Archive for the The Journey Category

Living a healthy lifestyle is easy. Cut calories. Move more. Multiply by time(C + M x T = weight loss). Anyone can do it. It’s just like quitting heroin. You take the one thing that comforts you—removes physical and emotional pain—and just stop taking it. Then go out and skip rope and smile. Everything is peachy now. All your friends are happy that you’re healthy, and you’re happy now that you’re healthy. You are happy, right? Because it’s easy, right? And life is now perfect because you have the perfect body and the perfect mindset and you mastered the formula. Because simply doing the math is easy, right?

Make no mistake, obesity is a curse. The physical effects of carrying around extra weight are devastating. But for most people, eating delicious food is a pleasurable activity that far outweighs the consequences. The mere sight of a cinnamon roll slathered with gooey icing literally makes me weak in the knees(I know, I encountered one this morning and drooled all over the glass it was safely secured behind). The crux of the problem lies in making a decision between satisfying the deep longing to weigh less and feel great and the immediate gratification of eating the cinnamon roll. Depending on who you are and where you are in the journey of life, the decision can be very complicated.

And then there is hunger. Our bodies demands to be fed. They scream for calories and water on a regular basis. Since soft drink companies have hornswoggled us into subsisting on flavored beverages, water has lost its luster. And because those soft drinks are laced with sodium, which only make us thirstier so we will drink more and buy more, our taste buds are hungry for more savory sensations. Unsatisfactorily, the abundance of flavorful foods only makes us “hungry” for more. The act of eating becomes like visiting an amusement park. We seek out culinary thrills only to become so addicted to the rush that there is no real satisfaction in indulging the senses. Pleasure + Pleasure = dissatisfaction. How else do you explain Little Ceasars bacon wrapped deep dish pizza? It seems that people are constantly trying to “up the ante” with food combinations that amaze and inspire(big bellies).

Lest I sound like a hypocrite(okay, I’m totally a hypocrite but let’s pretend I’m not), I want to tell you about a very flavorful experience I had yesterday. A friend invited me to lunch. When she asked what I would like to eat I responded, “something healthy—like salad or veggies.” I told her I have been struggling with my weight due to recent feasting and really needed to get back on track. She is working her way through a cookbook page by page and had rested on cheese fondue. I’ve never had fondue. And I know how fun it is to make a new recipe so I told her to go for it. When I arrived there was a heaping plate of veggies(asparagus, peppers, carrots, cucumbers) and a steaming pot of cheese dip. She had little forks for me to stab the veggies with and then dip into the fondue. It was all fun and games until I couldn’t stop eating the cheese dip. I told her, “This can’t possibly be healthy. It tastes too good!” I was literally scraping the bottom of the cheese pot for scraps when she looked at me and said, “Did you get enough?” I smiled and said yes, but what I really meant was, “Hell, no give me more!” One would think that all that tasty cheese dip would satisfy the longings of my (bottomless stomach) heart but I found myself topping it off with frozen yogurt, pizza and cookies for dinner. Every time I think I can enjoy a little savory sustenance, I flat out jump off the cliff of gastronomic sanity and am dashed to pieces on the rocks of regret. And that is how I found myself jogging at 6:00am with my bad knee and arthritic toes. Because I still hadn’t fully digested my dinner and felt like a garbage can full of heartburn and gas. If I know that certain foods will do bad things to me, why do I continue to eat them?

I don’t know why I can’t eat a little cheese dip and be satisfied. It’s unfair, really, but it is my reality. I get to choose between suffering as an obese person or suffering without tasty viddles as a “thinnish” person. I feel like I am standing on the middle of a teeter-totter with all my muscles tense while I wait for the wind to blow me the wrong way.

I realize I can sound pretty melodramatic about food. I apologize. I am fully aware of people who do not have food to eat today and are forced to suffer the desolation of their bodies due to hunger and malnutrition. Hunger is horrible. So forgive me for writing about vanity versus gluttony. Yes, I may be a selfish and greedy wretch but I am also addicted to the pleasure of eating. It, too, is horrible. I eat and I am not satisfied. And I am deeply troubled by my lack of self-control.

Saturday night I sat in a room of thin, well-groomed people who all lauded my transformation from 310 pound woman to 170 pound woman. It’s all so easy on paper. Eat less. Check! Exercise more. Check! Lose weight and look fabulous. Check! Check! Smile, nod and repeat. Did they see how many trips I made to the buffet? My husband did. He very wisely did not say a word. Why does our society make eating too much acceptable as long as we do not get fat doing it? Why are we so loathe to acknowledge the human being behind the exterior who suffers and struggles with addiction, loneliness and heartache? When will we stop pretending to be perfect and acknowledge that we are all fouled up in some way and need each other, as human beings, to help carry those heavy burdens?

Additionally, I could not walk this path without Jesus. That may sound weird to some people reading this and I hope I don’t offend anyone…. But despair creeps in so frequently. It would be so easy to let go and just eat myself to death. I want to be honest… I’ve had fantasies of doing just that. While many of my friends are very supportive and would do anything to help me, it is only by God’s grace to me in the form of complete love and total acceptance that I am able to dust off the cookie crumbs and keep trying to beat my food lust. He loves me when I eat cake, and he loves me when I eat vegetables. It is by believing in that love and fully embracing it in my frail and fallen state that I continue to try to live a healthy lifestyle. Because if maintaining an ideal weight was as simple as (C + M x T = weight loss), this blog would not exist.

So, it’s that time of year again. You know, the time when the trees bloom, the daffodils and tulips rise from the dead and morel mushrooms make their appearance. I’ve been driving myself crazy hiking through the woods, grubbing around in the dirt, digging through leaves and poking snails. Last night I had an interesting encounter with three deer who were staring at me through the trees as I stared back. I wanted to run up and give them a hug but I didn’t want to get kicked in the face or worse. However, I’m not having a very good mushroom year. Which really makes me grumpy.

Okay, let’s be clear, mushroom hunting is a very healthy activity. Hiking up ridges and down into valleys is definitely a good cardio workout. Bending and crawling through brush is kind of like strength training. And swinging my walking stick around definitely makes me feel like Chuck Norris so what could be wrong with that?

The truth is, I really have a severe mushroom obsession. It’s sad, really. I dream of mushrooms regularly throughout the year and come the end of March I begin to mentally salivate over the elusive morel. I honestly can’t say what it is. I don’t eat that many at a time, but I long to find the “mother lode” so that I can freeze them and have mushrooms with my dinner all year long. I will literally spending every waking moment I’m not at work conniving at ways to find my precious treasure. Last night I drove 30 minutes to my “secret” spots in the woods and came away with 2 measly mushrooms. I threw them on the counter with a careless air and my youngest beastlet squealed. “You found some!” I said, “Only two little ones. I think I’m going to throw them away.” He put his six-year-old fists on his hips and said in his sternest voice, “You are not! I will eat them!” Morels really are the mushroom gold at the end of the rainbow. I guess even two tiny morels are a treasure.

This past weekend we hiked around Cuiver River State Park. It was a truly lovely day. We saw wildflowers like Bluebells, and Dutchman’s breeches and many others I don’t know the names of. Sugar Creek was filled with water due to recent rain and we played in the riffles. But all day I was a Grumpy Gus. Where were the mushrooms? I simply could not find them. We ate our lunch by the spring and then climbed through tick infested brush. Yes, I did say tick infested. Bleh. And I couldn’t find a single glorious mushroom. We were trudging along and I was grumbling and grousing when my little guy said, “Hey! I found one!” And he did. He also found most of the others. We found 20 tiny mushrooms and you would have thought that would make me happy. Alas, my fowl mood lingered. I need a 6 year old to help me find morels. What does that say about my hunting skills?

So here we are at Thursday and I’m worrying the season is almost over. And it’s pathetic really. Why do I place so much of my self worth in how many morels I find? Why does it matter if I find 20 or 2? I have more fun playing in the woods and catching snakes, frogs and turtles in the spring than I do all year! So there it is… it’s time to stop moping and start celebrating. I am counting my many blessings and thanking God for beautiful Spring days and the prospect of a lovely summer. No more cold air and lots of sunshine is coming my way. And that’s all I have to say about that!

Except where’s my morels mushrooms?!