I have the willpower of a gnat.
(Well, now that I've said that, I really have no idea how much willpower a gnat has, and it could possibly be offensive to this poor, defenseless creature who might, very possibly, have more willpower than I do. For the sake of literary license, let's just assume that a gnat has no willpower at all, okay?)
I can have all of the best intentions, I can be dedicated and motivated... but damnit, if I'm hungry and food's in the house, I'm going to eat it, regardless of whether it's healthy and on my diet plan.
This is especially true after a long day of work when the last thing I want to do is cook a decent meal when it would be much simpler to just grab the Off-Brand-Eggo in the freezer and throw it in the toaster.
So, to save me from myself, what I really need to do is a cupboard cleanout. If I shouldn't be eating it, it shouldn't be in the house. But, this gets especially complicated since I don't live alone - I have a roommate who is sure to protest her good snacks disappearing.
I hear similar stories when talking to my friends who are trying to get healthy. Unfortunately, we don't live in bubbles, and our eating habits are greatly influenced by the roommate, spouse, children, and friends who aren't on the same path we are. Suddenly, there are two meals to cook, (and didn't I just say that I barely have enough time to cook one?), two shopping lists to fulfill, and cupboards and fridges full of the not-so-healthy food that everyone else enjoys.
Not to mention how much of our social lives revolve around food. We join our friends for lunch, for coffee, for beer, etc. What's the most popular dating activity? Dinner and a movie. Temptation for the bad stuff is absolutely everywhere, and no one wants to be the girl in the corner of the room with a plate of veggies while everyone else is downing the cookies and eggnog.
What are some strategies that have worked for you when faced with temptation all around?
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Under Pressure
I'm most definitely in the realm of procrastinators.
In my defense, I usually do my best work when I'm under the pressure of a deadline. I was the girl you hated in college because I could stay up all night for a 8am deadline on a 20 page paper, write the whole thing under the influence of peppermint patties and yerba mate, and get an A. If I took weeks to do the same thing (as I had to do for classes which required multiple drafts), I'd get a B or worse.
I've had plenty of reinforcement to support my positive procrastination. It's worked for me, so why change?
Only this time...the deadline is a little more critical than most.
I had a nagging toothache for the past couple of weeks. I did what most of us would do (I think), I started brushing with Sensodyne and rinsing with Listerine, hoping the mild annoyance would go away before it escalated to needing a dreaded dentist visit. It didn't. In fact, it got increasingly worse until it reached the point where I was literally shrieking and shaking in pain, unable to move or think. I took, and I'm not proud of this, so please hold the lecture, 6 ibuprofen, 2 acetominophen, 1 Vicodin, and 4 shots of vodka in an attempt to numb the pain. It didn't even TOUCH it. Nothing helped.
After turning every bag of vegetables in my freezer into a makeshift icepack (don't laugh, it works), I resigned myself to going to the emergency dentist. They agreed that yes, there's a problem, and I need a root canal, but my blood pressure was so high that they couldn't. They advised that I go to a doctor right away and find out what was going on.
Suddenly, I'm sitting in a doctors office getting an EKG, and having so many needles stuck in my arm and wrist that I now have the bruising of an IV drug user. The doctor is suddenly talking about concerns about my liver and kidney function, heart arrhythmia, blood pressure, stroke risk, coronary disease risks, and describing how the next few months are going to be spent figuring out which combination of medication is going to work for me.
If my heart wasn't missing beats when I went into the office, it sure was after those words starting falling from the doctor's lips.
Look, I think I've been upfront in my blog that I'm not the picture of health, but it's something that I've been working on actively. But I never considered myself to be sick enough that I'm not allowed to have a routine dental procedure because I could have a heart attack or stroke in the chair. I'm not morbidly obese, but I'm overweight. I eat my share of junk food, but I also get healthy choices in there every day, and while I can't sprint a marathon, I can do a 5k without issues.
My point is, it never occurred to me that my health was bad enough that the doctor was surprised to hear that I'd been surviving without medication. Turns out, it was.
So this is where I am. I have to get healthy, and the deadline is now. (Actually, it was a couple of years ago, but let's not belabor the point.)
It's not so that I can drop a few sizes and fit into the cute jeans hanging in the back of the closet.
It's so that I can live.
Now THERE'S a deadline with a built-in consequence for failure.
In my defense, I usually do my best work when I'm under the pressure of a deadline. I was the girl you hated in college because I could stay up all night for a 8am deadline on a 20 page paper, write the whole thing under the influence of peppermint patties and yerba mate, and get an A. If I took weeks to do the same thing (as I had to do for classes which required multiple drafts), I'd get a B or worse.
I've had plenty of reinforcement to support my positive procrastination. It's worked for me, so why change?
Only this time...the deadline is a little more critical than most.
I had a nagging toothache for the past couple of weeks. I did what most of us would do (I think), I started brushing with Sensodyne and rinsing with Listerine, hoping the mild annoyance would go away before it escalated to needing a dreaded dentist visit. It didn't. In fact, it got increasingly worse until it reached the point where I was literally shrieking and shaking in pain, unable to move or think. I took, and I'm not proud of this, so please hold the lecture, 6 ibuprofen, 2 acetominophen, 1 Vicodin, and 4 shots of vodka in an attempt to numb the pain. It didn't even TOUCH it. Nothing helped.
After turning every bag of vegetables in my freezer into a makeshift icepack (don't laugh, it works), I resigned myself to going to the emergency dentist. They agreed that yes, there's a problem, and I need a root canal, but my blood pressure was so high that they couldn't. They advised that I go to a doctor right away and find out what was going on.
Suddenly, I'm sitting in a doctors office getting an EKG, and having so many needles stuck in my arm and wrist that I now have the bruising of an IV drug user. The doctor is suddenly talking about concerns about my liver and kidney function, heart arrhythmia, blood pressure, stroke risk, coronary disease risks, and describing how the next few months are going to be spent figuring out which combination of medication is going to work for me.
If my heart wasn't missing beats when I went into the office, it sure was after those words starting falling from the doctor's lips.
Look, I think I've been upfront in my blog that I'm not the picture of health, but it's something that I've been working on actively. But I never considered myself to be sick enough that I'm not allowed to have a routine dental procedure because I could have a heart attack or stroke in the chair. I'm not morbidly obese, but I'm overweight. I eat my share of junk food, but I also get healthy choices in there every day, and while I can't sprint a marathon, I can do a 5k without issues.
My point is, it never occurred to me that my health was bad enough that the doctor was surprised to hear that I'd been surviving without medication. Turns out, it was.
So this is where I am. I have to get healthy, and the deadline is now. (Actually, it was a couple of years ago, but let's not belabor the point.)
It's not so that I can drop a few sizes and fit into the cute jeans hanging in the back of the closet.
It's so that I can live.
Now THERE'S a deadline with a built-in consequence for failure.
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