January 22, 2012
Monday is the first day of the rest of my life, dammit.
Watch me, I'm stepping out on a long gang plank, and I'm not sure if I can dive in.
Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life, dammit.
Yeah, right. Who wants to believe that hackneyed old cliché?
For maybe about the gazillions time, I'm going to eat better, improve my health, and walk to the mailbox without huffing and puffing up and down our steep driveway. I'm starting a new diet plan that involves my going to the diet place three times a week and eating what is basically a diabetic diet.
My husband is a Type 2 diabetic and is also overweight, and is going along for the ride.
I've been overweight since my second year in college when I became acquainted with Mr. Miller (and his close friend, Mr. Miller-Lite). Wish I could tell you that I have some kind of deep psychological problem that makes me eat. It wasn't so much the beer, but all the carbs that went with the beer.
Frankly I think I'm a pig and I like food. A lot. I like food way better than alcohol. Gun to my head, there would be absolutely no choice. I would select the Béarnaise sauce over bourbon any day.
And I really like sugar. I would say by an addict's definition, I'm a certified sugar addict.
In my dotage this past year the weight has become a problem. I hurt my knee over Labor Day weekend, and I learned that I have severe arthritis probably due to a fall three years ago. For weeks I could hardly walk and it was very painful. The coup de grace was having to have my husband push me through the Louvre on our Once-in-a-Lifetime Special Trip in a wheelchair. Let's just say it probably inhibited our enjoyment of that special morning a tad, and I was embarrassed because it was about bad choices I've made.
I have been doing water aerobics in a heated pool two or three times a week for about two months. That is helping, but it isn't enough.
I have to do something else. And I'm scared. It's hard.
One day at a time is my mantra.
I have no clue if I can make it even one day without eating the crap I like. I choose this particular local plan because you can eat lots of fruit and protein. I've failed on Weight Watchers, both the class and the online version, because I eventually game the point system.
This Snickers bar won't hurt me today.
Oh, but it will.
And then I'm hungry because I've eaten empty calories, and it doesn't work for me.
So I've decided to try this way for six weeks. That's the first commitment. I can do this. It's only six weeks.
Today we went to the grocery and bought everything we need for the first week. I made a special muffin recipe that they want you to eat. I am getting ready to make "snack packs" of fruits and vegetables for us this week, so we can just pull them out of the fridge. I'm hard-boiling some eggs for protein snacks, and I ('m going to make juice from some beautiful oranges.
But for right now, I'm going to use up the last of the cream cheese and white bread and make some cucumber sandwiches for dinner. Every condemned man (or woman) gets a last meal.