The voices in my head are singing Inside Job by Don Henley.
I’m reading The Overlook by Michael Connelly.
Okay, so it’s January, and here’s where I typically resolve to try a new diet, and to exercise everyday. As previously mentioned, I’ve tried them all, most recently South Beach, and I’m here to testify: none of them work. Or they all do if you stick to them, and there’s the rub. When it comes to food, I have no self-discipline.
Since Thanksgiving, I’ve had one long food orgy, and until Monday, not one of the things I’ve eaten has been healthy. Hard to figure out why I’ve had a cold since mid-November.
So, here’s my new plan: I hereby resolve NEVER to diet again. I will not try the new fad diet, whatever it is, nor retry any of the old ones. I’m setting out on a plan to eat myself healthy (really healthier, as I’m generally in great health except for the extra pounds I’m tired of toting around and the cold, but it sounds more dramatic that way).
I’m going to eat my veggies. I’m going to do the thing they’ve been pounding into my brain since birth and eat mostly fruits and vegetables, with moderate amounts of lean protein, dairy, and whole grains. I’m not counting anything or measuring anything, and I’ll eat what I want when I want it. I hereby grant myself permission to have a cheeseburger whenever I want one.
This, I think, is the key. I suspect the biggest reason I can’t stick to a diet is I despise ceding control to someone else. I hate studying books and websites to figure out what I can and can’t have, then trying to cook something from the allowed ingredients that tastes good. No more.
Each week, I’ll put veggies and fruits on my grocery list, and I’ll eat the ones I like best. I’ll prepare them the way I think sounds good.
I started Monday. So far so good. I’ve a had a salad every day for either lunch or dinner. I bet if I did count the calories, I’d be where most diets say I should be. But I refuse to count. The one thing I will measure is myself. I’ll step on the scales once a week and not obsess.
This is my New Year’s Revolution.
P.S. Oh, the exercise thing… I’ll be back on the dance floor as soon as all these veggies kick the cold out of my chest. The Queen of Pain is losing patience.
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