My more astute readers will have noticed that, aside from yesterday’s post about Saturday, I haven't really been blogging this week. (They will have been able to tell this by the absence of any entries posted between last Friday and yesterday. I told you they were smart.)
I have also not been running.
I have, however, been eating.
It started on Saturday after the run. I finished and went straight to the snacks table, as is my custom. I started reasonably enough, with a banana and peanut butter, and just kept going, after I got home, after I went back out again, after I came home again for the night. Food tried to run away, but I was stronger and faster, and it all went into my tummy. But I had just run for over two hours, so I wasn’t particularly worried about it. I had burned a squidillion calories (as calculated by this site) so even if many of the replacement calories did come from gummi bears and cookies and cheese, well, I deserved it.
The problem is that the running didn’t continue, but the eating did. Over the past few days, there have been cookies and brownie sundaes (yes, plural) and handfuls from coworkers' candy bowls and more cookies and good lord has it been delicious.
Except this is not The Plan. The Plan involves eating healthily with the occasional indulgence. Filling up on good calories and then treating myself and also exercising regularly.
I feel the need to break in here and do the “I am not anorexic” dance. It seems that making healthy choices is occasionally a worrisome trait in a girl—a sign of imminent Eating Disorder.
(I find the Anorexic Check almost as amusing as I find the Sexual Harassment Caveat, which I hear when male coworkers try to compliment me on the visual effects of my new relative physical fitness—and trust me, the compliments are always worded that awkwardly. I like compliments. I will not sue.)
Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that my friends care enough to worry, and I've performed an Anorexic Check or two in my day, but, trust me, I’m eating. I eat constantly. I eat all day long at work and then I go home and eat more, and then I eat dinner, and then I eat some more. This is normal for me, and how I’ve always been. The only difference recently has been what I eat.
I bring three kinds of fruit to work every day. I snack on crunchy vegetables and hummous. I cook with whole grains and more fresh vegetables. I leave off the cheese (well, mostly). And the sour cream. And for dessert I have a fat free yoghurt or sweetened cereal.
Not always, of course. I love chocolate and chocolate loves me, and we will never part ways. But since The Plan, it’s been a subdued love affair. When an overseas colleague brought me a gigantic bag of Swiss chocolates when she came to the main office for meetings (okay, now I'm just doing this to torture you all. My job has downsides, too, y'all don't know), I gave most of them away, and ate only small portions over the course of the next couple weeks.
So let's agree that I'm not anorexic. And let's also agree that I can eat whatever I damn well want, whenever I want, whether it's leafy and green or fudgy and not. But let's further agree that what I WANT is to feel healthy and energized, and not feel leaden and uncomfortable during my runs, as I did when I finally got off my butt and stopped eating long enough to get outside last night.
So let's agree that starting today, I'm back on The Plan.
I have also not been running.
I have, however, been eating.
It started on Saturday after the run. I finished and went straight to the snacks table, as is my custom. I started reasonably enough, with a banana and peanut butter, and just kept going, after I got home, after I went back out again, after I came home again for the night. Food tried to run away, but I was stronger and faster, and it all went into my tummy. But I had just run for over two hours, so I wasn’t particularly worried about it. I had burned a squidillion calories (as calculated by this site) so even if many of the replacement calories did come from gummi bears and cookies and cheese, well, I deserved it.
The problem is that the running didn’t continue, but the eating did. Over the past few days, there have been cookies and brownie sundaes (yes, plural) and handfuls from coworkers' candy bowls and more cookies and good lord has it been delicious.
Except this is not The Plan. The Plan involves eating healthily with the occasional indulgence. Filling up on good calories and then treating myself and also exercising regularly.
I feel the need to break in here and do the “I am not anorexic” dance. It seems that making healthy choices is occasionally a worrisome trait in a girl—a sign of imminent Eating Disorder.
(I find the Anorexic Check almost as amusing as I find the Sexual Harassment Caveat, which I hear when male coworkers try to compliment me on the visual effects of my new relative physical fitness—and trust me, the compliments are always worded that awkwardly. I like compliments. I will not sue.)
Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that my friends care enough to worry, and I've performed an Anorexic Check or two in my day, but, trust me, I’m eating. I eat constantly. I eat all day long at work and then I go home and eat more, and then I eat dinner, and then I eat some more. This is normal for me, and how I’ve always been. The only difference recently has been what I eat.
I bring three kinds of fruit to work every day. I snack on crunchy vegetables and hummous. I cook with whole grains and more fresh vegetables. I leave off the cheese (well, mostly). And the sour cream. And for dessert I have a fat free yoghurt or sweetened cereal.
Not always, of course. I love chocolate and chocolate loves me, and we will never part ways. But since The Plan, it’s been a subdued love affair. When an overseas colleague brought me a gigantic bag of Swiss chocolates when she came to the main office for meetings (okay, now I'm just doing this to torture you all. My job has downsides, too, y'all don't know), I gave most of them away, and ate only small portions over the course of the next couple weeks.
So let's agree that I'm not anorexic. And let's also agree that I can eat whatever I damn well want, whenever I want, whether it's leafy and green or fudgy and not. But let's further agree that what I WANT is to feel healthy and energized, and not feel leaden and uncomfortable during my runs, as I did when I finally got off my butt and stopped eating long enough to get outside last night.
So let's agree that starting today, I'm back on The Plan.
posted by Noames at 9:17 PM
6 Comments:
You know, Noames, you just need a little discipline in your life. We'll send over a personal training Nazi to keep you straight and ply you with compliments.
I am proud to say I've still got half a sleeve of shortbread Girl Scout cookies in my desk drawer that I've nibbled through, slower than a mouse, for over a month. My secret? I go around to other departments where all the ladies put out treats to stop us too-weak-to-walk-by types. So, honestly, we're all in this together. Let's run.
You have the right attitude toward the whole eating thing. The Plan is a good one. I live on The Plan and it's a good life. But once in a while I slip away to follow The Bad Diet. The one thing I have learned is that I cannot compensate for poor dietary habits with exercise. It's just not feasible. I've written in my journal a few times about this. Here's one entry:
http://www.livejournal.com/~bd1/2004/10/19/
So I like The Plan. And I like to run. Good combination, that.
I am so with you. After maintaining my weight for three years, it's beginning to creep up. If I go off The Plan for a couple of days, THERE it is. Arrrgghh.
I am laughing out loud. Especially at the awkward compliments from male co-workers. Your Plan sounds really quite marvelous. And if you run for two hours, you pretty much have to eat constantly or you might fall over. You go girl!
The Plan says you should go to bed early tonight so you don't lose an hour's sleep.
It's your life and your choice as to what you eat on a meal-by-meal (or minute by minute) basis, so just make more choices that are healthy than not and you're on the right track. (You definitely don't sound even close to anoretic to me.) :-)
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