The End: An Interpretation

I've loved all the wrap-up posts that have gone before, but as I hit the end of my personal PCP and tried to think of what to say, the whole idea suddenly became absurd. Still processing what it's meant, what will happen going forward. But the end of these 90 days must be marked, and perhaps the act of trying to do a wrap up will produce something worthwhile.

All my gratitude to my fellow PCPers--those who went before and whose honesty inspired me to try it to; Stu, Nathaly, and Ramiro, who shared the experience with me; and the new teams who are coming up fast and looking fine. Thank you, Patrick, for everything--patience, encouragement, and the project itself.

The Good Stuff

Before.......................................................After

Days: 90
Workouts: 90
Workouts At Night: 3
Days Off Grams: 4, due to vacation
Pounds Lost: 30
Clothing Sizes Dropped: 3
Minutes Spent Cooking, Boring Meals Eaten, Dishes Washed: countless

The pants to one of my suits. They shrank this much by the middle of the project,
I had them tailored to fit again, and then it happened again.
The second photo is an example of elephant butt.

The Bad Stuff

I've made great progress and found my face again (hello, cheekbones!). But there's still that spare tire around my middle, and the wobbly bits at the inner thighs and under arms. It's good to celebrate the end of an extended exercise in willpower, but also annoying. This doesn't feel like a triumphant finish, because I'm still so far from my goals.

Spent some time trying on the clothes I've been hauling around the world because it's been easier to let the moving services pack and unpack them than to weed. Many of my old favorites are too small--within reach, but too small. This means that I have clothes that are way too big, and clothes that are about a month or two away from fitting, depending on how hard I work, and nothing to wear right now. Guess it's time to invest a little money on temporary holding clothes.

The Lesson Learned

What I wanted from the PCP, aside from weight loss/muscle gain, was daily experience in incorporating healthy, home-cooked food into my life. I started as a special-occasion cook, someone who only liked to be in the kitchen as a hobby and thought of everyday food as something you grabbed takeaway, delivery, microwaveable. There were more days than you might imagine possible when a giant bowl of popcorn covered in butter and cheese was my main meal of the day--my own version of the salt-fat overload in manufactured foodlike products, consumed mostly as something to crunch while reading. Meanwhile, trying to plan meals for a whole week and buy all the ingredients for them at once felt exhausting and difficult.

What did I have for dinner last night?

A piece of toast, spread with half an avocado, topped with a sliced tomato and a chicken breast.

I did salt the chicken, and add a luxurious small pat of butter to the cooking oil, but it was healthy and tasty and fast. This is much better everyday food, and the months of practice mean that my steps in making it were swift, economical, practical, efficient.

How do I grocery shop now? Exactly as I should, with the added knowledge that I no longer forget vegetables until they mold. They're an essential part of every meal. And fruit has somehow stepped out of the shadows. It used to feel like too much trouble to wash, slice, get up and grab from the fridge. Now it's a source of pleasure so strong that I still have no urge to seek out dessert.

How do I keep my energy up now? Instead of tea midmorning and soda midafternoon, which used to feel like unbreakable rituals making the workday possible, it's small snacks. They're light, quick, flavorful hits of fruit or yogurt that keep me alert and moving.

The crazy thing, which ties into Patrick's most recent blog post, is that none of this is new or earth-shattering. They're all the most basic of commonsense ideas. But it took three months of unbreakable fidelity to external rules to learn experientially that they work, and that they're actually easier than the alternatives.

It turns out my husband was right all along about working out at home and jumping rope. He's been trying since 2007 to get me to jump--I even tried once to get into a routine, but the tripping pissed me off after several tries and I didn't persevere. It's been clear for a while now that I am a minimalist in working out, and this kind of exercise suits my schedule and level of interest. Although I'll never force myself to do it every single day, no exceptions, again. Anyone else zone out a bit while jumping and then, when the round has stopped, think more consciously about what passed through over those minutes? At the end of my first set on day 88, I was horrified to discover that I'd been contemplating the best way to land so as to hurt or break my ankle and get out of the rest of the day's jumps. They weren't painful, I wasn't tripping, there was nothing wrong except that I just didn't want to be doing them. At least one rest day a week, for mental health.

The Future

The question everyone asks now, including me, is what next?

Probably 40-minute workouts daily, half jump rope, half muscle. Probably my familiar PCP breakfast of oatmeal, carrots, egg, and milk, and the same morning, afternoon, and evening snacks (but I'll spoon the yogurt straight out of the container and eat whole fruits instead of cutting and weighing them). Probably half or more lunches and dinners a week cooked at home. Probably a single beer, glass of wine, or post-meal scotch once or twice a week.

Lots of hiking. Maybe I'll pick up the squash racket again. More collaborative cooking with my husband and less selfishness--he's been generous in making do, so I had enough food for lunches and the occasional night off, but he more than deserves to be eating as well as I do.

(Today's hike--we'd already climbed one hill, and then had to go all the way down
just to climb up again over the Twins in the middle of the frame. The views were amazing.
My legs were stronger than ever, though I still flagged on the second and third ascents.)

It's a journey. This three-month rocket burn has accelerated my fitness, I hope to achieve escape velocity from the old, bad habits. We'll see.