I finally solved the riddle of my continuing struggle with weight (a struggle of the 20-lb. variety): I have Last Supper Syndrome. The scales (get it?....) fell from my eyes as this miserable month nears its end. I had decided that I'd use the last week of February to jump start the old weight-loss jalopy by being Queen of the Spartans until March 1, when I'd hew to a healthy and calorically reduced regimen. Then I thought it might be better to just wait until March 1 (fortuitously on a Monday) and start then, enjoying a personal Mardi Gras beforehand (which I guess would actually include not just a Fat Tuesday, but a Fat Wednesday through Sunday as well). This is when the scales (get it?....) actually fell. Since I've been vowing to start a diet at the beginning of each month for the past, oh, ten years (and that's 120 different vows, all made like they're the first one) and since I've succeeded about three times (for my 25th high school reunion, for a summer vacation I knew would involve being photographed, and another time I can't actually come up with but I'm giving myself credit for anyway), the Big Diet thing probably wasn't going to happen. In and of itself, that's probably not such a big deal. What is a big deal and is directly related to my big ass is the 120 Last Suppers.
You don't have to be Judas or the apostle Paul to have enjoyed a last supper, that smorgasbord of leftovers and snacks, drinks and desserts that is ritually consumed the night before. Under certain circumstances, the Last Supper might include the Last Lunch, the Last Breakfast, the Last Supper before the Last Supper, and so on (circumstances to be decided by whim). And this is what's killing me (not really, because I'm sure I'll drink myself to death before I eat myself there). So I've hereby vowed to not have a Last Supper again. I'd also like to get back to my four basic rules that I used to live by:
a) Don't eat in the car in case, God forbid, there's an accident. You don't want to be found dead with french fries in your mouth.
b) Spaghetti costs a dollar a pound. Shove the leftovers down the garbage disposal instead of down your throat.
c) You are not a garbage can and any food left on your children's plates is garbage.
d) Never leave the house in sweatpants.
For the past few years, I've thrown these rules by the wayside. I think I need them again. And I'm wrestling with myself to start right now and not wait until March 1st. I'm also trying to remember that what's (probably) more important is that I'm a woman with a heart as big as this ass.
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While I agree that food is an important part of the diet/exercise equation, if you don't add the fitness, all you will do is starve. I've got the food down (I eat well, try to control my portions, and try not to drink too much...). I work out with a trainer twice a week and it is just not enough exercise to dislodge all of the junk in my trunk. I need a treadmill. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteLove this topic. Inspires me to tell about my own coming-to-terms-with-my-middle-age-figure story....This valentines day my husband took me out for a romantic dinner. Since we don't do this so much lately, I made sure that I dressed up and wanted to look pretty for him. I wore a skirt that used to fit less snugly, but one which still worked, though it hugged my bigger curves closely, and a form fitting top that did not show bulges, but hugged my curvy topside too. The result was really amazing...I was curvier than I've ever been. Definitely have more of a middle-aged figure... but realized I looked beautiful. And I looked REAL. My curves were WOMANLY. I LIKED what I saw. I looked my age, but also very lovely. I felt wonderful. PLUS I got to eat my delicious creamed sauce pasta dish without worry!
ReplyDeleteThat night inspired me to come to terms with how I'm going to look from here on out. And here is a list of things I'm going to do and things I'm not.....
I'm NOT going to lose all of those 15 pounds I put on last year.
I'm also not going to put on an additional 10.
I am not going to step on the scale - who cares about the number. My fitness goal is to FEEL GOOD and ENJOY LIFE and make sure my clothes fit well. A few of my outfits are going to Goodwill, and I may have to buy a few extras.
I AM going to eat healthy because I feel better when I do.
I'll not use my (new) deep fryer too often, but will trot it out once in a while for fun.
I'll eat double veggie portions each night because it is good for me.
I'll eat lighter breakfasts and lunches, but will enjoy dinner.
I will NOT count calories.
I will enjoy a Friday cocktail
I will open a bottle of wine or two to enjoy starting at about Saturday at 4pm
Some Sundays I'll visit my favorite beer specialty store and will sample them all day Sunday while I watch a Seeker marathon with my husband.
I look at skinny women and think about how much pleasure I'd have to give up to look thinner. And I realize at this stage of my life my goal is to balance my health and my pleasure. If I can strike a good balance, then I've got a terrific life!
Oh I forgot. I believe in lots of exercise to cover your sins - do it often and rigorously. Then give yourself days off as a treat! The guilty pleasure of playing hooky isn't reserved for kids!
ReplyDeleteI'm with Mary and Jen about how exercise just has to be a part of life. And Mary, I love your new rules for living. I think I'll make them my own!
ReplyDelete