I thought it would be fun to post in here my escapades in the kitchen, mostly to keep my other primary blog food-free. (Why? I'm not really sure... Perhaps secretly I just wanted another venting space a little less public, since really I'm annonymous here. I think.)
At any rate, after a bit of pondering, I've decided on another path. Yes: fat loss. Ironically, the template I've already established will do just fine for now. Because I will, no doubt, discuss food, cooking, baking and my utter lack of will power and motivation.
I've decided as well that I am going to keep as much as possible the self-loathing crap that sneaks up on me on occasion to the barest minimum. Mostly I don't feel too bad about my body; maybe I should, maybe not. My main reason for this is not a belated New Year's resolution, or a work place fad I'm trying to tag along with. It isn't because my husband thinks I'm fat (he has said he doesn't, but blames my poor eating habits and lack of excersize - thereby unhappiness on this point - his fault.)
No, usually I realize I've gotten a bit out of control when I see a (really bad) pic of myself like the one above [I'm the one on the right, haha], or sometimes at a family gathering. I tend to feel pretty good about myself on average; I'm tall (about 5'9"), I have a great smile, and I'm pretty funny (I crack myself up all the time!) Plus I'm a pretty good cook, though still learning.
I used to be able to jog about a mile at a stretch. That may not sound like much, and I was by no means "athletic" ever. But I was more active. I've always had a weird relationship with food. I trace the beginnings of this last phase to when I went away to college. I began to develope not-so-great habits. Instead of actively working off my stess, I started smoking regularly. I lived off of ramen noodles in the evenings, after dinner, and around midnight before they locked the acedemic buildings I would make a run over from the dorm to grab snickers, doritoes and sodas out of the vending machines. I mean, I didn't load up my backpack, but a bag of chips, a candy bar and a pop at 1 a.m. (almost every day) isn't helping anyone.
My goal here is to be as honest as I can. Mostly with myself, since you don't know me anyway. I need to break some bad habits (bad for me; I'm not here to judge anyone), and make some new ones. I'm noticing now how stiff my back can be in the mornings (ok, partly because we have a crappy old bed), how utterly inflexible I am, how difficult it can be to breathe sometimes, and how depressing it is to wheeze my way up some stairs (just to name a few "issues").
That about covers it for tonight.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
not another fat-loss blog, puh-leez!
I thought it would be fun to post in here my escapades in the kitchen, mostly to keep my other primary blog food-free. (Why? I'm not really sure... Perhaps secretly I just wanted another venting space a little less public, since really I'm annonymous here. I think.)
At any rate, after a bit of pondering, I've decided on another path. Yes: fat loss. Ironically, the template I've already established will do just fine for now. Because I will, no doubt, discuss food, cooking, baking and my utter lack of will power and motivation.
I've decided as well that I am going to keep as much as possible the self-loathing crap that sneaks up on me on occasion to the barest minimum. Mostly I don't feel too bad about my body; maybe I should, maybe not. My main reason for this is not a belated New Year's resolution, or a work place fad I'm trying to tag along with. It isn't because my husband thinks I'm fat (he has said he doesn't, but blames my poor eating habits and lack of excersize - thereby unhappiness on this point - his fault.)
No, usually I realize I've gotten a bit out of control when I see a (really bad) pic of myself like the one above [I'm the one on the right, haha], or sometimes at a family gathering. I tend to feel pretty good about myself on average; I'm tall (about 5'9"), I have a great smile, and I'm pretty funny (I crack myself up all the time!) Plus I'm a pretty good cook, though still learning.
I used to be able to jog about a mile at a stretch. That may not sound like much, and I was by no means "athletic" ever. But I was more active. I've always had a weird relationship with food. I trace the beginnings of this last phase to when I went away to college. I began to develope not-so-great habits. Instead of actively working off my stess, I started smoking regularly. I lived off of ramen noodles in the evenings, after dinner, and around midnight before they locked the acedemic buildings I would make a run over from the dorm to grab snickers, doritoes and sodas out of the vending machines. I mean, I didn't load up my backpack, but a bag of chips, a candy bar and a pop at 1 a.m. (almost every day) isn't helping anyone.
My goal here is to be as honest as I can. Mostly with myself, since you don't know me anyway. I need to break some bad habits (bad for me; I'm not here to judge anyone), and make some new ones. I'm noticing now how stiff my back can be in the mornings (ok, partly because we have a crappy old bed), how utterly inflexible I am, how difficult it can be to breathe sometimes, and how depressing it is to wheeze my way up some stairs (just to name a few "issues").
That about covers it for tonight.
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