A few days ago, I was talking to a CP about doing a treat reward with writing. Write so many words and then get a yummy treat! Sounds like a great idea but I opted out.
Why? I've got food issues.
It didn't used to be this way. All through high school, I could eat pretty much what I wanted and stay the same weight. I was never the skinny-mini, nor was I overweight. I gained the freshman fifteen at college (and after) but lost it on a very unhealthy diet of a supersized McDonald's meal once a day (no joke). Even during four pregnancies, I gained the appropriate amount of weight, 30-35lbs, and even though it got harder after each birth to lose it again, I always did.
Once number four was born, I decided I'd really get in shape. I'd exercise. I wanted to look good and lose that baby belly. So I went on Weight Watchers. I didn't actually go to the meetings or get weighed, but I did it all at home. I kept a food diary, keeping track of every single thing I put in my mouth and how many points it was worth. I obsessed over food. It became all I thought about. On cheat days, I would gorge myself so bad on junk, I'd make myself sick.
I'm not gonna lie, Weight Watchers worked. And I'm not knocking the program- if you use it right, you get results, while still getting to eat foods that you love. I weighed less than I did in high school. I thought I had it all under control so I went off the program. I already knew what I should and shouldn't eat and how big portion sizes should be. It would be easy, right?
Hahahahahaha. (That's me, laughing maniacally at myself.) I gained it all back plus some. DUH. For awhile, I didn't care. I thought, no one else cares about how much I weigh except me, so why bother? I want to enjoy life, not starve. I felt sort of like this:
Then I saw a picture of myself while in Hawaii and thought ICK. So I tried the LoseIt app. Then quit. Then tried again. Then quit. I exercised. Then quit. Then exercised. Then quit.
See what I mean about issues? I eat when I'm stressed. When I'm tired. When I'm in a bad mood. Not only that, but I LOVE food. The good stuff as well as most of the bad. In fact, I'm surprised that I haven't been bigger, gained more. (Thank you metabolism. I guess you're still chugging away.)
I needed a change. I didn't want to go back to obsessing over food to the point that it controlled my life. Nor did I want to go back to not caring. So I decided that I needed an in-between. I needed to just Make. Better. Choices.
I don't keep a food diary, I don't measure out portions. But I go for healthier things. Instead of a two cheeseburgers meal and regular fries at McDonald's, I eat a grilled chicken snack wrap and a small fries. Instead of eating chimichangas for lunch (LOVE those), I eat a lot of salads. (Funny enough, I eat more salads now than I did on Weight Watchers. I think it's because I don't have to measure out each portion of vegetables.) When I eat something I probably shouldn't have (like last night's mozza sticks and Whopper Jr.), I don't beat myself up about it. Also, I've exercised pretty consistently since January. I've gotten enough into a routine that it doesn't take much thought to do it. I even enjoy it- or more likely, I enjoy the TV shows I watch while doing it.
I'm trying to get a better mentality when it comes to food. I'm trying to make those better choices. This is something I know I'll wrestle with my entire life, and it doesn't just have to do with food, but with my mental state (that sounds bad). This is something I definitely cannot connect with my writing.
So wish me luck, or give me a kick in the pants if you see me eating chips.