Eating my word

Hokie dokie, so its been over a month since my last post and honestly, I thought there would never be any other. See, I have this little issue called discipline, self-discipline that is, and that is to say, i don't have it, hence the issue.

The first week that i went on my half-rice quest was the hungriest week EVER of my year. It was also the busiest of the month as my boss came down from India and commenced to, as bosses are wont to do and for no apparent reason, breathe down my neck non-stop for three weeks.

As I have the strong propensity to eat when under fire, the cravings began to set in. Oooh little things like the Nestle drumstick (why do they call it a drumstick?), double cappuccinos, Cream-O Premiums (redundancy of chocolate), Royal Tru-Orange, yummy cheesecake and the occasional burger, pizza and beer because I thought I deserved it. It wasn't as bad at first because at least i was still running but frustration went on an all time high when, after that first week of neglect, i stepped on the scales and it showed that I had gained 1.6 lbs. My brain went on the metaphysical equivalent of spinning around the room. 1.6 pounds, really? I had gained. 1.1 lbs more than i intended to lose that first week. I was now 145.1 lbs. Nnnnnooooooooo!

What happened next was inevitable...i went shopping. Zipzip went my credit card (and my husbands--so sorry, John) and splat went my self-esteem. all throughout the weeks that followed I saw both my expense account and my weight slowly (but oh so surely) go in the red. Rice, cups of it, pots and pans of it, was again back on the menu, so was pasta (lotsa lotsa pasta) and the unavoidable ooey-gooey new york cheesecake that i worship.

Grace finally came in two bouts. One, I had not seemed to lose my interest in running. Quite the opposite actually; it was further intensified after having almost literally run into Cattski, an old friend, in I.T. Park and whom I have been running regularly with since. The unwavering interest in running had slowly been fanned to a passion by my just as unwavering best friend Haide's support and encouragement. In the month of July, I had finished two marathons operating mostly on inspiration and friendship.

The second boon came in the person of Xenia Marti, a petite, soft-spoken, elegantly-mannered lady who power lifts on her free time. It might have been on one of our coffee breaks or late night "lunches" when, probably tired of hearing my incessant complaints on how my weight is still the same despite my hardships and sacrifice, XMarti calmly remarked that although my weight has stayed the same my body has not. Then she proceeded to reintroduce me to the concept of fat turning to muscle. Aaaaahhhh Eureka! Of course! It was like a perforated sky had opened up before me. And just like that, i pushed away the remainder of the meal that i had managed not to wolf down and said, check please!

Truth be told, i have not been asking for half cups of rice to go with my meals. Truth be told, i have not been measuring at all. My philosophy, if i ever had one, is to eat when I'm hungry. But with the addition of one word, my total outlook towards food (and yes, yes life too) has been somewhat altered. That word is moderation.

Moderation. I have decided that this small, humble word will be my word for the rest of the year--the word out on my street. My wish word and word of discipline. Moderation will be my appetizer, entree and dessert and yes, my beloved brunch. I figure, with moderation, i can have anything I want out of life, love and all of this good earths gastronomic delights only in less embarrassing proportions.