Today I am getting a little personal, talking about my love affair with hearty fatty awesome tasting food – and why it’s time to break up.
Let’s start at the beginning… I grew up in a family that ate home cooked meals together all the time. On Sundays Grandma cooked and everyone showed up. No excuses, you were there. And boy could she cook. For 24 years my plates had the same theme: bread, butter, meat, potato. (We Scandinavians need our “meat and potato” meals you know). At home Mom & Dad always cooked similar meals. Don’t get me wrong, we also had veggies, milk, fruit – everything a growing athlete should. But my addiction to food had already been established. In school I was always in 2 or 3 Varsity sports, playing year round in local soccer clubs and teams. I was the awkward skinny girl with flamingo legs and buck teeth. (seriously. They looked pretty big). But I could eat what I wanted when I wanted.
By the time college hit there was no stopping it. Pizza. Beer. Bread. Cheese. Pop. Candy. 2am fast food binges. You name it. I ate it. There was no “after 9pm rule” or 8 cups of water a day. There was hangovers that were fought with leftover Pizza Luce and Mountain Dew, late night study sessions involving rows of mozzarella sticks and plates upon plates of Nachos. I started gaining weight, stopped working out and kept my habits the same.
Since then I have been in a wavy sea of fad diets, work out stints and wearing black leggings like its my job. Because my jeans are just too “uncomfortable”. Well no. I don’t fit into them. Frick. We have all been there at some point – the button is just a little too tight…and we bend and stretch and jump trying our hardest to make it work. Just don’t sneeze.
I started my “grown up” job and was convinced my eating habits were going to change. Why? I don’t know. I had some crazy idea that getting a full time job would make me look good in a pencil skirt and heels (um what? yah.) I can sit here and tell you that it was all the stress, the weird midnight shifts, the traveling restaurants – but really, it was me. It was my choices, my vices, my addiction. I love food. When I was feeling sad or mad or stressed I just called delivery and everything was better. For about the time it took me to inhale my spinach dip and cheese curds. Then it was that feeling of utmost disgust. I am 25 years old! They say that you look your best in your 20s – shit.
Please understand that I am not writing all of this for pity or nice words, but for someone out there to relate and feel better. On some of my worst binge food days I felt really alone. Whether you are a mom, student, have a full time job, whatever you are doing right now in your life – it happens. I am the biggest OCD control freak (hello 2 planners and sticky notes ruling my life) and I couldn’t even control myself. I found myself a mid-twenties female stepping on the scale and literally wanting to cry into a tub of ice cream. But you know what – I didn’t. I got mad. Really mad. How dare I do this to myself! I was raised by awesome role models who always taught me to be confident in my own skin – which this loudmouth lady is – but what I have done to myself if disrespectful. I would have never let someone treat me unkindly, so why would I allow myself to?
Today is a really big day in our house. It’s Restart day.
The fridge has been cleaned out and replaced with healthy alternatives. My nalgene is filled with water and I am bound and determined to get those 8 glasses a day in. My tennis shoes have been pulled out of the closet and I have a guy that has promised to help me stay on track. I was unhappy and today I can change that. So here I go – on a really hard journey. I am breaking up with my unhealthy lifestyle.
Ready, Set, GO.
Happy Restart Wednesday,