Weighty matters

Happy New Year, albeit 12 days late.

As a baby and a toddler, eating was not one of my greater accomplishments. My mother had to coax food into my mouth and used all the games at her disposal. Not for her the approach of “Here’s a spoonful for Teddy; here’s a spoonful for Mummy; here’s a spoonful for Uncle John.” My mother shoveled spoons of strained peas in to the stations on the Trans-Siberian railway. Given my lack of enthusiasm for food, I could apparently recite them by heart at a very early age. I am told that I obligingly tucked the food away in my cheeks like a hamster, and when I ran out of room, I simply blew it all out. I don’t know why my mother didn’t strangle me, but she didn’t, and it’s thanks to her unfailing patience and creativity that I didn’t starve myself to death. (And yes, she did try leaving me alone on the assumption that I would eat when hungry, but when day four rolled around and I hadn’t eaten anything, she decided that wasn’t a viable option.)

Fast forward to now, some never-mind-how-many decades later. I have clearly overcome my reluctance to eat because I am carrying extra weight–not much, but I am 5′ 1″ and small-boned. The 10 or so extra pounds show and mean that 75 percent of my clothes don’t fit.

So I (1) joined a gym, and (2) joined a diet program at the gym. The eating plans are flexible and easily adapted to my semi-vegetarianism (fish and eggs but no meat or poultry) and they aren’t of the annoying kind that include half a grapefruit, a quarter of an avocado, and two-thirds of a can of tuna in week one. What the hell are you supposed to do with the remaining fractions? Give them to the deserving poor? Those of us who worry about the starving Armenians don’t like to throw them out, so we eat them, and that screws up the diet.

And (3), with this post, I’ve gone public. I’m on a diet starting Monday.

In the meantime, every vegetable I own that isn’t in the week one meal plans is sauteeing and will become a frittata with the three remaining eggs (from Monday on it’s Egg Beaters for a while) for tonight’s dinner and tomorrow’s lunch. After which I am going to watch Ladies in Lavender, courtesy Netflix.


5 Responses to Weighty matters

  1. Elisabeth says:

    I’ve joined the diet and exercise club – again – my attempt at losing weight (also about 10 to 15 lbs) and exercising last summer came to a screeching halt after school started. Well, actually, I kept on a pretty decent exercise regimen all summer, but could not make the South Beach Diet work for me. I am back to the diet (just less food, no red meet, and curbing down on carbs, as well as no alcohol) as of Tuesday morning, when my semester break is officially over.

    I guess that I should wish the both of us good luck!

  2. rel says:

    “They” say the secret to success is the willingness to start. even if you have to start more than once. It tok me thirty years to quit smoking and probably that many or more attempts. No tobacco for 10+ yrs.
    Good luck and persevere.

  3. my backyard says:

    Did your Mom really name all of the stations on the TranSiberian Railway? I love that idea!

    I’m also back to the gym and am working with a personal trainer once a week for 10 weeks. I hope that’ll get me back into the exercising groove.

    Good luck with your quest!

  4. passante says:

    Elisabeth: Thank you et bonne chance aussi a’ toi.

    Rel: Thanks for the encouragement. Your blog is an inspiration to reluctant exercisers.

    My Backyard: I am not sure, in fact, that she named every single one. For one thing, that would be a lot of spoons of food! But yes, she truly did use the station names.

  5. Kirk says:

    I never had trouble with weight until I discovered martinis. To make a long story short, they got the best of me and I swelled up. It was hard to stop enjoying a drink that had become an event, a serious high, but this is how I did it:

    I thought about all the bad things those martinis were doing to me then I thought about all the good things that stopping those martinis would do. I thought a long time. And one day, I just went cold turkey without a backward glance and got high on the 15+ pound loss and on my new waist instead.

    (I’ll let you in on a secret: The new high lasts longer.)

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