Joining the Thin Club

The Michigan 40

You've heard of the Freshman 15? 

Well, since I've moved to Michigan, I put on 40 pounds.  The sad fact is, I'm not alone.  I look around me in grocery stores, at the gym - everywhere - people here seem to be overweight - even obese.

After losing 90 lbs - watching the scale - and my wardrobe as they inflate - has been disheartening - to say the least.  I've been resistant to posting on my blog - so ashamed of gaining weight.  I wrote a book about the psychology of weight loss - and here I am gaining weight.  What's that about? So this week, after my husband gently reminded me that my belly was kind of preceding me - I finally heeded my own call to action.  I've taken control.

Step One - I stepped up my gym presence.  Even though I'm fat, working out makes me feel better.  I'm hoping I can break the cycle of feeling bad, eating, feeling worse, low energy and gym resistence.  Going to the gym makes me feel strong and healthy - even when there is a bit too much jiggle.

Step Two - I really tried to get to the root of what was eating ME - and only then did I step back and really thought about what I was eating.  This was probably the toughest step because it involved introspection, realizing that I was out of control, and determining that I want to be IN CONTROL.  I realized that in certain areas of my life I am not in control.  But it doesn't have to be that way with my waistline.  Now I'm in position to take my life back.  This is a whole blog post in itself.  I will follow up as I continue to explore.

Step Three - I acknowledged that although I love my husband, I have not been happy in my new life in Michigan.  That may or may not change.  But I don't have to be unhappy AND overweight.  It's kind of like wearing a big, fat sign - "I hate my life!"  And clearly, I'm not the only one - there are depressed people all over Michigan wearing the same sign.  It's a club I'd rather not join.  So I've ditched the sign.

So, here I am on day 3 of what will hopefully be the road to recovery.  I don't have a clearcut goal - other than wanting to ditch the Michigan 40 and feel better.  I'll be working through my issues - one pound at a time - and strengthening my body and my mind.  With help from above, hopefully I can tackle the challenges.

I guess the one upside about yo-yo dieting is that I know I can do it.  I've done it before!

Identity Crisis

I'm 97

...as in wait-number, not age.  I'm on line at the Secretary of State in Washtenaw County, Michigan.  That sounds so impressive, as if I'm taking a meeting with a lofty government official, but it's not really.  I'm waiting to take the final steps in changing my identity, getting my new Michigan driver's license with my new name - Judith Segaloff - the final document that officially appoints me a woman with a new name and an official resident of the state of Michigan.

84...85...

The line is moving fast.  I've always hated lines, even in New York.  I find them demoralizing and insulting.  After so many years of blasting through the less tangible lines in my life -- making friends in high places, catepulting my way into circles of influences with a smile, a business card, some fancy words--lines like this one bring you down.  They remind you that there are no special priviliges in some arenas--when you are waiting for a driver's license, you're not so special--everybody waits.

86...

Yet I wish this line would slow down to allow me to collect my thoughts.  If they only knew how fast they were racing, they'd give me a ticket on the spot!

87...

Stop!  I want to shout, "Stop calling those numbers!  Just let me be ME--whoever I am at the moment!"  Judith Steinberg - born in New Jersey.  Judith Lederman - the name I never officially assumed after my first marriage.  My babies were born Lederman.  My books were bylined Lederman.  In business I was known as Lederman.  But yesterday I sat and waited on another line - number C145 - and I obliterated another piece of myself - my name.  It's something I never did officially for my first husband.  "This is huge," I told my new husband.  I will now forever be known as Judith Segaloff.  Who am I?

88...

Judith Segaloff is a clean slate - an unknown entity.  I did a pipl.com deep web search and found--nothing.  Judith Segaloff in Michigan until yesterday did not exist.  I've been born anew.  It's like being in the Witness Protection Program.  I'm a complete stranger in a strange land, surrounded by strangers.  How will I ever find myself again?

89...

Even though I love my husband with all my heart, and moving to be with him was never so much as a question in my mind, I never anticipated these feelings of complete alienation.  Never have I felt so distant and separated from the people who love me and the places that my whole life I have called home.

90...91...

My grandson, my sons, my daughter, my parents, all my friends.  Familiar roads, familiar highways, familiar names.  The Department of Motor Vehicles - THAT'S the place we go to in New York - we don't visit the Secretary of State.  There are so many differences - beyond the miles - between there and here.

92...

Here I'm always getting lost.  It feels like I'm constantly traveling in circles, trying to figure out where I am, where I'm supposed to be, how to circumvent huge buildings - part of the sprawling campus of the University of Michigan - law schools, libraries, dental schools, hospitals, museums.  Who could have dreamed that getting married would make me feel lost.  My poor befuddled brain is screaming, begging for anything that invokes the familiar - a condo complex that reminds me of Crestwood in Yonkers, a pretty neighborhood that looks like Wykagel in New Rochelle, Starbucks, anything that sort of looks like "home."  Although to date I've yet to see anything that even remotely reminds me of New York City.  I'm lost!  How do I find myself?

93...94...

I need warmth and welcoming.  Not phony platitudes or people asking me how my day is going in the grocery store.  I need my stepson to smile at me - and mean it.  I need someone to call me up and ask me to come over for coffee.  I need real people to help me figure out who I am - now that I'm no longer Judy Steinberg, born in Newark or Judy Lederman, that marketing consultant from New York.

95...

Why am I here? 

96...97...

TIMES UP!

I go to the counter.  Papers fly  - documents that trace my life from birth through this very moment.  Papers that tell other people - not me - who I was, who I am.  Judith Segaloff.  A new license plate and the nice lady, Cristine, instructs me to stand in front of the camera to take a photo for my new driver's license.  "Take off your hat," she directs me.  "I'm sorry, I can't," I explain.  "I cover my hair for religious reasons.  I'm an orthodox Jewish married woman." 

"I've never heard of that before," she frowns and goes to her supervisor.  A hefty black woman comes over to the counter, and she repeats authoritatively, "You'll have to remove your hat, otherwise they will not process your license."  I reiterate that my hair remains covered for religious reasons and I cannot remove my hat.  "With all the burkas in nearby Dearborn, you mean to tell me that you make Moslem women remove their headgear for photos?" I ask shrewdly.  Both women disappear behind a desk and the telephone lights up.  I wait and I stand firm.  Sometimes a little New York is a good thing.  Five minutes later, the word comes down from the auspicious Secretary of State of Michigan.  My hat stays on for the license photo.  And in that five minutes I figured out who I am - an orthodox Jewish married woman named Judith Segaloff who is living in Michigan and is here to let people know just who I am. 

Confessions and Apologies...

I'm in the process of getting ready for the big day of confessions - Yom Kippur.  Unlike other religions, the Jewish religion gives us one annual massive opportunity to confront ourselves.  To stare at our "soulular" image and to rip open our hearts.  Even though we can repent -- and are encouraged to do so every day -- Yom Kippur is the day when self-examination, introspection and hopefully finding a peaceful place within us to acknowledge our strengths, weaknesses and the "improvement zones," comes to a serious crescendo. 

Many simply associate Yom Kippur as a day when we don't eat.  True that.  But the day isn't about beating ourselves into submission.  Fasting is just one of the tools we use to confront our spiritual selves - our souls that need no food to nourish - rather they require prayer and silent confession.

Confronting one's soul is a massive task.  We talk about transparency in this day of Internet - where all your missteps and comments are traceable--indelible footprints that can confront you at any point and time.  If you believe in G-d, transparency is a concept you are familiar with.  You know that we are all transparent - even when our sins are locked away in the recesses of our minds.  And on Yom Kippur we stand, cowering before our Creator, and we admit our sins. 

Rationalizations, though common defenses by most all year round, are unacceptable on Yom Kippur.  The "I'm OK, you're OK" mentality just doesn't hold up.  No excuses or rationalizations are given or accepted.  And pain that we've caused others cannot be excused by G-d.  We are commanded to confront one another - and offer our sincere apologies for any pain we caused them with our words or actions.

So, this season, as I confront my own demons - both online, offline, within myself and beyond - let me please extend apologies to anyone that I have hurt in any way this year.  Whether it was through written words, spoken words or actions, please know that I am sincerely sorry.  And I promise not to do it again--and to be a better person.  I humbly beg you to forgive me.

Tomorrow evening, I face myself dead-on.  And G-d.  And I will pray for all mankind, that we merit G-d's mercy and compassion and that He bestows upon each human being on this planet, peace.  It's what we all need this New Year.

Shake Up Your Exercise

I don't know about you, but I've become a bit of an exercise nut since losing the weight. Not only is it an important element of keeping the weight off, it's really become a highlight of my day (and yes, I really do exercise every day!). It's part of my day that's just for me, where I can escape the daily grind of work and the everyday stresses of home life. Depending on the kind of exercise, I can let my mind wander or make myself focus 100% on my physical movement.

That being said, any routine gets to be a little boring after a while. If you're feeling the exercise blahs, don't let it sap your enthusiasm. Try something new.

How many of the following have you tried?

-Kickboxing

-Ballet

-Yoga and Pilates

-Distance running. Maybe a marathon is the new goal you've been searching for?

-Pole dancing. Yes, really. A lot of exercise clubs are starting to offer classes!

-Joining a softball or other sports team

-Swimming

-Ballroom dancing

-Surfing

-Belly dancing

-Skiing or snowboarding

-Hiking

-Rock climbing

Give something new a shot, and you'll find that you're back to your high-energy self in no time.

before and after

I was about 225 pounds before I lost the weight. That's nearly twice what I weigh now. I carry a "before" picture with me everywhere I go. It might sound strange, but it really comes in handy. I show it to doctors, as part of an overall conversation about my health. When I was first starting to shop for my new "Thin Club" wardrobe, I showed it to sales clerks in clothing stores, so they'd know I needed advice on what size to try on and what styles would look good on my fabulous new figure. And I LOVE showing it to new friends, who can't believe the woman in the picture could possibly be the same person.

People I've known for years, of course, often don't recognize the new me. Not only am I thinner, I'm stronger. More active. More confident. More outgoing.  Showing them the "before" picture serves as a sort of I.D. card, a way to prove it's really me.

But my "before" picture is so much more. It's a talisman, a symbol of just how far I've come. On days when I'd like nothing better than to skip the gym and make a trip to the bakery instead, the "before" picture helps remind me that I am never going back to being that person. I love who I am now.

Share your "before and after" stories in the comments. If you'd like to show off your "before and after" pictures in a future post, shoot me an e-mail!