It was this time last year, about five months before I met Corey, that I decided to get off my butt before it became suburban motherized, trapped in pocketless denim and capped with muffin. The non-tasty kind.
My Mom took a picture of my brother and I at Christmas... about 5 days afterward, actually.
I think I hastily buttoned my jeans back up right before the picture was snapped: I'd been busy eating my Mom's insane shortbread cookies and had to make way for them inside my zipper. I may also have violently inhaled several little cheesecake biscuits and some maple fudge. And those gingersnaps with the almond icing. In addition, I'd been participating in a fair amount of red wine. Last Christmas, like every Christmas, I thought: Oh, it's the holidays. Indulgence is mandatory. I'll get it together in the New Year.
But hips don't lie and either do pictures and in the picture I'm strategically aligning my side with the wall, turning sideways to facilitate the illusion of thinness, but it's not working. My hips are disproportiantely large and my face is flabby; my sweater is stretched out by my arms. I'm 6 feet so I hide it well, but there's no question that there is very little muscle mass in that photo: I am post Christmas fatskinny.
***
I rarely keep sweets in the house because if they're here, I'll eat them. I sometimes have bubblegum flavoured pudding in the fridge, and Spiderman gummies and other disgusting items Nolan picks out as treats at the grocery store, but I don't buy cookies or cakes or anything tempting. I have no self control to cookies once I've taken a nibble of one, so I just don't bother.
But during the holidays, it's different My Mom and I went to a bake sale on Saturday and I emerged with cute bag of shortbread cookies, some salted caramels, a few macaroons and some cream-cheese icing topped velvet cakes.
"For Christmas presents," I told myself as I bought them. And then immediately ate a cupcake.
***
I just finished moving the rest of the Christmas baked goods to the living room. I stuffed chocolate in stockings, far out of my sight, and in a location where I'd have to tiptoe past Corey's desk to sneak one. And it's not worth the nefariousness. I've been going to the gym pretty consistently for about a month now and I am resolute that I will see changes. I am lifting weights that make me want to puke, I am nearing the point of the Ugly Grunt just to exhaust the crap out of my muscles in an effort to get rid of the final bit of fatskinny on my arms.
Devouring those salted caramels on the fireplace would cause ecstasy for about a minute -- but they'd undo all of the brutally crappy work I've been doing at the gym. They're not worth it.
Things I do instead:
1) Keep sweet fruit on the counter. This time of year, mandarin oranges are awesome -- and one big plump juicy one is worth about 35 calories -- a far cry from a 200 calorie cookie.
2) Put on my workout gear. Even if I'm not planning on working out. Even if I've already worked out today. Changing into my sports bra and yoga pants makes me remember how far I've come and how much better I feel about myself.
3) Do something better. When the craving's get really bad, I think about going to pick up a movie. Or having an impromptu nap, or shower. Or reading a chapter of the Time Traveler's Wife, which has somehow eluded me until now, and my god that's a vastly creative book. Read it instead of eating brownies.
4) Make a substitute. The first time I tried blended cottage cheese, splenda, and pumpkin -- I kind of barfed a bit in my mouth. But now, since I barely ever eat sweets -- this shit actually tastes like cheesecake. You can also blend frozen fruit with cottage cheese and a packet or two of sweetener, and I swear to god, it kind of tastes like only-slightly-demented ice cream.
What do you do to avoid junk food temptation? Lay it on me, I cannot live on mandarins and fake cheesecake alone this holiday season.
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