October 29, 2010
There is an elephant in the room.
Me.
Always there.
Always present and accounted for.
Okay, "me" specifically may be a bit harsh.
My weight.
More to the point, the fact that there is so much of it.
And now, I am engaged in a battle that may well be the most challening battle thus far in my life.
More challenging than completing three university degrees while raising three children on my own.
More challenging than my mother's two year hospitalization and subsequent move into a nursing home.
More challening than being married to Stephen.
And yes, even more challenging than raising Meredyth.
Weight loss.
Cause the "it's baby fat" excuse isn't all that valid anymore, considering the kids are 21, 19 and 16.
The weight seems to want to stay with me, rent free, so it's definitely time for an eviction.
Hence, this past Monday, I did something my doctor told me to do three months ago.
I had my first appointment at Simply for Life.
Let the battle end!
Oh the weight stories I have.
A regular tell all repository of every single humiliation, embarrassment, wanting to instantaneously disappear and never show my face again play-by-play accounts of a life long war between me and food.
There are lots of reasons for how come I have gotten to this place.
I often wonder what would of happened had my parents actually spoke to one another before they began to reproduce.
Mum: Well, Jerry, what do you think our children will look like?
Dad: Good question Janet. If we take into consideration that overweight people exist on both sides of our family, specifically, my mother, Dora, struggled with weight her entire life. She was a big woman. And on your side of the family, tree trunk thighs tend to be a visible pattern. What do you think will be the outcome of our reproductive activities?
Mum: Excellent points Jerry. And, if we couple those physical characteristics with a genetic predisposition towards depression, which often causes people to eat when they are stressed, upset or experiencing any myriad of emotions, we could conclude that we may have children with weight issues.
Dad: We should still reproduce, though. We may be completely off in our assessments and have two children who have no weight or mental health issues. They will be perfect.
Mum: They will be. And we will be so lucky.
Instead of perfect, thin children, my parents created two children who have spent their entire lives battling the caloric evil all around them.
I know they didn't plan it that way.
Because if they did, I'd be quite upset.
Emotional eating.
If there was ever a poster child for emotional eating, it's me.
Get me upset, and be prepared to see me trawling through the aisles of the Superstore or the Bulk Barn looking for as much chocolate and sugar as I can get until I start to feel guilty.
In a pinch, there's a vending machine in our building.
Oh Henry! has gotten me through a number of job stress related issues.
And if I'm REALLY lucky, my students will hook.me.up.
Yesterday, for example, a group of students was doing a presentation in one of my classes. The presentation included an activity, and there were prizes for those students who paid attention during the presentation.
A box of 90 Halloween sized Hershey bars. . .milk chocolate, cookies and cream, and caramel filled.
The instant I saw that box, my pupils dialated, by heart beat quickened, and all I could think of was just how good those chocolate bars were going to be.
My student opened the box and leaned it towards me in a gesture reminiscent of a flasher whipping open his trenchcoat to unleash his goodies.
I was powerless to resist.
My hands reached inside the box and withdrew an overflowing handful of chocolately wrapped goodness enticing me to partake, to "come on, try it, you know you want to."
And I did.
After the presentation and activity, another handful of temptation came my way, sitting beside the growing pile of empty wrappers, the remnants of the candy bars already called to duty.
Coupled with the large pile of Peanut Butter M&Ms I procured from a student, magnificence in a candy coated covering, sublime, heavenly, each little button of chocolate and peanut butter crunchiness filling my stressed, frustrated soul with a temporary, euphoric peace that lastest just until I was able to get another one in touch with my tantalized taste buds.
Crack.
Peanut Butter M&Ms are the crack of the candy world.
And I the biggest user.
Of course, like any addict, I felt like crap afterwards.
Sitting in my office, convincing myself I would never indulge like that again.
Unfortunately, stress eating doesn't include thinking in the long term.
Obviously, or I wouldn't be where I am right now.
And because I am an equal opportunity eater, I can derive as much pleasure from a mound of steaming whipped potatoes, with the petit pat of butter nestled on top like a cherry on an ice cream sundae.
Macaroni and cheese, homemade of course, with just the right amount of salt, pepper and ketchup will shoo away my slump.
A steak, rare, with sauteed mushrooms on top can made even most horrific of days melt away like a popcicle on a hot summer's day.
Sometimes, all I need is a pile of PC Decadent Chocolate Chip cookies and a nice, hot cup of coffee to drive the doldrums away.
Bags of Empire Theater popcorn peppered with any kind M&Ms (save pretzel. . .not feeling the love for Pretzel M&Ms) is enough to transport me to a place of unfettered bliss.
Even oatmeal, yes oatmeal, homemade with apples, raisins and cinnamon, surrounded like an island with warm milk, and topped with a generous sprinkling of brown sugar can chase away the crankiness with almost lightening speed.
Food and stress, a deadly, but oh-so-delicious combination.
A love for food that almost surpasses my love for the kids.
I.
Love.
Food.
Food is not just fuel for the body.
It is art.
Food can inspire joy and anticipation, sadness and frustration.
Holidays are, in part, built on food.
Christmas turkey, Easter ham, Thanksgiving pumpkin pie.
If I thought of everything with the fervour and zest in which I think about food, I'd have five PhD's by now.
The amount of time I spend thinking about food, anticipating what I will eat when I get home, what I will have for lunch, how much I will bake and cook over the weekend. . . .
I could have cured cancer, become the first legitimate Prime Minister of Canada, written the great Canadian novel and figured out how to stop the global destruction of the environment.
Yes. That much time.
So, what has prompted the sudden end of my life long food fiesta?
Guilt?
Sort of.
Jealousy?
Um, perhaps. My brother, my long time companion of conspicuous caloric consumption has lost a lot of weight.
Not necessarily in the best way, but when you're me, you don't think of reason, you think results.
Health?
Gottcha!
At 43, I am more tired than I should be. There are so many things I want to do, but can't because I am just too tired.
Which makes perfect sense when you carry the load I carry every day.
I have the knees of a 69 year old.
Over the summer, tired of dealing with debilitating knee pain, sometimes so painful it would literally wake me up during the night, I made an appointment to see my doctor, who sent me for x-rays and then informed me of the results of said x-rays.
It wasn't pretty.
I've had knee pain since I was 16, when I started working in a convenience store and was on my feet for 8 hours at a time.
And its only gotten worse as I've gotten older and heavier.
More importantly, after going through all I went through as a result of my mother's health, I simply didn't want to put my kids through all I've been through.
And that means getting my health in order.
Which brings us to today.
No more piles of potatoes, mouthwatering steaks, sumptuous stews, colossal cakes. . .
Goodbye, for now, to squash, peas, corn. . .
I LOVE squash.
We currently have 25 pounds of it in our basement.
Cookies, chips and dip, guacamole, squares, I bid you adieu.
Swiss Chalet, McDonalds, Subway, Yassou, I say aurevoir.
And welcome to spelt, walnuts, fish, chicken breast, apples, almonds, brown rice. . .
The cleansing diet.
Which will presumably pave the way towards teaching me that food does not have to be an obsession, a comfort, a crutch.
A lifestyle change.
What will ultimately be a good change.
For all of us.
Because I am the Queen Bee of this Hive, and I'm bringing everyone with me whether they want to come along for the ride or not.
Cause if Mama can't eat chocolate, nobody can eat chocolate.
Title Lyric: Instant Weight Loss by Sparks
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