Gah. I'm on a diet again. Again. Boo.
My sister is getting married in March and I am the maid of honor. Oh, I'm honored! The best man, incidentally, is well over six feet tall. And he's a triathlete. Woo, boy, am I going to look dumpy next to him! I can't wait.
Actually, I can wait. I keep wishing the wedding were a little later in the year so I could spend more time (not) dieting and (not) working out. I can accept that I am a chunk, but I'd really rather not look dumpy in pictures that will live on for years. I already saw the pictures from the bridal shower (oh, the joys of facebook) and I can say with some certainty that I looked like an albino moose in a wig. But, enough about that. I hate talking about my body as though it has betrayed me, when really I have betrayed it. Instead of being mindful of the things I eat and the amount of activity I engage in, I've been eating whatever strikes my fancy. And I've made very little effort to do otherwise.
While I was in law school, I was on the South Beach diet pretty consistently for several months. I lost some weight, got some muscle tone (I was also working out), and just generally felt better about the way my clothes fit and the way I looked. I fully intended to start up with this again now, but I just keep eating the worst possible stuff. Ugh.
So, OK, as my body digests my everything bagel and thinks, "Woman! Eat some damn vegetables!" I will resolve once more to cut out wheat and sugar and focus on some healthier options.
Oh, the real tip? Stop eating everything bagels slathered in cream cheese. And stop ordering pizza when, one way or another, you're going to end up eating the whole thing over the next few days. It's still a whole pizza you're eating.
I'm expecting my shipment of beans from Rancho Gordo (www.ranchogordo.com) today. I'll be back on Monday to let you know how the first bean-cooking trial went.