Day 20 of My Resume: My Checklist Manifesto

Do remember Chester "Sully" Sullenberger? He was the airline pilot who landed a US Airways flight in the Hudson River in 2009 when both of its engines had been disabled by flying geese.

Sullenberger was immediately acclaimed as a national hero. He appeared on daytime talk shows and glossy tabloid magazine spreads. He became a household name. Yet he always stressed that it was a full crew effort. And as Atul Gawande points out in his wonderfully thought-provoking 2011 book, The Checklist Manifesto, Sullenberger and his team also succeeded because they followed a humble checklist. (You can also read a great account of Gawande's ideas in this New Yorker article.)

Gawande makes a compelling case that checklists, like the kind airplane pilots use in emergencies, have the power to transform our world. As the world has become increasingly complex, and the amount of knowledge required for complex activities like surgery and airplane pilot has increased, it has become more and more difficult to ensure that critical actions be performed consistently and correctly.

A powerful tool to overcome this difficulty and to ensure success, he argues, is the simple checklist. Checklists have been proven to reduce errors in complex surgical operations and to save lives in airplane disasters.

Gawande doesn't delve much into how ordinary people can develop and use checklists for their own lives. His book is a manifesto about their worth, not a how-to book.

But it got me thinking about how a humble checklist can be a remarkably powerful tool in my own life, especially my work to overcome unhealthy eating habits.

I've been keeping a nightly checklist since I began this journey. It lists the things I try to do every day:
-- Meditate
-- Daily inspirational reading
-- Blog or Facebook post
-- Listen to an inspiring audio or podcast
-- Daily self-care activity
-- 7-8 hours sleep
-- Home-from-work ritual (cup of tea, scented candle, slippers)
-- 3 daily gratitudes
-- No sugar
-- No flour
-- Weigh all meals
-- Eat only at mealtime

Over the past two years, I've mostly treated this nightly checklist as a habit tracker. A way to monitor my actions and see how well I'm doing.

Missed meditating for three days? Better get back on track. Ate flour four out of seven days last week? Tighten that up. A checklist works well this way.

But I wonder if I can make it an even more powerful tool to get me through a difficult phase as I'm trying to resume? What if, at least temporarily, I made it one of my most important tools?

Since I'm trying to resume, what if instead of seeing it as a habit tracker, I instead think of it as something like a pilot's emergency checklist to save a plane that's spinning out of control.

I have set myself the task of using my nightly checklist as an emergency daily to-do list. I have decided to complete each step on my nightly checklist. Every day.

Because really, I know if I do that, my chances of success go way up. In fact, people who've traveled this path before me say my chances of success will be virtually guaranteed if I complete everything on my nightly checklist every day without fail.

I know that many leaders will warn against aiming for this kind of perfection. They will say you don't have to strive for perfection. And in general, I agree with them. When you're pursuing something that's not life-or-death, beating yourself for a lack of perfection can derail your efforts. You should aim for consistency, not perfection, when it comes to most things in life.

But what about when you're in an emergency or are stuck trying to get out of an especially critical sticky place? Maybe it can help to have clear, specific steps -- steps that are laid out simply on a checklist. Follow the steps, save yourself.

I'm going to try an experiment. For the next two weeks, I am going to treat my nightly checklist as a pilot might treat an emergency checklist.

For the next two weeks, I am Sully Sullenberger trying to bring my airplane back to a safe place.

Day 17 of my Reboot: The Joy of Abstinence

My mind today keeps pondering over something a fellow food addict said to me once, "Nothing brings me joy the way food does."

This idea keeps coming up in my mind over and over again. That food is not just a shortcut to joy and happiness, but is the only pathway to happiness.

If life is a pendulum --  you can't experience true peace without knowing trauma, you can't feel joy without knowing what pain is -- then maybe I have been putting food too much on the "happy" side of the pendulum. Maybe I need someway to convince myself that food belongs in the negative category. That it is in abstinence that I find joy, not in overeating.

In that vein, here is a portrait of me when I am stuck in over-eating:

The "Before" Me, Where Eating Equals Pain

I am deeply embarrassed by my inability to control my eating. Empty wrappers and containers litter my car, hidden from my family do they won't know how much I'm eating. I worry all the time that my fat is straining against my clothes -- or that I won't be able to fit into the clothing I need for work. Headaches come all the time. My face looks bloated. My out-of-control eating behavior is increasing and I feel powerless to stop it. I hide my eating, I steal food from my husband's stash. I believe food is necessary to help me deal with uncomfortable feelings. I worry that I'll develop diabetes, dementia, Alzheimer's, high blood pressure, and heart disease. I am sick of not living up to my promises to stick to my no-sugar, no-flour food plan. I am sick of restarting this food plan over and over, only to fail again. I am sick of using food to escape my depression. I don't want to be that person.

and here's my vision of me transformed:

The "New" Me, Where Abstinence Equals Immense Joy

Every day, I wake up so proud of myself for abstaining from sugar and flour and feeling excited and energetic about making my life the best it can be. I am grateful for the lessons I learned in solving my food issues and passionate about creating the life I've always dreamed about -- one where I am confident, trust myself, and handle challenges with ease. I am full of life, love, and energy. I radiate as bright as the sun. I am strong, slim, and self-confident. The more I fuel my body with healthful things, the more alive I become. Living without sugar and flour is just so much more joyful. If I am feeling down and need a jolt of joy, a walk in the woods or a warm bath with scented candles and a good book soothe me better than food ever did. I am immensely grateful for all my relapses for the learning and beautiful gifts they gave me. I am so proud of myself.

OK, these feel really corny.

But they also feel really true.

I do wake up the morning after a binge feeling bloated, headachy and lethargic. And I do wake up on abstinent mornings feeling energetic and rested. I might have gotten the same 7 hours of sleep or whatever, but abstinent me is joyful. This is a pretty powerful brain shift.

If I can hold these images in my head, maybe they can help me rewire my brain to place abstinence in the "joy" category permanently.

Day 7: The Unexpected Gifts of Relapse

Relapsing frequently can be enormously frustrating and heart-rending and depressing. It feels like you’re on a road trying to get somewhere, but all you keep doing is making U-turn after U-turn and never getting anywhere.

And. And it can also be incredibly educational. When you’re paying attention to why you relapse, you get the gift of understanding what causes you to relapse. And that’s the best way to prevent it.

So as one part of my current resume, I’m trying to take a more preventative approach. What happens right before I relapse?

Well, looking over everything I’ve journaled about during relapses, it’s pretty clear that one of the following likely has happened:

— I’m tired. When I’m not getting 7 to 8 hours of sleep a night, I feel tired all day. It lowers my coping abilities. Little things get magnified. Things that normally would roll off my back — an irritating co-worker, unexpected traffic, my dog misbehaving — suddenly seem much more stressful.

— I’ve overloaded my calendar. Typically, I aim for no more than two big “things” every day. It could be two work things — giving two public speeches. It could be one work thing and one family thing — a public speech and then dinner with my husband. But it’s when I try to do three things that the going gets tough. When I try to do two public speeches and then dinner out, my stress level goes up and my willingness to break my abstinence increases.

— I’ve drifted from my abstinence check list. I’m not doing the things on my nightly checklist consistently. Maybe I skipped meditation or didn’t write three gratitudes. I didn’t feel like doing a daily reading. Whatever. My checklist isn’t complete.

— I haven’t planned ahead. I didn’t prepack my lunch or I decided to just wing it at the restaurant.

— I haven’t been keeping up with self-care. I haven’t been taking time every day to sit quietly with a cup of tea, take a warm bath, get myself an abstinent treat, or something like that. I haven’t taken time to appreciate and care for myself.

All of these things, really, are part and parcel of the same thing.

In all of these cases, a little something — a little lack of sleep or a little dip in keeping up with my checklist — turned into a snowball, which turned into a relapse.

So, turning it around, perhaps the best way to see a relapse coming and stop it dead in its tracks, is to watch out for the tiny little drifts away from your abstinent supports. A tiny little miss is the first sign that you might be on the path to a relapse.

It's Time for Me

Letter to myself:

Dear Me,

Yes, you can resume Bright Line Eating. Yes, you can reset back to day one. You can have another new day one. That's today.

But looking at the calendar for 2018, I'm noticing a trend. Initially, the length between breaks was pretty long -- months even. Remember when you went two months in 2017 with no breaks? Then it shortened to weeks. Then days. Lately just a day or two.

This means, as I'm sure you don't need someone to tell you, that things aren't working.

The tools you've been using -- they're great. Don't stop using them. Writing down your food, gratitudes, meditating, weighing your food, saying no to meals at banquets, saying no to anything that doesn't serve you. All great. Keep doing them.

And you need to do more. You need more tools. You just haven't found the right mix of tools that work for you. This a very personal journey and no two people are going to benefit from the same mix of tools.

So. Let's reset to day one. And let's layer on tools. Like layers on blankets when the weather is frosty. You need to find the right combinations to layers to give you the support and comfort you need.

I love you. This journey is hard as hell. But you can do it. Many others have and there is no reason why you can't as well.

Write to me tomorrow and tell me the toolbox you plan to use for the next 60 days.

With greatest love,

Me

SeptemBLE Day 10 (Not Day 9)

Ok, true confessions. I bobbled a bit on Sunday.

And I didn't even hesitate. I knew I was feeling weak. Knew there were potato chips in the pantry. Deliberately went to the pantry, got them out and ate them. A lot of them.

There's no real question why. My husband and I adopted two pugs this weekend. Due to his prior commitments, my husband couldn't make the 4.5-hour drive with me to get them. The rescue group was lovely, but very uncommunicative so I had little idea what was going on and had to just go with the flow. The pugs are lovely little guys, but they were quite understandably stressed out and anxious. They woke up every 2-3 hours their first night.

So on Sunday I was tired, stressed out, and weak. Food helped, unfortunately.

But here's the really critical thing. I am not going to go back and start counting again on Day One.

I don't "reset" anymore every time I have a wobble. Because if I did, it would imply I'm back to Day One of doing Bright Line Eating (BLE). And I'm not.

Every single day of this journey I've learned something. For this particular break, I learned to pay close attention to my sleep patterns, which are major signals of an upcoming relapse.

What could I have done differently?

1) Insisted we work it out so that both hubby and I could travel to get the pups

2) Insisted, obnoxiously if necessary, on being informed of the plans so I wouldn't get anxiety over the not knowing

3) Trusted the history of the dogs' crate-training to know they'd be happier sleeping in their crate

4) Mentally prepared myself for the reality that moving to a new home is stressful for dogs. Logically, I knew this but I didn't really acknowledge it and brace myself for it.

These things are important boundary-setters. And boundaries are soooo important to my food journey.

So yesterday, September 10 was my TENTH day of the current resume. I'm not resetting to zero because I'm not at zero. Every day is a step in the right direction.

And as a follow-up, yesterday was a squeaky-clean awesomely bright BLE day.

Day five: underwhelm, underwhelm, underwhelm

Day five of my current resume completed. All four of my bright lines are shiny and bright.

And you know why? Because I had a day with no stress. Zero. Everything went easy-peasy. No bad traffic. No work stress. No phone calls or emails that got me riled up.

The house is clean. I wasn’t waiting anxiously for news about anything. It was just ... easy.

And I’m always surprised what a huge impact that has on my eating behavior. In these first early days of getting back on track, this is exactly what I need. To keep the stress levels low. Keep things easy. Don’t take on unnecessary issues. Do the minimum.

Ok, I know, that isn’t always possible. You can’t just stop you life. But you can cut back on anything inessential.

Belle Robertson of tiredofthinkingaboutdrinking.com puts it this way: “Strive for underwhelm.” She recommends that people aiming for alcohol sobriety do the minimum necessary. Don’t just enough at work so you don’t get fired. Eliminate invitations out. Order take-out for dinner. Go to bed at 7:30 if you need to. Strive for underwhelm.

The same applies to food recovery too. Treat yourself as if you are recovering from a really awful bout of the flu. Don’t say yes to invitations out unless you really, really have to. Eat at home as much as you can; restaurants can be too overwhelmingly tempting.

Pamper yourself with whatever you’ve got that’s healthy: hot baths, going to be really early, that special herbal tea you love.

Avoid overwhelm in whatever way you can. These early days of squeaky-clean lines are precious and deserve some pampering

A wobbly return and plans for a Super SeptemBLE

Oh man, do I ever need to remind myself how hard it is to resume! Really, really hard. Like, super hard.

Once the door to overeating is open, it feels like wolfie just leaps in and it's so so hard to stop.

So I'm going to do an experiment for September 2018.

I'm calling it my "Super Septemb-BLE" (the BLE meaning I'm aiming for a September of squeaky clean Bright Line Eating -- and if you don't know BLE, go Google it right now because it's amazing).

Here is the plan and my commitment to all of you that I will follow it:

Existing tools that I will continue to use:
-- Daily post either here on this blog or on social media
-- Daily reading of something spiritual or uplifting
-- Daily meditation of at least 10 minutes
-- 3 daily gratitudes in gratitude journal
-- Daily listening to an audio related to my recovery
-- Daily self-care practice (see list below)
-- Daily nightly checklist completion

New tools that I am adding in:

-- Find a BLE buddy or penpal

-- Sober Treats to mark significant accomplishment days because this thing is hard and I need to congratulation myself (big and bold items are bigger items for significant "milestone marker" days).

1 – Polish Pottery mug from eBay

2 – Hamsa hand keychain from Natural Life catalog

3 – Artful Home catalog item

4 – Bath Body Works scented hand soap

5 – white fluffy flowers

6 – take-out chicken schwarma

7 – Modcloth earrings

10 – Artful Home item

14 -- Massage

15 – Farmers Market run

20 – Thai food takeout

21 – Outfit from Title Nine

25 – Self-care day at spa

30 – Canvas beach wall art

[50 – Schedule 50^th birthday vacation]

 My aim is for the month of September, but if I go the entire 30 days with bright lines, I am going to extend it to 50 days.

SELF-CARE DAILY PRACTICE IDEAS

n  Take a bath

n  Go for a walk outside

n  Jam to a confidence song

n  Get a massage

n  Do a yoga video

n Get a pedicure

n  Get your eyebrows/lips done

n  Clean something out

n  Plan a vacation

n  Plan a knitting project

n  Watch a new Netflix show

n  Read a great book that’s not work-related

n  Attend a Soderworld (spa/meditation center) event

Overall: the goal for September is to aim for low-stress. Underwhelm. Say no to anything inessential and just focus on my sticking to my bright lines, eating well, and taking superior care of myself. 

Here we go … it's 10 a.m. on Sept. 1, 2018 as I write this, so the first four hours of my Super Septem-BLE are already done and under the belt. I have four hours of BLE momentum going. Let's make it 20 more and my first day of the month done!!

Inspirational image to guide this month:

AARRGGHHH Reset me to Day One

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGHHHHH.

It happened again.

Reset me to Day One. I relapsed big time. After vowing for the umpteenth time that I was done with this food addiction once and for all, I gave in. Over the past week, I have devoured:

-- A wood-fired pepperoni pizza that wasn't even that good but I ate because I haven't "gotten to" eat pizza for so long
-- A $7 package of butter cookies that are my favorite brand that I specifically went shopping at the store where they are sold so I could buy them (though I told myself I wouldn't)
-- 3/4 of a bag of tortilla chips that weren't even that good but I no longer have an off switch so I just ate until I was embarrassed at how much I'd eaten.
-- A "fun-size" bag of cheese crackers and a "fun-size" bag of chocolate chip cookies that I bought because they are portion-controlled. Then an entire box of Wheat Thins.

It feels like I'm just shoveling food in my mouth to make the feelings go away.

I give up. I can't deal with this sobriety thing on my own. I surrender to the plan. I surrender to my higher power.

I cannot have just one bite

I cannot have just one bite.

I cannot have just one bite.

My affirmation calendar today says, "Life is tough, my darling, but so are you."

So. How am I going to turn things around?

-- Blog here every day about my journey and not pretend to know all the answers. I've researched a lot and I have read a lot. The facts are not in questions. But I need to be honest about what I'm going through. I need to be accountable here.

-- I need to VIGOROUSLY pursue ways to comfort myself when I don't know what's wrong. I am currently make a list of things to do and I publicly vow here to do so.

-- I need a penpal to report to twice a day about my sobriety

-- I need to bookend every morning and every night honestly about what I'm eating and whether I'm successful. Honestly.

-- I need to use my tools on a daily basis and vigorously pursue my nightly checklist.

I am, in short, using the tools I've used in the past AND adding more tools to the list.

Committing here and now that today will be a sober and clean Bright Line Eating day.

Phew. Sigh. Big lump in my throat at the rawness and honestly.

Story Time: Life Seen Through an Empty Wrapper

It’s late at night and I’m sitting on my patio, looking at the moon, which is bright and very high. And the stars shimmering on the nearby pond. I should go inside and get some sleep. But before I do, I’m sitting here, finishing my tea and thinking. I’m thinking about you.

Yes, you. The one who is sitting on your patio, or in your living room, or at your kitchen table right now. Staring at an empty wrapper of something you just ate. Something you swore you would not eat today.

It’s not like you don’t know better. You know exactly what and how much you need to eat in order to lose your excess weight and free yourself from the demons of overweight and food obsession. Those demons you have been battling for years. You finally found a plan that works, and it worked beautifully. For a while.

Then somehow it didn’t work any more. You had an unusually stressful time at work. Or someone you dearly love passed away. Or it was a really, really, very special occasion. You just really wanted to celebrate or you just really needed to take the edge off.

Whatever it was, you decided to give yourself a little pass. Just for this once. You would go back to the plan right away, but on this one occasion you just really needed something.

So you had a little bit. And you went right back to the plan again.

Except that now the wolfie voice was awake again and whispering in your ear. You didn't know it was awake, but it was.

So in a short while, maybe a few days or maybe even a few weeks, you had a little more to eat off your plan. A bite here, a bit more there.

But really, still, you were going to go back to the plan, no question. But it would be tomorrow.

And then another tomorrow came and it happened again. You started the day with the best intentions but things happened and well, by evening you had veered off course again.

And then it happened again. What was going on? What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just resume successfully? You did it so well for a long time. For weeks and weeks, you were eating exactly according to plan and it wasn’t that hard. Why is it so hard now? Can’t you just Stop. Picking. Up. The. Food.

And maybe you even decided you needed to hide it. Can’t let anyone know you're eating uncontrollably again, after they have seen you do so well for so long. Maybe you hid a stash of goodies in the garage, or in an upper cabinet, or in your car, out of easy access. But in your heart, you know there's a good chance you'll go and get some, when the wolf voice is calling too loudly.

Maybe there are empty wrappers hidden in your car right now, so your spouse or your kids won’t know how much you’ve been eating in secret. Maybe you have stuffed wrappers into the bottom of your kitchen garbage can, so no one will find them.

And now, it's practically a daily thing. Every day, it’s the same. You wake up and vow to yourself that this is it. Today is the day you will resume your eating plan. For real this time. There is no way you are going to revert to old eating patterns. Not today.

But then life happens and you come home tired and it just feels like too much. So again you eat and now there’s an empty wrapper on the table.

You are not alone. I have been there. Dozens, hundreds, thousands have shared this experience.

This is what happens when wolfie takes over your brain. And it is absolutely, completely and unquestionably possible for you to resume successfully.

I want you to know that. I am sitting here right now because it was possible for me. And I never thought I'd be able to resume. If I can do it, and thousands of others can do it, why not you?

One way to start is by putting down the food right now.

Throw away that wrapper. Do the next right thing. Then do the next right thing. And then the next right thing. Keep doing the next right thing until you get where you want to go.

BLE Relapse Recovery Strategy: Course Correction High Intensity Protocol

When my bright lines were hopelessly broken and I was eating again at will -- whenever the urge struck me, and often endlessly throughout the day -- I started poking around in the Bright Lifers social media page for tools that might help.

In the files section, I stumbled upon an idea that turned out to be a lifesaver.

The original document was titled "Nili's Course Correction High Intensity Protocol." I haven't been able to track down Nili to thank her for this. It saved my program several times. It saved me.

The concept builds, I think, on the idea that if committing to a full day of Bright Line Eating feels too daunting, then just commit to doing an hour. An hour is a lot easier to get through. An hour feels manageable.

And you can track it. Simply to make a chart with the days of the week listed across the time, and every hour of the day down the side.

You fill in "Bright Line Meal" at your regular meal times. And for every other hour of the day you write "No food at all."

Here's what my version looks like, based closely on Nili's original:

Print out a copy and carry it with you all day. Every time you successfully complete an hour's assigned task, put a big X in that hour's column.

After a while, I found myself spurred to get to the end of a day with a full row of X's in that day's column. I even used a bold red felt-tip marker to make my X's. It felt soooo good to have a full column of bright red X's. Having a full week of bright red X's was magical!

If your bright lines have broken and seem beyond repair, using a CCHIP chart might help.

[If you want a copy to print, you can find Nili's on the Bright Lifers Facebook group's "files" section, or message me and I can send you mine in Microsoft Word.]

[Disclaimer: I am not officially affiliated with Bright Line Eating and the ideas expressed here are my own.]

When you’re afraid to resume BLE because you’re afraid to fail again

One of the biggest struggles I have faced in Bright Line Eating is how to resume after breaking my bright lines repeatedly. How do you get your bright lines back after you’ve broken them ... again and again and again.

And in the back of my brain was always the niggling thought, “What if I break my lines again? What if I fail again?”

For me, this usually quickly escalated into “I fail everything.” “Of course I’m going to fail again.” “Why should this be any different?”

So the other day, I sat down for a good chat with myself. I decided to do what I've read is good for when obsessive thoughts start wandering around in your brain. I challenged myself to turn those thoughts around.

Sure, I'm afraid of breaking my bright lines again. But that doesn’t mean this fear is a bad thing.

It’s perfectly OK - it could even be good -- to be nervous about trying again. That just means I know Bright Line Eating is a good idea. I know this is what I want.

For another, it means I know that overcoming food issues will be tough. I don’t think it’s going to be a breeze. That'll be helpful when a craving or challenge strikes.

And there will be cravings and there will be challenges. I know I’ll get stressed and want to eat. I know I’ll want to eat. These things are going to happen. That's just life. It's OK and it's not an excuse to break my bright lines.

And that means I can take the next step. I'm not doing BLE because I think I'll never be hungry and have cravings and want to eat like crazy again. I'm doing it because I don’t want all the crappy things that come with eating addictively — the constant thinking about food, the headaches, the low energy, the pasty skin, the obesity, the not being able to go on roller coaster rides, the needing seatbelt extenders on airplanes, the diabetes, the losing everything.

And you know what, it worked. I'm not so nervous about making resuming BLE again. As always, when I break my bright lines, I learn from the experience, pick myself up and start all over again.

Relapse sucks and it's great if it never happens. But fear of relapse isn’t bad. You can learn a lot if you sit down and listen to your fears.

The unique struggle of starting BLE from a smaller number

Bright Line Eating recently added special interest groups and I'm thrilled. Hooray! A way to make the big Bright Lifers facebook group seem smaller and less intimidating. A way to connect with people who share your struggles.

And ... there was no group for me.

Sigh.

I was hoping there might be a group for people who have relapsed repeatedly (yeah, that would be me). Or introverts who avoid phone calls the way vampires avoid the sun (also me).

Or ... for people who began with smaller numbers.

Now, that last statement might make you pause. Aren't the people coming from larger weights the ones who need Bright Line Eating most? Isn't their weight often a serious health issue? Even a life-and-death situation?

Yes. Yes. And yes.

And.

And I am convinced that people who begin the program at lower weights have unique struggles and challenges. I don't say worse. Not bigger. Not more important. But unique and absolutely challenging struggles.

I've been thinking about this a lot ever since I read somewhere that some members of Overeaters Anonymous feel resentful of people who come into meetings and don't look obese. That broke my heart, because my fight with food (and I bet many others' fight) has been decades-long and immensely painful, even though you might not see it as clearly on the outside.

So here's my attempt to address the issues, for those curious about why people who struggle with food addiction but don't have huge weight problems have unique challenges:

1. It's easy for us to tell ourselves "it's not that bad. I don't need to address my food issues."

I've been a food addict for at least 39 years, going back to the days when I hid candy in my childhood puppet theater and sometimes bought two ice cream cones pretending one was for a friend, even though I planned to eat them both. I once bought a box of cake mix so I could eat the whole thing out of the box. In high school, I never ever ever wore pants without a long sweater or tunic over it, to hide the "enormous" size of my butt (I wore a size 12 at the time). Food issues tortured me through high school, college, graduate school, my early career. Years and years.

Still, with restriction and deprivation, I managed to keep my weight in the "overweight" category. At my heaviest, I wore a size 18 on my 5'7" frame — very upper limit of overweight-but-not-obese. But thoughts of food consumed me. It was my best friend, my go-to resource, my constant companion. I hid food from my roommates so they wouldn’t eat it. I panicked if the kitchen didn’t have enough sugary treats in it. I carefully planned trips according to what I could eat on the road.

But when you're not obese, it's easy to tell yourself that your problems just aren't that bad. If you really had a problem with food, you'd be heavier. You're not, so you must be someone who just really really really likes food.

So committing to any food recovery or weight-loss plan was incredibly difficult for me. It was so tempting to quit when it got hard. I would look at people who were obese and reassure myself that I was not as bad as them. They had a problem, but clearly I didn’t.

Except, of course, I really did.

2. Since we're not as heavy as other people, it's easy to make little exceptions that lead to big falls.

I relapsed about 2 weeks after my first Bright Line Eating bootcamp ended.

Yep. Two weeks.

It was Christmas. All my favorite treats were around. I told myself, "hey, I did this thing successfully for 8 weeks. I did great and after all, I'm not as heavy as some of the other people in bootcamp were when we all started. I afford to make one exception. I don't have all that much weight left to lose. Besides, these goodies were made by my niece, who I adore. It would hurt her feelings if I didn’t eat at least one. I can afford to have just one."

So I did. That "just one" led to a string of bright-line breaks, which led to 18 months of heart-breaking, challenging, unsuccessful attempts to resume Bright Line Eating. Eighteen. Months.

Actually, I'd told myself all through Boot Camp that my issues weren't as bad as some others. I hadn't even started Bright Line Eating in order to lose weight. I didn't mind the idea of losing weight, but I'd be OK if I stayed where I was (at the time, at 181 pounds).

So I'd made some little exceptions right from the beginning. Kept the won-ton strips on my Asian salad. Ate some popcorn a few nights when the hunger was really bad. Had a piece of bread in a restaurant if it was a special occasion.

Not surprising, others in my Boot Camp House hung on to their bright lines afterwards for much, much longer. Whenever I poked into Facebook houses, they were talking how they still had squeaky-clean bright lines 10, 25, 50 weeks after boot camp ended. I read the stories of how they'd lost 30 pounds, 50 pounds, 70 pounds. They were wearing smaller clothes and posting photos of huge celebrations.

And there I was, stuck, not moving down any further than my initial 17-pound loss, consumed by my addictive food voice, unable to lose any more and completely unable to resume successfully.

3. It’s easy to feel guilty for being in a weight-loss program, like you’re doing it for selfish and vain reasons, rather than addressing a serious food issue.

One of the first Bright Line Eaters I met in person, rather than virtually, said to me, not long after we met, "Oh, you're in maintenance, right?"

At the time, my BMI put me still in the "over-weight" category. Not even close to the weight goal of 140 I’d set for myself. Miles away from the goal weight of 120-130 for the French plan Susan Peirce Thompson described in Boot Camp.

I felt like a loser, so miserable since I was having so much trouble resuming Bright Line Eating. Her sweet comment, clearly intended as a nice complement, should have made feel proud to be where I was.

Instead it made me feel selfish and vain. Why did I think I even needed to keep doing this food plan? Clearly, I looked fine to others. Was I just wanting to get a handle on my food for vanity's sake, so I could wear skinny jeans and look like a model? It felt like I didn't have a right to want this -- I just needed to get over my vanity and accept my body where it was.

Final Thoughts

Again, I don’t say that food-recovery issues for a person beginning at a smaller number are worse or larger or more painful than for others. But I do say that there are struggles and they are unique struggles.

My particular struggles with relapsing over and over have a lot to do with these challenges.

So in a variation of what Susan Peirce Thompson says about the temptation to monitor what others are eating — I say, when it comes to how much weight a person does or does not have to lose, I really have to keep my eyes on my own plate, not compare myself to others, and remember why I'm on this journey.

[Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Bright Line Eating or Susan Peirce Thompson. The ideas expressed here are my own.]

Operation Resume Day Three: I’m renaming my saboteur

Day three treat: scented hand soap

I finished day three with squeaky clean bright lines. Three days of food sobriety. And it feels good.

And oh boy howdy, was my saboteur howling at night. After dinner, I was home (a rarity for me — more often than not, I have a presentation booked for after dinner). 

The whole night, this nagging, complaining, never-letting-up voice was telling me it had to eat. Right now. Arrrgh.

And that got me thinking. I never know what to call that voice in my head that tells me to eat. “Saboteur” feels elegant and fancy-schmancy French, and my voice is more evil than that. "Sabby" sounds cute. “Addictive voice” feels abstract and not quite real. 

That voice in my head is not elegant or French or cute or abstract. It’s loud and persistent and nagging.

So I’m renaming it, using a brilliant idea suggested on the sober blog tiredofthinkingaboutdrinking.com. 

Belle Robertson, creator of that blog, calls her addictive voice ...  “Wolfie.” To me, that is perfect. Not only because it matches the nasty, loud side of that voice but because of the inspiring Cherokee legend that inspired it. 

Here’s a great version of the legend from the website of Dean Deyeong: 

“An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life:

‘A fight is going on inside me,’ he said to the boy.

‘It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.’

He continued, ‘The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you–and inside every other person, too.’

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: ‘Which wolf will win?’

The old Cherokee simply replied, ‘The one you feed.’”

[You can read Dean Deyeong’s version HERE ]

That’s exactly what my brain is when it’s in full food-addiction mode. It’s an angry, evil wolf. And it’s fighting the warm, nurturing side of me. I have to avoid feeding the angry wolfie — I have to avoid focusing on the thoughts it give me. I instead need to nurture and cherish the loving, kind, healthy, self-caring, non-addicitive wolf.

So I’m following Belle’s suggestion and calling my addictive brain “Wolfie.”

[You can find her blog at tiredofthinkingaboutdrinking.com . You can even get one of her badass “FU Wolfie” bracelets. (I have no affiliation with her, just love her ideas).]

Why day two is the hardest day of a BLE resume

Day two treat: car wash

Operation Resume: I finished my day 2 with squeaky clean bright lines. But wow, it was tough.

Day two, I’m realizing, is the hardest day of a resume for me. On day 1, I’m filled with enthusiasm and excitement. I’m doing this! I’m on! Let’s go!

But on day 2, the buzz has worn off a little bit. My brain has kicked in, realizing it didn’t get its “fix” yesterday. It starts telling me that I can just give in a little. It’s early in the journey. Just give in today and start the resume again tomorrow. Make tomorrow my day 1 — I won’t have lost any time.

I found myself yesterday at a banquet luncheon, waiting to begin my presentation. The lunch was served late and took forever. I wasn’t eating with everyone so that wasn’t a problem, but I was waiting for a long time. And I knew I had an evening program to get to next, in a town about 90 minutes away. My stress started to rise.

And — There was a table filled with delicious goodies. Right. There. By. Me. Super-easy to just swipe a few. No one would notice. I deserve it for having to wait so long. I’ll just start my resume all over tomorrow.

The struggle was real.

So here’s what I did:

1) I told myself that I never ever ever want to have another day 2 of BLE again. Day 2 sucks and I don’t ever want to do it again. Knowing I would have to document it here (admit it here) helped.

2) I moved away from the table, repeating the mantras, “that is poison to me” and “one bite means a hundred bites.” I focused on how I feel when I have binged out and reminded myself that lately I have been unable to do just a bite. It’s always a binge and it feels horrible horrible horrible.

3) I have committed to eat only meals I have prepared and brought with me for the next 23 days. I can do 23 days. It’s less than a month. These goodies will still exist after that. I can reassess after that.

4) I reminded myself that I have left extra time for travel. I set up 3 hours for my 90-minute drive. There was a big ole cushion. Even if the luncheon ran an hour late, I’m still OK.

And you know what? It was fine. I got through the struggle. I didn’t eat. Both of my presentations went well. I ate only the prepped and weighed food I’d packed and brought with me.

So on to day 3! I’ve got a two-day streak going now. Time to make it a 3-day streak.

[Disclaimer: I am not officially affiliated with Bright Line Eating Solutions or Susan Peirce Thompson. The opinions on this blog are my own.]

Operation Resume: Day One

I finished the first day of my Bright Line Eating resume with squeaky-clean bright lines. Woo hoo!

Trust me, I know enough now to know what an achievement that is.

Treat for a clean day one: A cup of real Starbucks coffee. OK, yes, it's a vice, but it's also been very hard for me to give up everything at once. I do much better when I ease out of things, gradually removing vices rather than going cold turkey all at once on everything. I think that's why I had such a hard time with Bright Line Eating in the bootcamp: giving up sugar AND flour AND snacks AND unlimited quantities AND alcohol AND coffee. It was too much and I felt overwhelmed and very stressed. So I'm still saving the coffee detox to when I get my sugar/flour/snack life cleaned up.

The treats, though, those are non-negotiable. I get myself a treat every day for the first 14 days that my bright lines are clean. After that, maybe every 2 days or whenever I get through a tough situation like a birthday party or a dinner with strangers. I wrote about the importance of BLE treats for me and the kinds of things I use HERE.

And as I get my treat, I specifically say to myself, "This is my treat for keeping my bright lines yesterday, because this stuff is hard and I am rocking it."

No idea why this works, but it does. As long as I remember to say that to myself.

My sometimes-not-too-smart brain responds well when I reward it for doing something hard.

And it helps me to remember that keeping bright lines is hard work. And that there are endless ways to reward myself that have nothing to do with food. Win, win, and win.

[Disclaimer: This site is not affiliated with Bright Line Eating Solutions or Susan Peirce Thompson. The ideas and opinions here my own.]

Operation Resume: What I’m Doing to Recover from a Relapse

Yep. It happened again. I relapsed this weekend. Ate a lot. I was tired, stressed, annoyed that I was working so hard and not losing as much weight as I wanted to.

Sigh.

But one of the things I’ve learned on this journey is that you. Do. Not. Stop. Other people have recovered and gotten where they want to go. So I’m mixing up my toolkit, recommitting and starting over.

Here’s my plan. And my commitment to keep it:

1) Add in new tool. 

Whenever I resume, I have to try different, not try harder. So I’m adding a new tool to my daily practice.

The new tool this time is a daily self-care practice. This will often take a time commitment but poor self-care is the number one thing that causes me to fall. Self-care = do a yoga routine, take a nap, sit outside with a cup of tea, take a bath, sing and dance along to an upbeat song, get a massage, get a pedicure, do a face mask.

(My other current tools: meditate daily, read something inspirational, listen to at least one sober-eating podcast or vlog, write in my gratitude journal, post at least once on this blog or on social media, stick to each of my four food plan goals — no sugar, no flour, 3 meals only, weigh all food.)

I've also signed up for another Bright Line Eating 14-day challenge.

I'm also, gulp, adding in a no-nuts rule. Nuts seem to stall my weight loss. And they trigger me. Dang it.

2) Surrender fully.

I’d convinced myself long ago that sugar is a no-go. One bite is never enough. One bite means a thousand bites. But I’ve always had trouble fully surrendering to my no-flour rule. No more. I surrender. No croutons on my salad. No beer or wine if it’s a special occasion.

I'm following the food plan laid out in Susan Peirce Thompson's Bright Line Eating plan.

3) Set a short-term time commitment.

On June 16, I leave for a festival in South Carolina. So that gives me a nice time frame. It’s 23 days between today and then. I’ll keep to my food plan (no sugar, no flour, 3 measured meals a day) for the next 23 days.

My brain has an easier time accepting surrender when it’s just for a temporary time frame. I’m not saying I WILL go back to croutons and beer (or anything else), I’m just saying that for the next 23 days, I’m sticking to the plan. I can do a complete surrender for 23 days. I’ll reassess after that.

I’m going to futureme.org right now and setting up a letter that will be delivered to me in 23 days giving me wild, crazy congratulations for doing this.

Day One of Operation Resume begins today!

I've tried so many times and failed, why should I try again?

About 14 months into my fight to successfully resume Bright Line Eating, things got really depressing.

Every time I decided that this was IT, today would be the day I resumed, every time I printed out a new 100-day chart, posted a commitment in social media, joined with a friend to do a 60-day challenge, that annoying little voice in my head would begin:

"You’ve tried this so many times and failed, why do you think you’ll succeed now?"

"This will be just like the last time: a few days with squeaky-clean bright lines and then more bright lines broken."

"With all these failures, how can you trust yourself or this program anymore?"

Today I’m challenging myself to answer that voice. I want some ammunition to toss at that dang voice to make it shut up. Here goes:

n  Sure, I could fail again. But then again, I could succeed. I’ve failed at other things before I succeeded. Maybe this is just like that.

n  Don’t statistics show that people who quit smoking often make multiple attempts before succeeding? Maybe my food journey will be similar. (I wrote about this on another blog post HERE.)

n  Nothing really valuable in life comes easy. Remember going to college? Creating a strong marriage? Building a successful business? Giving up diet soda? Work, work, and more work. But in every case, the work was absolutely worth it, and I succeeded eventually. I've succeeded before, which shows I'm capable of succeeding.

n  I just need to figure out what will work for me in getting my lines bright. Trying again is exactly what I need to do to learn what’s needed to stay on track. If something in my BLE toolbox needs to change, I can change it.

n  I give in now, and decide I’m going to fail, that’s just what will happen. If I claim defeat, I’ll be defeated.

It might take you 5 or 8 or 25 failures – or more – but if you’re not willing to risk failure, you’ll never get to success.

Henry Ford said it really well: “If you think you can, or you think you can’t, you’re always right.”

[Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Bright Line Eating or Susan Peirce Thompson. The opinions expressed in this blog are entirely my own.]

My Three Biggest Fears About Giving Up Sugar and Flour: Fear #3

FEAR #3. I’M AFRAID OF FAILING.

In my first Bright Line Eating bootcamp, I went 8 weeks without breaking a bright line. And I was terrified the whole time. 

Not terrified that this might not work for me in helping me lose weight. I was terrified that if I broke a single bright line, I would be screwed. It would be impossible to resume. As soon as a single line broke, I’d be worse off.

And of course I did break a line. It was a special occasion. I was over-confident in my sparkling new “strength” and imagined I would just eat a treat “this one night” and then I’d get right back on course. 

And of course I didn’t get right back on course. I was a OK for a day or two and then broke again. And then again. Within a month, I found myself wandering the aisles of the grocery deciding how much NMF I could stuff myself with.

I went 18 months (yes, you read that right, 18 months) resuming and re-breaking, resuming and rebreaking, over and over and over. 

Resuming BLE after a relapse is scary. I couldn’t help but worry “what if” and I was startled at the quantity of food I could put away now. I’ve never been a binger, but my ‘you’ve eaten too much, stop eating and go do something’ button was now gone.

A month into my most recent sobriety, I hit a major holiday and told my husband I was terrified about it. He said to me, “So what? You’ve failed before and there’s always a chance you’ll fail again. You want this.”

He was totally correct. I wanted this. More than anything I’ve ever wanted, I want to be free of my food obsession. And the only thing I had to fear about this upcoming holiday – was fearing this holiday. If I failed, well by golly I’ll just try again. And again. And again. There are people who take 8-9 years of going to AA before sobriety clicks in. If that’s what it takes for me, well, that’s what it will take. There is no way I’m going back to the person I was before. No way am I going to forget how amazing it feels to be sober – to be happy, thin and free.

Failing just means I had the guts to try BLE in the first place. And therefore, I’ve got the guts to try it again.

Failure is always possible. But success is built on failure. If you do a “permission to be human” worksheet, learn from it, talk about it, make a WOOT for what to do next time. If you really want what is on the other side of a crappy relationship with food, then you have learned. You tried … and you learned. The only real failure is not trying in the first place.

Remember Winston Churchill said, “Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”

BLE momentum is hard to achieve. Don’t mess with it.

I’ve been trying to regain my Bright Line Eating momentum since January 2017 (it’s March 2018 as I write this). Lately, I’ve realized there are two tiny things my brain says to get me to break my bright lines:

(1) “Doing BLE has been easy in the past. It’ll be easy to pick it up again.”

(2) “You’ve resumed before. You’ll just resume again.”

False. False. And false. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in trying to resume, it is that it is terrifically hard to resume. It is NOT easy to pick it up again. It is NOT easy to just resume.


Which leads me back to one of my fundamental beliefs about BLE. If you’ve got some BLE momentum going, don’t mess with it.

Whatever you do, don't mess with it.

If you’ve got 2 days of squeaky clean bright lines, don’t mess with what you're doing. Keep going. If you’ve got 7 days of squeaky clean bright lines, don’t mess with it. Keep going. If you’ve got 100 days of squeaky clean bright lines, don’t mess with it.

BLE momentum is an amazing achievement. Be proud of it, bask in it, and for goodness sake, don't change what you're doing.

Resuming is much, much more difficult than you might imagine. It’s MUCH easier to just keep going than it is to resume.

Don’t mess with BLE momentum.

Disclaimer: This site is not officially affiliated with Bright Line Eating or Susan Peirce Thompson. The opinions expressed here are entirely my own.

Don't Mess With BLE Momentum

By far the most painful lesson I've had to learn in BLE is that I can't mess with sober momentum (I use the word "sober" to mean "day when I have squeaky-clean bright lines" because it's a faster, more elegant way to saying it. For me, having bright lines is my sobriety).

Why, why, why is my brain so hard-wired to believe I can just step on/step off the sober bus. Even when all the BLE guidelines and bootcamp videos and counselors say, "it is much harder to resume than to just keep going." My brain just doesn't want to believe it.

My brain keeps saying, "But you did it before, you just resumed, so you can do it again." Or, "BLE was easy for weeks and weeks, it'll be easy to just start again."

No. Nope. Not at all.

Resuming is much more difficult than beginning. Resuming is much, much, much more difficult than just continuing. And a new day one sucks to get through.

So whatever tools you are using that are making BLE work for you, keep doing them. Don't stop. Keep the momentum going.

Don't mess with momentum.

Disclaimer: This blog and I are not officially affiliated with Bright Line Eating or Susan Peirce Thompson. The opinions expressed here are entirely my own.