Long Time, Big Victories

The last post of the Lima Loser blog ended with a simple plea: HELP!

I knew I was headed to Washington, DC for a week and that the temptations of fine dining and airport kiosks lay ahead. But I thought of you. And thought of you.

And I really, really tried. I ordered things without this or with this on the side. I barely made it. But I am happy to report that when I returned I weighed in immediately the next day and I lost HALF A POUND!

Now, two sticks of butter isn't exactly a huge moral victory, but under the circumstances I was pleasantly surprised. Overall, the Lima Losers are doing really well.

Here are the tallies so far:

Total pounds lost: 40.3
Percentage of team weight: .0329%
(If you really must know our combined starting weight, the math is up to you.)

This includes a SUPER IMPRESSIVE weight loss this week by Lima Loser Berlin Carroll - 7.8 pounds!

My personal total is just over 17 pounds and I am noticing a difference in clothes. Donations are lagging a bit behind. Our online total so far is $140. We have just the month of March to go so hopefully people will get clicking!

A Spiral of Shame

"The line between persistence and obsession must be fine because I didn't even see it when I crossed it."

If confession is good for the soul, I am counting on it being good for my waistline. I thought I could contain it - pass it off - pull the proverbial wool over your eyes. But no.

I am in a shame spiral.

It started Saturday. It was innocent really - all sins mortal begin with just a toe in the water of deception. I had friends over for dinner. An act of hospitality. I planned for it - I ate very lightly during the day. The menu, while not exactly spartan was healthy-ish. For pre-dinner munchies there was freshly blanched asparagus and crispy strips of red pepper with a heart-healthy herby olive oil for dipping. Hmmm...I can stick to the crudites.

But then there was the baked brie with walnuts, honey, and dried cranberries. Just a nibble. Entree - spaghetti with Brooklyn Red Clam Sauce - not too bad in small portions (for the recipe see our April 2007 newsletter at www.wecarepeople.org). I did pretty well. Congratulations. Tomorrow will be easy to just return to the disciplined ways of the Lima Losers.

Then Sunday came - and it all went to - well you know where it went. I am not a person who does things halfway. The quote at the top of this post is my original work and is basically my life motto. What's worth doing is worth doing until you stroke out. I was organizing my pantry when I saw it: a Hershey bar. It was a forgotten leftover from when Chauncey and I went on a "S'mores for dinner" jag. [Note: He only ate the graham crackers - chocolate is toxic to dogs.]

210 calories, 8 grams of fat. Not a binge by any means. I'm not even a chocoholic. I can quit any time I want. Lots of people eat more chocolate than I do. Delicious.

And so it went. I ate my way through the entire pantry aligning process. Pop Tarts. They are deliberately packaged for desperate consumption. I gingerly tore open the shiny foil and inhaled their cinnamon-y goodness. Two were down before I realized it.

Well, okay - all is not lost. If I eat two more that can just be dinner and we'll call it a day. Chauncey looked at me with his big brown eyes - knowing full well where this was headed and that there would eventually be cheese and/or peanut butter that I would share with him like hush money to Tony Soprano.

Now who wants a messy box of Pop Tarts - two-thirds empty - cluttering up the neatly arranged and mostly alphabetized shelves of their pantry? I ate the last two to tidy up really.

Enter self-loathing. Not only have I just eaten the [possibly] most noxious food stuff available, I have let down the children. Visions of bigger jeans and the winsome, neglected faces of little kids going without needed services haunted me like the ghost of binges past.

All of this, of course, comes on the eve of a required trip to Washington, DC, with the Allen County Juvenile Court. I know they no longer serve peanuts on planes, but there are gastronomic wonders to be had in the nation's capital.

Focus focus focus. Think of the children. Think of the public humiliation. Think of a toaster pastry induced coronary.

I may need help.

Brothers and Blessings

It was a long week. I had Monday off and took vacation on Tuesday. While I got a lot accomplished, I am kinda tired. But not too tired to tell you about Andrew.

Andrew Atkins, another member of the Lima Losers, is my hero. I feel like this is one of those fifth grade essays where you are assigned to write about someone you admire and after you've thought your way through Superman, Michael Jordan, and Mother Teresa, you settle on someone in your family. If you find those things cloying, stop reading.

This is my favorite picture of Andrew. He is holding his son Caleb who is now already four. I love it though, because it shows Andrew as the big, loving bear that he is. It's actually Reverend Andrew. He and his wife Jenny pastor a small country church outside of Spencerville - the Monticello United Brethren Church. It is the quintessential country church, perfect for Andrew. He loves to hunt and preach and shoot the --well---breeze with people. He is a stand up guy who is mature way beyond his age.

Speaking of age, he is my YOUNGER brother. When we're together, people will often ask who is the older. I say nothing and try to let them draw their own conclusions. Drew, however, is quick to point out that I am actually 15 YEARS older than he - and then salts the aging wound by informing them that I started college and he started preschool on the same day. Tender. Oh so tender.

The age difference meant that I didn't really get to grow up with Andrew. I was out of the house with no possibility of meaningful return, since my sister took my room 11 seconds after I hit the freshman dorm. But that doesn't mean I don't have good stories about him.

Andrew is about the funniest person I know. He can crack a room up as surely as he can conjure homiletical images of fire and brimstone. I have lots of embarrassing anecdotes about pet rabbits and his squabbles with my sister Beth, but I will spare you (unless you donate $19.95 before midnight).

The most important thing about Andrew, however, is that he loves to eat. I got a text message from him today at 4:30 - "weigh in after Chipotle not good idea". It seems that he was carousing in Fort Wayne and found his way to his favorite Mexican haunt and of course got extra sour cream with his nine pound beefy burrito. His first love overcame his altruism. Eh, that's okay.

To understand just how much he loves to eat, you must journey the way of the Dog-N-Burger. Andrew went to college at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago. Not only were the wonders of being at college, learning new ideas, and living in a dorm available to him, but the world of the Windy City was his oyster. Moody sits right off the Magnificent Mile - a stretch of Michigan Avenue that pulses with museums and shopping and urban energy.

And none of it meant anything to him. At all. Not academia, not the Art Institute, not the throngs of people who rushed past the Sears Tower or John Hancock building. All of these paled in comparison to the Dog-N-Burger.

It seems that near the campus was some hole-in-the-wall diner/burger joint/petri dish that was just the kind of place he loves to frequent. And this culinary Eden sired the Dog-N-Burger. The Dog-N-Burger was, in his esteem, the most glorious of all creations - perhaps the eighth wonder of the world.

It was a hotdog INSIDE of a hamburger smothered in cheese sauce and sauerkraut and eight or nine other condiments, certainly including e-coli. And it was his favorite thing. Ever.

When he came home for Fall break, we all crowded around the kitchen table asking him the usual things about college - do you like your roommate? Is the campus safe? How are you doing in your classes?

Phhhhhht.

What we got was a rapturous, misty-eyed description of the Dog-N-Burger. He declared it inspired and went on and on an on, describing in detail each artery-clamping morsel until he became so moved he had to take a momentary time out to compose himself.

More than a decade later, he still glazes over when the Dog-N-Burger is mentioned. The guy loves his grub. That's why it is so meaningful to have him as a Lima Loser - he is sacrificing his emotional firstborn on the altar of community service.

But he does that all the time - for his family, for his church, for his community, for people he helps as an EMT, and for people he's never met on his many mission trips. And he did it for me - without hesitation - when I called to recruit him for the Big Give. He's used to such calls - I impose on him all the time for help. Like the time the guy who reads the gas meter heard something scrawling in my ductwork and left a sign that said, "CAUTION LIVE ANIMAL INSIDE" taped to my furnace. Call Andrew 911 and he came and trapped something (I didn't ask).

It is a blessing to have Andrew for a brother and to have him as part of the Lima Loser team. If you haven't met him - take the time to do so. You won't regret it.

And don't forget to ask him about the Dog-N-Burger.

A Second Loser

Thank God for Judy Ringwald. It was the final hour. An original team member of the Lima Losers dropped out at 3:30 p.m. We had to have our team by 5:00. Things have never looked so bleak. I was crushed by the weight (ha!) of the responsibilities of leadership. Now I know how Condoleezza Rice must have felt when waterboarding came up at a cocktail party. It was almost too much.

And then, Judy reached out and straightened my heavy crown which had gone all whiggledy-jiggledy from the tension.

Who is this woman, this random Samaritan who provided life-saving succor to the Lima Losers? Why would a total stranger risk her own reputation to be associated with three known neanderthals?

Quite simply, I don't know. I'm just grateful that she did. She saved the Lima Losers.

Judy is actually from Spencerville. She has two sons ages 9 and 11 and is active with them in sports, coaching their teams and doing all kinds of outdoorsy things with them.

When she's not being a committed tomboy, Judy is a Nuclear Medical Technologist (NOTE TO SELF: may come in handy if we need to radiate the competition to win this thing), and is a Sales Director for Mary Kay. Judy has even offered to make up the losers from other teams - who knows a nice smoky blue eyeshadow might look good on those boys from Maverick Media. It will cover up their puffy redness from crying when we beat them.

Check out Judy's web site! MAKEOVERS FOR LOSERS

Like many of us, her favorite binge food is pizza and she considers chocolate its own food group.

Her weight loss goal?

TO GET OUT OF CONTROL TOP PANTYHOSE!

Weigh In!

Today was weigh in for everyone in the Big Give. Even though I have been pretty diligent this week, it is still a little intimidating.

I am happy to report that I lost 4.9 lbs this week. Add that to the 7 lbs I lost last week and that's almost 12 pounds!

Andrew lost 4.7 and I have yet to hear from Berlin and Judy. We will update you when those numbers come in.

I wish we were doing as well on donations, we've got $50 so far. Next week is time to start really harassing my fellow council members to get them PLEDGING!

Trapped in a Nightmare

Last night I had a horrible nightmare. It's one that plagues me over and over, especially after I have eaten at Las Palmas and chowed down enough tortilla chips and salsa to fuel me for days, let alone the enchiladas that followed.

The dream always starts the same way: I am just relaxing in bed, watching a little TV, my hand stuffed into a bag of Pepperidge Farm Mint Milanos. Suddenly, Richard Simmons appears as an apparition at the foot the bed. Now, any dream with Richard Simmons is automatically punted into nightmareville by some demon sandman's special team, but this one gets worse.

He is wearing glitter spandex and shrieking, "WE LOVE YOU BUT WE CAN'T WATCH YOU KILL YOURSELF!" Immediately, a team of firefighters wielding chainsaws start carving up my house, enlarging the doorways to haul me out - mattress attached. The intervention goes down hill from there as I am pulled and pummeled from my boudoir, hammy fingers still clutching those delectable sandwich cookies.

Whew. It was just a dream.

Not really having the resources or inclination to contact a Freudian analyst or some oracular shaman for interpretation, here's what I think the dream means: INSIDE OF EVERY FAT PERSON IS A FATTER PERSON TRYING TO GET OUT.

That can be the only possible explanation for my lifelong commitment to yo-yo dieting. Blubber, it seems, will simply not be denied. Lose the weight, and your chubby doppelganger will haunt you until you die of diabetes with an eclair in each hand.

This is hard stuff. I am always mystified by people who think nothing of commenting on people's weight and saying things that are rude and hurtful. They talk about willpower, and just eating until you feel a little full, and how that when THEY get upset they can't eat (BLOGGER'S WARNING: NEVER trust anyone who says they can't eat when they are upset).

Life is not easy for people who struggle with their weight. Imagine walking into a waiting room or a professional meeting and having to scan the room to make sure there is a chair that will fit you. Or always being embarrassed when people start talking about health concerns related to weight or make comments about someone else's size.

My personal favorite is the FAT TAX. This is the most heinous of all discriminations. Here's how it works. Walk into Walmart and buy a sweatshirt. Note the prices? Sweatshirts - $8....Big Sizes, $2 MORE. The two bucks is the fat tax.

I won't belabor this, but stereotypes about people of size are some of the last socially acceptable biases. Fat people are lazy, less competent, unappealing in your business, lack discipline, and they don't even mind when you make a joke about their weight! I got news for you, I have lost more pounds and asserted more discipline over food than any ten people.

As terrifying as a late night hallucination of Richard Simmons may be, obesity is the real nightmare. Contests are fun, and this one is certainly for a great cause. But let's not forget that there are almost 100 people who have agreed to be part of the Big Give, putting themselves on the line, drawing attention to some of their most sensitive and personal spaces. Cheer them on!

Soup for a Snow Day

Who doesn't love a snow day? As a kid I remember huddling around the Philco radio, an ear pressed to the speaker like a an underground dissident straining to hear Radio Free Europe. When I worked in school counseling, I found out that adults are actually want snow days more than the kids.

Having an unexpected day at home was a luxury. I didn't sleep in but hit the ground running at 6:30 a.m. I had lots I wanted to accomplish and got a good chunk of it done.

Unfortunately, snow days are perfect for cooking, and therefore eating. I love to cook. I love everything about food - buying it, trying new recipes, organizing it in my cupboards, cooking it, and of course, consuming! People who have been to my house know that I keep a VERY well stocked pantry. Most of the time I have two months worth of food on hand.

And on a snow day, that means DANGER. Usually when snowed in, I want a rich soup, a cheesy comforting casserole, and something decadent for dessert - usually cookies or a cake or something amazing. So today was a particular challenge for weight loss. I wanted to fill the house with the delicious aroma of homemade cinnamon rolls or blackberry cobbler.

But that would have been bad. Very, very bad.

So I decided to pull out a great recipe that was Thin and Healthy compliant. On Phase One, there are limited choices - proteins, some fruits, lots of fresh vegetables - all good stuff to be sure but not exactly a sticky bun. One protein choice is lentils. I love them - they are on my top 10 list of favorite foods, about 9 notches down from my Mother's chicken paprikash.

A very easy recipe, this soup is wonderful and is even better the next day - so I've got lunch tomorrow in the brown bag. The recipe is from a Williams-Sonoma cookbook and is one of those things that you can make quickly with ingredients that are usually on hand. Enjoy!

WILLIAMS-SONOMA LENTIL SOUP

1 tablespoon olive oil (I use non-stick spray)

1 large onion, diced

1 to 2 carrots peeled and diced

1 to 2 teaspoons ground cumin

2 cups of dried lentils

6 to 7 cups water or chicken stock (use a low sodium brand)

Salt and pepper

Sauté onion in oil until clear and slightly caramelized – about 8 minutes.

Add cumin, carrots, lentils, and stock and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer until lentils are tender about 20-30 minutes.

The recipe also calls for adding chopped fresh spinach at the end of cooking if desired. It is also great (and very healthy) with chopped kale.