You may recall that on Monday I mentioned going back to My Fitness Pal for a bit to try and get a handle on my eating. Boy, has that been educational. And frustrating.
It’s amazing how much you can trick yourself into thinking that you generally eat “well.” You can ignore super-sized portions because it’s brown rice instead of white, or think that grilled cheese is a valid choice when paired with salad, or believe that eating dessert after every meal is acceptable. And then you wonder why the weight on the scale is creeping up. Why pants are a bit more snug. Why you feel uncomfortable in your own skin.
I had a wake-up call recently. One of my favorite pairs of summer work pants no longer fits. Granted, they were always a bit snug, but I could get them on, zip and button them, and wear them all day with no issues. Now, I can’t even pull them up over my butt. If it weren’t for the number on the scale, I could maybe believe that my butt is now just extra muscular because I’ve been running and working out so much.
But when your macros look like this:
…It’s not hard to understand why these things are happening. And when you only have 317 calories left in your daily allowance and it’s 3pm, it’s pretty plain that you’re not doing as well as you thought you were. In fact, you’re doing pretty poorly.
I (foolishly) assumed that as I started running more, I would automatically lose weight. Instead, I have used my extra calorie expenditure as an excuse to eat more and worse foods. I just ran 8 miles, give me that pasta! I deserve fro-yo, I went to the gym today! I am proving to myself the truth of the saying, “abs are made in the kitchen, not the gym.”
So now I feel the need to do a massive diet overhaul. Make better choices. Plan better. Prepare better. Actually, oh I don’t know, measure my servings instead of guessing. More protein, more veggies, and less sugar.
Unfortunately, healthy eating doesn’t come naturally to me. It’s not how I was raised. Growing up, most of our meals consisted of meat and starch with a side of starch. “Vegetable” was a four-letter word to my dad, and since he did all the cooking, I never tried or developed a taste for most vegetables–the only “vegetable” he ever made was corn. As an adult, I have had to learn to prepare and like vegetables that are second-nature to most people. Over time I’ve gotten better, but it’s still not my first instinct to order a side salad instead of fries, or prepare a vegetable with every meal.
I have started down this path so many times and only found frustration. Undoing 28 years of eating habits is REALLY HARD. Retraining your brain and your taste buds is REALLY HARD. Right now, I’m approaching the heaviest I’ve ever been, and if I were truly being “healthy” and eating well, I honestly wouldn’t mind so much. But I know that what I’m doing isn’t healthy, and with a family history like mine (type 2 diabetes, congestive heart failure, breast cancer, high blood pressure, high cholesterol and on and on), I can’t keep doing what I’m doing and expect to live a long, healthy life. Something’s got to give.
Logically, I know this doesn’t have to be all or nothing. I know that making healthy choices more often than not will make a huge difference. I know that small changes will add up. But I have a hard time even committing myself that far. Emotionally and irrationally, I’m afraid that I’ll “miss out on things” by adopting healthier eating habits. No more muffins at the office? No more maple creemees on a summer night? Is that really worth it? My little sister has an eating disorder, and I’m terrified of becoming like her. I don’t want to be so consumed with fear of being overweight that I’m afraid of food.
I know, I know it’s possible to find balance, I just haven’t found it yet. I need to keep struggling along and hope that as I keep trying, things keep falling into place.