Friday, July 25, 2008

Unfair

Vodka is clear. Why the fuck does it have calories? That's wrong on so many levels.

You know the thing I hate most about this program? It seems intent on stripping you of your dignity. I can handle the personal trainer and the nutrionist - that's why I signed up, to have my health in the hands of professionals. What I can't handle is the requirement that you attend a group therapy session each week, and twice-monthly sessions with a counselor.

I don't binge, I don't purge. I don't starve myself and I know when I am eating too much. My problem is simple: three years ago, I went through a series of injuries that left me unable to work out. I shrugged and used the time for writing instead, but continued to eat as if I was training for a marathon.

So basically, my problem is that I like food. I would love to see the shrink who can talk me out of that.

6 Comments:

Blogger Celeste said...

I don't think your problem is that you like food. I think your problem is that you are not getting enough exercise and possibly need to incorporate some weightlifting to build muscle and increase your metabolism even a little.

Celeste

12:10 PM  
Blogger Celeste said...

I meant to say load-bearing exercise as opposed to cardio. I have never felt like cardio alone can help me lose weight. I feel like it just makes me hungrier and so a caloric restriction is harder.

One of these days I will learn to preview before I post. ;o)

12:13 PM  
Blogger Jude said...

That shrink would make a billion.

Now, for some reason, I have the worst craving for mac and cheese.

your comrade in the joys of nom,
jude

1:25 PM  
Blogger B said...

Jude, tell me you are going to SF! I will be there.

Celeste, I'm working with a personal trainer, a nutrionist, and a physician. I think they've got me on a good mix of cardio and weight training, and actually after a good cardio workout I feel less hungry rather than more hundry. But thanks.

2:11 PM  
Blogger Jo said...

If it's any comfort, I do the eat-1400-calories, work-out-like-a-demon thing myself, with a trainer, and I still tip the scale at 190.

True, it's a 190 that benches 120 and can run an 8-minute mile, but I'm a size 14. Which I hate. Nothing jiggles, I have no cellulite (amazing), my boobs are perky. And I am still squat and stocky and built like a fucking brick wall. So I feel your pain and your desire to kiss a bus.

All this weight hit me due to a combination of divorce (beer binges!), Effexor, and working 12-hour days. Now that things are better (no more beer binges! Trainer! Salad! Tuna! Dammit!), I'm neither losing weight nor getting smaller; I'm just replacing beer gut with biceps.

I guess I'll have to get used to looking like Colossus (the "X-Men" version, not the one in Rome). The upside is that I can beat up anybody who snarks me about it.

4:13 PM  
Blogger Denise said...

All the greatest authors have suffered for their art, right? Think of the fabulosity that is going to SPRING from your pen! Or keyboard.

3:18 PM  

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