Rachel: feeling rather confessional
I like sugar. Going cold turkey off the stuff—meaning no fruit, no sugar, nothing other than the sweetener they put in my whey protein shake to make it taste delicious and an occasional dried apricot—has been hard. I’ve stayed strong, not even feeling the need to cheat, until today.
My relationship with food is one that has defined my whole life. The restaurant business and “THE Meal” has been central to my understanding of who I am. I am driven by these daily rituals, in private and in public. I have made my living around serving people who gather to share a meal. Alone in my home this morning I want to share a moment, so I am not so alone.
Since starting this whole escapade of fitness I’ve tried to get in an extra workout each week, from 3 to 4 a week. Today, I did it. Some of you may have seen, Ratchet kicked some serious elliptical ass last week and did 30 minutes and 400+ calories. Not to be outdone, I joined her this morning, same stats. It feels like I’ve just climbed to the top of Mount Everest (or at least to the top of Buck Hill). See picture; it ain’t pretty but it sure feels good.
Every morning except of course what we call “2 oz hashbrown Sundays” sweetie and I make oat bran. Of all the choices on our limited menu, this is the one we agree we like the best. We add some almond milk (unsweetened) and cinnamon to it. And it is fine. But every morning this bowl of goo calls out to me “brown sugarrrrr … I need brown sugarrrrr!” I have kept this little voice at bay. I have talked about it with Ratchet and Ann and Marissa. I have reasoned with it. I have said not until I dip below the 200 mark. But today, after reaching one of my goals and knowing I can stick with it, I gave in.
And it is good.