A blogspace I might actually use.
11 Aug 2022 - Food
If you follow me on Facebook you may be wondering, “What’s up with all the Strava posts?” Well, it all comes down to three little numbers.
2
9
1
All less than 10.
But when you put them together…
On May 13, I was putting the bathroom back together after having the floor re-tiled. On a whim, I decided to see what the scale would say when I stepped on it. I’m not normally a “scale person”. I judge my health by which hole on my belt I happen to be using this week. Now I knew I was getting up there because there we less and less unused holes, but I took my usual attitude of, “Yeah I need to do something; eventually, I’ll get around to it.”. Then I stepped on the scale.
291.
Two hundred and ninety one.
Ok. I am no doctor, but that was the highest I have every weighed.
I looked at that number and thought about the countless number of times in the past month, year, years I said to my self that I had to do something about my weight. But there was never any motivation to change habits, work at some exercise.
But this time when I looked at that number, I realized that even if I had no regard for my own health (and I do have some regard), the person most likely to be affected by my dropping dead of a stroke or a heart attack was my wife, starting her third year of chemo, for whom I am providing the health benefits. Therefore, I had to do something.
I started with a simple plan - eat less, don’t eat between meals and walk for an hour a day. As I started to work out the details of this plan, I happened to run into this West Wing video while going down a YouTube rabbit hole one night. It’s the scene where Leo McGarry is exit-interviewing Karen Larson, the admin who outed Leo’s rehab stint for pills and alcohol. The relevant dialogue starts at 2:00:
Karen: “So, after six and a half years, you’re still not allowed to have a drink?”
Leo: “The problem is I don’t want a drink; I want 10 drinks.”
And that resonated with me: My name is Matthew Persico and I am a “foodaholic”. You see, when you want a cookie, you take a cookie; I, on the other hand, take a half sleeve. While you get a slice of pizza, I eat three. You have a dish of pasta, I get a bowl, go back for seconds, and grab another spoonful as I am putting it into the fridge.
I get a Twinkie at the gas station every time I fill up a car. I get a Snickers or Payday or Baby Ruth every time I check out at the grocery store.
And when my wife goes to bed at 9pm, it’s showtime! Put on three hours of Star Trek, First commercial: the aforementioned half-sleeve of cookies. Next break, fruit. Next break, peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Next break, crackers. Next break, ice cream. And on, and on, and on.
I do not mean to belittle anyone or minimize the issues and problems of anyone who has an actual medical diagnosis of addition; I am not medically qualified to make such diagnoses. But if I cannot control my intake of food and I do your worst consumption out of sight, that sounds to me like an addiction, no?
So, what do you do? You cannot stop eating, right? Of course, but look at alcoholism: you can still drink, just not alcohol. That is the path I took: I can still eat, just not as much as I was eating and not everything that I was eating.
I settled in on:
Breakfast - One serving of cereal with skim milk, possibly fruit topped, or two eggs (with no more than three strips of bacon on Sundays).
Lunch - Two or three slices of turkey, a slice of swiss and a 70-calorie wrap for lunch. Absolutely no mayo. I’ll use relish, pickles, mustard even cole slaw on occasion as garnishes.
Dinner - salad or steamed frozen vegetable plus whatever protein Donna wants - fish, chicken, steak, the occasional hamburger.
Dessert is one piece of fruit or a serving of cut berries.
And. That’s. It.
Between meals, I take my sodastream and drop in a lime. No eating between. And certainly not between dinner and breakfast. In order to pull of that last bit, I’ve been going to bed at the same time Donna does so that I am not downstairs to get tempted to nosh.
Is it perfect? No. I tend to overeat on fruit and have more than one piece a day. Occasionally I’ll start watching Stat Trek or a Yankee game, but now with a difference:
First break: pickle slice wrapped in a slice of swiss.
Second break: If I can’t sit through the commercials without getting up to go to the fridge, I go upstairs and call it a night.
I haven’t had a slice of pizza, a dish of pasta, a bagel or a piece of regular bread in today-May13 days; you do the math. How is that possible? Surprisingly easy. I just ask myself this: “Is this piece of food going to sustain me or entertain me? If the latter, then is it worth dropping dead on my wife?”
And the answer is always, “Of course not.” Look, I’ve eaten plenty of bagels, pizza, cake, cookies, etc. Was any of those items so memorable that I can recall it right now and say, “Wow. That __ was delicious!”?
I’ve had recent occasion to talk to a bariatric nurse and a nutritionist that just got her masters. Both have said that true weight loss only works with lifestyle change and that in order to make that change, people typically need a breaking point. Maybe they got winded for the upteenth time climbing the stairs, or can’t keep up with their kids, or were the object of ridicule. In my case, it took my wife being sick to turn me around.
And this is a lifestyle change. Those meals I described above are pretty much how I have to eat until I die. Unless I am in the presence of company, either in my house or at someone else’s house or out at an occasion, that’s how I have to eat. Period. Save the sweets and the carbs for parties and celebrations only.
So, if you’re still with me, you probably what to know what the result of all this walking, meal watching, and blogging is. Well, have a look:
| Week | Date | Weight | Week Loss | Total. Loss | Week Avg. Loss | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 0 | 05/13 | 291 | ||||
| 1 | 05/20 | 282 | 9 | 9 | 9.0 | |
| 2 | 05/27 | 277 | 5 | 14 | 7.0 | |
| 3 | 06/03 | 274 | 3 | 17 | 5.6 | |
| 4 | 06/10 | 267 | 7 | 24 | 6.0 | |
| 5 | 06/17 | 263 | 4 | 28 | 5.4 | |
| 6 | 06/24 | - | - | - | - | My flight back from Houston was on 6/25. Decided not to stress since I did enjoy myself a bit at the conference. Texas BBQ. |
| 7 | 07/01 | 259 | 4 | 32 | 4.4 | |
| 8 | 07/08 | 254 | 5 | 37 | 4.5 | |
| 9 | 07/15 | 250 | 4 | 41 | 4.4 | |
| 10 | 07/22 | 243 | 7 | 48 | 4.8 | |
| 11 | 07/29 | 239 | 4 | 52 | 4.7 | |
| 12 | 08/05 | 237 | 2 | 54 | 4.5 | Veselka, Viniero’s and Yankee Stadium |
| 13 | 08/12 | 234 | 3 | 57 | 4.4 | Three days of no walks due to weather, summer cold, 25 North Mac & Meat |
I’m down from waist size 48 to 38 and shirt size from teetering on the edge of 3XL down to an XL. I can walk long distances without strain (as long as the humidity is reasonable). I feel much more comfortable, have so much more energy and don’t loathe mirrors anymore. And, apparently, the Strava posts are serving as inspiration for two people I know to work on their own fitness.
Most importantly, I’m much less likely to drop dead and leave my wife without insurance.
So in the end, why am I writing? Because I am happy. Happy that I am healthier. Happy that I am no longer self conscious of pictures. Happy that I can look good. Why not share happiness with friends?