I was diagnosed with breast cancer just before Christmas (yeah, Happy Holidays!), and that’s been my excuse for everything I don’t feel like doing ever since. Like eating well or exercising or going to bed at a reasonable time. “I oughta be able to do this — I have cancer!” Obviously, that’s not going to… Continue reading The new normal; chard-crab quiche
I hurt in places where I didn’t know I had places. Specifically, my triceps, my upper and lower abs. That’s from Pilates, and it actually feels kinda nice, when I shift in my seat, to be reminded that I made it all the way through a fairly brutal class yesterday.
I. Love. Boxing. Not to watch but to do. Wish I’d known 40 or 50 years ago how much fun it is to safely smash things. We have two teenage boys in our little class at the Y, and I’m trying not to slow their cage-fighting career progress. Last night (first class) I had my… Continue reading All Aboard the Weight Watchers Express
Lately, I’ve been a real Eeyore about my weight loss. Nothing’s changed for almost a month. Well, technically, I did get rid of the 4 pounds I slapped on as a non-exercising, two-glasses-of-wine-a-night-drinking tourist in Virginia. Then there was my birthday and Annie P’s first-ever shadow cake. Then… nothing. Nothing while I went back to work… Continue reading Avocado BLT Pizza
That’s a grammar police swipe at It Was Me All Along, Andie Mitchell’s memoir of coming to terms with her food addiction (clarkson potter, 2015). Mitchell is a (now) beautiful blogger (canyoustayfordinner.com) who, like so many of us, has had her more than whale-size phases. I wanted to like this book for many reasons, including the… Continue reading It was I all along or, even better, I was in here the whole time
Things I need to accept: 1. All weight “lost” will be found as soon as I think I can eat like a normal-weight person. I dropped to 186 pounds before my high school reunion in August and, magically, I’m back up to 203 after yesterday’s first of two Thanksgiving dinners this week. Beef producers should… Continue reading Ten commandments
“None of her actions was in the least inauthentic, but her degree of alienation from goals, actions, simple states of being — the acute, inescapable self-surveillance of the addict — resembles that rarefied ontological space of the depressive, the anxious, the ill, the poet.” (Joshua Cody’s [sic] — A Memoir, W.W. Norton & Co., 2011)… Continue reading Addiction, the sequel (again)