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Watch The "Self-Hate" Talk AKA Hate the Fat but Love the Fatty (especially if that fatty is you)

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My Biggest Dieter's Mistake and Slacking Off Issue Right Now: Not Cooking

I am totally NOT giving it 100%. I'm not even giving it 80%. Shoot, I'm barely hitting 55%.

And my biggest step backwards, my hugest slack-off, from when I was losing--and even maintaining--is...not doing grocery shopping, meal planning, and home cooking.

Without question, this is my big hurdle to tackle this week. Without this, I might as well admit I'm gonna fail.

I've been back into getting take-out, eating out. This spells disaster. It has. I'm stuck at just nearly 8 pounds from my best during this blog's existence. And it's not budging. I thought I could do it with judicious eating out. I can't.

It got especially bad when I was sick (hey, now there's an excuse to order pizza or have hubb go to the local Mexican restaurant or Kabob place). And as I was coming back home after driving through Taco Bell post Pilates (talk about ruining a good deed with a bad one), I told myself this had to stop. I had to get my cooking mojo back on.

So, I committed to myself to go get groceries either later today (if I can get my second wind, as I feel mighty pooped) or after my ultrasound appointment tomorrow. But no later.

I have to admit. I have NO excuse not to grocery shop and plan and cook meals. It's just plain laziness. It's just bad old habits taking over again.

No. Gotta kick the take-out habit. Trying to regulate it (ie, promising to choose only healthful options) isn't working. I gotta just make my food. I have to control what goes into my meals. I have to turn that stove and oven back on. I have to stock that freezer and fridge and the fruit bowls. Period.

And you know, I'm not the only one who needs to do this. Read this a few minutes ago at Diets in Review:

Since 1965, women have gone from spending 13 hours per week cooking meals to the meager 30 minutes per day now, and in that time the number of overweight women has more than doubled, to 65 percent. Biggest Loser cookbooks author Devin Alexander pointed out that “Twenty minutes in the kitchen will save you three hours on the StairMaster.”

Yes. We've become a nation of eater-outers, not home-cookers. Let's be real. At home, you have to measure out the oil and butter and dressing and cheese and portion the meat and chicken and tofu or whatever. You just don't get this plate, like magic, from the Kitchen Fairy. You can't say, "Well, maybe this mashed potato isn't so bad, or these veggies weren't doused in too much butter." At home, you can't fool yourself. You know exactly what's in there, cause YOU put it in there.

I love to eat out. As I told hubby yesterday, after we left the gynecologist (where he held my hand during the painful exam), when he commented how he likes buffets cause he serves himself (and he has VERY little food at buffets, cause his appetitie is pretty small for a tall feller, and they definitely MAKE money off him, cause he never eats 10 bucks worth!), I like being served. I LOVE having someone bring me yummies and take away dirty plates and ask me if I want coffee and dessert.

It makes me feel like an Empress. Or, okay, a Princess. :)

I think a small part of it's 'cause my parents were not eater-outers. Eating out was this amazing thing to me. I'd see sidewalk cafes in NYC when we visited Manhattan and it was so alien. A thing only special people did. Not poor people like us.

I never sat down in my first Chinese restaurant until I was 16, and that because a friend's dad invited me out to eat with his family. I found it astonishing. And it's the same today. I get this wild thrill at heading to a sit-down restaurant and having whatever my heart desires.

Sit-down restaurants are like small vacations. Drive-throughs are me just not wanting to do any work. Either way, they both are about self-spoiling. For me, anyway. Luxury. Not wisdom or self-control. Indulgence.

My parents never modeled this. This is just ME. Spoiling myself. Acting all rich, right? No...They were homey types, simple folks who worked very hard at low-paying work and who watched pennies like hawks watching field mice. Cooking at home was economical. No takeout, except for a walk to the bakery to get bread. That's what poor folks did and do, especially poor immigrant folks who have a hankering for their ethnic flavors, do. Eat at home.

For me, eating out is a huge luxury. It's what rich people do. What my parents could not do.

It's crazy how much money we waste eating out. Really shameful. We could be putting that towards retirement or paying off our car note. Seriously.

It's a bad economy--a perfect time to figure out how to eat well without spending a fortune. It's a challenge, but not insurmountable. For the $5 or $6 bucks that cafeteria or eat-out turkey sandwich costs plus whatever beverage you get and maybe that bag o' chips, you can make two to four lunches at home (depending on what you eat).

So, the Princess needs to haul her fat butt to Whole Foods and get what she needs for a week of meals. I love eating out too much to nix it altogether. But man, even if I reduce it to once or twice a week, that's better than what I've been doing. Every single dinner and most lunches out. Crazy. Foolish.

Oh, man. Back to the basics.

~

Catching Diet Tribe on On Demand

I caught Diet Tribe on Comcast On Demand. I'm enjoying it, especially the part with the therapist. It's cool that she was obese once, so she knows it's tough.

I have to say that Shawna is getting on my last nerve. I really want to well-up with empathy, but I'm watching her and have known gals like her--manipulative. The little girl voice saying the cutting thing so it doesn't seem like the cutting thing. The turning stuff so she's the center of attention. The girl may not even realize how manipulative and controlling and whiny and attention-seeking she is, but there it is. On my nerves.

On the other hand, I really like Megan. Her meeting with the therapist was really tough to hear, but she's eloquent and honest about her issues.

I do think the trainer had them doing stuff than no 280 pound woman should do--like the tire run and some other maneuvers that can only strain knees and ankles when said knees and ankles are carrying the weight of two people. I got so ticked at him when Morgan hurt herself. Good tv drama is not always good health-building--like with the drastic caloric curtailment and water pills some have used to make the TBL final weigh in lower.

On the happier side:

I got a serious yum-craving for those stuffed mushrooms Morgan made for their indoor picnic. Mushrooms and cheese--two of my favest things. I'm gonna get the fixings for them next time I shop. If you want the recipe--and it's 35 calories per stuffed mushroom--here it is: Four-Cheese Stuffed Mushrooms.

~

A New Year for the Fatfighters!

Well, see, I didn't drop off the side of the universe. :)

Nah. I've been sick a couple weeks. Some sort of frustratingly stubborn low-level inflammatory thing--not a cold, not the flu, probably an allergic or autoimmune flare-up like I've had in the past--so it put a big crimp on my holiday and my Pilates. For the first time in 6 months, I missed a whole week of sessions. Well, week and a half. This bums me out like you wouldn't believe (yes, I have become accustomed to my thrice-weekly workouts with my trainer and the noticeable increase in strength).

I have to count my blessings, though, even though there's a 40 pound invisible cat sitting on my chest making it hard to breathe, not to mention what seems to be cotton wadding down my nose and throat. Why? Cause I normally used to have anywhere from 2 to 6 bouts of acute bronchitis per year (due to my crappy respiratory and messy immune system). This year, I didn't get bronchitis ONCE. I'm crediting this to eating better (most of the time, including lots of produce, clean foods, oganic products) and exercising regularly and vigorously.

Maybe sliding back into old crap food habits after my organic delivery service went on hiatus contributed to my feeling poorly. Dunno. Maybe it's just the usual stuff I get during this time of year--which has always been problematic. I am used to Christmas wheezing. I've missed many a family party over the decades due to Christmas sickies.

In any case, I'm just praying I can shake this off and get back to business--exercise, eating well, writing creatively, and decluttering my house and spirit--in the coming first full week of 2009.

Aren't fresh starts wonderful?

I want to feel well enough Friday to hit Whole Foods or Fresh Market. I want to visit the local organic juicer and get fresh squeezed green juices in quarts to get me some yummy enzymes. I want to begin the Beck Diet for Life book and see if I can get my psychological groove going. I want to breathe well enough to get back to Pilates. I want to stop ordering too much take-away.

Simple steps, but they seem so complicated in one-lump paragraph. (I recommend folks visit Lyn and get her habit-a-week posts and try that.)

I indulged in a bit too much cake and chocolate and mousse this holiday, so I just ordered up some low-carb goodies from Netrition.com to kick-start January with less sugar and more protein. But man, I really need my fruits and veggies. I haven't been able to shop in TWO WEEKS, and hubby is just afraid of produce. He really is (funny) helpless in the face of choosing fruits and veggies. So, the fruit bowls are empty. Literally EMPTY. No oranges, bananas, apples, pears, lemons, avocados, limes, tomatoes in the bowls. No grapes, cherries, berries...just some papaya that I asked him to get to aid in decongesting and some pineapple juice leftover from a take-away dinner from Pasha's Mediterranean.

Ah, man, I hate being sick. Makes me feel so helpless and useless. I breathe best when I'm very still. Any exertion makes me gasp. So, I can feel the fat creeping back and the muscles devolving. I want to keep my hard-earned (expensively-acquired) muscles!

I know. I know. Keep it positive. Start 2009 with great hope.

Hope was the word God gave me for 2008. I even bought a piece of fairy art from the delightful Sara Butcher to showcase that work:



(If you go to the link above to her site, Sara has another very charming HOPE fairy in the upper left of her blog layout, and it's in color and very cute.)

I look forward to hear what word the Lord will give me for 2009. Sometimes, I don't get it until two or three months in, but it always seems to address a need for that year. For instance, in 2008, after 20 years with his employer, my hubby got laid off. You can guess that hope came into play big time. God came through with a really good job for him, and he kept me bronchitis-and-pneumonia free. He made it possible for me to do Pilates (with the severance money from lay-off).

I will commemorate my 2009 word with another piece of small art, if I can afford it. I "hope" so. :) Ah, yes. I think HOPE is a word that's good for all seasons of all years. Especially for those of us struggling with obesity and health problems. I'm glad I have my little fairy to remind me.

I ask God to bless you all in your fight, in your struggles, in trying times, and to bring health and joy and great friendships and much love in 2009.

See you soon. (And if you're the praying sort, prayers for my breathing to normalize would so much be appreciated.)

OH...and if you want a challenge, Fitcetera's gorgeous blogger Katschi has one going. The Six Week "As If Jillian Were Riding Your Butt" Challenge. I signed up.

Oh, lawdy, lawdy. I really need to get my respiratory system back in line to do it, but here's to...er..HOPING.

Onward in 2009...and downward!

~