Please Keep Trying!

That’s not sarcasm up there in the title; I’m glad I gained two pounds. The reason I’m ecstatic about my weight gain is because the weight gain is from muscle, which means I just lost seven pounds over the course of a year. How do I know the gain is muscle and not lard? Good question. One look in the mirror answers that one.

I’m now the proud owner of a delightful set of starter guns, i.e. biceps. The other day I was brushing my hair and noticed how big my arms looked. At first I thought, crap! I’m getting fat! On closer inspection, my biceps are really starting to bulk up. I was already lifting to gain muscle before the free weights, but I wasn’t achieving what I wanted in the time-frame I’d set for myself. By tracking my progress via chart, I noted I began lifting with 8 pound dumb bells on January 21. As of today I’m up to 12 pounds. That’s one month. Damn I’m proud!

The only crappy thing about gaining pounds in the way of muscle mass is how the scale taunts me with it. A pound is a pound, it says, and you gained two! Bastard scale, not gonna tell me I’m fat. I’ll crack it in two if it sasses me again, and I’ve got the muscles to do it!

I know I keep harping on Leftie. You’re probably wondering why I keep doing so on a weight loss blog. Well, if Leftie doesn’t get fixed, it’ll put a huge cramp in my workout routine and will keep me from the activities which make me happy and sane. An unfit and unhappy Rachel is a fat Rachel. Hence why Leftie is such a star on Please Keep Trying.

I had gone to an orthopedist last week and finally had an MRI done on my knee. When I went back to the doc on Monday, he read my MRI and told me I did indeed have a small meniscus tear. He also explained that with physical therapy I could lead a normal life, i.e. walking and going up stairs, but not much beyond that. Uh, in whose world is that normal? Cause it sure as hell isn’t mine.

The doc says it’s not a bad tear, that I have a few good years still ahead of me even with it injured, but I might not be able to return to the things I did before without a successful surgery. Say again?

Does this guy know I’m only 31? A few good years? I think I have a few good decades.No one is going to take away my rides through Forest Park. Nobody has the right to say my hikes are no longer an option. And no one, no one but no one, says I can’t do taijutsu anymore.

I asked him if the tear couldn’t heal on its own. No, meniscus tears never heal on their own. I beg to differ, some do. Why is it feeling better then? But no, he says, they never heal. I didn’t even see the MRI. Where was the tear, what kind of tear was it? Some meniscus tears, if near a blood supply, aka blood vessels and veins, will slowly, slowly mind you, heal on their own. Could mine be that variety of tear? No, they n-e-v-e-r heal on their own.

I then asked him, can you guarantee that after physical therapy I can get back on the mat and do what I did before, without crippling myself further? He didn’t say a word for some time, then he said no. I could make it worse if it wasn’t fixed. The doctor then said he’d pencil me in for March for arthroscopic surgery.

Errr, something doesn’t feel right. I know doctor’s can’t make lofty promises, and they should usually err on the side of caution with news, but c’mon, why can’t he tell me why this bastard won’t heal on its own? Not just that, but why did he cave in to my surgery request? I really want to see the MRI. I hate getting MRI’s done but I did get it done, I paid for it, I wanna see it and I want it explained to me in language that’s not too clinical nor condescending.

So now I’m looking for a second opinion. Someone who will tell me what the MRI says and whether or not I can get this thing healed up by itself over time. I don’t want surgery, but if that’s what it takes to be active again; cut away. But don’t put me out to pasture before my time and don’t take for granted that I’m not in charge of my own health. That’s right, I’m in charge. I can walk away from any doctor I don’t feel fully comfortable with. I’ve got too many unanswered questions for the orthopedist I’m dealing with now. After coming so far and losing so much weight, this is my life and my time, and it’s time to find a new orthopedist.

The new hybrid cars are amazing aren’t they? They can take the force used in braking and convert it into energy for the car. Crazy. You wanna know what’s crazier? Completely electric cars. Yeah, wish we had those around. They’re developing them right now, can you believe it? Know what else is unbelievable? Electric cars have already been invented (about one hundred years ago) and almost perfected (about fifteen years ago). For whatever reasons, take your pick, manufactures quashed this dream and in turn rolled out bigger, heavier gas guzzling monoliths.

This sounds to me what the food industry is doing to our food supply, quashing the older and healthier in favor of foods easier and cheaper to manufacture but are in demand. Think about it: back in the good ol’ days, great great granny and pappy had to make their own bread and were forced to eat what they grew or were able to trade for, which was also mostly what someone grew or made. Refined goods back then, such as sugar and salt, were a luxury few could afford.

Don’t get me wrong, there were some dark times in terms of food going bad and lack of production oversight, but all that started when food became mass produced thanks to technology. Mass production can be a boon as well, but isn’t it possible to mass produce foods which won’t kill us or make us fat?

Nowadays, you can’t escape from the sugar. It’s considered a luxury to buy home baked bread and to purchase foods with no refined sugars. We call those items “health foods”; granny and pappy just called ‘em “food”. Funny what a hundred years will do to your perspective.

People are slowly beginning to realize the foods they once considered a godsend (Wonderbread, lord knows why, was considered a godsend) are actually poisoning them. The partially hydrogenated soybean oil meant to save us all from the icky palm oil has instead been proven to do just the opposite. Palm oil is now back on the scene, making a comeback at twice the original price (it’s not a health food though, it’s still saturated fat!) Sugar, once so prized, is the new cocaine; a cheap and legal opiate available to everyone in every price bracket.

We’re confused when we go grocery shopping. People need degrees to understand what the hell it is they’re eating. What’s this new, fully hydrogenated oil? Is that a trans fat? It says trans fat free. What’s sucralose?

We’re getting eye strain from reading the fine print on the ingredient labels. We’re getting fatter because our food is more processed than our computers. We’re suffering from food technology.

Technology itself can be a fine thing. People live longer because of new cures and developments. We’re supposedly more connected than we ever were before. Our lives our enriched, our views are expanded, and our body’s are bloated but starving, because of technology. Americans are now suffering the effects of our poor food technology, and choices, by being stunted because of it. You know what we call our native diet? SAD: Standard American Diet.

My mom was ahead of her time. She would make our baby food because Gerber loaded its products with sugar and chemicals. She also grew her own organic produce and my dad would catch fish from small local ponds. Nowadays, people shell out good cash for healthy foods, organic produce and local goods.

I’m not saying we should all go back to growing our own food (it’d be nice if we had that kind of time) but one positive change we can make in our daily food consumption would be to boycott foods loaded with artificial chemicals and with refined ingredients, like white flour and sugar. It’s everywhere and it’s hard to avoid, but maybe by switching over one or two products twice a month could make a difference in how people eat.

One of the reasons I became so heavy was my mass consumption of refined goods. My body was never satisfied because I wasn’t getting any nutritional benefits from what I was eating. And the foods were addictive. Despite my mother’s best efforts, I succumbed to sugar addiction at an early age.

Now, I’m attempting to switch to foods which will treat my body well and give it the energy it needs, along with a feeling of satisfaction. I’m going to give agave syrup and xylitol a shot as a refined sugar alternative and hopefully, this is a toughie, start using more whole wheat in the kitchen. I’ll let you know how it goes, but it’s a challenge to make the right choices when we’re surrounded by easy ones.

I had my first appointment with the orthopedic doctor today. I was so excited! At least until he took some x-rays, and his assistant had me do some exercises to see where the pain was (I could have told her). Then he started twisting my knee around. Does this hurt? No. This? Nope. How about now? Yep! It was only when he bent my knee all the way to my chest that it hurt. Then he dug his thumb behind my patella and asked, does this hurt? No. How about here? Yes!! Then he dug in some more and asked if it hurt. Are you sure? Right here? OMFG, YES!

From this lil’ session he was able to ascertain I may have two things going on simultaneously:

• torn meniscus (duh)
• mild arthritis

I was told in 2000 after my first arthroscopic surgery, I had the beginnings of arthritis in my left knee. I was heavy back then, and destined to become even heavier. I figured after I had lost so much weight, the arthritis wouldn’t be an issue. Guess I may be proved wrong in that assumption.

I’m getting an MRI done tomorrow and will see the doctor again next week to get it read and to figure out what exactly’s going on and what we can do about it. I’m not going to be like the rest of my family and get a total knee replacement by my fortieth birthday because of raging degenerative arthritis. I’ll lose the rest of the lard and the excessive skin and maybe that’ll help the situation. But the bottom line right now is, we still don’t know for sure what the heck’s going on and won’t know until next Tuesday. Hey, I waited almost seven months to get this thing checked out, I think I can wait one more week!

I have a long and sordid past with sugar. It’s the first substance I ever became addicted too. I became a sugar junkie around the age of four, and have been an addict, to varying degrees ever since. I’m trying to get off the white stuff, but I’m really only substituting one sweetener for another. Quitting tobacco was by far easier than quitting sugar.

You don’t think sugar is addictive? Do you scoff at the claim? Really? Try quitting sugar cold turkey, without any artificial sweeteners to soften the blow, and tell me it’s not addictive. I go on whole body cleanses once a year for about two weeks to rid myself of the goop accumulated therein, and when I stop sugar, look out! No bread, no crackers, no cereal, nothing but fruits and vegetables, and even the fruit is limited due its sugar content. I went without any sugar and very little fruit for three weeks one year at Christmas. I almost killed someone.

Looking for adventure? Cut out sugar for one whole week. Check the ingredients on all your breads, your salad dressings, your croûtons, your supposed health foods. Don’t eat anything which lists sugar, corn syrup, high fructose corn syrup, sucrose, fructose, sucralose, aspertame, or any other sweetener know to man. Might as well drop all the fruit and juice along with the sugar if you’re really serious about proving sugar isn’t addictive. Fruit and fruit juice have a lot of sugar in the way of fructose. “Fructose is the sweetest naturally occurring sugar, estimated to be twice as sweet as sucrose“-Wikipedia.

Tell me how you feel after only three days of absolutely no sugar. It’s in everything; salad dressing, crackers, bread, cereal, fruit drinks, gatorade and in pre-packaged meals. You can’t turn around without bumping into sugar in either it’s sucrose, high fructose corn syrup, or cane sugar form. You can’t.

Go to a “health food” store. Sugar’s there too. Lurking on the shelves, drawing you in with its green “low calorie”, “organic”, “natural” packaging. Read the label. Read it every single time you buy instant or packaged foods. You’ll find you’re secret addiction waiting for you, in the first six ingredients.

I’m not through with sugar. I eat it often, daily in fact. It’s a struggle every single day to make better choices about how I use it. Do I put it on my oatmeal (one measured tablespoon) or do I have a homemade treat? Do I have a handful of rice crackers or do I use sugar in the meal I’m cooking? The way I use sugar is a balancing act of where to best use it. How will I get maximum satisfaction from this? If it’s hidden, in the form of high fructose corn syrup in bread, I won’t even taste it, but my ass will feel it. And so will my immune system.

Yes, immune system. Try this. Next time you’re sick or think you’re getting sick, cut out all the sugar. Don’t let a grain of it pass your lips. Notice how you feel, besides having a wicked sugar craving . Eat raw veggies and homemade vegetable soups instead of chicken soup. I guarantee you’ll feel better and heal faster. I do, every time. But you know what? I want that sugar so bad it hurts. I want it more than anything when I’m sick because it soothes me.

What I’m working on now is avoiding the really bad sugars, such as refined or high fructose corn syrup. Processed anything loses most of its health benefits, no matter how small, when it’s made into what it is. If you have the choice, buy something that’s sweetened with honey, cane juice, agave syrup or palm, maple or date sugar.

It’s still sugar, it’s still sixty calories per tablespoon, but your body will thank you for making a better choice, especially if it’s agave syrup. Just don’t make the mistake of thinking natural “raw” sugars are good for you and then eat them like you were eating the “bad” sugars. A calorie is a calorie is a calorie. And sugar is sugar is sugar. If you want a sugar high, eat an orange or an apple or a cup of honeydew (there’s honey right in the name!) The high will be actual energy and not some quick fix.

It’s amazing the quite thrall sugar has on all of us. You don’t think it’s in much, but it’s where you least expect it, really. In the future, perhaps refined sugar will become a controlled substance, along with tobacco and heroine. Indeed, sugar is addictive. The obesity epidemic can attest to that. We should have meetings and support groups just for sugar addiction: My name is Rachel Bigler and I’m a recovering suga-holic.

I swear I’m being haunted. Ever since I started putting “pen to paper” about my weight loss, I keep sensing a fullness in the room. Or I smell a stray scent (it’s been cigarettes the past two days). Or a flavor from meals past (bacon bits as a remembered flavor is weak). And sometimes when I recall a particular instance outdoors, I can actually feel the sun on my face. When I crawled into bed last night I felt a strange mixture of old emotions, old thoughts, old guilts.

What the heck’s up with that? Why am I being haunted by a past I thought I reconciled with? I bet it’s because of the stupid book. Writing eleven pages has drained me more than a round of weight training with Biff. You’d think talking about how I changed my life would be uplifting and reaffirming, yes? Ahhhhh, yeah, well, I haven’t gotten to that whole “life changes for the better” bit yet.

I thought I’d start at the beginning and work my way forward. Then I realized, well, that’s taxing, and figured, why don’t I write about the teen years? The teen years, turns out, were just as taxing as the toddler years. Huh. I don’t know why I can’t just write about the past three years and work from there.

The past three years were the life changing years, but my mind has its own agenda. I think my head needs to work out some prior junk in order to face the good stuff. I don’t want to examine the nitty gritty of my life and dissect it all over again; I already did that. However, I didn’t apply what I learned to my weight gain.

We’re all the sum of parts and everything we experience, negative or positive, affects us in some way; negative or positive. The ghosts haunting me are the new perspectives I have on old experiences. It’s like looking back in time and finally having the tools to understand what’s going on. A good example for this comes to mind, in how people in earlier times believed dinosaur bones were the remains of dragons or horrible monsters from hell. Fast forward to the golden age of archeology and everyone has a good laugh over how naive we were. While I never believed my childhood memories were the bones of demons, I can now look back with an appreciation and insight I didn’t have before. But I still have to look back, and look back hard.

I got a chance to talk with my mom face to face yesterday about some of the things I remember so vividly. Talking with her, like an equal, with no animosity, no hurt and no anger made me realize how hard it was for everyone to raise me and my sister with the problems we had as family. I’m so grateful for the chance to talk with her like that, and to finally laugh at some of the stuff which would have previously made me all weepy.

Not all the ghosts lingering around are the kind I want exorcised, some are from some very good times. Some of my ghosts are the memories I wish would haunt me more often, like the memory of my mom feeding me some of her homemade zucchini bread with her lopsided smile. I love that smile. But the weird cigarette ghost, he’s gotta go.

Since that wee bout with Leftie last week, I’ve been pretty much holed up in the apartment. No going out, no driving around much and absolutely no exercise. While I have plenty to keep me busy here, I have to get my thirty minutes in at the gym, but can’t.

That sucks. I’m starting to get a bit depressed and I keep imagining my waistline is exploding into infinity for lack of movement. I keep poking David and asking “Am I getting fat?” Or I think every morsel I sneak past my lips has twice as many calories since I’m not exercising. The walls are closing in, the elliptical is mocking me from afar and all the bad foods are trying to climb down my gullet against my will!

Since I began to lose weight three years ago, exercise has become my Prozac, my Zoloft and my lifeline to sanity. I need it like an addict needs their fix. I literally can’t be happy without at least three to four days a week of crazy cardio.

I first discovered how much exercise really did for me about two years back when I was unable to get to the gym for two weeks. I was cranky and unbearable to be around after seven days of no exercise. After day eleven I was weepy and in no mood to be with people. Getting back to the gym just once after that time, switched my attitude and general outlook back to happy and life-affirming.

How can this be? Studies have shown people who exercise regularly have fewer instances of depression, have more energy and are generally more emotionally fit than people who don’t have a set exercise routine.

I sleep better when I get my cardio in and am more creative to boot. If I concentrate on a few problems before I exercise, I seem to come up with a slew of solutions and alternatives during my workout. All the oxygen getting to the brain during a rigorous workout helps the ol’ noggin function at a higher rate.

Being overweight tends to drag the mind and spirit down, but even thirty minutes of moderate exercise (a leisurely stroll is not moderate exercise FYI) a day will brighten your spirits. Exercising does more than trim your waistline; it imparts a positive attitude you need to succeed with your weight loss goals. Even if you can only start with fifteen minutes a day (which is what I did) I say go for it. You’ll see in two weeks your fifteen minutes morph into twenty, then thirty, then you’ll be adding on the wights, and the ab exercises. You’ll get hooked and never want to be away from a place you can get your workout in, be it a gym or an outdoor track.

Which is why I’m up on my second story balcony, pining for my Life Fitness trainer like Juliet for that knucklehead Romeo: Elliptical, elliptical I know exactly where thou art; being used and abused at the local Y! Damn it! I thought I was the only one!

Oh well, I’ll get back soon…and make that two-timing piece of hardware pay!

I don’t remember when it happened that making food became as fun as eating it. I think it it came to be about the same time I was researching Japanese cuisine. I had no idea what anything was in the Japanese pantry. What the hell is dah-she? Kum-bue? Day-con? Huh?

I like a challenge and have always had a massive creative bend. Taking on the task of deciphering the Japanese food terminology was something I couldn’t refuse. I went link-hopping from website to website and checked out every Japanese cookbook at the St. Louis Library (it’s true; you should see the overdue charges). I wanted to know my media inside and out: A person can’t be creative if they’re unfamiliar with the tools they’re working with.

I had to figure out dashi, soy sauce, and mirin are the fundamentals in 90% of all Japanese soups and sauces. I had to learn mochiko dough can be reheated to make flawless daifuku. I figured out the easiest way to make wagashi is to make the anko ahead of time, freeze it, and use it when I felt the need to be creative. I discovered real teriyaki sauce doesn’t even use garlic (too bad). I became acquainted with the best cooking methods for different recipes and how to steam different dishes in the manner best suited to each (there are many ways to steam, FYI).

After I had the basics, I was ready to get creative, and did. Then I had the revelation that I now think about food all the damn time! But not to eat; to make.

I love to cook. I regard cooking as a highly applicable form of art. Most art looks good and can only be enjoyed by a few of the senses; usually tactilely, aurally, and visually. Cooking engages every sense!

The aroma of the sesame seeds as they’re crushed or the ginger as it’s grated, gets the olfactory involved as never before. As spices are ground in a mortar and pestle, they make a soft, low sound just as the chiming of a metal spoon on a wok makes a deep ringing tone. The feel of rice flour dough in the hands is soft, like an earlobe, and tofu has a slippery, cool texture. The finished meal should always look as good as it tastes; the payoff should equal the investment and be visually aesthetic. And to taste the food is the most delightful of all the experiences, but not as much as the experience as a whole to create.

So although I do think about food all the damn time now, I’m thinking of it as an artist thinks of Yellow Ochre or Vermilion Red; as a means but not, by any means, the end.

I didn’t know if I could do it. I didn’t know if could fake a “meatloaf” which tasted as good as or better than the regular, carnivore variety. But thanks to VegeUSA’s frighteningly “meaty” lineup of TVP, I managed to make a most excellent meatloaf the other night.

Most people don’t like meatloaf, regardless if they’re vegetarians or carnivores. I, however, loved meatloaf, adored it actually. I believe my affection for this underrated loaf is a direct result of my childhood affinity for inexpensive foodstuffs. For example, I would kill for a liverwurst or fried baloney sandwich. Kill. I would go one step further if yellow mustard was involved. I also had a special place in my arteries for Cheez Whiz™. Cheez Whiz with Lay’s™ potato chips was the best, but Steak-Ums™ with fried onions topped with ketchup on toasted Wonder Bread™ was a close second. What can I say?

I think this meatless meatloaf is fantastic, but you can tweak it as you see fit. You can make your meatloaf Cajun with a few Bayou-inspired spices (thyme, paprika, black pepper, cayenne, oregano and a dash o’ salt). Or give it a taste of Thai with some lemon grass, peanuts, bean sprouts, cilantro, lime juice, brown sugar, and green onions, then top the loaf with sweet chili sauce. Custom your meatloaf as you see fit; it’s your meatloaf. Take it back and fall in love with this cheapie meal on your own terms.

Rae’s Old School-style Veggie Meatloaf

• 2 cups pre-soaked TVP, ground
• 1 carrot, chopped
• 2 celery ribs, chopped
• 1/2 medium sweet onion, chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1/2 cup rolled oats
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 1/2 cup fat-free yogurt or soygurt
• 2 Tbls vegetarian beef broth or vegetable stock
• 1 Tbls parsley
• 1 tsp ground rosemary
• 1 tsp ground black pepper
• 1 tsp thyme
• 1 tsp tarragon
• dash cayenne pepper

1. Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees. In a frying pan, sauté the carrot, celery, onion and garlic till they’re softened. Pour the veggies into a large bowl.
2. Mix remaining ingredients with the cooked veggies, blending thoroughly. Pat mixture into a lightly greased loaf pan. Cook veggie loaf in pre-heated oven for one hour, till the top is slightly crisp. Let the loaf set up for ten to fifteen minutes. Serve immediately with barbecue sauce or ketchup.

Makes 6 Servings

Remember to let the meatloaf setup. If you don’t, it’ll fall apart as you remove it from the pan. It still tastes great, but the unique experience of having your “meat” served to you in loaf form will be lost.

I’ve been feeling pretty good about myself since I started my new routine. I’m working harder, I feel better, and my muscles are firming up beautifully. But the new routine doesn’t sit right with some old injuries; Leftie, my bum left knee, has been muttering and making some noise in the way of jabby pain. I don’t pay Leftie no mind; Leftie’s a weenie who talks to much. And he’s a bastard when he’s drunk.

I’m guessing Leftie wanted to be heard, since last night, he started banging around and woke me up and kept me up. I’d like to say I woke up to screaming pain, but I’m not much of a screamer. I’ll say I was in whining and whimpering pain, since that was what I did when I woke up; whine and sniffle.

Whatever you call it, I hurt in a baaaaad way. I haven’t felt so crappy since September. I think the new interval training got Leftie all hot and bothered. I waited four hours before crawling out of my nice warm bed to pop a Vicodin leftover from July.

This was a big deal. I hate pills. I loathe them all, but I especially dislike high power pain killers, such as Vicodin or Codeine. I don’t like the numb, knocked out feeling that seeps through my body as my pain, and everything else, is temporarily blacked out. It sucks to be me though, since all I got were my lights turned off, not the pain. Uh-oh. Is this bad? Is my knee backsliding? Can I still workout?! WTF!!?

Wow, I’m not even thinking about how this injury will affect me beyond hampering my cardio. I wonder if my priorities are mixed up or if that’s the painkiller…

I’m thinking about calling around to doctors today to see if anyone has a cancellation. It’s snowing like mad outside so someone is bound to say “screw it” about their appointment. Then Rae’ll be there to get that time slot. Aww right!

It’ll be a Catch 22 if I do get a time slot today, though. I drive a stick shift. I shift with my left knee. Leftie is my left knee. If I don’t pop another Vicodin I’ll be cursing the whole way. But if I do take some more painkiller, I don’t think a busted left knee will be my worst complaint if I fall asleep behind the wheel. Decisions, decisions.