drop the fork

Exercising My Estimatin' Eye

My scale needs a new battery.

No, not the one I step on . . . the one that I weigh my food with.

Rats. Until I get replacement batteries (Energizer #29584739430585, or something like that) I'm going to have to eyeball my food portions, because I won't be able to weigh them.

But, hey, I'm up to it. I've done it every day for nearly 3-and-a-half years (not counting 4 fabulous days in Paris in 2003 . . .). Portion control, and estimating portion size, is a permanent part of my life, a habit I plan to take with me to the grave. I apparently am handicapped, in that I do not have a natural ability to control my eating unconsciously, so I have to use a crutch tool to help me eat reasonably.

Don't get me wrong, now . . . I am not a fanatic about portion control. At least, not in the sense that I have to get my portions measured EXACTLY. Good enough is good enough, and I figure that as I seem to be doing OK in the maintenance department, I must be doing something right. So, I will lick the peanut butter spoon, pick a bite or two off of hubby's plate (french fries, mmmm . . .), or see just how many chips I can put in the bowl before 1.0 ounce tips over into 1.25.

I actually am proud of my portion eyeballing skills, having gotten a lot of practice in over the years. Hubby and I eat out a lot. A WHOLE lot. I recently saw a plaque that said, "I have a kitchen only because it came with the house." I think it had my picture on it.

Seriously, though, I rarely have time to cook, these days. This is tragic, as I have an entire bookcase of cookbooks -- single subject, ethnic, old (I have all of my Mom's old books), new, and anything in between. Lite, fat laden . . . oh, and did I mention my collection of Bon Appetit and Cooks magazines? Sigh.

My home-made meals of late are usually something on the order of baked-fish/potato/veggie or baked chicken/rice/veggie. I sometimes make pita pizzas. Other times, I whip up a nice peanut butter sandwich. If really pushed to the wall, I may make an omelet or frittata. These are things my cats could make, assuming they could figure out how to turn on the stove and open the fridge.

So, where does this leave me? Like I said, with a lot of meals eaten out. My estimatin' eye has been exercised mightily since I joined Weight Watchers, and if I do (again) say so myself, I'm pretty darned good at it. Accordingly, here are some eating out and estimatin' tips, from me to you:

• Get familiar with "normal" portion sizes, by weighing and measuring at home. I weigh or measure nearly everything I eat at home. It keeps me honest, and keeps my estimatin' eye from wandering into the large size department. Hint: it's a whole lot easier to weigh most things. Scoop peanut butter out of a tablespoon measure? Cram ice cream into a half-cup measure? Pfft. Not me. I have a digital self-zeroing scale that does grams, ounces, milliliters, and fluid ounces, thankyouverymuch.
• When you eat out, mentally "deconstruct" your meal, to figure out the "price" (calories or points) of each component. Here's an example: if I've ordered a pasta dish, I do my best to estimate how much pasta there is, how much sauce there is, how much chicken (or veggies, or shrimp) is in it. I total up the various components to arrive at a reasonable estimate. (Yes, it helps that I always carry a PDA, technology geek that I am.)
• Don't forget the fat . . . that the food was cooked in. I once heard this referred to as the "hidden hundred" -- 100 calories, that is. I usually figure that my meal has at least one tablespoon of added fat in it . . . and sometimes more, depending on how it's been cooked. (Don't be afraid to ask the kitchen to limit the cooking fat. You're the customer, remember, and you're always right.)
• Figure out how much of your meal you can comfortably eat, or that you have "room" for (that is, how many points or calories you can spend). Set aside the part you're going to take home, and enjoy the rest. Ask for a carryout container up front, if necessary, and transfer your next day's lunch before you even dig in.
• Don't forget to count the "extras" -- bread, butter, olive oil, sugar, etc. Those little things add up. You don't have to be obsessive about it, but remember that BLTs (bites, licks and tastes) sure can add up. (That goes for the freebies that BJs and Whole Foods hand out, too, you know . . . )

Finally -- don't stress over eating out. It can be just as easy to control your portions out, as at home. You just have to practice, practice, practice. Sure, you'll make mistakes. I did, I still do . . . usually along the lines of "oops, I didn't think they would deep-fry that." But one mistake will not blow your entire program, and you'll learn from both your mistakes and your successes.

So, eat out and enjoy! There's a whole world of food out there, food that you don't have to slave over a stove to produce. With practice, you'll be able to go anywhere, order anything, and still stick with your program.

Now, that's freedom.

* * * * *

If you enjoyed this essay, please send it on!

Planting a Garden

I did something today that I've not done in a very long time.

I cleared some flower beds and planted flowers.

Yeah, I have to say, there are periods when my poor landscaping beds suffer from neglect. Last year at this time, I was recovering from back surgery. Bending over weeding, amending soil, and planting was pretty much the last thing I should have been doing. (And don't even ask my husband to do yard work of any sort . . . it's why we have a mowing service.) Other years, I was tending to other things (in 2002, I cared for my Mom in her final year). Or, I was sadly out of shape. Gardening when you're an obese couch potato is pretty exhausting, so it got to the point where I just didn't do it.

But . . . this year. This year, I want to whip my landscaping into shape. I want to clear out all of the half-dead plants, get rid of the weeds. Remove the top 2 layers of hard, rocky clay and replace it with decent gardening soil. Put in some new plants, plant some annuals. Stick some interesting perennials in a few places. Prune. Mulch.

The whole 9 yards. And more.

And y'know, it's funny. I'm rolling off my "busy season" at work, and I got it in my head somehow that I could get it all done this weekend. I'm getting a late start, owing to the fact that I've been working most weekends this spring. And I guess I just wanted to catch it all up, in a hurry.

Once I plunged in, of course, I realized (as I always do) that this is going to take some time. A couple of days is simply not enough. I have other commitments the next couple of weekends, so my planting bed renovation may extend into June, or even July.

A part of me absolutely hates this. I want to get it all done NOW.

Now, why does that seem so familiar to me?

Oh, right. It's a lot like I used to feel when I got the "I hate being fat!" feeling. I felt awful about myself. Ashamed (at least until I shoved it all into the back of my mind). I wanted to be able to wake up thin the next day, or perhaps the day after.

I knew then, of course, that such a thing was impossible. I know it all the more today, and have become a fan of the slow approach. It may be, though, that I still have some problems applying that philosophy to other areas of my life.

A little while ago, I finally got some plants into the ground (just in time, too, as it's now storming) and went inside to get cleaned up. And it suddenly occurred to me: gardening is a lot like weight loss. It takes time -- oftentimes, more time than you originally intended. Sometimes, things don't always go as planned -- it rains buckets (you go to a party and eat too much), weeds try to take over (your best friend tries to sabotage you), it gets hot and dry and your plants wither (you get bored with your food and wonder, 'what's the use?').

But for every problem in the garden, there's a solution. Rain is beneficial, and you can always wait until the soil dries out, so you can get digging again. You can weed. You can water when it's dry. It's the same with weight loss . . . for every problem you encounter, there's a solution, if only you work to find it.

So, I'm going to be patient. I'm taking a vacation day this week, and I'll put it to good use . . . getting my hands in the soil, renovating my landscaping one square foot at a time. I'm going to do it right, and enjoy the process, and the eventual fruits of my labor.

I got a good start today: I weeded, dug up and worked on a 12' x 2' strip alongside the driveway. It's now filled with lovely New Guinea Impatiens, in salmon, pink, purple, and lavender. They are still quite small right now, but they will grow, as long as they get sufficient water, fertilizer, and sunlight. And before I know it, they will be so large that they'll be spilling onto the concrete. They will be so beautiful.

And worth waiting for, don'tcha think?

* * * * *

If you enjoyed this essay, please send it on!

Old Habits, Old Foods

"Oh, I didn't eat any of the cheesecake (steak, ice cream, pizza, donuts) at the party. If I take even one taste, I'll go back to my old habits, and regain my weight."

I read this, or some variation of it, several times a week on the Weight Watchers message boards. So many folks, it seems, are afraid of going back to their old habits and gaining it all back. I can understand that; I sure don't want to go back to the days of mindless eating, myself. That would not be a very good long-term maintenance strategy, now, would it?

But I think there's some confusion going on here. "Old foods" are not the same thing as "old habits." Sure, those old foods -- the good stuff you used to eat back before you started watching your weight -- are associated with old habits. But habits can be changed, and change doesn't necessarily require cutting yourself off completely from the foods you love.

Food is food is food. It's neither good nor bad, unless eaten to excess, or in the wrong proportions: too much fast food, tons of saturated fat, or too much sugary soda pop . . . or so many carrots that you turn a delicate shade of orange. Food has no power of its own -- no magic. It holds sway over us only when we let it take charge. If we take orders from a cookie, it's not the cookie doing the talking. It's US.

Here's a radical idea: it's not the old foods you ate that made you fat, but HOW you ate them. Eating too many french fries, too much fried chicken, a whole pizza, a half gallon of ice cream, a dozen donuts . . . that'll get you fat, sooner or later.

As with most all things, there really is a happy medium here (or a 'jolly fortuneteller,' as my dad used to say). You can still have your old foods. Nobody is forcing you to consume mass quantities of them, right? So, why can't you eat them in moderation, every once in a while?

Is it fear, perhaps?

We all fear the unknown. I'd venture to say that most of us formerly fat folks have not had a moderate relationship with food, especially with our faves. We're afraid that if we eat those old foods again, we'll lose control and gain it all back.

But realistically, it's difficult-to-near-impossible to go through the rest of your life NEVER having a french fry again, or a piece of cake, or some pizza.

In my opinion, healthy weight maintenance means learning how to eat ALL foods in moderation.

(Now, before you start wondering about my food habits, I would like to state uncategorically that I am not in favor of a junk food diet. I eat basically healthy foods, in large part because it's good for me and doing so helps me avoid a whole host of health problems that my genes are just waiting to spring on me, should I not watch myself.)

Practice, practice, practice. It's how you get to Carnegie Hall, and it's also how you learn to eat reasonable portions. Start small, move slowly. Each time you enjoy success, you will become more confident of your ability to control your intake. You may never be able to keep your so-called red light foods in your house, but you might very well learn to eat them when you're out -- and enjoy them guilt-free.

Remember -- it's not WHAT you eat, but HOW you eat it -- that is, HOW MUCH. Eat healthy, but have a little fun, too. Boring regimens are quickly discarded, and those "old habits" are more likely to return if you're not enjoying your food.

* * * * *

If you enjoyed this essay, please send it on!