Showing posts with label out of control. Show all posts
Showing posts with label out of control. Show all posts

Monday, January 14, 2013

I'm a mess, but this baby is gonna get cleaned up cause I ain't putting up with ME being a childish eater aka Working on the Return of the Warrior Princess

Okay, so man, today the scale said 184.0.

Yesterday, it said 184.8

That's right at the border of my acceptable high weight of 185. This is when emergency measures need to be put into place.

THIS IS THE TRUTH!
Ever since I got lax late last year when I got sick, my brain is in "I don't wanna be mature" mode when it comes to eating. I'll have semi-decent (not at all perfect) days with crappy days. The only good thing I can say is that I have not binged.

But with my brain in baby-mode, immature-eater mode, a binge is sure to come knocking, if I do not implement the measures I once did to get out of obesity and stop binge eating.

Tonight, I gotta go dig up my dietitian notes from Jan 2011. I've got them somewhere, and it's a matter of sitting down with my old blog posts, my R.D. notes, some good motivational reading, and getting hubby fully on board.

The child in me needs to shut the hell up.

My brain needs to grow up.

I really hate being out of control. It's not pizza and cheeseburgers out of control, but it is self-indulgent. IT's noshing here and there. It's not sticking to what I know is a good eating plan for me.

This is why I mention that letting go of control for whatever reason--sickness, holidays, vacations--is a bad, bad idea. REgetting control is one mother of a task.

I'm in the thick of warfare with my old bad habits.

I"m gonna win this. Why? Because I have to. Because obesity beckons again. Because grown-ups don't just eat what they wanna when they wanna. Because being mature and in control means you stick to a fricken plan 95+% of the time at least, with only the occasional bobble.

I'm being a brat again. This me, this is not noble or laudable.

I could make excuses. My thyroid is a bit off (with my hair falling out again and I'm sleeping 10 and 11 hours). But I won't. Because EVEN with my thyroid out of whack at various times since 2010, I worked to keep my food intake happy and mature and nutritious and controlled.

This time, the problem is ME.

The solution is....ME.

I'm crafting guidelines for a challenge. I figure if I need to, I activate that as a plan for self-motivation. Worked for me in the past.  I would do it pretty much like I did the others--Slimmer this Summer, Christmas Dress Countdown, Eve 2 Easter. Same sort of requirements and accountability and buddy system and positive support. If you are struggling, too, and if you've completed my challenges  in the past and want "in" again, keep an eye out for an announcement sometimes later this month.

Knocking Out the Food Idiot!!!
For the next four days, my focus will be on empowering that warrior part of me. I gotta knock the stooopid outta me.

Today, I did my strengthening exercise. But today I also swerved the car to my fave chocolatier and indulged in truffles and conversation with the owner.

Yes, I'm a fricken idiot. Feel free to tell me to stop it the hell now. Thanks.

Okay, I'm gonna do some cardiac before I go pick up my organic co-op share, and the whole time, I'm gonna be thinking and speaking affirmations.

This sh*t stops today.

Tomorrow, I'm waking up like a lion. Roaring...

I control me. No one else. ME. The me in control so far is the food-stupid Princess. I'm gonna shoot her dead. Or at least slap her unconscious. She needs to get out of the way of Princess Dieter, the one who isn't food-driven and slothful. I want that royal gal back. I want the Princess Brat exiled or gone and forgotten. I'm too old for this self-indulgence and laziness. Really, way too old.

I felt better when my food act was together. I will be that me again. SOON.

Wish me well....

The battle goes on....

Let's win it.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Day 6 Spawn of SoDDDY Challenge: The Horrendous Weigh-In and BAck to Goal Level Caloric Intake, Cause Clearly, 1200 Calories Raises My Expectations Too Much and My Inner Dieter is Not as Mature As I Thought...But where I got back on the horse fast, unlike years/decades past...

Scale: 242.6

This is a big uptick, and my first challenge no-loss weigh-in. Worse. Gain weigh-in. (But know this: Yesterday, the scale said 243.0. Yes...even more.)

Interestingly, there was only one Eff-Up meal. ONE. Yes. ONE. Let me just copy and paste from my email to Beth of Obesity Strike blog, that eloquent lovely in BritLand, who was kindly concerned about my blogging absence yesterday. (Not due to any major freaking. I had a family event, and I was gone from shortly after getting up to almost 11 pm, by which time I wanted to lie on the couch and have hubby rub my feet while I tried to make up for not drinking enough water.) Here:

Friday night--I had the delayed freak from the weigh-in and ate an insane amount at dinner. Not insane in quantity--was not stuffed at all. Insane cause somehow the French have a way of concentrating calories. 1.5 cup of a creamy soup, a vegetarian entree that was miniscule, but drenched, clearly, in EVOO and butters. And half of my husband's decadent dessert. I'm guessing 2000 cals, once the breadsticks and bean appetizer are factored in. Scary. I really was very upset by that weigh-in and think I went into "fuck it, I'm eating" mode.

But yesterday, I only messed up on not enough water....

We had a very lovely time at a sublime Christmas concert. We had a wee walk on Miracle Mile in Coral Gables in the cool night. Trees with twinkly lights, people having fun, giggling girls, toddler, old couples. Nice. Lots of smooching at a sidewalk French bistro's for me and hubby between bites/slurps. Very charming and romantic.

But, part of my control, yes, I felt it slip. Then a bit more. I started fine (breakfast and lunch were excellent and left me 500 cals for dinner at 1200). Water was too much for my UTI bladder. We had to duck into a fast food restaurant for me to pee half-way through the drive to the venue. (Ugh, traumatic bathroom experience, nasty)  At Miracle Mile, I had walked past the bistro after seeing a really unsuitable limited menu. Very oil/cream/butter rich stuff. But hubby got stabbed in the brain by a sniff of the goodies and the look of his face was control-slip-number-one.

Okay, I said. We sat. (First big mistake.)

I tried to find stuff I wanted and was not bad. Every soup was creamy or cheesy. I asked the waiter which soup would have the least fat/cream. Fine, bring that one....

Every salad was cheesy or meaty or creamy or oily. No salad as I was having the vegetarian entree, anyway. Yes, the only entree that looked like it might suit--the vegetarian one--was what I ordered, though not exactly what I wanted. I did not order dessert or the nice 3-course offerins (soup/entree/dessert) cause then I'd order dessert.

Little by little, I just felt something in my head start blooming. Control slipping. I ordered decaf. Had three cups. Asked for extra glasses of water.

Well, whatever. As described in my email excerpt: diet fail.

Yesterday, I was gone all day. I knew the event (bowling party then home party) would have a trigger food: pizza. I made an egg white scramble with some part-skim mozzarella, fresh basil, chopped tomato and I had a leftover half of a multigrain bagel, scooped out, that I added some of the chopped tomato, some of the 1/4 cup I used of mozzarella, some basil, some garlic, and tried to give myself the diet-pizza vibe without the pizza calories. To satiate my mouth a bit with flavors, so I could resist.

I did. I had NONE Of the two pizzas. I took an apple, two slices reduced cheese and a snack bag of high-fiber, low-cal crackers. That was my lunch, with water and decaf. Good thing, as this bowling alley has NOT ONE diet-friendly item on the menu. NOT ONE. Not one salad. Everything is a diet bomb: burgers, fries, hot dogs, pizza, chicken tenders, nachos.

I bowled 2 hours non-stop (I took two spots on the roster so I kept moving). And I never sat down for 2 hours. My family kept asking me to sit down between turns, and I said, no, burn more calories standing up.  I jumped around. I danced with the kids.

The family then moved to brother's home for the dinner/cake part of the festivities. I pit-stopped at a nearby Japanese place and got vegetable sushi, steamed gyoza, salad and green tea to go. (Hubby got chicken teriyaki and brown rice, so I had the grilled veggies he didn't like: zucchini, onions.)  I had no cake. Instead, 2 strawberries dipped in fat-free whipped cream (niece is dieting, hence the option). Then I picked up a clave and my brother the maracas we had a mini pachanga, singing to Christmas carols to a salsa beat while dancing and making noise. (Family tradition: for Nochebuena, we take bags full of percussion instruments and just jam and dance and make a happy, celebratory noise to salsa tunes.)

Played scrabble. Had ONE chocolate kiss. Went home. Drank coconut water and regular water. Watched anime a bit with hubby. Dozed off on couch.

Today, I finally had a breather to consider Friday's debacle at dinner. I really do think that not seeing any loss after such a controlled eating, lower calorie week hurt me internally more than I had even realized. It really put me close to an all-out binge.

(Believe it or not, those 2000 or so calories was not even CLOSE to a binge. My stomach was not stuffed in the least. It was a small amount of very concentrated fatty calories. The veggie plate was, literally, 1 portabello mushroom cap, 1/4 cup spinach which I shared with hubby, 1 artichoke heart, 1/4 cup wild rice, and one tablespoon each of beet coulis, red pepper coulis, sweet potato whipped, yukon potato whipped with anise or fennel. That's it. I could have held most of it in the palm of my hand. hahahah. It all tasted primo, very nicely done, but miniature servings.)

I'm going back to more "goal weight" level. I can take disappointing losses if I eat that way. If I eat at 1200 and don't get significant drops (2+ pounds) a week, I will freak. I saw a small gain afer eating at an average of about 1300 cals a day. I did not handle it well at all, it seems. I thought I was okay. I was not.

My inner dieter is apparently 13 years old.

242.6

Dang. I don't care that most is bloat. I don't care. I hate that number.

It was hard emailing Allan with a GAIN. (Ugh) So, reset button, fresh week, fresh start.

Onward, with hope and resolve:

Food Log:

Breakfast:
1/2 cup egg whites made into omelette withorganic goodies: 1.5 oz feta, 1 cup chopped tomatoes , 1/2 cup chopped red bell peppers, 1/2 cup strips of Cubanelle peppers, fresh oregano, dried oregano, salt, pepper.
1/2 teaspoon of olive oil that I smeared on non-stick pan
1/2, scooped, multigrain bagel with 1 tbsp organic neufchatel and 2 tsp Dalfour Four Fruits spread
2 cups coffee
6 glasses water
calories: 443
fluids: 64 oz

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Why I'm Looking Eastward and Giving Switzerland a Dirty Look Today!!!

719 days, 7 hours to go....

Holy cow. I discovered a bomb in my house yesterday!

So, there I was. Eating well. Drinking pretty well. No binges. Pretty calm. It's suppertime. We're almost done eating. I made a no-sugar apple compote to give hubby for dessert with some vanilla frosty (I don't get tempted by those, so I can use half of a small frosty one night for his dessert and the rest the next night, usually with an apple compote.)

Then hubby gets up, goes, "Oh, I almost forgot..." and goes off to retrieve something from his office. He comes back and it's some treat a co-worker brought back from a trip to Switzerland.  He says he tasted it and it was good, but didn't know if I'd like it.

It's a chocolate bar with a chocolate mousse filling.

Oh, dear.

But wait, it's milk chocolate. No problem. Milk chocolate is not my big thing. The only one that really tempts me is the Jivara bar by Valrhona (expensive, super nice).

I take a taste, figuring it would cap my meal and I could hand it back.

Holy Swiss Cow on a Sugar Stick!

Whatever they put in that--I suspect crack--set me off. I have not had a chocolate frenzy like that in...well...a good while enough that I can't remember. This thing was created by chocoholic angels. I never came across milk chocolate moussey genius like this in any American bar.

I ate five pieces. Only one was left. Hubby had had two. Sweet Cream Demon Spawn of Candy Hell! It was like being possessed.

I handed the pathetic box with one piece left and told hubby FIRMLY and SOBERLY, never to bring this stuff in the house again. This triggered me like nobody's business, I told him. Don't bring junk food in the house again, period. This was bad. BAD.

He looked contrite and went and hid the last piece where I do not know. Maybe he ate it.

I don't even know the name. I didn't read the box, I didn't jot it down. I just had to get it out of my sight after the frenzy was done.

It was masterfully crafted. BUT...the fault is mine.

I chose to let it control me.

Let's face it: I am a human being with 50 years under my (decidedly overly large) belt. I have two college degrees. I have common sense. I don't do crazy rash things. I never did illegal drugs. I never smoked. I got drunk once when I was 18 and realized it was a very stupid sensation and never got drunk again. I drive carefully. I never got a speeding ticket. I pay my bills on time. I have an enduring and loving marriage (27.5 years). I am a good sister. I was a very good daughter.

So, it wasn't the chocolate. I chose to give up control.

Okay, so I understand that there is some scientific backing for the effect of sugar-n-fat on the brain and that first square was probably toxic to me in ways I cannot fully fathom. But it's still on me. I GAVE UP CONTROL TO A FRICKEN SWISS BAR OF CHOCOLATE!

How dumbass do I feel?

So, I got on the scale and, thankfully, there was only a 1/5th of a pound uptick. Probably more to do with the salty Italian fixings in my dinner salad (artichoke in brine, genoa salami (1 ounce), cappicola (1/2 ounce), mozzarella, briny peppers, black olives) than the 300 or whatever calories in the chocolate. Still...I messed up my momentum...it will affect my weigh-in.

It was incredibly delicious. It was not worth it.

So, now that I've thoroughly admitted my humiliation at the hands of Swiss candymakers, I am happy to say today has been back on calm. No Swiss candy bombs in sight!

I do admit there is a bar of chocolate in my dining room. It's Valrhona, it's very dark, it's not a temptation bomb. I can now and then indulge in a square and not feel like I have to scarf up the whole thing. This is the only kind of dark chocolate I can allow--one that has some bitterness, one that can sit on the table for weeks and serve its purpose without setting me off the way a creamier, sweeter one can. Maybe cause it's nice, but not INSANE LOGIC SUCKING sorta nice. A treat that can be kept discreet.

So, hey, you, Switzerland. Yes, that prickle on the back of your collective Alps-hiking necks--that's me giving you the eye of death for making that insane chocolate bar. It's lethal. It's of the devil. It's just too good. Hope you all get fat!

:)

Today, so far, 400 calories. All is calm, all is bright...no Swiss bombs in sight...may it remain so....