10 pieces of kibble

On Saturday night, we had our annual Julie’s birthday dinner party. This year the theme was crepes, and it was awesome. So awesome that I forgot to take any pictures.

During the course of the evening a friend and I started talking about aging and weight gain. It so happens that this particular friend, a former dancer, is in stunning shape (although she doesn’t think so). I’ve talked about women, body issues, and my own struggles many times on this site (here and here, for example).

The entire time my friend and I are talking her husband, a veterinarian, is sitting between is. At one point I offer that he go mingle with the others since I can’t imagine that our conversation is very interesting to him. He surprised me by saying that, on the contrary, he’d like to add something. Of course, I'm expecting him to say something about how lovely we both are; how we don’t need to lose any weight, that we’re perfect (and smokin’ hot) just the way we are.

What he says is this: “If a cat eats just 10 extra pieces of kibble a day, they'll gain a pound in one year. That’s 10 percent of their body weight from just 10 extra pieces of kibble a day.”

Point taken.

Halfway

I'm now at the halfway point of my 21-day plan. I have exercised every day but one so far, and it's been great.

I found the perfect solution to my need-for-cardio but hate-for-gyms: the Matt Dishman Community Center. We've been taking Anna to Dishman for years (it's where she took her great French classes, and where she and David swim), but I never checked out their fitness center. Turns out, it was completely renovated in June with all new equipment, and it only costs $2.80 to drop in (with a punch-card). There are never more than a few people there, and everyone is focused on what they're doing (i.e. there's no “scene”). It also happens to be a 5-minute bike ride door-to-door, so it really couldn't be a better fit.

The non-diet diet has also been going well. I've limited myself to the occasional beer or glass of wine, and have really stuck to fruits, veggies, and protein for the bulk of my calories. And you know what? I'm not missing a thing! I'm really feeling good about what I'm doing and how I'm doing it.

One item that's been helping me is kombucha. Do you know about it? It's a fermented tea that has become very trendy around these parts. I particularly like the Synergy brand which is mixed with a bit of juice. Kombucha is a strange beverage — I can substitute it for most of my “vices" and feel satisfied. I've mostly been drinking it around 5pm, when I'd normally be having a glass of wine. There are claims that kombucha is really beneficial, with tons of probiotics and amino acids, but it's not without controversy, so drink it at your own discretion. Also, be advised that kombucha contains small amounts of alcohol (around .5%) which occurs naturally in the fermenting process.

As for weight-loss (or pant loosening, since that's what I'm really going for), I can't really say I see much difference yet. I think that the 21-day point is really when this thing will take hold and start to show. Honestly, I expect to be incorporating these changes into my lifestyle permanently. Do not despair though — there will always be room for baking in my life (and I will share, of course)!

21 days

I need to go on a diet. Despite the ambivalence I wrote about not long ago, I can't ignore the fact that my clothes are getting too tight. It doesn't help matters that I am a fairly petite person who gains weight primarily in my waistline (what waistline?!).

The thing is, I eat quite well and I do exercise regularly. I blame the 6-week chocolate, croissant, and cheese binge that was our house-swap last winter. Not quite sure how it's just finally settling around my middle now, but these are details I don't need to work out.

What I do need is to kick things up a notch here, since adults supposedly gain a pound a year just by doing everything exactly the same as we've been doing it (ah, the joys of the over-35 metabolism).

So, I have devised a plan. It goes like this:

• Exercise every single day for an hour. This is through a combination of yoga and pilates classes during the week, and then things like family bike rides and home exercise on the weekends. Bonus for extras like going on a long walk on a day when I did a yoga class.
  
  
  
• Eliminate the following from my diet: refined sugar, most flour, most alcohol. Why “most”? Because I'm human and as soon as you take away all the good stuff, I buck. I'm a baking fool, after all. So there will still be an occasional homemade pizza, or a glass of wine on a night when I'm likely to hurt someone without it! But mostly I'm enjoying fresh fruits and veggies, brown rice, eggs, tofu, seafood, and some dairy.
  

Why 21 days? Because that's when we leave for our vacation to U.C. Santa Barbara Family Camp. (I'd be lying if I didn't mention that the thought of being surrounded by 18-year-old U.C. students was motivation enough!) 21 days seems manageable, and it seems long enough to see some results.

Why am I writing about it here, instead of giving you a lovely muffin recipe? Accountability, of course! And because, since misery loves company, I thought I'd see if anyone wanted to join me? If you're local, perhaps we could do some exercising together. If you're virtual, we could share recipes, successes, failures (it helps to plan ahead!), whatever.

Who's in?

P.S. I don't own a scale, so I'm not using weight as a measurement of success here. I just want my pants to fit comfortably around my waist again!

P.P.S. I started this plan on Monday, so I'm wrapping up day 2 now. 

Ambivalence

My trainer, who also happens to be one of my very best girlfriends, is getting frustrated because the longer we work out together, the fatter I get. Not that I’m fat, but I’ve got a belly. In all fairness to her, she is frustrated on my behalf, because she knows I’d like to have a nice, flat stomach. Apparently not as much as I’d like to have a muffin, however.

I’ve battled with this back and forth about food and weight my entire life and, ironically, I don’t think what I look like has shifted much in that time. I’m not one of those people who gains and loses a lot of weight, or who yo-yo diets. I’m a slightly thinner than average 40-year-old woman who has had a child.

I used to care a lot about how skinny I felt (note I didn’t say looked because who the hell knows how they really look, anyway?). But over the years, I’ve gradually cared less. A bottle of olive oil, which used to last years (really, years!) now needs to be replaced every couple months. I think part of the growing ambivalence comes with the wisdom and security that comes with age. What seems like a big deal when you’re 15 turns out to really just be a pimple when you’re 30.

Going to France was definitely the turning point. The quality of the food there was just so high that it seemed like an insult not to appreciate it properly. And now that I’m home, it’s that kind of eating that appeals to me. Not the mindless snacking or eating endless muffins (although I do make great muffins), but the appeal of fresh, home baked bread with good chèvre or this molé, which I plan to make soon.

I still want to look good, but mostly I want to be happy. I’ll keep exercising because I want to be strong and healthy for myself and my family, and because I enjoy my time with my trainer girlfriend. But I think the days of striving for no belly fat are long gone. And, honestly, I’m glad. Because enjoying good food and good wine with friends is one of the things that makes me happiest. About that I have no ambivalence.