image by geishaboy500

Nearly two years ago now, I accomplished one of the biggest feats in my adult life. I successfully lost 100 lbs. And here’s the kicker, the part that makes me sound like some infomercial quack selling snake oil supplements—I did it without significant pain and suffering.

Lately, at 7 months pregnant, I have been feeling frustrated by my limitations while at the same time driven by those lovely nesting hormones to make a better world and a better life for the babe I am about to bring into the world and his charming older sisters. 

All I can see lately are the things I am not doing well. I look at my lovely vintage bike, my anniversary present from my darling husband, and despair that things I could easily do last summer, like riding my bike or walking instead of driving, now range from difficult to an exercise in insanity. I end up driving everywhere. I peruse aisles of the garden center and reflect with sadness that this year’s garden will have to be a scaled back, simpler version of last year’s. My quest to eat a more local and sustainable diet, difficult anyway at this time of year when last years preserved bounty is running low and nothing new is growing yet, seems half-hearted in comparison to other times. 

As I lay awake at 3:00AM this morning battling heartburn and fondly recalling the days I didn’t feel quite so much like a beached whale, I thought about my weight loss journey and how it the lessons I learned from that experience correlate to the other big changes I want to make in my life.

When I first started my weight loss project I had a brand new baby girl, a colicky one at that, and a very active 15 month old. Initially I felt much as I do now, hampered by so many obstacles that the road to victory seemed nearly impassable. But my energy was flagging, I knew, in part because of the extra weight and I was determined that I would get healthy. I had gained a lot during my back-to-back pregnancies and I knew the only way to feel better was to lose the weight. 

Prior to this, every diet I had attempted had been of the rigid, form-my-life-to-this-plan type. I’d set out with lofty goals of eating nothing but tofu and vegetables and exercising an hour a day and I’d crash and burn a month later when the exhilaration I get from an initial rush of self denial wore off. This time it was obvious to me that, even if I had wanted to, that kind of hard-core approach wasn’t an option. 

The first thing I did was to stop focusing on what I couldn’t do and started focusing on what I could do. At that time, I couldn’t find long stretches of time I could easily devote to exercise, so I stole time here and there. 15 minutes while both kids were sleeping, a 15-minute walk when my husband got home from work, some crunches done while the kids played around me. I set my minimum exercise requirement at 10 minutes a day for the sake of building a routine. I could almost always talk myself into 10 minutes and once I had done 10 I frequently did more. 

Next, I set about seducing myself to health. I bought and made healthy, easy to prepare foods that actually appealed to me. I treated myself, and I made sure to look at it as a treat, to things like lovely ripe tomatoes or strawberries from the farmer’s market, salad mix from my urban homesteader friends, good cheeses and fresh breads from the bakery. The kind of stuff that makes junk food seem like the unappealing garbage it is. I sliced lemons from the backyard lemon tree into my water and drank it out of one of my pretty crystal goblets. I garnished my salads with pretty edible flowers and indulged in the occasional square of dark chocolate. As the quality of my food increased I found I craved more of the right stuff, the tomatoes and the salads. The flavor was so intense, so inviting. I also found that I ate less of more fattening foods like butter, cheese and chocolate because a little packed a powerful punch.

Finally, I made a habit of forgiving myself. Mistakes happen and long-term changes, if they are going to be successful, have to ultimately find their place among the other important things in life.  The key is to keep coming back to center. For instance, the night we took Bella to the emergency room, I had a dinner of Cheetos and soda from the vending machine, but the next night we were back to normal, healthy food. It’s OK to put even worthy causes on the backburner for a little while if you need to focus on something else. Needless guilt only distracts from the tasks at hand. 

It occurs to me that these lessons could help me a lot in my current situation. Maybe this isn’t the year for biking, but maybe, when the weather is nice and I am craving some fresh air, I could walk to the store. No guilt, no pressure, just an enjoyable stroll in the spring air.  Maybe we can cut back on outside commitments and just stay home more, laying out on the deck and enjoying the fresh air, or skipping rocks in the pond.

Maybe this isn’t the year I plant a crazy variety of veggies and finally figure out a way to make my husband like sautéed greens, but maybe we can enjoy picnics with our homegrown tomatoes and farmer’s market cheeses or enjoy some homemade meusli for an al fresco breakfast. 

There are lots of things I can’t do, but so many more I can—like finding great thrifted stuff for the new babe or making cute skirts from vintage fabric for the girls. Maybe it’s OK to let this amazing time in my life be what it wants to be instead of feeling guilty that it isn’t something else.