06-06-2005 - 6:34 p.m.
I'm surprised my profile is still up and running. I thought diaryland would have shut it down by now -- it's been, what, four months since I last wrote here? I guess this diary and I were just meant to be!
Of course, the past four months have been a psychomess of yo-yo dieting. If you've read me before, you know the drill: I go on a brand new diet, do great for a week, get tripped up on some social eating event, spiral into a binge spree, put on gross amounts of weight, and repeat. I wanted to come back here when I'd made some real progress, dropped a good ten pounds, but it wasn't working out. On the bright side, I have learned more about myself and my relationship with food during this time. I honestly feel better equipped with knowledge and more empowered than ever before:
I'm no longer concerned with super speedy results. I've been chubby so long, there's no sense in trying to rush my way back to thinness like I used to accomplish back in the day. Those days are long gone -- at this point it's not gonna happen.
I know eating small meals and snacks all day long, constantly, is the only way to keep me satisfied and not preoccupied with food. I just don't allow myself to get hungry or bored because I always have a series of pre-planned snacks to munch on.
Eating baby carrots and fruits for snacks gets easier after a while. I just get used to it, and it makes me feel good to nourish my body.
That said, I also need a real dessert every day. My sweet tooth is a beast. I need to make room for a full cup of ice cream, a pudding cup, a significant amount of cookies, a piece of cake, something that I really want. Every day. It might sound crazy, but this is what I have to do. It can work if I plan well and secure proper balance with my other foods.
Oh yeah, and I need to eat up to 1,300 calories a day. No more obnoxious 1,000-calorie shit.
Exercise has got to be at least five times a week, but that doesn't mean killing myself at the gym. I can take a 45-minute class and be done with it. I can walk uphill on the treadmill for 40 minutes and be out. I can jog around the track in the park and call it a day. Vigorous, but without the multiple-routine overkill workouts that I used to attempt.
It's not about the scale. It only depresses me, de-motivates me, and makes me all obsessive compulsive. It's better to gauge my progress by how my body looks and how my clothes feel (although know I have a good 20 pounds to lose).
I don't have to be perfect every day. This is not a crash diet, but a lifestyle change that I should be able to keep up forever.
I've been back on the wagon since Saturday, and I am finally in The Zone. That focused and determined (but not overly stressed and unrealistically strict) place that can be so elusive and hard to find. I was supposed to go to the gym immediately after work today, but it was raining and I just unraveled the twists in my hair. One drop of moisture equals a rat's nest (forgot my umbrella), and I've got another five days until my next hair appointment, so this black woman couldn't leave the office til it let up. At least the wait brings me back to diaryland!
And on that note, it's time to get out of here because it has stopped. Gotta get home to my tasty dinner of chicken and vegetable stir-fry with peanut sauce. If anyone's reading, thanks for hanging in there with me and taking the time to drop by. Til next time (and, I promise, there really will be a next time)!
