Penny and the Peanut Butter Bone

An odd solution to a puppy problem.

I am an early riser. I have been for at least the past 15 years. I’m usually up and out of bed by 6 AM. My body wakes up and, since I either didn’t want to wake my soon-to-be ex-husband or I had things to do, I’d get up and start my day.

My day starts with a routine that I’ve shared with Alex the Bird for almost 10 years — since Alex the Bird came into my life. I throw on some clothes, come into the kitchen, and brew some coffee, often reciting the mantra “Coffee is the most important thing” — a phrase that Alex the Bird still hasn’t picked up. While the coffee brews, I prepare Alex’s scrambled egg in the microwave. I cut up half of the egg and give it to Alex in a little dish atop her cage. Then I settle down at the table with my coffee and my laptop or iPad and enjoy the very first cup of coffee for the day while catching up on Twitter or writing a blog post — like this one.

(When I was home in Wickenburg or Phoenix with my dog Jack and then Charlie, the routine also included letting him out for his morning pee, putting a scoop of food into his dog dish, and topping off his water. He’d get half of Alex’s egg, then wait around Alex’s cage for the pieces of egg that dropped and gobble them all up. But those days are apparently gone for good, so it’s best not to dwell on them.)

The routine is pretty much the same when I live in the Mobile Mansion in Washington. After all, coffee is the most important thing.

Enter Penny the Tiny Dog. Or Tiny Puppy right now. Her routine is a bit different. After her morning pee, she comes in and cleans up after Alex the Bird’s scrambled egg droppings. And then she comes to me where I’m invariably sitting at my desk and starts jumping up on me. She wants to play.

Of course, I’m just getting started on my coffee. Not even half of it is gone. I’m not ready to play. Heck, I’m not even fully conscious sometimes.

A side note here…yesterday, one of my Facebook friends shared one of those images with a message — you know, the kind always floating around Facebook. This one said:

My favorite coffee in the morning is the one where no one talks to me while I drink it.

My reply was:

Mine is the one where a tiny dog doesn’t jump all over me for attention while I’m drinking it.

Making the Peanut Butter BoneThe solution is to distract her with something more interesting and rewarding than me rolling around on the floor with her. And that solution involves a beef soup bone and some peanut butter.

I bought the bone at the supermarket about a month ago. It didn’t take her long to eat the marrow out the ends. The bone is nice and dry and kind of clean. The holes on either end go in pretty deep. Sometimes she still plays with it.

I bought the peanut butter to bait the mousetraps. I don’t really like Skippy because it has sugar in it and I don’t think peanut butter should have added sugar. And although I like peanut butter, sometime over the past 10 years or so I’ve developed a sort of allergy to it; after eating it, I just don’t feel quite “right.” I switched to cashew butter, which is harder to find but very tasty. Of course, it’s not on my diet, so I don’t have any around for me or the mice. So I went to the supermarket and bought the smallest, cheapest jar of peanut butter they had. It turned out to be Skippy. I don’t care about feeding sugar to the mice.

Penny and her Peanut Butter BoneOne day, on a whim, I put a bit of peanut butter in each end of the bone and gave it to her. I was rewarded with about 15 minutes of peace and quiet to finish my coffee. Afterwards, she found something else to keep her busy.

Now it’s part of our morning routine. When she’d done cleaning up after Alex and she starts jumping up on me to play, I prepare the peanut butter bone and give it to her. I can then enjoy my coffee in peace.

The only problem is, she’s getting really good at licking that peanut butter out of the holes.

32 Pounds is a Lot to Carry Around

And I got proof of that today.

I like to hike. I like taking long walks on trails — especially cool, wooded trails winding alongside canyons or rivers. I love to be out in nature, to breathe the fresh air, to smell the plants around me. I really like hiking in solitary places, where I’m not likely to run into another group of hikers with their annoying children or loud chatter, so I can let my dog hike off-leash with me, running ahead, sniffing around, and then darting after me to catch up when she falls behind.

Unfortunately, I was never able to handle uphill climbs. I always got short of breath on any hike that required me to do any climbing at all. I took frequent rest breaks, often holding back some of my companions. It was as if my lungs just weren’t up to the task. This goes way back — I recall doing a hike at Lake George not long after meeting my soon-to-be ex-husband back when I was only 22 and being the second to last person to reach the mountaintop fire tower that was our destination.

Downhill was not an issue. I can hike downhill all day long. Doesn’t matter how steep or how far. Gravity apparently helps out enough that my lungs can deal with it.

Of course, the situation didn’t get any better as I aged or gained weight. Last year I went for a hike in Wenatchee to Saddle Rock with my neighbor and wound up sending him on ahead because I felt bad about him waiting for me. It was a fact of my life, something I dealt with. But not something I wanted friends to have to deal with, too.

So imagine my surprise when I took a short hike this afternoon up a mountain road with an elevation gain of 350 feet in less than half a mile — and didn’t need to stop once for a rest.

View During My HikeI’d tried the same hike back in the end of July — just over a month ago! — and got less than 1/4 mile with four rest breaks. But today, I “motored” up the hill like it was a walk in the park, passed the gate that was my original destination, and walked another 1/2 mile beyond it. I was rewarded with a stroll through tall pine trees and an incredible view of the valley beyond.

I did work up a tiny bit of a sweat on the walk, but I think that’s because it was still pretty warm out — maybe even in the low 80s. Never really got my pulse going, though. And on the way back (when I used GPSTrack to measure the elevation change and distance of the hike), I averaged 3.3 MPH.

I can only assume my newfound energy — or excess lung capacity — is due to the 32 pounds of extra weight I’ve dropped in the past 11 weeks. What else could explain my sudden ability to climb hills?

A gateI do know for certain that the weight loss made it possible for me to slip between the bars of this gate instead of trying to open or climb it. I don’t know the bar spacing, but I know damn well I would not have been able to pass through three months ago.

Regular readers of this blog might be wondering why I keep blogging about my weight. Simply put: I’m amazed by the change. If I knew that I’d look this good and feel this good with 30 pounds off my body, I would have done this years ago. Or never have gotten so overweight.

And I’m also writing this to encourage other people who are overweight to do something about it. Yes, it’s hard. Yes, there are sacrifices. But the way you’ll feel when that weight is off is worth all the effort and sacrifice you made.

Like me, you’ll feel like a new person. I promise.

As for me, my new goal is only 10 pounds away. I should be there before I go back to Arizona in October. Can’t wait to get into those old jeans stored away in the closet!

Dancing in the Moonlight

Triggering memories with just a song title.

This morning, at 3 AM, a mouse walked into the humane mousetrap I’d set at the bottom of Alex the Bird’s cage. As it struggled to get out, the rattling of the little plastic trap woke me up. At 3 AM.

I’m not sleeping well these days and once I was up and had silenced the trap I couldn’t get back to sleep. I reached for my iPad and checked out Twitter and Facebook. My U.K. friends are always up in the middle of my night and I thought they might have something interesting to say or some interesting link to follow. Something to keep my mind off the personal problems that are making sleep so tough these days.

I found a Facebook update from a pilot friend who’d just returned from an overseas contract. I’m assuming he won’t mind if I reproduce it here:

I have not used Pandora on my phone for about a month.This morning before I select Pandora to plug into the jeep I am singing “Dancin’ in the Moonlight”! It was the last song I had on A month ago! I did not remember that, but my subconscious did!

Ball and Chain Ad
Image from killingtime2 on Flickr.

And that triggered a memory from forty years ago…sitting on my bed in the attic bedroom I shared with my sister, listening to “Dancing in the Moonlight” by King Harvest on a Panasonic “Ball and Chain” AM radio. My radio was dark blue, my bedspread and the wallpaper were pink. It was 1972, the year the song came out, and I was about 11 years old. I was just beginning my “music enlightenment” — discovering that there was more music than the Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole my parents listened to on their console stereo downstairs. I tuned into WWDJ in those days, a Hackensack, NJ-based pop radio station.

I remember fiddling with the tuning dial on that radio, picking up weak signals from faraway places like Chicago and Philadelphia and Boston.

I clearly remember listening to other Top 40 pop songs on that silly little radio: Precious and Few (Climax), Also Sprach Zarathustra (theme from 2001; Deodado), Crocodile Rock and Bennie and the Jets (Elton John), Your Mama Don’t Dance (Loggins and Messina), My Maria (B.W. Stevenson), Ain’t No Sunshine and Lean on Me (Bill Withers), American Pie (Don McLean), An Old Fashioned Love Song and Shambala (Three Dog Night), Does Anybody Really Know What Time it Is? (Chicago), Oye Como Va (Santana), Angie (Rolling Stones), Pick Up the Pieces (Average White Band), I Shot the Sheriff (Eric Clapton), Killing Me Softly with His Song (Roberta Flack), My Love (Paul McCartney and Wings), Alone Again (Naturally) (Gilbert O’Sulllivan), Brandy (Looking Glass), A Horse with No Name (America), Without You (Nilsson), I can See Clearly Now (Johnny Nash), The Candy Man (Sammy Davis, Jr.), I Am Woman (Helen Reddy), Nights in White Satin (The Moody Blues), Song Sung Blue (Neil Diamond), Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree (Tony Orlando & Dawn), You’re So Vain (Carly Simon), Superstition (Stevie Wonder), Let’s Get It On (Marvin Gaye), Photograph (Ringo Starr), Half-Breed (Cher), Brother Louie (Stories), Love Train (The O’Jays), Will It Go Round in Circles (Billy Preston), Kodachrome (Paul Simon), Give Me Love (George Harrison), and Time in a Bottle (Jim Croce). With a little help from Top 40 songs lists, I can go on and on. What kids today call “oldies” is what I listened to on that silly little radio in the early 1970s.

I was listening to that radio in my bedroom when Jim Croce‘s death in a plane crash was announced in 1973.

In 1973, I began buying record albums and playing them on a portable turntable set up in a corner of our room. I still have those albums, many of which have the year of purchase written in the upper corner of the album jacket.

In 1974, WWDJ suddenly switched to an all-religion broadcast. By then, I’d begun exploring FM radio with WNEW-FM, a real rock station, on the same console that played Sinatra for my parents downstairs.

All those memories, triggered by a Facebook update.

This morning, when I sat down at my computer, I decided to play Dancing In the Moonlight. I was very surprised to find that it wasn’t on my Mac in iTunes. Easily remedied: I went to Amazon.com, did a search, and had the MP3 playing within minutes. 99¢ wasn’t much of a financial burden for a music-based flashback.

For a moment, in my mind, I was back in that old attic bedroom with that silly little radio on my bedside table, listening to its tinny sound. Back then, could I ever imagine that I’d be listening to the song from my computer, plugged into a surround-sound system in an RV in the middle of Washington State? I don’t think so.

And to my Facebook friend: thanks for triggering the memory.

Boating without Mike

And with him.

I took my boat out yesterday.

My BoatIt isn’t much of a boat: 1995 Sea Ray F-16 Searayder. It has a jet ski engine. Nice in shallow water (until you suck up weeds or sand). Holds up to 5 people or up to 750 pounds. (Hell, my helicopter can carry more weight.) I bought it at the end of last year and made the mistake of leaving it up in Washington. I should have left my RV, the mobile mansion, which costs a fortune to tow 1,200 miles at 6-8 miles per gallon. We didn’t use the mobile mansion in Arizona (although we almost did), but I know we would have used that boat a lot.

Just another one of my mistakes.

This Season’s Boat Outings

This was my fourth outing this season — and the first in more than two months. The first outing, in early June after I had it repaired (read about that) was just to learn how to put it in the water, start it, drive it, and get it back out of the water. If you’ve never managed a boat by yourself, you might not appreciate how tricky this could be. I came up with a system that works for me.

The second outing was a trip from Crescent Bar up to Spanish Castle — or where Spanish Castle used to be — and a long drift back down the river. That trip was great because the water was as smooth as glass and I could get the boat up to its top speed of about 35 miles per hour.

Boating

The third outing, later in the month, was with my friend Jim and covered pretty much the same territory. It was great to get out on the water with a friend.

Boating with Jim

Yesterday’s Outing

I didn’t take the boat out for two months after that. There are a few reasons, the biggest being that I had to finish a book I was working on. I couldn’t play with that work hanging over me. Unfortunately, the book took two months to finish — which isn’t like me at all — mostly because of the distraction of my upcoming divorce. I simply couldn’t concentrate.

Oddly, I’d really looked forward to taking the boat out with Mike. In May, he’d talked about coming up with our dog, Charlie, and spending the summer with me. I was looking forward to going out in the boat with the two of them on nice days when we were both finished with work. I even thought about camping on West Bar, across from Crescent Bar; I had all our good camping gear with me and it would have made an easy overnight trip.

But by the end of June, it was pretty clear that that would never happen.

Even though my work on the book had been done for about a week, I’d been putting off taking the boat out. I honestly didn’t feel like going out alone. But I loaded it up today, hooked it up to the truck, and dragged it to the hydropark where there’s a boat ramp just upriver from Rock Island Dam. I’d never launched there, but I’d scouted it out on a walk with Penny the day before. It was a nice ramp with a floating dock that had lots of cleats. Cleats are important for securing a boat when you’re launching it by yourself.

Penny on the BoatI backed the boat in and launched it without much trouble, then pulled it around to the other side of the dock so I’d be out of the way in case anyone else wanted to launch or come back in. I secured it with two ropes, then parked the truck and trailer, put a leash on Penny, and came back out to the boat. I put Penny in and stepped in after her. Then I put on her life jacket, fastened the leash to it, and fastened the leash to one of the boat’s handholds. This was the first time I’d taken Penny on the boat — I got her at the end of June as a sort of birthday gift to myself — and I was glad to see that she didn’t have a problem with the silly life jacket I’d bought her.

The boat didn’t start right away, which really didn’t surprise me much. But then it came to life. I let it idle with the choke on for a short time, then cast off the front rope. I got back into my seat, cast off the other rope, pushed the choke back in, and pushed the throttle forward. We eased out into the Columbia River.

It wasn’t long before I picked up speed. I cruised at about 28 miles per hour (according to a GPS app on my phone) straight up the river. I’d learned that one way to save gas and have a nice quiet ride was to motor upriver, cut the engine, and drift back. I took it all the way up to the Rocky Reach Dam — or as close as I felt comfortable going. The water had some weird currents on the downriver side of the dam and I didn’t like the look of them.

With the engine off, it got nice and quiet. I turned on the stereo, which I’d had installed back in June. It had a weird little drawer for holding an iPhone or iPod. You’d plug in your device and the stereo would charge it and play music. You could still use a Bluetooth earpiece for the phone if a call came in. I bought the stereo so I could listen to music and not have to worry about my battery dying in my phone when I was out during a cherry contract.

Penny's Life JacketPenny, who’d been crouching under the steering console out of the wind, came out to see what was up. I unfastened the leash and gave her free run of the boat. She seemed only mildly interested. Later, I put the leash back on and sat her up on the boat’s engine lid. She hung out there for a while, sniffing around, then seemed to get bored so I put her back in the boat and took the leash off again. She settled down on the carpet to nap.

It was warm out, with the sun filtered through high, thin clouds. I was wearing my bathing suit — which fits better now than it has in years — and a pair of men’s nylon swim shorts. I decided to take in some sun so I stripped off the shorts and stretched out on the engine lid in the sun. I lay there like that for a long while, listening to music through surprisingly good sounding speakers and feeling the breeze against my hair and skin as the boat drifted down the middle of the Columbia River at about 3-1/2 miles per hour.

It was very pleasant.

Boating with Mike

Unfortunately, every time I relax and clear my mind of whatever tasks I’m doing, memories of the past 29 years of my life and the way my marriage ended creep into my mind. This time, those thoughts focused around boating.

Mike and I had been boating many times in those 29 years.

One of my earliest memories of us together on a boat is on a Lake George camping trip with a bunch of friends. I think Mike and I had been together only a month or so at the time. The campsites could only be reached by boat, so we’d rented a few small motorboats to get there. On one ride after we’d set up camp, Mike’s brother was at the controls and drove us into a weird little set of waves. The boat went up and down and every time it went down, water came over the bow. It got so bad that we had to take it into shore, pull the engine off, and dump the boat out. We were that close to sinking. Mike’s brother got a lot of grief for that one.

We also went canoeing with friends on the Delaware River. I remember one trip distinctly because Mike’s brother and sister-in-law (now separated) had, for some reason, switched partners with another couple (now divorced). The canoe with Mike’s brother and the other woman — I think her name was Patty — capsized at the first rapid. Patty lost her glasses and was miserable for the rest of the day.

And then there were the boating trips with my dad. My dad had a fast boat he’d put into the Hudson River at the George Washington Bridge. He’d then take it out for a spin around Manhattan Island. (We did this quite a bit when I was a kid, but in smaller boats.) I clearly remember Mike and my dad and I standing up behind the boat’s windscreen with our faces out in the wind. The water was like glass on the Harlem River and my dad must have had that boat up to 70 or 80 miles an hour. We were passing cars on the Harlem River Drive. The wind was pushing the face of my skin back and I was laughing, having the time of my life.

My mother and stepdad also had a boat. We’d go boating with them out on the Long Island Sound and then later, when they moved to Florida, on the Intracoastal Waterway near St. Augustine. I remember a boat ride in a bad storm on the Long Island Sound. Scary exciting! On another ride in Florida, I remember seeing dolphins jumping alongside the boat. It was magical.

We did a rafting trip down the Colorado River with our friends Fred and Cheri (still married). Seven days, camping every night. We made friends with a lot of people, including Ed, who just happened to be a geologist. Can you imagine floating down through the Grand Canyon seated next to a geologist? I got terrible sunburn and was dehydrated every day but I still had an amazing time.

And then there were the house boating trips. We did two of them on Lake Powell. The first was amazing — definitely one of the top 10 vacations in my life. We went with Fred and Cheri and Oscar and Lily (now separated but living under the same roof). We cruised from Halls Crossing down to Dangling Rope Marina and back over the course of a week, exploring side canyons and hiking in the red rocks. We came in for fuel at Dangling Rope a little too fast and bashed the boat into the dock — fortunately, no damage. Poor Lily completely wigged out when she discovered that the pay phone at the marina wasn’t working. She actually found someone to place a call back to New York for her using a shortwave radio. The second, shorter houseboat trip wasn’t nearly as good. We went with my mom and stepdad and I don’t think they really appreciated the remote beauty of Lake Powell. Oh, well.

For Mike’s 40th birthday, I rented a patio boat on Lake Pleasant near our Wickenburg home. I invited a bunch of friends to join us for an afternoon on the lake. I bought a dozen lobster tails straight from Maine and we cooked them up on the beach. We almost swamped the boat on the way back, going too fast with too many people up front.

And then there were the jet skis. I went to a motorcycle shop to buy oil for my motorcycle one day and wound up buying a pair of used Yamaha Waverunners in excellent condition. We’d take them out on Lake Pleasant and use them like boats, motoring to a distant shore for a picnic and a swim. We’d wear our life jackets with our legs through the arm holes so they were like seats and we’d float around, keeping cool.

We took the jet skis out to Lake Havasu once and rode them all the way up to the Avi Casino Hotel on the border of Arizona, Nevada, and California — maybe 50 miles through Topok Gorge, the Needles area, and the small towns beyond. We spent the night at the hotel there and, in the morning, found our two jet skis beached. We had to wait until power demand caused enough water to be released from the dam upriver to float them again. Then we went up to the dam at Laughlin, bought some fuel, and sped all the way back. What a great overnight trip that was! A real adventure.

Then there was the trip to Big Bear Lake. We’d debated flying there in his plane or my helicopter and finally wound up just driving in my Honda S2000, which was pretty new back then. I can’t remember where we stayed, but I do remember the dinky little motorboat we rented for a tour around the lake — mostly because of this picture, which I used to carry around on my phone and iPad:

Mike Motoring

And I’ll never forget the overnight trip we did with Mike’s friend Leon and his wife (now divorced) in Leon’s huge catamaran. We sailed down the coast of New Jersey all the way to Atlantic City. I remember sitting out on the net with Mike over the front of the boat, in the wind and the spray with the full sails snapping behind us. We docked, went into a casino for dinner, and later returned to the boat where we slept in our own narrow cabin. All night, the boat rocked and the hardware on the ropes clanged gently. The next day, we sailed back.

Time to Go

As I lay out in the sun in my bathing suit out on the engine lid of my little boat, drifting down the Columbia River with my little dog, memories of all these boat trips flashed through my mind — like so many other memories from the past 29 years have been doing for the past two months. After a while, it became too much to bear.

I put my shorts back on and started up the engine. I motored all the way back to my launch point at full throttle while Penny cowered behind the steering column again.

It took two tries to dock the boat by myself. Not bad, considering I was so out of practice and there’s a current at the dock.

A while later, I was driving back to the mobile mansion with Penny beside me and the boat in tow. I was still thinking about all those boat rides, wondering whether Mike remembered them, too. Or had he somehow managed to erase the memories of the 29 years we had together?

Mike won’t read this blog post. He never reads my blog. He was never really interested in the things I blogged about.

But his lawyers will read it. And they’ll print it out and bring it to court with them as evidence. Of what, I don’t know. My fond memories of a life with a man I loved? That’s the only thing I’ve written about here.

A divorce might dissolve a marriage. But unfortunately, it can’t eliminate everything that went before it.

Next time I go boating, I’ll bring a friend.

My Experience with Aging, Weight, and Medifast

What I can tell you from my experience — and how you can avoid having to eat out of a box.

I was a skinny kid, all skin and bones. I was active — all kids who lived in the suburbs were back then — and I had good genes. My dad, after all, was 6’4″ tall and skinny as a pole.

It wasn’t until I got into junior high school that I started filling out. In eighth grade, I was probably close to my full height of 5’8″ and I was wearing jeans with a 31″ waist. I probably weighed about 130 pounds.

My Metabolism and Weight

In 1978, I started college. At the time, I still lived at home in Kings Park, NY on Long Island. I commuted to school in Hempstead, NY, a distance of about 35 miles. I also had a part time job in a clothing store near home and worked about 20 hours a week. Without any effort on my part, all that teen fat fell off me. Indeed, I couldn’t put weight on if I tried. By the spring of 1980, when I finally moved on campus, I weighed 105 pounds. I looked skeletal, like the poster girl for an eating disorder clinic.

The school meal plan cured me. Those warm, soft dinner rolls! The weight came back on slowly. When I graduated in May 1982, I weighted about 130 pounds again. I looked good — even in a bikini, which is hard to imagine now.

Fortunately, my metabolism stayed high throughout my 20s. Unfortunately, I went on the pill, which changes a woman’s normal hormonal balance. I blame that hormone change for the 10 or so pounds I gained in my 20s.

After that, as I aged, my weight rose slowly but steadily, year after year. As many of us age, we become less active. I spent a lot of time sitting in my car commuting or sitting at my desk writing books to earn a living. I wasn’t running around, eating snacks on the run instead of full meals. I had money and could afford to eat well. And I did. Very well.

Hints of a Weight Problem

My husband and I went on a Caribbean cruise back in 2002. It was the same year my brother got married. I was one of the bridesmaids and I had a typically silly dress I had to wear. I took the dress along on the cruise as my “formal wear.” The dress was a size 14 and it was snug. When I got back from the cruise, I tipped the scales at 180 pounds.

Ouch.

I started watching what I ate. I got my weight down to the 170-175 pound range. If you looked at me, you wouldn’t say, “She’s fat.” You’d say, “She’s a big girl.” I was.

My husband, in the meantime, had also porked up a bit. He was weighing in a little over 200 pounds. He’s 5’10” tall and was always very athletic. But by that time, we’d moved to Arizona where he couldn’t participate in the men’s sports he’d enjoyed back in New Jersey. He was losing muscle tone. Nothing serious, but we both noticed it.

We got on Atkins. Atkins is basically a zero-carb diet. And you can say what you like about its nutritional value or faults, but if you stick to it, it works. In a very short period of time, he got down to about 180 pounds and I got down to 160.

Captain MariaThat’s where I was when I worked as a pilot at the Grand Canyon in the summer of 2004. 160 pounds is a perfect weight for a helicopter pilot. It’s light so you can take on more passengers, cargo, or fuel. But it’s not too light to fly solo in most helicopters without adding ballast.

As for Atkins, it might work, but it’s a horrible diet for life. I simply couldn’t stick with it.

Body, Mind, and Weight Changes

In 2006, I was diagnosed with a tumor in my uterus. The “cure” was a radical hysterectomy — they basically cut me open and took out all my internal reproductive organs. (I have a cesarean scar without ever having had a baby!) Losing these parts wasn’t a huge deal for me, since I didn’t plan to have children. But it did push me through menopause at age 44.

Fortunately, the tumor was not malignant and I didn’t need any further treatment for it.

Unfortunately, menopause is a huge change in a woman’s body chemistry. Without certain hormones being produced, metabolism changes. Or at least that’s what seems to happen. I certainly porked up afterward, shooting back up to 180 pounds in no time.

Time marched on. My life changed. My relationship changed. I worked hard to keep my weight from rising. But this past winter, when I was back in Arizona, away from my friends, in a dying marriage, I ate for comfort. I ate too much. I ate the wrong things.

And I gained weight. When I left Arizona in May, I was 195 pounds.

And I could see it. Not only were all my clothes tight — some too tight to wear! — but when I looked in the mirror, I looked like an overweight, middle-aged woman. This only fed my overall feelings of depression from loneliness and my dismal marital situation.

Knowing How Much is too Much

There are lots of resources on the web to help you understand what you should weigh and why. Many of those resources go into topics like Body Mass Index and take age and other factors into consideration. I’ll keep things simple here and concentrate mainly on weight.

Healthy Weight for WomenThe Rush University Medical Center publishes a simple table of healthy weights. I took the numbers on the Female side of the table, fed them into Excel, and got the following simple chart. A healthy weight is between the two colored lines for your height.

According to this data, I should weigh 126 to 154 pounds. I was 41 pounds overweight. Ouch!

BMI CalculatorThe U.S. National Institutes of Health (NIH) has a bunch of information about healthy weight. Its Healthy Weight Tools page includes a link to a BMI Calculator. Using this calculator for my maximum healthy weight (per Rush University’s table), my BMI would be 23.4, which is considered within “Normal” range. So is 160 pounds, which is what I wanted to be.

I should mention here that the added weight was also causing health problems. Although high blood pressure and stroke run in my family, it wasn’t until I gained all that weight that my blood pressure rose beyond what’s healthy. My fear of stroke — and my desire to keep working as a pilot — forced me to get it under control with medication. I’m not a big believer in taking pills and it bothered me that I had to rely on them to keep healthy.

My Solution: Medifast

With the blood pressure situation on my mind and a divorce looming, I realized that I had to take action. I needed to take control, lose weight, and get healthy again.

Around this time, I ran into my friend Mike T. Mike’s a pilot with US Air. He’s in his late 50s and was always a big guy. I hadn’t seen him for at least two years, although we were sometimes in touch via email. When I ran into him at an FAA meeting at PHX tower, he looked remarkably different. Turns out, he’d lost 80 pounds.

Mike wound up working with me in Washington on my cherry drying contracts. When he brought his helicopter up in May with his wife and a friend, we all got together with another pilot friend, Jim, for dinner in Mattawa, WA. That’s when I discovered that his wife had lost 70 pounds. That’s right: between the two of them, they’d lost what I should weigh.

How did they do it? Medifast.

They told us a little about it at dinner. Cheryl (Mike’s wife) is a “health coach.” You can read her story on her “Take Shape for Life” website. You can also see before and after photos of her and Mike. She didn’t try to sell it to either me or Jim (who is also overweight). But by the time dinner was over, Jim was thinking hard about it. A few days later, he’d signed up. A week later, I signed up.

Medifast is a combination of specially formulated, packaged foods with a meal plan. You eat six (yes, six) meals a day. Five of those meals come out of boxes. The sixth meal is a “lean and green” that consists of lean protein (meat, chicken, or fish) plus a low carb green vegetables.

As I mentioned elsewhere, most of the box items are powder or powder plus other ingredients. You add water, then either shake, cook, or microwave. Some of the items are prepared, like snack bars or crackers. There’s a decent variety of items, so you don’t have to eat the same thing all the time.

The important part of the plan — which I didn’t understand at first — is not how much you eat but how you spread those meals out throughout the day. Generally speaking, you need 2 to 3 hours between meals. I try to eat at 6 AM, 9 AM, noon, 3 PM, 6 PM, and 9 PM.

At first, the plan was very difficult for me. I’m a foodie and love to eat good food. Although many of the Medifast options are palatable, I could never call any of them good. (Well, maybe the chocolate pudding.) I’m also a big eater and when you put a big plate of tasty food in front of me, I’m more likely to clean that plate than leave anything on it. And the Medifast meal portions are small.

The meals are formulated to be low in calories, fat, and carbs. For example, I had chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. (Well, technically it’s pancake because I make one big one.) 90 calories, 1/2 gram fat, and 11 grams net carbs. The shake I just had for meal #2 is 110 calories, 1 gram of fat, and 9 grams net carbs. The chocolate pudding I like so much is 110 calories, 1 gram fat, and 11 grams net carbs. At the same time, the meals are fortified with vitamins and minerals so you’re sure to get required nutrients.

So what the plan does is spread a small amount of nutritionally balanced caloric intake throughout the day. Your body is eating less, but it never tells itself to go into “starvation mode” and burn muscle instead of fat. And the nutrients are there, so you really never feel like you’re dieting. With normal activity (or a little extra exercise) and a lot of water to stay hydrated and flush your system out, the fat falls off.

Really.

And the good part about all this is that over time, you get used to the box food and eating less. So while the first month was miserable for me, the second was easier. I’m halfway into month 3 now and I’m not suffering at all.

I should mention here that I don’t stick to the plan like glue. Occasionally, I’ll go out to eat with friends and eat a salad that isn’t exactly a “lean and green” meal. In every single case, I’ll only eat half of the restaurant portion and bring the other half home for the next day’s lean and green meal. Amazingly, half a restaurant salad satisfies me now. I’ve cut back on my wine consumption — I probably drink just one glass a week now. And although fruit is verboten, you can’t stop me from eating fresh cherries and blueberries that I pick myself every evening.

My results? Well, I weigh myself daily and write down the results on a chart I keep on the back of the medicine cabinet door. The results either motivate or scold me. Over time, they’ve motivated me to stick with it. I also measure my bust/waist/hips once a month.

I fed the weight numbers into an Excel spreadsheet and charted them. I also did some math on the measurements.

Drum roll, please….

My Weight, ChartedIn 2-1/2 months, I’ve lost 28 pounds and a total of 11 inches, 7 of which are from my waist. I am less than 8 pounds from my goal weight of 160 pounds and am considering taking it all the way down to 150 — a new goal I’m confident I can reach.

I feel great! I have lots of energy and (other than bouts of depression caused by my divorce woes) feel really upbeat and happy. I feel positive about my health and my future. I’ve even gotten off one of my blood pressure meds.

My clothes are no longer tight. In fact, some have become so loose that they look silly on me. My big reward when I reach my goal weight is the new wardrobe I’ll be buying. That and the ability to get into a few pairs of old jeans in my closet back home.

I can honestly say that losing weight was one of the best decisions I made in my life. I only regret that I let my body get to the point where it was necessary.

And yes, you can expect some “after” photos when I reach my goal. There are no “before” photos since I really didn’t want my photo taken when I was at my heaviest. In a way, I wish I had a fatty picture to share. It would remind me of the place I never want to be again.

I’ll also fill you in on my transition off the box food to regular food. Although I had my doubts in the beginning, I now think can do it. We’ll see.

Jim’s Results

Oddly, as I was writing this post, Jim called. I’d forwarded him a link to the weight table I mentioned earlier, along with my current status. He wanted to congratulate me.

We both had the same goal: to be 160-pound pilots. He’s now below that goal and shooting for 150. His wife just got on the program and has begun to lose weight, too. They’re supporting each other for better health.

Don’t Let It Happen to You!

Of course, I got fat by letting the weight creep up slowly throughout years and years of my life. I think this is what happens to many people — especially those who don’t have weight problems when they’re young and more active. A pound here, three pounds there, five pounds over the holidays that don’t all come off in the spring. It all adds up. You can accept these small weight changes because they’re small. But they’re also insidious. And if you let them, they’ll destroy your health and well-being.

My advice? Consult a reputable healthy weight chart to see what you should weigh. If you’re just a little bit more than that, begin changing your eating habits to eat less and to eat smarter. Just avoiding high carb foods like bread, potatoes, and pasta should be a big help. You might also consult a blog post I wrote a few years ago when it was easier for me to control my weight: “8 Ways to Lose Weight without Dieting or Exercise.”

But if you’re quite a bit beyond what you should be, maybe its time for drastic measures. Medifast is drastic, but it’s healthy and it does work. You can visit Cheryl’s website to learn more. Don’t let the cost of the food scare you off — remember, you won’t be buying much else in the way of groceries, so you really won’t be spending much more than you usually do on food. Or find some other plan that works for you.

But do it now. Don’t wait until it gets so out of control that you can’t help yourself.

Postscript:

I wrote this blog post on Tuesday morning. I didn’t post it right away because I’d already published two other posts. Instead, I scheduled it for Wednesday.

On Tuesday afternoon, I went into East Wenatchee to get a haircut. Afterwards, I hit the mall where I stopped into Macy’s to see about buying a new pair of jeans. All of my jeans, which were tight when I arrived here in May, are now very loose. My kinda sexy tight black jeans, which I like to wear with my cowboy boots when I go out with friends, were no longer either tight or remotely sexy. I wanted to replace them.

I was a size 14. I grabbed a bunch of pants in size 12, thinking to myself: “Wouldn’t it be great if I were a whole size smaller?” When I tried them on, I was shocked. They were loose on me, too.

I went back out onto the sales floor and grabbed the same collection of jeans in size 10. And guess what? They fit!

I’m now two sizes smaller than I was 10 weeks ago.

I have not been a size 10 since I was in my 30s. I’m thinking that if I stick to this and get down to 150, I might be back to a size 8. I haven’t been there since I was in my 20s.

To celebrate, I bought a pair of jeans, a denim skirt, four shirts (size medium!), three pairs of socks, four pairs of lace panties (why the hell not?), and three pairs of shoes, including black faux alligator heels.

I would have bought a pair of earrings to replace the ones my husband gave me that I always wore, but I couldn’t find anything I liked. I’ll keep looking.

In the meantime, I really like the new me.