Skip to main content

Pandemic pounds or quarantine 15

I have the great privilege of working for WW (y'all know it as Weight Watchers). It's a program that worked for me and for the past three years I've been fortunate to be alongside others on their journeys to weight loss or healthier living. 

It is an amazing experience, with each and every workshop, to share in the challenges and successes of so many people. I've been brought to tears, felt incredible joy, experienced awe and hugged a gazillion WW members in support. Because it's not just about losing a couple pounds or sitting around sharing recipes - these workshops dive into some mighty personal, long-standing crap that has kept us from feeling worthy/attractive/successful/healthy/capable/sexy/confident and likely a bunch of other emotions. It's real and it matters.

So this company, that has been around for 57 years and started in the living room of Jean Neiditch was gobsmacked with by coronavirus (like the rest of the country) largely because the success of and format for the program are centered around the Workshops. In person and personal, members gather and a discussion is facilitated by a coach (leader) after members have weighed in and checked in with a guide (receptionist). When the novel coronavirus shut down much of our world, we could no longer gather in a workshop. In less than a week, however, this company transformed how we could conduct the workshop by moving them to Zoom. (Do you remember when zoom was merely a verb? Now if you Google it, you get info on the videoconferencing company/platform).

I'm grateful for these workshops too, because I know that I'd likely be gaining a lot of the weight back. I've heard about Pandemic pounds and the quarantine 15 - and I believe that it will be a reality because for those of us with lifelong weight struggles the combination of stress + inactivity + routine change + quarantine at home = weight gain. And I have gained some, initially adding 7, but have stopped the trajectory because I've been able to reset.

Comments

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

You don't know me . . .

I stopped blogging for awhile. I know some might think that I was being lazy, or overly-involved in some community or school venture or in the middle of some really good books or projects. While all of those are true, that's not the main reason. I stopped because it felt strange to be somewhere and have someone refer to something I wrote. It was like they knew a secret about me (though secrets are not usually published on the Web) that I hadn't shared with them. Though in reality I had shared because I wrote it on the blog.  Truth be told, I don't know who reads this - I have a smattering of followers but a lot more readers. Blogger lets me see how many page views for each posting and I can even tell the referral site. The most I have had for any post was 152 and I've had readers from as far away as New Zealand (thank you Gretchen) and Alaska. Most readers are referred through Facebook. I know that if I were more diligent, I could market the crap out of the blog ...

The amazement of children

I am a kid magnet. Especially little ones in strollers, my fellow four-wheelers. They will look at me, then my 'stroller', then back at me. And I waste no time in striking up a discussion with these fellow captives of the four-wheel system that has us at the mercy of whomever may be pushing us around. For those that are verbal, I like to compare our 'strollers'. One such young man, at the March in D.C. pointed out that I had two really big wheels and two really small ones, but his transport's wheels were all the same size and then he counted (it was adorable watching him squirm around in the stroller to look at the wheels behind him!) eight wheels. "Pus," he lisped what I assume was 'plus', "I have a hood." He proudly grabbed the stroller canopy and pulled it forward and backward. Yep, he had a much superior ride and I told him so. Then he said, with not a hint of awkwardness, "You're big for a stroller." His mother was ab...

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling

I put my pride aside and got my ass off the grass and into the wheelchair. {I spent a couple minutes deciding whether to put an exclamation mark after that declaration or to put the period after that statement. I think the period better suits my mood about getting said ass into the wheelchair!} On July 4, Saugatuck has a wonderfully unique parade that includes quirky participants like the artsy-fartsy campers at OxBow art colony and the LGBT members of a local foundation along with the more traditional participants like Girl Scouts, fire trucks, and local politicians. It had been a couple years since I had been to the parade, this year, though, my Mom and sister were in town and I wanted to take them. So we loaded up in the van, including Kerri's wheelchair and my own. Once we parked, John asked if I wanted to use my chair and I initially balked but then remembered that it can be a long, hot parade and it might be better to have a place to sit. So, I acquiesced and took the cha...