I love food. Right behind The Hero, The Kid and The Girl, food has to be fourth in line. I love cooking, baking and eating. Going to the grocery store is a joy and I’ll drive to four different stores, if necessary, to get everything I want and need for my weekly celebrations called breakfast, lunch and dinner. I subscribe to about ten different food and baking blogs (down from at least 20) and have filled two four-inch binders with recipes from chocolate chip cookies to Beef Wellington. Food is love.
Until it’s not.
During the last year or so, things changed. I started baking cakes. With baking comes taste testing and since I will NOT send out a nasty cake, I was a sampler at all stages from batter to frosting. My eating and exercise habits also changed, along with my way of looking at both. The exercise decreased and the eating increased. When it first started, I was at an active job, so it made sense to eat more because I was burning serious calories. Then I moved to the sedentary, but significantly more rewarding, desk job. However, my eating habits didn’t change and what was a manageable weight turned into something… different.
Those that know me probably think ‘oh… she just hit the gym hard and got it under control”. Think again. I decided that until the clothes were uncomfortably tight and The Hero actually said, in nice terms, that I’d become a chunker, I would enjoy being carefree about eating, sitting and spreading.
And then THAT day came: the day when my ‘big’ pants were cutting deep into my newly expanded waistline and I had the red ring of shame to go with it. The fabric was straining so hard to hold in hips and ass that I had to do the old-man lift before I sat down. That, my friends, was all I could stand. Something had to change. The Hero, also aware of his own expansion, suggested we try eating serving sizes.
That’s when it gets funny. We went shopping and bought all the same things we normally get: snacks, cereal, pasta, etc. When we got home, I packaged everything according to serving size. Did you know that a serving size of Ritz is 10 crackers? Not a sleeve. Instead of about four servings per box of Honey Nut Cheerios, I could actually get almost 10 servings out of the same box. Of course that means there’s still milk left at the end of the week. Four ounces almost drowns one serving of Cheerios. And don’t get me started on graham crackers….
The result? I’m down four pounds since Saturday. I believe The Hero is down the same or more. And I wore those same pants sans the red ring of shame. I feel better and I don’t have the itis after eating. I still haven’t managed to fully commit to hitting the gym regularly – or not smashing half of a Little Caesar’s pepperoni pizza – but I feel better stretching my dollars and contracting my waistline.