Thursday 26 February 2009

Waiting in the Airport

My ideal blogging location involves soothing music and an ample supply of caffiene. Presently I am sitting in a terminal in Pearson Airport - no coffee, no music, no comfort. Not my ideal location. The persistent sound of buzzers and beepers, combined with the drone of radio static is keeping me awake. It's probably best that I stay awake - would be hell to miss my flight because I nodded off. As the Brits say, I am knackered!
I am on my way to Vancouver for a meet and greet this evening (Yes, I flew to Toronto to fly to Vancouver - makes a lot of sense, right?). Yes, somewhere in my infinite wisdom I decided that I would be coherent enough to make professional conversation this evening. At the moment, I am struggling to string together these sentences...The only solution is going to involve ALOT of coffee.
Nope. This isn't a good blogging location.....

Saturday 21 February 2009

Commitment a la Starbucks. Again.

I’m back at Starbucks for the first time since Sunday. Yes – I went four solid days without Starbuck’s coffee. I feel that I have successfully helped put a dent in capitalism, and the mass production of caffeinated beverages. I would love to shun Starbucks – I do see the ethical dilemma associated with this sort of establishment (fair trade coffee, my ass!) Fortunately for Starbucks I have zero willpower. You would think that after this long on the dieting trail, and after ten years of university I would have a better developed sense of willpower. I don’t. I only successfully accomplish things when closely monitored. Seriously, it’s worse than it sounds. I have to encourage myself to complete emails, fill out paperwork, read, etc. I don’t mean moderate encouragement; it is a huge challenge to focus my brain on things that I see no point in. Anything that I have no direct interest in is highly unlikely to be done. How I managed to complete three degrees is beyond me (I was extremely interested in only about 5% of the classes I took; I was moderately interested about 30%; the rest were just filler!). Oh but wait – I didn’t really complete three degrees. Lakehead is potentially allowing me to graduate with a BSc in April. That is downgraded from the HBSc that I was originally enrolled in. Yeah – my thesis. I figured it was safer to graduate with the BSc before Lakehead changed the degree requirements, and I ended up with nothing.

I think Starbucks is mocking me. Four days, and an assortment of coffee cup options, and I have gotten the same coffee cup that I had on Sunday. The one about commitment. It might be a sign. Or maybe it is meant to be irony. Or maybe it is testing my paranoia. Either way, I’m not amused. I could boycott Starbucks entirely – leave behind the pretentiousness of sitting in a coffeehouse, typing away on a computer…but then again, sitting in Starbucks, for as seemingly pretentious as it is, makes me feel as though I am accomplishing something. Plus it justifies me wearing a pashmina scarf (Thunder Bay and Pashmina don’t really go together!)

I have just applied to the University of London (I apparently have an addiction to this UK thing). Seriously, love to learn - what I choose to learn . I am sort of like my Australian Shepherd; we joke that he is stupid (cruel, I know). He is far from stupid though – he is a selective learner. If something isn’t in his best interest to learn, he won’t do it. It took 2 years to train shake-a-paw, but in less than 2 weeks he had learned how to open our back door and let himself out (on his own, unprompted, without encouragement). The program that I have applied to in London at least gives me flexibility (I will be able to take classes that I am interested in!).

So about this University of London issue. As I’ve mentioned I also have a spot on hold at the University of Liverpool for graduate studies. If London accepts me I will take a temporary reprieve from Liverpool in order to pursue the program at London. So – two UK universities – I am sort of surprised by the process of applying to English schools. In Canada, universities expect transcripts, proof of qualifications, etc (I know, because I have applied to enough universities in Canada and the US….). The UK has its own separate technique for university applications. London wanted me to send them my degrees – the ORIGINALS! Who in their right mind, is going to throw a $25,000 piece of paper in the international mail??? I don’t think so! Oh, and then throw in that additional gamble that the university won’t loose it (because universities NEVER, EVER loose paperwork!)

Facing an issue of trust, I went to Lakehead to see if I could get a registered copy of my degree. After being confronted by blank stares in the Admissions Office (I’m used to the typical Lakehead blank stare), I was informed that you can’t get copies of a degree. Basically you spend 4-5 years of your life, and $20,000-$30,000 for a single piece of low quality paper. I don’t really understand why you can’t be given a copy – it’s not like I am going to go out and claim that I have 4 HBAs in Anthropology, and 5 Bachelor of Education degrees. I’m not suddenly going to be Leanne D. HBA HBA HBA B.Ed B.Ed B.Ed.

So no. I am not sending the original copies of my degrees in the mail.

Lakehead was nice enough to allow me to photocopy my existing degrees, which they then stamped as being “official” copies. Thanks.

London also wanted me to write a letter explaining why I wanted to be allowed into the program. Basically a Statement of Intent. But wait. I couldn’t type it. No. I had to handwrite it!! This proved to be a challenge. No spellchecker. No Edit—Undo. No backspace. One mistake, and it was back to square one (White Out doesn’t look good on university applications).

I am not really sure the rationale for handwriting a letter. Maybe it proves that my first language really is English – it would look suspicious if I suddenly started writing in Arabic or Mandarin characters. Not typing also ensures that letters are not typed in Webdings - it is highy inconvienent when you go through an entire letter having accidently used the wrong font oops. I have lost most of my handwriting skills – I ended up printing the letter (in my lovely teacher printing, which is still fairly bad). Needless to say, London may assume that an articulate 6 year old wrote it. As a side note, I did teach a handwriting lesson in London, and I found one more skill that I definitely need to work on before ever attempting that again (F is a b*tch).

I’m sort of hoping that London doesn’t request my transcript (since I couldn’t produce the original copies of my degrees!) – I’m not exactly pleased with my disjointed academic history. It also have to fess up to those two deferrals – the dastardly things!

And then Liverpool. Liverpool was happy with receiving copies of everything! In fact, they were much more interested in my employment history than my academic history. My employment history is the one thing more disjointed than my academic history. The UK has this fascination with 3 year accountability (“document everything you have done over the course of the last three years, leave no gaps – if you must leave a gap, explain why” – they are less than amused when you explain a gap by writing “jail term” into the blank space).

So now it is back to waiting; I hate waiting. Unfortunately I sent my documents in the regular mail, so I will be waiting for awhile. If London decides they want my originals, I will personally hand deliver them next month…now, thanks to my short attention span, I am going to listen to the A.R. Rahman compilation, and satisfy my newly found craving for Punjabi Electronica…ya….

Thursday 19 February 2009

Talking Fat #7: Part 2


Admittedly, some days I hate this. The past couple of weeks have been really hard again. I am an emotional eater – the more stressed I am, the more sugar I like. And the past few weeks have been stressful…Plus the inundation of Valentine’s Day chocolate has been difficult to ignore. Needless to say I have been calorie splurging for the past couple of days – ok, for the majority of the past week. And as it turns out, the “weight maintenance” porridge/oatmeal I have been eating, isn’t the healthiest of options. So yes, the scale has gone up a couple of pounds, and I am not pleased, but I'm not overly worried.

I have consistently had weight declines (minus the normal fluctuations that a woman experiences at certain times of the month), so having an increase is a bit disheartening. I had basically stopped calorie splurging because of that nagging mentality “every day that I take off, is two extra days tacked on”. Doesn’t it suck that calories are so easy to accumulate, but take double the effort to burn? Unfortunately, there comes a point that your body needs a break from the hardcore diet insanity.

Even with the gain, I do recognize the necessity that I am coming to a point that I need to stop obsessing. My body is kind of telling me to f*ck off (ya, I said it), and there is a point that you need to let it adjust.

Now for the educational portion of this drivel. The one thing that drives me crazy is seeing the number of people who have become dependent on places like McDonald’s, Wendy’s, etc. While a lot of fast food places claim to have become “healthy”, people really need to take a closer look at the caloric intakes of their favourite items. A lot of those meal combos contain the majority of calories that a person should consume for a day - in a single meal! The reality is, most individuals have a combo for lunch and then a full dinner; meaning they have exceeded their daily caloric necessities. Combine fast food with our sedentary lifestyles, and you can begin to understand why so many North Americans and Europeans are heading towards obesity.



I have worked in a school since 1999. In that time, I have been shocked by what I have seen students consuming as apart of their daily meals. It is now common to see kids eating a fast food over the lunch hour. Then combine this with chocolate, candy, icing, etc and the perception of a well-rounded lunch is achieved. I am actually a huge advocate for banning junk food in schools, and was quite in favour of banning items like Mr. Noodles. To read more about schools that have successfully banned bad foods, click on the following link http://www.cnn.com/2008/HEALTH/12/11/sugar.free.school/index.html.



My present gripe is with Starbucks. I was fairly shocked by the calorie content of a lot of the food items at Starbucks. My favourite item is the ginger molasses cookie; it tips the scale with 400 calories. My favourite beverage is a strawberries and crème blended cream – with whip it is a mere 500 calories. Combined, these two items though a tasty treat, are about half of my daily caloric intake!! And these two items certainly don’t fill me up for any length of time. I also like the blueberry muffins – they are only 450 calories…ha! Luckily my Café Americano is only around 20 calories. It has to balance somewhere...

So my advice to anyone who is dieting, is to go online and do a nutritional check. Some times it is difficult to find out caloric values (for instance, Starbucks is a pain in the butt; they leave it to their individual stores to post nutritional data for food – which means it doesn’t get done; I have had to use Google to find out the truth!). Again, I recommend fitday.com to find out caloric values.

One way to tell whether the food you are consuming is good or not is based on the consistency of your excrement (poop, crap, etc). Yup. That’s right. Unless you have other health issues that impact your bowels, your poop is a good indicator of your diet. As I am not into the habit of discussing poop, you can Google it (though I’ve never tried). Or you can try a simple experiment – tomorrow, eat a ton of junk…see what happens the next morning. The following couple of days, eat healthy – and notice the difference. I took a Medical Anthropology course a few years ago; we discussed the consistency of poop – highly entertaining.

Anyways, if you don’t mind, I am going to finish chugging my double chocolately chip blended cream, eat my ginger molasses cookie, and wallow in my guilt.

Monday 16 February 2009

Talking Fat #7: More Calories Part 1




**This is another split entry**

Pic: Europe 2004**


This “dieting” thing has gone on far longer than I ever expected. As mentioned, I had seriously underestimated my starting weight. An ordeal that I expected to be over within ten months, has now dragged into month fifteen. I anticipate that I still have another five (plus) months to go. The deceptive part, is that even if I am “finished” in six months, I am not truly finished. This is a permanent lifestyle change; six months down the road I will have to start worrying about maintaining the weight loss – not just about how to kick start it.

The problem with weight loss for the clinically obese, is that there is always a substantial risk that the weight will pack back on. I don’t really understand the reasons for this. It is almost like our bodies suddenly became programmed to store additional fat; as soon as the opportunity materializes, our bodies become highly opportunistic. The larger problem is that the weight gain is never equivalent to the loss; it is usually accompanied by an additional 50 or more pounds. I have already realized that I have sluggish metabolism – at 30, a woman’s metabolism declines even more – so in 2 years my metabolism will clinically dead.

Unfortunately I have been down this road before. As a teenager I was fat – after my dad died of an apparent heart attack (he was obese, with high blood pressure), I had a wake up call. During my last two years of high-school, I went through a substantial period of weight loss, just by cleaning up my eating habits and working out constantly. I think I was more hardcore back then – cleaning up my eating habits was actually a literal period of starvation. I started this present ordeal by cutting back to 1000 calories a day. In high school I was eating far less than that on a daily basis. I worked out a lot, and it became a sickness. I really had no idea what I was doing, but it worked (or so I thought). The weight was pouring off, and I was finally getting the body that I had wanted. I didn’t matter how I did it, just as long as I got it done. Let’s face it though – 13 years ago, I don’t think we knew as much about eating healthy as we do now. Most people really did believe that low calorie diets were the only way to loose weight. That’s why the mentality is so engrained in us now.

At around the same time I knew several others who were going through the same ordeal. I had a co-worker who was using Weight Watchers, a friend who was using weight loss pills, another friend who was using starvation…and so it goes…It was all about getting to the end goal the fastest way possible. We each considered it healthier to be thin, with little consideration as to the unhealthy ways that we were achieving our goals.

Now here is the thing: we all gained our weight back. And then some…

None of us considered the long term aspects of weight loss. Basically speaking, which ever method you use to loose weight, is the method that you will use for the rest of your life in order to maintain that weight loss. Maybe there is a point at which you can splurge for prolonged periods; maybe your body does hit homeostasis after awhile; mine never did.

This is one of my biggest fears; I wake up daily with that gnawing fear of weight gain. I would love to go back to the freedom with which I used to eat. I would love to not work out tomorrow and maybe the next. Or get up in the morning, and not have to plan out my caloric intake for the day. Oh, and I would love to not feel guilty if I decide to not work out, or eat chocolate....TBC...

Sunday 15 February 2009

100 Posts :-p

free glitter text and family website at FamilyLobby.com

....yes, I just cheated on the 100th post...

*but at least I committed to something*

**btw - there is a guestbook at the bottom of the page - sign it :-p

The Starbucks Commitment

Now that Christmas is over, and stock is fully depleted, Starbucks has reverted back to its “advice cups”. Now keep in mind, Starbuck’s has been in Christmas mode since October. I remember walking into my neighbourhood Starbucks prior to Halloween and being confronted by red holiday cups, and various Christmas desserts. Not that I am complaining about the Christmas goodies – I love sugar and fattening foods. Starbucks takes the cake on fattening foods. As I have mentioned, many UK retailers decided that beginning Christmas in October would combat the negative impacts of the Credit Crunch. Starbuck’s was no exception. When my Pimlico coffeehouse decked the halls in October, I was a little disgusted. Not that I dislike Christmas – I am just not a fan of overkill.

Ok – so the advice cups. Today’s advice is pertinent to my present life… “The irony of commitment is that it’s deeply liberating – in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.”
Well that’s bull. Commitment has never liberated me.

First off, I am not opposed to receiving advice from my venti Café Americano. It’s deeper than a fortune cookie. I spend enough time and money here that I should be able to get something for free. Unfortunately topics of commitment are a bit of sore spot right now.

I think it has been fully established that I have commitment issues. I cringe at even having the word mentioned in my presence. I was ok with London, until I was presented with a contract that forced me to commit for 6 months – that was the straw that ultimately broke the camel’s back. Relationships? Would rather not do them. Long term job commitment? Not happy about it. Committing to a lease? No thanks.

There is still this part of me that refuses to grow up and realize that I can’t live according to my own plan forever. A friend suggested that I might not be cut out for a conventional job; there is a good possibility. The problem is that living according to my own plan doesn’t pay a lot of bills. Unfortunately I don’t know how to overcome this issue.

I committed to university; but it was an inadvertent commitment – I certainly didn’t think that I would spend 10 years pursuing higher education. Had I known, I likely wouldn’t have lasted. I committed to weight loss – but that was more a vanity thing, and again – I didn’t think this whole process would take so long. I am seeing someone – but it’s not a formal relationship – we see each other because we choose to (or at least that’s how I rationalize this non-committed-committed-non-relationship).

Maybe it is true – that “to commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.” My head is getting in the way of a lot of stuff. Yet I still see commitment as settling; it’s the moment that you become so exhausted with pursuing change, that you finally give in to sameness. Humans are inherently lazy. Commitment favours laziness. Laziness also favour monogamy, and if you want my views on monogamy, I urge you to read my Monogamy blog entry from June or July of 2008. Really, if you know me or have read my blog, my views on monogamy shouldn't shock you.

So really…all I am saying is that I hate my coffee cup today.

Thursday 12 February 2009

Moments of Reflection

Since self reflection seems to be a popular theme in blogs, I figured I would join the crowd.

I wish….

…I had left home at 18 …
…I had gone to Western…
…I had gone to Jordan and done my field training…
…I had never opened the email from a recruiter in London; it would have saved me so much stress…
…I had never gone to teacher’s college; that would have also saved me a ton of stress…
…I had gone to do my Master’s degree when I had the chance…
…I hadn’t fallen for a man across the ocean…
…I had not spent so much money on needless pursuits…
…that I had lost the weight 5 years ago instead of now…
…that I hadn’t gotten dogs; too much attachment makes it difficult to leave…
…that I wasn’t sitting across from someone who’s belly is hanging out of her skin tight hoodie…
…that I was better with commitment, and would commit to something…
…that I hadn’t lost my motivation and began to stagnate…
…that I had never started working on a thesis; it will forever bother me that it isn’t finished, and yet I will likely never complete it…
…that I hadn’t grown up in Thunder Bay, Ontario…
…that I had the motivation to go and get a trade, and fully accept that my education is useless…
…that I was more outgoing and less of a home body…
…that I had done an international exchange program in university; I desperately want my international experience…
…that I had done language training; I love to learn and should have embraced it…
…that I wasn’t scared to do what it is that I want to do…
…that I had learned to look at things from the one-day-at-a-time perspective, not on year long scales…
…that I didn’t get attached; once I get attached I can’t handle the finality of becoming unattached; maybe that’s the product of loss…
…there wasn’t a recession; that millions of people weren’t out of work; that there were clear cut directions, and that someone had all of the answers…


What if I hadn’t done of these things that I guess I regret?
- I’d never have met many of the people I now know; maybe I would have met other people, but who knows…
- Had I gone to Western, I would never have gone to half of the places I’ve been; I’d never have backpacked and found out I love it; I’d never have been to Newfoundland, spent drunken Spring Breaks in Cancun, and likely never acquired a taste for tequila…
- I wouldn’t have half of the stories that I have; it’s been a bumpy ride, but it’s been an entertaining ride…
- I’d never of had my New Orleans experience; it was good, it was bad, but it was growth…
- I wouldn’t be sitting here right now, watching a junkie with slush stained pants, search for her next caffeine hit…
- I’d never have learned to put emphasis on internal beauty rather than physical beauty; when you are fat you learn not to judge…

Not everyone can claim they had the option to take two very distinct paths. Almost eleven years ago, I was presented with the two paths – Western or Lakehead.

Had I gone to Western, things would be very different now. I would not have had half of the experiences I’ve had. I would have had other experiences…

Had I gone to Western, money would have been far too tight to travel, and I would never have learned life experiences – everything would have been confined to a book. I don’t believe that book knowledge is essential – life knowledge is far more important. That is also why I do not put much emphasis on academic education.

Had I gone to Western, I likely would never have majored in Anthropology, and never realized how much I love culture – maybe I would have, but it is doubtful.

Had I gone to Western, I would have realized how much is actually out there, in terms of career options and life opportunities; I may have learned how to pursue those options; the problem with Lakehead is being mainstreamed into very narrow topics

Had I gone to Western I would have learned to live on my own; that’s the big one; I wouldn’t be struggling at 28 to leave this city; it has become me. I will never reach my potential in this city, but it is now home. I am becoming far too ‘alright’ with never reaching my potential. I am becoming what I used to loath; or maybe I’m becoming an adult.

Can I regret never having gone to Western? Yes, on the surface I do because I would have learned how to be Leanne.

What about teacher’s college? What if I had never gone? That would have solved so many issues right now – I would never have tried to get a visa to go the UK, I would never have allowed myself to feel for someone, never have allowed myself to form some sort of attachment – oh and debt – I wouldn’t be nearly in the debt that I am now…

My thesis – I am coming to terms with the fact that I will likely never finish it. I hate my thesis but simply because of the sheer boredom that it produces, and the lack of direction that I have. Yet, I know that it will always drive me crazy that I am not finished it so eventually I will likely drive myself to complete it.

England is like my thesis. I could easily not go back to England, and give up teaching altogether. But in the back of my mind it will drive me crazy that I never finished the experience. My mind tells me to give it up; my heart isn’t ready.

England doesn’t have to be indefinite; neither does teaching…

Then there is that moment that loneliness creeps in, and the world ends….and that moment seems to take forever…

And then I wish I could see life one day at a time…

Don’t regret what you did do, only what you didn’t do…
Unfortunately what you didn’t do is so closely intertwined with what you did do. Somewhere along the way, you have to regret both…

Every day is spent in regret, contemplating what I should do – so much time goes to this that nothing is done…

I have read on numerous occasions that you do not truly understand yourself until you are about 26 (that’s also why people shouldn’t get married before 26). Apparently I’m behind…

I wish that life was somehow easier; but don’t we all?

Saturday 7 February 2009

London Sooner or Later

Ok. So first off – I have been answering the same questions on a regular basis. Not surprisingly they all correspond to London. So let me settle the score. I will be returning to London – likely soon.
Two weeks ago I was supposed to fly back overseas. The night before my departure, feeling an overwhelming amount of anxiety, I decided to miss my flight. One more donation to Air Canada. Lovely. Unfortunately, I keep recalling the anxiety I felt during the last go, and am now psyching myself out for my return. It’s like that horrible memory that just keeps rearing it’s ugly head – I’m sure this time will be completely different, but what if it isn’t? After a long conversation with my new recruiter, it was mutually decided that I should take more time to figure this whole situation out. It was a good decision – returning to London under those circumstances, with the amount of doubt that I was feeling, would have ultimately broken me.
So two weeks later, I am starting to dread the return (again). I don’t want to go back – to teaching. London, yes. Teaching in London – no. Unfortunately there is a recession, which means a lack of jobs. So that puts me back at square one. A recession sort of seals my fate – I have to go back and teach. Lovely.
That doesn’t mean that it is the end of the road though. I’ve applied to two separate university programs – one in international relations & development and one in international human resources. Ultimately I can’t go to school without the income that teaching provides. It is an evil reality. My other new found reality is that I need to learn – I might be addicted to education. After visiting the Athabasca University website nearly daily for the past month, I have decided to avoid registering for a needless course and actually apply my interest (and money) towards attaining a new credential (that will likely not put my any closer to a job, but like I said, I need to learn). Maybe having something to exercise my mind will also help me to stay in London. Or maybe I’m delusional. That’s more likely the real answer.
Most people would *smartly* give up by this point. There is something that keeps drawing me back to London. I am not finished with the experience, and I haven’t ended it on my own terms yet. I see the benefits of having an international experience, in terms of both professional and personal growth. Plus I want to go to Morocco, Malta, Tunisia, etc, etc, etc, and the best way to do that is to work in London. Travelling Leanne always wins.

Thursday 5 February 2009

Talking Fat #6: A Tale of Two Scales




As I’ve mentioned, I spent nearly eight months in complete ignorance of my weight. In retrospect that was probably a good thing. Had I known my starting weight, I likely would have driven myself crazy. I guess I am still shocked by what I likely weighed when I started. I never felt that overwhelmingly obese. Actually, about a week ago I found out the BMI of a 5’5 female weighing 300 pounds – I was politely told by a website that I was “extremely obese”. Thanks. Ok, so it hurts to hear, but it’s true – I was.

Having been active, and unimpeded by my weight, I just never felt like an ‘extremely obese’ person. Except on a plane – in a plane seat, I felt like a beached whale. In order to avoid embarrassment, I sucked it in so I never had to ask for a seat belt extension. I was riding dangerously close to extension territory though. Other than those ill fated plane trips, I was a thin person stuck in the body of an ‘extremely obese’ person.
During the initial weight loss, I actually took guidance from my clothes to the degree of my success. Starting at a size 24-26, it seemed to take no time at all to get down to a size 18. When I hit 18, it was like a mini party – I swore (and still do) that I would never cross that 20 threshold again.

Ignorant bliss can only last for so long. In July 2008, I finally had to let the walls come *shattering* down. After a heated discussion with the guy I am presently seeing, I knew I had to find out the real number (don’t worry, he’s supportive – I was being the difficult one!). But here is the problem – weight loss, especially extreme weight loss, is a highly emotional battle. There are times that you feel as though you are going nowhere. There are the moments that the fight is just too much to deal with, and the body and mind enter into a state of emotional exhaustion. In July I really thought I was well below 200 pounds. I had to be. I figured I was close to my initial goal of 180 pounds (which was actually supposed to have been crossed in April 2008).

I hated our bathroom scale – a relic that is actually ten years away from being classified as an archaeological artefact. So the following day I stumbled into Walmart (good old Walmart). Apparently scales have changed in the forty years – I was confronted by a number of models, each with fancy gadgets and various programmable features. Since my goal was strictly to weigh myself, and not to program it to play movies, make margaritas, or reach lunar orbit, I finally settled on a basic digital model. Hell, I thought digital was pretty high-tech.

So that night was the grand unveiling – finally finding out the result of 8 months of hard work and emotional upheaval….
And then there was the shock that followed…
Ya. So as it turned out I didn’t weigh 180 pounds. I didn’t weight 200 pounds. Noooo…I was still over 210 pounds (and I’m not saying by how much). Now by July, I had already gone down a bunch of sizes….huh…surely it had to be wrong.
So I tried our old, archaeological specimen scale. And it had the exact same weight. huh. Not good.
I’m not going to claim that the fallout from this discovery was pretty. I’m also not going to claim that I handled it like a trooper. Oh no. I certainly did not handle it well. But that is when I knew that my starting weight had been well over what I had expected. WELL OVER (with emphasis). There were tears. There was stress and anxiety, and that nagging voice in the back of my mind that kept saying “You aren’t finished yet, not by a long shot!”
I am the first one to tell people not to live by the scale while they are dieting. You can’t. It’s too much of a mind game. For instance, I know that my weight naturally fluctuates by at least 10 pounds on a monthly basis. One day you step on the scale, and it reads 5 pounds heavier than it did the previous day. That little shock is then followed by an emotional breakdown. The longer you are on this path, the harder it is to accept those moments.

As a result of that initial weigh-in shock, I did live by the scale for quite awhile. Every day, multiple times a day, I would check the number. There was method to my madness though – the whole reason my weight got out of control was because I had quit weighing myself in 1999. Now I must never let my nerves get the better of me. Even if the reality is too difficult to deal with, it is better to know than to return to blissful ignorance. While in London, my one splurge purchase was a scale – I had to know that my weight wasn’t going back up (especially since I was living off sandwiches, and Tesco sandwiches are like the holy Mecca of unhealthy – thanks mayo)

A couple of nights ago, I was again confronted by the stress of a weight fluctuation. I cross referenced the two scales and realized there was a five pound discrepancy. Granted, five pounds isn’t a lot. But when you are working towards moving down, watching it go up is really disconcerting. So basically it is the battle of the scales- the old relic versus the newer digital one. The newer digital one is reading a lower weight, and it is the one that I will favour. And you know what? I’m ok not knowing which one is right – just as long as the number starts moving downwards again.

I have been praised for my conviction to this process, and the changes that I’ve made. Unfortunately you also reach a point that it doesn’t matter what you’ve done – all that matters is how far you have to go. Right now I am in one of those lulls. It is so close, and I could care less that I have gotten here – all I care about is the moment that I finally arrive. I know that I stand in a relatively tumultuous place. I fear the day that I return to London, and am too tired to work out on a routine basis. I won’t have a grill, so I won’t be able to cook as healthy as I have been. The fear of returning to the Old Leanne, is overwhelming, and yet I haven’t fully arrived at the New Leanne. Oh if only this was somehow simple!
The day after I weighed myself for the first time in nearly 10 years...I wasn't a happy camper :-p