i love food; meat, vegetables, bread, cakes, sweets. i come from foodies and my mom and dad raised me to try everything before saying i don't like it. lately i've even begun to re-visit things i hadn't liked in the past, attempting to see if my taste really has changed*.
the problem is, i like food a little too much. over the last 33 years i've lost and gained and lost and gained to an almost ridiculous degree; i'm starting to feel like Kirstie Alley. here are the highlights:
- (1999, about a year after graduating college) i was 165 lbs and wearing a size 30 jeans*, thanks to a really hot mexican guy who gave me mono.
- (2006) a year before CawfeeMate and i tied the knot i was 210 lbs
- (2007) thanks to Weight Watchers, i was down to 172 by the time we got married, on October 6th.
- (2008) a year later, i was up to 190 lbs, when we got married (again) on October 11th.
- as of this morning, i'm down to 173 lbs.
but, in the end, all the rest of the ups and downs all come back to food.
i almost always want to eat, but i know that i can't.
i could snack all day at work; i could drop $5 a day on the lady who sits 3 desks over and sells snack-sized bags of chips and cookies and pretzels and things...but i walk by her every day and only say hello.
at home, i'd gladly indulge in second helpings of whatever we make for dinner***, and then sit down to watch tv with thebag of pita chips and a tub of hummus we got from Costco...but, instead, i measure out one portion of chips (admitedly about 2 cups) and about half a cup of the hummus. and dessert? i could easily down half a pint of Ben & Jerry's Cake Batter ice cream or half a package of Oreos or Mallomars in an evening, instead of stopping after one scoop or 3 cookies.
if i didn't exercise restraint, i'd feel terrible about myself. i'd be racked with good old fashioned catholic flavored guilt about not being able to overcome my basest urges. because that's what it's all about, at the end of the day: being able to lie in bed**** and say "your will-power stopped you from eating today". well that and being able to fit in size 32 pants.
i slipped this morning and indulged in the craving i've had for McDonald's breakfast. There's alot of fat and alot of calories in a bacon, egg and cheese on a bagel, folks, but i had to give in. there was no way i'd be able to make it another day without one. so, as "penance" i skipped lunch and will forgo my after dinner chips and hummus. as i finish writing this (i started about 4 hours ago), i'm unbelievably hungry. Debbie, the chip lady, has one bag of Cinnamon Scooby Snack graham crackers left (only 55 cents!) but i'm going to walk past her, on the way out the door, no matter how tempted i am to slip twice in one day.
i have to will myself not to because each time i do, it's another step closer toward 210...someplace that i refuse to ever see again.
* i have CawfeeMate to thank for this, since his way of cooking and tastes aren't quite the same as mine. he's a brilliant cook, so chances are if he makes it, i'll like it.
** truth to be told, i probably should've been wearing a size 32, but i was 23 and had an ass you could bounce a quarter off of and make change, so why quibble?
*** 99% of the time, whatever we cook is made in a way that the WW gurus would approve of: low fat or no fat cheeses on our pizza, chicken sausage, green vegetables every day, measured portions, little or no oil, nothing fried, etc.
**** maybe this explains why CawfeeMate tells me that i "sleep eat"; that is: make noises like i'm eating and drinking, in my sleep.