Weighty Matters

I was at the salon earlier this evening getting a manicure and pedicure.  My hairstylist and my nail tech are also friends.  While one worked on my feet, and I enjoyed the massage of the pedi chair, my hairstylist friend was waiting for her next client.  She’s signed up for an online dating service and was asking us for input on what age range she should put in, how much difference there is between “regularly” and “socially” in terms of drinking alcohol, etc.   I’m 20 years older than she is so my idea of an acceptable age range for me is different than for her, but she asked me anyway.

My standard response is that I don’t date any guy I’m old enough to have given birth to.  I honestly don’t know what I consider “too old”.  When I was 39, I dated someone who was 53.   A guy in that age difference range to me now would be on Medicare.  Not that there’s anything wrong.  I know some vibrant, sexy people who are in their mid-to-upper 60s.  It just seems strange to me sometimes to remember that I’m going to be 55 on my next birthday.

Back to the whole dating thing.  I haven’t dated in years.   Yes, I firmly believe that men who truly are attracted to obese women are in short supply.  This does not mean they don’t exist.  There are blog readers and commenters here who could testify to the fact that they do and they’re wonderful guys.

Unfortunately, they’ve been in short supply in my life, even moreso over the last several years.  By and large, I’m okay with this absence of a love relationship.  It is what it is and I refuse to be someone who is miserable, dissatisfied, and unappreciative of the wonderfulness of life because I don’t have a guy.

In the course of the conversation this evening, it dawned that as I lose more weight and shape up more with my fitness regime, I might actually meet someone who is interested in dating me.   If I do, someone else might have to point it out because I’m pretty much oblivious to the cues.  Be that as it may, I’m not sure how I’ll react if someone flirts or asks me out.  I’m not adverse to the idea of dating or even having a relationship.  At least, I don’t think that I am.  It’s been so long since I considered the possibility, that I honestly don’t know what I want.

I’m sure not up for the idea of joining a dating site.

After pondering this tonight, I’ve decided that I honestly don’t have to stress over a hypothetical situation.   Perhaps all I need to do right now is agree to be open to considering the idea if it happens.

When I used to binge or fall off the food plan wagon, I’d stay down for a while.  If I’d abstained from compulsive overreating for a while, sometimes these binges were huge and I stayed in relapse a lonnnng time.  It is much easier to stay on the horse than remount.

As discouraging as it can be for me to slip and screw up my food plan now, it is very encouraging that I appear able to get myself back on track fairly quickly.  I’ve already bounced back from the bread binge.  As planned, I’ve chosen foods that are easier on my stomach.  Take today, for example.  I started with a protein drink for breakfast.  I had a few roasted peanuts as a mid-morning snack.  At lunch I had some homemade tomato soup.  In the last afternoon, Greek yogurt and strawberries made a nice snack.  Tonight’s dinner — a few forkfuls of lowfat egg salad and some homemade broccoli soup with a sprinkling of low fat cheddar.  For an evening treat, I ate a Skinny Cow ice creamish sandwich.

At no time did I eat compulsively or overdo my portions.  Not only do I feel physically better, but my emotional state balanced out a good bit, too.  Booyah!

This was my first effort at making broccoli soup.  It was “Organics share delivery day” at work and my share included some fresh, organic broccoli.  I love broccoli soup, but usually it’s made with cream and lots of cheese.  I went online to find a soup recipe that nixed the cream.  I figured I could cut back on the cheese myself without reading instructions.   I also bought myself an immersion (aka stick) blender.  Love this gadget!  It works, it’s easy and it’s smaller which makes for easier storage.

The soup turned out reasonably yummy.  I have a couple of small, single-portion containers in the fridge and a larger container in the freezer for the future.  Looks like I’m set for the next few days!

Lessons learned:  Falling off the wagon might hurt, but it doesn’t have to keep you down.  Don’t use a screw up as an excuse to give up.  If you fall off of the wagon and don’t climb back in, you can’t start moving forward again.

Something to remember.

You readers of a certain age, did you think I meant Trigger food as in oats and hay?  🙂

Neigh, my friends.  I mean foods that trigger me to eat compulsively or binge.   In the past, which I could refer to as B.B., or Before Bariatric surgery, and the years when I was in the grip of the worst of my compulsive eating, almost any food could trigger me to eat and eat and eat.  On the short list of non-triggers foods were mushrooms, any form of seafood, raw tomatoes unless in salsa, and liver.    Foods that I don’t like do not spur me to eat more of them.  Imagine that!

Foods I like?  Forget it.   One bite is both too many and never enough.   Pizza was always a big binge food.  I could tell myself six ways upside down that I would limit myself to two slices, but if I was alone in the house with a pie, I would pick and pick and pick at it alll night long.  Four or five slices would make me miserably uncomfortable but that wouldn’t stop me as I washed down still more with gulps of soda.  A few hours later, after the quantities shifted around and digested a bit, I could follow it all with a pint of ice cream.

Other binge foods — really good bread.  Pie.  Yorkshire pudding.  A certain kind of chocolate cake.  Fried chicken, even if it’s really the cripsy, greasy skin that is most tasty.

Disgusting.  It’s not like these foods made me feel good.  After the first portion, I don’t think I ever actually tasted the rest of any of them.  Here’s why I think they’re called trigger foods.  Once you pull the trigger on a gun, you can’t stop the bullet – at least not until it slams into something and its power is completely absorbed.  Unfortunately, in the years B.B., my stomach wasn’t big enough to stop the binge once it fired off.

Things are different now.  I would physically get sick before I could binge that much on pizza.  I can eat one small slice and that’s all.  Anything more would overload my capacity.   I managed to limit myself to one small piece when I was out at a function this weekend. However, I still don’t trust myself around pizza, at least not enough to risk ordering even a small pie into the house if I’m alone.   I am very much afraid that compulsion would overtake me and I would pick-pick-pick at the cheese and toppings until I’d overeaten to the point of illness.

I can practically hear some of you thinking, “Oh come on, Mary.  You’re doing so great.  You’d never succumb to a trigger food!”

Thanks for the votes of confidence, but I could, I would, I did.   For the life of me, I don’t know how I rationalized a food decision yesterday, but here’s what happened.  I was on my way home from the morning function at work when I passed a bakery advertising Fresh Bread Baked Daily.  Earlier in the morning, I’d put two containers of soup out to defrost.  In the few seconds that it took to drive by that sign, my lightning-fast thoughts told me, “Asmallsliceofbreadwithhothealthysoupwon’thurt.Thisisn’tgoingtobeaproblem.Freshbakedbreadwouldbesoawesome.Goforit.”

Yeah, before I got a block beyond the storefront, I’d whipped my car around and pulled into the parking lot.  Where were the lightning-fast thoughts I needed to talk me out of this poor choice?  Smothered under a pillow, held in place by the compulsion.   I ate the first small bit when I got back into the car.  I tore off another corner when I got home.  I sure didn’t eat big chunks at a time, but over time, the series of small bits added up to one uncomfortably overfull stomach pouch.

The discomfort in my stomach didn’t come close to the dis-ease in my head.  I thought about it a lot and finally agreed with what I already knew.  A trigger food is a trigger food is a trigger food and no 30% stomach pouch in the world will combat it on its own.  I’ve said along that the surgery is only a tool.  The real work is in the head and I still have a lot of work to do.

So, this was an excellent lesson.  I need to continue to be vigilant and set myself up for success, not failure.  Just like I know better than to order a pizza when I’m alone, I now know that fresh baked bread is not something I can safely keep in the house.  I’m okay when I’m with other people.  I can and have eaten a single small piece of good bread when out socially, but that’s it.  I’m adopting that same approach to my other known trigger foods.  Keeping them out of the house puts up a good layer of defense between me and the compulsive drive.

I’m going to spend time this week remembering other trigger foods.  Reacquainting myself with these items will shore up my defenses against the impulse to buy and eat them when I’m tempted.

My stomach’s felt rough and achy since the drawn out binge-y episode yesterday. I’m going to baby it for a few days. Protein shake in the morning, yogurt at lunch, soup for dinner — without bread.

By the way, when I woke up this morning, I looked at what remained and made a strong move to protect myself.  I picked it up, marched outside and threw it in the trash at the curb.  Can’t trigger a binge without ammunition.  In this case, none was better than half a loaf.

More to the point, I’m cooking.  I’ve already told you about Saturday’s roasted butternut squash soup and yesterday’s baked applesauce.  You’d think those would have been enough to satisfy the need to not let great produce go to waste.  Not quite.  Apparently, this also triggered a need to keep cooking.  I had five bananas going brown and then a friend at Tai Chi gave me some more from his tree.  I already have some bananas cut and frozen for smoothies in my freezer and was truly worried that the  ones on the counter would be wasted.

Undaunted, I turned to the web and did a search for healthy banana bread recipes.  I found several which included less than a cup of sugar and not much fat because each included a third of a cup of plain, low fat yogurt.   The recipe that really caught my eye also included a third of a cup of creamy peanut butter and two tablespoons of chopped peanuts.

I had to debate myself, weighing the protein benefits of peanut butter and peanuts with the extra fat.  Nuts are good fats, I argued.  Plus, the leftover yogurt I had wasn’t low fat, it was no fat.  The only bad fat in the recipe came via two measly tablespoons of melted butter.

Guess who won the debate?  The peanut butter-loving me.

You might ask, what the hell am I doing baking banana bread of any kind when I’m following a low carb diet?  Why am I creating this kind of temptation when I’m doing so well?

Damned if I know.   Perhaps I’m testing my own resolve and proving to myself that I can, indeed, eat even a freshly-made yummy baked treat like a “normal” person.

Maybe I just want a piece of banana bread.

I didn’t have a full size loaf pan, so I split the batter into two smaller, one-use aluminum loaf pans.  If the finished product tastes good, I will immediately take one of the loaves into work.  That halves the problem right off the bat.

I am also making a commitment to myself, stating it publicly here, that I will not compulsively overeat the remaining banana bread.  I will eat a healthy, food plan-appropriate dinner.  Then, a couple of hours later I will treat myself to one small slice of banana bread.  I will eat it slowly, enjoying each bite.  When I finish the slice, that’s it.  No going back for seconds an hour later just because room opens up in my stomach and the bread is in the house.

If, at any time, I feel myself getting out of control and compulsively reaching for little extra bites here and there, I will pour dishwashing liquid over the remaining bread, take the pan out of my house, and throw it into the trash can.

That’s my promise and I’m sticking to it!

In keeping with my desire to recognize good things, happenings, developments, I’ve been holding a feeling close.  Today was one fine day.

I slept in a little, with the cooperation of the furkids Nat and Pyxi.  When I rolled out of bed and went outside, I saw that we’d been gifted with bright sunshine with a slight breeze.   I decided not to waste this present.  After breakfast I got my things together and went out on the boat.

It was the first time I’d been out on it in several weeks due to uncooperative weather, other commitments, vacation, etc.  First off I was just relieved that everything was in good working order.  You never know with a boat.  I cruised through the harbor, exchanging “captain waves” with folks on other boats and soaking up the beauty.  Once out past the last channel marker, I powered up and in short order had my boat skimming across the turquoise swells while I soaked up the sun and salt air.

While I love meeting up with friends at the sand bar or going out fishing, I can also content myself with excursions like this, when all I do is cruise around for awhile surrounded by sky and sea.  Joy fills me up and expands through my smile.  90 minutes of fun and pure pleasure.

After I arrived home and rinsed off the boat, I headed indoors to cook up a recipe I’d printed out yesterday.  I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I get a share each week in an organic produce buying club.  Even though I buy the smallest share, appropriately called a Mini, it’s still often too much for me to consume everything.  That’s why I made the butternut squash soup, half of which is in small containers in the freezer.  Last week’s share included several small, sweet Gaia apples and plouts.  I didn’t want these to go to waste, so I decided to make applesauce.  What I don’t eat, I can also freeze for another time.  Once more I turned to the Barefoot Contessa aka Ina Garten for an applesauce recipe that included orange and lemon juice, cinnamon, all spice and a little bit of brown sugar.  Even though she suggests other varieties of apples, I went with what I had and added in the plouts.

When everything was peeled, cored, quartered, spiced, tossed and in the oven to bake, I changed into a bathing suit and grabbed my iPod.  For the next 40 minutes I danced my little ol’ heart out in the pool.  I worked in a few Zumba moves, and did several reps of crunches and leg lifts too.  I take so much joy and appreciation in being able to move, that the exercise doesn’t feel the least bit tedious.

I got out of the pool and stepped into a house delicious scented with apples and cinnamon.  Checked the time and realized I had time to shower.  After that, the applesauce was done and it was time to slide in a couple of meaty turkey thighs so that I’d have protein not only for dinner tonight, but for several meals over the next few days.

One can never underestimate the pleasure of a nice nap, so while the poultry baked, I indulged for half an hour.  Refreshed, I settled in to do some work for class and start organizing my thoughts for the first paper.  It isn’t due until next Sunday, but I have a busy week ahead and would rather get the first draft done tomorrow.  I can then think about it some more and tweak as necessary.

After a delicious dinner, I checked out the television guide and discovered that an old favorite movie was airing.  I’ve lost count of the number of times that I’ve seen E.T., but I still love it as much as I did when it was first released back in the early 80s.  That last scene in the forest when they’re saying goodbye always gets to me.  I weep every time.  This movie features great storytelling, beautifully acted and it’s a classic as far as I’m concerned.

With the movie over and my tears blotted, I played around a bit with Nat and Pyxi, checked in on email and some other Internet business  and then settled in to write this blog post.   Now I’m ready for bed.  It’s been a full day, for sure, but a supremely fine one on all accounts.  Like sunshine warmed my skin earlier, contentment and happiness warm my spirit.

I hope you all had good days too!