Last Monday, I allowed my boyfriend to
throw away my scales. This has nothing to do with a flaking skin problem; I’m
talking about the appliance that I used to stand on at least two to three times
a week, thereby allowing my day to be dictated by a number. If it was down, I
was up, if it was up, I was down. You get the picture, my boyfriend got the aftermath.
Not that I felt empowered to do much about it if that omnipotent weighing machine was telling me something that I didn’t want to know. Maybe I’d switch to salad for two days, think I was doing great, then switch to chips as soon as my belt was loosening. Of course, this left me squeezing back into my jeans, and I’d soon feel like I just couldn’t get a grip on the old ‘too much food equals too many calories equals fat’ equation.
I thought I’d conquered this whole diet
thing a while ago when I’d started to try and adopt some of the principles
around ‘eating food for pleasure’ (and only as much as you need). I was getting
quite smug about it, in fact, and the low-fat, no-taste foods were no longer over-populating
my fridge like boy babies in
But that smugness was a fleeting joy.
Before I knew it, I was pushing up a jeans size and my favourite pair has been
resigned to the ironing pile (it never gets done, so I didn’t have to worry
about them again). Now a stone heavier than when I met my boyfriend 3 years
ago, I was wondering if it wouldn’t be long before the next stone appeared (
Funnily enough, it didn’t work, and I was in a points deficit far more than I had them saved for ‘treats’. Each time I went for my weigh in (I felt like a abnormal load) I was making up excuses about why I still seemed to be eating. In fact, I could have lost an elephant easier than I could have lost a pound.
Does this signal the way for a changed me, no longer needing to worry about diets again? I hope so. As long as I don’t get fat. Watch this space to see how I get on with my life beyond chocolate (though for me, that really should be beyond egg custards, cream doughnuts and King Prawn Tikka Massalla).
Hi Andrea,
Full of admiration for these new blog posts - I did consider an anonymous blog called 'Can'tstopeating.blogspot.com
I understand the trick is stopping eating when you stop tasting it!
Hope you can keep this diary up and I'll keep checking in to see how you are going.
x
Posted by: Linda | September 06, 2006 at 06:23 PM
Now I've got watching eyes on this space I'm hoping that will be inspiration to keep it up. It's going to be one big, fun, experiment, I hope! Add me to your RSS to keep checking.
Posted by: Andrea Wren | September 06, 2006 at 08:50 PM
I've got Beyond Chocolate in my TBR pile so you (and the 7lbs I've gained during 7 days holiday) have inspired me to actually read it!
I have noticed that when a plate of food arrives in front of me (my husband does the majority of the cooking) I seem to see it as a race to the death to get it all shoved down my neck, so the actual enjoying food part will be a challenge.
Good luck!
Posted by: Keris | September 17, 2006 at 09:55 PM
hallelujah!!!!
Its funny how these things happen, your soul calls out for you to wake up and smell the chocolate and then this lovely page falls into my lap.check out my url to see how I found my way here.good on you.My wish is that this mentality catches on faster than the zone diet,before we all lose our mind's and then our waistlines.
Posted by: lisa jane | October 29, 2006 at 05:13 AM
Hi Lisa Jane - So happy you've dropped by to let me know that you're following a similar path! Good luck to you in your own non-dieting endeavours and do stay in touch.
Posted by: Andrea Wren | October 30, 2006 at 03:33 PM