Wanna really get to know someone?  Watch them at an airport. Burbank to Vegas yesterday.  There were literally seven people needing wheelchair assistance.  I was there super early, camped out as close to the door leading out to the tarmac as I could get without being escorted off premises by airport security.  I watched as one by one, the wheelchairs rolled into the pre-board area.  And there we waited, the anal-retentive early bird and seven people in wheelchairs, for a little over an hour. And then, two minutes before boarding is scheduled to begin, two couples walk up from out of nowhere ("walking" being the operative word) and cut in front of every single person there.  I almost had to throw down with a couple of big-haired ladies.  Hey, just because they sport the big do doesn't automatically make them friendly. We all make a choice early on to use our big hair powers for good...or evil.  While I wanted to run up to them and yell "No cuts!," I instead opted for "you're going to face the wrath of seven angry people on wheels and one woman with a ferocious shih tzu (Willoughby isn't really ferocious) if you proceed to place yourself in this spot two minutes before boarding while we've all been waiting for over an hour." But Southwest showed them.  The gate agents walked right past them and their blue plastic pre-board passes to the passengers in need of wheelchair assistance. Take that, line cutters!

Not that I'm an angel at the airport.  Far from it.  Vegas to Lubbock yesterday.  Try telling the six passengers traveling to Lubbock, not Vegas, that they will have to make an unscheduled plane change at the Vegas airport.  Nooooooo!  I have a front row window seat, people. And my carry-ons are already nestled and napping overhead. Now you're telling me I've got to get up, disrupt the carry-ons and the non-ferocious shih tzu, and make my way to a gate that hasn't even been announced yet?!?  Using my big hair powers for evil is beginning to look a lot more appealing.

I don't deal with stress well.  You know the quizzes you can take online that tell you what dog breed you would be?  Well, I'm definitely a nervous breed.  Not a chihuahua or a dachshund, exactly. More like an endearing but sometimes irritating toy breed that shakes a lot.  And, when stressed to maximum capacity, will occasionally pop an eye out of socket.  (That really happens, by the way, for some breeds...a story for another day.)

So this is a BIG problem for me when it comes to eating and exercise. A good friend of mine, also a therapist, recently told me that people react in one of three ways to stress.  They fight.  They flee.  Or they freeze. Of course, we've all learned about this in regards to danger. We've all heard stories of the mom who lifts the mini-van over her head to save her children in an accident, then flings it to the side like an empty Diet Coke can. But I'd never heard of the fight-flight-freeze phenomenon as a response to stress. This is a breaking development.

So, you say, some people deal with stress by fighting?  Of course...boxers, kickboxers, Sylvester Stallone in any movie. (Note to you stress fighters out there...in Manila, Philippines, you can pay money at one restaurant to throw plates or, if you have 1300 pesos, television sets against a wall to relieve your stress.) 

And when I think of people who flee from stress, I immediately think of the commercial with the woman who loves to hit the open road. She says her day isn't complete without a nice, long, therapeutic run. She is one with the asphalt beneath her feet.  I'll stick to my air-conditioned Prius, thank you.        

Me?  I'm a freezer.  A worrier and a freezer.  Oh sure, I wake up in the morning with all the best intentions. I've read (or skimmed, at least) every self-help book out there.  I'm looking at a copy of Dale Carnegie's How to Stop Worrying and Start Living on my night stand right now.  But give me a few minutes and a little sprinkle of catastrophic thinking, and I can work any molehill into a mountain.   

What's more, this freezer is filled with mint chocolate chip ice cream. And chocolate chip cookies.  Chocolate of any kind, really. You know the saying that "desserts" is "stressed" spelled backwards? Truer words were never spoken.

But it's been six days since I've had refined sugar.  (I feel like I'm in AA.  Hi, my name's Elizabeth.)  Yesterday, the flight attendant was offering up honey-roasted peanuts.  No, thank you, I said.  And Wheat Thins, which I soon discovered had sugar in them.  No.  And Coke, Dr. Pepper, ginger ale, cranberry juice, Bailey's and cream...no, no, no, no and no.    

Professional opinions vary.  Some "experts" claim it takes 21 days to change a habit.  When it comes to chocolate, I'm leaning towards the wisdom of relationship experts who say it takes half the time you were in a relationship to mourn and recover from it.  I've had a 27-year relationship with chocolate, so I'm figuring it will take just about 13 years to get over the break up.  It's yet to be determined whether or not we can still have occasional rendezvous and come out unscathed.  

It's also been six days that I've worked out consistently. Today...water aerobics at the Texas Tech leisure pool. OMG!  The hardest water aerobics class I've ever taken.  It looked calm on the surface, but underneath...I had a Michael Flatley/Lord of the Dance thing going on. After class, my mom and I took a few trips around the lazy river.  It will forever be one of my favorite memories...floating down the lazy river, talking to my mom, watching the sun go down over the sprawling Texas Tech campus.

And I realize, I've used my weight to set an automatic and obvious boundary to the world around me because I haven't trusted myself to draw them in other, more appropriate ways.  Meanwhile, being preoccupied with my fatness and all the baggage that comes with it, I've let a lot of moments like tonight escape unnoticed.  

And so I say to the universe...no more!  How do I stop worshipping the chocolate god?  Wake up an hour-and-a-half earlier to drag myself upstairs and work out every day when every fiber of my being protests? Stop making mountains out of molehills, take a big girl pill, and deal with stress like everyone else on this planet has to while keeping both eyes safely in their sockets? Unfortunately, this isn't a sitcom and I can't wrap it up nice and neatly in 22 minutes.  But I'm damn sure going to find out!  Stay tuned.

Comments

[KaraMae]

EJ, you know I also use food to soothe myself. We need to find something else to soothe ourselves with... But chocolate, especially in ice cream form, is just the perfect panacea, you know? I'm off sugar since Sunday night. I've been at the gym for four days running. I am doing this WITH you! Keep the posts coming, my friend. Keep 'em coming!

[debra]

Coco, there is always a Diet Dr. Brown Cream Soda here for you! Your are beautiful, healthy, sexy and radiant from the inside out... and you have fab hair!!! deb