Okay, yesterday I didn't journal. And you know what? I ate like a crazy woman. Good thing I don't have a lot of crap in my house, but I didn't need to eat three slices of provolone for a "snack," or six pretzel rods, or a huge serving of a healthful, fiber-filled, homemade bean soup – full of fiber, low in fat, but pretty high in calories. A normal serving would have been enough.
So there you have it. I've proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that journaling helps keep you on track.
The other hiccup around here is that I haven't done the 30-Day Shred in two days. I dreamed about doing it last night though (when I slept, I had a rough time staying asleep for some reason). Today's the day to get back on that horse, especially since it's raining and we might not get to walk outside.
As for food, I do better when I Just. Don't. Snack. I didn't grow up eating snacks during the day. We had three meals and sometimes, sometimes, we would have a little treat in the evening. Whenever we had a sitter we had popcorn and Pepsi – it was the only time we were ever allowed to drink soda. Occasionally we would all get in the car and drive to the A&W for root beer floats.
Until I was 11 we lived in the suburbs and we ate whatever Mom bought at the grocery. And we ate it at mealtimes. When I turned 11 my family moved to a small city, we lived across the street from a Mom-and-Pop grocery (with a candy counter!) and my brother and I started getting an allowance. I'm sure you've heard the expression, regarding drug addicts, that all their money goes straight up their noses? Well, that was me, only with candy. There was a big basket of apples on the counter, too, but my nickels went for Three Musketeers bars.
Yes. Nickels.
My dieting life started shortly thereafter. You can't eat candy bars every day and not pay consequences.
My dieting life in the past 10 years has been different, in that I've done almost everything right (the 80/20 rule) and I still can't seem to get rid of the excess lard. I might be one of those women who gets fatter instead of thinner after menopause. I might be on the cusp of hypothyroidism. There might be other factors of which I'm unaware – a large tumor in my belly, maybe? Hey, it could happen! Heh. (I maybe shouldn't joke about things like that.)
I guess the important thing is I haven't given up. I still want to run a full marathon in 2011. Right now, I'd just like to run a couple miles without stopping! Until I lose some weight, I'm asking for trouble – knee trouble, foot trouble, back trouble. Wanting to run is a great incentive to continue the struggle.
And now that it's getting a little warmer, and we can actually see spring and – gasp! – summer on the horizon, wanting to wear shorts is, too.
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2 comments:
Nickels, ha ha! In my day it was a QUARTER.
I was raised the same way: soda was a special-occasion thing, usually when we had a babysitter. Not sure what the connection is, were our parents compensating us for their absence on their night out, or placating us to go easy on the sitter? Same with snacks, special occasion only. We did usually have dessert after dinner, but it was typically jello and canned fruit salad, nothing extensive.
In ancient times, when I was growing up we only rarely had a soda. My mom had the notion (correct, as it turns out) that they weren't good for us. And not just the sugar, either. She didn't think the carbonation was a good thing. And...guess what? Turns out that carbonation itself is a possible link to pancreatic (I believe this is the variety) cancer. The odd thing though, is that thirty-five years later, when I visited my parents and stayed long enough to see their lifestyle, what surprised me was a giant-sized trash can FILLED with crushed aluminum cans! My parents, in their dotage, had gone from prohibition to excess! They had bought into the philosophy that included sodas-anytime-you-want came with financial success. Yes, they bought orange juice and any manner of fruit,too, but those sodas were a big part of their liquid menu but only after I'd long since left home.
Elora
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