For the past, oh I don’t know, six months, I’ve been trying to get into the habit of doing the 21 Day Fix program. Of course, we eat healthy in our home, but I have to admit that I’m weak when it comes to food.
I make brownies, I make cookies, I allow myself to indulge in pizza, and I have a complete and utter weakness for mayo, Thousand Island dressing, bread, cheese, and pasta.
In other words, I love food.
And, with my love of food, sometimes I eat more than I should in a day.
Couple too many calories with the fact that I don’t like to workout and would rather use that time to write, I have to admit that the whole diet and excerise habit hasn’t really taken off very well.
I’ve lost some weight, gained it back, lost some more, gained it back again.
I didn’t know who was suffering from whiplash more—me or the scale.
And, then it hit me.
To quote probably the best scene I’ve ever heard in the movie Eat Pray Love regarding this subject—
Liz: I’m in love. I’m having a relationship with my pizza. You look like you’re breaking up with your pizza. What’s the matter?
Sofi: I can’t.
Liz: What do you mean you can’t? This is Pizza Margherita in Napoli, it is imperative to eat and enjoy that pizza.
Sofi: I want to, but I’ve gained like ten pounds. I mean, I’ve got this. . .right here in my tummy, you know this. . .what’s it called? What’s the word for it?
Liz: A muffin top. I have one too.
Sofi: I unbuttoned my jeans like five minutes ago just looking at this.
Liz: Lemme ask you a question, in all the years you’ve ever undressed for a gentleman–
Sofi: —it hasn’t been that many.
Liz: Alright. Has he ever asked you to leave? Has he ever walked out, left?
Liz: Because he doesn’t care. He’s in a room with a naked girl. He’s won the lottery. I’m so tired of saying no and waking up in the morning and recalling every single thing I ate the day before. Counting every calorie I consumed so I know exactly how much self-loathing to take into the shower. I’m going for it. I have no interest in being obese; I’m just through with the guilt. So this is what I’m going to do, I’m going to finish this pizza and then we’re going to go watch the soccer game and tomorrow we’re going to go on a little date and buy ourselves some bigger jeans.”
Which is just what I did—I bought some bigger jeans.
Just as with the Liz, I, too, have no interest in being obese. However, I’m also sick of the guilt. I’m sick of the counting and self loathing when I cheat. Life shouldn’t be lived in a constant state of “I’m so fat. I hate my body. I wish I was skinny. I’m sure people think I’m gross.”
It just shouldn’t.
For me, losing weight is difficult. I could eat a strict diet and workout an hour everyday and still even weeks later, my weight loss is a big old goose egg. I know, I’ve gone through the heartbreak of that scenario before.
Whether the reason is stress, age, or something else, I don’t really know. I am working on trying to figure it out, but until then, there really isn’t anything else I can do other than just keep my chin up and continuing to eat as healthy as I can and keep up with my walking/jogging.
While I still desire to be trim and fit, until that day comes, I’m not going to beat myself up anymore over the extra pounds around my middle. It’s just not worth it and it only makes everything worse.