De-stress the Distress

This week's Weight Watchers topic was one of my favs, how to flip up a slip up. I so love this message! it's such a timely reminder that no matter what stresses we're facing, big or small, God always gives us a chance for a do-over.

This question is, do we even want a do-over? Or would we rather wallow in self pity and despair? The answer varies by person. Have you ever met that person that continually creates their own drama and will never EVER be happy?

Sometimes, it's easier to wallow than to face the F-word, failure; followed by the C-word, change.
My take away from this week's lesson is a four step process to get back on track.

1. Own it. 
2. Change it. 
3. Embrace it. 
4. Move beyond it. 

Own it. For Pete's sake (whoever Pete is), please step up to the plate and own your stuff. Only you can control your actions and reactions, y-o-u. If you muffed something up, whether a work task or something more serious like a relationship, own it. Don't blame traffic, or the weather, own it. Don't blame your parents, friends, kids or childhood, own it. When we make mistakes, silly or the more damaging kind, we need to own them before we can move beyond them. 


Change it. Each of us has the power to change our behavior, if we want to. Once we know what we did, it’s time to change things up. But that requires that dreaded self reflection thing which is sometimes  downright painful. Once we own our slip up, it’s time to do things differently. The beauty of this? It’s never too late to make a change. Take a pause and take stock. Ask yourself a few questions. Was my behavior within my control? What were the circumstances around it? Were those circumstances within my control? If faced with this situation again, what would I do differently? What would my do-over look like?

Embrace it. This step is crucial to being able to move beyond the slip up.  When we falter, it’s so easy to quit. It’s so easy to self-berate. It’s not so easy to self-forgive. Think about some negative things you’ve said to yourself over the past week.  I can’t do this. I’m not good enough. I’m not smart enough. I failed before so why try again. I don’t have those skills. Now imagine saying those negative things to a friend, family member or co-worker. We wouldn’t do it (hopefully) because we are far kinder to others than we are to ourselves. Be kind to yourself- own it, change it and move beyond it. 

Move beyond it. I’ve been asking my classes, “if you have a flat tire, do you stop and pop the rest of your  tires?” No, you change the tire and keep on driving! If only it were that easy.  As a child we quickly learn if we touch fire we’re going to get burned. As grown-ups, we’ve been burned so many times, we’re afraid to fuel our fire and try again. However, humans are beautifully resilient. Every day I hear amazing stories of people who face incredible trials and come out triumphant. This is where that one small change that Weight Watchers asks its members to make each week comes into play. Moving beyond it is all about regaining control of our actions and reactions. Think about one small change that you can apply to your situation and start right now. Not tomorrow, not next week, right now. 

By nature of my personality, I often work myself up and make things seem much more overwhelming than they actually are. Instead of getting locked up and stuck, one of the best things I can do is to tackle one small change at a time. Often times I find that when I really look closely at my situation, I can take the small steps I need to de-stress my distress. 

Make the choice. Commit to the choice. Ask for help. Continue with courage.

Hugs and friendship,

Tara

Roadside Assistance

Last week’s Weight Watchers topic was the Ripple Effect. We talked about how every small change we make can lead to big results.

Whether you’re early on in your wellness journey or coming back after a hiatus, this is not the easiest notion to embrace.  

I mean, sure, we can go along with the concept. It makes decent sense. If we introduce one small change at a time, master that change, add another, then another, eventually it will lead to something (or someone) amazing, right?

Right! But how do we get there? And by there, I mean the dreaded G word, GOAL.

I remember when I first started my wellness journey. I sat quietly in the back of the Weight Watchers meeting room in disbelief at the number I saw on the scale. It seemed so overwhelming. I sat there berating myself, wondering how I had let myself get to that point. Thinking it was going to take forever to lose the weight. Knowing that I had failed before, why try again. As I looked at the path that was ahead of me, I had serious doubts about my longevity, ability and commitment to the journey.

Fast forward 16 years, and here I am, at goal.

Of course I have faced some trials along the way. I have no doubt that life will continue to put up road blocks and speed bumps as I continue my journey.  I recently heard someone compare weight loss setbacks to getting a flat tire.  She asked “if you get a flat tire, do you go ahead and pop the rest of your tires”? No, you repair the tire and keep on trucking.

The small changes that I’ve made over the years; they are my emergency repair kit. By making each of the below changes, one change at a time, I have roadside assistance for life. I have the assurance that no matter what happens to my car, I know how to get it back on the road.

I thought it would be kind of neat to come up with 38 changes that have helped me to lose my 38 pounds.

So here goes. 

I:

1. Drink more water.

2. Drink less coke.

3. Eat more fruits.

4. Eat Try more veggies.

5. Increased my activity.

6. Decreased my black and white thinking.

7. Take the stairs instead of the elevator.

8. Make time to take care of me.

9. Eat less fried foods.

10. Eat more whole grains.

11. Became a Weight Watchers leader.

12. Surround myself with healthy, positive, people.

13. Set small measurable goals.

14. Evaluate my progress once a week.

15. Focus less on the scale.

16. Focus more on my health.

17. Laugh more.

18. Moderate my stress by being active.

19. Started this blog.

20. Try one new food a month (hey, that’s a stretch goal for me).

21. Practice self-forgiveness.

22. Open myself to new opportunities.

23. Take control of my environment.

24. Track all of my food and drinks, even the not-so-smart choices.

25. View every meal as a fresh start.

26. Don’t let my emotions sabotage my eating. And if I do, I go back to #25.

27. Eat less prepackaged meals.

28. Eat more fresh foods.

29. Allow myself to indulge. And if I indulge a little too much, I go back to #25.

30. Try a few new healthy recipes a month.

31. See food as fuel for my body, not a solution to my problems.

32. Understand that this is a lifestyle change, not a diet.

33. Always have a healthy snack with me in case of emergency.

34. Eat a snack before I go to social events.

35. Don’t use special occasions as an excuse to overeat. And if I do, I go back to #25.

36. Put my fork down in between each bite.

37. Drink a full glass of water after dinner if I’m still hungry.

38. Take it one day at a time.

I’d like to challenge you to make one small change this week. Just ONE. That’s all I ask.

One small manageable change. 

Once you make that change, start on another.

And before you know it, you will be exactly where you want to be.

As you build that momentum, there’s nothing or no-one that can stop you.

Make the choice. Commit to the choice. Ask for help. Continue with courage.

Hugs and friendship,

Tara

This Too Shall Pass (like a kidney stone)

When the pains of life come our way, we have a choice. We can choose to be the victim or the victor.

The past month for me has been an extremely pain-filled time. I, along with several members of my family have been dealing with a traumatic event. We are all experiencing the pain from different perspectives. Yet we each feel it deeply. And while I cannot share the details, I will say that it is one of the most difficult personal challenges I have faced in twenty years.  The event itself I liken to the ripping off of a band-aid, immediate and shocking. All at once, the wound is exposed, open and festering. With every day that passes, the healing progresses. Yet sometimes you rub up against or bump the wound, and the pain comes right back to the surface.

I saw this sign on Facebook this week and in spite of everything, it made me chuckle. 

This Too Shall Pass (like a kidney stone).

Pain comes and pain goes, and life moves on. The question we need to ask ourselves is, have we moved on? There is life beyond the pain. Are we living it?

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my not-so-swell childhood, it’s that only two forces have control of my life, God and me. And let's face it, my life goes much smoother if I give control to God that which I cannot manage on my own.

The type of life event I am talking about, it’s a make or breaker, for myself and several members of my family. It’s the kind of event where someday we will look back and realize that this event was a defining moment in our lives. It could make us stronger, bring us closer and build our resilience. Or it could tear us apart at the seams, leaving behind anger, broken hearts and defeated spirits.

Experience is a tough teacher, because she gives the test first, the lesson after.

There have been many days recently, when my heart is so heavy, and my eyes can’t seem to stop leaking. In those moments, I question the injustice of it all, for every single person who has been touched by this event. Why? So many people hurt.

Every day, I am faced with a choice. What should I be today, victim or victor? Every day, I have the chance to re-write my story.

Someone once said to me, we are the story we tell ourselves.

If I choose to be the victim, I lose.  I blame. I get angry. I feel sorry for myself. I judge. I isolate.

If I choose to be the victor, I win. I release. I forgive. I embrace. I love. I live. I hope.

Once this wound has healed up, however long it takes, I want to be able to run my finger over the scars of my heart and know that all is well in my soul. That I have chosen to be victorious. That I have chosen to live my best life. Not in spite of it all, but because of it all.

Remember, this too shall pass (like a kidney stone).

Pain is temporary.

Hope is everlasting.

Make the choice. Commit to the choice. Ask for help. Continue with courage.

Hugs and friendship,

Tara

So Long Sarong

Last week, I was blessed to go on a family vacation to the beaches of South Carolina and it was absolutely wonderful!

Beach vacation---for many years of my life those two little words brought about such dread.  Beach= bathing suit.  Most times, I’d rather wear my beach bag than a bathing suit.

When I was a little girl, I was a tad chunky. I had the pleasure of shopping in the husky section, fun right? Who the heck had the grand idea to label clothing as husky? I was always the girl wearing the bathing suit with the skirt. I longed to wear a more stylish suit or even a bikini like the other girls. I had a few years as a teenager/young adult when I dieted and exercised and yes, I finally donned a bikini. Funnily enough, when I look back on those years, I was still critical of my appearance even though I looked h-o-t. We’re our own worst critics aren’t we?

I had myself a little aha moment on our vacation last week. Size and shape wise, I’m the smallest I’ve been in 12 years. I mean, a few times on vacation, I was mistaken for Jennifer Lopez. We have the same curves, I’m just a bit shorter than she is—LOL. No, seriously, this is an important aha moment, so listen up ladies (and gentlemen). As my family and I frolicked on the beach (let’s be honest here, they frolicked while I read my book), I still kept a pair of shorts on over my bathing suit. Maybe a comfort thing, maybe a modesty thing…I can’t be certain why.  What I can be certain of is this…for the first time…in a long time…I felt free on vacation. You know that Special K commercial where the woman is strolling down the beach and the wind blows her sarong off? She hesitates for a moment and then gives herself a once-over and is like uh-huh, I’m f-i-n-e.

Last week I realized that I was free. Free to be me, free to be healthy. The aha moment wasn’t about my new shape, it was about my new wellness. It was about being fit, not being thin. It was about accepting my body as it is and feeling blessed to be well. It hit me when I was carrying our beach bags and chairs.

A few years ago, I remember walking from our rental house to the beach. I was carrying our beach supplies and I was so tired I had to stop and catch my breath a few times. Everything seemed so heavy, including me. The extra pounds I was carrying were literally weighing me down. Once we were at the beach, I was down for the count. Too tired to walk and enjoy the views. Too tired to hang out with the kids. I wasn’t even forty, and I was worn out.

Last week, I felt healthy and energized. My goal was to get in an hour of activity each day. Walks on the beach were a pleasure. My mind was clear, my heart, lungs and legs were strong. Taking a bike ride was total enjoyment. Instead of looking at my watch to see how much time we rode, I looked at my watch to see how much time was left until we had to turn the bikes back in. An aside - I didn’t look at my watch, I looked at my iPhone…does anybody wear watches anymore?

All these years, I’ve been striving for a bathing suit body when what I really needed was a healthy body.

Not a perfect body. Not a tan body. Not a ripped body. (Ok, I’ll take tan and ripped if it comes my way).  A body that can run, jump, swim and play. A body that is open to having fun, sharing laughs and taking risks. A body that lets me be my best me.

It is my wish for you, as you enter this summer season, that you can say so long sarong and hello to a new you. 

Remember, every single pebble, even those buried deep in the ocean, impacts its ebb and flow. Even though you may not see results right away on the surface, every small change you make is working in your favor.   

Summer is here. Breathe it in!

Make the choice. Commit to the choice. Ask for help. Continue with courage.

Hugs and friendship,

Tara

The Experiment

A friend of mine once said to me that when her mother passed away, she wished she could wear some sort of badge, informing people of this event. Because it hurts so badly, and we walk around appearing perfectly fine on the outside, yet on the inside we’re falling apart, just trying to get through the day, facing this new reality. 

For many years, this is what it’s felt like to live with chronic and severe facial pain. I remember so clearly a day in August, twelve years ago. I went to church that day even though I was in extreme pain. I sat crying quietly during the worship, tears streaming down my face, because I wanted to sing, yet I couldn’t open my jaw wide enough. I remember the first time I went to meet my neurologist, absolutely beside myself, telling him that I just wanted to be able to smile again. I sobbed in his office for the loss of who I was. I was a joy-filled person, yet some days, it was painful even to smile.  Years of pain, and the fear of new pain, took an emotional toll. In many areas of my life, I retreated.  

I self- protected and isolated.  I longed for a badge that would let people know how badly I was hurting.  

Fast forward to today. As I’ve shared before, thanks to acupuncture, prayer/meditation, healthy eating, exercise, and anti-seizure medication, my illness has been mostly controlled.

A little over two years ago, I began an experiment. The better I felt, the more I experimented. For every pain free day, I gave life my very best. I felt (and still feel) that God has richly blessed me and when I’m well, I don’t want to waste a single day. And so, with the help of others, I started to rehab my life.

I got healthy.

I went back to Weight Watchers and got back to my goal weight. I haven’t been this physically fit in 10 years.

I put myself out there.

I started a new job. Nate and I joined a Bible Study group. I opened myself to new friendships.  

I leaped out of my comfort zone.

Last summer, my family and I went to Guatemala to build a home for a family in need. This was a big leap of faith for me. Yet I chose (and still choose) faith over fear. I could have feared the many pain triggers that waited for me in Guatemala. Unknown temperatures, cultural differences, long work days, job site noise/vibrations, trying new skills, plane flights, sun exposure. I could have stayed home. Yet I went, and it was the best trip of my life.

I jumped.

When we came home from Guatemala, I felt encouraged to continue my experiment. I felt like God had given me gifts and passions I wasn’t sharing and while I was feeling well, I wanted to share them. So I became a Weight Watchers leader. Due to my absolute fear of public speaking, this might have been a greater risk than going to Guatemala. No…seriously. Yet here I am, leading classes and loving every single interaction I have with others who share in the desire to change their lives.

I stumbled.

Last Wednesday through Saturday, I had one of the worst neuralgia pain attacks I’ve ever had. It landed me in bed for days and turned my world upside-down.  It was like someone shooting a gun in my head over and over again, every few seconds. Relentless, punishing pain. Pain where you don’t dare move your head for fear of triggering more pain. Pain where all you can do is lay in bed and silently cry, begging God for mercy. Yet crying triggers more pain. Pain where you wish for death, because death brings relief. Excruciating, irrational, thrashing pain.

I self- protected and isolated.  I rested, medicated, slept and prayed. And finally, a week later, the pain is gone.  

And so I find myself again, at a crossroad between faith and fear. Feeling like someone who has been beaten and is learning how to trust again. Knowing deep down that faith is an open hand not a clenched fist.  Knowing that I just need to reach out and grab it. Knowing that it’s mine for the taking.  Knowing that with faith I can continue this experiment called life.  

I choose faith. Because God chose me.

Last week, I randomly opened the bible to Psalm 139 verse 13. For you created my inmost being; you knit me in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. And on that same day, Psalm 139 verse 13 was my You Version bible verse of the day.

God chose me. He’s got my back. He is good. Life is good. Enough said.

Make the choice. Commit to the choice. Ask for help. Continue with courage.

Hugs and friendship,

Tara

Stormy Weather

One of my most favorite parts of being a Weight Watchers leader is getting to know people and hearing their stories. Every week, I am reminded of the power of the human spirit- to survive AND to conquer.  I admire and respect the men and women who walk through the doors every week to face the scale, because it’s so much more than that. They are facing their fears, insecurities, gremlins. Every week, they take a risk, just by showing up.  They risk potential failure. To some, not losing after a week of hard work means they didn’t quite stand up to the task at hand.  Facing the scale, week after week can be a very trying experience. Their courage and endurance amazes me.  And as I say over and over again to my members, no matter what the scale says, the most important thing you can do is to never EVER give up on your journey.

The second piece of advice I give to my members (and myself) is to understand that this is NOT meant to be a perfect journey. It can’t and won’t be.  

Too many times I see members that join with the expectation of the arrow on the left, perfect weight loss. I’m going to work hard, really hard, and the weight is going to drop off. I am in the zone. Nothing and no one is going to stop me. I’m a weight loss rock star. I know this. I’ve got this. Watch me rock this program.  I’ll take a member (friend, family member) with a positive attitude any day of the week.  My concern with this approach is--- what will happen when stormy weather rolls around?

Reality is messy. We are not trying to take control of our weight in a utopian environment.  Every day, life sticks it to us. From the minor stressors like traffic, waiting in line at the grocery store, an incorrect electric bill; to the biggies like illness, strained relationships, divorce, extended families and death.

Life is demanding. We’re over- scheduled. At work we think of everything we need to accomplish at home. At home we think about everything we need to accomplish at work. And just when we believe we have it under control, another layer of complication is added.

Our bodies are complicated. Emotionally and physiologically we’re all wired a little bit differently. The way we act and react to the stressors and demands above differ from person to person. People view storms in different ways. One of my best friends LOVES thunderstorms, she sits outside on her front porch, pulls up a chair and enjoys mother natures’ show. Me? I’m absolutely terrified of thunderstorms. If one comes around when I’m trying to sleep, I put sheets over the windows so I don’t have to see any of the lightening. Yep, that’s what I do.  True story.

Weight Watchers (or any balanced wellness program) helps us to weather life’s storms.  It teaches us to change the way we look at things. Instead of covering the window with sheets, it encourages us to face the storm head on.

Having a balanced approach to wellness helps us to bridge the gap between expectations and reality. It shows us that we can succeed in spite of our circumstances, and sometimes in spite of ourselves.

It helps us to understand that some weeks we will lose, some weeks we will gain, some weeks we will maintain--- but ultimately, armed with the right tools and attitude, we WILL reach our goal!

Make the choice. Commit to the choice. Ask for help. Continue with courage.

Hugs and friendship,

Tara

Limitless Part III

It’s a beautiful evening at the Babe Ruth field, a crisp, clear night. I sit in the shadows, bundled up in layers.  What some take for granted, I cherish; the ability to watch my son play baseball.  To most, the weather is perfect. But me, I watch the temperature slowly drop as the sun sets. Once the temperature hits the low 60’s I will need to move inside.

Thanks to my trigmenal/atypical facial neuralgia, this is my normal. If I stay outside for too long in the cold, I’m a goner. The cold is my biggest pain trigger and it can result in many different types of pain. The right hand side of my face can turn to pins and needles and feel like I just had a bunch of Novocain shots. I can have shooting pains in my right eye or in teeth. I might get tapping pains on the top of my head, like someone is repeatedly poking me. Or the very worst- excruciating pain, like my head is being squeezed in a vice, or lightning bolt type pains that run down the back of my neck. The severe pains can put me down and out for a day or two, even with medication.  

So I pack up my stuff and head for my car. I try my best to ignore the seemingly judgmental stares from the other parents as I leave mid-game. Some families that I’m close to know why I have to leave and the rest…I’m guessing they just speculate as to why I can only make a handful of the games.

I pull around to the other side of the baseball field to get the best vantage point I can to watch the rest of the game from my car. The view is marginal at best.

For a brief moment I feel sad and angry that I’m different. That I can’t be sitting in the stands with the other parents, seeing the plays up close, rooting on my boy. It hurts to be apart from the crowd. I wonder if my son understands? Most times I don’t understand this illness myself.

I breathe and I release the pain…because this is my life.  

I settle into my car, keeping it running for a while to warm things up; keeping the window rolled down so I can hear the announcer.

I relax, accepting the moment for what it is. Because I can only see a portion of the field, I let my ears do the talking. I listen for the crack of the ball against the bat. I hear the boys teasing laughter and camaraderie.  The coach’s instructions loom in the air. I listen for the thud of the ball as it’s cradled by the catcher- thunk! I hear the parents shouting encouragement as the kids round the bases during a fantastic play.

I breathe and I adjust my point of view…because this is my life.

As I’m sitting there, I think about the book I’m reading by Kathy Gilbert Taylor, With Great Mercy. She too suffered from trigeminal neuralgia and writes about the testing and growth of her faith during her journey. What really stood out to me from her message is the need for us to be able experience joy in between pain.  When those joyful moments present themselves, both big and small, we need to reach out and grab them, and clutch them tight to our hearts. These moments are gifts from God. They are meant to sustain us during times of pain.  We just need to be still and patient enough to find them.

As the game winds down, so does my anger, it’s gone. I look up and am reminded of the beauty that surrounds me.  I watch the wind move fluidly and silently across the American flag at the ball field. What a glorious and beautiful sight. I let God’s grace move fluidly and silently over me.

I breathe…and I give thanks…because this is my life.

Make the choice. Commit to the choice. Ask for help. Continue with courage.

Hugs and friendship,

Tara