Let’s take this a little further. I believe I’ve stumbled on to one of the basic tenants of the “WHY” portion of my weight-loss dilemma.
I like food.
Here’s where I get stubborn: French Women? Don’t get fat. They eat, the French eat, the Dutch eat, the Germans, mygod do they eat. But they don’t struggle with the same medical issues that we in the US do. I do believe on one hand it’s a simple solution: Calories in vs Calories out. But there is more than just math involved. There’s an entire culture involved. There’s history. There’s the agri-business. There’s an entire western culture built on more, bigger, better, and corn*.
Ultimately I think I should be able to ENJOY food. To truly love food. To savor the community it provides, the atmosphere of joy. Eating should be fun. Hell, drinking IS fun. I cross my arms and pout like a four year old that I should be ABLE to drink and IT’S NOT FAIR because a whole nation of people enjoy the love of red wine and alcohol and nobody things a bloody thing about it; and don’t you watch Mad Men where people drink whisky all afternoon?
So lies the struggle, the internal justification. Why should *I* not be able to have those same things others enjoy?
I guess because it really isn’t working for me.
Because I have a desk job.
Because I have two small children.
Because I work full time and have to choose wisely the things I do otherwise: Run or Drink? Bike, Walk or Ride?
I’m starting to make some better decisions; meeting with a friend to walk instead of have drinks, take the kids to the park and play with them instead of a play area where I sit. Those kind of baby steps toward moving more, eating less.
And yet I struggle. At night. For social parties. Because I love a good beer.
I know it can be done. A good friend of mine stopped drinking to watch her weight and found out, BEHOLD! it worked. I’ve talked with Karen about this topic a million times. It’s a choice. It’s calories. On every diet everywhere it says “no room for alcohol.”
I’ve seen women kick the alcohol habit and live to tell about it. I wonder if I can do the same. Do I need regulations? Do I need regimented calorie counting to prove there’s no room for empty calories? Or do I tell myself it’s a substance like any other type of food, like chocolate, like popcorn (my downfall), and that moderation is key.
None of that has worked thus far.
And so lies the quandary. There it is- the problem without a solution. If you have one, I’ll take it. If you gave up drinking to better your body and soul, I’d like to know. If you battle the buldge and win, I want to know how. Ultimately, though, as I said before, it’s not in the knowing, it’s in the doing.
I’m ready to be the doing.
*After reading In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto, I felt empowered to change our eating in to a more natural food source and am making home-made bread, home-cooked meals and the like. Now, reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals I realize the WHY I am changing my diet and, for the first time in my life, am ready to eat “responsibly grown” meat sources and local fresh foods. Only. It’s true- I’ve finally gonen hippie on our food.