It’s almost noon and I’ve already walked 7.9 miles, moved fifty-one bricks to different locations, and done three loads of laundry which entails traversing many, many stairs.
So why am I not losing weight? It might be all the food I’m eating.
A friend told me this morning you can eat anything you want and not gain weight; the key is eating only half of anything.
So, that brings me down to 2.5 brownies, three pieces of pizza, a fourth of a box of Wheat Thins, and half a hummus plate with the works. Before noon.
Still too much by anyone’s standards. Why do I eat so much? Lots of reasons.
First, emotional eating. I eat when I’m happy, lonely, depressed; mad. It doesn’t seem to make a difference.
Second, avoidance eating. Strange but true. I don’t avoid eating, but I do eat to avoid doing other things. Like drowning in my eighty-two-year-old father’s tangled finances. When he writes red-inked notes like “Solve, then pitch” in the margins of confusing insurance explanations, I just know it’s going to be an hour minimum of phone calls.
Third, procrastination eating. Although I don’t procrastinate eating—ha, ha like that would ever happen—I do eat when I’m restless, bored, and while not exactly avoiding writing (Oh, I want to write that last chapter…), sometimes I can’t seem to sit my derrière at my desk and do it. So… I eat.
Fourth, it’s available. If there’s something good around… I eat it. Can’t pass up trying that ooey-gooey chocolate cake dripping with chocolate icing? Neither can I. Have a couple of extra dollars in your pocket as you drive by Dairy Queen and suddenly yearn for a chocolate Heath Blizzard? So do I! At the last minute, try as you might, you give into the impulse of buying a little bag of chips at the check-out counter? Uh-huh. Been there, done that.
A number of times.
Seems like ever since I was on vacation a few weeks ago (and yes, I recognized the problem a few days after returning), I haven’t been able to flip my mind out of vacation mode eating.
So, what’s a girl to do? I don’t want to stop eating, though I know I should slow down. The only other alternative is more exercise. By some people’s standards I exercise a LOT. Just ask the dog; our walks average a minimum of ten miles plus per day.
I’m left with no choice. I have to up the ante and exercise more intensely (translate sweat profusely), lift weights, and cross-train. Should I actually start running? There was a time many years ago before marathon training became so popular, when I ran five miles a day accompanied by a would-be boyfriend who lived to encourage me as I ran. (Didn’t really enjoy it then, but the eating trade-offs were crazy.) My own personal trainer, again before it was the norm.
Yesterday, I bought a pair of those new (to me) Vibram FiveFingers—the barefoot running shoes many are raving about. Yes, I read the book pointing the way for barefoot running Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen by Christopher McDougall, but what I remember most was learning about chia seeds, which I now eat in all my smoothies and more. See the trend of my mind?
So, what am I waiting for? I have a pair of shoes just waiting for me to MOVE. I’ve researched the pros and cons of barefoot running and polled all my Facebook friends. I have no other choice.
We all need a magic bullet every once in a while. As rabid as it sounds… I’m going to do it. I’m going to run.
And… who knows how far those little shoes might take me? ~ JD here.