Tag Archives: HAES

Too Pooped 2-pl(a)y? Get some shut-eye!

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It’s hard to run around and have fun if you’re too sleepy!

Whenever I talk about the many dimensions of health (aside from and beyond body weight) I always mention getting enough sleep.  As a nation, we in America suck at getting enough sleep and there’s no doubt in my mind that it has affected our health.

There are more and more studies showing an association between getting less than seven hours sleep with various conditions including diabetes, heart disease, and certain forms of cancers.  More work needs to be done to determine if the link is causal, or if there are other mitigating factors.  However there is some concern that chronic deprivation affects hormones in the body which in turn affect how our bodies cope with appetite, threats to the immune system and managing disease.

Aside from the studies, I know this.  If I go without sleep for too long I’m not as creative as I could be.  And I’m very, very crabby.  (Just ask my hubby.)  So this morning you’re getting your blog post a little late.  Not as late as yesterday’s post pizza afterglow, but late nonetheless.  Because I slept in.  I enjoyed it.  And I feel great!

So my little chicklettes, if  you’re not getting enough sleep on a regular basis, you may want to focus some attention on this area of your life.  Find ways to find time to sleep.  Manage coffee and soda intake.  Meditate.  Whatever it takes to get enough ZZZZzzzzs and wake up fresh as a daisy.  You deserve it.

Love,

The Fat Chick

Basta! When you’ve heard ENOUGH about your weight.

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Sometimes being fierce is pretty tough my dear chicklettes…

So we’re going to extend our series on having enough to talk about when you’ve really HAD ENOUGH of hearing criticism about your body.  No matter how well adjusted we are, no matter how wonderful our friends and family are, there comes a time when you just have to say, “That’s it.  No more!”

There are many ways to handle this in many different situations.  And I can’t hope to cover them all here.  But I did want to share one strategy that I use with well meaning people who love me, who feel they need to “save me from my weight problem”.

Let me start by recognizing, this is very tough.  While complete strangers can be ignored, treated with disdain, shouted at, made fun of or even covered with jelly, buried in sand up to their necks with fire ants dumped on their heads, sometimes you actually want to retain relationships with those you love.  So even if you’re really, really mad at friends and family  for bringing up the weight issue again, the fire ants and jelly solution may be somewhat inappropriate in that situation.

It would be great to be, in all situations, fierce.  But truthfully, I don’t always feel that way–especially when I’m dealing with friends and family.  Sometimes I feel up to a three hour argument about size acceptance.  Sometimes, frankly, I don’t.  And in some situations, the timing just doesn’t seem right for a long educational lecture.

So one tool that I use with those I love is what I call the “border patrol” solution.  First, I thank the well meaning person for their concern.  Next, I tell them that I am aware of my size and am comfortable with the path I’ve chosen for myself.  And finally I tell them that I really don’t care to discuss it with them and ask that they please respect my wishes.  Sometimes I say that my councilor or therapist has “suggested” that I not discuss my weight with my family right now.  (For some folks, invoking a ‘doctor’ real or imaginary can help put them at ease, or at least shut them up.)  If they bring up the weight issue again or are unwilling to stop talking about it, I give them one warning.  I say, “I’ve asked that we drop (not bring up) this subject.  I love you, but if you can’t respect my wishes in this regard, I will be forced to leave.”  Then if they still keep it up, I quietly pick up my keys and my purse, and I leave.

So you set the boundary, let them know what will happen when they cross the boundary, give them one shot to hop the hell back over the boundary the first time they blow it, and then take you and your boundaries out of the situation if they don’t get your very clear message.  Now I don’t stay away forever.  But I let them know that this is my boundary and I’ve got sentries and guards on that boundary 24-7.  And I let them know that the next time we get together, the boundary will be the same.

Does this always work?  No.  Is it appropriate for every situation?  Of course not.  But this tool has served me well over the years and has allowed me to reenforce my dominion over my own body and has allowed many relatives and friends and I to agree to disagree on this topic and maintain wonderful relationships.

So my little chicklettes, the next time somebody you really care about is driving you nuts about telling you how to live inyourbody, try setting up a little border patrol.  Be consistent.  Be firm.  Try being, in your own time and in your own way, just a little bit fierce.

Love,

The Fat Chick

Thursday Theater: Exercise for People of Size

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Steppin’ out can include stepping into an exercise program. In this week’s video I talk about how to maintain physical and emotional safety while exercising in a big body.

So my dear feathered friends, find some exercise birds to flock with and shake your collective groove things!

Love,
The Fat Chick

4th of July Reprise–A Declaration of Body Independence

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Enjoy your independence my little chickies!

NOTE: This is a rebroadcast of a post I did in February. I’ve been thinking a lot about bodies and the rights we have to love them and care for them in any way we choose. I want to reiterate that health and happiness can be defined any way we wish and that nobody has the right to dictate what those terms should mean and how we should pursue them (or not). Enjoy your freedom my dear chicklettes.

Love,

The Fat Chick

The Fat Chick in front of Independence Hall

So on my recent trip to Philadelphia, I saw Independence Hall.  Besides being a gorgeous building, this was a site where some pretty amazingly radical things happened.  For one, the Constitution was created here.  For another, the Declaration of Independence was both written and signed here.  This along with an excellent blog post by ASDAH Secretary, Fall Ferguson, JD, MA.

All of this together got me thinking about the notion of body independence and how our current national obsession with the size and situation of bodies is so very antithetical to the ideas the founding fathers scribbled down in this building.  And being the type of person who will follow an idea to its furthest reaches, beyond all reason, and with a preemptive request for forgiveness from our founding fathers, I’ve decided to lay out a draft of a
Declaration of Body Independence:
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all bodies are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
My body is my own to care for in whatever way I wish.   No one has the right to tell me what to eat or how to move.  If I want a cookie, I shall have one.  If I want broccoli, I shall have it.  I shall boogie down with my bad self, or not as I choose.
I have the right to compassionate, competent and equitable health care.  This includes physical, mental, emotional and spiritual care.  Whenever any Form of Medicine becomes destructive of these ends, it is my right to alter or abolish it and institute a new form of medical care–seeking a form that will seem most likely to effect my Safety and Happiness.
I have the right to look the way I look.  I may wear tiny prints or vertical stripes.  I may expose my fleshy arms as I embrace my freedom.  Fashion shall dictate no law that keeps me from dressing and expressing myself as I darn well please.
I am endowed with the unalienable Right to walk down the street unmolested by individuals (well-meaning or not) wishing to ply me with “cures” purported to change the size of my body to meet their ideal.
I am allowed to create my own definition of health and seek it (or not) as I see fit.
When a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce me under the absolute Despotism of size oppression, it is my right, it is my duty, to throw off such Forces, and to provide new Guards for my future happiness.
So, my little chicklettes, cast off the chains of oppression!  Launch a body revolution!  Viva la resistance!
Love,
The Fat Chick

Haters Gonna Hate

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When you’re THIS awesome, some people just can’t handle it!

Yesterday, in our talk about stepping out, we discussed the notion that often you don’t know what’s in a person’s head, so you might as well imagine they are thinking well of you. But what happens when you think somebody is mean spirited and nasty and then they open their big mouths and remove all doubt?

In our not so genteel society, sometimes people are going to say nasty things.  If they don’t say them to you in person, they will certainly say them online in comments or on Facebook.  They may moo as you walk past or yell something like, “Just put down the cheeseburger!”  At some point in life it happens to all of us.

And that’s really the first step to recognizing that it happens to all of us.  Short, tall, round, thin–everybody gets something nasty yelled at them at some point.  Heck you can’t even be the president without worrying about somebody throwing a shoe at you.  The amazing Ragen Chastain gets so much nastiness thrown at her, she created a separate blog to contain some of the more ridiculous comments.  And even if you were model thin, and rich, and drove a fancy car, people would find reasons to hate on you.  Maybe they would find even more.

That’s because, believe it or not, the actions of haters really have nothing to do with you.  It’s about them.  It’s about them feeling jealous or inadequate or lonely or insecure.  It’s about them desperately trying to recapture their lost mojo by peeing in your pool.  And since you can’t fix the whole world, sometimes you just gotta accept that haters are gonna hate.  Bless them, and move on.  Sometimes I talk to them and give them a piece of my mind first if I’m feeling feisty.  But ultimately, after I’ve had my talk with them, I say, “Bless their hearts” and then move on.

Is it easy?  Oh my goodness, no.  It’s really hard.  And I know sometimes all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry.  But then, from a practical standpoint, I really don’t want to let that hater win.  I don’t want to reenforce that crappy behavior, and I don’t want to give that creep that kind of power over me.  So when I feel down, I go read Ragen’s hate mail and realize I’m not alone.  I call a good friend, get dressed up and go have coffee or an adult beverage somewhere fabulous.  I pull out my positive artwork and read some of the great things my friends have recently said online.

Because at the end of the day, my little chicklettes, you can only control your reaction to the world.  You can only focus on being fiercely and completely yourself.  Because at the end of the day, haters are gonna hate.

Love,

The Fat Chick

R.A.W.R.–Random Acts of Weightloss-industry Rebellion

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In light of this week’s James Bond/Secret Agent theme, I’ve been thinking about some specific revolutionary maneuvers of my own. Recently the “Screaming MeMeMe!” has helped to clarify what we’re up against. There’s a whole lot of hate out there my little chicklettes. But both you and I have the power to be a force for good. And there are so many ways that we can act up and cause trouble for those who sow hate.

Now not everybody is ready to be as public in their rebellion as those who participated in Marilyn Wann’s I Stand campaign, or those delightfully awesome folks who are gaining supervillian status over on Red No. 3 as Agents of Obesity.  Or even those who participated in the Kiss-In to protest Marie Claire’s nasty article.

But that’s okay, because there are plenty of covert operations you can participate in as well.  One of my favorites is NAAFA LA’s bookmark campaign where they print out body  positive bookmarks and slip them into diet books in libraries and bookstores.  And of course NAAFA LA’s Big Fat Flea Market is also an act of positive rebellion in quietly asserting that people of all sizes deserve to look fabulous at reasonable prices.  And I love the post-it note campaign at Operation Beautiful, where folks are encouraged to post body-positive notes on public restroom and dressing room mirrors.

There are so many ways to be quietly positive in a world that shuns us and shames us.  Sometimes it’s simply a matter of saying something nice to someone trying on a pretty dress at a department store, sometimes it’s about leaving a NAAFA brochure at a weight loss clinic, often it’s about just being you as hard as you can.  So my little chickies, lets think this week about how you can perpetuate so R.A.W.R.  And enjoy the secret thrill of making the world just a little better and a little safer for every BODY.

Love,

The Fat Chick

Finding the Right Training Program

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Okay my little secret agents in training.  Looking for the right program to get you started?  Here’s a little video about how to find the class that’s right for you.  Remember my little chickadees, it’s your body and your money so pick something that feels awesomely right for you!

Love,

The Fat Chick

 

 

I expect you to DIE(T) Mr. Bond.

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My husband and I have been watching a lot of vintage James Bond lately.  So  this morning when I was trying to decide what to write in my blog, I have to confess the above scene popped into my head.  Except to James Bond’s query, “So do you expect me to talk?” Goldfinger’s reply IN MY HEAD was “No, Mr. Bond.  I expect you to diet!”  It’s always an interesting morning when your hubby rolls over in bed and asks you what you’re giggling about.

It led to an exceptionally silly line of thinking wherein I imagined what the secret evil lair of the weight loss industry would look like.  I wondered, could the weight loss industry qualify for James Bond nemesis format?  Let’s see:

  1. Impossibly thin, conventionally beautiful babes working as a front for the organization? Check.
  2. Attempted world domination by bankrupting various segments of the population? Check.
  3.  Perpetuation of male-dominated societal stereotypes? Check.
  4. Organization selling something completely different than what is outwardly offered? Check.
  5. Organization offering products that are inherently dangerous to the population?  Check.
  6. Organization infiltrating other society groups including not for profits for financial gain?  Check!

Yup, the weight loss industry (on the whole) qualifies for a secret evil lair.  And with over $60 Billion per year in revenue (that’s Billion with a “B”) there’s a lot of money to work with.  Surely they could afford a hollowed out volcano or two.  There’s probably even enough left over for a private submarine entrance and a tank with sharks with frickin laser beams on their heads.

And the prospects for the world weight loss industry as an evil empire look frankly, pretty good.  After all weight bias is extremely useful:

  1. Government running out of money?  Being forced to cut popular social programs?  Blame fat people! Prescribe weight loss.
  2. Company benefits program cutting into CEO’s yacht fund?  Threaten to cut benefits without weight loss.
  3. Faced with diagnosing a difficult condition or disease?  Prescribe weight loss.
  4. Health insurance costs spiraling out of control?  Government deadlocked regarding solutions?  Blame fat people!  Prescribe weight loss.
  5. Can’t balance a city budget?  Arbitrarily single out inexpensive foods, make them illegal, and prescribe weight loss.

Yup, all that’s left to do is pick out the sexy mid century modern furniture and come up with naughty double entendre names for the front office girls.

Because our governments don’t want us to talk, they just want us to die(t).

Love,

The Fat Chick

Finding Help: Buyer Beware

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When it comes to fitness, if it hurts, DON’T DO IT!

So far this week we’ve been talking about helping others. And I’m a BIG fan of that. Today we’re going to talk about finding help for yourself.  And I’m a BIG fan of that too.  But in finding help, you DO need to be careful.

Settle in my little chickies, and I’ll tell you a little story–an instructive parable as it were.  At one point in my life, when I was deeply worried about being thin, I panicked and I hired a personal trainer. Now believe me, I think having a personal trainer can be an awesome investment. But in this case, I was ruled by panic. Did I check to see if this guy was certified? Nope. Did I ask to talk to other students of his? Uh uh. Did I even do an online search to see if this guy was a maniac? That would be negative. I saw the guys phone number on the gym bulletin board, I called him and I started working with him.

I should also mention that at the time I could barely afford to buy food or medicine. But that didn’t matter because this guy was gonna do it. He was gonna make me skinny and from there on out my life would be PERFECT.

I should have known from the very first workout that this guy was not for me. The FIRST thing he did, before he did an intake questionnaire or asked me about my fitness level or fitness goals or potential health problems was to plunk me on a treadmill, crank up the speed, crank up the incline and to tell me to stay on there for 20 minutes. And by goodness I DID stay on there for 20 minutes.  Sweating, wheezing, heart pounding, and feeling sick, I staggered over to where he was reading a muscle magazine.  “Wow,” he said.  “I wasn’t really expecting you to do the whole 20 minutes.  Now we can get down to some real work.”

Now my little chicklettes, that scenario is what we in the business call a “clue”.  The guy basically threw me into a “maximal” testing situation where he intended to test me to failure, but he didn’t check my history first, he didn’t monitor me and, here’s something important, he DIDN’T BOTHER TO TELL ME that’s what we were doing.  Dangerous? Yup. Epic stupidity?  Yah, you betcha!  But he later confessed he didn’t tell me because he could tell by looking at me that I was “soft” and he didn’t want me to “wimp out”.

But did I yell at him? Did I quit giving him money? No I did not.  I kept training with him because he was thin and muscular and I was fat.  I trained with him for months.  Unable to walk after our exercise sessions, frequently vomiting in the locker room after workouts and feeling sick and miserable, I worked with him until I got injured and couldn’t work out any more.  And I guess you can tell at this point, I’m still pretty darn angry about it.

Look, if I had tuned in with my instincts, which were SCREAMING by the way, that I should RUN (well at least stagger) away from this guy, I could have avoided a whole lot of heartache and saved money to buy something awesome, like shoes.  But I allowed my feelings of insecurity and false hopes to lure me into getting myself hurt.

So my little chicklettes, the lesson is this.  Please do seek help.  We all need help from time to time.  No woman is an island.  But please seek help that is competent, qualified, and compassionate.  Do your research first.  Shop around.  Ask questions.  Ask for references.  Ask for qualifications.  Any trainer, doctor, therapist or coach who doesn’t want to give this sort of information to you is not worth considering.  And if your instincts tell you that this isn’t the right person for  you or that you don’t feel safe, leave.  Take your toys and GO HOME.

Because my sweet little chickadees, when it comes to helpers as with everything in life, you deserve only the best.

Love,

The Fat Chick

Is Exercise Sexy?

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The Shake Weight demonstrates the sex/fitness connection, sort of, well not really…

I saw one of those ads for athletic shoes the other day.  You know, one of those ads where a perfectly shaped pert little body, glistening just so with perspiration shows a sexy godess of fitness–and I burst out laughing.  I was giggling because I thought about how different that particular view of fitness is from fitness in my actual, real life.  First of all there is no low mood lighting with special spotlights to highlight the shape of my rear end.  I don’t, as a rule, casually drape a perfectly white fluffy towel over my shoulders.  There’s no semi-pornographic, oom-chicka-mow-mow music playing where I work out.  And there’s nothing that glistens, glows, or gently shines, because girlfriend, I SWEAT. And I think it’s pretty unrealistic that any amount of exercise is gonna make me look like that chick in the advertisement (even if I had the ARMY of stylists and digital re-touchers she’s working with).  So I asked myself, given the huge yawning gulf between the advertising view of fitness and what exercise looks like in my world, is exercise sexy?

Well, I think exercise can be really sexy, but not usually in the way depicted on television.  I think it can be sexy when it’s a kind and wonderful thing that I do for myself.  I don’t think exercise as punishment is particularly sexy (even in a S&M sorta way).  But I think the way that exercise makes me feel, is sexy.  For example:

Improved Self Esteem–Feels Sexy

Stronger Body–Feels Sexy

Better Sleep/Better Rested–Feels Sexy (and more likely to be awake for sex)

Better Stress Management–Feels Sexy (and a lot more in the mood for sex)

And when you come right down to it.  Research indicates that people who exercise regularly have better sex lives.  So is exercise sexy?  Yes, YES, OH GOD YES!!!!! Just don’t expect it to look like it does on TV.

Love,

The Fat Chick