Maybe you should take a look at that.
Every therapist I've ever had
Every therapist I've ever had
Well, of course, you're right [regarding yesterday's post] in saying e-mails and comments lack the human element and can be misunderstood. And we are hard enough on ourselves [although I sometimes dispute that one], so why pile it on? Like some of you, I want to say something helpful and constructive without being confrontational, but I don't want to sound like the bitch I sometimes am, so I back away.
A common theme running through many weight-loss blogs is "Why did I buy those [fill-in-the-blank] in the first place?"
I am sooooo freakin' guilty of this one.
And, at least for me, I think I've figured it out. This was quite a revelation when I started thinking about it.
When we start a weight-loss plan, one of the first pieces of advice is to toss all the goodies. Get rid of trigger foods, dump the sugary snacks, pour coffee grounds over the chips and push the rest of the crap down the garbage disposal.
So what happens next? We buy fruits and vegetables and lean meat and chicken breasts and we begin a lifetime of healthful eating. We sweat a little bit and, as time goes by, a little bit more. Sometimes a lot more. Sometimes we get obsessed with the sweating. [Who, me?]
And a month or two into the plan we find ourselves at the check-out counter with a bag of snack-sized Snickers bars in our cart. Okay, I'll just speak for myself.
Whatever it is, it's usually wrapped in cellophane, claims to have no trans-fats and sugar is the first ingredient. But who's reading the label? I just know it's been two months since I've had a treat and by golly, I deserve it!
Of course it rides in the passenger seat right beside me on the trip home. Now for me, this is a 20- to 30-minute drive, depending on if I'm the lead car or if I'm behind a coal truck. I can do a lot of damage in 20 minutes. After the damage is done, my first wail is, "Why did I keep this in the front seat with me?"
Not, "Why did I buy this in the first place?".
Because, you see, I really wanted it and needed it and craved it.
This sets up a self-destructive pattern where I connect being in the car by myself to eating forbidden fruit. Or chocolate. Or Wheat Thins. Pick your poison.
Now you may be out there thinking, "Well, no wonder she never loses any weight!" I might be thinking that, as well, if these little forays into the snack aisle resulted in a weight gain. But they don't. I've been the same weight, within five pounds, for a year now.
So where am I going with this? Maybe those experts who recommend not depriving yourself are right. Maybe I – okay, we – really should enjoy a guilt-free whatever every once in a while. The operative modifier there is "guilt-free." And "once in a while." When's the last time you savored a piece of fudge? Or enjoyed a brownie? How about pizza?
Until the Army Ten-Miler, I hadn't had a piece of real pizza in probably three years. [I don't count Lean Cuisine frozen as 'real.'] The night before the race, Mr. Shrinking Knitter and I went to California Pizza Kitchen. Because I had to have carbs, you know. Because I'd given myself permission to have that pizza [I recommend the Thai Chicken], I truly loved eating every bite. It was delicious! CPK serves "personal-sized" pizzas as big as dinner plates, but I didn't feel the need to eat it all; I was satisfied with half. And Mr. Shrinking Knitter was more than satisifed with his pizza and my other half. Heh.
I have stealth brownie and fudge stories, as well, but I'm sure you get the idea.
Obviously I'm still thinking things through. Yesterday was the beginning of the process; it took until the middle of the night to realize that one of the reasons I binge on red-light foods when I'm not at home is because there aren't any red-light foods at home. I'm still afraid that if there were, they'd be gone before the sun sets.
"Normal" people don't have these internal arguments. They buy or make a treat once in a while, they have a serving, and then they forget it's even in the pantry. Next time they put groceries away they find half a package of stale Doritos, which they promptly toss.
And they don't have to throw the coffee grounds on top of them.