I awoke this morning to the strangest sensation. What is that? I wondered, sleepily. Uh, I think that’s… hunger, I replied. Hunger! I was actually hungry, and it was first thing in the morning! I don’t remember the last time that happened. It’s probably because I didn’t snack all night in front of the TV, and because I fell into bed, exhausted, at about ten o’clock last night. When I had breakfast today, I was actually breaking a fast. Hmm. So that’s what that means!
After breakfast, I took Poppet on the bus to school, and instead of heading straight for the nearest cafe and lingering over a hot chocolate or a Chai tea, alongside a muffin or a croissant, I instead walked the half hour home. I had already eaten! When I arrived, I didn’t sit down, I didn’t turn on the television or grab my book. Instead, I went back down to the Art Room and spent a very productive hour taking down old pictures and posters, archiving them, and then putting up some newer efforts from the artists in residence.
Then I went for a swim. I set my alarm for twenty minutes, and vowed to make myself move that whole time. The only resting I allowed myself was some floating on my back… When teaching the girls the principles of floating, I realised that it actually kind of requires some effort. “Bottom up, stomach in” is what I told them, and, you know, I could feel the strain in both bottom and stomach. Who knew?
Then I headed back to school to pick up Poppet, whose half-day was over. Took the car. I had earned it. We brought back with us one of my best friends (let’s call her Prada) and the 3 year-old who lives at her house, and who goes to school with Poppet (let’s call him Buddy).
Prada is fun, funny and fabulous, the kind of girl who can make any kind of prosaic activity an occasion. She is stylish and self-absorbed and a total bitch, and I love her completely. She will say things that literally make me gasp in horror, like how she hates ugly people, but will also make me laugh and laugh with her egocentric silliness. She’s not, perhaps, the sharpest eyebrow pencil in the make-up case, but she is endlessly entertaining. And she puts up with me and my many, many foibles! For that, I can forgive a lot in a person.
Anyway, Prada brought over with her not only the ever-delightful Buddy, but also a large packet of Salt and Vinegar Chips. These, she brought out with an almost impish delight, as though they were the rarest of treats. She hid them from the children, but as soon as they ran off to perform some high-octane destruction of the Play Room, she opened them up. And I, of course, not wanting to be rude, reached my hand right on in.
This might be an opportune moment to mention the small matter of food. Or, perhaps, not so small matter. This is a diet, after all. And here is the Broken Heart Diet Food Philosophy:
- I will eat healthily, as much as is practicable, according to the Food Pyramid
- I will eat small amounts often, and not allow myself to get so hungry I binge on snacks
- I will stop eating when I am full, and not when all the food is gone
- I will use smaller plates and bowls
- I will replace all sugary cold drinks with water, and sugary hot drinks with herbal tea
- I will not stand in front of the refrigerator, grazing on whatever I find therein
- Ditto the pantry
- I will not eat within two hours of my proposed bedtime
- I will not buy for myself any food that could be classified as “junk” (however, I am allowed to accept gifts of said junk, if they are presented to me, within reason).
- When I am on holidays or a big night out, all bets are off.
Now, this Chip Incident falls under the sixth by-law of the BHDFP, and so it was okay that I dove right in. What is notokay is that I kept right on doing it. I needed to stop myself. I needed to slow myself down. Because often what happens is yummy food is put in front of me, and I eat it ’cause it’s there, not because I really want it, or even like it all that much. In this case, I both wanted and liked those chips, but a thought occurred to me: Prada loves chips like I do, eats them all the time, in fact, and she does not have any kind of weight trouble. But, also, I have never seen her actually finish a bag. She’ll buy them, or I will, and we’ll share them like gleeful kids who have received a special treat in their lunchboxes, but it is always me who keeps going right to the bottom of the bag. Or when we go to the movies, we’ll get popcorn, but Prada will stop eating it a quarter of the way through the film, and I’ll keep going… again, to the bottom. Hmmm. I wonder what would happen, how many calories I would save, if I just… stopped. Stopped when Prada does.
So I did! I stopped, and there was still a third of the package left. Which means, and assuming an equal rate of consumption (which I am – Prada is a machine when she’s going for it), I ate approximately 70g of chips, where usually I would have eaten double that. So I am calling this a win!
Prada and Buddy left a while later, but not before I had discovered another new thing. There is a swing set in our backyard, and I am always happy to let the children have a go, and I’ll give them a little push, a couple of minutes at best, before giving up on it and suggesting they push themselves. Little legs can do it, but they only last so long before they’re done, and we can head on inside. Today, however, I stayed the course. Pushing a swing – or two swings, in tandem – feels like it must be pretty good for the arms, shoulders and back. At least, I certainly felt like it must be, after twenty minutes of it. Mental note: must take Poppet to school ten minutes early to push her on the big swing there. Bet it’s an even better workout.
Of course, the day was not over. Pumpkin got home from school, and I took both girls to the Art Room. We practiced our writing and our reading and our letters and our numbers, and played School… but, most importantly, I did all of this while moving around constantly the whole while. Getting up and down from the teeny-person chairs at the art table, reaching up and leaning down for more supplies, bending over to pick up dropped pencils and discarded pieces of paper—it all felt very good. Very… active. Especially during an indoor activity that is anything but.
Now, it is ten o’clock at night, and I am so very, very weary. So very, very ready for bed. And so very, very pleased with myself.
It was a good day.
Food Report:
- Breakfast, 7:45 AM:Yakult Light, one piece of wholewheat peanut butter toast, apple
- Snack, 10:00 AM: Banana, glass of soy milk, small handful of dried fruit
- Lunch, 1:00 PM: Minestrone soup
- Snack, 2:30 PM: 70g potato chips (!), plum
- Dinner, 5:30 PM: Green Vegetable Curry with brown rice, handful of grapes
- Supper, 8:00 PM: Glass of skim milk, one Fig Newton
Injury Report: None to speak of; muscle injury of yesterday still slightly tender.
Mood Report:
I feel like I did a lot to help my body today, in a very natural way, and that makes me feel quite good. Even the Chip Incident had a positive outcome. I came to several realisations today, had several epiphanies, and I really believe that this is something I can do, and can continue to do for as long as it takes.
That Damned Man is going to be so sorry.
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