Article for Fitness Centre newsletter

[Guest guest]

Did I mention that I was recently asked to write an article for the

newsletter my fitness club puts out? They wanted first-person account

of my experience of weight loss and fitness. Here's what I came up with.

*****

The winter wind cuts across my face, and I wish I'd remembered to pull

my scarf up, as I walk across the RA Centre's West parking lot. My gym

bag weighs a ton -- what's in there, anyway? Bricks? A kind gentleman

holds the door for me, and I'm inside, heading for the locker room. I

navigate from memory, since my glasses have fogged up in the transition

from -24 temperatures to indoors. It takes less than two minutes to

change into my gym wear: baggy grey sweats, a tank top that lost its

shape several laundries ago, and a pair of cross-trainers that used to

be white. In passing, I wonder whether they need to be replaced. Didn't

I read something about replacing your workout shoes every six months,

after hard wear? Will have to look into this.

And then I'm sprinting up the stairs, grabbing my step on the way into

the gym, filling my water bottle at the fountain. The instructor is

already there, testing the brand new sound system (yay!), and at the

sound of the heavy dance beat my feet begin to march in place, almost

of their own accord. Right foot on the downbeat, march it out for

eight, now go wide for four, back in...another aerobics class has begun.

Two years ago, I couldn't have imagined myself making it through a

class like this without collapsing. Two years ago, I weighed 150 lbs.

more than I do now. My doctor said I was " morbidly obese " -- now,

there's a phrase with an ugly ring to it. What does it mean, exactly?

Morbid obesity is defined as having a Body Mass Index of 40 or above,

and it is associated with multiple health risks, from heart disease and

Type II Diabetes to urinary stress incontinence and musculoskeletal

pain. And that doesn't even count the psychosocial costs. Fat people

are one of the last groups it's considered okay to ridicule. Many

people assume that fat people are lazy, unmotivated, ugly and stupid.

" If only they could control their appetite, " the thinking goes, " they

wouldn't have this problem. They bring it on themselves. "

Many fat people make a do control their appetites -- they diet, losing

and regaining weight in a painful cycle of initial success followed by

failure and shame. I was one of those perpetual dieters, losing 25,

50, even 100 pounds at a time. Unfortunately, those pounds always

seemed to find me again, and they brought their friends. I went from

being moderately overweight in my 20s, to obese in my 30s, and now here

I was on the wrong side of 40, with the label " morbidly obese " attached

to me like a scarlet letter. I had high triglycerides, and my doctor

told me I was a prime candidate for diabetes. My blood pressure was

creeping upward. My back, knees, ankles, and heels hurt constantly;

sometimes I could hardly stand, let alone walk. I was exhausted all the

time. It was time for a change.

Gastric bypass surgery is a drastic measure, one that I only began to

consider when I'd exhausted every other weight loss possibility. But on

September 19, 2001, I checked in to the General campus of the Ottawa

Hospital, where Dr. Freeman stapled off a small upper segment of

my stomach, bypassed 1.2 metres of my intestine, including my entire

duodenum, and hooked my lower intestine up to the tiny pouch that now

serves as my stomach. This was serious surgery, not something I'd

recommend to anyone who just needs to lose a few pounds; but for me, it

was a life saver. In the first six weeks, I lost close to 50 pounds; by

the end of November, I was standing at the RA Centre's registration

desk, signing up for the aerobics program.

Gastric bypass surgery in itself is not a ticket to a normal, healthy

weight. In fact, most people who have the surgery lose an average of

65% of their excess weight because of the surgery; to lose more, they

must work at it. And working at it means, among other things...(drum

roll, please)...exercise. When I had my surgery, I decided that I was

not going to go through a potentially life-threatening procedure, only

to lose two-thirds of my excess weight -- I wanted to go the whole way,

and that meant a commitment to exercise. Before I started, my

nutritionist told me, " Never commit to doing anything if you can't see

yourself doing it for the rest of your life. " Made sense to me.

And so I started out as I intended to keep going, with a minimum of

three and a maximum of five aerobics classes per week. I chose aerobics

because I like the music, I like the structure, I like the instructors,

and I like the camaraderie that develops in the classes. It wasn't easy

at first, though. In the first few months, I'm sure I terrified my

instructors, as I huffed and puffed my way through the routines, often

emerging with my face an alarming shade of red. There were days when I

seemed to possess three left feet, and other, better ones when I only

had two. To put it politely, choreography does not come naturally to me!

I really started to come into my own, though, when I ventured into the

muscular strength and endurance classes. I discovered, to my utter

amazement, that I liked the feeling I got from lifting hand weights and

pushing my glutes and quads into unending sets of squats and lunges.

And gradually, as my excess fat burned away, I began to feel actual

muscle -- hard muscle! -- building up on my shoulders, arms,

legs...even my abs. Who knew? These days, I incorporate at least two

weekly weights sessions into my workout routine. The increased muscle

mass helps me maintain my new healthy weight, as well as helping keep

my middle-aged bones from losing precious calcium stores.

When people ask me about the changes in my life since my huge weight

loss, I am hard pressed to answer, only because the changes have been

so sweeping and all-encompassing. For starters, I no longer have high

triglycerides, and my blood pressure is low these days. My clothing

has gone from size 24 to size 6, and I shop wherever I like now, rather

than being restricted to two or three " plus size " stores. Even my feet

have shrunk a full size! My husband tells me he likes the feeling of

being able to wrap his arms all the way around me, and he recently

discovered that he could lift me up, prompting suggestions that we get

married again, just so that he can carry me across the threshold in the

time-honoured tradition. I'll get back to you on this one.

But mostly, I love the feeling of moving my body, the feeling of

freedom and strength that come with physical fitness. In contrast to

the person who once found it difficult to trudge a kilometre or two, I

now walk or even run, bounding up stairs and playing impromptu games

of " doggy hockey " (a complicated game consisting of running and

kicking chunks of ice for our dog, who finds this deliriously

entertaining). I know that for some people, motivation can be a

challenge that gets in the way of a regular commitment to a fitness

program. For me, though, the motivation is renewed every day when I

look into the mirror, when I remember where I came from. And I know

that no matter how unenthusiastic I might be feeling on my way into a

class, within minutes I'll be marching it out, and my body will be

thanking me for it.

*****

Irving is the author of the Katy Klein mystery series: Pluto

Rising (1999), Jupiter's Daughter (2000) and Mars Eclipsed (2001). She

is currently working on the fourth book in the series, Venus Wept. She

doesn't look anything at all like the author photos in the backs of her

books.

*****

--

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

RNY September 19, 2001

Dr. Freeman, Ottawa General Hospital

BMI then: 43.5

BMI now: 22

-152 lbs

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

[Guest guest]

Did I mention that I was recently asked to write an article for the

newsletter my fitness club puts out? They wanted first-person account

of my experience of weight loss and fitness. Here's what I came up with.

*****

The winter wind cuts across my face, and I wish I'd remembered to pull

my scarf up, as I walk across the RA Centre's West parking lot. My gym

bag weighs a ton -- what's in there, anyway? Bricks? A kind gentleman

holds the door for me, and I'm inside, heading for the locker room. I

navigate from memory, since my glasses have fogged up in the transition

from -24 temperatures to indoors. It takes less than two minutes to

change into my gym wear: baggy grey sweats, a tank top that lost its

shape several laundries ago, and a pair of cross-trainers that used to

be white. In passing, I wonder whether they need to be replaced. Didn't

I read something about replacing your workout shoes every six months,

after hard wear? Will have to look into this.

And then I'm sprinting up the stairs, grabbing my step on the way into

the gym, filling my water bottle at the fountain. The instructor is

already there, testing the brand new sound system (yay!), and at the

sound of the heavy dance beat my feet begin to march in place, almost

of their own accord. Right foot on the downbeat, march it out for

eight, now go wide for four, back in...another aerobics class has begun.

Two years ago, I couldn't have imagined myself making it through a

class like this without collapsing. Two years ago, I weighed 150 lbs.

more than I do now. My doctor said I was " morbidly obese " -- now,

there's a phrase with an ugly ring to it. What does it mean, exactly?

Morbid obesity is defined as having a Body Mass Index of 40 or above,

and it is associated with multiple health risks, from heart disease and

Type II Diabetes to urinary stress incontinence and musculoskeletal

pain. And that doesn't even count the psychosocial costs. Fat people

are one of the last groups it's considered okay to ridicule. Many

people assume that fat people are lazy, unmotivated, ugly and stupid.

" If only they could control their appetite, " the thinking goes, " they

wouldn't have this problem. They bring it on themselves. "

Many fat people make a do control their appetites -- they diet, losing

and regaining weight in a painful cycle of initial success followed by

failure and shame. I was one of those perpetual dieters, losing 25,

50, even 100 pounds at a time. Unfortunately, those pounds always

seemed to find me again, and they brought their friends. I went from

being moderately overweight in my 20s, to obese in my 30s, and now here

I was on the wrong side of 40, with the label " morbidly obese " attached

to me like a scarlet letter. I had high triglycerides, and my doctor

told me I was a prime candidate for diabetes. My blood pressure was

creeping upward. My back, knees, ankles, and heels hurt constantly;

sometimes I could hardly stand, let alone walk. I was exhausted all the

time. It was time for a change.

Gastric bypass surgery is a drastic measure, one that I only began to

consider when I'd exhausted every other weight loss possibility. But on

September 19, 2001, I checked in to the General campus of the Ottawa

Hospital, where Dr. Freeman stapled off a small upper segment of

my stomach, bypassed 1.2 metres of my intestine, including my entire

duodenum, and hooked my lower intestine up to the tiny pouch that now

serves as my stomach. This was serious surgery, not something I'd

recommend to anyone who just needs to lose a few pounds; but for me, it

was a life saver. In the first six weeks, I lost close to 50 pounds; by

the end of November, I was standing at the RA Centre's registration

desk, signing up for the aerobics program.

Gastric bypass surgery in itself is not a ticket to a normal, healthy

weight. In fact, most people who have the surgery lose an average of

65% of their excess weight because of the surgery; to lose more, they

must work at it. And working at it means, among other things...(drum

roll, please)...exercise. When I had my surgery, I decided that I was

not going to go through a potentially life-threatening procedure, only

to lose two-thirds of my excess weight -- I wanted to go the whole way,

and that meant a commitment to exercise. Before I started, my

nutritionist told me, " Never commit to doing anything if you can't see

yourself doing it for the rest of your life. " Made sense to me.

And so I started out as I intended to keep going, with a minimum of

three and a maximum of five aerobics classes per week. I chose aerobics

because I like the music, I like the structure, I like the instructors,

and I like the camaraderie that develops in the classes. It wasn't easy

at first, though. In the first few months, I'm sure I terrified my

instructors, as I huffed and puffed my way through the routines, often

emerging with my face an alarming shade of red. There were days when I

seemed to possess three left feet, and other, better ones when I only

had two. To put it politely, choreography does not come naturally to me!

I really started to come into my own, though, when I ventured into the

muscular strength and endurance classes. I discovered, to my utter

amazement, that I liked the feeling I got from lifting hand weights and

pushing my glutes and quads into unending sets of squats and lunges.

And gradually, as my excess fat burned away, I began to feel actual

muscle -- hard muscle! -- building up on my shoulders, arms,

legs...even my abs. Who knew? These days, I incorporate at least two

weekly weights sessions into my workout routine. The increased muscle

mass helps me maintain my new healthy weight, as well as helping keep

my middle-aged bones from losing precious calcium stores.

When people ask me about the changes in my life since my huge weight

loss, I am hard pressed to answer, only because the changes have been

so sweeping and all-encompassing. For starters, I no longer have high

triglycerides, and my blood pressure is low these days. My clothing

has gone from size 24 to size 6, and I shop wherever I like now, rather

than being restricted to two or three " plus size " stores. Even my feet

have shrunk a full size! My husband tells me he likes the feeling of

being able to wrap his arms all the way around me, and he recently

discovered that he could lift me up, prompting suggestions that we get

married again, just so that he can carry me across the threshold in the

time-honoured tradition. I'll get back to you on this one.

But mostly, I love the feeling of moving my body, the feeling of

freedom and strength that come with physical fitness. In contrast to

the person who once found it difficult to trudge a kilometre or two, I

now walk or even run, bounding up stairs and playing impromptu games

of " doggy hockey " (a complicated game consisting of running and

kicking chunks of ice for our dog, who finds this deliriously

entertaining). I know that for some people, motivation can be a

challenge that gets in the way of a regular commitment to a fitness

program. For me, though, the motivation is renewed every day when I

look into the mirror, when I remember where I came from. And I know

that no matter how unenthusiastic I might be feeling on my way into a

class, within minutes I'll be marching it out, and my body will be

thanking me for it.

*****

Irving is the author of the Katy Klein mystery series: Pluto

Rising (1999), Jupiter's Daughter (2000) and Mars Eclipsed (2001). She

is currently working on the fourth book in the series, Venus Wept. She

doesn't look anything at all like the author photos in the backs of her

books.

*****

--

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

RNY September 19, 2001

Dr. Freeman, Ottawa General Hospital

BMI then: 43.5

BMI now: 22

-152 lbs

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>