I just have a few thoughts to share today.
First, a report.
Yesterday
(Wednesday 9-4-13): 66% on plan + blessings
I stayed on plan through breakfast and lunch yesterday. Just eating my lunch, that I brought to work,
is a big accomplishment for me. In the past I’ve frequently gotten derailed by
lunch time. I felt like eating what I had brought (WFPB) was a punishment or
something to slog through. Without considering the promises in the Word of
Wisdom, and approaching it strictly from a medical science standpoint, I did
not feel that there were any immediate rewards this way of eating. And since it wasn't as pleasurable as eating SAD, well, I consistently gave in to my baser instincts and then felt down on myself for doing so. I wanted to achieve
weight loss… but that would take so long anyway that wouldn’t “tomorrow” be as
a good a day as “today” to really commit? And so my reasoning would go and I’d
pick up fast food for lunch.
I’m working at a different building this school year, and I mostly stay at
the building all day. This is a HUGE change for me because I used to travel a
5-county area. I set my own schedule and could come and go from my office as I
deemed appropriate, making eating out much easier.
I had prepared a Mochi (pronounced moh-chee) crispy waffle as a
snack to have during the drive between work and school, knowing that I wouldn’t
get out of class until 7p.m. Mochi is a bit high on the calorie density scale
as it is made of extruded rice… but its fibrous, chewy, and feels substantial.
The first thing that greeted me at class was my friend
Bonnie, who had prepared a 7-layer bar treat for everyone. She had made these
for our cohort over the summer and I remembered well the incredible,
pleasurable assault on my taste buds. It was like a 5-alarm fire, except
instead of ashes and coal all ablaze it was confetti and party poppers and balloons
and happiness. It was too rich to eat more than a nibble at a time. And it left
me majorly jonesing for more and more and evermore sweets.
Interestingly, instead of feeling glad that Bonnie had
brought her bars again, I found myself searching for the wherewithal to
withstand temptation. I found it in the ingredient list. Bonnie had taken pains
to make the bars gluten-free and mostly
dairy-free to accommodate classmates’ food allergies, but she used butter in the
crust. From my baking days, I remember well
the look and scent of melted butter. And I found it unexpectedly off-putting.
Dare I even say, on a scale of ‘Yum! to Revolting,’ that it would have leaned
farther toward the latter?
After class I searched my feelings, curious as to whether I
would feel an increased need to have something off-plan, as compensation for
passing up such a treat, which would have been a 99.9% likelihood in the past.
I did not.
So you’d think that this would be the part of the retelling
where I write that I drove straight home and had a dinner of ‘beans and greens’
(except not beans, actually, because then this would be a story of vomit). Not so. I had run out of everything from my
prep on Monday: no more sweet potatos for green smoothies. Only one more waffle,
which was for the following day, and no more mashed potatoes. Plus, dinner on
plan was uncharted territory. And I had to go shopping. And I couldn’t possibly
do that without also getting a “treat” for my efforts, could I? (Said the voice
of Habit). So I picked up the few things
I needed to re-stock at Whole Foods and then I picked up Jimmy Johns. And I did
not enjoy it. Just sayin’.
Today (Thursday 9-5-13): 66% on plan + self-sabotage + blessings
Today was about the same as
yesterday. I didn’t have class and after work I checked in with myself in
regard to my feelings. I even had a mochi waffle in my lunch bag, which I’d
packed specifically because I knew that in the fabric of my day, the afternoon
was the weakest part. Checking in, I found that I was not hungry. Not craving
sweets. And didn’t crave JJ’s.
I was still pondering whether
I was really going to go straight home and eat at home when I realized that I’d
pulled out of the driveway of my office building and into the left-hand turn
lane. Toward home. I’d already pointed myself toward home without coming to a
firm conclusion. Was I comfortable with this?
The Voice of Habit and
Anti-Change took advantage of the moment of self-doubt and moved my car into
the right-hand turn lane, toward JJs. Traffic was awful. I kept thinking “I
could turn around right now. I could go back home. I could do it. In fact I remember
how I felt about butter yesterday and considering that cheese comes from the
same source, why I would want to put that in my body either?” And then The Voice replied “Sure you could go
home now. Absolutely you could. You’re in charge now. But you don’t have to, of
course. Its enough just to know you could. Don’t rush the changes. Tomorrow is
soon enough. And as for that cheese bit, well, you never think about it when
you’re eating it. Don’t worry about it. Tomorrow’s soon enough”
I’m afraid I listened to The
Voice. And what’s more, I collaborated
with The Voice. We decided to stop at a gas station and pick up a Butterfinger bar since we’d had one on
Monday and it was surprisingly kind of tasty. We got two.
Let me just tell you: both Butterfinger
bars? Like chewing flavored cardboard that’s been pulverized, re-injected with bulk and
crunchified. Kind of flavorless. Kind of pointless.
Coke? The last three times I’ve
drank it, its tasted either way too syrupy or like something I can’t describe
but the closest I can get is black pepper (I harbor no ill will toward black
pepper but I never add it to my food on purpose and I avoid it when possible…
okay, maybe a little ill will. Many a vegetable has been ruined with the
addition of black pepper. And don’t even get me started on mashed potatoes.
Ruining the ultimate comfort food…. Yeah, you’re right, I admit it. Black
pepper and I aren’t ever going to find our initials carved in the same heart). Anyway
I figure once might be a fluke. Twice? A coincidence. But three times? Three times
is a pattern. Apparently my body has decided to stop liking coke.
And the sandwich? Blah. Not
exciting at all. Not disgusting, mind you, but not the tap-dancing,
firework-popping, tastebud sensation it was at first.
My body...? Compared to how I
felt after breakfast and lunch: a little on the icky side right now.
Now I want to make something clear: my tastebuds do not
kick up their heels and dance for mashed potatoes and green beans. They enjoy peaches, green smoothies
with sweet potato and kale, and oatmeal waffles. They don’t feel deprived at
breakfast. But they’re also not craving broccoli, or collard wraps or stir fry
(actually I like stir fry, I’m just hung up on how to sauce it so I haven’t
attempted it recently).
It hasn’t been the 3 months that Dr. Esselstyn says is
needed for the fat receptor to down-regulate.
Heck, it hasn’t even been 3 days. And I’ve still been eating SAD for
dinner. So what gives?
I don’t know for sure but I have a two-part theory.
Part 1: Magical potatoes. I’ve struggled with the potato
thing before. I want to love potatoes. I want to enjoy eating cold baked
potatoes out of my hand like an apple. I embrace the idea of potatoes. But in reality, the only type of potatoes I’ve
ever liked- not just tolerated but genuinely liked- in my SAD-eating life are mashed potatoes.
So I wizened up and made garlic & onion mashed yellow potatoes
with soymilk and green beans. Its been pretty good. And I think its re-setting my taste buds and killing
my cravings. I would never have thought of this except that I’ve read many
times on the McDougall forums where people have testified that whenever they
get off track, all that is needed is a meal of potatoes for them to ‘re-set’
their taste buds and end the SAD cravings.
Magical Mashed Potatoes. Now there’s a way for Big Business
to cash in on a healthy lifestyle. Especially if they add butter and salt!
(Kidding).
Part 2: I’m thinking more and more about the Word of Wisdom,
and the blessings that I want to call my own, which are real and ‘now’ in
contrast to weight loss which takes time to manifest. I should clarify that by ‘now’ I mean the
blessings can begin now and grow as my obedience to the Word of Wisdom grows
and in conjunction with natural laws… Given the amount of excess fat I’m
carrying around, I don’t expect to be able to “run and not be weary” or even to
run at all, right away. I could have a heart attack or stroke tomorrow. I’m not
immune from the consequences of my actions up to now. But I can definitely have
a much, much better tomorrow, and tomorrow after that, and tomorrow ever after
as I learn and grow in this principle until someday (some day long, long into
the future) I’m perfected in it.
Two days ago I posed several questions on my blog. I’m going
to answer one today.
In what ways has the
Word of Wisdom been a part of my life up to now?
When the missionaries taught me about the Word of Wisdom,
they told me it was the easiest lesson they’d ever taught on the subject (I
have to say the Law of Chastity was pretty smooth sailing as well. I mean,
besides all of our stuttering and embarrassment, you know, as 18, 19 and 20
year-old single adults of the opposite sex having a discussion about sex).
I only know one way to make iced tea and it wasn't until I moved away from Phoenix that it occurred to me there must be others, because not everyone has nearly 365-day access to the sun: you put the tea bag in
a glass container, fill it with water and set it in the sun. I grew up doing
this almost daily. It was part of the after-dinner clean-up to make a new
pitcher of tea and set it on the stoop outside the front door. The following
afternoon we’d bring it inside, almost boiling hot, and put in the fridge to chill until
dinner when we poured iced tea for all the adults and water for the kids.
I could never get it close enough to my mouth to taste it, I
found the scent so repulsive.
Coffee was about the same. I never had to make it, but I
couldn’t, and still can’t, stand the smell of it. I did taste it once and that
was enough.
As for alcohol, my parents took the position that if we were
going to participate in underage drinking, they’d just as soon we did it at
home. So I was invited from a young age
to take sips of my parents’ alcoholic beverages… wine coolers, beer, kahlua
mixers. I didn’t care for any of it
enough to want my own. and by the time they started offering hard liquor I had figured out that if the fruit-infused stuff didn't taste good, there was no way I was going to enjoy that! And by the time I
was in High School I’d decided that I wasn’t going to drink because the risk of
alcoholism was too great, given my family history.
Regarding illicit drugs, I was simply never tempted. I developed a kooky scheme once to help my Dad
quit smoking by lighting up each time he lit up. But it was pretty easy to see
that wasn’t the best idea and I scrapped it in favor of baptism.
Are there blessings in obedience to a law that requires little
or no sacrifice or effort? Maybe. In temporal obedience, I suppose I have been
a recipient of temporal blessings: freedom from the diseases and addictions attached
to each of those substances.
Perhaps because I didn’t have to change my lifestyle, I wasn’t
forced to weigh the worth of the Gospel or of revealed scripture against my
favorite habits. Perhaps because I never before had given a close, in-depth
examination to the “dos” of the Word of Wisdom or to the promises, it has never
really been a spiritual principle for me. It seems that the timing is right and the Lord
is working in my life, right now, to prepare me to receive greater spiritual and temporal blessings.
I can’t wait to see how this unfolds.
