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This Day in My History

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I bake all the time, but I don't like to eat the cookies when they're done. I just like the dough.
~ Sharon Stone

Part of the secret of a success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside.
--Mark Twain

Yesterday's Entries

2000: Fraud!!
  No Gen-D'er I
2002:  Tour d'Alameda
2003:  Oscar Goes to War


Breakfast:  Cheerios with banana
Lunch:   Yogurt, Rye Crisp
Dinner:  Chicken, spaghetti, spinach


"Deception Point"
by Dan Brown ("DaVinci Code")


The Apprentice
West Wing
Law and Order


This was read on KGO radio during Ronn Owens' R&B Joke Hour.  I thought it was so funny, I'm reprinting it here:

There was a midget down in Texas whose testicles hurt and ached almost all the time. The midget went to the doctor and told him about his problem.The doctor told him to drop his pants and he would have a look. The midget dropped his pants. The doctor stood him up onto the examining table and started examining him. He put one finger under his left testicle and told the midget to turn his head and cough, the usual method to check for a hernia. "Aha!" mumbled the doc and, as he put his finger under the right testicle, he asked the midget to cough again. "Aha!" said the doctor again and reached for his surgical scissors.  Snip-snip-snip-snip on the right side, then snip-snip-snip-snip on the left side. The midget was so scared he was afraid to look, but noted with amazement that the snipping did not hurt. The doctor then told him to walk around the examining room to see if his testicles still hurt. The midget was absolutely delighted as he walked around and discovered his testicles were no longer aching. The doctor said, "How does that feel now?" The midget said, "Perfect, Doc, and I didn't even feel it! What did you do?" The doctor replied ... "I cut two inches off the top of your cowboy boots."


25 March 2005

I spent some time this morning reading the journals of other people who are struggling with weight issues. You don’t have to look far on the Internet. You could spend the whole day just reading the successes, failures, hopes, milestones and resolutions of people dealing with food issues.

There are great success stories like Bozoette, who has gone from 236 to 156, with the photos to prove it. Like mine, her journal isn’t solely about weight loss, but her accomplishments are pretty inspiring. She can now can talk about other things, like the recent publication of her new book, "Girl Clown" (I just ordered a copy--can’t wait to read it!)

There is Diet Girl, who started at 350 lbs and who has lost nearly 150 lbs and who proves that even the seeming insurmountable is possible.

There is the "Lose the Buddha" site, where the writer started at 174 and is now 146. She’s in the middle of compiling a book of thoughts by journal writers who are struggling with weight issues.

I recently ordered Fred's book, "From Chunk to Hunk:  Diary of a Fat Man."  Fred started at 371 and made it to 200, with a tremendous following of people on line following him.  

Over on OpenDiary there is a group called "Some Kind of a Circle" with entries by many people who are struggling with weight issues. Since my diary is not on OpenDiary, I can’t contribute, but I do read the entries when I can.

I was taken by something that someone named Raeven wrote the other day. She wrote:

I've been finding that I am not relying on food for emotional comfort though.. so that is good! I've been eating moderate portions of pretty healthy food.. I've been eating until I'm comfortable, not really full and I'm not allowing myself to get overly hungry.

It’s strange that this struck me because the immediate thoughts it evoked have nothing to do with emotional eating. When I read that, my first thoughts were of how I eat.

My eating pattern was set early in life, at the dinner table, where my father invariably chose to get angry. Karen and I had different reactions to his nightly tirades about...anything (if the phone rang, that was a sure-fire reason to get angry).

I guess his anger made it difficult for Karen to eat. She would sit there and play with her food and not finish (if ever) until after everyone had gone from the table. Presumably with the tension gone she could then enjoy her meal.

My response was to eat everything as quickly as I could and get away from the table as fast as possible. My lifelong habit of eating fast was set.

Science and logic tell me that if I can learn to eat at a normal pace, it will be healthier for me. I know that it takes 20 minutes for your brain to register that your stomach is full, so if you eat slowly, your brain has time to catch up with your stomach. But even when I make a concerted effort to sit and eat slowly it only lasts for a couple of bites. By the time my brain knows that I’m full, I’ve eaten more than I needed.

Add to that the compulsion to eat ...compulsively. Out of boredom, depression, anxiety, frustration...rarely hunger...and it’s obvious why I gain weight. I get an emotional cue, I go to the kitchen, I start eating, and since I eat at the same speed I type, I’ve consumed half the kitchen before my brain finally catches up and says "Whoa there, girly-girl---you’re FULL, remember?"

Each day I set out to eat slowly and deliberately. I usually remember that as I’m clearing my plate, or putting back what little leftover food I haven’t eaten.

I have this fantasy that if I could learn to eat slowly, I could continue to eat exactly what I want and I’d still lose weight--because I wouldn’t "top off," as it were.

I am remembering the first moment that I felt a bursting pride at Jeri. I’ve probably told this story more than once here, but it does me good to keep remembering it as a shining example of how I should behave.

She was about 4, I guess, and I fixed pancakes for breakfast. She always ate slowly and, as kids do, she was working her way slowly and doggedly through the pancakes.

She’d almost finished them. There were only two bites left when she looked up and said "Darn it. I’m full--and that’s my favorite part, too!" I didn’t make her finish and to this day I still wish I could do the same thing. At 4, Jeri had enough sense to stop eating when she was full, even if it meant leaving the part of the food that she’d been looking forward to eating.

Compulsive very differently. I read once that compulsive eaters are always looking for the new taste, the next texture. Maybe we’re like drug addicts--trying to recreate the first "high" and never succeeding. In that constant quest for the first taste or texture, we eat our way through the refrigerator, not hungry, not particularly liking what we eat, but continue to eat while we search for that one elusive "thing" that will satisfy the mouth hunger, even when our brain and stomachs tell us that we’re not hungry.


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Our apple tree is in bloom right now


For more photos, please visit My Fotolog and My FoodLog

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Weight Lost to date:  43.8 lbs

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