Good-Bye Wagon; Hello Sugar Hang-Over

Before I begin my blog for today, let me first say, I feel partly absurd and frivolous for even writing a blog entry about last M. Malick’s weekly weight loss struggle.  With the recent earthquake and tsunami in Northern Japan and the subsequent devastation and potential nuclear disaster, writing about weight loss feels a little self-indulgent to say the least.  And for those who have read The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, I see myself a little like the fictional Juliet.  Writing something trifling.  Or so it seems.

If you couldn’t guess from the title of this week’s entry, last week provided a dietary challenge.  It started with Pie Day.  What is Pie Day? You wonder.  It is how the staff celebrated Mardi Gras, Shrove Tuesday, or more apt, Fat Tuesday.  All staff persons were invited to make a pie to share for lunch.  And pies included, but were not limited to, dessert pies, shepherd’s pies, empanadas, and spanakopita.  So, since I lost 2+ pounds last week, I indulged a little.  And oh it was wonderful.  I officially treated myself to a day off…knowing that Ash Wednesday was the following day, and I would be back on the wagon.  Or so I planned.  Well, what started as a day off turned into 5.  That’s right.  Five!  Now, just to be clear, I did not go and buy gallons of ice cream, demolish an entire bag of chips, or devour an entire batch of cookies.  Not at all.  What I did was not measure, not plan, and not think.  Thursday was a late lunch including 3/4 of a personal pizza and Friday started a 24 hour women’s retreat.  Although I was part of the staff leading the retreat, my detail eye did not design what I would eat.  So, I ate what we had.  Which included a nice wine and cheese, fried green tomato casserole, brownies, and ice cream.

But apparently my eyes are now officially bigger than my stomach.  The brownie and ice cream indulgence was Friday night. And Saturday morning I awoke with a head and stomach ache.  If I didn’t have to work, I would have stayed in bed.  I had a hangover–a sugar hangover.  I have heard of this before.  Wasn’t sure it was possible.  Thought it was probably a Weight Watcher Myth attempting to help us stay on plan.  But I’m here to tell you, it is possible.  Apparently, I have changed more than my waistline in the las month.  My body no longer finds comfort in uber-sugar indulgence.  (Now I don’t mean to say I’m not going to have a brownie again–but I think half a brownie as opposed to two is a good plan.)  Amazing!

What’s even more amazing is that I avoided having the hair of the dog that bit me.  I knew I could assuage my stomach strain with a little sweet treat.  And Saturday night offered cupcakes with thick, creamy frosting.  They looked good.  But I still didn’t feel quite right.  And I decided to say no.  Wasn’t worth it.  Didn’t want to wake-up hung-over again.  One woman commented, You’re so good.  I don’t think it was being good so much as a matter of self-love and self-care.  I guess I am learning to be a better steward of myself.  And I discovered that this love tastes much better than brownies and ice cream.

Quotes for the week

“Ever’thing there is but lovin’ leaves rust on yo’ soul”–Langston Hughes

“We must alter our lives in order to alter our hearts, for it is impossible to live one way and pray another” –William Law

“Whose end is destruction, whose God is their belly”–Philippians 3:19**

**I’m not big on the destruction selections in Scripture, but in light of the feeling in my belly, I thought this an apt excerpt