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A LITTLE MORE BUTTER, PLEASE
3 October 2006
When I actually thought about it, I had to laugh at myself.
Walt had asked the question I dread every Sunday: "So...do you want to go to the gym later?"
I, who went religiously to the gym every day for so long, who was out there at 6 a.m., rain or shine, riding my bike, doing all the machines, belonging to The Pre-Breakfast Club, tackling the "dreaded overpass" on the way home and doing all that healthy stuff, have put back all the weight I lost, have given up biking because of my knee, and am a first class couch potato.
The diet that was going to be my "last diet" probably was. 85 lbs gone, through lots of hard work and now I just don't care. I don't see that I will go through all that again. It takes me so long to get into the mindset to start a life changing program (took 10 years to get there last time) and, since I know the danger of fad diets, the only way I will do it is sensibly, and I'm just so far from getting into that mindset that it's not even on the horizon any more.
And so when he asks "do you want to go to the gym later?" I cringe, but I know that I should go, so I do it because I can't really come up with a good excuse not to do it. And dammit, I actually do feel better when we leave, but not enough better to actually take the iniative to get out and do it myself again like I used to (so don't send me words of encouragement -- I've heard them all, I know all the reasons why and why not, and just don't care).
I forgot to bring my headphones with me this week. I usually plug in and watch CNN or whatever else happens to be on while I read my book and I walk about a mile on the treadmill. It takes me half an hour at 2.0 mph. Then I sit in the lobby and continue to read my book while Walt finishes on the treadmill, and then we drive home to listen to "Says You" on the radio.
Walt was going to be reading a magazine while he was on the treadmill, so he loaned me his headphones.
The book I brought to read was the third of Ruth Reichl's books that I'm reading, "Tender at the Bone: Growing Up at the Table," the first half of her autobiography, where she discusses the development of her early love of food and presumably follows her through to opening her own restaurant.
So I'm there at the gym, on the treadmill, reading about this young girl's addiction to rich foods and reading the recipes she includes for things like berry tarts and what am I watching on television?
Well, there was a football game on Screen #1, CNN on the middle screen talking about the Foley scandal about which I have heard quite enough, thankyewverymuch, which left Screen #3, which was tuned to the food channel, where Paula Deen was giving her first cooking class in her new show. Yes, the queen of fat and grease and Comfort Food with a capital C and F was dishing up gloppy cheese-laden grits, macaroni and cheese, biscuits dripping with butter, and deep fried chicken (I finished on the treadmill before she got to dessert).
So I'm there to get healthy and I'm barely even aware of the treadmill I'm walking on because I'm concentrating on the foods I'm reading about while the information on more bad-for-you food is being pumped into my ears. (Come to think of it, what is a gym doing with the Food Network on anyway?)
Is it any wonder that I know that my brain is not in the right place to get back into the routine I maintained for two years?
As for a doggie update, we are seriously discussing keeping Happy (or Rosie, as I'm calling her). She still hasn't displayed any unusually bad habits, gets along great with Sheila and is just so darn cute. I suspect that the more she settles in here we'll discover that she likes to leap up on tables to eat food, but I'm working to curb that notion already.
It does seem, at the moment, a bit overwhelming...
...but Mini is supposed to go to her new home tomorrow. She's a very strange dog, who will sit, like this, in Walt's lap and then later, when she's sitting by herself, growl at him if he tries to pet her. With that snaggle tooth, she looks meaner than she really is, but her permanent family is going to have to be a little patient, I think.
While the delays in getting her to her new home have been somewhat frustrating, all things considered, I'm glad that it's taking this long because she gets better every day. It takes us old gals longer to recover from surgery than the young pups.
PHOTO OF THE DAY
(She's actually yawning,
This is Journal entry #2378