This week I launched into the Controlled Trade Technique and tried out some "dangerous" food choices. I was successful in eating some Easter chocolate, some gravy, and a slice of pizza. By successful I mean I didn't fall off the diet wagon after eating them. And I ate them slowly, savoring each bite as the Controlled Trade Technique requires. For 5/8 ounce of chocolate, I traded 1/2 bread and 1 fat. I did that twice last week. I also had 4 T. of gravy with Easter roast beef, trading 1/2 bread and 1 fat for that too. Finally, I had a section of pizza for lunch yesterday (my coworkers surprised me and my fellow admin assistants with it), for which I traded 2 fats, 2 breads, and 1 1/2 oz chicken (half a lunch protein).
Now, because I'm so many weeks into the diet, I determined I could do more than one controlled trade per week. The trades were supposed to start the third week, but since I'm in the ninth week, I figured I should be up to six by now. So four trades was okay.
A funny thing happened on the way to Dangertown, though. I found that the Thin Gourmet technique helped, not only to get me to slow down and appreciate the former binge foods as I was eating them, but also to really taste them. And really tasting them had a surprising result: I determined they weren't all that wonderful. Oh, sure, they were tasty, but I wasn't convinced they were worth giving up what I had to give up to eat them.
For instance, eating the candy slowly and paying attention to its taste made me realize that chocolate is very acidic--too acidic, really. I drank milk as I was eating it, as I have often done with chocolate, and realized for the first time that milk cuts the acid in chocolate, which is why I drink it. In the end, eating the chocolate seemed more like an experiment than a treat. Could it be that wolfing chocolate down unconsciously is the only way to enjoy it? Hmmm. Or maybe I need to eat a better brand of chocolate? But that can't be, because it was Hershey's chocolate and I've been enjoying Hershey's for many years. Or maybe, just maybe, the appeal is in the forbidden quality of the treat. If it's legit, eaten in the open, somehow it loses its charm? Something to ponder . . .
I lost interest in the pizza, too, after a while. I ate the toppings, but they weren't enough, really, for a satisfying meal. And the bread was too much, so I left a third of it behind. I was affirmed in my belief that pizza is mostly bread, fat, and salt. I was full after eating it, but then a couple of hours later I was hungry for something substantial and decided to go ahead and eat the lunch I had brought. (But then I forgot that I ate the extra 1 1/2 oz of meat when it came time for supper. Oh, well.)
At that point I was thinking that though the pizza was good and I appreciated the gesture, it wasn't really a substitute for lunch. It was a celebratory snack, which is fine. And because of that, it wasn't necessary to eat more than one piece in order to join the celebration and show gratitude for the gift. I don't think anyone noticed that I didn't eat half a pizza. (That particular subterfuge--the Martyr--was revealed to be what it was.)
As for the binge quality of the chocolate, I found that while I was not craving the chocolate, I did have the urge to eat it to get rid of it. That's part of my relationship with food, too--bringing treats into the house which must then be gotten rid of somehow, and since I have an aversion to throwing food away, that means it must be given away or eaten. And "eaten" is usually the choice.
By the way, the gravy was no problem. I made the gravy and so knew how much flour and fat went into it. I didn't feel the urge to eat more gravy than I allowed myself, so maybe gravy is a food I can include in my diet. As a substitute for fat, it's not a bad choice--lends a little variety to what has become our rather plain fare.
So, I learned a lot this week and I plan to go on flirting with "dangerous" food choices in the future. Maybe soon I can tackle ice cream . . .
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Week 8: Choices
This week I didn't introduce any new foods to my diet, but I did become more aware of the foods I have already added to my diet, such as graham crackers. I am able to eat them in reasonable quantities, as long as I have a "bread" left over to substitute for, athough I do find myself wanting some on those days I don't have a bread left over.
I'm becoming more aware of choices I make about eating, which is a good thing. It means I've become more aware of what and how much I eat, something I was not fully conscious of in the past. So it seems that I make trade-offs all day long, most of them consciously and directed toward a goal.
For example, at breakfast time I must choose what to have for breakfast. In the past, I would simply eat whatever I was in the mood for. Now I consider appetite as a factor, but also consider how to line up my breakfast choices with my snack choices. If I eat an egg for breakfast, I'm going to want to have bread with it and also juice of some kind, because that's what goes together in my mind. I usually like to have an over-easy egg, which means runny yolk and that requires bread to soak it up. The juice is required to add tart to the taste of the egg. But I like to save my breakfast bread for my mid-morning snack, so if I eat my bread at breakfast, I won't be able to have it for my snack later. I have to be willing to have something else for my snack that day--fruit or yogurt, maybe. Also, a consideration of the egg involves whether or not I've had my quota of eggs for that week (<=5).
If I choose cereal for breakfast, then I've used a milk allocation (1 of 2), which means I can't have yogurt for my afternoon snack, since I'd only have one milk left. Or, if I have yogurt in the afternoon, that means I can't have it for my evening snack. Most of the time, fruit will substitute for milk or bread in my snacks. But I don't want to run out of everything before my evening snack, or I'll end up eating celery sticks, which are not appetizing at that time of night.
So you see, I reckon the impact of every choice I make on the rest of the day's (or the week's) menu. It's as if my food consumption were a kind of ecology--all choices impact other choices and outcomes.
Now, some may say this is bleak because it seems so unspontaneous. Well, to those people I say that spontaneity is what got me where I was 8 weeks ago--70 lbs overweight. Like the big corporations, my appetite cannot be trusted to self-police. Controls have been wanting. So like the government, I'm instituting regulations and monitoring procedures to bring Big Appetite back into line with what my body expects--behavior conducive to the health of the entire organism.
In the coming weeks, I'm going to continue making healthful choices and reigning in Big Appetite while trying to add new foods to my diet plan in a controlled manner. As always, I'll let you know how it goes.
I'm becoming more aware of choices I make about eating, which is a good thing. It means I've become more aware of what and how much I eat, something I was not fully conscious of in the past. So it seems that I make trade-offs all day long, most of them consciously and directed toward a goal.
For example, at breakfast time I must choose what to have for breakfast. In the past, I would simply eat whatever I was in the mood for. Now I consider appetite as a factor, but also consider how to line up my breakfast choices with my snack choices. If I eat an egg for breakfast, I'm going to want to have bread with it and also juice of some kind, because that's what goes together in my mind. I usually like to have an over-easy egg, which means runny yolk and that requires bread to soak it up. The juice is required to add tart to the taste of the egg. But I like to save my breakfast bread for my mid-morning snack, so if I eat my bread at breakfast, I won't be able to have it for my snack later. I have to be willing to have something else for my snack that day--fruit or yogurt, maybe. Also, a consideration of the egg involves whether or not I've had my quota of eggs for that week (<=5).
If I choose cereal for breakfast, then I've used a milk allocation (1 of 2), which means I can't have yogurt for my afternoon snack, since I'd only have one milk left. Or, if I have yogurt in the afternoon, that means I can't have it for my evening snack. Most of the time, fruit will substitute for milk or bread in my snacks. But I don't want to run out of everything before my evening snack, or I'll end up eating celery sticks, which are not appetizing at that time of night.
So you see, I reckon the impact of every choice I make on the rest of the day's (or the week's) menu. It's as if my food consumption were a kind of ecology--all choices impact other choices and outcomes.
Now, some may say this is bleak because it seems so unspontaneous. Well, to those people I say that spontaneity is what got me where I was 8 weeks ago--70 lbs overweight. Like the big corporations, my appetite cannot be trusted to self-police. Controls have been wanting. So like the government, I'm instituting regulations and monitoring procedures to bring Big Appetite back into line with what my body expects--behavior conducive to the health of the entire organism.
In the coming weeks, I'm going to continue making healthful choices and reigning in Big Appetite while trying to add new foods to my diet plan in a controlled manner. As always, I'll let you know how it goes.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Step 5: The Controlled Trade Technique
This week (week seven!) I was more diligent about recording my consumption, even when I forgot to bring my notebook to work a couple of times. I also tried harder to focus on the Thin Gourmet technique when eating and succeeded most of the time. It was a pretty good week; I even survived going to the mall and eating only the food I brought with me to snack on. And I got some walking in, too!
But I feel like it's time to move on to the next step, which is Step 5: The Controlled Trade Technique (127). In this step, the dieter must start to tackle those eating challenges that have heretofore proved impossible to master. For instance, when I say I can't eat just five potato chips, or a 1/2 cup serving of ice cream, or a small slice of pie or cake or one small doughnut or one chocolate, I'm saying that with those foods, I'm either all in or I'm all out. There's no hope of ever eating those foods normally.
So to say that these foods, too, will be conquered is like whistling in the dark. I fear those foods, and I'm not altogether sure I can conquer them, but I can certainly have that as my goal and take steps toward it, however tentative. Shirley offers us a path toward normalcy, one which other diet plans purport to offer, but don't provide realistic help to achieve.
I'm thinking specifically of Weight Watchers and their system of "points" or some other method where you can choose a tiny brownie instead of an apple. That sounds good--you get to eat the foods you love, right? But what they don't seem to recognize is how very difficult it is to eat only one tiny brownie and not go on to eat the whole box. Or maybe they do, and their real goal is to get you to eat their pricey brownies instead of the ones you could get at the day-old bread store for much less. They know you're going to eat the whole box, and they don't care because it's more money for them. And that's in addition to the money you've already paid for "dues" to the Weight Watchers organization. I could be wrong, but it sounds like a scam to me.
Shirley Simon doesn't sell you any special low calorie food to keep you on her eating program. In fact, she wants you to be able to eat the regular, high calorie treats that everyone else eats (although these days, "everyone else" seems to be the fatties), but in the normal serving size and quantity. When was the last time you ate 100 calories worth of potato chips and felt satisfied with that? Well, that's the ultimate goal for Shirley and those who follow her plan. And it's not at all easy getting to that point.
So, Shirley introduces the Controlled Trade Technique as a method to move slowly toward the realm of normal eating behavior. As Shirley states, "You can learn how to enjoy only a half cup of ice cream and even how to eat just ten salted peanuts" (127). But Shirley warns that it's "a technique. It's not an attitude of 'Whoopee, now I get all those good things.' It's true that you do get to eat many good things, and that's fine because the happier you are the more successful you will be as a dieter. But this step goes beyond making you a happy eater. It's a learning technique."
Through this technique, you learn to conquer your "food fears," as Shirley calls them (128). Those foods that are hard to control become foods that the dieter either avoids completely, or gives into completely. This works out to a disadvantage when the person finally loses weight and must now cope with the forbidden foods. Usually the encounter leads right back to bad eating behaviors and weight gain.
As Shirley puts it, "The lack of practice in coping with these foods, combined with the fears and the feelings of inadequacy, account for many of the failures during maintenance and for much of the perennial weight seesawing." How does the typical dieter go from eating a whole pie, to months of eating no pie at all, to having just one small slice? He can't, says Shirley: "The vast multitudes of dieters just can't go from the great buildup to that great letdown. So they eat more than they should and they get fat all over again."
To change that result, says Shirley, you have to learn to gradually get more control over those foods. When dieting is separated from not-dieting so completely, it becomes almost impossible for an out-of-control eater to step over the line and succeed in being a controlled eater. So what to do? Take away the abrupt change by making change incremental over the weeks of being on the eating program. By the time you've lost all the weight you want to lose, you're already eating like a thin person (129).
The technique is simple: Shirley has lists of foods that can be exchanged for basic program foods to be eaten in controlled quantities and situations. She also has Weekend Specials, where you can eat special foods, also in controlled quantities. I've already been doing some of this by substituting a few foods that were forbidden on the starter diet with ones I think I can handle, like lunchmeat and peanut butter. But other foods, like ice-cream, have strictly been barred (except for that one day when I had a slice of pizza).
So, this week, I'm going to try the Controlled Trade Technique. I'm going to start with foods I'm not sure I can handle, and use the Thin Gourmet and other techniques to eat them in small quantities and slowly, with enjoyment. I don't know yet what those foods will be, but I'll keep you posted.
But I feel like it's time to move on to the next step, which is Step 5: The Controlled Trade Technique (127). In this step, the dieter must start to tackle those eating challenges that have heretofore proved impossible to master. For instance, when I say I can't eat just five potato chips, or a 1/2 cup serving of ice cream, or a small slice of pie or cake or one small doughnut or one chocolate, I'm saying that with those foods, I'm either all in or I'm all out. There's no hope of ever eating those foods normally.
So to say that these foods, too, will be conquered is like whistling in the dark. I fear those foods, and I'm not altogether sure I can conquer them, but I can certainly have that as my goal and take steps toward it, however tentative. Shirley offers us a path toward normalcy, one which other diet plans purport to offer, but don't provide realistic help to achieve.
I'm thinking specifically of Weight Watchers and their system of "points" or some other method where you can choose a tiny brownie instead of an apple. That sounds good--you get to eat the foods you love, right? But what they don't seem to recognize is how very difficult it is to eat only one tiny brownie and not go on to eat the whole box. Or maybe they do, and their real goal is to get you to eat their pricey brownies instead of the ones you could get at the day-old bread store for much less. They know you're going to eat the whole box, and they don't care because it's more money for them. And that's in addition to the money you've already paid for "dues" to the Weight Watchers organization. I could be wrong, but it sounds like a scam to me.
Shirley Simon doesn't sell you any special low calorie food to keep you on her eating program. In fact, she wants you to be able to eat the regular, high calorie treats that everyone else eats (although these days, "everyone else" seems to be the fatties), but in the normal serving size and quantity. When was the last time you ate 100 calories worth of potato chips and felt satisfied with that? Well, that's the ultimate goal for Shirley and those who follow her plan. And it's not at all easy getting to that point.
So, Shirley introduces the Controlled Trade Technique as a method to move slowly toward the realm of normal eating behavior. As Shirley states, "You can learn how to enjoy only a half cup of ice cream and even how to eat just ten salted peanuts" (127). But Shirley warns that it's "a technique. It's not an attitude of 'Whoopee, now I get all those good things.' It's true that you do get to eat many good things, and that's fine because the happier you are the more successful you will be as a dieter. But this step goes beyond making you a happy eater. It's a learning technique."
Through this technique, you learn to conquer your "food fears," as Shirley calls them (128). Those foods that are hard to control become foods that the dieter either avoids completely, or gives into completely. This works out to a disadvantage when the person finally loses weight and must now cope with the forbidden foods. Usually the encounter leads right back to bad eating behaviors and weight gain.
As Shirley puts it, "The lack of practice in coping with these foods, combined with the fears and the feelings of inadequacy, account for many of the failures during maintenance and for much of the perennial weight seesawing." How does the typical dieter go from eating a whole pie, to months of eating no pie at all, to having just one small slice? He can't, says Shirley: "The vast multitudes of dieters just can't go from the great buildup to that great letdown. So they eat more than they should and they get fat all over again."
To change that result, says Shirley, you have to learn to gradually get more control over those foods. When dieting is separated from not-dieting so completely, it becomes almost impossible for an out-of-control eater to step over the line and succeed in being a controlled eater. So what to do? Take away the abrupt change by making change incremental over the weeks of being on the eating program. By the time you've lost all the weight you want to lose, you're already eating like a thin person (129).
The technique is simple: Shirley has lists of foods that can be exchanged for basic program foods to be eaten in controlled quantities and situations. She also has Weekend Specials, where you can eat special foods, also in controlled quantities. I've already been doing some of this by substituting a few foods that were forbidden on the starter diet with ones I think I can handle, like lunchmeat and peanut butter. But other foods, like ice-cream, have strictly been barred (except for that one day when I had a slice of pizza).
So, this week, I'm going to try the Controlled Trade Technique. I'm going to start with foods I'm not sure I can handle, and use the Thin Gourmet and other techniques to eat them in small quantities and slowly, with enjoyment. I don't know yet what those foods will be, but I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Week 6: The Complacency Challenge
Today begins week seven of following Shirley, and thanks to my husband John and his nutritious dinners, I continue to stick pretty close to my eating plan. (I'm losing weight too, but that's beside the point.) In fact, I'm doing so well that I'm in danger of getting complacent. I'm forgetting to write down my food each hour, having to catch up at the end of the day, or even occasionally the next day.
Is it really necessary to record all consumption? Yes, I think it is, because it keeps the reality in the forefront. I don't want to start losing track of what I eat again. That's unconscious eating, which leads to trouble.
Speaking of unconscious eating, I've been having trouble practicing the Thin Gourmet technique, and until I can do that consistently, I refuse to move on to the next step. What's difficult about the TG technique is its slowness, I think. It's hard to put the fork down, chew slowly and with awareness, all while conversing. And slowing down means the food gets cold sooner. I don't like cold food, so sometimes I warm it up in the microwave halfway through the meal. But I do find that I get full sooner, too.
But that's another challenge: stopping when full. I've done it a few times, but it's not easy. I feel that tiny bit of fear that if I don't eat it now, I won't have it later. Of course, that's irrational. No one will eat the food if I put it in the refrigerator. And even if someone does, what have I lost? Two ounces of meat or starch that I could easily do without anyway. There must be something primal about cleaning one's plate--a survival instinct born of scarce food and occasional feasts that make it a good strategy to pack it away when the opportunity presents itself.
But that doesn't explain how my slender friend can stop eating when full, put the food in the refrigerator and forget about it until it's gone bad. I guess she must be missing that instinct. If we ever have to go back to hunting and gathering to obtain food, she'll be in trouble! Meanwhile, however, she's the same size she was when she was a teenager.
So this week my goal is to practice TG at every meal so that it eventually becomes a habit. Wish me luck!
Is it really necessary to record all consumption? Yes, I think it is, because it keeps the reality in the forefront. I don't want to start losing track of what I eat again. That's unconscious eating, which leads to trouble.
Speaking of unconscious eating, I've been having trouble practicing the Thin Gourmet technique, and until I can do that consistently, I refuse to move on to the next step. What's difficult about the TG technique is its slowness, I think. It's hard to put the fork down, chew slowly and with awareness, all while conversing. And slowing down means the food gets cold sooner. I don't like cold food, so sometimes I warm it up in the microwave halfway through the meal. But I do find that I get full sooner, too.
But that's another challenge: stopping when full. I've done it a few times, but it's not easy. I feel that tiny bit of fear that if I don't eat it now, I won't have it later. Of course, that's irrational. No one will eat the food if I put it in the refrigerator. And even if someone does, what have I lost? Two ounces of meat or starch that I could easily do without anyway. There must be something primal about cleaning one's plate--a survival instinct born of scarce food and occasional feasts that make it a good strategy to pack it away when the opportunity presents itself.
But that doesn't explain how my slender friend can stop eating when full, put the food in the refrigerator and forget about it until it's gone bad. I guess she must be missing that instinct. If we ever have to go back to hunting and gathering to obtain food, she'll be in trouble! Meanwhile, however, she's the same size she was when she was a teenager.
So this week my goal is to practice TG at every meal so that it eventually becomes a habit. Wish me luck!
Sunday, April 3, 2011
The Pizza Pig-Out Challenge
Here I am at the beginning of six weeks! Not too shabby, eh? I'm pretty surprised, actually, to have gotten this far, which is a good attitude to have considering the challenges ahead of changing some pretty entrenched habits.
One habit I've had for quite a while is the habit of pigging out. I'm starting to notice how often advertisers try to persuade me to indulge in some eating extravaganza, usually involving high fat, high sugar or high salt foods in massive quantities. They try to make such indulgence look normal, an everyday occurrence in American households. They know people are addicted to fat, so they can count on getting people to go to a restaurant where they can get a 10-ounce steak smothered in fried onions and mushrooms, with "loaded" potatoes and chocolate cheesecake for dessert. Or how about the burger places that tout their biggest, juiciest, double bacon and three-cheese half pound burger for only $4.65 (limited time only)? The number of all-you-can-eat restaurants has certainly risen alarmingly over the last twenty years. And food and chef shows on TV have become very popular--the word foodie has entered our vocabulary with a positive connotation (unlike its counterpart in drink, alchie).
What's really amazing is that all this is happening at the same time that the government is trying to get everyone to stop eating so much bad food by regulating the food service and grocery industries. I guess that's America--land of contradictions.
So, all that is a way of explaining how tough it can sometimes be not to indulge the way I used to (way back in February). I have to keep telling myself that I can't eat like that anymore. What's a little harder to tell myself is that I don't want to eat like that anymore.
I had a chance to practice my new more sensible habits this past week. We had a pizza party at work this past Friday to celebrate someone's retirement. I helped put the party together and made sure there was plenty of pizza for everyone who wanted it. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to eat any pizza, though, since that has always been a pig-out food for me. But once everyone had gone through the line, I decided I could risk one piece. And I had some salad, too, with fat-free dressing. The pizza slice was very large, I have to say, and it was delicious. But I tried to practice my "thin gourmet" technique and eat slowly, chewing thoroughly, stopping between bites and enjoying the flavors. I must admit it worked pretty well, since by the time I was finished eating that one piece, I was full and didn't want to eat any more. In the past, I would've breezed right through the first and second pieces and then, if there were any left, talked myself into having a third piece with the excuse of not wanting any pizza to "go to waste."
Of course, figuring out how that pizza slice fit into my food plan was another challenge. I looked up the nutritional information on the restaurant's web site, and it gave me a ballpark figure, so I worked it out somehow. I counted it as a special meal at which I ate a reasonable amount of pizza. What's different is that I didn't just write it off as an anomaly and try to ignore it. I've done that in the past. When I'd fall off the wagon, I'd say "Oh, well, now's my chance to eat what I want for a while." Shirley warns us about that. It's why she insists on an hourly accounting of food consumed: each hour you can start over.
So, I guess this week I can claim I faced the "pizza pig-out" challenge and won--at least in this first contest. I'm sure there are many more such contests to come.
One habit I've had for quite a while is the habit of pigging out. I'm starting to notice how often advertisers try to persuade me to indulge in some eating extravaganza, usually involving high fat, high sugar or high salt foods in massive quantities. They try to make such indulgence look normal, an everyday occurrence in American households. They know people are addicted to fat, so they can count on getting people to go to a restaurant where they can get a 10-ounce steak smothered in fried onions and mushrooms, with "loaded" potatoes and chocolate cheesecake for dessert. Or how about the burger places that tout their biggest, juiciest, double bacon and three-cheese half pound burger for only $4.65 (limited time only)? The number of all-you-can-eat restaurants has certainly risen alarmingly over the last twenty years. And food and chef shows on TV have become very popular--the word foodie has entered our vocabulary with a positive connotation (unlike its counterpart in drink, alchie).
What's really amazing is that all this is happening at the same time that the government is trying to get everyone to stop eating so much bad food by regulating the food service and grocery industries. I guess that's America--land of contradictions.
So, all that is a way of explaining how tough it can sometimes be not to indulge the way I used to (way back in February). I have to keep telling myself that I can't eat like that anymore. What's a little harder to tell myself is that I don't want to eat like that anymore.
I had a chance to practice my new more sensible habits this past week. We had a pizza party at work this past Friday to celebrate someone's retirement. I helped put the party together and made sure there was plenty of pizza for everyone who wanted it. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to eat any pizza, though, since that has always been a pig-out food for me. But once everyone had gone through the line, I decided I could risk one piece. And I had some salad, too, with fat-free dressing. The pizza slice was very large, I have to say, and it was delicious. But I tried to practice my "thin gourmet" technique and eat slowly, chewing thoroughly, stopping between bites and enjoying the flavors. I must admit it worked pretty well, since by the time I was finished eating that one piece, I was full and didn't want to eat any more. In the past, I would've breezed right through the first and second pieces and then, if there were any left, talked myself into having a third piece with the excuse of not wanting any pizza to "go to waste."
Of course, figuring out how that pizza slice fit into my food plan was another challenge. I looked up the nutritional information on the restaurant's web site, and it gave me a ballpark figure, so I worked it out somehow. I counted it as a special meal at which I ate a reasonable amount of pizza. What's different is that I didn't just write it off as an anomaly and try to ignore it. I've done that in the past. When I'd fall off the wagon, I'd say "Oh, well, now's my chance to eat what I want for a while." Shirley warns us about that. It's why she insists on an hourly accounting of food consumed: each hour you can start over.
So, I guess this week I can claim I faced the "pizza pig-out" challenge and won--at least in this first contest. I'm sure there are many more such contests to come.
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