I've learned the hard way: If I want to lose weight, I must eat.
It sounds counter-intuitive, but it's true, at least for my body.
When people compliment me on my thinner body and ask, "Now, don't you feel better?" I will respond, if I know them well, in this way: Not necessarily. When I went from obesity to pretty-close-to-ideal-weight, I found I'd traded one set of health risks for another.
When I was obese, I could hold off on the morning meal until mid-morning, or skip it altogether. Or, if I had an early-morning appointment, I could rationalize, "I'll grab something to eat later."
A couple trips to the ER in the Divine Savior Healthcare ambulance have put that rationalization to rest.
Both happened while I was on an assignment for the newspaper where I've worked for 10 years. One incident happened in record-breaking September heat. The other happened on a chilly December day.
The symptoms were the same, and so was the treatment.
I'd feel dizzy. I'd sit down -- on the ground, if there were no chairs or benches nearby. And still the world around me would spin.
The EMTs (in Portage, it was usually somebody I knew who took care of me) would start an IV in the ambulance, and report that I was dehydrated and my blood sugar was low. Sometimes, while lying on my back, I'd experience hallucinations -- pleasant hallucinations, usually, but they were still unreal. In the ER, they'd make me stay until I'd absorbed a full bag of fluids through my IV, and until I'd had a meal (I know the chef at Divine Savior, too -- and the food's pretty darn good there).
A follow-up with my doctor ruled out any life-threatening underlying cause for these episodes.
I need to eat. I need to drink water. Or else I'll get sick. It's as simple as that.
I wish I could say I've learned this lesson once and for all. But as recently as last month, I showed up for an early-morning physical therapy session with Dan S. on an empty stomach, thinking I'd finish my PT, and maybe have a swim afterwards, before I'd "grab something." When I confessed to feeling pep-less, Dan scolded me, as he should have, for not eating breakfast. The following week, I showed up for PT properly fueled and hydrated.
So what's my morning fuel of choice?
My fave: An omelet made with Southwest Style Egg Beaters (with bits of pepper in the egg), topped with a small amount of cheddar or pepper-jack, and slathered in chunky salsa.
Another fave, especially in the winter: Plain old oatmeal, with a little sugar-free maple syrup and raisins stirred in.
My version of the Egg McMuffin: A 100-calorie whole-grain English muffin, spread with reduced-fat cream cheese and topped with two poached Egg Beaters eggs and a little pepper.
I tried something new today, and it was delicious. I spread reduced-fat cream cheese on two whole-grain low-fat frozen waffles, topped that with sugar-free strawberry jam and poured on a little sugar-free maple syrup. Ah, comfort food.
And now, I'm ready for my work day. But first, a swim.
It sounds counter-intuitive, but it's true, at least for my body.
When people compliment me on my thinner body and ask, "Now, don't you feel better?" I will respond, if I know them well, in this way: Not necessarily. When I went from obesity to pretty-close-to-ideal-weight, I found I'd traded one set of health risks for another.
When I was obese, I could hold off on the morning meal until mid-morning, or skip it altogether. Or, if I had an early-morning appointment, I could rationalize, "I'll grab something to eat later."
A couple trips to the ER in the Divine Savior Healthcare ambulance have put that rationalization to rest.
Both happened while I was on an assignment for the newspaper where I've worked for 10 years. One incident happened in record-breaking September heat. The other happened on a chilly December day.
The symptoms were the same, and so was the treatment.
I'd feel dizzy. I'd sit down -- on the ground, if there were no chairs or benches nearby. And still the world around me would spin.
The EMTs (in Portage, it was usually somebody I knew who took care of me) would start an IV in the ambulance, and report that I was dehydrated and my blood sugar was low. Sometimes, while lying on my back, I'd experience hallucinations -- pleasant hallucinations, usually, but they were still unreal. In the ER, they'd make me stay until I'd absorbed a full bag of fluids through my IV, and until I'd had a meal (I know the chef at Divine Savior, too -- and the food's pretty darn good there).
A follow-up with my doctor ruled out any life-threatening underlying cause for these episodes.
I need to eat. I need to drink water. Or else I'll get sick. It's as simple as that.
I wish I could say I've learned this lesson once and for all. But as recently as last month, I showed up for an early-morning physical therapy session with Dan S. on an empty stomach, thinking I'd finish my PT, and maybe have a swim afterwards, before I'd "grab something." When I confessed to feeling pep-less, Dan scolded me, as he should have, for not eating breakfast. The following week, I showed up for PT properly fueled and hydrated.
So what's my morning fuel of choice?
My fave: An omelet made with Southwest Style Egg Beaters (with bits of pepper in the egg), topped with a small amount of cheddar or pepper-jack, and slathered in chunky salsa.
Another fave, especially in the winter: Plain old oatmeal, with a little sugar-free maple syrup and raisins stirred in.
My version of the Egg McMuffin: A 100-calorie whole-grain English muffin, spread with reduced-fat cream cheese and topped with two poached Egg Beaters eggs and a little pepper.
I tried something new today, and it was delicious. I spread reduced-fat cream cheese on two whole-grain low-fat frozen waffles, topped that with sugar-free strawberry jam and poured on a little sugar-free maple syrup. Ah, comfort food.
And now, I'm ready for my work day. But first, a swim.
So true. And yet I still find it hard to do.
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