It has been almost a year since I started this blog, and I have to admit that I'm not thrilled with my progress. I started this blog with a mission of putting all of life's stresses into a constructive outlet, but also with a goal of loosing weight. I am embarassed to admit that I have not really suceeded in either of those goals. I was off to a good start, but then life kind of got in the way.
I've been reading some really inspiring blogs lately, and I recently had my annual phyiscal. I'm pleased to report that both of those things have reignited my enthusiasm for both loosing some weight, and for blogging my heart out. I still plan to include the fun stuff (i.e. the fashion stuff), but you can expect to see a lot more about food, and about issues/ topics that are eating at me.
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Showing posts with label dieting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dieting. Show all posts
Monday, August 8, 2011
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Recipe for a diet
My childhood can be divided into two periods: before stepdad and after. The same can be said for my childhood history with food. Before sd, my single mother and I lived a very simple midwestern life.We were on foodstamps. Our diet was very meat and potatoes.Inexpensive ingredients grouped to make hearty foods. Many of these meat and potato dishes were prepared by the other women in my family. My aunt makes amazing homemade chicken pot pie, my great grandmother made delicious homemade noodles which she would cook in chicken broth and serve on top of mashed potatoes. My mom was never much of a cook, before or after sd, which is funny because he always claims to have fallen for her lasagna (mediocre). A mediocre lasagna to attract a less than mediocre husband (now ex).
After stepdad came the world of budgets, and meticulously planned menus. I was never hungry, but the quality of the food was less than stellar. What a lot of people fail to realize is being lower middle class means eating a lot of prepackaged, poor nutritional value foods. My mom rarely splurged for fresh vegetables, and when she did she only ever bought potatoes, onions, peppers and on occasion carrots and lettuce. Our meals usually featured ground beef as the primary ingredient: sloppy joes, hamburger helper, spaghetti (that consisted of canned sauce, ground beef and angel hair pasta with Parmesan), chili-mac, Shepard's pie, and tacos. We had the occasional chicken, cube steak or pork chop break, but it was ground beef about 4 days a week. Since moving out, with the exception of the very occasional cheeseburger I can no longer bring myself to consume ground beef.
The first thing I learned how to cook is still a comfort food: chicken/ tuna noodle casserole. The ingredients are simple: cream of something soup, a can of tuna or chicken, frozen peas, egg noodles, shredded cheese. Growing up it was always cream of chicken soup and canned chicken in college it was cream of celery and tuna. I chose the latter version for my last "pre-diet" meal on sunday.
Going away to college I weighed a lithe 135 pounds (I'm 5' 7"). I always felt big in high school because I was bigger than my mom and curvier than most of the girls in my classes, so I was stressed about college weight gain. You see, most girls gain the freshman 15. I gained 15 pounds- per semester. It wasn't until a few years later that I realized that was actually a healthy weight gain for me. I didn't gain weight because of late night pizza, binge drinking or loading my plate with french fries at the dining hall. I gained weight because for the first time in my life I was eating mostly good, nutritious food. I finished my freshman year at 165 pounds. I felt huge.
By my junior year I accepted that I was not blessed with the skinny genes in my family. I stopped caring and started loving food. My college boyfriend furthered this romance. The two years I dated him turned me into a foodie.
I started eating things that my midwestern roots found exciting and romantic. Things I had never experienced before: ceviche, sushi, curries, calamari, hummus, crab meat, brie, taboule, goat cheese, mango, zucchini, asparagus... I also started to eat my feelings. Up late studying- eat something. Fight with boyfriend- eat something. Drunk- eat something. Bored- eat something. Stressed, angry, depressed- eat everything.
I'm done with college and the college boyfriend, but the binging and eating my feelings is still a problem. I hate my job and I don't like the city I currently live in, so I eat. my current beaux and I take long lunches together and cover up how much we hate our jobs with mexican food and deli treats.
I recently saw a number on the scale that I made a promise to myself I wouldn't see unless I was pregnant. I know that my happiness will not be defined by a number, but my health can be so I need to change that number. I don't need to change it so that society won't judge me, so I can land a man, or so I can look sexy in a bikini. I need to change it so I can go up the 4 flights of stairs to my office without feeling winded. I need to change it so that I don't feel tired all the time. I need to change it so that I have control over something in my life.
My plan for this blog is to share what I love about good food, but also to help myself on the road to a new number. I want to type my feelings instead of eating them. You can expect tales about life, love, work, breakfast, lunch and dinner. It will be a food journal, a confessional, and a rant.
Bon Appetite!
After stepdad came the world of budgets, and meticulously planned menus. I was never hungry, but the quality of the food was less than stellar. What a lot of people fail to realize is being lower middle class means eating a lot of prepackaged, poor nutritional value foods. My mom rarely splurged for fresh vegetables, and when she did she only ever bought potatoes, onions, peppers and on occasion carrots and lettuce. Our meals usually featured ground beef as the primary ingredient: sloppy joes, hamburger helper, spaghetti (that consisted of canned sauce, ground beef and angel hair pasta with Parmesan), chili-mac, Shepard's pie, and tacos. We had the occasional chicken, cube steak or pork chop break, but it was ground beef about 4 days a week. Since moving out, with the exception of the very occasional cheeseburger I can no longer bring myself to consume ground beef.
The first thing I learned how to cook is still a comfort food: chicken/ tuna noodle casserole. The ingredients are simple: cream of something soup, a can of tuna or chicken, frozen peas, egg noodles, shredded cheese. Growing up it was always cream of chicken soup and canned chicken in college it was cream of celery and tuna. I chose the latter version for my last "pre-diet" meal on sunday.
Going away to college I weighed a lithe 135 pounds (I'm 5' 7"). I always felt big in high school because I was bigger than my mom and curvier than most of the girls in my classes, so I was stressed about college weight gain. You see, most girls gain the freshman 15. I gained 15 pounds- per semester. It wasn't until a few years later that I realized that was actually a healthy weight gain for me. I didn't gain weight because of late night pizza, binge drinking or loading my plate with french fries at the dining hall. I gained weight because for the first time in my life I was eating mostly good, nutritious food. I finished my freshman year at 165 pounds. I felt huge.
By my junior year I accepted that I was not blessed with the skinny genes in my family. I stopped caring and started loving food. My college boyfriend furthered this romance. The two years I dated him turned me into a foodie.
I started eating things that my midwestern roots found exciting and romantic. Things I had never experienced before: ceviche, sushi, curries, calamari, hummus, crab meat, brie, taboule, goat cheese, mango, zucchini, asparagus... I also started to eat my feelings. Up late studying- eat something. Fight with boyfriend- eat something. Drunk- eat something. Bored- eat something. Stressed, angry, depressed- eat everything.
I'm done with college and the college boyfriend, but the binging and eating my feelings is still a problem. I hate my job and I don't like the city I currently live in, so I eat. my current beaux and I take long lunches together and cover up how much we hate our jobs with mexican food and deli treats.
I recently saw a number on the scale that I made a promise to myself I wouldn't see unless I was pregnant. I know that my happiness will not be defined by a number, but my health can be so I need to change that number. I don't need to change it so that society won't judge me, so I can land a man, or so I can look sexy in a bikini. I need to change it so I can go up the 4 flights of stairs to my office without feeling winded. I need to change it so that I don't feel tired all the time. I need to change it so that I have control over something in my life.
My plan for this blog is to share what I love about good food, but also to help myself on the road to a new number. I want to type my feelings instead of eating them. You can expect tales about life, love, work, breakfast, lunch and dinner. It will be a food journal, a confessional, and a rant.
Bon Appetite!
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