Grrr … 268.
That’s up a pound. Nineteen pounds in 15 weeks. I do not want to fight for the same ground twice anymore.
Not that it’s any excuse, but as regular readers will recall, we do have an (as of this writing) eight-day-old baby in the house. And I’ve been dealing with insurance adjusters and body-shop owners all week as a result of the pickup truck that backed into our minivan a few days ago. Which made chips (potato and tortilla) and second helpings (several times) reeaaaallly attractive.
My will power needs to be tougher than that. I knew when I picked up the first chip it was a bad idea, and hey, look, I have evidence now!
I also know I “self-medicate” anxiety with, you guessed it, food. Which is, I suppose, less destructive (at least in the short-term) than self-medicating with booze or less-legal drugs or philandering or violent behavior or a lot of other bad habits I’m blessed not to have. But being “less-destructive” is not ok … it’s still “destructive.”
Maybe when I feel the siren-song of the deep-fryer calling in my more stressful moments I need to drop and give myself 20. Redirect the emotion, so to speak.
There’s an enlightening article in the current Wired about “feedback loops.” The example they use is of mobile traffic radar installations with a “your speed is ___” display instead of just a speed-limit sign or increased police presence. They generally result in significantly lower speeds. The article goes on to talk about other ways feedback loops can be applied for better living.
I think I’ve found one. When I stray from the food plan – and KNOW I’m straying – I know (now, “with certitude”) it will show up at the scale. I’ll let you know how it works.
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So yes, I promised a post today about if/why/how processed food makes me want more processed food. The above is actually an example of that, but I swear I’ll get into it more deeply (with a book rec!) later today or tomorrow at the latest.
Thanks, as always, for reading.
Skipping Dessert 