As you can see, I have a new book published...SKINNY ZEN. What fun that has been! A great place to link to is www.facebook.com/skinnyzen
Here is a nice sampling of what you'll find:
Who am I to tell you how to Diet?
In high school I was the ‘skinny girl’ at 5’ 6” 103 pounds, small/medium build. I've gained weight in stealth mode, (you know how subtle it is), until a few days ago I topped out at 159 pounds. (160 pounds has been staved off at gunpoint).
It was a non-option. Then and there I decided to add the lethal word ‘diet’ to my vocabulary. Gone were the dating days of my lovely twenties when I’d TRY to gain weight. For years I heard how skinny I was, and ‘why don’t you put some meat on those bones’. (This back in the day when voluptuous was trending.) I was NOT curvy, I was...let’s say...willowy. (That’s very kind).
I’m not a physician or nutritionist. I’m more of an accountant and an author. Jan Holmes Frost, LLU (Live and Learn University).
Back in the day, when I gave birth to two sons, over 8 pounds each, I returned to that amazing figure of 103 lbs. Eight years later came my daughter (today a six-foot tall, body building, kick-ass force who successfully completed her first Tough Mudder). After her birth, I stayed at a solid 106 pounds. A hysterectomy at age forty-four changed this wonderfulness skinniness, until I stood with a sledge-hammer, poised over the scales that lied. What?
Thus began my weight loss regime, including ready-to-eat meals, personal trainer, Kumbaya gatherings, 12-step motivational rah-rah rallies, and books. Books! Do we not have enough missives available worldwide covering this subject, written by people with a string of letters to the right of their name, from celebrities, and beyond? And here I am, yours truly, having a go at bringing weight-loss enlightenment into your life. Really?
I’m maybe 20 - 40 pounds overweight depending on whose analysis you adhere to.
Recently, while talking on the phone with my kick-ass red-headed daughter, I said,
"I give up. I’m too damned old to diet." (My mom said that when she was about age 65).
To prove my point, I main-lined Rocky Road ice cream for two days. Immersed in my weight-management suicide, I put away three hearty meals per day, added arbitrary desserts and snacks, and frequented all-you-can-eat restaurants. Then, comparable to hang-gliding from a 3,000 foot cliff into a pile of boulders, I challenged myself with a super over-the-top killer greasy spoon throw-back 60’s diner that served me a tall strawberry milk shake topped with whipped cream and a cherry. My waitress said,
"Here you go, dearie, and you get the rest of your shake in this nice cold metal container." (Remember those?)
Then she served me a stacked double bacon cheeseburger on a triple grilled bun, along with cholesterol infused fries, followed by a platter of onion rings shimmering in yellow fat. Yum!
My tummy proceeded to take on odd lumpy shapes, and I gained 7 pounds in one week of gluttony.
So, back to my daughter. This is what I told her:
“I swear, I get up every morning and weigh in. I have a very reliable digital scale in my bathroom. I get naked…”
(She interrupts here to tell me, TMI).
“…before I’ve taken a single medication, or allowed a drop of coffee upon my lips, I count the pounds. I’ll take out my dentures if that helps,” I say.
There I am standing on the very same evil scales, cell phone to my ear, and I swear, it does not drop below the 166 mark.
"In one week I’ve raised the number 159 by 7 pounds,” I conclude, heaving a sigh.
My wise daughter is quiet.
“Now what do I do?”
"You’re asking me? You wouldn’t like my answer. And I doubt you can lift over 50 pounds, anyway.”
“I just won’t eat.”
"Way to go, Mom. Let me know how that works for you.”
“Fine, I know, I know.”
Dead air on our cell phones.
“Well, I gotta get busy. I have plenty of writing and editing to do." (I write fiction.)
“Good idea, Mom. Go write about dieting.”
Bless her heart … here I am!
The Skinny Zen book …
What a unique concept. Right?