Foodittudes

I don’t do anything by halves. I don’t eat low fat cookies, I don’t use margarine (the devil’s butter), I put sour cream and butter on my baked potatoes and bagels. I never understood the point of eating something that isn’t what you want to be eating. I’d rather go without than eat some half-assed knockoff which doesn’t even taste like the real thing. The only problem there is the ‘going without’ part.

There are a few exceptions to my ‘go big or go home’ rule: I drink skim milk and eat Hellman’s Light Mayonnaise. I’ve been doing that for a long time. Skim milk tastes shitty when you’re coming off whole or even 2%. But you do get used to it, and if you love milk and want to drink it every day, wean yourself down to it. It’s worth it. Don’t try going directly from whole to skim for God’s sake; that’s like giving up coke and going to five hour energy drinks.

Oh, and watch out, I tried a certain company's Low Fat Mayo, not the same as their Light, and I don’t know what they put in it but I tried it once and threw away an entire jar. It’s now officially The Devil’s Mayo.

So as I try to figure out after a half-century how to eat healthier and still enjoy being alive, I’ve come to the conclusion that you have to have some stuff you like sometimes, or like a million people out there, you start out all motivated and ‘I can do this’ and a week later you’ve got your head buried in a gallon of ice cream like a horse with a feed bag. That’s so me.

I got a pre-diabetic diagnosis about fifteen years ago; very high triglycerides paired with low good cholesterol, and my doctor freaked me out so much you’re going to have a heart attack that I walked three miles a day seven days a week for a year and lost 40 pounds. I never felt better, people told me how great I looked, and then just one day, the wheels came off the cart. I just stopped. Any one out there experience this? How could I go from being so motivated, having a working routine that I incorporated into my daily existence, feeling good, being proud of myself, and then one day I don’t go and I’m just… done?

You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to see how much that mirrors the behavior of alcoholics and other addicts. It took me a while, but I get it. I’m an addict. My drug of choice does a lot less harm to others than it does to me, but it is an addiction. Some of us, either through nature, or nurture, or both, are predisposed to addictive behaviors. Some aren’t. And while it pains me to say so, I have an addictive personality and my drug of choice (yes, choice) has always been food. I’d like to believe that everyone, with the proper motivation and support, can overcome their addictions. And I could begin a dialogue about addiction as disease vs. choice. But that’s not what this blog is about. However one chooses to define it, I see myself as an addict; from the need as a child to steal food, to thinking about it all the time, to thinking about when I could next get some, to stuffing myself to bursting, to feeling shame and regret; you get the picture.

I don’t believe in diets. Whenever I have tried to ‘lose weight’ so I can ‘be attractive’,which is what you think it’s about when you’re young and sucked in by the not-so-subtle exhortations of the food and beauty industries, I’ve tried to do it through behavior modification. I’ve never once done a ‘diet’ per se. No pills, no plans, no programs. For me, I’ve always understood that real change has to be permanent and something you can live with. And there’s the catch. I’ve never found anything I can “live with.” For the record, I love healthy foods. I love salads, I love fresh fruits and vegetables, nuts, seeds, some fish and other fruits of the sea…I even like whole grain breads and oatmeal (we call it porridge). The only thing on that list I could stand as a child was fruit. My palate has matured, and I enjoy a lot of healthy food. The problem is that I eat what I want, when I want, as much as I want. And not all of it is good for me.

So here’s another piece that takes work: not just what you put in your mouth, but when, and how much. Some people assume that being fat means you are LAZY and that losing weight is EASY, and it’s really, really not. You have to care enough about yourself to invest time and energy in making it work, and making it work long-term is very hard. Especially if feelings of inadequacy and loneliness are the reasons why you overeat to begin with. And let’s face it, those feelings are the primary reason people engage in self-destructive behaviors to begin with, whether it’s drugs, booze, gambling, sex, food, you name it...

The beginning of anything is usually the easiest part, at least for me. You’re excited, you can usually see quick results (just by cutting out carbs and tracking calories, I’ve lost nine pounds in nine days, according to my scale), and the people who love you are on board – again – even after all the times you’ve failed. Sustaining working, effective changes over time is HARD. Because it never stops. And if you’re really trying but you still feel like every day sucks, or you still hate yourself, those changes won’t last. I’ll have much more to say about self-esteem, self-analysis, forgiveness (of self and others), and other musings germaine in upcoming writings.

This seems like a good time for one of my favorite concepts: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is the definition of madness.

So for the first time in my life, I’m doing things differently.

Number 1: there are people who love me and are counting on me. So in a real sense it’s not even about me anymore, although of course it is, too. I’ve always found it easier to support, defend, forgive, and motivate others than myself. That part is easy. But doing it for me? I’m in my 50s, which when you’re young seems unbelievably old and inconceivably far off. Then BAM! you’re here, and you realize (shit!) there’s less time than there used to be, and you start having trouble hearing what your kids are saying in the car, and you can’t read the small print on the tv screen, and you start making cartoon noises when you get up from a chair. And your damn hips hurt. And suddenly, time seems short. And you realize there’s so much more you want to do, and all the while THE END is roaring toward you like a freight train. So, yes, I’m doing it for me. I’m worth it. Ageing is a real eye opener.

Number 2: I’m not trying to do this alone. Writing this blog opens the door to communication with others who have their own experiences to share. I hope it helps. I’m very confident right now, on day nine. Talk to me in a month.