Unfortunately, I have a pretty serious sugar addiction. I come by it honestly- I'm not kidding when I say it's a family trait. One year, I was with my extended family in Texas for Thanksgiving. I stayed with my Aunt C, whom I have seen only a handful of times in my whole life. When we all woke up on Thanksgiving morning, I waltzed into the kitchen where she and my cousin were drinking coffee and chatting. My Aunt saw me and said "Morning, Honey! Here's the coffee. I'll run out to the garage and grab the pies." We proceeded to eat slices of Thanksgiving pie for breakfast, with our coffee. It was 8:30am. She didn't even ask what I wanted for breakfast! She barely knows me, really. But she knows I'm in her family. And no one in our family refuses pie for breakfast. EVER.
When you hike the Appalachian Trail, you go by a "trail name." Part of the culture on the AT, most everyone uses them in lieu of their real name for the duration they're on the AT. It's a thru hiker thing- not really for folks who are just hopping on for a weekend or a few miles. I aspire to hike a significant portion of either the AT or the PCT one day, and will likely adopt a trail name (even though trail names are not common on the PCT, I decided I just like the practice, so I'll do it). My name, without a doubt, will be Sugar. It just fits too perfectly.
I typically talk about my sugar addiction pretty tongue-in-cheek. To be honest, it's really my Achilles heel. It is a struggle for me, in a very real way. In the same way that some folks can't seem to say no to another beer, or no to another cigarette, I can't say no to another brownie... another cupcake. The difference is that my "addiction" is socially acceptable. There are no signs on the doors of restaurants that say "No Cupcakes," and none of my friends will look at me funny if I say "You know what would really make today perfect? A piece of coconut cream pie!" So I get away with it, and try like heck to limit my sugar intake on my own. I pretty much fail most of the time.
Now that I have about 15 extra pounds around my middle following my second pregnancy (well, and distributed quite evenly throughout my body), my sugar addiction is really haunting me. I lost 28 pounds in the first two weeks after Pumpkin (my daughter) was born, but have not lost a pound in the 7 weeks since then. I have started running again, and my knees are already injured. Yesterday, I spent 6 hours driving home from my mom's house, and my feet were swollen when I got out of the car. I blame both of these things on the fact that I have 15 extra pounds on my frame, and I am not eating and drinking the way I need to be. The injury, and then yesterday's feet swelling episode were huge wake-up calls for me. I have babies to chase, marathons to run, and a whole helluva lot of backpacking to do. My dreams don't belong in a body that is limited by her weight, or by an unhealthy relationship with food. I've gotta get on it.
So, I'm on it. Today is the first day of the end of my 15 extra pounds. I started out with a big bowl of old fashioned oatmeal with a tablespoon of brown sugar and a handfull of walnuts, with a side of fresh sliced strawberries. My lunch was a half of a homemade low-fat tuna salad sandwich, with a side of greek peach yogurt mixed with 1/4c of granola. For dinner, we are having honey-mustard chicken, with oven-roasted brown rice and wilted spinach. No more dessert, and no more processed sugar. I bought this book over the weekend, and while I don't see myself actually becoming a vegan anytime soon, I am looking forward to reading it, and learning about ways to incorporate this diet into our lives.
I lost about 35 pounds back in 2001, using Weight Watchers online. I remember journaling back then that nothing tastes as good as being thin feels. I am not doing this for vanity's sake (although I do want to feel better about the way I look). I'm doing this because I FEEL better, physically, when I am capable of living the life I want to live- a life of activity, of running, of playing hard and working hard. And I want to live this life for as many years as I can. I'm not going to live this dream by indulging my every whim. It's not going to be easy. But, you know what? It's time. Pure and simple.
It's just time.
When you hike the Appalachian Trail, you go by a "trail name." Part of the culture on the AT, most everyone uses them in lieu of their real name for the duration they're on the AT. It's a thru hiker thing- not really for folks who are just hopping on for a weekend or a few miles. I aspire to hike a significant portion of either the AT or the PCT one day, and will likely adopt a trail name (even though trail names are not common on the PCT, I decided I just like the practice, so I'll do it). My name, without a doubt, will be Sugar. It just fits too perfectly.
I typically talk about my sugar addiction pretty tongue-in-cheek. To be honest, it's really my Achilles heel. It is a struggle for me, in a very real way. In the same way that some folks can't seem to say no to another beer, or no to another cigarette, I can't say no to another brownie... another cupcake. The difference is that my "addiction" is socially acceptable. There are no signs on the doors of restaurants that say "No Cupcakes," and none of my friends will look at me funny if I say "You know what would really make today perfect? A piece of coconut cream pie!" So I get away with it, and try like heck to limit my sugar intake on my own. I pretty much fail most of the time.
Now that I have about 15 extra pounds around my middle following my second pregnancy (well, and distributed quite evenly throughout my body), my sugar addiction is really haunting me. I lost 28 pounds in the first two weeks after Pumpkin (my daughter) was born, but have not lost a pound in the 7 weeks since then. I have started running again, and my knees are already injured. Yesterday, I spent 6 hours driving home from my mom's house, and my feet were swollen when I got out of the car. I blame both of these things on the fact that I have 15 extra pounds on my frame, and I am not eating and drinking the way I need to be. The injury, and then yesterday's feet swelling episode were huge wake-up calls for me. I have babies to chase, marathons to run, and a whole helluva lot of backpacking to do. My dreams don't belong in a body that is limited by her weight, or by an unhealthy relationship with food. I've gotta get on it.
So, I'm on it. Today is the first day of the end of my 15 extra pounds. I started out with a big bowl of old fashioned oatmeal with a tablespoon of brown sugar and a handfull of walnuts, with a side of fresh sliced strawberries. My lunch was a half of a homemade low-fat tuna salad sandwich, with a side of greek peach yogurt mixed with 1/4c of granola. For dinner, we are having honey-mustard chicken, with oven-roasted brown rice and wilted spinach. No more dessert, and no more processed sugar. I bought this book over the weekend, and while I don't see myself actually becoming a vegan anytime soon, I am looking forward to reading it, and learning about ways to incorporate this diet into our lives.
I lost about 35 pounds back in 2001, using Weight Watchers online. I remember journaling back then that nothing tastes as good as being thin feels. I am not doing this for vanity's sake (although I do want to feel better about the way I look). I'm doing this because I FEEL better, physically, when I am capable of living the life I want to live- a life of activity, of running, of playing hard and working hard. And I want to live this life for as many years as I can. I'm not going to live this dream by indulging my every whim. It's not going to be easy. But, you know what? It's time. Pure and simple.
It's just time.
I hear ya! I'm hanging on to about 8 pounds. I'm afraid of dieting because I don't want it to affect my milk supply but I could eat better. Im so hungry all the time and turn to te worst things. And I'm not finding time to exercise because by the time I get to sit down it's 8:30 and I just want to go to bed because mead is still up 2-3 times a night. Ugh! Good luck!
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