No new weight loss to report this week, since I’m nowhere near a scale, and won’t be, for a few more days.
The view from my seat
I’m writing this week’s blog from the banks of the Arkansas River, where we’ve been camping for a few days, and will finally pack up and head home on Sunday. We bought a pop-up camper roughly a month ago, and this is our second trip out, with many more trips planned.
I’ve been a tent camper for most of my life. I was raised in a scouting family; my brothers were Boy Scouts, my parents were volunteer scoutmasters. When I came of age, I became a Camp Fire Girl, and later, in high school, I joined a high adventure Explorer Post (now called Learning for Life).
I’ve always been an outdoors person; I grew up in a small town, on a lakefront, and just about every activity with my friends was outside. From ice skating to hockey to swimming to boating, our lives were on the water or around it. I walked to school with my friends. I worked on the other side of the lake, and walked to my job, roughly two miles away. I rode my bike everywhere; around the lake, to friends’ houses, to neighboring towns.
I still love the outdoors, and my soul demands a view of the water to be at peace — but I’ve let obesity rob me of the simple joys of being outside. I’m still more of an observer than a participant, but returning to things like hiking, swimming, scuba diving will come in time. For now, being able to get out and about, enjoying the glint of sunlight on the water or bursts of stars in a night sky, is another important step toward balance.
Yes, I’ve had some issues; while I’ve been fortunate over recent months to not deal with my knee locking up, it’s done so twice while camping. I’ve been prepared, though. It’s a small setback. It’s also a reminder that I have lots of work still ahead of me. I will need knee replacement soon, and the more weight I lose, the stronger I become physically, the better off I will be.
This journey started off as yet another attempt to lose weight, with hope that I wouldn’t give up in a week. Over time, though, it’s become much more about finding that balance in my life, restoring those things that are at the core of me, than simply dropping weight. Feeding an adventuresome spirit is another facet worth shining.
I’m back in weight loss mode, again, after a couple weeks’ down; 114.4 pounds lost — just in time for spring break and another camping trip. This time, I’m better prepared!
I’m at a point in my weight loss, now, that I find myself constantly taking inventory, and comparing that against my mental images of myself. It’s hard for me to keep reality and that mental image aligned, and it’s been my downfall, before. In 2012, when I lost just under 70 pounds, I truly believed I had progressed more than I had. When I saw photos of myself after vacation, I was surprised by the large difference between what I thought I looked like, and what I actually looked like.
114 pound giant Chinese salamander — who doesn’t want to lose *that*?
That’s not all that threw me off; it was just the last contributing factor that tipped me off the wagon. I’d already had disappointments, gaining back several pounds before vacation, not wanting to put in the necessary work for the desired outcome, and not having an accurate picture of my physical abilities. If my mind isn’t firmly focused, simple things can throw me off.
I didn’t want to learn from the experience, back then. I simply never went back on my diet after vacation. I am learning, now. I need to make sure that those expectations of myself are in sync with reality. It’s far too easy to simply believe praise and think I’m stronger and thinner than I am, so I’ve made the conscious analysis of my body an ongoing habit. It’s a tight balance between overshooting my current situation and selling myself short.
I didn’t really realize until the other day, though, how much unconscious inventory I take. My body is changing, and not unlike someone who’s totally drunk, I find myself staring at my own body parts as if they’re not mine. My ankles are starting to look more like the ankles of a human and less like those of an elephant. I rub my shrinking double chin a lot. At night, when I lay down, I knead my skin, feeling how much is excess, feeling the bones closer to the skin than they have been. I might actually have a noticeable collarbone, soon!
My limitations are also changing. I still have them, but I can stand and talk with someone for much longer without tiring. I can slide through smaller spaces. I can get up and down our camper steps easier than I anticipated. My endurance is growing, and this is a very good thing. I’m more active because it’s easier to get around.
Although it’s nice to see a lower number on the scale, it’s more these things that keep me going; now I can tell a difference in my physical size, and I think my brain is fairly well in sync with my reality. The longer I’m able to keep things that way, the better off I’ll be.
This is me, becoming me all over, again — and the transition is underway.
Without a doubt, one of the biggest challenges I face in getting my head right about weight loss is fear of unknown situations.
Not fear of big or expected things; sure, there are constant changes I deal with regarding my journey, both physically and mentally. I know I’ll have to deal with living in an unfamiliar body with capabilities that are modulating from one day to the next. I’ve prepared myself for those sorts of things, because I’ve been there, before.
No weight loss this week. Just awkward discomfort!
No, my fears are tied to stepping outside my comfort zone, even if the things I fear are also things I love and look forward to. It isn’t because I have self-doubt; once again, I expect that. Everyone stumbles just a bit as they learn and adapt. I know no one is expecting me to suddenly become a superhero.
As I learn about myself, one of the things I’ve been dealing with is my introverted nature. I’m not very good at being flung into the unfamiliar, especially leadership roles; I tend to be more of a support person, happy to not be in the limelight.
A couple weeks ago, I mentioned two recent endeavors: joining an orchestra, and returning to exercise. Both have put me in unique and uncomfortable positions in the last week, over and above the difficulty of choosing to do them in the first place, but there are always lessons to be learned if you look hard enough. Sometimes, those lessons jump up and smack you right between the eyes.
In water aerobics class, I was the beginner; I never even attempted it until a few weeks ago. So, it’s with some irony that I ended up leading the class for the past week. (I’m not going to say teaching; I don’t know enough about it to teach it, other than the similarities of some moves with weight lifting, which I have done.) The first day it happened, I assisted by being a timekeeper; the next day, I ended up leading the class, and when Monday rolled around this week, I did it again.
Wednesday, I was nearly late to class because I misplaced my car keys; when I arrived, the class was actually anxiously waiting for me to show up and lead. Er, what? Mind you, it’s a small class. And I am an introvert — if I’m out of my element, I have a hard time pushing myself to assume any level of leadership. I don’t want it. I’m also not the best in group settings, especially with workouts; I have almost always worked out alone (or with just one partner). The mere idea of having a class waiting on me? Honestly, it freaks me out. I honestly hope that my days as an erstwhile volunteer water aerobics “leader” are done.
The lesson, though, was in battling that innate tendency to reject an uncomfortable leadership role and just not go at all. Believe me, I grumbled to myself every morning before going. I seriously had to make myself get in my suit and walk out the door, knowing I’d likely be leading class, again.
But on the flip side of that, I would have been hurting myself by not working out, and I need every single workout. I want to be strong. I hunger for that feeling of ability that comes with physical strength. Was I going to let the circumstances of the class stop me?
No. I didn’t. I went. I’m proud of that, even if I’m still not crazy about being the one people are looking to. I don’t want that responsibility, and will gladly return it to the regular instructor when she’s able to return. But I won’t let a difficult situation daunt me into stepping away from exercise, again.
I also have a similar situation in orchestra. It’s not a leadership role; it’s more a matter of fighting for something that means a lot to me. I had just fallen in love with the idea of making music, again, when they announced that the upcoming concert would be on the same day as another event I’ve already committed myself to attend, and dearly enjoy.
This came immediately after a local composer introduced two pieces that are great for my instrument, and also quite challenging; while I’m still pretty rusty as a player, the idea of mastering them gave me an honest-to-goodness adrenaline rush. I went from the euphoria of finding that desire to play music beyond my current capabilities, to realizing that I’d have to make a hard choice. Which event will I attend?
Well — it looks like I’ll be attending both events. I’ll be doing a mad dash between them. They both mean a lot to me, and I want to be present at both of them. I will make it work in any way I can.
I don’t know that I would have been willing to do that a year ago. It’s going to be a lot of pressure, racing from a campground in one location to a performance 30 miles away (and then back!). I’m probably deranged for even considering it, but I know I will regret it if I choose one or the other.
Crazy? Perhaps, but I’m definitely going outside what’s comfortable — and learning some lessens about my own capabilities, on top of it.
I’m pleased to report a new low this morning: I’m now 105.4 pounds down!
This past week, I’ve had the joy of returning to two things I’ve needed back in my life for a very long time — and both, though they seem distant from each other, required the same processes of stepping out of my comfort zone.
‘The Biggest Loser’ crowns Rachel Frederickson winner after she weighs-in at only at 105 pounds .
The first was last Sunday; I joined a community orchestra. Roughly two years ago, a friend gave me the gift of music in my life, again, by sending me her french horn; something I played for many years, and had meant, at one point, to be a crucial part of my career. That’s not what I ended up doing, and truthfully, when I sold my horn not long after college, I thought I’d likely never get the chance to play with a musical group again.
Last Sunday, that changed. I’d played enough in my own house, occasionally playing to recorded accompaniment on the sound system, but no matter how you cut it, that’s rather lonely. Music is an experience is meant to be shared. I had looked for a community group to join, but didn’t find one until a few weeks ago; and last Sunday afternoon, I walked into the first rehearsal of the year.
Skipping forward to Monday, I took another step outside my comfort zone: I returned to exercise, after having left it several years ago. I had never been much of a workout maven; not until I started my first big weight loss journey in 2003. That journey truly was a physical one: I started by walking around my yard, and that was all I could manage. I kept walking until I’d created trails through the grass in my yard, and people would honk and wave at me as they drove by on the road in front of my house, because they saw me trudging along at the same time every morning.
From there, I joined the gym with my husband; it was totally alien to me. I swam laps in the gym pool, learned how to walk on a treadmill, and finally moved to the weight room and machines for strength training. What started as a simple lap around the yard graduated to daily 4 mile walks/jogs and strength training every morning before 5 am. Yeah, I was a workout badass for a while; when my daughter and I worked out in the weight room, there were men we out-lifted.
For a while, anyway. Until I injured myself; first by falling on one knee, breaking off a bone spur which lodged under my kneecap, requiring surgery. I came back after that, but I kept injuring myself. I pushed myself beyond the abilities of my body; I broke my own rules about adapting when hitting a wall. I left the gym for a couple years, only to return in 2011-2012. I water walked and jogged; my knees were in horrible condition and I’d regained most of my weight. If you read last week’s blog, you know I gave up on that effort. I left the gym, again.
A friend who works at the gym invited me to come give water aerobics a try — something that, quite honestly, I didn’t think was for me — but I needed to start somewhere. I needed to exercise, again. The time had arrived. So, on Monday morning, I started water aerobics class; it’s my first step back to building muscle and endurance. I’m back at the gym, once again.
Yes, playing french horn in an orchestra and going to water aerobics class have more in common than you may think. These tasks will build on each other. Being a musician requires physical control; lungs, diaphragm, lip muscles (in my case), posture, endurance. (Not to mention, carrying a horn case across a parking lot!) Just sitting in proper posture to play, for two hours on Sunday afternoon, made the muscles in my back hurt.
Likewise, water aerobics — or any cardio exercise — requires a lot of the same things, including endurance and lung capacity. I fully expect that as I progress with both, I’ll likely improve at both faster than I would at either one, taken separately.
But that’s not the biggest common denominator. No, that’s reserved for taking the step to be willing to step outside my comfort zone, and risk being uncomfortable. Believe me, walking into a room of musicians that I’ve never met before, with over 30 years of rust to knock off, took an act of bravery. The reward, for me, was the pure and deep joy of making sound with other musicians; it didn’t matter if I was good or not. I was doing what I set out to do, and welcomed by others who have been in the same place. I left there feeling absolutely exhilarated and challenged.
Returning to the gym, where I have previously given up several times, meant I needed not only to swallow my pride, and once again endure walking into a situation where I didn’t know the people involved, and had never been in a water aerobics class, feeling as if I might be judged for my size just by the act of walking through the doors. I did know the instructor; and once I got going, I felt a lot more comfortable with the situation. Now, I don’t care so much if someone happens to see me there and judge me; after all, I’m there for a reason. All of us are. Judging me for exercising would be stupid, considering everyone who walks through the door has the same goal.
So I leave this week, a better person than I started it, already feeling stronger; perhaps not physically, just yet, but certainly mentally. I’ve come to the conclusion that while I might refer to this weight loss journey as one journey, it’s not, really; it’s a series of new starts. Hurdles that must be met and jumped over, vantage points where it’s okay to rest a while and appreciate where I’ve been before tackling the next set of hurdles along the road.
100 pounds down? Yep, that’s *this girl*. Honestly, I’m still in shock that I’ve come this far. In fact… 100.2 pounds!
100 pounds of fat — on a table. Because who doesn’t normally put 100 pounds of fat there?
Mind you, this hasn’t been a fast process at all; it was September of 2013 when I took my first step on this journey, so it’s taken me more than two years to lose 100 pounds. But on the flip side, it feels surreal, because I honestly thought I wouldn’t be able to join the ranks of the big losers, again. But here I am, back in the Century Club, and believe me, I’m proud and happy to be here.
The last few months have been the most miraculous. Weight loss, for me, is a constant process of experimentation; if something doesn’t work, try something else — balanced with the doubts of whether I’ve given something all the chances I should have before making a change. There just simply is no way to know what works without trying a variety of methods and hoping, once you find a good combination, that you can ride that out for a bit.
That’s where I’ve been these past seven months or so; I found a good combination, and I’ve been riding it. I’m sure at some point I’ll have to adjust; I suspect that point might be coming soon, but I’m mentally prepared to keep plugging away at it.
Because 100 pounds of loss is nothing to sneeze at. This journey has been one of opposites; hard work, and yet easier than I thought it would be. Slow, but faster changes than I expected at different points along the way. Frustrating at times; rewarding at others. With these polar opposites, I’ve had to ride the waves and make sure at every ebb and flow that my mind is in the right place. Sometimes, that battle has been very difficult, and yes, I have always had part of me that whispers “too much work, no one cares, eat what you want!”
I am surrounded by people who want me to succeed — and I truly believe that has made the biggest difference, over previous attempts to lose weight and regain health. Transparency has made this a very interesting ride; when I’ve all but dropped off the face of the earth, wanting to just give up, there’s always been someone who has reminded me to return to my focus and goals.
Truly, to those of you who have been there for me, I owe you a huge Thank You. There have been several times I would have been happy to just disappear, but you haven’t let that happen. Make no mistake — I’m on this journey for myself, but my family and friends are my largest consideration and I owe a debt of gratitude to those who continue to be there for me as I keep taking each step forward.
It’s been all about taking risks and taking chances. I wouldn’t say I’m a changed person, although I am, in many ways; perhaps it’s more accurate to say that I’m peeling away what really isn’t me, and returning to my core. That ultimately makes this the trip of a lifetime — and I’m enjoying the journey.
Like so many other fine folks, I’m working on losing the pounds I gained over the holidays — so no earth-shattering weight loss news this week, but it’s coming, folks. I’ll be in the Century Club (100 pounds down) before I know it.
Mine is in the act of apologizing.
So, let me cut to the chase: I’ve got a bit of a rant. Generally speaking, it’s about the way we approach weight loss and related issues, and the inference by the diet industry that we’re not good enough unless we fit a certain set of standards. Of all people, I was surprised to hear Oprah Winfrey start a commercial for Weight Watchers with this statement: “Inside every overweight woman is a woman she knows she can be.”
Later, she addresses getting buried under the weight, failures after losing, and problems that most overweight people are familiar with. I can identify with some of that. I find the initial statement she made dangerous, though. Like Oprah, I’ve yoyo dieted for decades. I’ve lost great amounts of weight, only to regain them. And what I’m discovering, now, doesn’t echo her statement at all; I’m not somehow waiting, cloistered, inside this fat body, idealizing some distant creature I hope to become.
That’s a passive picture; a woman dreaming of what she can become, if only certain things happen for her. Under the surface, it carries the implication that we’re not good enough people until we meet that imaginary standard, and pairs it with the subtle idea that making that change will be something that just happens once you make the commitment.
Successful weight loss doesn’t just happen; it requires active, steadfast work toward concrete and reasonable goals. It also requires self-acceptance and personal honesty throughout the entire process, not simply an image of I’m not good enough unless I’m that person I imagine I can become. One of the most important things I’ve had to do is accept myself, as I am, at every point during my weight loss. That’s not easy; not in the least.
The idea that there’s some woman I’m waiting to become is dangerous fiction; I’m already her. I was her a hundred pounds ago, and I’ll still be her when I’ve lost another hundred. Sure, my packaging is changing, but that’s my physical description, not the person I am at my core. I might be less inclined to do many things at a heavier weight — either by choice or necessity — but that doesn’t change who I am, and who I’ve always been.
If you believe you’re horrible and you’ll be horrible unless you’re some imaginary size 6 version of your dream self, all you do is build the case for your failure — because even if you reach that imaginary dream size, you’re going to still believe you’re not good enough. I know. I’ve been there, time and time again.
The first and biggest battle of any success? Understand who you are, right now, and know that regardless of your circumstances, being true to the person you’ve always been is the primary choice you make toward success. I still struggle with the concept of not good enough, but with each step, each time I stand and fight, that changes just a bit more.
For those about to embark on changing your lifestyle, I salute you. It is, after all, that time of year where so many assess where they’ve been, where they are, and where they want to be. Even though I’ve been on this journey for over two years, I still find myself assessing, looking to see what needs to be corrected.
Please note… this isn’t me!
I started my weight loss journey at a different time of year, but possibly for the same reasons many do — I was disgusted with myself, I knew I could feel and look better, and although I had absolutely no faith that I could succeed, I knew I had to do something. Although I’m a big believer that you have to be in the right place, mentally, to succeed at anything, there are times where faking it until you make it works. Dieting is one of them.
If I have one piece of advice to offer, it’s this: give yourself time in small increments. Don’t look a month, a year, a hundred pounds down the line; set your sites on getting through today only. Make your plan, and do your best to stick to it for today; worry about tomorrow when you wake up in the morning. For now, anyway. Make it through the next meal. Make it through the afternoon. Go to sleep, tonight, satisfied that you’ve done all you could to be successful, just for today.
A change in lifestyle isn’t just one choice; it’s a string of little choices, mostly good and some bad, that connect and produce a larger change. It’s not embarking on a 100-day workout program; it’s making the choice to roll out of bed and go to the gym. It’s not buying a month’s meal plan from some diet company; it’s making the choice to not eat that chocolate cupcake.
So if you’re looking to start changing yourself, start small. Take the first step and don’t worry about whether that first step will result in a marathon. Do that enough times, and you’ll look back to discover you’ve surpassed the marathon.
After a 4 day early Christmas celebration this past weekend, I have no new loss to report, but I remain dedicated to getting that niggling 1.4 pounds off before the end of the year — one week to go!
Every holiday meal ever.
This will be my third holiday season on this journey, so I thought I’d take a look back to see what I was dealing with one and two years ago. Truly, stressing over 1.4 pounds is nothing, in comparison. And I admit I’m stressing over it, which I also know does no good. I have not been as strong as I planned on being this season; I planned on having that weight off already, and I’m struggling with forgiving myself for taking a small food holiday. I truly wish I’d waited until after losing the 1.4 pounds, but timing didn’t work out that way.
This time last year (December, 2014), I wanted to meet a 60-pound goal by the end of the year, and 100 pounds down… by my Cozumel vacation in June. I didn’t meet either of those goals, but I did finish the year at 58.4 pounds down, but backslid during the holidays and allowed a gain of 17 pounds. That was a bit of a mountain to climb, right at the beginning of the year.
Considering that my total weight loss for 2014 was about 30 pounds, I’ve done exceptionally well this year — having lost over 40 pounds since 2014’s low, much of that in the second half of the year.
In 2013, I was dealing with a bit of pain, since I had stomach issues related to NSAID use and had to drop off of them for a bit; since I have severe arthritis, that meant chronic pain, which can be quite depressing. I was near the beginning of my journey and in pain, anyway, from the weight I was carrying, but seeing some improvements. By the end of the year, I was down just under 32 pounds — better than 2014’s total.
Both years, I faced temptation during the holidays; I face that this year, as well. I imagine I will every year. We’ve done some things, though, that minimize the damage, including things like planning for holiday meal desserts by buying single servings, and limiting what’s in the house. We ate out a lot this past weekend, and I started each meal, assuming I’d be taking half of my meal with me in a to-go box. (Portions at some restaurants are outrageously large.)
To put things in perspective, I have seen my greatest improvements this year, particularly in the past few months. My eyes have been focused on that 100-pound mark, and it’s a worthy goal; if I were mountain climbing, I’d be just a few steps away. Sometimes, though, it pays to turn around and look at where I’ve been; a reminder of just how far I’ve come, and how much my life has changed in the previous two years.
This is the biggest gift I can continue to give myself, and it’s my wish that next year, and this time, I’ll be even further up that mountain, and grinning over having met that 100-pound goal, and surpassing it by a good margin.
I’m down 93.6 pounds; a slight decrease, but considering I had large gains from Thanksgiving during the past week, I’ll take it! It’s not enough to tip the ticker to the next pound, but every ounce counts.
Only 1 in 10, however, thought psychological well-being was a factor. “That may explain why so many of us struggle,” said Robinson. “In order to lose weight and keep it off long term, we need to do more than just think about what we eat, we also need to understand why we’re eating.”
It’s only hell if you make it that way.
Although I’m convinced that there are no universal rules to successful weight loss, I’ve come to believe through my own experience that my mind is my biggest hindrance to losing weight and keeping it off. If your mind isn’t in the right place, you will not lose weight.
The article touches on exploring the emotional ties we have to food, including as a reward, celebration, and comfort. For those with varying degrees of food issues, this becomes doubly important to solve, because the jump from food-as-reward to diet-as-punishment is a very narrow gap.
The odds are stacked against losing weight and keeping it off. “Studies show nearly 2 out of 3 people who lose 5 percent of their total weight will gain it back, and the more weight you lose, the less your chances of keeping it off.” And yet, when surveyed, respondents listed psychological factors as the smallest barrier to losing weight, rather than, as I believe, the largest one.
Food issues aside, I believe the reason losing weight becomes so overwhelmingly difficult for most people is because it takes a lot of mental work and dedication to make it successful. This is one of the chief reasons I don’t believe in fad diets or diet pills; they detract from the learning and adapting that must take place in order for weight loss to be sustained. And that’s a hell of a hard lesson; for all of the times I’ve lost weight in the past, with some pretty big efforts, I have yet to learn and adapt in ways that will sustain my new body.
I live in hope that this time, I’ll get it.
Even this last weekend, after months of successful weight loss, I overate — knowing it would take me at least a week of losing just to get back where I started. I could list any number of reasons for why I was distracted, but the fact was that I was distracted, and allowed myself to backslide. I had intended to enjoy a few treats and was willing to pay the price for them, but ended up enjoying much more and not limiting myself as originally planned.
No, I’m not flogging myself over it, because that’s as much an emotionally volatile issue as overeating itself. Forcing myself to feel badly over an error in judgment can start a cascade of self-punishment that builds enough resentment to flip that switch; the one where I let that little voice that tells me I’m not good or deserving enough to succeed, win. So instead, I recognize what I’ve done, I adjust, I correct, and I go on.
I wouldn’t call it hell as the meme suggests; more like a never-ending learning curve, but the biggest thing I’ve learned about weight loss is that it’s as much a mental battle as a physical one. Accept that, and the battle becomes a bit easier, and success a little bit more sure.
I’ve lost slightly from last week — but not enough to change my ticker.
This blog entry is an extension and a response to a previous week’s blog. (Link)
Pretty much all of us, yesterday
With Thanksgiving just yesterday (and again today, for our group), I don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. I realized, after reading my blog entry, that while I made the point I intended, I might have also left people with the idea that my lifestyle choices from here on out don’t include the occasional treat. They do.
I’m not a dieting martyr. I’m not going to lie and say I’ll never have pecan pie, stuffing, eggnog, or other holiday treats that I enjoy; I will. The difference will be that my servings will be small. They will be treats, not binges, and there is most certainly a difference.
The holidays are a land mine for anyone with dietary restrictions, whether they’re for the purpose of losing weight or something more demanding, such as diabetes control or food allergies. The good news is that I have a map to avoid the mines, and if I’m careful, I’ll come out on the other end just fine.
Having a short term goal helps; I have a few more pounds to lose before meeting my year’s end goal of being 100 pounds down, and with four weeks left in the year, I’m poised to meet that goal, as long as I keep my focus.
I’m not going to deny myself a few tastes of foods I love during the holidays; while I firmly believe in discipline, I think many of us fail when we see our food restrictions as deprivation rather than choice. If you’re constantly focused on foods you miss, and you feel like you’re punishing yourself, how long do you really think you’ll last before you start thinking “why am I doing this to myself?”
The focus shouldn’t be on food, but the reasons you’re changing your lifestyle. I’m trading eating unlimited amounts of stuffing for the gift to myself of truly feeling better.
Likewise, I’m of the mind that food should never be a reward for losing weight. “I lost 93 pounds, so I’m gonna eat that entire coconut cream pie!” is a dangerous mindset; no one deserves a food treat for controlling food. No, it’s more a matter of “I’d like a taste of coconut cream pie, what should I trade for it?” And for me, sometimes, it’s worth the trade of an anticipated stall to have a small bit of pie. And when I make that choice, I make it willingly and knowingly.
