I've got my eye on you....

All my life, it seems like I've been hearing comments about my weight - from family, from friends, even from complete strangers.  I have a memory of hearing comments about how "not trim" I looked in a swimsuit back in elementary school.  I would make excuses, even saying that my stomach stuck out more because I had a bigger curve in my back than other people did.  Yeah, I didn't believe it myself, even when I was saying it.

My weight certainly has fluctuated over time.  I think I was relatively typical for most of elementary school, but did gain weight as I got older and withdrew from a lot of sports.  It crept up throughout middle school (where there were no sports or gym classes), when I would easily polish off a bag of Doritos on my own after school.  I lost weight in high school, thanks to mandatory gym classes, field hockey, and soccer.  College brought about the "Freshman Five" followed by an extra ten or fifteen here and there.  I would guzzle Kool-Aid and my dorm room was known amongst friends for having a box of Milky Way Dark bars that I had bought at the bulk warehouse store.

I am proud of my graduation from college and all that it represents, but hate the photos from it because of how heavy I was then.  I have a framed photo of my shaking the college president's hand - it's a gorgeous leather frame that I received as a graduation present - but every time it catches my eye I can't help but cringe.  Before starting graduate school, I tried Fen-Phen at my parents' encouraging and wound up in the emergency room in under 48-hours with a racing heart.  Fortunately there was no damage and I stopped the medication right away, but I realized (and my parents realized as well) that it wasn't worth jeopardizing my overall well-being over some extra pounds.  Even so, a couple of years later, I remember telling my parents what I weighed and I could just hear the disgust, dismay, and shame in their voices over the phone.  (I still don't know what possessed me to tell them, because I knew what their reaction would be.)  Working with a nutritionist led to some weight loss, but it didn't last.  The pounds crept back on, and I worked them off again with a trainer.  I was finally fit and in shape, managing my nutrition and exercise regimes.

A move away from the gym/trainer and a full-time internship meant that I returned to old habits and began my return to my larger size.  My weight plateaued for a while and maybe even went down a little as I returned to working out and even taught some weekly aerobics classes.  Things really went downhill when I entered the "real world" and worked a full-time "regular" job and then began studying for my licensing exam.  I wasn't exercising any longer and I ate while studying as a distraction.  It was during this time (2007) that my weight reached it's all-time high of 189 and people wondered (and in one case actually asked) if I was pregnant.

To help with my commitment to losing weight, I made it quite public.  There definitely was support, but it was accompanied by some comments as well, along the lines of "We were starting to get a little concerned there, watching your weight go up."  While losing weight, I got a number of comments from people indicating that they noticed my progress.  For the most part, these were positive and encouraging remarks that helped to reinforce my dedication to these efforts.  For the most part....

As I lost more weight, I was more likely to be told that I didn't need to lose any more weight.  I would be asked about my diet of rabbit food or lawn clippings.  I knew people were watching me during lunch meetings to see if I actually ate.  When I told my dad that I leg-pressed 700 pounds at the gym, he was duly impressed but also asked about my knees.  That tied into comments about my "over-doing" it at the gym, being able to beat up most of the men in the office, and possibly growing a beard.  I was asked if my voice was getting deeper.  Add to all of this the decision that I must have an eating disorder and being told outright that I was being watched for anorexic-like behaviors.  A co-worker repeatedly said "I've got my eye on you!"

Is there no winning?  When I'm heavy, there are comments and criticisms.  When I'm lean, there are comments and criticisms.  Sometimes the best option is to not play their game.  I've gotten much better at speaking up for myself and telling people that I don't need them telling me about my weight.  I let them know that I am acutely aware of my size and that I already have the tendency to be very critical of myself.  When I was heavier, I didn't need them saying anything that I was already saying to myself and my voice was much more harsh!  When I'm leaner, I continue to be aware of my size.  I check with my doctor and I work with my trainer.  If there were any concerns that what I do is unhealthy, I would address them right away.

I know the majority of the questions and comments are motivated by love.  I do appreciate that I matter enough to some people that they want to look out for me.  But rest assured, I'm not anorexic.  I don't have an eating disorder.  I don't have body dysmorphic disorder.  I don't have polydipsia.  Keep your eyes on yourself and let me worry about me.

Food Log:

• Breakfast
• 4 egg whites and 2 eggs with salsa
• Lunch
• 4oz chicken
• Green beans
• Snack
• 20g almonds
• Dinner
• 4oz steak
• Asparagus
• Snack
• Generous tablespoon of peanut butter

Exercise:

• Time: 60 minutes
• Level: Level 1 for 1 minute, Level 4 for 58 minutes, Level 1 for 1 minute
• Calories: 650
• Distance: 4.75+ miles

Today's Weigh-In: 147.1