4.4.10

Neverending Battle

I'm fairly sure I've said it before, but I'll say it again:  I FUCKING LOVE FOOD.  Now, to be clear, I don't love food from all sources (Cheesecake Factory, PF Chang's, TGI Friday's, etc.), but I love food.  I'm always willing to give any food at least one fighting chance to win my heart.

Some of the foods I love:  lard-ridden tamales, burgers, ribs, foie gras, reduction sauces, anything Benedict, good pizza, Saigon curry, nut butters, Belgian fries, lamb chops, potato chips, Dungeness crab, oysters, clams, sausages of all varietes, schnitzel, buffalo tenderloin, rosemary pork loin, gnocchi with gorgonzola cream sauce, abalone, almost any non-processed cheese... You get the idea.

I can't possibly give up any of these foods forever.  And since there are so many of them, I am, at any given time, craving at least one of these things.  It's easy to lose the calorie war.

In order to even things out, I do a lot of yoga.  A lot of yoga.  And now that I'm 35, I find that the food gains ground more easily than it used to.  Which means that I have to moderate the intake more than I'd like or else I'll end up doing nothing between meals but yoga.  Now, I love yoga for a lot of reasons, but one of the biggest reasons is that it allows me to eat almost anything I want.

Matt insists that if I cross-trained I would stay ahead in the race.  I don't doubt this is true.  The problem is:  I hate exercise.  Running is boring, gyms are gross, spin is tedious and hard on the lady-parts...  I don't mind swimming, but trying to swim laps in a gym pool is ridiculous because there's always at least one 200 year-old gender-neutral person a few strokes from drowning in the dead center of the lap lane with the old-age-induced sense of entitlement to prevent everyone else from accomplishing anything.

Outdoor activities in Las Vegas are somewhat constrained by the weather, but I'll also have a hike or a walk when the weather (which is, admittedly, perfect right now) permits.  Overall, though, the only thing I like to do and therefore do with consistency is yoga.

I find it monumentally unfair that my body is designed to hold on to fat.  I find it unfair that food makes me fat.  I find it unfair that Matt can eat and drink almost anything and never gain a fucking pound.   I hate that I know what good food is and want to eat it all the time.  I hate that I know what good wine is and I want to drink it all the time. 

For the last couple of weeks my yoga schedule has been 'off'.  Between house-hunting and this stupid cold, I'm behind.  This coming week will be equally hard on my ability to reign victorious over the blasted calories.  I have to make a little deal with myself.  It's stupid, but it's what I have to do.

Since I know I won't be able to make it to yoga as often as I like or need to, I have to give myself a boring menu in between the times that we'll be going out with my beloved in-laws.  This boring menu consists of one egg, one chicken breast, one salad with one tablespoon of vinaigrette, and 28 sesame sticks.

Typically, I like to keep my net calories at 850.  So yes, I obsessively track what I put in my mouth, but it works.  So for the next week, I'm just working on holding my ground as best I can.  I know I'm being pushed slowly backwards and I'm okay with that as long as I can push back at the beginning of next week and kick (my own increasingly fat) ass.

It would be fine if food wasn't so delicious.  Alas, it is.  And I know it.  Therefore, I must make an effort not to be a whale.  It's a neverending battle, but one I will continue to fight because I can, and if I can, I must.

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