August 2009

I’m in a weird blue-ish mood today. For some inexplicable reason, I am feeling “fat.” Yesterday I felt just fine. Nothing has changed. I had a good workout this morning, an excellent one, in fact. And yet I feel “fat.” I don’t know why.

This week I had my passport photos taken (for a big trip to faroff Canada, yay!). When I looked at my newly expired 10 year old passport, I saw myself ten years ago. I looked pretty chubby in the face and not too healthy. I wondered about what I will look like for my next passport, ten years from now. And it made me really sad. I realized that I don’t believe that this current healthy state will last. I have this weird dread feeling in the pit of my stomach, that one or five or ten years from now, I will be 50 or more pounds heavier, and will look back on the “now” me with a mixture of sadness and regret and longing. It’s enough to put me into a serious funk.

What is THAT about.

I think it’s that this state of health and fitness is very fragile. It’s new. I don’t really believe in it yet. And I think the only cure for this is time. Taking it one day at a time, holding onto it every day, every week, continuing to make good choices. And that hopefully these days, weeks and years will add up to a long time and one day I will be able to take it for granted and not worry that it will just (poof) vanish.

Maybe it’s like my marriage. When I first got married, I had no real faith that it would last. I WANTED it to, I really did, but I wasn’t sure it would really happen. I had had many relationships before my marriage, and they lasted for varying short amounts of time. So I didn’t have any experience to go by. I was not very secure or solid or confident in the early years of my marriage. But the years went by, and we went through hard times and wonderful times together. The relationship got tested. We changed, and we didn’t change. And now it’s been almost 21 years of marriage (come September). I don’t worry anymore that we can’t deal with challenges, or that it’s just going to vanish on me. I feel solid and comfortable and confident in it in a way that just wasn’t possible twenty years ago.

I wish I could be more sure of myself. I wish I could just KNOW that this is it, that I’m not going to lose sight of this. But I guess the only thing that will really make me feel that inside is time.

Interesting day today, foodwise. I got up and did my 5k lake walk/run this morning, then went to my regular WW meeting (as a member, not leader). I thought that today MIGHT be the day I achieved “Lifetime” status (ie, maintaining goal weight for 6 weeks) but since I missed a week while at camp, it’s not till NEXT week. I weighed in at exactly the same weight as last week, so was happy that this low has carried over. I was feeling good.

A few blocks away, there was a great street festival going on. I thought I’d stroll over there and check things out. It happened to be on the same street as this AWESOME bakery/pizza place. Not just regular pizza, but amazing gourmet pizza. I had not had this kind of pizza in months. MANY months. I wanted it. I thought, OKAY, it’s weigh-in day, you’re doing awesomely, you just did a 5k run/walk, it’s OKAY! I walked in.

There was a long line. For people who are trying to eat mindfully, long lines can be a good thing because they provide a nice pause, a “do you really want to do this?” pause. I stood in line for about five minutes. Then I walked out. I walked around the festival, checked out some great crafts, ran into some friends, chatted. I was walking back to my car and I walked back IN to the bakery. I reallllllllly wanted that pizza.

Guess what. They don’t make pizza on Sundays! 😦

I drove back to my own neighborhood where the farmers’ market was running. By this time I was getting SUPER hungry. I thought, I’ll get some nice roast chicken. (they have an awesome rotisserie on wheels there) But I did not want chicken. I wanted PIZZA. I distracted myself by wandering through the fruits and vegies, and tasting peaches and other good stuff. But pizzzzzzaaaaaaaaa was calling my name.

Luckily, there happens to be ANOTHER gourmet pizza place right next to the farmers’ market. I felt sort of weird going to this mecca of fresh produce, and eating… pizza. I went in. The pizza smell knocked me out. I ordered a slice of vegi pizza (artichokes, olives, pesto). Sat down in front of the tomato-and-basil stand and.. Enjoyed. Every. Bite.

I was so happy to eat that pizza. And I didn’t feel guilty. And I didn’t feel sick! I just loved it. It was so delicious.

And it made me really happy, although it was interesting that it took me ALL DAY and circling around pizza places like a shark before I finally “succumbed.” I think yes, I should think seriously and not be impulsive about it, but yeah, I can enjoy a piece of pizza if I want. I’m not going to instantly gain 25 lbs or fall down any Slippery Slope.

So all these big food “taboos” are crashing down. Macaroni and cheese, brownies, and now pizza. It’s not the end of the world, or my health, if I sometimes choose to eat these things. Yay.

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Having Faith It Will Last

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