The Rogue’s Gallery of Foods That Nearly Took Me Down

Whenever I whine about not losing weight fast enough, there’s always someone nearby to remind me, “Well, you didn’t get fat overnight, so you’re not going to lose it overnight.” I kinda hate it when people say that, even if they are right.

I’m well aware that I didn’t get fat because I ate one cream puff and *poof*…instant fat. It took a lot of effort and a lot of yummy food that found its way to my mouth over the years.

I’m not an indiscriminate eater. My mother would tell you I was incredibly picky about food as a child…it just so happens that most of the foods I liked were high-calorie and filled with sugar and fat. Basically, I loved a few foods a little too much, to the point of abusing them.

If I tried to think of the top foods that I overate when I was younger (which I clearly am trying to do according to the title of this post), I can think of five in particular that were my worst. These were foods that I was simply addicted to – I overate them regularly, sometimes to the point of feeling ill. Yet I kept coming back for more.

And now, presenting the top five foods (in no particular order) that paved the way to obesity for me:

McDonald’s french fries – “McDonald’s cheeseburger” may have been one of my first phrases as a toddler(it’s true), but it’s the fries that keep me coming back. As a teen, I was too lazy to walk one block home from school, but if my mom had the car I’d gladly walk the half mile to McDonald’s for my fry fix.

Even now I steal them from my children’s Happy Meals, rationalizing my theft with the comfort that they’re eating fewer calories if I take some away from them. I refuse to give them up, but I now limit myself to a small on most occasions. If ever there was a support group needed for a food addiction, it would be for these fries.

Cookie dough – Long before anyone thought of adding chocolate chip cookie dough to ice cream, I was shoving spoonfuls of it in my mouth when my mom had her back turned putting another cookie sheet into the oven. I’d take my finger and scrape every last possible trace of the dough out of the bowl, too, savoring each sweet bite.

When they recently came out with the tubs of pre-made dough, I had to force myself to stop buying them after eating 1/4 of the tub before it even had a chance to make it to the oven. Salmonella be damned – the dough is so much better than the cookies!

Doritos – Many a night would end with my fingers stained orange from the nacho-cheesy-goodness of Doritos. My mom always bought the value sized bag, which usually equalled 2-3 servings for me. I could easily go through half a bag in one sitting, generally followed by a stomach ache.

It’s probably the post-feeding-frenzy stomachache that saved my life. While I will occasionally snack on Doritos now, it’s only in small amounts and the artificial cheese flavor quickly brings back those bad feelings. I refuse to end my days on this planet face down in a cloud of nacho cheese dust.

Fla-vor-Ice – Any child of the 80’s remembers these artificially colored and flavored treats. Freeze and eat popsicles, right? Or if you’re impatient like me, puncture and drink proto-popsicles. Yes, I shot them one tube at a time. We’d buy these in 100-packs and I’d sneak into the kitchen and drink 8-12 of them in under 30 minutes. Nothing like a concentrated sugar rush to keep a kid bouncing off the walls!

Sure, they claimed to have real fruit juice, but I have yet to find the fruit that tasted like any of these brightly-colored ice pops. I confess that I still have a fondness for Flavorice, but I generally avoid them since I’m sure I’ve reached my lifetime limit on artificial coloring.

SDS Subs – In my small college town, there is a pizza and sub shop that has some of the best subs around, delivers to your door, and runs a sub special every Tuesday night. When I was in college, Tuesday night was sub night. OK, sub and a single order of garlic bread night. And maybe Saturday night, too, if I didn’t have any plans. You get the point. I ate A LOT of those greasy, mayo and Italian dressing covered subs.

It became such a bad habit that my roommate and I started saving all of our sub boxes (cleaned out, of course), until we had a tower of floor-to-ceiling boxes in the kitchen. I’m not being figurative here – it was a tower, with boxes stacked from the floor all the way to the last inch of the space of the 8 foot ceiling. We even started a second tower on the other side of the trash can, too. I look back at the photos now and feel queasy at seeing the outrageous number of calories I consumed in such a short time, yet I know if there was an SDS box sitting in front of me, I’d open it and eat every bite of that sub.

So those are my worst offenders. What about you? Which foods did you lovingly walk hand-in-hand down the road to weight gain with, or which ones do you feel could knock you off track if given the chance?



Not The Kind Of Dreams I Want

I came home from work yesterday morning to find a small swarm of ants had invaded our kitchen floor, conquering the chunk of bread crust they had found. As I wiped out the enemy forces, I made a mental note to give the kitchen floor a good scrub down as soon as possible to dissuade the little trespassers from coming back.

As I drifted off to sleep, I continued to worry about the ants coming back and how I needed to clean the floor soon.

Next thing I know, it’s late afternoon. I looked at the floor and decided that I had time to get it done before the rest of the family got home. I grabbed a bucket with soapy water, pulled out a sponge, and got to work cleaning the floor on my hands and knees. It felt like it took forever, but every nook and corner were cleaned and I felt satisfied that the ants would have to look elsewhere for any food.

And then I woke up.

I dreamed the entire thing.

Coming downstairs, I walked past the kitchen and thought, no way am I cleaning that floor. I’m already exhausted from scrubbing it in my dream!

If only I could have been sleepwalking (sleepcleaning?) while dreaming it.



Zoo Lessons

(I posted a similar conversation with Mira on Facebook, but this needs to be recorded for posterity. Or when I need to embarrass her as a teen.)

Me: So Mira, what do the elephants eat?
Mira: Peanuts!

Me: And what do monkeys eat?
Mira: Monkeys eat bananas, of course!

Me: And what do the manatees eat?
Mira: Mermaids!
Me: WHAT? Manatees don’t eat mermaids! They eat lettuce!
Mira: Well, I’ve never seen them eat lettuce.

Me: OK…uh…so what do butterflies eat?
Mira: Nectar!

Me: That’s right! And what do polar bears eat?
Mira: Polar bears eat fish! Yum, yum, yum!

Me: What about brown bears? Do they eat fish, too?
Mira: Noooooo, that’s silly. Bears eat humans!
Me: Mira, bears do not eat humans.
Mira: Yes, they doooo!
Me: Bears eat fish and plants and berries…
Mira: But sometimes they eat humans too.
Me: No, they don’t!
Mira: Well, I saw bears eating humans at the zoo.
Me: There’s no way you saw that, Mira.
Mira: That’s what I saw.

Me: [sigh] Fine, so what do zombies eat?
Mira: BRAINS!

I’ve gotta get this kid signed up for a Zoo Camp. She’s learned a lot about animals, but I think the bears and manatees are getting a bad reputation. (I mean, I know bears CAN eat people, but I’m pretty sure they’re not feeding humans to the bears at the zoo.)

 Go on, just TRY to convince her they don’t feed humans to the bears at the zoo.


Guest Post At Diets In Review

Not to brag or anything, but I’ve got a guest post up over at Diets in Review this week discussing the dreaded plateau and how to get past it.

And considering my history with plateaus, you know I’ve got some real-life, practical advice to share.

(I also love the image they selected to go with my post. They could have also used an image of a scale being thrown through a window. I’d have even volunteered to pose for that one.)



Looking In The Mirror

When I weighed 40+ pounds more than I do now, fashion usually meant disguising my body to hide all of the lumps and bumps. I didn’t like how I looked and so I never put a lot of thought into what I wore, other than does this hide as much as possible? Loose clothing, baggy t-shirts, stretch denim – the less skin visible, the better.

Now that I’m within 10 pounds of the “normal” BMI range (wow, does THAT feel weird to say!), I’m trying to re-evaluate what I wear. I know I need to dress better, in both home and work settings.

When I come to work during the day for meetings, I’m expected to wear business wear. I see my peers dressed in beautiful tops and either fitted pants or skirts, and I envy them for looking so good. I have yet to purchase a button-down top because I worry that when I sit down the buttons will bulge from my belly sticking out. And skirts are completely a no-go – I can’t imagine letting my coworkers see my bare tree-trunk legs.

Here’s the real problem: I still have a disconnect between my eyes and my brain. I look in the mirror and all I see is fat. A lifetime of criticism from those close to me has left me incapable of seeing myself as anything other than a fat girl. I keep telling myself that it’s not so bad and I used to be so much heavier, but my brain still interprets it as jiggly upper arms, big belly and thunder thighs.

I still feel my 5th grade teacher poking my belly and saying I’d better have a growth spurt soon with a belly that big. I still remember kids teasing me for my large thighs at the 8th grade pool party. I remember a family member telling me I should focus on losing weight rather than going to grad school, as losing weight was more likely to help me find a spouse someday.

I’m haunted by even darker moments from earlier in childhood, moments that remain buried deep in my memory, but I now realize were likely contributors to my desire to hide myself from the world with a layer of fat.

I’m working against a lifetime of psychological abuse. I’ve distanced myself from the worst offenders, but it was too late – my subconscious adopted the worst of their weapons and wages war on my psyche daily. I didn’t get fat because I lost track of how many doughnuts I was eating – I mean, I DO love food, but food addiction alone can’t explain why I’m unable to visualize myself at a healthy weight.

But progress comes in small doses, and I’ve already shown a lot of progress to lose nearly 50 pounds in a few years. The internal sabotage clearly isn’t as strong as it used to be, and while I may never be able to completely silence the negative self-talk, I can work on tuning it out.

Last weekend we attended ComFest, and while there I suddenly felt the urge to buy one of the dresses I saw so many others wearing. Aaron encouraged me, and so I did buy it and wear it around the festival all day. (Although with denim capris – I didn’t have any shorts with me, and it was too short to wear without something underneath.)
I still don’t like what I see, but I’m willing to concede that it’s getting better. After all, I spent an entire day wearing a dress with my full arms and shoulders bared, no support garments underneath, and didn’t feel all that awkward.
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