Crabby Goes to a Conference and Learns Four Things

By Crabby McSlacker

Crabby and the Lobster have at last arrived in Austin where they are spending the winter. Lots to love about Austin, it's a fitnessy town! And a few things to grouse about as well, but more on all that in a future blog post.

So one of the first things Crabby did in Austin, even before unpacking, was attend the  Prevention's R3 Women's Health Summit.

(And why is Crabby sudden speaking in the third person? She has no idea. Perhaps it has to do with insomnia, a problem she thought she'd seen the end of. Lately it's back with a vengeance. She hasn't had a good night's sleep in five days and it's fucking with her head). But ok, enough. Crabby shall hereby transform from a "she" to an "I." Ready?

So yeah, I'm a little late and sketchy reporting on the conference. I went in on Friday feeling harried and I had to leave before it finished on Saturday, so I missed some of the speakers. But despite my distracted and slipshod mindset, I actually came away with a lot! (Including two tote bags stuffed with swag and the enjoyment of a ton of free food and beverages. And everyone knows that free food and beverages do not contain calories. It's a rule.)

But aside from the cans of tuna and the pound of coffee and the vaginal moisturizer and the hemp bars and soaps and supplements and toothbrushes, what were some of the take-aways?



1. Enthusiasm is Contagious!

Sure, there was plenty of substantive information about women's health and fitness, but the real value seemed to be the whole inspirational/motivational thing.  Not only the speakers, but the women attending seemed very psyched to be there and were energized and friendly and fun to be around.

(Fun and friendliness not shown in this shitty photo, sorry.

I wasn't so good at remembering to take pictures).

Even though I was a little foot-draggy when I went in (due to many consecutive long days in an automobile), I was pretty pumped coming out. It seemed to be a common sentiment, because most of the women I met had a great time, and were either repeat visitors or had heard how fun it was from a friend.

So if there's something you're interested in, and you can afford it: consider going to a conference and hanging out with hundreds of other random people who share those interests. Strangely pleasant experience!


2. Dare to Suck at Things

It seems funny that Joan Lunden would be a role model for flailing and failing, but besides talking about her battle with breast cancer, she told some great tales about her early days in television.  The upshot was: when opportunity arises, say yes, even if you aren't all that well qualified or prepared. Don't worry so much about looking like an idiot. Because you might at first! But then you'll get better, and you'll move on to even more interesting opportunities, and eventually you'll be pretty bad-ass at whatever you aspire to and you'll be really glad you weren't too chickenshit to put yourself out there.

Note: That was a paraphrase. Joan Lunden did not actually use the words bad-ass or chickenshit.

Anyway, duh, right? We know this intellectually. And yet Joan gave this advice in such a funny real-life way that it seemed almost fresh.  And she reminded us that women tend to be way less comfortable taking risks than men are.  We want to be perfectly prepared and 100% confident that people will think we are awesome before we take on a challenge. If not? Meh, whatever, we'll just sit on the sidelines, thanks, and let some guy who's half as qualified step in and take over. God forbid we expose our fragile egos to anything less than a rousing chorus of cheers.

It turned out her timing was good, because right as Joan was talking about this stuff, it was time for me to go to the press room to interview a couple of people for spur of the moment interviews, because I'd been too hesitant and disorganized and didn't sign up for anything in advance.  Having no real credentials, nor any clue what I was going to ask them, I felt a little nervous.  But I had Joan's inspiring "get out there and suck" encouragement.

Plus... I had a lanyard!

(Such is my life that I get ridiculously excited by going to a conference and wearing a lanyard.)

But anyway, buoyed by her talk I went and burbled half-assed questions to a couple of nice speakers, and found myself very intrigued by the answers, even if I'm not going to write up a whole long story about them. When it comes to conferences, I specialize in the free-loading part. The whole "reporting" thing is not really my forte.

Hmm, weird isn't it, that I don't get invited to more conferences?

3. Be Authentic

So Bob Roth is a renowned teacher of Transcendental Meditation, and is the Executive Director of the David Lynch Foundation, which provides TM training to at-risk kids, veterans, and victims of domestic violence. Cool, right? He also does a lot of other important stuff, including appearing on TV and interviewing people like Jerry Seinfeld and he brings TM to Fortune 500 companies so their executives can periodically chill out of "grrrr, must conquer world now" mode. He's a great speaker; very funny and persuasive and informative.

We already know that meditation has a ton of physical and mental health benefits, but the research on TM in particular was new to me and very impressive.  And there was a video showing kids in inner-city schools who were pretty much able to change their lives because meditation had become part of their day. Can't say as much about long division or learning state capitals, right?

But part of what made Bob a great speaker was that he didn't try to be slick; instead he came across as authentic and down to earth and even a little nerdy. (Though this doesn't mean I've renounced my geekcrush on Rick Hanson). In person, Bob was so warm and approachable, I felt like I could be a doof and ask real questions, even if some of them were skeptical and lame and possibly annoying. He was authentic, so I was authentic. He answered my questions in reassuring and informative ways, and I came away from our talk really wanting to try TM.

So after I give TM training a shot (courtesy of the generosity of Bob and the David Lynch Foundation), I'll let you know how it goes. Thanks for your generosity, Bob!

4. Do Not Pose for Pictures With Tall Blonde Gorgeous Authors Unless You Don't Mind Looking Like a Hulking Troll Who Wandered in From a Cave Somewhere

Wendy Bazilion is an author, educator and researcher who knows a ton about nutrition. Her latest book is Eat Clean, Stay Lean. Since I was ill-prepared for our interview, I was greatly relieved to discover that she is very sensible and science-based. Her strategies for cleaning up dietary transgressions and eating healthier are effective with all kinds of different diet philosophies. Unlike many diet book authors, she is not at all a looney crackpot or a restrictive diet Nazi.

(Feel free to use that as a cover blurb, Wendy!)

Anyway, she was delightful and very smart and you should probably buy her book.  Just don't stand next to her if there is a camera nearby.

So have any of you been to any gatherings or conferences you've enjoyed?  Anyone else not sleeping? Experience with TM? Or hell, how's your week going?

HCG PROTOCOL AFTER EATING DISORDER RECOVERY

WHAT IS HIDING BEHIND YOUR DESIRE TO LOSE WEIGHT?

When someone comes to me for help, they are seeking guidance for how to rid the horrific side-effects of dieting. These effects are described as chronic anxiety, paranoia, panic, fear, and obsessive thinking about size, weight, clothes, food, and restrictions. They are ridden with incessant pressure to fix their body, anxiety about food, and are heavily burdened by the daily task of starving in order to feel safe and adequate in their body.

When you look at the negative emotions one has about themselves, it's clear why the abuse and dysfunction of dieting is rationalized as a worthy cause. The obsessive mental focus on restrictions, food, and exercise are promoted as “healthy”, with the underlying belief that all of the negative emotions will go away once their body is good enough.

The problem with this focus is that it misdirects and projects the original emotions one has about themselves onto the body. But in fact, the emotions were there prior to believing weight-loss would make the uncomfortable emotions go away. Once an individual believes fat loss will make them feel better emotionally, fat becomes the focal point of cause and effect. In other words, if you feel ashamed and you believe losing weight will make those feeling go away, the unintended consequence is that gaining fat becomes a cause of shame.

For me, days after a traumatic sexual assault, I decided losing weight would help me direct and control intolerable feelings of loss, darkness, shame, fear, chaos, and disorientation. Because I didn’t understand the trauma or recognize why I felt ashamed, my first instinct wasn’t to fix the experience, but rather to blame and fix myself. My way to resolve feelings of inadequacy, failure, and chaos was through organization, order, and control of food, and through a fantasy that fat loss would make me feel powerful and safe.

I consciously made my diet and body my unconscious cause and effect.

Once I began to successfully restrict food and lose weight I experienced feelings of peace, calm, quiet, safe, and order. But the moment I deviated from the safety of my diet, my coping mechanism became my biggest enemy. It became a bigger cause of failure and emotional pain than the original trauma itself.

Feelings of failure, inadequacy, shame, chaos, disorientation, and panic came flooding back, but worse. The only focus that would remove those feelings was to eliminate the damage. Purging, excessive exercise and obsessive dieting took over. Like a rabbit hole, I was sucked into a vicious cycle of mostly shame, fear, panic, anxiety, starving, and severe psychological pain.

At its worst I would have to exercise to burn at least 1200 calories a day and would starve enough to binge and purge 8-12 a day. All just to feel fleeting moments of safety. Ninety percent of my day was spend in horror and heavy depression, especially when I realized there was no way out.  It wasn’t until I had decided to commit suicide that the process unraveled.

In the end, I had to get down to the original emotions and detach them from my body. I had to experience those emotions as a soul, not a body, giving me clarity, perspective, and freedom from the torture of trauma and the suffering of my coping mechanism.

The people who come to me for help, I understand. I know what Hell feels like and despite feeling inescapable, there is freedom. But not without going into the original emotions, and not with coping mechanisms to escape.

When you have the humility to willfully surrender ALL coping mechanisms you accept responsibility for your emotions. You open your mind to recontextualize trauma, and have compassion for yourself and others. You open your soul to the grace necessary to recognize illusions, and the freedom from having to be defined by them.

There is freedom, and it isn’t with a coping mechanism. Once you open yourself to what you are afraid to feel, you are given perspective. Here is a session with a client where I discuss the insanity of dieting and the truth of what your desire to lose weight is hiding.

SCHEDULE TO WORK WITH ROBIN TODAY: weightlossapocalypse.com

One For the Road

photo via James Vaughan

Guest Post by Jan Bono

Crabby McSlacker and her intrepid spouse, known here as"The Lobster," are currently on the road. Regular readers may recall that they are heading from Provincetown Massachusetts to Austin Texas to spend the winter.  They are not flying (or walking or biking for that matter), so they find themselves spending many, many, many hours every day scrunched up in their perky but diminutive Honda Fit. Alas, it takes quite a bit of unscrunching at the end of the day to be able to walk again.

But anyway, it seems fitting that this week we have a car-related excerpt from Jan Bono's inspirational book, “Back from Obesity: My 252-pound Weight-Loss Journey.” Enjoy! --Crabby

Singing the car buying blues

My car was nine years old and had over 130,000 hard-earned miles on it. The trips to the repair shop had become alarmingly frequent. On Thanksgiving eve my vehicle had refused to restart after I shut it off at the gas station.

It was time to buy something new, but I was dragging my feet. I had purchased my Honda Accord in 1991 simply because it was the only car I could find at the time I could fit into. Now I was 30 or 40 pounds heavier. I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to find anything I could safely drive and stay within my budget.

“Get a Toyota,” said my friend Pat. “You’ll fit in a Camry, I’d bet on it.”

I didn’t want a Toyota.



I didn’t want to have to buy any car at all. I didn’t want to go through the humiliation of pulling onto a new car lot and having all the lean and hungry salesmen look me over and run the other way, sure I was there just to waste their opportunity to make a sale with a more…uh…“viable” customer.

But I also didn’t want to put any more money into the car I had. It was time. And when it’s time, if we are paying the least bit of attention, an opportunity always presents itself.

My opportunity arrived in the form of a flyer enclosed in the newspaper I’d purchased to check out the day after Thanksgiving Black Friday sales. Naturally, because there is only one Divine Mind at work in the entire Universe, the flyer advertised a Toyota sale in Longview— a neighboring community 75 miles up the Columbia River.

I took a deep breath, then located the title to my car, emptied the trunk and glove box, wiped off the dashboard and vacuumed under the seats. When I arrived in Longview I ran it through a car wash.

Pangs of separation anxiety began to take hold as I neared the car lot. My hot little metallic cranberry red Honda had served me well for nine years. I loved this car! The tales it could tell! And yet, I knew there was very little “get up and go” left in it. Still, I balked at the thought of giving up that part of my youth.

Once at the Toyota dealership, it went pretty much as I’d envisioned. As I got out of my car, a dozen circling sharks huddled and conferred and shoved from among them a very young and obviously inexperienced salesman. He cautiously approached me, wiping his clammy hand on his slacks before extending it. He asked what kind of car I was looking for.

“Did you lose the coin toss?” I couldn’t help asking.

He looked bewildered.

“The joke’s on them,” I said, motioning to the group of salesmen next to the office. “I am here to buy a car today. Do you want to sell me a car?”

He laughed nervously. “I haven’t sold a car all month,” he confessed.

It was November 28.

“Then today’s your lucky day,” I said. “Show me a car I can fit into without having to wedge my stomach against the steering wheel and I’ll buy it.”

He thought I was kidding. I wasn’t.

I figured I’d need to get a 2-door because I thought the wider door would give me easier access to the driver’s seat. I also wanted a 2-door because a 4-door was indicative (at least in my mind) of middle-aged people with families, who naturally needed a 4-door car.

But for some unknown reason, taking away two doors adds a great deal more to the selling price of a vehicle. And the first few cars the salesman showed me were much more money than I could comfortably afford. In other words, all the 2-door Toyotas were way beyond my budget. Reluctantly, I asked him to show me a 4-door model.

The first 4-door car he showed me was not any color I ever would have chosen. Not in this lifetime. It was gray. Secret Service gray.

 A plain, nondescript, milquetoast, conservative 4-door Camry, and certainly not representative of the woman inside me who was screaming her head off for a fire-engine-red corvette convertible or some equally bright color of a hot Mustang GT.

But this was the car listed in the newspaper sale flyer. He called it “the ad car.” I called it “the bait to get me here car,” since there were no other cars of this make and model and price available. So gray it was. Take it or leave it. It fit my budget, and with any luck, I would be able to fit inside and still manipulate the steering wheel.

The kid, despite his lack of years, was no dummy. He reached inside and adjusted the steering wheel as high as it would go and then moved the driver’s seat all the way back before he held the door open for me.

I got in. So far, so good, but I couldn’t quite reach the pedals. I tentatively moved the electric seat forward until I could just touch the accelerator with ball of my right foot.

I laid my hand flat on my stomach and rubbed it up and down. The back of my hand rubbed against the edge of the steering wheel. I tried to move the seat back just a little, but found even the slightest adjustment left me pressing the gas and brake pedals with only the very tips of my toes.

I moved the seat forward again until there was less than a half-inch of space between my stomach and the steering wheel; I could barely breathe without bumping against it. The young salesman gently closed my door and got in on the passenger side. He began pointing out the various dials and functions on the dashboard.

The trunk latch and gas cap release levers were on the floor next to the driver’s seat. I couldn’t begin to reach either of them without opening the door and leaning more than half way out of the vehicle.

“Before you go any further,” I said, “I better see if I can actually drive this thing.” I started the car and drove it carefully off the lot and onto the road. I had lived in Longview years before, so I didn’t need him to tell me where to turn to get to the freeway. The car handled fine, and I returned to the sales lot without incident.

Then, and only then, did I reach around me for the seatbelt. I pulled the strap out as far as my arm extended and attempted to wrap it around me.

“Do you want a little help with that?” asked the salesman.

“Do you come with the car to help me fasten the seatbelt every time I drive it?” I replied.

He blushed and sat still while I blindly wrestled with the buckle. When it finally snapped into place, I heaved a great sigh of relief.

“Now let’s see if I can get out of here,” I said, fumbling for the release button. “And we can go sharpen up that pencil of yours.”

He grinned, and I grinned back.

I drove almost halfway home in my plain, nondescript, 4-door conservative gray Camry before I took a good look in the rearview mirror. The woman who looked back was a middle-aged, morbidly obese, milquetoast middle-school teacher. I pulled the car over and sobbed like I’d just lost my best friend.

I allowed myself to sit in my grief and fully experience it. Then I got out my pen and added a hot, racy new sports car on my list of ultimate weight-loss rewards. I’d forgo the idea of a red Corvette for another Mustang. I’d had three Mustangs in the past, and I fervently hoped there was still at least one more waiting in my future.

Post Script: And in 2014, for my 60th birthday, I bought myself a Mustang to celebrate!!!

Resolution Realization: The Only Trick That Really Works. (For Me).

via wikimedia

By Crabby McSlacker

So I used to think the whole idea of New Year's resolutions was stupid and arbitrary. But now I'm more like: "hell, why not?"

I'm always working on some sort of goal anyway. So why not take advantage of the timing? If I undertake a delusional quest for behavioral change at the same time everyone else is similarly psyched up, we can all pretend together that there is something magical about a date on a calendar!

Will it help our motivation? Who knows? But the fantasy of a fresh start is pretty darn enjoyable in itself.

This year, however, I cheated and started a while back, working on something I wanted to change.  I tried an approach that is anything but new, and you've already heard it a hundred times. I know I've written about it many times before. It's so simple and obvious you'll feel totally cheated when I remind you of what it is.

Yet if you actually use it, instead of saying "I know that" and ignoring it--well, damn it if it doesn't totally work. Could be very handy for use as a new year's resolution tool.

At least the results for me have been pretty amazing. Using this method I went quite quickly from Wishful Thinking to a full-fledged Sustainable Behavioral Change! And I felt the difference almost instantly. I'm actually pretty confident that as long as I keep applying this principle, I will continue to be successful.  And conversely, I suspect that as soon as I go back to "knowing it" but not "doing it," I'll be back daydreaming about accomplishments rather than having any.

Are there major drawbacks to this method? Of course there are! More about that later.

Meanwhile, here's your simple recipe for New Year's Resolution Success:

1. Take ONE and only ONE behavioral goal.

This may be the hardest part. You want to change everything for the new year! But the trick won't work reliably unless you take just one thing at a time.

My real life example: I needed to get back to writing my novel. I had become disheartened by how sucky it seemed and I was very close to giving up entirely.

2. Break the goal down into an insanely small, easy, incremental change. 

You may find that you accidentally do more, but do NOT start demanding more of yourself. Then you will start dreading the process, instead of feeling relieved every time that it was such a piece of cake.

Talk about small: I required myself to write one sentence in my novel every day.  Seriously, that's all.

Similarly, if you were trying to add more exercise to your routine? Try two extra minutes walking per day than you were before.

3. Find a natural, reliable trigger for the slightly-more-positive behavior.  

You want to link your new behavior to something that occurs regularly in your day, or set up a recurring timer or calendar reminder.

One thing that won't work? A non-specific hope that your future self will accomplish the behavior sometime during the day. You need to know when and where this easy-peasey activity is going to happen. Or the day will be done and you will realize you forgot.

Real life example: I must open my word document and write something while I'm drinking my first cup of coffee in the morning. And there is no chance in hell that I'm not having a first cup of coffee.

Here's a hypothetical exercise example: At lunchtime, before eating lunch, you could go outside and walk around your office building.

(Note: if you work somewhere like the Pentagon or on an oil rig out on the ocean, or if you are a pilot or flight attendant, you may need another plan).

4. Keep practicing using the trigger to initiate the behavior over and over--for a ridiculously long time.

You will be tempted to increase the goal behavior too soon.  It's fine to increase your activity, but you do not get to change your expectations about minimally acceptable behavior. At least not until you are so mindlessly consistent and proficient at overshooting your initial target that there is no danger of discouragement if you raise your expectations a little.

For example, I've been writing a few hundred words in my novel almost every day for the last 3 weeks or so, but my minimum is still one sentence. My thought is that once we get through most of this real-estate madness and drive to Austin, I may increase that target. But by then I'll have had a good long run of surviving the ego-deflating lameness of my creative process on a daily basis.

5.  Celebrate successes with great pride and smugness.

It may feel ridiculous to celebrate a miniscule daily accomplishment, but you are building consistency and changing the unconscious parts of your brain and this is HUGE.

Real life:  I actually do feel really psyched that I am still writing, even on days where I literally only write once sentence.

6. Acknowledge f-ckups nonjudgmentally, and tweak goals or triggers accordingly.

Even laughably small goals can be hard to meet consistently, especially if it's a totally new behavior, or your life gets crazy, or other priorities start to seem more important, or you haven't set up your environment to make success as easy as possible.  You may have to troubleshoot or pick an even easier target.

But DO NOT GIVE UP! Your subconscious mind will use it to mess with you. It will hoard the evidence of your failure and subvert you with it later, just for kicks.  Don't give it the ammunition!

7. Once the new behavior becomes so habitual that motivation is barely an issue anymore, then and only then can you add greater expectations.  

You will of course be tempted to make the next incremental change way bigger than the first.  Resist!

What Sucks BigTime About This Method:

It's incredibly slow. And it's not very sexy.

You may feel a like a pathetic loser setting the bar so low, and keeping it there so long.  And who wants to tackle just one change at a time when there are so many challenges in life to tackle?

But on the other hand, think of how many people make the same resolutions every year, and never keep them?

Are there other people who claim to have invented this approach?

Yes! Because it's not exactly rocket science.  Anyone who tends to overthink everything about their own personal growth eventually stumbles onto it. But if you want a whole program designed around a similar concept, there's a guy who does something like this over at tinyhabits.com.

Have any of you ever kept a behavior-change promise to yourself by making it tiny and slow, or do you like to go for it in a big way?