I am extremely guilty of counting. Whether it’s counting calories, points, carbohydrates, grams of sugar, I feel like I’m always counting. And it’s exhausting!
I remember the first time I dieted. I was 17, and was at my boyfriend’s house when his mother mentioned that she was going on a diet to reduce her carbohydrates, and that I should join her because i could stand to lose a few pounds. At the time I was your typical self conscious teenager, but I didn’t have many hang-ups about food. I felt comfortable eating just about anything, and pretty much just ate when I was hungry. For the first time in my life, I thought I needed to lose weight. I had no idea what sort of long-term impact this would have on my life.
The first time I dieted on my own, it was the Atkins diet when I was 17. To say the least, it was horrible. The concept at the time was to remove carbohydrates from your diet, and step-up the animal protein. It could be anything (music to the bacon-lover’s ear). It left me feeling tired, sluggish, and I was always broke.
The next trick I tried was with my sister when I was 18. She and I started taking Hydroxicut pills, containing the potent hydroxin. I didn’t actually lose any weight, I just felt like I was having a heart attack all the time.
By the end of these first three diet attempts, I actually weighed more. I went from about 140 to 180 during that year and a half. I became obsessed with food, I struggled with cravings I had never had before, and am just now learning to understand.
At the age of 19, I was up to 210. I walked into a Jenny Craig convinced that i was severely obese, and that it was critical I lose weight immediately. This worked for about 3 weeks before I gave that up (along with my $350.00).
Since then I have spent my life either binge eating, or calorie counting to counter-act the binge eating. I have read countless books, watched countless documentaries, purchased countless pieces of exercise equipment, and countless exercise videos. I have driven those in a relationship with at the time absolutely mad at the amount of money and tears I would waste.
I’m tired. Actually, I’m exhausted. I came to this realization this morning when my wife was talking about the book she was reading about food. She expressed that she thought I would like it, and I sort of… snapped. Not at her, mind you. I just started to ramble on about how tired I was to be so wrapped up in food, and it’s meaning, and it’s control in my life.
I don’t want to count calories. I don’t want to eat 6 times a day (it doesn’t feel good to me). I don’t want to restrict myself, it only leads to me crashing and “giving in” to my craving.
I could think of a million other things I could be doing with my time. I could actually be preparing breakfast, being creative with the vegetables in my eggs, rather than spending that time counting how many calories those vegetables will be. I could be doing an extra set of dumb bells at the gym instead of counting the number of calories I would be burning doing that extra set.
Do you see the sheer insanity?
I forsake you, calorie counting. And dieting can go die in a fire.
So, what do I do? I count something else.