dieting

And so it begins...Again. Again to the power of 4.

Damnation!  I promised I was through with dieting! I swore to the air gods above and said: I! WILL! NOT! DIET! Then I ate a ton of crap and couldn't fit into any more of my pants.

Now, with the wedding looming in just 98 days (holy shit! That's less than 100!) I've realized that I just have to suck it up, because if I want to wear the wedding dress I've got my eye on...just sucking it in won't be enough.

So I'm starting a diet. Again. But, yeah, I'm trying to be all healthy about it and not actively DIET--more like just stop eating all the crap and exercising more.

If this works, I'll turn it into a book and sell millions. It will be called "Stop Eating Crap. Exercise More". That'll be the whole book. I'll just fill the other 300 or so pages with lots of meaningless stuff about buffalo and bigfoot and then put in some recipes.

So. Here I go. Starting right now. I'm going to put down my chip and walk away. Walk slowly away.

I probably better step away from the bacon too. Hmm. Make that run away. Run so FAR away. And with that, I leave you with this:

 

Diet Update: Week Two

Diet WEEK TWO  

I was a little leery of stepping on the scale this morning because, well, let’s just say it was a hard week. First, there was the wine tasting on Thursday and there was no way I was counting calories then. On Friday, I was just plain exhausted and wanted good food and I wanted it NOW. And then today, well, it’s Mother’s Day. Enough said.

 

I know. I know. There’s always a thousand excuses. And now I’m becoming that calorie counting annoying person. It’s annoying me. I don’t want to count calories, but I don’t know any other way to keep me aware of how much I’m actually eating. To put it simply, this week I didn’t lose any weight. In fact, I gained 1.5 pounds…which puts me…shit…right back where I started. I’m literally the same weight I was two weeks ago when I started this whole “Got to change my eating habits” game again.

 

Muther humper.

 

I feel like crying, mostly because I really hate my body right now. Mostly, I hate my belly. It won’t go away. But I’m trying to breathe and remember that when I got dressed up for the Wine Tasting with Kealoha, I felt pretty good….so this whole self image thing I think is tied to other things. Mostly, a general feeling of never quite being good enough. Self esteem issues anyone?

Plus, I was narrating this week. ALL week. As most of you know, when I narrate, I’m in a studio (motionless) from 8:30 to 4:30. I narrate for an hour, take a bathroom break, and then keep narrating. We have an hour for lunch. So my activity level has tanked. I managed to walk about two miles a day still, and five miles this weekend, but  it hasn’t helped. And I did make ‘smart’ choices while narrating. Instead of getting McDonald’s biscuit for breakfast (500 calories) and a giant sandwich and soup and cookie for lunch (1500) calories, and eating chips and pop on the way home (300 calories) and then having a huge dinner (600 calories)…I ate small meals throughout the day. Turkey slices, hummus and veggies, salads with chicken, coffee, etc. So. That was good…and also a gigantic pain in my ass because my stomach would not stop rumbling. So, maybe then, it was a pain in my stomach. I hope to god people can’t hear those tummy rumbles. Nothing like listening to an audiobook and thinking “Huh. That narrator has gas.”

 

Bah!

Okay. So one good week; one for shit week. Some choices were in my control and some weren’t. On to week three. I’m not giving up. I’m just trying to figure out a lifestyle I can live with that makes me feel good.

 

This week, I’m cutting back on wheat because I think I might have an intolerance for it. And next week, I’m joining a gym again. With all the work I’m doing, I feel like I’ve earned the right to pay hefty monthly fees. It’ll be worth it if I can get my muffin top to disappear.

 

And dammit! Now I want a muffin!

 

ArrhghhhhhH!

 

Remember when I said I wasn't dieting? Well...

Okay…so remember when I said I wasn’t dieting anymore? I was like standing on a mountaintop and the wind was blowing through my hair and I had a flag that was flapping and I raised my fist in the air and said “I! Will! Not! Diet!!”

Remember that?

Yeah. I was totally lying. Sorry about that. I wasn’t intentionally bullshitting. I mean, that day when I wrote about it, I totally believed it. I was tired of obsessing and feeling bad about myself and feeling guilty for everything I put in my mouth. Well. Ahem. Not everything. Not everything I put in my mouth has calories.

 

(Groan. Bad joke. Bad.)

 

Anyway. I believed it. I was committed to it. I had three days of guilt free eating and relaxing. And then I stepped on the scale.

 

Now, my pants have been getting tight and I was certain it was just that I had the dryer on high. I turned it down to medium. And I couldn’t remember my stomach ever being so muffin-toppy, but memory, sheesh. It does weird things. That muther humper scale though…she’d tell me the truth. And she did. The bitch.

 

I’m at my heaviest weight in seven years. I’m heavier than when I was pregnant (course I threw up nonstop then). What happened? Why do I care?

 

I don’t know. My feet hurt when I exercise. I love food. I’m happy. Blah blah blah. But the truth is, with my clothes tight and my face puffy in pictures, I don’t feel like myself anymore. And there’s that tricky little thing of being super high risk for diabetes, since I had gestational diabetes with both my kids.

 

So I’m dieting.

 

I’m trying to do it right this time though. No Weight Watchers or Flat Belly Diets or grapefruit or protein shakes. I’m just keeping track of the calories I eat with a handy little app for my iPod touch. I’m upping my walking and exercise, etc. And the farmer’s market will open soon and I plan on consuming plenty of fresh produce again.

 

It does suck though. At least this time I’m doing it not because I feel pressure from anyone else. (My boyfriend says I’m sexier than ever.) This time I’m doing it for myself. No cocky proclaiming now.

 

I’ll save that whole proclamation on a mountain thing for the next time I’m PMSing.

 

I'm not dieting anymore

I’ve been dieting since I was 17, so for the last twenty years. I don’t mean actively dieting, more like I’m always saying I’m on a diet and then I fall off the diet and then blame myself for every piece of chocolate or bag of chips that I eat. It’s really annoying.

 

In my journals I’ve recorded my weight, my activity level, and there’s always a sense that I’m never going to lose those five pounds. The only time I was at my goal weight was during the last couple years of my deteriorating marriage. I wasn’t happy then and I was at my goal weight. Why am I doing this to myself now?

 

I had a great discussion with my Gender in Society class and we were talking about beauty. There was a discussion on photo shop and how it’s so prevalent that it’s perpetuating an unattainable sense of beauty. Or consider the Dove short that shows how a cute woman is transformed into a super model by actually lengthening her neck and moving the placement of her eyes. But when these photo-shopped pictures are everywhere, it’s hard not to think you should look like that.

 

For me, I generally feel good about myself when I’m on my own. It’s more that I worry people are judging me. My ex and his wife are very healthy and run marathons, so when I look at them, I think in comparison I look like a hippo. The truth is, I will never have a lean runner’s body because I’m not a runner. I’ll also never look like a “Real Housewife” because they have so much plastic surgery they probably glow in the dark.

 

Still, those lean runners and those “Real Housewives” have bodies that are more desirable than mine.

 

Or do they? When am I going to give myself some credit? I’m voluptuous. I always have been. And now that I’m inching towards forty, I really should cut myself some slack. I won’t look like a twenty year old ever again because I’m never going to be twenty. And I’ve had two kids. Actually, for nearly forty with two kids, I’m doing pretty good.

I recently bought the flat belly diet book and was going to do the whole 4-day detox. I told Kealoha my plan and he said “Why?” Why, indeed. Because I want a flat belly. I want abs of steel. Why though? Is it really for me? No. I think I want flat abs for everyone else because I….I don’t even know. I guess because in our society it’s more important for a woman to beautiful and young than it is for her to be creative and witty and ambitious.

 

And I’m tired of it.

 

So, officially, I am not going on a diet. I’m going to try and cut myself some slack. I’m a foodie, a sensual woman, a good mom. I love food. I exercise when I can, and will more as the weather improves. You know what we’ve had the last few days for dinner? On Sunday we had this incredible soba noodle stir fry dish topped with cashews and carrots and beans and ginger. Then we had homemade pea soup and bacon avocado sandwiches. Last night, was pulled pork carnitas with a roasted tomatillo salsa. All food that I made (with a little help from K-man). This is good food. Slow food. Food for the spirit, the body, and maybe even eventually my thighs.

 

I don’t care anymore. I think it’s time I started being grateful for what and who I am instead of always wishing to be something better. I’m certain I’m not alone in this.