FitnessFixation.com

Hello darlings. Let me tell you a little story, and in it we will see how even a lifetime of rebelliously loving food and being fundamentally irritated with the disordered way we think we are supposed to eat sometimes doesnt’t even protect me from moments of being something other than myself. If you followed that sentence, you get a free t-shirt, just as soon as I learn to screen-print “Fucking fuck fuckery” shirts in my bathtub.

A long ass time ago, I went to see this great nutritionist who told me many wise things, and among them was this gem: Diets are often crap-fuckery (um, those are my words) because they fail to ask the fundamental question, “How many calories are you currently eating?” Meaning that most diets prescribe 1200, or 1300, or 1500 hundred calories without knowing whether the individual is currently eating 2500, or 1700, or 12 calories a day. This means the diet may be not be much of a reduction, or more likely, it might be a serious drop in caloric intake. That could be bad if your body thinks you are starving and does its damndest to maintain homeostasis, and then hoooolds everything once you up those calories a li’l bit, by say indulging in actual yummy food. So a smarter approach would be to find out what the starting point is, then reduce by 200-250 calories if that’s feasible, and if that fails then take off some more gradually, and so on. Because hell, if you can lose the weight by cutting out 200, why kill most of the joy in your life? Plus less chance that way of falling off the wagon and feeling obsessed and deprived and perhaps in a desperate moment chomping an entire bakery case of stuff, etc. Anyway, I just like this option because it sounds less hard than some others, and I love an easier, softer way.
But obsessed and deprived is considered a virtue sometimes, and we call it discipline and success and shit like that. Because we are tweaked and essentially dumbasses. Lots of name-calling here, but I think you know what I mean, and don’t get all righteous with me, I don’t have time for it, this is my site and truth is whatever I happen to feel like today, and that’s why I have been told I have a sass-mouth. Or maybe it was bitch. Whatevah.
Anyhow, I am also a dumbass, because let’s fast-forward to today. So I gained some weight, and here’s the revelatory reason why: I was taking in more calories than I was burning, by not working out and by eating multiple desserts and 17 plate lunches and shit like that. Happens. Because I have a very efficient body that likes me just the way I am, I don’t often yo-yo soooo much and this freaked me the fuck out. And then I sprained my ankle and couldn’t work out the way I wanted for a few days. Up to that point I had been toying with how to reduce calories because I hate tracking and counting and shit like that, I find it boring and I’m an obssesive person and also very very lazy so the whole thing usually just makes me feel like crap about myself with little measurable change. And I’m saying that like I’ve done it so many times, which I haven’t, often I have been fine with myself (meaning freaked out when PMSed or gone swimsuit shopping but mostly okay) and abandoned the thinking about it. And that’s the way I roll, yo. Could be skinnier, big whoop, don’t have the will to try too hard, and love, love, love me food.
I decided to do this whole delivered organic meal thingie that I’ll go into another time. Anyway, they give you calorie intake options, and I said, “1500″, intending to supplement with more food…Well, sort of. Because a small voice in my head had already started whispering about getting think fast and having a rockin body and my very good discipline and it would all be kind of secret because I don’t wanna lose my rep as a lusty eater and hater of all things pious and depriving.
So what was my caloric starting point? (See nutritionist gem from earlier.) Umm, probably somewhere between 2200 and a million calories, depending on the day, and really, I have no idea. I do know I was eating dessert like I was training for a pro-eating career. And I’m active, so 1500 was probably a serious drop.
How do I know this? Because I ate my portioned breakfast, and lunch, and snack, and then a couple hours later was totally starving. I’m a blood-sugar whore freak, when it dips too low I’m much angrier than usual and spaced out and dizzy and sullen and let’s say it again, angrier than a dad on Montel whose paternity test turns up negative. (For the record, I’m trying to fuck up my chances of being on Montel, because he keeps calling me, and I don’t want to be on his special about women who secretly dress in leotards underneath their regular clothes and have tattoos of Jane Fonda in intimate locations. Who knew Jane had a beard?)
But oh, I fell into the obsessive trap, and wanted to be a good, disciplined, skinny girl. So I tried to ignore the serious hunger pangs and went for a run. And here’s what I realized a mile in:
I am not a good, disciplined girl. Fuck that nonsense, because I didn’t feel athletic, I felt like a noodle. I didn’t run fast (though that was in part the sprained ankle, ahem, la la la, it’s um much better now, shut it) and I felt like poo. Nowadays I am not accustomed to feeling like poo, exercise had the nice unintended side benefit of making me more in touch with how my body feels from moment to moment, and it felt really fucking hungry. So I finished my run, went home, ate, and felt better. And I though about all those celebrities who subsist on very few calories and I don’t know why I thought about them except that I get these idiotic PR emails about their diets and my low blood sugar made me more crabby about it and then extra crabby I was even thinking about stupid celebrities in the first place and I think they must just be really fucking hungry and boy, I want no part of it.
So that’s right, I had a whole ten minutes of dieting, yippee for me, now I’m back to trying to work out more and just eat slightly less but leave room for real serious pigouts because I love food. I’ll never be the skinniest girl you know, but I’m good with that, I came to my senses a long time ago when I did get too skinny and now I’m just going for a more balanced, food-loving me, and while I can and will shed the extra that I don’t like I’m going to do it myyyyyy waaaaay. In other words, you should still hide the bacon when I come over, and I don’t mean that as a euphemism.

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 13th, 2010 at 10:04 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.