Lent -- A Re-examination: Help! The Doughnuts Are Looking At Me!
I know it's not officially the Lenten season yet. And I've two more days until my brand of fasting begins. But in the run up to Ash Wednesday I've been uncharacteristically bad.
I'm usually so conscientious about what I eat. Lots of whole grains, veggies galore, no sugar, no refined flour, sensible portions -- you know, boring. But I had to teach myself how to eat this way for my health. (a.k.a. The subsequent loss of a Backstreet Boy.) It's not foreign nor difficult for me, however odd and spartan it may seem to others.
But something flipped in my brain 'round about Christmas. I threw in the towel and surrendered to the jelly doughnuts... and the pie... and the eggnog, the casseroles, the stuffing, and the bread pudding... OHHH the bread pudding!
Still, I started back on my maintenance plan New Years Day... however half-heartedly. I kept my 4 workouts-a-week schedule, still ate okay, though more than I should have here and there...
And then came last week. Don't know what happened. Don't know what went wrong. Suddenly I'm eating for no reason. Whether I'm hungry or not. Stuffing junk into my face is not even pleasurable -- I don't get why I'm doing this. Maybe it's a novelty. Perhaps I'm bored. Possibly I'm trying to see how much I can punish myself come Ash Wednesday to prove my piety.
Dunno'.
What I do know is that I'm not fitting into my clothes very well and I'm starting to feel like a swollen buffalo.
So after eating vast quantities of Mexican inspired appetizers and artichoke dip on Super Bowl Sunday, I awoke this morning, vaguely hungry, and started my day with oatmeal and my usual coffee. But I remembered flavored oatmeal is more of a sugar speedball than a nutritious breakfast a little too late.
Now it's 5 seconds from breakfast, I'm starving, and there are cherry biscuits swimming in sugared lard staring me in the face. Boss says they're leftover from an early morning meeting. "Want some?"
The inquisition echoes through my brain.
"Want some?" Come on... have a bite. Just one. One warm, delicious, dripping bite of sugared, buttered, salty-sweet, fluffy, lard-cherried goo... Sink your teeth in... let it melt. See? Isn't that better? Don't you feel goooooood?
And when the cherry biscuit almost has me in it's velvet grip, the fog clears. Not because I'm particularly iron-willed. Not because I'm a sanitized health Nazi. Because I'm reminded that I had to wear my fat pants to work today. Because when I walk, my thighs are a little too close for comfort. Because swimsuit season is already blooming at Target.
Can I cry now?
I'm usually so conscientious about what I eat. Lots of whole grains, veggies galore, no sugar, no refined flour, sensible portions -- you know, boring. But I had to teach myself how to eat this way for my health. (a.k.a. The subsequent loss of a Backstreet Boy.) It's not foreign nor difficult for me, however odd and spartan it may seem to others.
But something flipped in my brain 'round about Christmas. I threw in the towel and surrendered to the jelly doughnuts... and the pie... and the eggnog, the casseroles, the stuffing, and the bread pudding... OHHH the bread pudding!
Still, I started back on my maintenance plan New Years Day... however half-heartedly. I kept my 4 workouts-a-week schedule, still ate okay, though more than I should have here and there...
And then came last week. Don't know what happened. Don't know what went wrong. Suddenly I'm eating for no reason. Whether I'm hungry or not. Stuffing junk into my face is not even pleasurable -- I don't get why I'm doing this. Maybe it's a novelty. Perhaps I'm bored. Possibly I'm trying to see how much I can punish myself come Ash Wednesday to prove my piety.
Dunno'.
What I do know is that I'm not fitting into my clothes very well and I'm starting to feel like a swollen buffalo.
So after eating vast quantities of Mexican inspired appetizers and artichoke dip on Super Bowl Sunday, I awoke this morning, vaguely hungry, and started my day with oatmeal and my usual coffee. But I remembered flavored oatmeal is more of a sugar speedball than a nutritious breakfast a little too late.
Now it's 5 seconds from breakfast, I'm starving, and there are cherry biscuits swimming in sugared lard staring me in the face. Boss says they're leftover from an early morning meeting. "Want some?"
The inquisition echoes through my brain.
"Want some?" Come on... have a bite. Just one. One warm, delicious, dripping bite of sugared, buttered, salty-sweet, fluffy, lard-cherried goo... Sink your teeth in... let it melt. See? Isn't that better? Don't you feel goooooood?
And when the cherry biscuit almost has me in it's velvet grip, the fog clears. Not because I'm particularly iron-willed. Not because I'm a sanitized health Nazi. Because I'm reminded that I had to wear my fat pants to work today. Because when I walk, my thighs are a little too close for comfort. Because swimsuit season is already blooming at Target.
Can I cry now?
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