imagine my surprise when Monday, after getting up at 5am for work and getting home at 7pm, I was looking forward to working out.  I think this is maybe the first time I have ever felt excited to workout.