Weight Loss Lessons from Made-for-TV Christmas Movies

Dear Fat Jesse,

It's that time of year again! (I think that's what you are legally required to say at the beginning of any holiday correspondence, right?) The traffic is insane. Shoppers are getting a little more pushy by the hour. And food seems to be falling into my lap as if it were on a schedule. There's food in the mail, being sent home with my husband from work, and we haven't even gotten to the actual Christmas festivities that are sure to bring the debauchery of my mom's famous recipes. What is a fat girl to do? I'm trying to lose weight here, and being reminded every minute of just why people "start  after the new year". The holidays are so food-centric, it seems almost inevitable that I will walk away from them with the gift of twenty new pounds.

Here's the thing, Fat Jesse. Christmas comes every year, and I have to learn to live with it and not lose my progress every single year. Because we all know that once New Jesse loses progress, the snowball turns into an avalanche. How does one do that? I believe we have to focus on the non-food elements of what makes Christmas great and tenaciously enjoy them. We don't get any snow here in the desert, so forget about that. I'm not a huge shopper and get little joy out of elbowing old ladies for that last turtleneck. No, Fat Jesse, my favorite part of Christmas (that I can't eat)....is the movies.

Every year, I eagerly await the arrival of the classics. Frosty, Rudolph, Ralphie. But what I really can't get enough of...what makes my heart sing with Christmas cheer? That, my friend, would be the cheesy Christmas movies that have been specially created for our favorite lower-tier cable networks. To me, nothing speaks louder of Christmas giving than letting Tori Spelling have a job for the holidays. And you know what, F.J.? I've figured out that they can pretty much be reduced to one of  five formulas. What's more, they can actually help me to stop being fat if I really listen with my heart.

#1- The Fresh Take (But Not Really) On "A Christmas Carol"

When I'm not analyzing the philosophical merits of low-budget movies, I often imagine long-dead authors coming back and seeing what we've chosen to do with their works. I'm pretty sure Charles Dickens would cry a single glistening tear and nod dramatically after seeing how darn creative we've gotten with his classic tale of redemption. He would probably kick himself for not writing Scrooge as a high-powered female executive who just needs to be reunited with her high school boyfriend. Add to the mixture about a thousand ways to interpret the ghosts of past, present, and future and you've got yourself some television gold. And, oh yeah, a lesson on life.

A Christmas Carol Weight Loss Lesson: Don't lose track of your life to the point where you wake up one day and need three zany ghosts to take you on an overnight journey to get back to yourself. Stay in tune with where you are, and you'll get more sleep at night.

#2- The Alternate Reality/What If?

Not to be confused with the Christmas Carol formula, in which one gets to see what has already/will happen, the alternate reality explores a whole new world of possibilities....for high-powered female executives, mostly. Still, whether a female exec or an exasperated stay-at-home mom, the main character gets to see a day in the life of the person they would have become had they just taken the "other route". Now, the made-for-television novice must understand that they are only watching this type of film if there is some sort of vehicle that brought the main character to their alternate reality. That rookie stuff where you find out the person is dreaming? No way. The only way you're watching a true alternate reality flick is if the person crawled into a dryer or wished on a total eclipse and...this is the key...can't get out without figuring out an important lesson.

The Alternate Reality Weight Loss Lesson: Most of these movies end with the protagonist appreciating exactly where they were in the first place and wanting to go right back to it. A true lesson in "the grass ain't always greener," a weight loser has a better future ahead if they stop mourning over unmet goals and appreciates what they do have. Oh, and don't wish on shooting stars unless you've made prior arrangements with your boss for some vacation time.

#3- The Repeating Day

Back in the day, we saw Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, a story of a man being trapped living the same day over and over until he successfully reformed his ways. Lucky for Bill, he is not long-dead and can easily see the level of awesome this idea has reached in the form of television Christmas movies. No one has ever found out who is calling the shots on whether someone gets stuck repeating a bad day, but it seems to be brought on by small stimuli: a spray of perfume, a snowball to the head, etc. All we know is that there is a huge life lesson here.

The Repeating Day Weight Loss Lesson: It's all about the small things. Your day won't be hijacked and repeated because you burned down an entire village (that will just land you in prison). It's because you forgot to be kind to your kids, didn't see the big picture, or didn't give someone a chance. Make subtle, but lasting, changes in your habits and you'll get to see tomorrow.

#4- The Magical Mannequin

Apparently the world is so short of decent people that we somehow find solace in the fact that mannequins can just come to life and fill our needs. Dad feeling a little lonely and you need a mom for the holidays? Tired of dating scumbags? Just visit your local department store and find the (always temporary) cure. Fair warning goes to those who seek shelter with the inanimate culture, though. They have a tendency to be naive and may accidentally burn down your Christmas tree. Yet, throughout their goofy, empty-headed antics, they provide a lesson.

The Magical Mannequin Weight Loss Lesson: Flaws can actually be what make us beautiful, unique, and lead to a better version of ourselves. Never discount yourself or others because of imperfections.

#5- The "Save the Town"

I will never be able to live in a small town, because of a little-known fact about their governing entities. Did you know that anytime one of their businesses are closed down, it takes place on Christmas Eve? Those fat cats on town council always shut down lollipop plants, shopping malls, and toy factories on the day before Christmas! It's a good thing that big city reporters, adorable kids, and jolly men that turn out to be the REAL Santa Claus blow into town to fix things before it's too late, because that's just terrible. The best part of these movies is that justice always prevails within the ninety minute time slot. The business goes to its rightful owner, and the two lovable kids that rallied to save it usually find a  new mom in the big city reporter (which will save them a lot of heartache in looking for an attractive mannequin).

The "Save the Town" Weight Loss Lesson: Fight for what you know is yours. You may not achieve justice for yourself as quickly as the friendly folks of Christmastown, U.S.A., but it will do wonders for your self-esteem.

Honorable Mentions: Movies That Have No Lesson, but to Leave Them Out Would Be Absurd

The Unattached Nanny/The Matchmaking Kids- Two precocious children (always two...why?) scheme to set up their nanny with their overworked single parent. Also popular...two precocious children working to reunite their estranged parents.

The "I Believe"- The always-classic tale of cynical people rediscovering their faith in Santa Claus and the Christmas spirit....mainly because he appears right in front of their faces and does magic. Which doesn't really take a lot of faith at all.

The Hired Mate- Stories of people with parents so critical that they feel compelled to hire an actor to take home for the holidays to pose as their mate. The more extreme version of this story involves outright kidnapping.

Well, there you have it, Fat Jesse. More than five reasons to love Christmas that have nothing to do with food. You are one lucky gal, F.J. Merry Christmas!

Predictably plotted,
New Jesse, -5 lbs

Step 12: Do-Over

Dear Fat Jesse,

I'm not going to pretend to apologize for not writing. I won't give you excuses as to why I couldn't sit down and have a few moments with you. The truth is that I quit. For weeks, I just quit. Over the summer, these letters died down and I subsequently lost all focus on just how powerful a force you are in my life. I forgot that you're like a needy German Shepherd puppy and, after weeks of neglect, you are prone to break loose and do some serious damage to my body. It was just last night that I opened the door to find that you had knocked over trash cans, shredded paper, and left smelly paw prints all over the walls. Let me explain...

My husband's company has this lovely program that requires all employees to complete a bio-metric screening and annual physical in order to keep their current insurance premium rates. We did overhear one employee asking the clinic staff if he could get in for a "bionic" screening, which I can only assume is when one is inspected for robotic parts. A "bio-metric" screening, however, is simply taking weight, height, cholesterol, blood glucose, and waist circumference. If any problems are found, you are referred for further action that will help you to get those things under control. I have to tell you that I went into this appointment with a lot of grief, Fat Jesse. Why? Because this was supposed to be my checkered flag.

You see, when my husband and I started our weight loss journey, we determined that we could be done by November and that we wanted to WOW our doctor at this year's screening. Instead, I walked in with all (yes, all) of the weight back on and a larger waist than I had started with. Luckily, my cholesterol and glucose looked great, but it didn't get me off the hook for being a huge diabetes risk by my size alone. My husband, although he hadn't gained back much, displayed a shocking blood pressure that will land him in the cardiologist's office ASAP. As we topped off our appointment by giving the laundry list of family illnesses we may have waiting for us, I grew very angry with where we have ended up as a couple. I wept on the way home, envisioning our children living without one or both parents before their tenth birthdays.

That feeling stayed with me all morning. Until I got this in a random e-mail from my hubby.

You remember Salina, don't you, F.J.? It was my middle-of-the-road goal that was supposed to let me know that I had finally conquered that blurry chunk of unhealthy years that put me where I am today. I don't know what the hubs even meant when he sent this to me, and I haven't asked yet. He might have just been fooling around with Google Maps for all I know. But to me, it means the world. It was like a cold bucket of water in the face, waking me up to how capable I am for change. It made me go back and read through where you and I had been together, Fat Jesse. Through 11 steps on this blog, and some side observations, I took off almost thirty pounds. Where did that girl go?

You know what? She didn't go anywhere. I am that girl, and I don't think I should ever let myself forget that again. Anyone who has done this-- lost tons of weight and put it back on-- will understand what I am saying. It's so easy to create caricatures of ourselves and pit them against each other: Girl who Lost Weight and Felt Awesome vs. Girl Who Failed and Can't Keep it Off. I now believe that when we compartmentalize ourselves like that...when we demonize the parts of us that slip up...it's nearly impossible to start over! When we look at our "thin pictures" as if they are someone different, who is capable of different things...where does that leave us?

So, Fat Jesse, here is the new deal. I am empowering myself to make the rules on when and how I get to start over. Do you remember when we were kids on the playground and there was that unspoken, arbitrary code on when someone got to call a "do-over"? If you missed the tether ball because your shoe was untied? Do-over. You didn't like the way that ball hit square number two? Do-over, please. As usual, kids are onto something. They possess the confidence and give themselves the grace to just say, "Hey, that wasn't the way I intended it to happen. Just gonna try again."

I'm not saying that this won't suck, F.J. There is nothing worse than watching the scale go down by way of numbers you just passed. Oh, wait. There is something worse. That would be doing nothing because you messed up.

Calling a Do-Over,
New Jesse, -0 pounds

Robotic Arm Image courtesy of Victor Habbick/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

The Lost Years

Dear Fat Jesse,

I know, I know. We haven't spoken in weeks. Okay, so I haven't spoken to you in weeks. Please stop trembling and come out of that corner. I'm sure that by now you're assuming that I've put on a hundred pounds, have resigned to my bed full time, and eat Cheetos out of my shirt all day. But I assure you that my weight loss journey, although a little slower these days, still carries on.

I understand that I owe you some catching up, F.J. After all, in blogger/inner fat self time, two months actually equals many years. We will forever refer to this lull in communication as our Lost Years. They are our deleted scenes, as no one will really know how things went down in this period of our weight loss.

Yes, Fat Jesse, I could drone on and on about how awesome and busy life has been and shower you with tales of why these letters have stopped for a time. But that would be lies. The simple truth is that I got sick of talking about losing weight. Yep. That's it. Sick of talking about it. I suspect that anyone who has ever set out to lose this much weight would likely go through the same thing: a time when they don't feel very inspired or inspiring to others. It can come after a failed attempt at an intense fitness commitment (P90X, anyone?) or shame from a major cheat day. Whatever the cause, what I want us to remember, F.J., is that there is no shame in keeping things personal for a while (remember our friend, Ariel?) until you figure out, once again, that you are awesome and capable of anything!

So what did I do during our Lost Years, you ask? Well, I've created a storyboard to give you a few highlights. As you will see, in addition to being a gifted scientist and German linguist, I am also an undiscovered artist. I felt it only appropriate to display our deleted scenes in this way. So, without further ado, I give you....

DEAR FAT JESSE: The Lost Years


Storyboard One: New Jesse Tries a New Jillian Michaels DVD


After my failed attempted at P90X, I decided to give Jillian 20 minutes of my day. Her gentle and encouraging style lifted my spirits beyond measure. Yes, that's the Grim Reaper, in case you were wondering.

(Dramatization)

Storyboard Two: New Jesse Goes to a Birthday Party


At my nephew's party, I ate so many hot wings that chickens everywhere trembled in fear. I'm pretty sure you were there, Fat Jesse. This was only a sliver of a three week long bender, in which I ran around screaming, "Junk food," like Animal from The Muppets.

(Dramatization)

Storyboard Three: New Jesse Tries Group Fitness


A huge bout of Fitness Boredom Syndrome led to finally giving group fitness classes a try. Not only were they completely Fat friendly, they were a ton of fun. Well, most of them. But more on that later.

(Dramatization)

As you can see, Fat Jesse, I was NOT eating Cheetos out of my shirt for two months. I had some ups and some downs, experienced boredom, and eventually got my mojo back. Now...you're going to wish I never came back. Because this, F.J., is crunch time. We're going to work our tail off and live to tell about it.

*No stick figures were harmed in the writing of this blog. "Stella" the Stick Figure is a fictional character and is in no way meant to represent New Jesse's current body composition. Super cute houndstooth/toile paper provided courtesy of Jesse's husband.

Artistically Yours,
New Jesse, -27 lbs

Step 11: Make Up Your Mind...Then Change It Over and Over

Dear Fat Jesse,

In my first letter to you, I talked about how losing weight is a public struggle. Each time I've logged in to talk to you, I have faced the challenge of remaining authentic with an audience reading my every step. I never wanted this forum to be about neatly juxtaposed before and after pictures or shallow tips that you can find anywhere on the internet. I opened up this personal journal to talk about how messy and unpredictable this road can be. And that's what I'm going to do.

I love P90X, Fat Jesse. The variety paired with structure, the intensity I had been craving after weeks of boredom with workouts, and the feeling of accomplishment. I stand by everything I said in my review. But I can't do it anymore. Now, before you throw that pull-up bar in the trash, F.J., let me explain why.

I can guarantee that there will be at least 2.7 people who read this and chuckle to themselves about my inability to "bring it" or question my commitment. They can direct any questions or comments to flyingleap@dearfatjesse.com. No, Fat Jesse, my decision to stop P90X is because of my commitment to being healthy, and I felt like I was putting another area of my health in jeopardy while doing it.

You see, I am a nursing mother. Under normal circumstances, a nursing mother is feeding her child every two to three hours and burning up to 500 calories a day. But since my daughter seems to have a wild combination of early teething and severe separation anxiety, I spend about 45 minutes out of every hour of the day in feeding mode. When I started P90X, I figured I could just up my calories and everything would be fine. That was not the case. Going into week two, I felt weak, the scale stopped budging, and I even suspect my milk supply was affected. I did some research, and made the decision that it was time to stop until I talk to my doctor next month. Maybe he'll give me the go-ahead to drink the meal replacement shakes that so many P90X'ers rely on. Maybe I can start the program again when my daughter is on solid foods and no longer relies on me. The only thing I know is that I only have six more months of this time with my child and a lifetime to do P90X.

Surprisingly, my announcement of the decision to stop a workout program is not the point of this letter, Fat Jesse. It's about the next step in our journey: allowing ourselves the freedom to change our mind. I see so much discouragement in those who are trying to lose weight. We "join" this and we "start" that and, when we fail, it sends us into a tailspin. Why? Because, like I've said a hundred times, it's public. Not everyone is as insane as I am, posting their failures on a blog. But they know what it's like to hear someone ask how they're doing on So and So's Newfangled Diet, only to have to explain why they stopped.

So, I submit for your approval, Fat Jesse, that there is only one major thing that we should have to make up our mind about and that is the decision to get healthy. We should make up our mind to eat less, eat better, and to move our bodies with activity. After that, it should be a series of fill in the blanks. One of the best things I heard part of the way into this whole weight loss bit was a very fit person telling me, "It doesn't matter what you do to exercise, as long as you do something."

For every person who went vegetarian and realized they can't live without meat...For every person who took a spin class and hated it...And for every single person who has lived through the experience of scrapping healthy living altogether, because they were embarrassed about a perceived failure....

CHANGE YOUR MIND.

Don't quit. Make up your mind to get healthy. And then fight for your your right to change your mind about how. Just keep going. I know I will.

Still Bringing It,
New Jesse, +1 lb

Review: A Fat Chick's Week with P90X

Dear Fat Jesse,

Remember that slump we talked about last week? Well, it got me thinking about what I could do for a new workout routine. One day, I was venting to my husband about what I wanted it to look like.....I wish I had a routine that had something different for every day of the week, working different parts of the body. But I don't want to just do boring weight lifting at the gym anymore. I want to do yoga and martial arts too...I combed through my gym's workout class schedule, only to find that there was no way I could find the time to take a class every day. My husband looked me square in the face and said the worst thing I'd ever heard. I hate to say it, but it sounds like you're talking about P90X.

Now, let's back up here and explain why that's about the worst thing you could say to me, Fat Jesse. Before I had my second baby, I got P90X with every intention of doing it. I previewed the workouts, got terrified, and did the whole let's start Monday gig. That week, I got a surprise in the form of two red lines on a dollar store pregnancy test that my friend brought over as a joke. Ha...ha. So no P90X for me. Since then, everyone we know has done P90X. Let me rephrase that. Eh-heh-heh-heh-hevryone. All of our friends are walking around with chiseled muscles and crossing their arms in an X-pose at inappropriate times.  Note to P90X'ers...it's not okay to pose that way at your grandmother's funeral, no matter how much you thought she knew how to bring it with her snickerdoodle recipe.

So basically, three things were keeping me from trying this workout. Hype aversion, fear, and plain old Haterade. I have a tendency to avoid anything that's painfully popular, which is insane. Avoiding something because a lot of people like it is just as dumb as liking something because everyone likes it. Then I was afraid that I couldn't do the workouts because they looked ridiculously hard. And if I couldn't, there was an Adonis army on every corner of Facebook waiting to remind me that I was a wimp. Ooh, wait! Is that what the X pose means? I can do this, but you can't! Maybe...

Even after fessing up to my internal issues about P90X, there was still a nagging doubt in my mind. I had never seen a large person in before and after pictures. Most success stories I saw went like this: Greg had ballooned up to a grotesque 180 lbs and felt like a change....It was then that Suzy realized she was not bikini ready and decided it was time to shed those last five pounds...I mean, God bless those people. Unhappy is unhappy and they have a right to make a change. But I have seventy pounds left to lose, and I'm afraid Tony Horton might just kill me. So what do I do? I try Power 90, the predecessor to P90X. The little caterpillar before the giant x-shaped butterfly. And it's too easy for me. So last Tuesday, Fat Jesse, I faced the music and dragged my large behind in front of our TV-- in a good way this time--and let Tony Horton beat the living daylights out of me. Here are my honest thoughts for the people out there who have a little spark of maybe I could do this in the back of their mind.

First, a little overview. P90X has three programs: Classic, Lean, and Doubles. I'm not a P90X-pert, so I'm not at liberty to say which is best for anyone. But I do know that Classic is for those who want to build muscle, Lean is for those who want to slim down and burn fat, and Doubles is for those who are suicidal. I'm doing the Lean program. Each week consists of six pre-determined workouts, and one rest/stretch day. The workout schedule changes on certain weeks to employ the principle of 'muscle confusion.' Here's what I thought of my first week, in pro/con form...

Pros

-Tony is a great trainer. Anyone who has done workout DVD's knows that you have a 50/50 shot of hating the person talking to you from the screen. Not the case here. He's likable, a little sarcastic, and  refreshingly honest. No peppy aerobics instructors in this program, doing everything with ease while you die on the inside. If an exercise is tough, he'll look you right in the eye and tell you.

-Modification is always an option. Other than the rare occasion when he says that everyone must do ___ amount of reps, he is very focused on allowing you to start at your level, set goals that will challenge you, and work at your own pace. I was pleasantly surprised by this fact.

-The workout schedule is laid out perfectly. I'm not going to lie, there were days that I would wake up and wonder how on earth I was going to complete my next workout with how sore I was. But I would do it anyway, only to find that I was challenging a completely different set of muscles and letting the ones I murdered the previous day take a little rest. On top of that, a workout never starts without generous time for feel-good stretching.

-Mr. Horton has brought yoga into the mainstream as a killer workout for men. I know, I know...what does this have to do with me, a woman? Well, for years I have sung the praises of yoga as a great way to build strength. And I've watched men turn up their noses at it as a woman's thing. When I see Tony Horton give yoga the credit for why he's still rockin' into his fifties, it builds his credibility as a fitness guru in my eyes. Oh, and the 90 minutes of Ashtanga Vinyasa yoga he puts you through? Do it and try to tell me it's sissy stuff.

-It's fun and instantly rewarding. Even the resistance training feels like fun choreography that you can master. Everyone likes variety and this program definitely delivers it. The most rewarding part is being able to do an exercise two days after you thought you would die trying. (See: Ab Ripper X)

Cons


-It takes a lot of equipment for an in-home workout. And once you get the equipment you think you'll like, it takes trial and error to realize you want something different. Your dumbbells will be too light or too heavy, resistance bands will fail when you need them the most, but you'll want to use them instead of other things on certain exercises. The necessity of a yoga mat and what type will come into question several times. Anyone starting this program should be prepared to take the equipment thing in stride for the first week. It takes time to figure it out.

-The camera man can go wrong every once in a while. You may miss Tony's feet when you really should have seen them and will do something wrong for a couple reps. I guess that's the beauty of it being a DVD. There's always rewind and pause. I found myself dumbfounded and staring at the screen many times this week while I learned all the moves. And I'm okay with that. I have three months to master it.

-It is a time commitment. This is no 30 minute-per-day investment. Be prepared to devote 90 minutes to working out, six days per week. Not all of the workouts are that long, but it takes a while to get your equipment together, especially if you have to hide it from your kids between workouts like I do. I can say with all honestly that I never feel tortured with the length of the workouts. Time flies.

-Tony can be a Pluggy McPluggerson in certain workouts. He has great products, and he wants everyone to know about them. It's obvious, but it never distracts from the workout.

-Weight loss will slow down initially. First, because of muscle build. Second, because our bodies are programmed to prevent starvation. My body doesn't know that I look terrible in jeans. All it knows is that I have maintained a certain weight to live for a long time, and wants to keep that weight. When calories are too low, the body will hold onto fat as a defense mechanism. It's important for anyone working out this much to actually increase calories in the right way and find that balance that will allow the body to let fat stores go. I know that's a mouthful. Bottom line: work out more...eat more. It's a tough concept for a person trying to lose weight, but it's the truth.

So would I recommend P90X to my fellow obese friends out there, Fat Jesse? I think I would, especially those who are familiar with exercise in some way. I know that, for months, I have tried to keep up the variety and challenge and it's tough. Here's a program that gives you everything you need for both. Sure, it takes a monetary and time investment. It leaves you sore, sweaty, and wondering if you'll every be able to accomplish all the moves in any given workout. But the best thing about P90X, F.J., is that it makes you want to try!

Thinking of more X puns,
New Jesse, +1 pound (of pure muscle)

5 Foods That Make Me Feel Like a Five Year Old

Dear Fat Jesse,

Since I've started writing to you, I have had some of the best conversations of my life with people that know where I'm coming from. We've talked about our pitfalls, annoyances, and barriers that keep us from pushing on at times. One common thread with many of these people is the fact that they have no idea where to start when it comes to eating healthy, because they simply never learned. I fear that when I tell people I subscribe to a vegan diet, they may mistake me for someone who spends my day in the kitchen making glorious creations out of fresh vegetables and tofu. The truth is, both my husband and I have had to overcome a huge mental block against almost all healthy foods to get where we are now. Just two months ago, we were like little five year olds, who only enjoyed macaroni and cheese and pizza. And our favorite was when the kind people at CiCi's Pizza brilliantly put them together. So, without further ado, here are just a few of the foods that I grew up hating, but have found a way to get around on the path to being healthier.

#1: Cottage Cheese

Seriously, what is the deal with this disgusting stuff? I would like to create a group of renegades called the Texture Police to go after whoever woke up one morning and decided to pass this slime off as food. Sometime in the 1980's, another anarchist in a shack somewhere started spreading the word that cottage cheese was the foundation of any healthy diet. I watched my mom mix it with tomatoes and pepper one day, and then saw her put pineapple in it the next. That kind of inconsistency doesn't belong in politics, and it sure doesn't belong in my kitchen! So, cottage cheese, what is it? Do you go with vegetables or do you go with fruit? That's what I thought....you don't know.

Try instead: Greek Yogurt. I don't do dairy anymore, but if I could, this stuff is awesome. More protein than yogurt, fewer calories, and not a wishy-washy dirtbag like cottage cheese.

#2: Canned Vegetables

I don't think I tasted a fresh pea until my mid-twenties, Fat Jesse. That is because the first time I tried a pea, it was from a can and from then on it was, "I don't like peas." In fact, a lot of the veggies I grew up on were from a can. That was just the way moms decided to get veggies on the table for ten people back then. The other alternative was boiling or microwaving frozen veggies, but those don't turn out much better than canned. Mr. Scientist Man has even reached out from his lab to tell us that we basically strip the nutrient value from veggies by cooking them that way anyway. So we're torturing our kids with mushy vegetables for no reason at all.

Try instead: Frozen veggies + Ziploc steamer bags = yummy vegetables that kids and kid-like grown ups enjoy side-by-side. Now, if anyone wants to steam the old fashioned way and avoid the extra cost of Ziploc bags, more power to them. There are even reusable products that will steam veggies in the microwave. The point is that no one should say they hate vegetables until they've tried them steamed instead of canned/boiled/microwaved. It sure changed my mind.

#3: Tofu

Ah, my old foe. Tofu and I have been in a ten year battle and he wins every time. My mother is the best cook in the world. She can take flour and water and make magic. But when she tried to make tofu, it wasn't pretty. I've read every tip on the internet....buy it firm and dry it well. No, buy it soft and scramble it. Jump up and down while it's cooking for good luck. I've tried making it like a breaded "mozzarella stick", using it in stir-fry, marinating it. Always...disgusting. I know I'm going to get a flood of suggestions about how to really make good tofu after I publish this. Those people can send them to lightbulb@dearfatjesse.com. But let me warn you... I'm so jaded by my attempts to make good tofu, that I've become the bad boy that no one can change no matter how hard they try. I should get a leather jacket.

Try instead: Tempeh. It has more protein and fiber than tofu and is less processed. This isn't just for us hippy vegans either. Anyone can benefit from replacing a couple meat-based meals with tempeh a couple times a week. I like to buy it pre-marinated, and my favorite brand looks like this. It comes in pre-cut strips that you brown for two minutes and it goes perfectly with rice, cous cous, or quinoa. It has the consistency of a really thick piece of bacon and hey, they even make it in a bacon flavor.

#4: Iceberg Lettuce

Let's face it. Iceburg lettuce makes us feel insecure. It ruins first dates. And it has no taste. Oh, you think I'm exaggerating? Really think about it, F.J. You're on a first date, and you order the salad to make yourself look dainty and not-that-hungry. But what you get is a plate full of jawbreaker sized leaves that catapult salad dressing out of the corners of your mouth if you're not careful...and crunch louder than a spoon in a garbage disposal. What do you do? Slice up your salad with a knife for twenty minutes before you dig in? It's then that you realize you would look more dainty if you just ordered a can of Pringles and shoved them in your mouth forty at a time. Fat Jesse, I blame iceberg lettuce for the reason most people say they hate salad.

Try Instead: Shredded iceberg or pretty much anything else. I hated salad until someone made me try a Caesar salad with Romaine lettuce. Romaine was great and made me try arugula, spinach, radicchio...the list goes on. Grocery stores have tons of mixes that can expose salad haters to better tasting options. Now, for a taco salad, there is nothing better than shredded iceberg lettuce. It's cheap, doesn't ruin your love life, and you basically burn the calories that are in it by simply chewing it. The hubs and I enjoy a gigantic vegan taco salad on those nights when we want to feel like total pigs, but don't want to pay for it the next day.

#5: Tuna

Am I the only kid that would open her lunch box and groan when I discovered that I had a tuna sandwich for lunch? Probably not. In fact, my hubby has such a strong aversion to tuna that I worry about whether or not he was actually attacked by a tuna fish as a child and doesn't have the strength to talk about it. Until I was old enough to buy my own groceries, I agreed with him. Tuna can be mushy, smell horrible, and is most commonly served in globs of mayonnaise.

Try instead: Much like 3 out of the other 4 foods I've talked about on this list (yeah, keep walkin' cottage cheese), I simply needed to experience a different type of tuna to realize that it's actually very good. I grew up on chunk light tuna in oil. I gag a little when I say oil, by the way. But now that I have tried chunk white Albacore, I am in love. White tuna is more firm like chicken, doesn't have a nauseating fish smell, and can be eaten without all the mayo on salads and in rice. Best of all, it's pretty darn good for you. In fact, tuna is one of the only occasional exceptions I make to my vegan diet. I like to buy it in the foil pouches that come in different flavors like lemon pepper or teriyaki.

So, there you have it, Fat Jesse. We all have our foods that we've hated since childhood that can actually keep us from experimenting with anything new at all. But with a little creativity, a lot of bravery, and a resolve to retrain the brain to want good things, it gets a little easier every day.

Adventurously yours,
New Jesse, -20 lbs

Step 10: Treat Thyself

Dear Fat Jesse,

Today is big. It's our tenth step in the right direction together. It's been exactly two months since we started this weight loss gig. And I am exactly twenty pounds lighter. I feel like we should treat ourselves for all our hard work. The only problem? I don't know how to treat myself to something that doesn't end up on my waistline. This is a dimension to emotional eating that is rarely talked about, so I'm going to talk about it. We hear about eating your feelings or stress eating...even eating out of boredom. But some of us have a nasty habit of making food a reward in everyday life. This is actually a huge part of American culture if you think about it. We give our kids jelly beans to go potty, tell them they can have dessert if they finish their dinner plate, and make them their favorite meal for their birthday. For those kids who have great genes, or are more on the active side into their adult years, this doesn't become an issue. But some kids who grow up like this become adults like me. I blame this...

Oh, the irony!

Call it a cure or call it a side effect, but now that I no longer give in to my addictions to terribly unhealthy foods, I have no idea how to indulge myself in something that I enjoy. My go-to for my entire life has been something salty/crunchy/sweet to make life a little more special. Finals week in college was usually chock-full of trips to the local pizza place as a reward. Every major holiday in my family has a food that is synonymous with the celebration. If being a food addict wasn't enough to make treating myself difficult, there's another wrench in the works.

I'm a mom.

Let me tell you something, Fat Jesse. When you have children at any age, your 'me time' is almost non-existent. But when you have two in diapers and one is still nursing, you don't even have time to spell the word 'me'. My idea of a treat these days is taking a shower without my daughter pressing her face against the space under the door and screaming bloody murder for me, despite the fact that her dad is right there (the same dad she wants to call twenty times a day when he isn't here). In fact, these letters I write to you can only be accomplished over the course of days, and with the help of a very annoying Mexican pre-schooler who shouts repetitive instructions from a map. Yes, with the help of a Boppy pillow for the baby's meal time and a couple episodes of Dora the Explorer, I can have a little time to get in touch with my inner fat chick. Not much else though, F.J.

Where are her parents?! Probably blogging.

So I've decided to create my own Treat Alphabet. It will will be my new go-to for things that I can do to de-stress, celebrate, and unwind in this crazy world. I'm going to retrain my brain to see fun in everyday experiences--things that are always available and cost practically nothing.  As you may notice, I have included some food in the list, Fat Jesse. That's because I believe that, although food is primarily fuel, putting the right food in my body can be seen as a reward. So many times, the diet roller coaster makes us view healthy food as a restriction when it should be a relief!

New Jesse's Treat Alphabet

ANTM marathon with the best friend. Buy some new workout clothes. Call mom. Dark, dark chocolate. Express delivery upgrade. Funny Face starring Audrey Hepburn. Get my kids giggling. Hot chamomile tea. Internet search 90's TV shows. Joke with the hubby. Karaoke time. Lose the remote. Make up a dance routine with the toddler.  Not care about the messy house. Open the jewelry box. Print family pics. Quiet time. Redbox night. Starbucks ice water. Test drive a new lipstick. Unfold the double stroller and go exploring. Vote for Pedro. Wear a dress and heels. X-train DVD. Yonanas. Zzzzzz's.


Happy Anniversary,
New Jesse, -20 lbs

Step 9: Ditch the Mistress

Dear Fat Jesse,

This road to getting healthy has so many pitfalls and booby traps, I feel like Indiana Jones sometimes. In fact, I often fall asleep envisioning a huge red stability ball breaking loose and rolling toward me, Raiders of the Lost Ark style. That could be a metaphor for how overwhelmed I feel, but I think it's just because my husband has chosen to store my huge red stability ball on top of the bookcase by our bed. Seriously, if I wake up with that thing on top of me, I'll never get over it. But I digress. Fat Jesse, I have been in a slump. A major what's-the-point-of-all-this-effort slump. This is probably why we haven't spoken in days, but I think I've figured out where this slump is coming from and I'm ready to talk about it. 

This Saturday will be the two month mark from the point my family changed our lifestyle. Two months is significant. It's the weirdly coincidental amount of time that I have been able to last on any fad diet I have tried. Low-carb cheese and pork rind diet? Two months. Low-carb cheese and pork rind diet cleverly disguised as a healthy belly fat solution? Two months. The two shakes and a never-sensible dinner, the fast until dinner, the lemon juice and cayenne pepper. Two months, two months, and....well, five days on that last one. Just too weird for me. This is what that tells me...

Fad Diets Are Like an Affair

You know the story of the diet book. You see its stunning spine from across the bookstore. The bright letters, the holographic detail. You open it and...oh my! Are those full color illustrations of all the yummy meals I can prepare? The grocery lists, the before and after pictures, all luring you into their web. It's time to buy the book and live on its promises and attractive ease.

Yes, Fat Jesse, fad diets are like an extra-marital affair. Most times, they begin by chance and cause a tingle of excitement at something different. Something easy. And it is easy...at first. Yes, at first, that book is beautiful. It keeps you company at the grocery store. Sure, it has expensive tastes and you can't afford or even find most of the ingredients for those beautifully pictured recipes. But you can grab other (unhealthy) stuff that follows the same principle. The book even makes it up to you and gives you huge gifts on the scale. This relationship is perfect! All you have to do is listen to what the book says, and you'll score. But after a while, things slow down a bit.  Those scale presents have all but stopped and the book has a perfect explanation: it's time to move to phase 2. Wait, what? I don't remember reading anything about phases when I was leafing through this at the book store! But, Fat Jesse, they ALL have phases. When it's time to move onto phase 2, you realize that this book wants a commitment. And that commitment doesn't look much different that just simply eating healthy and getting some exercise. You now feel silly, because you've abandoned all common sense for a phase. That phase was just a ploy to drop some instant pounds and eventually reach the conclusion that the only thing that works is hard work. It's in this moment of crystal clear regret, befitting the ending to a fantastic Tyler Perry movie, that you realize...

The Journey to Getting Truly Healthy is Like a Marriage 

I've made a point of it in my adult life to not hang out with any single woman who goes on and on about how great marriage is. Number one, because she has to be off in outer space and I generally don't get along with space aliens. And two, because I'm convinced that a single women who spends her time raving about how lucky I am because I'm married is a closet home wrecker. But that's a debate for another day and time, F.J. (one that I, of course, have plenty of scientific evidence to back me up). The fact is, any married person (especially this person with one divorce in her repertoire already) would agree that marriage is hard. Now, before that army of unmarried space cadets pops out to gasp and say things like not if you find the right person-or my favorite- not if God pens your love story, I have a question. Why is it so wrong to say something is hard, anyway? Especially something so monumentally important like living with another human being and making every waking decision with them? Or something like making sure you don't die of preventable diseases before your time? As a society, we don't like to hear about stuff that is difficult. We have the collective attention span of a fruit fly, and our life spans aren't far behind because of it. It is cliche, F.J., but it really is true that the most important things in our life were never meant to be easy. They take commitment, patience, and a lot of flexibility. A marriage that goes the course of fifty years will see changes, some that are life-defining great and some extremely difficult to the point of wanting to give up. And, what do you know? I'm finding out that being a healthy person--and not just a person on a diet-- is turning out to be exactly the same way. 

As we approach this two month mark, Fat Jesse, I realize that my former affection for diet books has programmed me to get discouraged with anything that doesn't resemble a passionate honeymoon of weight loss. So now it is time to set my commitment in stone, and promise to stay the course even when it gets hard. Or worse...when it gets boring. Slump. Over. Time to renew those vows.

For Better or For Worse,

New Jesse, -16 lbs

5 Reasons I Broke Up with Fast Food (That Have Nothing to Do With Nutrition)

Dear Fat Jesse,

I am not a nutritionist (yet). So I'm not going to go into the details of trans fats, simple carbs, and calories. The fact is, I've always known that fast food is unhealthy but it did nothing to stop me. I've probably watched ten documentaries on Netflix that made me blubber with guilt over what I had done to my body, and then lasted all of two days before I was back in the drive-thru. The real turning point came for me when I realized that my affinity for fast food was more of problem with flawed thinking than it was a physical addiction. It was a series of lies I told myself for years that kept me trapped.

Lie #1: Fast Food is Fast

Fast food may be the biggest misnomer in the history of mankind. I have to giggle at the thousands of times the hubs and I made a declaration at 6pm that we just didn't have the time to gather ingredients to cook and then proceeded to argue for 45 minutes about which fast food joint we were the least tired of. My 'no, we've been to Burrito Hell twice this week' would be quickly rebuffed with 'well I'm sick of Crappy Burger.' When the decision was reached, we'd hit the drive-thru expecting a nice, hot meal. But nine times out of ten, we sat in a ridiculous line of cars, were asked to pull around to the front to wait ten minutes, or had to run inside for an item that was forgotten. That is, if we were lucky enough to catch the forgotten item at the restaurant and not the moment we were ready to eat at home. Sometimes we were lucky enough to experience all of the above in just one visit. Onset of hunger: 6 pm. Actual meal time: 7:30 pm. Sounds pretty fast, eh?

Lie #2: Fast Food is Yummy

Is it, Fat Jesse? Because I can pretty much guarantee that I had an inner complaint about how my food was made every single time I ordered some.The food that you see Maxim models wolfing down on Carl's Jr. commercials is not as appetizing in person. Just Google real pictures of fast food and do some soul-searching on what your eyes have been programmed to tell your stomach is "yummy" for so many years. I think these disgusting piles of beige food have gotten past me for so long, because of how I ate them. Most fast food is conveniently packaged to be eaten right in your own lap, in front of the TV or in the car. I would never sit at the table with a plate. If I had, that would involve actually paying attention to how disgusting the food looked. If I went to a nice restaurant and they brought me food like that, I would probably send it back. Because I paid good money for it. Which brings me to my next point.

Lie #3: Fast Food is Cheap

This one is so bewitching that the entire country has bought into it. Experts blather on about how low income families don't get proper nutrition because they have no choice but to buy cheaper junk food. Well, those experts have never seen the checking account of a fast food-aholic. Say you stick to the dollar menu, buying two meals per day for two people. Let's give each person three items at each meal from that dollar menu, and the inevitable 'ooh, get me a dessert' impulse add-on at the end of the order. That's $8 before tax. Times two. Times thirty. I'll give you a minute. This, of course, is just a baseline. Sometimes more per month, sometimes less. But it also forgets to factor in milkshakes masquerading as coffee and those special nights when the dollar menu just isn't enough to say I hate myself. No, on those nights, it was Chinese food or our adopted child...pizza. Seriously, when tax time came this year and the form asked if we provided more than half support to any other dependents, I was tempted to write down CiCi. Here's the kicker, F.J. We practically never gave fast food to our daughter. So, add to the monthly food bill:  healthy groceries for the kiddo. Enter Lie #4.

Lie #4: Fast Food is Not Okay for My Kids, but It's Fine for Me

I committed to authenticity when I started writing these letters to you, Fat Jesse, and I am going to see it through. It is embarrassing to admit an inconsistency so harsh as this one, but I have to expose it so that it stays away for the rest of my life. I kid you not, after arriving home from the drive-thru, I would prepare a healthy meal for my toddler. I vowed to show her how to eat healthy and expose her to veggies and fruit and shield her from fast food, because I wanted better for her. But there is so much wrong with that. For starters, how long would it have taken for her to say I want what Mommy's having? But the less obvious problem this presented to me was the fact that I was telling myself that she was worth it, and for some reason...I wasn't. When I tapped into this mistreatment of myself, I was able to change. Now, F.J., if someone other than my mom stumbles across this blog, they may think I am judging any parent who takes their kid for a meal and some time in the playhouse at a fast food restaurant. Absolutely not. There is a reason I write to you, Fat Jesse, and that is so the world can know that, at all times, I'm talking to me. Because I have a problem with food, the best way I can teach my kids how to be healthy, is to stay away. A recovering alcoholic will warn their children about genes and overindulgence, but they know that the best way they can teach their kids to not follow in their footsteps is to simply stay out of the bar themselves.

Lie #5: Fast Food is an American Staple

One thing is for sure in American culture. We like to fight for our right to be stupid. If there is an injustice to be found in illogical places, we'll find it. Anytime the government steps in and wants to take a closer look at how fast food restaurants are making their foods or marketing to children, there is a group of 'we don't actually understand the First Amendment' champions to say You can't do that! And I have a question. Why don't we want them to? We throw up in our mouths a little when we find out that horse meat is an ingredient in our dog's food, but throw a fit over an investigation of something that we put in our children's mouths being potentially poisonous. I just want to know why. Is it because we couldn't handle the guilt of welcoming this stuff into our homes for over thirty years if we really knew what it was doing to us and the next generation? Maybe so. All I know is that it involves believing at least a portion of the other four lies.

Fat Jesse, this is truly our biggest obstacle to overcome. I know that many people have been born with awesome genetics and great metabolisms and can pound down cheeseburgers like it's their job. Others don't even eat fast food, but can eat themselves silly on what they have at home. We're all different. But you and me, F.J....we've got to stay away from this stuff. For good. It's the only way we're going to survive.

I'm Not Lovin' It,
New Jesse, -16 lbs.

Step 8: Report Spam

Dear Fat Jesse,

Pinterest. When a 'Like' button on Facebook just isn't enough to express how much you...um, like something. It's a visually driven, delightful social media site where people go to tell the world that they are making three cheese penne that night. I adore this place. I don't pin as much as I want to, but love looking at what others are up to. Yesterday, a total stranger tainted Pinterest for me, Fat Jesse. And she got me angry on another level as well.

I admit that I was a social media rookie until I got a spiffy smart phone. Now I'm taste-testing all of it: turning mobile pictures in beautiful sepia toned works of art, sharing my thoughts in 140 characters or less, and posting videos of my kids. I'm having a lot of fun, but one thing I have found is that in all of these awesome sites are irritating jerks just waiting to spam people they don't even know. Which brings me to yesterday, when I received a notice that someone had mentioned me in one of their health and fitness pins on Pinterest. I was confused, and eventually irritated, when I realized that I had just been mass-tagged in an advertising scheme to get people to pay for the most unhealthy diet on the planet.

No need to go door-to-door. I can now bother you from my wireless device.

And now for that higher level of anger I was talking about.

Fat Jesse, this woman has board upon board of only pictures of stick skinny women. They are obviously professional models and athletes, and obviously have nothing to do with the diet she's claiming helped her lose four tons in two days (come to think of it, where are your pictures, annoying spam lady?). And as a woman--no less, a fat woman--I am livid. Because I've come to the conclusion that not only are people like this trying to spam my Pinterest account, a sacred space of craftiness and dreams, but they are trying to spam my self-image.

Funny thing about women, F.J. When we want to lose weight, we have this nasty habit of looking at other women and saying Those are the arms/butt/thighs/shoulders I'm going to have when I'm through with myself. Oh, I've done it. I used to have a 'vision board' with pictures of fit people snowboarding and doing Krav Maga-- things that I'm too fat to do. But I've never really stopped to think about what an insane thing that is to do to myself. Forget the fact that someone staring at a collage of pictures of attractive strangers living their lives is the perfect beginning to a really creepy episode of Law and Order: SVU. The real problem is that another person's shape is probably the most futile and destructive thing we can kill ourselves trying to achieve. I mean, I would never see my friend's cute new car, love it, and consequently paste a picture of it on my bedroom wall to motivate myself to acquire it. And that's way more achievable than another person's musculoskeletal system. Well, maybe not in this economy.

It turns out that a little spam was all I needed to realize my next step. You see, Fat Jesse, we all have self-image inboxes. We receive thousands of messages every day on how we look, what we're good at, and where we fit into this world. Just like the internet, there will be times when messages creep in that don't make sense with what we know to be true. And there will be those that look completely legitimate until we take a closer look. So I've issued a challenge to myself, F.J. I'm going to send those messages to the junk folder. But before I do, I'm going to report them to my brain. Reporting them ensures that they may not be able to spam me again. So every time I see an image that makes me think I want to look like that, I'm going to yell SPAM! Not out loud, Fat Jesse. Not out loud. That would get me a one-way ticket to a padded room. And while I learn to send those messages where they belong, I'm going to spend some time thinking about what I would look like snowboarding or doing Krav Maga. I assure you I will not forget my camera when those days come. Now those are some pictures worthy of hanging on my walls.

Suddenly craving Spam (not really),
New Jesse, -16 lbs



Skeleton Image: farconville / FreeDigitalPhotos.net


Salesman Image: Ambro / FreeDigitalPhotos.net


TA3FJFGATKUR

Step 7: Don't Sleep through Salina

Dear Fat Jesse,

I stepped on the scale this morning and realized that I am one pound away from being in a new weight decade. Well, of course I'll bounce back up before I go down. That's just how Lady Weight Loss does her thing. But it's just around the bend. And you know what that means, F.J. We're approaching Salina. What does approaching Salina mean, other than being a killer hipster band name (check out my easy Hipster Band Name Creator here.)? I'll explain...

When I was a kid, we would take regular trips to see my grandparents in Utah. At the beginning of these trips, I would be wide-eyed and buzzing on Twizzlers and Pringles, promising myself to soak in every moment of scenery on the road. And without fail, a little more than halfway there, I would pass out. When I would wake up, I'd ask 'What'd I miss?' I kid you not, the answer I got every stinking time was 'we just passed Salina.' Now, mind you Salina, UT is no great landmark. I'm pretty sure my dad just meant we passed the exit for Salina and not the town itself. But it grew to be this mysterious land that I would never get to see because my little kid brain would tap out under the pressure of twelve pounds of sugar, artificial coloring, and good old fashioned excitement.

Salina...the land where dreams come true.

What on earth does this have to do with weight loss you ask? Well, this number I am about to see--and thirty of its closest friends in descending order--are numbers that I have never seen on the scale. Because I fell asleep and passed them. This is where the story gets tough, F.J. But we need to barrel through and get stronger because of it.

What was I doing when I missed those numbers? I was getting married to my now ex-husband, ditching my college education, being lied to, being lied about, becoming a terrible friend, sister and daughter. I was dealing with hopelessness, anger, and rage. I was mourning the loss of dreams, and wandering aimlessly from one goal to another. The truth is, I spent the early part of my twenties in a spiral of loss, failure, and disappointment. It's okay to cry, F.J. I am weeping as I type this, because I can only count on one hand the people I have confided in about this terrible time in my life. And though it's hard to publicize, it's a necessary step in the process of doing something that I haven't done yet. You see, Fat Jesse. I forgave my ex a long time ago. I have reconciled with a lot of the family and friends that I hurt during those tough years. But the one thing I haven't done is forgive myself.

Now, as I approach Salina, I realize that the time has come for me to stay awake and face down the things that have stolen my worth for far too long. I am worthy of new dreams. I am ready for a fresh start. And I forgive myself. And now I offer you a promise, Fat Jesse. In exactly thirty pounds, I will hop in my car, drive to Salina and take a picture of myself there. And, because I'm driving, there will be no way I will fall asleep on the way there.

Terrifyingly Vulnerable,
New Jesse, -15 lbs


Image: Nathan Greenwood / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Step 6: Avoid Crabs

Dear Fat Jesse,

One of the most powerful concepts I've learned in my adult life is the idea of a crab bucket. It's the popular metaphor that perfectly illustrates the fact that misery loves company. You see, Fat Jesse, if you put one crab in a bucket, he'll find a way to climb out. The best way to keep that sucker down? Put him in there with some other crabs. When one crab tries to climb out, the others pull him down and scramble to be the next crab on top. I'm 94 % sure that this is where the creators of The Bachelor got their idea.

"I'm almost sure I could possibly be considering
falling in love with you."

This is an important thing to keep in mind when you're trying to lose weight, F.J, or doing anything worthwhile for that matter. There have been times during previous attempts at getting healthy when I've rubbed my eyes, looked around, and realized I was in a bucket full of frenemy crabs...and I was one of them! In fact, the biggest difference in this attempt might not even be in what I'm eating or how hard I'm working out. It's avoiding the Crabs. Here's what I learned from my time in the crab bucket.

The Top 3 Characteristics of a Crab

1. Inability to take a compliment. I've done this more than I'm proud of. EVERYONE does this at some point. But it's critical to learn to stop. It doesn't equal humility and it makes others uncomfortable. And when it comes to being a friend to someone else, this terrible habit can be downright poisonous. Refusing to take a compliment tells everyone in the room that they are now in a bucket, and if they try to get out, they'll get pulled down.

2. Whining. If crying and talking got married, grew apart, got a divorce, and went through an ugly custody battle...whining would be their poor conflicted child caught in the middle. Nothing sucks the life out of a workout partnership faster than hearing the person who is supposed to be motivating you...whining. You've suddenly become this person's mother and they want their boo boo's kissed. Please don't confuse this with the natural commentary that comes from working hard. For example, I've never felt a burn like that in my life! after a workout is not whining. Do we have to lift weights every daaaaaay? Whining, in crab sauce.

3. Back-handed compliments. Oh, Fat Jesse. If I wrote down every back-handed compliment I've gotten from women in my life, I would have a room full of Lisa Frank journals filled with the icky comments I've had to slough off. And yes, I am most certainly singling out women on this one. Women are experts at saying something that sounds nice enough, but makes a person's stomach turn with insecurity. When would you ever hear a man say I always thought you had a pretty face in there somewhere? If you hear a compliment that has a little baby insult riding around in its kangaroo pouch, try your best to ignore the crap out of it. Analyzing its validity will only put you in the bucket.

Fat Jesse, I have been incredibly blessed during this crack at weight loss with an almost Crab-free experience. My husband, friends, and family are some of the best workout partners I could ask for...and I rarely even work out with them. What makes them great is their glaring lack of Crabby characteristics. They motivate me with their quiet confidence, sincerity, and beautiful absence of whining. Even the messages I've gotten from people about how this blog touched them in a small way has made each and every one of those people my workout partners and saved me from the crab bucket for another day.

You know what I'm going to say next. While finding those traits in other people is important, the only thing I can truly control is whether or not I'm being a crab. So I challenge you, Fat Jesse, to check up on yourself every once in a while. Open up your eyes, take a look around, and make sure you're not sprouting claws.

Suddenly craving seafood,

New Jesse, -14 lbs

Crab Image: Simon Howden / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Step 5: Make Room for Better Things

Dear Fat Jesse,

I made a decision this weekend. It's time for the shrine to go. Let me explain...

I, like many people at this time of year, am in a closet cleaning kind of mood. This morning I woke up, filled the baby's tummy and handed her off to her dad so that I could do some major overhaul in my cluttered linen closets. I am proud to announce that I have cleaned all of my makeup brushes and organized my earrings. But something way more important to the fabric (no pun intended) of who I want to become took place today, Fat Jesse. I ditched your shrine...

That is a ginormous trash bag stuffed with clothing of various sizes. I can't even remember what I was up to when each item fit me. Some are probably too big now, but most are definitely too small. There are maternity clothes and plus-sized clothes fashioned into maternity clothes (hey, sometimes you don't feel like paying $40 for a maternity shirt). There are jeans which I'm pretty sure, much like gerbils left unattended, mated and gave birth to other jeans over the course of ten years. All I know is that for all this time, I have held onto these things with the promise that someday they will fit. You must think I am absolutely insane to get rid of perfectly good clothing that will someday fit, and some that may even fit now if I gave it a try. But I don't care, F.J. I am tired of having a museum of different sizes in my home, essentially giving me permission to yo-yo between them if I need to. Each piece is like an exhibit to what I was when I wore it last, and that needs to change. Because I've changed.

Don't worry, I won't be forced to walk around in the buff until I hit my goal weight. But my closet now contains only things I have purchased in the past few months, for my current taste and body size. When I lose weight...I get new things and throw out anything that is too big (my definition of new usually means thrift store finds anyway). I must also mention the two free Planet Fitness t-shirts that the hubby and I scored in much smaller sizes and set a goal to be in them by August. This may seem silly and impractical to anyone who has never battled with a weight problem. But I tell you that nothing in this journey has been more cleansing than this. It's me telling myself...telling you, Fat Jesse...that I'm never stepping out into this world as you- ever again. Even though we stay in communication, F.J., you are no longer invited to the party. Besides, what would you even wear?

Headed to Goodwill,
New Jesse, -13 lbs

The Disney Princess Weight Loss Guide

Dear Fat Jesse,

As with anyone born before 1995, I have a special place in my heart for old school Disney animated movies. Pixar is great, and I love the fact that everything can be seen in 3D for only $300. But there is just something about those classics that can't be beat. The songs, the drama. Just the greatest. Come to think of it, Fat Jesse, the chicks in those movies are pretty skinny. They might just have a thing or two to teach me while I try to get my weight issues in order. Here's what I can glean from my three favorite Disney princesses...

Briar Rose/Aurora: Question the Past

We can all identify with Sleeping Beauty. Girl has evil spell cast on her, and is forced to live with three zany undercover fairies to protect her from the spell's fulfillment. Can we say been there? I jest, F.J., but Briar Rose and I really do have something in common. We both went our young adult lives not questioning the way we'd always done things. She never once asked, "Why am I living in the forest with three women, with no Starbucks in sight?" She just went about, picking berries and dancing with owls in stolen clothing. And me? I've just gone about, ordering fast food twice a day, complaining that I was still fat....and dancing with owls in stolen clothing. I'm telling you, the similarities are eerie! From now on, I'm going to question every practice I've taken for granted my entire life. The ones that are helpful stay, and the destructive ones go in the wood chipper. Oh, and I also need to score a wood chipper. My only hope is that I don't fall into a trance, prick my finger on a spindle, and slip into a coma in the process of finding my true self. That would suck.

Belle (Beauty and the Beast): Hit the Books

Kourtney, Kim, and Khloe? 

I'm not going to blather on about seeing the beauty in those the world calls ugly. Because anyone with a lick of sense would agree that Beast was actually way more handsome than his princely counterpart. That guy was just weird looking and I've always wanted him to go back to being Beast. No, I walk away from this movie with the inspiration to use my brain. Belle was the town smarty pants and wasn't always on trend because of it. Let's bring Belle's character into modern times. These days, a woman either has the option to simply see (Insert K name) Kardashian on one of her twenty-seven reality shows and say, "I must buy her diet supplements" or she can find information for herself. She may not lose weight rapidly. She may not get the respect of beefcakes in glittery Ed Hardy jeans (aka Modern Gaston). No sir, if Belle lived in today's world, she would totally be a science geek, researching the safest and most effective ways to lose weight. Rock on, Belle. I want to be like you.


Ariel (The Little Mermaid): Keep Some Things for Yourself

No father would wish for his daughter to give up her greatest talent and her fin, all for some guy she's only laid eyes on. Really, what father would even approve of that skimpy sea shell bra? But Ariel had it right in one respect. She kept her dream close to the vest until it was time to act, and rightly so. Look at how her dad flipped out on her the moment he discovered her collection of gadgets and gizmos a'plenty. All gone the moment they were found out by someone who didn't approve. Fat Jesse, there will be times when others unintentionally derail you from what you really want in life because they don't have the capacity to understand. There are also those special few who will quite intentionally try to sabotage what you have going  on (see also: Ursula the sea witch). At the end of the day, it just takes a conscious decision to keep swimming--er, moving-- forward. If it's your dream, it's worth (respectfully) ignoring a few people over.

Waiting for the Disney Vault to open,
New Jesse, -12 lbs

P.S. Aurora's blue dress was definitely the prettier one.

Step 4: Bench Press the Baby if You Have To

Dear Fat Jesse,

I gained a pound. Which doesn't stress me out much, because I've been nursing an awesome calf cramp and have been banned from exercise by my husband since Saturday. All the more reason to purchase that foam roller that I know I need. It's times like these, when I am sore and don't want to move forward, that I need to remind myself that I have no excuse to not work out.

Having two kids under the age of three is a death sentence for a woman who wants to exercise. What am I saying? Having one kid, no matter the age, can kill your best laid plans to work out on any given day. That's why, this time around, I've dropped my perfectionist standard of having to be able to go the gym for two hours every day in order to feel like I've done something worthwhile.

These are my favorite ways to get in a super quick workout while the baby swings, or the toddler colors. Although she will inevitably drop what she's doing, stand three inches from me, and copy what I'm doing. That's okay too. I'd rather have her copy my exercises than be able to recite my drive-thru order from Burger King. You laugh, Fat Jesse, but that day wasn't far off before we quit the King.

1. Leslie Sansone. I have been a fan of Leslie's DVD's for years, because it's a great way to get in a nice walk on those days when you don't want to go to the treadmill farm. She has workouts on every level, from walking a quick mile, all the way up to 5 mile walks with optional resistance. Her walk/jog and walk/kick DVD's are no walk in the park either. I even use her pilates, yoga, and stability ball DVD's. She is friendly, gives good cues, and her stuff is cheap and can be found at pretty much any Walmart. (F.J. Difficulty level: 3-6 out of 10, depending on the DVD)

2. EA Sports Active 2. When the Wii first came out and people started exercising with video games, I really brushed it off. Maybe it was the silly looking characters or possibly my intense association of video games with laziness that I couldn't shake. When we got this game two years ago (for PS3), I thought it would be fun, but not much of a workout. Boy, was I wrong. That calf cramp I'm rocking this week? This game is the culprit. It's not your ordinary video game. You strap on arm and leg sensors that track your heart rate and form. Then it takes you on a crazy roller coaster of interval training using basketball, soccer, boxing, cardio, and resistance. At the end of the 26 minute session, I am left panting on the ground, questioning the pivotal decision I made to do that workout 26 minutes ago. It's that awesome. (F.J. Difficulty: A solid 7 or 8, at least in the beginning)

3. Kettlebell. When I first announced my interest in kettlebell, I quickly received a phone call from my brother urging me to take my time and learn proper form. I am so glad he did, because the fact is that kettlebell done improperly can rip out your head and spine like a 1990's Mortal Kombat finishing move. I may be exaggerating a teeny bit, but I want to emphasize that form will make or break this amazingly intense workout. I personally have only busted out the kettlebell in those times that I really wanted to punish my body into submission (like weight gain days). My brother taught me how to do Tabata drills, which are intervals of kettlebell swings, rest, and longer 'active rests' with jumping rope, jogging in place, etc. All in all, the workout adds up to 16 minutes. I can only do half of that. But since it's been proven to burn 20 calories per minute (!), I'm okay with that. It really is the most intense workout a person can get in such a short period of time. I hope to be able to get to the point where I can do the drills multiple times per week, but that will be a while. I'm still pretty wimpy, Fat Jesse. But you knew that. (F.J. Difficulty: 10. Times 10.)

4. Fitbit. Not technically a workout, but it has the potential to make life a workout. Nothing more than a fancy-schmancy pedometer, but it has changed the way I see my day. I just strap on my Fitbit (come to think of it, I don't have mine on yet...) and it tells me how many steps I've taken, stairs climbed, calories burned, etc. But the best part is the free access you get to their website with food and activity logs. I now get calorie burn credit for things like dressing and changing my kids, doing laundry, and vacuuming. Logging my food and seeing the comparison with how many calories I'm burning has truly changed my relationship to food. I now see it as fuel, and I will only lose if I burn more than I take in. Simple as that. (F.J. Difficulty: Facing how much you're really eating in relation to your activity? A whopping 11.)

Someday, Fat Jesse, we will be more focused on one thing. It is my goal to train for a 5k, or to take an hour Zumba class at the gym every morning. But right now, I have to commit to work with what I have. Something is always better than nothing, and I will never let anyone tell me differently ever again. Because at the end of the day, I am the only one I have to answer to for my own health.

Gainfully,
New Jesse, +1 pound

Step 3: A Daily Dose of Vitamin H2

Dear Fat Jesse,

I know you're dying to get to the part where I tell you what we're doing to lose the weight. Workouts, recipes, weird rituals, etc. But we've always cut to that part first, and look where it has gotten us. No, F.J., we must be patient and make sure our brain in on track. We'll get to all of that later. Today, a science lesson....

There is an enzyme that the body produces after consistent weight loss. It's called superiose (soo-PEER-ee-ose). It causes delusions of grandeur, memory loss, and the inability to stand in a normal fashion while taking 'after' photos. Okay, fine. You got me, F.J. I'm using fake science again. But you have to admit that claiming that something is scientific fact makes it so much more compelling. Although there is no physiological explanation (that I can prove) for why a person has the potential to become a huge tool after succeeding at getting the weight off, the fact is that it does happen. And I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen to us, by way of a little preventive medicine every single day. I am an absolute sucker for alliteration, so I have no choice but to go with my two favorite H-words to help us along.


Honesty

The hubs and I watch The Biggest Loser on Netflix religiously, mainly because it's impossible to watch people working out for hours without wanting to do it ourselves. But there are actually quite a few things that irritate me about that show. One moment, F.J. Let me spit out my Extra dessert flavored gum and grab a Yoplait, with many flavors that are only 100 calories. Now, what was I saying? Oh, yes. One of the issues I have with that show is that of clothing choice. Early in the competition, the female contestants are put on display, with just a sports bra and some tight shorts. As they begin to take on a more average build, the wardrobe changes. They actually show less than when they were obese. I've scratched my head over this for a while and have now come to a conclusion. Those women probably have a ridiculous amount of excess skin from rapid weight loss, especially the ones who have passed a few kiddos through their bodies. Even in the final episode with the big reveal, they all stand with that uncomfortable stance that just screams, I can't move or my Spanx will roll down. Am I saying that they have done something wrong by not being able to lose that skin, or even wearing Spanx to tame it? Absolutely not. I just wish they would complain about it a little more on national television. Why? Because it's the truth. And when I get down to my goal weight and will undoubtedly have areas that still look like my mother had a a secret affair with the Michelin man nine months before I came on the scene, I want to know that it's normal! Even at eleven pounds down, I am surprised at the funky ways my body has chosen to change. For example, all of that weight loss is only in my face and my toes. Nothing in between has shown a substantial change, except the now distorted butterfly tattoo you decided to get on our shoulder, Fat Jesse. I want others to be real with me about how much it stinks to get an out-of-shape body into shape. So I commit to do the same for others. No deceptive 'after' pictures. No pretending that things come easily to me that simply don't. And there is no way I will ever make it into the Heidi Klum Klub. You're required to lose your pregnancy weight within 30 minutes of having a baby to get in. I personally believe she kidnapped those kids. Someone should look into that. But I digress, F.J. I must remember, above all, to be honest with myself...er, with you, I guess. It took years of bad habits to get this way. And this is going to be hard. Period.


Humility

Feel the burn!

Human beings are hilarious. We can have an accomplishment under our belt for all of two seconds before we become full-blown experts. I would need an abacus to figure out how many people I've met who got on a very high horse the moment the scale gave them that ultimate number. Why an abacus and not a calculator? Because an abacus burns more calories. Use your head, F.J. We're trying to lose weight here. So what do you do when your pal is up there on their freshly brushed high horse, when months ago they exceeded the weight limit to ride any horse? I wish I knew. I guess all I can do is control how I treat people throughout the whole process. Anyone who knows me well can testify to the fact that this will not be easy for me. I am incredibly bossy, super pushy, and a know-it-all to a fault. And that's what I do when I love someone! Which brings us to our honorable mention H-word....


Helpfulness

My heart would drop to my cankles if anyone that I love read the above and thought that I might be talking about them. The truth is that the abacus count that I have done (and burned 9 calories!) consists mainly of people that didn't even know me well enough to be advising me on such matters. I have a gaggle of family and friends who have offered me so much help and advice to push me to succeed. They've taught me proper form to prevent injury, shared their research with me, and told me how much things were going to hurt. The point that I'm trying to make, Fat Jesse, is that when you share your experiences with people using honesty and humility as your standard, you become helpful.

Always Alliterative,
New Jesse, -11 lbs

Abacus Image: nuchylee / FreeDigitalPhotos.net