Dieting Haze

If there’s ever a time you don’t want to be around me, it’s when I’m dieting (for those of you closest to me, that’s right now). I started (for about the 10th time in the past six months) a new diet on Monday, and already, I’m miserable. Plus, I’ve decided to hit the ground running, literally. Regularly exercising is a huge part of weight loss, and I know this mentally. But physically, it’s soooo hard to get off my ass! But to lose the weight I want to lose, that’s gotta go hand in hand. To add insult to injury, I’ve decided to keep it to none (OK, that hasn’t happened yet, so let’s just say one) glass of wine each evening. (If you didn’t already know, your liver has to metabolize any alcohol before it can start working on fat, so I figure not drinking wine at all, or only on weekends, is my best route.) However, my daily regime practically requires a glass of wine to make it through the evening. So in a nutshell, diet + enough daily exercise to produce weight loss + no wine = BITCH OF THE YEAR AWARD (just ask my patient parents)!

It’s not that I don’t know how to eat right. I absolutely do! But I love cheese, and I love wine. And it’s not that I don’t know how to burn calories. I’ve always been very athletic and into exercise (pre-K), so when I do exercise, my body seems to remember and embrace it. And it’s not that I need a glass of wine every night. I surely don’t, though after a long day at work and being a single mom of the “little tornado” (as my sister-in-law recently called K), sometimes it’s the only thing that will take the edge off. Apparently I know the ABCs of a healthy life, so why is it so hard to live it?

For me, it’s pretty simple: denial. I haven’t put on 20 pounds since Makensie was born. Eating four pieces of pizza for lunch with a REAL Coke is OK if I skip breakfast and dinner. Walking up and down the steps at work is a pretty good workout if you ask me. I’ll get to the gym at least three times this week. My daughter will continue to eat a healthy, organic diet even though I’m eating whatever I want. In my world, denial is the elephant in the living room.

The saddest part of denial for me is that while I’m “denying” reality, I’m hyperaware of it! I know I’ve gained weight since my daughter was born (um, pretty obvious!). I know skipping meals and drinking alcohol kills metabolism (so does turning 30). I know walking the flight of stairs at work a couple of times a day does absolutely nothing to help me lose weight. I know that if I don’t force myself go to the gym, I’m never gonna get back into a solid routine. And I know if I’m not a better role model for my daughter, she’s likely to spend some if not much of her life fighting the demon that is weight control.

So I’ve made the decision to earn the Bitch of the Year Award honestly and get back onto the healthy living bandwagon. I know it’s gonna be tough (it already is three days in), and I know I may fall off the wagon now and again (I do so love a Coke Icee), but I know that I have to get myself back to the place of pure health and happiness that I haven’t seen in a couple of years, and I’ve got to do it with a blonde, blue-eyed sponge watching my every move.