When I was a teen, I plastered my room with posters of my heartthrobs. The Bee Gees greeted me every morning with their pearly whites and flowing manes, Gino Vannelli peered into my soul with his smoldering brown eyes, and Erik Estrada was the sexy Latino hottie that rounded out my hunk collection.
What can I say, I used to like them hairy and wearing just enough spandex to leave nothing to the imagination. However, it was another poster depicting an equally furry 70s icon that garnered the coveted spot over my bed… Meet Baby.
Right now, I feel like Baby as January just about did me in! It started and ended with a funeral; there was a confirmation; a family dilemma to deal with; a three-day departmental event to plan and execute; my daughter’s engagement, and the frenzied joy that comes with planning a long-distance wedding. Whew! I feel like I packed a year’s worth of living in 31 days, and regrettably, I consumed a year’s worth of calories to get me through it.
I’m embarrassed to report that I didn’t lose any of the weight I gained over the holidays. Actually, I added 1.5 lbs more to my cellulite collection. I didn’t keep a food journal over the last few weeks, not because I was too busy, but I grazed day and night, and would have given myself carpal tunnel if I jotted down every morsel I ingested.
It’s no mystery how I gained it, I just don’t know why I continue to do this to myself. Last year’s experiment proved I am quite capable of sticking to a diet – 12 in succession, in fact – so why do I find myself in this familiar, perilous situation where one more bite could be my downfall?
Regardless of all the valuable lessons I learned while testing 12 in 12, I seem to have reactivated my default setting of eat first, deal with the consequences later. Food continues to be how I reward, punish, medicate, pacify, and numb myself.
Just writing this post, I’ve paced back and forth to the fridge half-a-dozen times. I don’t know what I expect to find in there as I don’t keep junk food in the house anymore. However, when I set foot outside these four-walls, anything goes. Sometime, the calories find me, like when I went to book the venue for my daughter’s wedding last week, and the sales rep offered me a double-chocolate chip cookie as we toured the site. I ate it knowing full well it would not get me any closer to rocking a stunning mother-of-the-bride dress. Or I’m the culprit, like when I arranged the catering for my departmental meetings and ordered enough sugary treats to give everyone diabetes.
I’m not saying I didn’t eat healthy – actually, I prepared several nutritious meals over the last 2 weeks, but I peppered my days with everything the surgeon-general warns you about.
So here I am, holding on for my dear diet life yet again. I have one of two choices: succumb to my binges and come crashing down, or hang in there until I regain my focus and get myself to solid ground.
For January’s Measure Up results, click here.