When your "Fat Pants" Become Your "Every Day Pants"

For years I have struggled with my weight. Since 5th grade when the hormones started raging and now until my late 20's I have bounced my weight around back and forth like a cheap yo-yo you might find at a tag sale or a vending machine. You know the kind. The kind of yo-yo made with cheap string that frays and tangles, where one bump against the ground or some other solid object causes the whole thing to fall apart until you get so frustrated you say "screw it!" and find something else to distract yourself. 

That kind of struggle. 

I've never been a particularly active person. Sedentary describes me pretty well - but that's just such an ugly word, isn't it? I don't like to run, the elliptical makes me crazy, and I'm overwhelmed by weight machines and aerobics classes. I like using my 15 pound kettlebell, but convincing myself that I should do some swings tonight, or any number of other acrobatics with the painted cannonball is always a test of strength in and of itself. 

I like to eat. I grew up half Italian and half Hispanic. Pasta, rice, cheese, tortillas, cream sauces, MSG. The combinations of foods that I ate routinely did nothing to help me maintain a "normal" weight, and I always ate in excess. Why? Because I learned from a young age that food is comforting and social and an "all-day" event. This was often the case on Sundays when my Italian grandparents would prepare a feast where we would lazily graze from 2pm until about 6 or 7pm when coffee and confections were served. There was no such thing as portion control or mindfulness. You ate because it made you happy, and turning down food from your grandparents just wasn't something you did. 

And so I ate. 

And ate.

And ate some more. 

And then I went to college. 

I bet you can imagine what happened there. Freshman 15? Try Freshman 25.

I tried, time and again, to convince myself that I was going to go on a diet, and that I was somehow going to succeed. No plan, no real knowledge about what I was doing. I set myself up for failure a number of times and always gained whatever handful of pounds I had lost. 

When I got to graduate school I tried the 4 Hour Body Diet and lost about 40 pounds (38 if we're going to be fussy). I was back to my high school weight and I felt great! But I got sick of the restrictive eating plan and decided to try and go it alone. Well I decided to try and do my own thing around the holidays. Thanksgiving, a couple of birthdays, Christmas, New Year's and then my birthday. Between November and February I packed on maybe 25 to 30 of the 40 pounds that took me almost 2 years to lose. 

Well now here I am. 

I'm not really sure what to make of this blog. I'm not sure where it's going or what I'm doing. All I do know is that I need a place where I can write. A place where I can vent, share my struggles, celebrate my successes, and talk about food. Glorious food. 

I've made a concerted effort to be mindful about what I eat. Don't drink your calories (unless it's Happy Hour, then the calories don't count), eat this - not that, portion control, more veggies and fruit, fewer carbs (but don't cut them out because they're good for you!), lean(er) meats, legumes, multivitamins (when I remember to take them), lots of water (I prefer a teabag in my water - lemon is also delicious), less fat, etc. 

This is where I will post recipes, food ideas, struggles, exercise attempts and failures, weight loss milestones, whatever.

This is my new safe place.

I hope I can inspire some of you to try something new for yourself, and maybe you can inspire me or help contribute to this page. I've lost about 7 pounds in the last month with my newest approach, so I must be doing something right - right?

Here goes nothing.