On Good Food and Turning 45

I'm passionate about good food. However, my penchant for partaking of said good food does not go over well for my almost 45 year old body. During the last 15 years or so, I've been reluctantly learning to adjust to my body's refusal to metabolize food like it did when I was a teenager, or even when I was a 20-somethinger.

There are all these annoying factors like the natural aging process, the baby-having and nursing process, the homeschooling-carpooling-parenting-doctoring-disciplining-grocery-shopping process. Oh, and let’s not forget the stress-eating process. I am a stress. eater. Though I’ve learned over the years that for me, not all types of stress trigger my “eat everything” response. When the stress is financial or the how-in-the-world-can-I-be-all-things-to-all-people-at-all-times busyness kind of stress, I eat. But when the stress is the kind of stress that shatters my life and existence as I know it, my appetite quickly becomes non-existent. Over the last eight years I've had two such life-altering events and I lost a ton of weight. During these times I’d find small comfort in the thought, well, my whole life may going to hell in a hand basket, but I look good. (I’ll take that glass-half-full award now.) Then slowly, inevitably, as life mercifully began to normalize for me again, so did my appetite and I soon found myself back in the same battle, bargaining with my body’s metabolism: please, oh pleeeaaaassseee let me eat what I want and don’t let it land on my tummy.

In 2011, after I’d lost the most recent bargaining-battle (which had resulted in a 20 pound gain), I decided I had to do something. I realize 20 lbs isn’t a lot. In fact, at my age, with my bunch of kiddos, it could be considered an endearing sort of mommy cushion. But weight-gain is relative, and 20 pounds was too much for me. I found myself changing clothes in the closet and praying my husband wouldn't walk in while I was showering. Every day was a battle to hold on to my self-esteem as I chose what to wear. And it seemed, no matter what I chose, the muffin-top would not relent. And before I knew it, 20 lbs became 30.

My daily cycle looked like this: Each night I would go to bed with the resolve that tomorrow was going to be different,  tomorrow I would make better eating choices. Then tomorrow came and by noon I'd failed, again. Every. Day.

Finally, I got serious. In February 2011, my husband and I went on a diet. The first 30-40 days had the most restrictions. Then we began phasing in other foods until we were on the “life-maintenance phase” of the diet, which began for us in May. This whole “life-maintenance” phase of any and every diet I’ve ever been on, is always where I enter the danger, and ultimately, total-defeat zone. I had the ability to make the leap and deprive myself long enough to get the weight off. The problem was that, almost as soon as I’d get the weight off, my you're not the boss of me!  DNA would kick in and I’d be in rebellion against myself. Somehow, keeping it off, seemed to translate to life-long deprivation. And I could. not. go. there.

Well, either I finally got sick of that cycle or this diet has taught me how to live in this world full of delectable delicacies and still be able enjoy them without gaining the weight back. I’m not sure which, but I don’t really care because it’s working! I am keeping the weight off.

It’s over 1 ½ years later and a lot has changed since my eat-with-reckless-abandon days: I try to eat the bulk of my carbs early in the day. I don't eat the quantities I used to, which means I'm also not pushing myself away from the table feeling like Jabba the Hut and swearing to never (ever) eat again. Where I used to hide goodies, I share them. (Okay, sometimes I still hide them, but I share more than I hide.) If I want that Cranberry Bliss bar at Starbucks, I buy it, take a bite or two and hand the rest off to my kids who are more than happy to oblige. And I've found one or two bites really is enough. Lastly, I commit the cardinal sin of weighing myself daily. Yes, I know. Girls especially are taught not to do this, and for good reason, but it has been key for me in keeping the unwanted pounds off.

  Nanaimo Bars One of my favorite desserts, which I still enjoy.

There are other life-style changes, too, but, in case you’re wondering, exercise is not one of them. Mostly because exercise and I have never managed to make nice with each other. Perhaps someday we will, but I promise you, that day is not today.

In a little over a month I will turn 45. I am soberly aware this is a gift denied many, and so, I will celebrate 45, eat cake and be merry. I will also appreciate the fact that I no longer feel the need to dress in the closet or prayerfully rush my showers. I get the sweet satisfaction of knowing I’ve accomplished something that a mere two years ago I thought might never be. I am living life fully, enjoying all that is before me – including being able to indulge my sweet tooth while still maintaining a healthy, happy weight. Forty-five, bring it!