Tag Archives: Health At Every Size

Stepping Out: Sharing Your Hotness with the World

The Fat Chick and her fabulous husband on the red carpet at the New Media Vault Event at the W Hotel at Hollywood and Vine.

Last week my hubby and I went camping. We got really dirty and had to boil hot water for dishes. Then we came home, took baths and went to glitzy red carpet event at the W Hotel in Hollywood. Such is the life in LA LA Land. Last week we addressed the joys of camping and getting back to nature. This week we’re going to address the other half of our crazy week and talk about stepping out.

I think many of us have learned to hide our big fat lights under a bushel barrel. Many of us were taunted and teased as children. As adults, some of us are still taunted and teased. And just recently the situation of NY School Bus Monitor Karen Huff Klein demonstrated that it can be tough out there for people of size. (At least the school imposed a harsh penalty on those boys for their awful behavior.) When you have spent your life being singled out and taunted and teased and harassed and called awful names it’s human nature to want to make yourself less noticeable. It’s easy to see why we would try to make ourselves small and fade into the background.

While this sort of blending in is perfectly understandable, it’s also a little bit sad. We are big, bright, beautiful shining stars and we are meant to SHINE baby! It’s hard and it’s scary, but it just needs to happen. So this week we’re going to be talking about moving out of the shadows and into the light–starting with my appearance at the event pictured above.

I’ve been working in the film and media industry in Hollywood for over a decade now and have been in the public eye for even longer than that, but let me tell you a little secret. I still get nervous every time I go to a public event. I still wonder if people will judge me. I keep waiting to be “found out” and hear some body shout, “Hey, who let that short, chubby chick from Wisconsin in here?” You know it’s never happened, but I’m always aware that it might.

When I get nervous, I play a little game. As I’ve said before, I don’t really know what most people are thinking about me. So I begin the evening by imagining they think I’m awesome. It’s all in my head anyways so I might as well imagine good things, right? So I grab my husband’s arm and a bracing (and ridiculously overpriced) glass of pinot grigio and jump right in. And most of the time, I have a lot of fun. But in order to have that fun and to shine in the light, I first have to overcome that moment of existential angst in my bathroom at home, gather my courage, put on my big girl Hollywood “playah” panties and get out there.

So my little chicklettes, this week we’re going to talk about donning some sequins and rhinestones and hopping out of the nest of your little comfort zone. Because to deprive the world of your basic awesomeness for even one more day would be a terrible, terrible crime.

Love,

The Fat Chick

The Zen (sort of) Art of Camping

1 Reply

Sometimes I joke that the best part of camping is how relieved you are not to be camping any more. Seriously. You know, like when you say to somebody, “It hurts when I do this!” They invariably dutifully ask, “Well, why are you doing that?” You reply, “Because it feels so good when I stop!” Yeah, camping is a little like that.

When I told one of my good friends I was planning on going camping, she said that for her, camping seemed to be mostly about cooking and cleaning up after cooking and getting things ready for sleeping and sleeping and picking things up after sleeping. And I agreed. Camping is kind of like that too. But for me, that’s sort of the point of camping.

For me, camping takes me out of my routine at home and slows me down. Everyday things like making a meal or doing dishes are more challenging when you have to pull everything out of a cooler and make a fire and heat your own water. But I also find that the slower and more challenging nature of doing these things in a more primitive way causes me to live in the moment. While I’m making dinner, I’m not also on the cell phone and figuring out what I’m going to wear today. While I’m doing dishes, I’m not also watching TV and thinking about what my last client said to me. I find that I can be absorbed in what I’m doing and achieve a state of flow.

For me, a state of flow is a condition where for a few, brief, blessed moments, I’m concentrating completely on what I’m doing while I’m doing it. It’s rare and elusive but supremely relaxing. It’s living in the now without reflection and without worry. It’s just a matter of doing stuff while you’re doing it. This is something I also feel whenever I teach an exercise class. There’s so much to keep track of while teaching–from how my students are doing to the temperature in the room to the beat of the music to what step I’m supposed to be doing right now to making sure that everybody is being safe and not getting hurt. Whenever I start thinking about what I’m going to have for lunch or whether or not I should buy that shirt I saw at the mall last night, it all falls apart. I stumble. I lose my place in the music. And I find I have to shake my head, march us all in place for a little while and begin again. But when I’m just thinking about my students and the beat and the dancing, it’s calming and joyous and maybe a little teensy bit zen.

So my little chicklettes–I want to ask you to think about what activities allow you to achieve this sort of moving meditation. What allows you to live completely in the “now”? Is there something you love to do? Something during which you can be completely absorbed and time seems to just “fly by”? I encourage you to find your thing. Maybe you could even try camping. Because, when you stop camping and take a bath and slip in between clean sheets on a real bed, it feels soooooooo good.

Love,

The Fat Chick

The Fat Chick Unplugged: Back to Nature

3 Replies

The Fat Chick and family get back to nature

I often talk about balance on The Fat Chick Sings. My husband just finished up a pretty intense gig and I knew he needed a break. So the minute he told me the date of his last day, I announced that the day after his last day, we were going camping!

Now I love technology as much as the next chick. Possibly even MORE! And my husband works as a high level technology consultant. But sometimes my little chicklettes, you need to unplug and get away from technology for a little while. So we go camping.

We have a funny rule on our camping trips. We only check cell phones/email one time per day and we only check our spouses email/cell phones not our own. We know each other well enough to know what constitutes a real emergency and what can wait. And then neither of us gets sucked down the rabbit hole of emails and electronic love that pulls us out of the moment.

So we unplug the technology, stoke the campfire, pour some wine into our plastic camp cups and sit. We feel the breeze on our faces. We trace the patterns in the stars. We talk about everything and nothing. We breathe.

I wonder sometimes if feeling the sun on our faces is something that we need for health. Some casual googling reveals many folks believe that spending time in nature helps deal with depression, helps us heal, makes us feel more creative and may even help us live longer.

Now I’m not saying that camping and/or being outside is always awesome. There are challenges (more on this tomorrow). And I admit, it’s a whole lot easier to spend time outside when you live in Southern California than in many other places in the world. But it seems like getting outside for just a few minutes each day might be a good addition to our list of healthy habits.

So my little chicklettes, I invite you to spend just a teensy tiny bit of time today feeling the sun on your beaks and the wind ruffling through your fluffy little feathers. Take two deep breaths and call me in the morning.

Love,

The Fat Chick

How You Should REALLY Use Your Digtial Scale

1 Reply

In honor of our secret agent week, I couldn’t resist this happy little photo. So many of us allow the scale to be our evil nemesis. We step into its bathroom secret lair and allow the number listed on it to determine whether we’re having a good day or a bad day. We step up to it frightened, contrite and naked (unadorned even with jewelry) and allow it to determine whether we’re a good person or not. Ninja kitteh says, “unless you’re using it as a secret agent paw print scanning device, just put it away already. I don’t let any silly piece of hardware make me cry.”

Good advice kitteh. Good advice.

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

4 Replies

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

I expect you to DIE(T) Mr. Bond.

2 Replies

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:

Impossibly thin, conventionally beautiful babes working as a front for the organization? Check.
Attempted world domination by bankrupting various segments of the population? Check.
Perpetuation of male-dominated societal stereotypes? Check.
Organization selling something completely different than what is outwardly offered? Check.
Organization offering products that are inherently dangerous to the population? Check.
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:

Government running out of money? Being forced to cut popular social programs? Blame fat people! Prescribe weight loss.
Company benefits program cutting into CEO’s yacht fund? Threaten to cut benefits without weight loss.
Faced with diagnosing a difficult condition or disease? Prescribe weight loss.
Health insurance costs spiraling out of control? Government deadlocked regarding solutions? Blame fat people! Prescribe weight loss.
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

2 Replies

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

Exercise Animals: Getting a Little Lift

2 Replies

Okay my dear little chicklettes. Sometimes it can be tough. But it’s amazing how far we can fly when we help one another. That is all.

Love,

The Fat Chick

Is Exercise Sexy?

2 Replies

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