Today I am trying to focus. But not on food. My tummy is rumbling and 40 ounces of water are swishing around. Prior to infertility treatment 7 years ago and 3 subsequent pregnancies, food was always my friend. BFF I believed. Now, food is my frienemy. A love hate relationship that pulls at my heart strings.
Our cupboards contain little junk food. Maybe a bag of tortilla chips, a box of crackers, or perhaps some white rice. Since the beginning of Lent, I’m still candy free and have indulged in only one pop. Where are the hidden culprits? Processed food. In the last year in an attempt to save some money, our cupboards have slowly filled with more and more processed food. There, my friends, is my enemy.
Last night, daughter and I went to the supermarket and loaded up on fresh veggies and fruit. Instead of the kids evening snack of pretzels, they begged for carrots and celery with a side of peanut butter. Great choice, I encouraged. Tonight’s meal is pork chops with sauteed apples and steamed broccoli on the side. Step #1, good. Cooking is like a game to me, so changing our daily eating regimen is just a new rule for me to master.
The next step is to add in more exercise. I have been counting running around chasing kids, family walks, or hiking up and down stairs as my daily exercise. Yes that hardly cuts it. We have an elliptical machine in the playroom that the kids are always “riding” on. Guess, I need to enjoy the ride and hop on.
Last night I dusted off the scale and boldy stepped on. While the number was not surprising, it wasn’t as bad as I thought. I can do this. No problem I thought. Downloading a weight tracker app, I punched in the numbers. Whew, that wasn’t hard either.
And then there’s today. It’s maniac today. Trying to block out the constant thoughts of food is tiring. Can I do it? Can I make it through a day? A week?
I’m a cook. Food is a passion. Frienemy beware, I’m coming to take you down.