This post is dedicated to Matthew Mittelberg for reminding my head that my stomach was fine.
Vending machines are the worst (<-- Hyperbole, obviously. Genocide, nuclear war, cancer and most forms of homework can easily be considered much more awful than vending machines).
They sit there, fat and happy, filled with all the good things you would rather have inside yourself. To cap it all off, their outers are made of glass, so you can see all those good things. You can gently touch the glass with the tip of your index finger and slowly exhale while your mouth hangs open awkwardly and mothers whisper to their children, "See, that's what happens when you don't eat your vegetables."
I haven't been eating my vegetables.
I threw portions to the wind this last week, stopped making near-midnight runs to VONS for fruits/veggies and even had a bowl of ice cream that I didn't weigh before eating. It was definitely more than one ounce. I will laugh if it was less than ...a lot of ounces.
If there is an explanation for why I have done so horribly on this particular diet in the last month, I don't have one. Excuses, I have plenty -- no explanations. Maybe it's the negative reactions from people who know about the diet, maybe it's the irregularity of my schedule and finances, maybe it's because I have less self control when faced with homemade Italian chili than I thought I did.
Vending machines.
For those who live off of loose change and out of the back of a car, the convenience afforded by vending machines is vaguely attractive. They're everywhere. They don't close at 7 p.m. They don't glare at you when you make your whole purchase in coins. They also don't sell vegetables.
So this week I'm at the National Institute for Homeschool Debate teaching values and cross examination theory. Food will be rare and in large portions when present. It will not be nutritious and it may take a lot more effort to track down my daily fruit servings.
They gave me a subway sandwich, but the atmosphere of these types of conferences naturally push me into starvation/survival mode. So even though I had just eaten a sandwich, the Skittles in the vending machine looked rather tempting.
I didn't even have to think up an excuse. The pattern of breaking the rules came so easily to me. I walked over to get some Skittles when my good ol' buddy called out. "Hey Mary, you don't need those. You just ate. You're fine."
Not judgily (new word!) and not jokingly. Serious, but not...serious. Like a friend would.
Maybe it's because I'm sick of giving up on myself, maybe it's because I didn't want to spend my last two dollars on candy, maybe because it was nice to have someone genuinely stick up for me and my crazy plan.
I just walked away.
Proverbs 18:24
"One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother."
Monday, July 30, 2012
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Mea Culpa -- I ate a cheeseburger
Actually...It was a Big Mac. Only the bottom half, I might add! And really, just the bottom half of the bottom half because I didn't eat the top bun.
It shouldn't be a huge deal because this definitely is not the first time that I broke my self-imposed, incredibly stupid one-ounce rule(probably definitely won't be the last). And I only ate it because I had just finished a two mile run to the park where my church meets to play volleyball on Wednesdays. The carrots I packed were already eaten. AND I WAS HUNGRY.
But excuses are a dime a dozen (cheaper, actually, when you consider the effects of our government's recent printing fad). I ate a McDonald's product -- the symbol of obesity on a global scale. That's where desperate people go to eat when they can't find an In-N-Out OR a Jack in the Box. I really blew it this time. And it did not make the two mile run back any easier, either.
But why does this warrant a blog post? Why talk about yet another failure? Am I just writing this because I've run out of ways to procrastinate on my debate assignment that's due tomorrow morning? (Yes, but only in part).
Really, I've been thinking about this since Wednesday when I ate that garsh-awful imitation dead-cow. I let myself off the hook too often. I indulge a little too much. I say "just this once" a lot more than once! (This is not to say that I haven't eaten my pet elephant's weight in carrots and boiled string peas, because I have . . . I've just eaten a lot of other stuff, too).
Weekends are the hardest, of course. When everyone's having a good time, eating, talking, eating . . . Let's face it, all I ever notice is that they're eating. Stuff I can't have. That's when I'm put to the test (and when I most often give myself a hall pass). I'm not really pushing myself! Not really saying 'no!' So then what was the point of any of this?
Just watched an episode of Common Law (exactly like Psyche except not as funny). The white guy was on a cleanse where he only drinks that green stuff (you know what I'm talking about) and at the end he caves in and eats like chicken wings or something dumb. That's always how it ends. They always cave. They give in!
I don't want that to be me. I don't want there to be so many exceptions to my rules that the rules don't matter. That would be like using a cup with holes in it or trying to play musical notes on a paper with no lines. I'm stepping up my game.
Peddle to the metal, here. Go big or go home. Live free or die hard! This just got real.
Also, I don't actually own a pet elephant.
Genesis 25:34
"Then Jacob gave Esau some bread and some lentil stew. He ate and drank, and then got up and left. So Esau despised his birthright."
It shouldn't be a huge deal because this definitely is not the first time that I broke my self-imposed, incredibly stupid one-ounce rule
But excuses are a dime a dozen (cheaper, actually, when you consider the effects of our government's recent printing fad). I ate a McDonald's product -- the symbol of obesity on a global scale. That's where desperate people go to eat when they can't find an In-N-Out OR a Jack in the Box. I really blew it this time. And it did not make the two mile run back any easier, either.
But why does this warrant a blog post? Why talk about yet another failure? Am I just writing this because I've run out of ways to procrastinate on my debate assignment that's due tomorrow morning? (Yes, but only in part).
Really, I've been thinking about this since Wednesday when I ate that garsh-awful imitation dead-cow. I let myself off the hook too often. I indulge a little too much. I say "just this once" a lot more than once! (This is not to say that I haven't eaten my pet elephant's weight in carrots and boiled string peas, because I have . . . I've just eaten a lot of other stuff, too).
Weekends are the hardest, of course. When everyone's having a good time, eating, talking, eating . . . Let's face it, all I ever notice is that they're eating. Stuff I can't have. That's when I'm put to the test (and when I most often give myself a hall pass). I'm not really pushing myself! Not really saying 'no!' So then what was the point of any of this?
Just watched an episode of Common Law (exactly like Psyche except not as funny). The white guy was on a cleanse where he only drinks that green stuff (you know what I'm talking about) and at the end he caves in and eats like chicken wings or something dumb. That's always how it ends. They always cave. They give in!
I don't want that to be me. I don't want there to be so many exceptions to my rules that the rules don't matter. That would be like using a cup with holes in it or trying to play musical notes on a paper with no lines. I'm stepping up my game.
Peddle to the metal, here. Go big or go home. Live free or die hard! This just got real.
Also, I don't actually own a pet elephant.
Genesis 25:34
"Then Jacob gave Esau some bread and some lentil stew. He ate and drank, and then got up and left. So Esau despised his birthright."
Monday, July 2, 2012
Life comes first
Statistics say that nearly every woman in America will at some point in her life be on a diet of some kind. That means every woman has at some point looked at herself in the mirror and thought, "Crud." But more than that, it means every woman has at least tried to pass on the cupcakes, said no to second-helpings (which is hard if the first helpings were made by an Italian woman) or chosen cheerios instead of fruit loops.
These types of decisions are brutal. Made ten times worse when you find yourself at the Del Mar Fair, haven of delicious, lethally tempting foods (expensive, also, but that adjective is less on-point).
Now, I rarely go to the fair. Maybe once every three years or so. My family used to be involved in 4-H so we'd go a lot when I was a small child to show our pigs (yes, you read that right), but that was ages ago. Truth is, there's something magical about the fair that is just hard to describe (although, let's be honest, "chocolate covered bacon" is a good place to start). Gorgeous exhibits, almost-funny vendors, pig races and monster truck derby, livestock and cowboy hats, sawdust and lemonade and sunburned faces. And, of course, the Ferris Wheel, lit up like a firework, towering above a colored labyrinth of games that are impossible to win and rides that are impossible to afford.
But the reason people go to the Del Mar Fair is to eat. The BBQ ribs, the turkey legs, the funnel cakes and ice cream miracles, the chocolate covered bacon and deep fried zucchini are all part of what makes the fair the Fair.
I was wandering around an art exhibit when I noticed a painting of a young woman looking at herself in the mirror. Even the unsteady brush-strokes couldn't mar the look of familiarity. Everyone knows how it feels to see their reflection and scrutinize it - whether it's your face or your life's choices or your haircut or your attitude. We are our own worst critics (sometimes that's a good thing).
But the painting very clearly depicted a shriveled, skinny woman and the mirror reflected someone very large. Sad.
It became a little clearer to me why some of my friends are overly concerned with other people's eating habits (though I still stand by my opinion that society is just too judgmental in every direction). More often than we realize, our personal goals take a dangerously high priority in our lives. And I'm not just talking about wanting to be "skinny" (whatever that is). I know people who are die-hard health nuts who do everything by the book and are careful to exercise enough to balance out what they eat and eat what will help them exercise better, etc. Breaking routine: unthinkable. I know people who are study-nuts! Always putting books before buddies. I know a lot of people who don't put life first.
I won't be the one to assume or judge (you all already know how I feel about judging!) but I'll definitely be the first to say: I needed a little life in my diet.
So I ate red-velvet funnel cake and had ribs and frozen lemonade at the fair. I even had an ice-cream cone dipped in chocolate and a plate of bacon pasta. No, it was more than one ounce. Today I'm back to my fruit and my food scale.
Life doesn't come in one ounce portions. It's not fat-free or sugar-free or dietary. Generally, mixed in with all life's broccoli, there are chunks of chocolate-chip, deep-fried, probably-will-kill-your-pancreas goodness. Eat it up. No regrets.
These types of decisions are brutal. Made ten times worse when you find yourself at the Del Mar Fair, haven of delicious, lethally tempting foods (expensive, also, but that adjective is less on-point).
Now, I rarely go to the fair. Maybe once every three years or so. My family used to be involved in 4-H so we'd go a lot when I was a small child to show our pigs (yes, you read that right), but that was ages ago. Truth is, there's something magical about the fair that is just hard to describe (although, let's be honest, "chocolate covered bacon" is a good place to start). Gorgeous exhibits, almost-funny vendors, pig races and monster truck derby, livestock and cowboy hats, sawdust and lemonade and sunburned faces. And, of course, the Ferris Wheel, lit up like a firework, towering above a colored labyrinth of games that are impossible to win and rides that are impossible to afford.
But the reason people go to the Del Mar Fair is to eat. The BBQ ribs, the turkey legs, the funnel cakes and ice cream miracles, the chocolate covered bacon and deep fried zucchini are all part of what makes the fair the Fair.
I was wandering around an art exhibit when I noticed a painting of a young woman looking at herself in the mirror. Even the unsteady brush-strokes couldn't mar the look of familiarity. Everyone knows how it feels to see their reflection and scrutinize it - whether it's your face or your life's choices or your haircut or your attitude. We are our own worst critics (sometimes that's a good thing).
But the painting very clearly depicted a shriveled, skinny woman and the mirror reflected someone very large. Sad.
It became a little clearer to me why some of my friends are overly concerned with other people's eating habits (though I still stand by my opinion that society is just too judgmental in every direction). More often than we realize, our personal goals take a dangerously high priority in our lives. And I'm not just talking about wanting to be "skinny" (whatever that is). I know people who are die-hard health nuts who do everything by the book and are careful to exercise enough to balance out what they eat and eat what will help them exercise better, etc. Breaking routine: unthinkable. I know people who are study-nuts! Always putting books before buddies. I know a lot of people who don't put life first.
I won't be the one to assume or judge (you all already know how I feel about judging!) but I'll definitely be the first to say: I needed a little life in my diet.
So I ate red-velvet funnel cake and had ribs and frozen lemonade at the fair. I even had an ice-cream cone dipped in chocolate and a plate of bacon pasta. No, it was more than one ounce. Today I'm back to my fruit and my food scale.
Life doesn't come in one ounce portions. It's not fat-free or sugar-free or dietary. Generally, mixed in with all life's broccoli, there are chunks of chocolate-chip, deep-fried, probably-will-kill-your-pancreas goodness. Eat it up. No regrets.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
If you give a girl a cookie
(I feel the need to preface this entire post by letting every know that I've been craving a bean burrito for two weeks and my coworker just brought one in and sat down next to me to eat it. I moved.)
So if you give a girl a cookie ... If you give ME a cookie, there is only one reliable outcome. Anyone who's been in the newsroom past midnight during production week knows that if you give me a cookie it does not necessarily help me meet deadline any faster (tends to have the opposite effect, generally), and except for helping to evade a few stress-induced breakdowns, cookies don't really improve my frame of mind either. Sometimes my fingers loosen up and I work a little faster (with more typos) and sometimes I just start craving milk and can't do any more work until I've had some (the 7-11 run usually puts us another half hour behind). Sometimes I just sit in a chair and stare at the floor and whimper, "Picas. Whyyyyy?"
But always, always, if you give me a cookie, I will ask for a second one.
They say sugar is addicting and I totally agree. But I think, more than that, food is addicting (to some people). We don't live in a hunter/gatherer society where everyone subsists on grass and apple cores. We don't go for weeks without meat or bread. We don't live in India where clean drinking water is miles away. It's not a chore to eat -- something you do to stay alive, because you have to, no matter how good or bad the food tastes. You need it.
In America food is so plentiful, so affordable and of so much variety that it has almost become a way of life, rather than a means for life. Consumption? Right? We've all heard that term cynically thrown about when refering to Americans. Asking for a second cookie would seem like the obvious, most natural reaction (especially if it's a really good cookie). But as I discovered two summers ago when I went without sugar for 90 days, having access to good food can distort your appreciation of it. People begin "wolfing" their food instead of eating it -- whether or not they're even tasting it at all becomes almost an entirely different question.
(I'm reminded of the scene in Winnie the Pooh where Pooh gets stuck in Rabbit's front door - hilarious - and when Rabbit confiscates his honey he says, "But Rabbit! I don't want to eat it, I just want to taste it." We all know that's impossible. You can't taste without eating.)
Last night my family went to the beach to do hot dogs and s'mores. I said 'no' to the chips and the sodas and the bonfire-burnt sausages, but when they passed out the chocolate dribbled cookies... Well. I had one. (No judgement, folks. It was my favorite kind. I'm human, too.)
I spent about four minutes slowly picking that cookie apart, letting each flavor sit on my tongue before it finally disolved completely. And I thought to myself, Wow, that was a really good cookie. Consumerist instinct tells me there are plenty more cookies left so I should have another (a fact my mother confirms while gently shaking the package of confections.)
Normally, when you give a girl a cookie, she will ask for a second one. This time I didn't. Because I agree with Pooh - it is possible to taste and enjoy without eating in excess.
So if you give a girl a cookie ... If you give ME a cookie, there is only one reliable outcome. Anyone who's been in the newsroom past midnight during production week knows that if you give me a cookie it does not necessarily help me meet deadline any faster (tends to have the opposite effect, generally), and except for helping to evade a few stress-induced breakdowns, cookies don't really improve my frame of mind either. Sometimes my fingers loosen up and I work a little faster (with more typos) and sometimes I just start craving milk and can't do any more work until I've had some (the 7-11 run usually puts us another half hour behind). Sometimes I just sit in a chair and stare at the floor and whimper, "Picas. Whyyyyy?"
But always, always, if you give me a cookie, I will ask for a second one.
They say sugar is addicting and I totally agree. But I think, more than that, food is addicting (to some people). We don't live in a hunter/gatherer society where everyone subsists on grass and apple cores. We don't go for weeks without meat or bread. We don't live in India where clean drinking water is miles away. It's not a chore to eat -- something you do to stay alive, because you have to, no matter how good or bad the food tastes. You need it.
In America food is so plentiful, so affordable and of so much variety that it has almost become a way of life, rather than a means for life. Consumption? Right? We've all heard that term cynically thrown about when refering to Americans. Asking for a second cookie would seem like the obvious, most natural reaction (especially if it's a really good cookie). But as I discovered two summers ago when I went without sugar for 90 days, having access to good food can distort your appreciation of it. People begin "wolfing" their food instead of eating it -- whether or not they're even tasting it at all becomes almost an entirely different question.
(I'm reminded of the scene in Winnie the Pooh where Pooh gets stuck in Rabbit's front door - hilarious - and when Rabbit confiscates his honey he says, "But Rabbit! I don't want to eat it, I just want to taste it." We all know that's impossible. You can't taste without eating.)
Last night my family went to the beach to do hot dogs and s'mores. I said 'no' to the chips and the sodas and the bonfire-burnt sausages, but when they passed out the chocolate dribbled cookies... Well. I had one. (No judgement, folks. It was my favorite kind. I'm human, too.)
I spent about four minutes slowly picking that cookie apart, letting each flavor sit on my tongue before it finally disolved completely. And I thought to myself, Wow, that was a really good cookie. Consumerist instinct tells me there are plenty more cookies left so I should have another (a fact my mother confirms while gently shaking the package of confections.)
Normally, when you give a girl a cookie, she will ask for a second one. This time I didn't. Because I agree with Pooh - it is possible to taste and enjoy without eating in excess.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Never say 'Diet'
Explosions, weeping, skyscrapers crumbling to the ground. Imagine a herd of stampeding water buffalo (or watch The Lion King) coming straight for you - no understanding that they should stop, that you'll get hurt, that Simba's dad will die...
That's a little bit what I feel like every time I tell someone I'm on a diet. And it doesn't matter how I phrase it.
"It's a nutrition plan."
"I just want to get healthy."
"It's not about how I look, it's about how I feel." (<--definitely not totally true.)
"I ran out of money to buy more than one ounce of food a day. Bummer, right?"
People judge. I had NO IDEA people could be SO JUDGY. (I made up that word. Please forgive.) In a society where obesity is obviously a major problem, I don't understand why girls who do not appear to be overweight get picked on for trying lose weight. Like society is the know-it-all when it comes to each individual and the size they feel most comfortable with.
Just look at Kate Middleton. Gorgeous, fit, athletic. You know people were saying before her wedding that she was anorexic? Women in Hollywood get blasted for putting on a few pounds and for losing a few pounds. The magazines tie it to "mental breakdowns" or insecurity issues or whatever they have to, true or not. (I know this because it's all I see these days when I'm standing in line with my 4 lbs of fruits/vegetables at VONS around 10 p.m.).
So I'm going to say this once on this blog, and only once. (I promise). I think people need to lighten up. Seriously.
Staying in shape (or even just staying at a healthy weight) is difficult for anyone, and even harder for certain people. And while I understand that there are health concerns involved in any diet or exercise plan, I think too many people put on the "doctor" hat (I know they don't wear hats - bear with me) before even considering to put on the "friend," "cheerleader" or "support group" hat.
I don't want to point fingers or accuse good intention-ed people of ruining my day (after half a bag of carrot sticks, its not like it was shaping up to be a thriller anyway). But I do want to suggest that people, society, internet trolls or whoever happens to actually be reading this, take a look at their own actions. It isn't just what goes in our mouth that makes us healthy or sick, it's what comes out.
I know that many people need someone with the "doctor" hat to help them out. Many people use diets incorrectly and unhealthily. Many people do have insecurity issues. Instead of questing, accusing or dissenting the individual's decision, we should be looking to that person's actual needs and acting as servants, as Christ would have us act. How can we edify, uplift and support this person - maybe not in their decision about diets or "health plans" but at least in their life and their walk.
James 3: 7-8
"7 All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and sea creatures are being tamed and have been tamed by mankind, 8 but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison."
That's a little bit what I feel like every time I tell someone I'm on a diet. And it doesn't matter how I phrase it.
"It's a nutrition plan."
"I just want to get healthy."
"It's not about how I look, it's about how I feel." (<--definitely not totally true.)
"I ran out of money to buy more than one ounce of food a day. Bummer, right?"
People judge. I had NO IDEA people could be SO JUDGY. (I made up that word. Please forgive.) In a society where obesity is obviously a major problem, I don't understand why girls who do not appear to be overweight get picked on for trying lose weight. Like society is the know-it-all when it comes to each individual and the size they feel most comfortable with.
Just look at Kate Middleton. Gorgeous, fit, athletic. You know people were saying before her wedding that she was anorexic? Women in Hollywood get blasted for putting on a few pounds and for losing a few pounds. The magazines tie it to "mental breakdowns" or insecurity issues or whatever they have to, true or not. (I know this because it's all I see these days when I'm standing in line with my 4 lbs of fruits/vegetables at VONS around 10 p.m.).
So I'm going to say this once on this blog, and only once. (I promise). I think people need to lighten up. Seriously.
Staying in shape (or even just staying at a healthy weight) is difficult for anyone, and even harder for certain people. And while I understand that there are health concerns involved in any diet or exercise plan, I think too many people put on the "doctor" hat (I know they don't wear hats - bear with me) before even considering to put on the "friend," "cheerleader" or "support group" hat.
I don't want to point fingers or accuse good intention-ed people of ruining my day (after half a bag of carrot sticks, its not like it was shaping up to be a thriller anyway). But I do want to suggest that people, society, internet trolls or whoever happens to actually be reading this, take a look at their own actions. It isn't just what goes in our mouth that makes us healthy or sick, it's what comes out.
I know that many people need someone with the "doctor" hat to help them out. Many people use diets incorrectly and unhealthily. Many people do have insecurity issues. Instead of questing, accusing or dissenting the individual's decision, we should be looking to that person's actual needs and acting as servants, as Christ would have us act. How can we edify, uplift and support this person - maybe not in their decision about diets or "health plans" but at least in their life and their walk.
James 3: 7-8
"7 All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and sea creatures are being tamed and have been tamed by mankind, 8 but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison."
Thursday, June 21, 2012
She Bought Vegetables
I think it's important to begin by saying...One ounce is a very small amount of food. As in, my sister's hamster would scoff at the amount of morsel that is.
I bought a scale to weigh my food. I hate it. (Actually, I love it. It's stainless steel and lightened my pocket book by about $30 and it's really small and cute). I'm convinced it doesn't like me and secretly add's an 1/8 ounce to everything I weigh. Spiteful.
(Confession: I occasionally go over 1 ounce, like when I discovered that peanut butter adds an extra 0.4 ounces to my 0.9 ounce piece of bread. . . I'm not eating toast without peanut butter. Not happening. You may say, "Mary, you can't break your own rules!" to which I'll reply, "What rules? You mean the ones I arbitrarily created. Watch me arbitrarily break them! I'm still eating less than my sister's hamster!")
We've established: I don't eat much during "meal times" and that makes the workday seem like someone dropped a whale on top of me. And fruit doesn't fill the way you'd think it would. Disappointing.
So I bought vegetables.
Lots of them, really. I raided a VONS at like 9 o'clock last night and bought romaine lettuce, green bell peppers, cucumbers, carrots, grapes (not a vegetable, I know) and string peas.
I've mastered salad-making. (Secret: I use apples and dried cranberries.) I eat salads at work. I eat salads at home. I go for 5 miles, do some chin ups, drink lemon water to keep myself from vomiting up my one ounce meals and then ... I eat salad.
One ounce is not a lot of food and I know there are those of you who are still freaking out on my behalf. I want you to know that (A.) I freak out enough on my own so...Yeah. That department is covered (Please see any of my latest facebook profile pictures for substantive evidence). And (B.) I can eat fruits/vegetables whenever I want. And I do. Happily.
(The picture is actually my sister's hamster. His name is spitwad and he hisses at me in the mornings.)
Psalm 19:14
"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, oh LORD, my rock and my redeemer."
(Confession: I occasionally go over 1 ounce, like when I discovered that peanut butter adds an extra 0.4 ounces to my 0.9 ounce piece of bread. . . I'm not eating toast without peanut butter. Not happening. You may say, "Mary, you can't break your own rules!" to which I'll reply, "What rules? You mean the ones I arbitrarily created. Watch me arbitrarily break them! I'm still eating less than my sister's hamster!")
We've established: I don't eat much during "meal times" and that makes the workday seem like someone dropped a whale on top of me. And fruit doesn't fill the way you'd think it would. Disappointing.
So I bought vegetables.
Lots of them, really. I raided a VONS at like 9 o'clock last night and bought romaine lettuce, green bell peppers, cucumbers, carrots, grapes (not a vegetable, I know) and string peas.
I've mastered salad-making. (Secret: I use apples and dried cranberries.) I eat salads at work. I eat salads at home. I go for 5 miles, do some chin ups, drink lemon water to keep myself from vomiting up my one ounce meals and then ... I eat salad.
One ounce is not a lot of food and I know there are those of you who are still freaking out on my behalf. I want you to know that (A.) I freak out enough on my own so...Yeah. That department is covered (Please see any of my latest facebook profile pictures for substantive evidence). And (B.) I can eat fruits/vegetables whenever I want. And I do. Happily.
(The picture is actually my sister's hamster. His name is spitwad and he hisses at me in the mornings.)
Psalm 19:14
"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, oh LORD, my rock and my redeemer."
Monday, June 18, 2012
Don't start on a Monday
I should have known, really. I should have seen it coming.
Starting ANYTHING that is in any way challenging or difficult on a Monday is a bad idea. This particular Monday was a mammoth of a bad day and ... I'm a comfort eater.
Now, don't get me wrong, I held my guns.
One ounce breakfast. Done. Almost delicious, even. I was still smacking organic, natural peanut butter from my teeth when I stepped into work at 8 a.m. this morning.
Within two hours my entire day was falling apart at the seems, but I thought to myself, Hey, you're sticking to your diet and you haven't even broken into the fruit yet. You can do this!
The fruit I brought, which was mesmerizingly good, held me over until about 3 o'clock when my boss asked me to put the impossible (no, literally) on her desk by Tuesday morning, at which point I thought to myself, more fruit.
Alas! All gone.
So when my mom held out a plate of steaming, homemade lasagna and garlic cheese-bread, dripping in butter and said, "Honey, this is the last time our whole family will be together for a year. Are you sure you don't want to eat something?" I said . . .
Who starts on a Monday anyway???
Proverbs 27:1
"Do not boast about tomorrow,
for you do not know what a day may bring."
Starting ANYTHING that is in any way challenging or difficult on a Monday is a bad idea. This particular Monday was a mammoth of a bad day and ... I'm a comfort eater.
Now, don't get me wrong, I held my guns.
One ounce breakfast. Done. Almost delicious, even. I was still smacking organic, natural peanut butter from my teeth when I stepped into work at 8 a.m. this morning.
Within two hours my entire day was falling apart at the seems, but I thought to myself, Hey, you're sticking to your diet and you haven't even broken into the fruit yet. You can do this!
The fruit I brought, which was mesmerizingly good, held me over until about 3 o'clock when my boss asked me to put the impossible (no, literally) on her desk by Tuesday morning, at which point I thought to myself, more fruit.
Alas! All gone.
So when my mom held out a plate of steaming, homemade lasagna and garlic cheese-bread, dripping in butter and said, "Honey, this is the last time our whole family will be together for a year. Are you sure you don't want to eat something?" I said . . .
Who starts on a Monday anyway???
Proverbs 27:1
"Do not boast about tomorrow,
for you do not know what a day may bring."
Saturday, June 16, 2012
A new, more challenging . . . Challenge
It's been two years since I've even looked at this blog (though honestly it seems like it's been a lot longer) and the twenty-some pounds I've gained since high school are making me feel like spending so much time in the college cafeteria may not have been such a good idea.
Last time I gave myself a food challenge it was to test my self control. This time I am unashamedly going to admit that I just need to get back into a size-7 jeans.
Also, last time I challenged myself (to not eat sugar from June 1-August 31) I promised myself I would never do that again (kind of like God promising never to flood the earth again, but instead of putting a rainbow in the sky, I just downed 4 quarts of mountain dew in about one hour).
So this time I got a little creative. We all know it isn't what you eat that matters, it's how much. One cheese puff will not kill anyone. A bag of cheese puffs, consumed on a frequent basis, can have adverse effects, however.
Here's the challenge: 1 ounce meals.
Okay, health nuts, don't freak out. We all know there's no way I'm going to pull that off. And most of us know that I really only make rules so that I can create a whole bunch of exceptions to go with them. So here they are:
1. I can eat fruit/vegetables whenever I want.
2. Obviously, no snacking during the day, but I can eat "snack foods" if they fit the weight limit during appointed meal times.
3. (Until I get a weigher thingy) meals probably will be more than one ounce -- they will, however, be small enough to fit on our baby plates. Going to stick with a "spirit of the law" rather than "letter of the law" mindset here. *ahem*
4. On days when I embark on particularly strenuous adventures (hiking, long-distance running) I reserve the right to at least eat a cliff bar (most likely, it will be more than that).
5. Exceptions are subject to change depending on how the first week of this goes.
6. I can eat fruit/vegetables whenever I want. (Had to say that twice. It's important.)
I'm starting on Monday. (For those who'd like to know, I am half-way through a bag of peanut butter M&Ms right now. Delish.) So yeah... Monday.
I will post pictures as often as possible of the food I get to eat and will update this blog on the trials of ... not eating.
And finally, to add to this challenge, I'm going to find a Scripture verse for every blog post. I'm a comfort eater which got me into this in the first place (I'd like to remind you of the bag of chocolate I'm demolishing currently) and the only real comfort comes from God. Weening myself off inordinate amounts of food will only have temporary results if I don't also cultivate a taste for the sweetness of Christ during those times when hot potato-bacon soup with cheese and sour cream seems like the only way to drown my sorrows.
Philippians 4 (NIV)
"6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."
Last time I gave myself a food challenge it was to test my self control. This time I am unashamedly going to admit that I just need to get back into a size-7 jeans.
Also, last time I challenged myself (to not eat sugar from June 1-August 31) I promised myself I would never do that again (kind of like God promising never to flood the earth again, but instead of putting a rainbow in the sky, I just downed 4 quarts of mountain dew in about one hour).
So this time I got a little creative. We all know it isn't what you eat that matters, it's how much. One cheese puff will not kill anyone. A bag of cheese puffs, consumed on a frequent basis, can have adverse effects, however.
Here's the challenge: 1 ounce meals.
Okay, health nuts, don't freak out. We all know there's no way I'm going to pull that off. And most of us know that I really only make rules so that I can create a whole bunch of exceptions to go with them. So here they are:
1. I can eat fruit/vegetables whenever I want.
2. Obviously, no snacking during the day, but I can eat "snack foods" if they fit the weight limit during appointed meal times.
3. (Until I get a weigher thingy) meals probably will be more than one ounce -- they will, however, be small enough to fit on our baby plates. Going to stick with a "spirit of the law" rather than "letter of the law" mindset here. *ahem*
4. On days when I embark on particularly strenuous adventures (hiking, long-distance running) I reserve the right to at least eat a cliff bar (most likely, it will be more than that).
5. Exceptions are subject to change depending on how the first week of this goes.
6. I can eat fruit/vegetables whenever I want. (Had to say that twice. It's important.)
I'm starting on Monday. (For those who'd like to know, I am half-way through a bag of peanut butter M&Ms right now. Delish.) So yeah... Monday.
I will post pictures as often as possible of the food I get to eat and will update this blog on the trials of ... not eating.
And finally, to add to this challenge, I'm going to find a Scripture verse for every blog post. I'm a comfort eater which got me into this in the first place (I'd like to remind you of the bag of chocolate I'm demolishing currently) and the only real comfort comes from God. Weening myself off inordinate amounts of food will only have temporary results if I don't also cultivate a taste for the sweetness of Christ during those times when hot potato-bacon soup with cheese and sour cream seems like the only way to drown my sorrows.
Philippians 4 (NIV)
"6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."
Monday, August 30, 2010
One More Day!
Woah! Just one day left! That happened fast!
I feel like people have stopped reading this blog (which is why I haven't been posting as much - at least in part), probably because they've lost interest or because ... I haven't been posting much (this feels somewhat circular.)
Believe me, I would be telling you all my sugar conflicts on community college campus were it not for the fact that ... I'm at community college all the time now. (Again, circular?)
Just know that, while I've slipped up a few times this summer, especially toward the end here, I haven't quit. I've basically gone without sugar for three months.
Things that I haven't had for 90 days?
Coke/Rootbeer/Pepsi/Dr. Pepper/etc
Cookies or brownies of any kind
Ice Creeeeeeeaaaaaaam
Cake
Caramel
Starbucks Frappaccinos
Milkshakes
It's funny, on Saturday I volunteered at my School's Bible Bee (the local level of the National Bible Contest for our area). Last year I was a competitor and there was a huge cake. I couldn't eat any because in September of last year I was doing a one-month version of this summer's no sugar project. Back then I thought to myself, next year I will be able to eat this cake.
Guess what.
It goes without saying that I've learned a lot doing this no sugar thingy... Sometimes food just tastes better when you're not eating it. I definitely remember more of my summer because every ice cream date with friends, every bag of candy in the theaters, every soda at a picnic was one I couldn't have (as opposed to "just another coke/ice-cream/etc"). It all stands out more, like those moments with food this summer have been highlighted and catagorized and filed away in my head. Which was kind of the point of this whole thing anyway - I was bored and wanted to make summer interesting.
But I've also realized that sometimes sugar makes things better. A life of lemons without sugar can only be made into lemonwater. Likewise, sometimes it's important to OTHER people that you join them in the fun. Sometimes "sweet" is exactly what you need.
Interesting how God foresaw human weakness and gave them a temporary, physical treatment (outside His Written Word).
___
So what am I doing on Wednesday? I'm waking up at the crack of dawn to go to school - for breakfast I'll eat cheesecake that has been frozen for over a month and a half.
When I get home Wednesday night I'm cookin' up some bacon and dipping it in chocolate (watch for the pictures on fb.)
Then I'm having a HUGE bowl of ice-cream with all the toppings.
And I'm never going back.
___
Thanks for following guys, you've been great.
Cheers.
I feel like people have stopped reading this blog (which is why I haven't been posting as much - at least in part), probably because they've lost interest or because ... I haven't been posting much (this feels somewhat circular.)
Believe me, I would be telling you all my sugar conflicts on community college campus were it not for the fact that ... I'm at community college all the time now. (Again, circular?)
Just know that, while I've slipped up a few times this summer, especially toward the end here, I haven't quit. I've basically gone without sugar for three months.
Things that I haven't had for 90 days?
Coke/Rootbeer/Pepsi/Dr. Pepper/etc
Cookies or brownies of any kind
Ice Creeeeeeeaaaaaaam
Cake
Caramel
Starbucks Frappaccinos
Milkshakes
It's funny, on Saturday I volunteered at my School's Bible Bee (the local level of the National Bible Contest for our area). Last year I was a competitor and there was a huge cake. I couldn't eat any because in September of last year I was doing a one-month version of this summer's no sugar project. Back then I thought to myself, next year I will be able to eat this cake.
Guess what.
It goes without saying that I've learned a lot doing this no sugar thingy... Sometimes food just tastes better when you're not eating it. I definitely remember more of my summer because every ice cream date with friends, every bag of candy in the theaters, every soda at a picnic was one I couldn't have (as opposed to "just another coke/ice-cream/etc"). It all stands out more, like those moments with food this summer have been highlighted and catagorized and filed away in my head. Which was kind of the point of this whole thing anyway - I was bored and wanted to make summer interesting.
But I've also realized that sometimes sugar makes things better. A life of lemons without sugar can only be made into lemonwater. Likewise, sometimes it's important to OTHER people that you join them in the fun. Sometimes "sweet" is exactly what you need.
Interesting how God foresaw human weakness and gave them a temporary, physical treatment (outside His Written Word).
___
So what am I doing on Wednesday? I'm waking up at the crack of dawn to go to school - for breakfast I'll eat cheesecake that has been frozen for over a month and a half.
When I get home Wednesday night I'm cookin' up some bacon and dipping it in chocolate (watch for the pictures on fb.)
Then I'm having a HUGE bowl of ice-cream with all the toppings.
And I'm never going back.
___
Thanks for following guys, you've been great.
Cheers.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Mountain Don't
My first week of college is over. It was a nightmare in a 1/2 acre radius.
Being late to my first class wasn't awful. Being laughed at for not knowing what a scantron is wasn't totally humiliating. Forgetting my student ID number and losing my spot in a half hour line for student picture IDs wasn't completely inconvenient (no. I take that back. It was.).
But nothing was as horrible as standing in the cafeteria and not knowing what to do. There was food and people everywhere and I had no idea what was going on.
I guess homeschooling has it's draw-backs.
I finally figured out the system and sat down next to some kid who had a massive cookie and a Mountain Dew. I eyed the soda jealously. I was running low on energy anyway (my flight from Prague landed in LAX at 7 - it was 11:30 before I got home - 1AM before I was in bed - and then I was up five hours later getting ready for my first class.)
I definitely bent the "no sugar" rule in the Czech Republic - some of that was necessary. But I have not had a drop of soda for three months. Believe me when I say, that Mountain Dew looked holy -- as in, it glowed and I could hear the Hallelujah Chorus in the background.
But I stuck to my guns. I had a bottled water.
In two weeks, I'm hitting that cafeteria with the force of a stampeding elephant. And this time, I'll Mountain Do.
Being late to my first class wasn't awful. Being laughed at for not knowing what a scantron is wasn't totally humiliating. Forgetting my student ID number and losing my spot in a half hour line for student picture IDs wasn't completely inconvenient (no. I take that back. It was.).
But nothing was as horrible as standing in the cafeteria and not knowing what to do. There was food and people everywhere and I had no idea what was going on.
I guess homeschooling has it's draw-backs.
I finally figured out the system and sat down next to some kid who had a massive cookie and a Mountain Dew. I eyed the soda jealously. I was running low on energy anyway (my flight from Prague landed in LAX at 7 - it was 11:30 before I got home - 1AM before I was in bed - and then I was up five hours later getting ready for my first class.)
I definitely bent the "no sugar" rule in the Czech Republic - some of that was necessary. But I have not had a drop of soda for three months. Believe me when I say, that Mountain Dew looked holy -- as in, it glowed and I could hear the Hallelujah Chorus in the background.
But I stuck to my guns. I had a bottled water.
In two weeks, I'm hitting that cafeteria with the force of a stampeding elephant. And this time, I'll Mountain Do.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Sugar-Coated Confessions
For you, dear followers, I will be honest.
I ate a ton of chocolate last week. Now, I was true to my word and I didn't have any "American Sugars" but the Czechs are notorious for their chocolate and it was EVERYWHERE and by the end of my last week in Europe, eating chocolate actually became essential to survive (I know, you don't believe me. I guess you had to be there...).
Point is, I am unashamed.
I am also back to not eating sugar of any kind (and I'm sooooo happy to be back on US soil.)
But for the last two weeks of this "no sugar" thing, I'm raising the bar. No sugars and no sodas were a given. Now I'm moving to no seconds and no snacks (which should be extra tough now that I've started my college classes and meals are hard to come by but snack food is everywhere.)
Furthermore, I'm getting rid of my exceptions (INCLUDING WHIPPED CREAM). Anything that COULD BE SUGAR I will not eat. That includes muffins and sweet breads, syrups, and juices. Anything in snack form, like chips or trail mix, will be left alone. Anything not provided during regular "meal time" will not be partaken of. I'm going hard-core here, guys.
GO BIG OR GO HOME.
Join me? Feel free.
Let's do this thing!
I ate a ton of chocolate last week. Now, I was true to my word and I didn't have any "American Sugars" but the Czechs are notorious for their chocolate and it was EVERYWHERE and by the end of my last week in Europe, eating chocolate actually became essential to survive (I know, you don't believe me. I guess you had to be there...).
Point is, I am unashamed.
I am also back to not eating sugar of any kind (and I'm sooooo happy to be back on US soil.)
But for the last two weeks of this "no sugar" thing, I'm raising the bar. No sugars and no sodas were a given. Now I'm moving to no seconds and no snacks (which should be extra tough now that I've started my college classes and meals are hard to come by but snack food is everywhere.)
Furthermore, I'm getting rid of my exceptions (INCLUDING WHIPPED CREAM). Anything that COULD BE SUGAR I will not eat. That includes muffins and sweet breads, syrups, and juices. Anything in snack form, like chips or trail mix, will be left alone. Anything not provided during regular "meal time" will not be partaken of. I'm going hard-core here, guys.
GO BIG OR GO HOME.
Join me? Feel free.
Let's do this thing!
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Czech out the Soda!
Apparently, Czech soda is super different than American Soda. As in .. Not as good.
Now, I haven't had any "American Sugar" since I've been here. No snickers bars, no coke, etc. But I've had Czech Cocolada and Czech Soda and it's all been quite an experience. I almost don't want to come home in ten days because I know I'll be coming home to two weeks of absolutely no sugar or snacks or seconds at all (and believe me, I've had my share of second and third helpings this trip.)
Also, you have to pay to use the restroom here. And sometimes they give you a reciept. Welcome to Europe!
Now, I haven't had any "American Sugar" since I've been here. No snickers bars, no coke, etc. But I've had Czech Cocolada and Czech Soda and it's all been quite an experience. I almost don't want to come home in ten days because I know I'll be coming home to two weeks of absolutely no sugar or snacks or seconds at all (and believe me, I've had my share of second and third helpings this trip.)
Also, you have to pay to use the restroom here. And sometimes they give you a reciept. Welcome to Europe!
Sunday, July 25, 2010
From Prague!
I'm writing this post from Prague, Czech Republic! Don't expect too many of these.
We started off on our eleven hour plane ride in LAX and I was coming off an all-nighter. No sleep + 11 hours of also no sleep = ABSOLUTE INSANITY AND HEAD TRAMA.
Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean I vaguely recall having food placed in front of me. There was a square of chocolate and a cup of cheeseca-aaaahh. I remember thinking "I am not supposed to eat this" but everything after that is blank. I'm pretty sure I ate it.
While in Prague, I've stayed away from "American sugars" like cookies, candies, and brownies, but I have eated some of the "Native Deserts." Let's face it - I'll never be in Prague again, I might as well.
When we landed in Prague I thouht that it would only be fitting that the first thing I purchase in a European country would be a meal from McDonalds - the rest of the team was stopping there to chow down. I sat at a table and contemplated eating American food.
Then I fell asleep.
We started off on our eleven hour plane ride in LAX and I was coming off an all-nighter. No sleep + 11 hours of also no sleep = ABSOLUTE INSANITY AND HEAD TRAMA.
Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean I vaguely recall having food placed in front of me. There was a square of chocolate and a cup of cheeseca-aaaahh. I remember thinking "I am not supposed to eat this" but everything after that is blank. I'm pretty sure I ate it.
While in Prague, I've stayed away from "American sugars" like cookies, candies, and brownies, but I have eated some of the "Native Deserts." Let's face it - I'll never be in Prague again, I might as well.
When we landed in Prague I thouht that it would only be fitting that the first thing I purchase in a European country would be a meal from McDonalds - the rest of the team was stopping there to chow down. I sat at a table and contemplated eating American food.
Then I fell asleep.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Cheeseca-aaaahh!
Cheesecake. It's stalking me. No seriously.
I have always loved cheesecake. But I only see it (let alone eat it) maybe once a year. Possibly twice if I'm extremely lucky. And yet, somehow, during the three-month period that I CANNOT EAT IT, it has suddenly appeared everywhere.
You may recall that I recently froze a piece of cheesecake for the fall. Not long after the execution of that more than brilliant idea I was invited to a party at the Cheesecake Factory. The first part of the evening was lovely (so were the waiters), but the second was grueling (so where the heels I was wearing.)
It may (or may not) be slightly obvious that the Cheesecake Factory only serves one thing for dessert . . . CHEESECAKE (or as we shall refer to it from now on: cheeseca-aaaahh!! in a very whiny and sort of unpleasant tone, because that's how I feel when I see cheesecake.) While everyone else ordered their deluxe cheeseca-aaaahhs, I was sitting in the corner (the corner farthest away from the outdoor heater, with the puddle of water run-off right below my feet) sipping my cappaccino and trying not to look grumpy.
Lucky for me, no one wanted the whip cream that came with their cheeseca-aaaahhs (which, you may recall, is my only exception), so my cappiccino quickly became a whipcreamo (which spellcheck is saying is a real word...).
About a week ago (new story here) I attended a homeschooling leadership conference with my mom up in Pasadena. I won't tell you how we got lost for two hours in the middle of the night and ended up in San Bernadino, or how we asked random, sketchy looking strangers for directions. I won't even tell you that our hotel had awesome vallets who couldn't speak english ... at all. But I will mention that, for dessert during their big brunch, they served cheeseca-aaaahh.
And what did I do with this cheeseca-aaaahh?
I'll tell you.
I mashed it up on the plate and swirled it into the raspberry sauce until it was a henious shade of chartruesse (which I spelled correctly on the first try!) and then heaped it back onto the gramcracker crust. When the waiter came to clear my plate he said slowly and with as much tact as possible, "...Are you done, Ma'am?" To which I replied slowly and with as much dignity as possible, "Yes."
Here's the truth guys,
I'm failing miserably. I ate a piece of Angel Food Cake. I had a pina colada (x3). And I've been snacking and seconding this whole month. It's discouraging.
But I'm still going. I've said "no" more than I've said "weeell...okay, if you insist."
Tomorrow I'm leaving for the Czech Republic where I'll be continuing my "no sugar" thing. When I come back, we just have TWO MORE WEEKS and then it's back to life as normal. And I'll finally get to eat that piece of frozen cheeseca-aaaahh.
I have always loved cheesecake. But I only see it (let alone eat it) maybe once a year. Possibly twice if I'm extremely lucky. And yet, somehow, during the three-month period that I CANNOT EAT IT, it has suddenly appeared everywhere.
You may recall that I recently froze a piece of cheesecake for the fall. Not long after the execution of that more than brilliant idea I was invited to a party at the Cheesecake Factory. The first part of the evening was lovely (so were the waiters), but the second was grueling (so where the heels I was wearing.)
It may (or may not) be slightly obvious that the Cheesecake Factory only serves one thing for dessert . . . CHEESECAKE (or as we shall refer to it from now on: cheeseca-aaaahh!! in a very whiny and sort of unpleasant tone, because that's how I feel when I see cheesecake.) While everyone else ordered their deluxe cheeseca-aaaahhs, I was sitting in the corner (the corner farthest away from the outdoor heater, with the puddle of water run-off right below my feet) sipping my cappaccino and trying not to look grumpy.
Lucky for me, no one wanted the whip cream that came with their cheeseca-aaaahhs (which, you may recall, is my only exception), so my cappiccino quickly became a whipcreamo (which spellcheck is saying is a real word...).
About a week ago (new story here) I attended a homeschooling leadership conference with my mom up in Pasadena. I won't tell you how we got lost for two hours in the middle of the night and ended up in San Bernadino, or how we asked random, sketchy looking strangers for directions. I won't even tell you that our hotel had awesome vallets who couldn't speak english ... at all. But I will mention that, for dessert during their big brunch, they served cheeseca-aaaahh.
And what did I do with this cheeseca-aaaahh?
I'll tell you.
I mashed it up on the plate and swirled it into the raspberry sauce until it was a henious shade of chartruesse (which I spelled correctly on the first try!) and then heaped it back onto the gramcracker crust. When the waiter came to clear my plate he said slowly and with as much tact as possible, "...Are you done, Ma'am?" To which I replied slowly and with as much dignity as possible, "Yes."
Here's the truth guys,
I'm failing miserably. I ate a piece of Angel Food Cake. I had a pina colada (x3). And I've been snacking and seconding this whole month. It's discouraging.
But I'm still going. I've said "no" more than I've said "weeell...okay, if you insist."
Tomorrow I'm leaving for the Czech Republic where I'll be continuing my "no sugar" thing. When I come back, we just have TWO MORE WEEKS and then it's back to life as normal. And I'll finally get to eat that piece of frozen cheeseca-aaaahh.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Chocolate Nightmares
I'll be honest. I've been avoiding this blog. On purpose. No regrets. . . Actually, I do have regrets - I'm way behind.
Truthfully, I've been having chocolate-covered nightmares (believe it or not, they're real.)
On more than one night (three to be exact) in the past week and a half I have dreamt (which spellcheck is telling me isn't a real word -- ironically, it's also saying 'spellcheck' isn't a real word) I was eating some kind of chocolate. The first night it was a snickers bar and all my friends were mocking me for woosing out on my no sugar deal. The second and third times they were just huge slabs of chocolate that I DEVOURED. And the whole time I felt terrible because I was eating sugar when I shouldn't be!
And then I woke up.
I think the "troublesome" "inconvenient" and "painful" stages have past - we are now in "crazy as in 'INSANE' and you are going to become mentally unstable."
Over the next few days I will (hopefully) catch you up on some good stories. Then I will depart for the Czech Republic on a 3-week mission's trip. I will continue my no soda/no sugar thingy there (with discretion: if it's culturally related, I might bend the rule seeing as I'll probably never be in Czech again.)
When I return I will crank up the burners for the last two weeks! I will go HARDCORE! I will enforce my no snacks/no seconds portion (which I have not been enforcing ... AT ALL this month) and I will scratch the "conscience line" and just not eat anything with sugar in it at all. including cereal. and bread. . . maybe. I don't know about bread yet. We'll see.
ANYWAY. It's going to be big. Just wait.
Till then, sweet dreams.
Truthfully, I've been having chocolate-covered nightmares (believe it or not, they're real.)
On more than one night (three to be exact) in the past week and a half I have dreamt (which spellcheck is telling me isn't a real word -- ironically, it's also saying 'spellcheck' isn't a real word) I was eating some kind of chocolate. The first night it was a snickers bar and all my friends were mocking me for woosing out on my no sugar deal. The second and third times they were just huge slabs of chocolate that I DEVOURED. And the whole time I felt terrible because I was eating sugar when I shouldn't be!
And then I woke up.
I think the "troublesome" "inconvenient" and "painful" stages have past - we are now in "crazy as in 'INSANE' and you are going to become mentally unstable."
Over the next few days I will (hopefully) catch you up on some good stories. Then I will depart for the Czech Republic on a 3-week mission's trip. I will continue my no soda/no sugar thingy there (with discretion: if it's culturally related, I might bend the rule seeing as I'll probably never be in Czech again.)
When I return I will crank up the burners for the last two weeks! I will go HARDCORE! I will enforce my no snacks/no seconds portion (which I have not been enforcing ... AT ALL this month) and I will scratch the "conscience line" and just not eat anything with sugar in it at all. including cereal. and bread. . . maybe. I don't know about bread yet. We'll see.
ANYWAY. It's going to be big. Just wait.
Till then, sweet dreams.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Life's Lemons
I am currently hungry and riding a sugar low (which I've basically been in all summer in various degrees of intensity) so I decided to talk about life's lemons. Life has a lot of them. There are several lemons sitting on my counter, in fact (real lemons, not hypothetical ones.)
The following items are a result of the new July impositions:
1. I'm hungry.
2. I only had one bowl of spaghetti tonight (which I'm fairly disgruntled about).
3. I'm having trouble phrasing sentences because I can't picture words in my head without envisioning them all dribbled in chocolate sauce.
4. I suddenly have a craving for peanuts (a craving a didn't have in June when I could have eaten them.)
5. We are suddenly out milk... (that doesn't actually relate to the nutrition program but it's definitely affecting my mood.)
6. When I close my eyes, I imagine myself falling into piles and piles of potato chips and tapioca pudding FOREVER AND EVER.
7. I'm hungry.
My Mom decided to turn some of those lemons on our counter into lemonade this afternoon. What a great way to segue into my schpiel about making life sweet! . . . Oh wait. You can't make lemonade without SUGAR. This week better tumble over quickly...
also.
I REALLY WANT ICE-CREAM!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Cheesepuffs, Please
Tomorrow is the first day of July (for those of you so isolated in your Summer Enjoyment that you've lost track of the months) and with it comes the second part of my test of self-control: No Snacks/No Seconds. I'd like to focus on the former part of this.
No snacks, while not nearly as rough as 'no sugar', posses it's own problems - mostly because I foolishly used snacky foods (which I don't normally eat) as a crutch to replace my cookie crutch. Now I have no crutch at all and I'm concerned as to how that will effect the rest of my summer.
I drowned my misery at the prospect of no more French Onion Sun Chips for the summer in a bag of borrowed cheesepuffs and quickly inhaled all of them.
I feel like this may have been counter-productive (like going to a bar before attending your first AA meeting) but I also feel like I needed a proper "send-off" before plunging into a desert of carrot sticks and boiled celery.
Oh well.
Also, I should mention that today I wrapped a piece of cheesecake in tinfoil and stuck it in the back of the freezer in my garage. Call me pathetic; I just hope it's still there in September when I go back for it.
No snacks, while not nearly as rough as 'no sugar', posses it's own problems - mostly because I foolishly used snacky foods (which I don't normally eat) as a crutch to replace my cookie crutch. Now I have no crutch at all and I'm concerned as to how that will effect the rest of my summer.
I drowned my misery at the prospect of no more French Onion Sun Chips for the summer in a bag of borrowed cheesepuffs and quickly inhaled all of them.
I feel like this may have been counter-productive (like going to a bar before attending your first AA meeting) but I also feel like I needed a proper "send-off" before plunging into a desert of carrot sticks and boiled celery.
Oh well.
Also, I should mention that today I wrapped a piece of cheesecake in tinfoil and stuck it in the back of the freezer in my garage. Call me pathetic; I just hope it's still there in September when I go back for it.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Too Much Corn
It's hard for me to find snacks that are not "sugary." In the past my fall-backs for stomach fillers have been things like toffee covered peanuts and those pink and white animal crackers with the sprinkles ... mMm. Anyway, the point is that I've had to make alterations to my snack foods and it hasn't been going so well.
While watching the World Cup with my brother and grandma (yes, she's the most awesome grandma ever for following international soccer) I decided to make popcorn.
I've never made popcorn before.
I was doing the legit kind - not the fake stuff you microwave - I was really going to put kernels in a pot and pop them. And it would be awesome. But then it wasn't.
The trouble with popcorn is that it's difficult to tell when you have enough kernels in the pot to produce a sufficient amount of fluffy stuff. I had a big pot so I figured if I just had enough to cover the bottom I'd be good. I poured the kernels into the hot oil and lidded the pot. And then I waited. I shook the pot a little bit. And waited.
Then, all at once, the whole thing EXPLODED. There was popcorn everywhere! It was all I could do to keep the lid on the pot. Then I tried to pour some of the popped corn into a bowl to make room for the rest of the kernels to puff. Unfortunately, my grandma's old-fashioned burner stove that uses real flames and the tasseled dish rag I was using to hold the pot handles didn't get along so well.
Next thing I knew my rag was in flames and the corn just kept coming. I threw the rag into the sink of dirty dish water and slammed the knob on the stove to turn off the burner.
The final tally was more than two full bowls worth of popcorn (of which I ate an entire one all by myself ... still slightly ashamed of that,) one dead rag, and nobody any the wiser of what had happened (they were all too busy watching the USA get cheated out of an other-wise great game.)
My only consolation is that in four years when we play at the World Cup again, I'll know how to properly pop corn.
Actually, scratch that. In four years I'll be back to candied peanuts and pink animal crackers with sprinkles.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Whipped-Cream
Every rule needs an exception. In Paramore's song (introduced to me by a friend on the four hour drive up to a Palm Nursery in Santa Barbara) "the only exception" - the exception is Love. In my sugarless summer, the exception is whipped cream.
You'll notice that I stated "every rule NEEDS an exception" - not has or should have. Every rule NEEDS an exception (are you beginning to see a pattern in my 'law-abiding' tendencies?)
Anyway, I spent the last week in Santa Barbara working at a Palm Nursery. In the evenings, the crew would go to a coffee shop in town called "Jitters." Jitters has a lot of appealing aspects - the native Santa Barbara art work on the walls; the 'up-and-coming' artists, hopefuls, and creative types that sat quietly at the tiny tables; the large, warm-yellow mugs they used for coffee; the free-internet...
The drink list was extensive and delicious looking. Espresso and chocolate were the two most used ingredients. I stuck to my guns and didn't have anything sugary. But as they handed me my sugar-free toffee latte, I realized that I needed an exception. So I asked for whipped cream. And I got it. It was delightful.
Is my conscience trouble? No. Is my sugarfree program ruined? Not at all. In fact, I discovered as I drove back down to San Diego, listening to Paramore on my friend's ipod and licking the whipped cream off my sugarfree starbucks vivanno, that exceptions are like whipped cream: they are good for the soul. And so is Santa Barbara. I want to go back there.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Let Them Eat Cake
"Graduation Season" is almost over, and with it go the parties, the ceremonies, the celebratory mini-golf outings at 11PM ... and the cake.
Those of you who've also been going without sugar have probably realized that "Grad Season" was not the best time to start such an event. Literally one week after I cut off my sugar intake I was confronted with sweet treats of every kind - including the MASSIVE left-over graduation cake that has been sitting in my fridge for over 8 days (I know, I'm not sure if it's even good anymore...)
For those of you who broke down and had a slice, don't worry about it - cake is my weak spot too. Don't be afraid to jump back in with the rest of us and start fresh!
For those of you who had cupcakes slammed in your faces (I would be part of this group) and managed to NOT lick the icing off your faces, congratulations. I'm proud of you.
And for those of you who've decided where your "Sugar Line" is, who've said 'no' to your "Cookie Crutches" for the past 2 and 1/2 weeks, who've walked half a block to find a water fountain instead of just drinking a coke, and who've sat in front of the fridge with the door open staring at a huge, fluffy, white cake (again, I would be part of this group), thanks for sticking in there with me.
I have a feeling that, even without the sugar, this is going to be a good summer.
Those of you who've also been going without sugar have probably realized that "Grad Season" was not the best time to start such an event. Literally one week after I cut off my sugar intake I was confronted with sweet treats of every kind - including the MASSIVE left-over graduation cake that has been sitting in my fridge for over 8 days (I know, I'm not sure if it's even good anymore...)
For those of you who broke down and had a slice, don't worry about it - cake is my weak spot too. Don't be afraid to jump back in with the rest of us and start fresh!
For those of you who had cupcakes slammed in your faces (I would be part of this group) and managed to NOT lick the icing off your faces, congratulations. I'm proud of you.
And for those of you who've decided where your "Sugar Line" is, who've said 'no' to your "Cookie Crutches" for the past 2 and 1/2 weeks, who've walked half a block to find a water fountain instead of just drinking a coke, and who've sat in front of the fridge with the door open staring at a huge, fluffy, white cake (again, I would be part of this group), thanks for sticking in there with me.
I have a feeling that, even without the sugar, this is going to be a good summer.
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