Sunday, April 09, 2006

Food ...

A word on what it's like to consume an actual food-type product after 10 days of cleansing: Soup.

I know my way around a kitchen well enough, and I turn out some pretty tasty treats from time to time, but Friday's soup was borderline spectacular. I believe its near-spectacularness stemmed from the fact that the soup contained neither lemon juice nor maple syrup nor cayenne pepper. And it felt really, really good to cook something, to dice celery, to slice carrots, to peel potatoes.

So I made my veggie soup on the fly (the recipe in the little yellow book is pretty vague: no amounts, no cooking time, just cook it 'til it's cooked seems to be what Stanley was going for) and then I pureed some of it in my oh-so-spiffy blender that I hardly ever use, a fab birthday gift from Tracy one year, too many years ago. (Where *does* the time go?)

And I poured some into a bowl, and I got out a spoon, and it was so damn exciting to eat something with a spoon, I can't even tell you. Well, I guess I can, because I just did. But, oh boy. Soup.

The cool thing, though, is that it was really good. Not just I-haven't-eaten-for-10-days good, but like I-could-make-this-again-and-maybe-even-serve-it-to-friends good.

Soup. It's a wonder food.

So that was Friday afternoon and evening. And my system wasn't all together happy to meet my soup, but I got through it. And Saturday was better. I had some cantaloupe and some yogurt and some mashed potatoes.

And today, I had a combination of the pureed soup and the chunky vegetable, non-pureed soup and more yogurt (saving the pink lids) and met Chris for a cup of coffee which seemed to sit OK and then more mashed taters and some mac and cheese for dinner.

I went for a walk and talked with L.A. Dave and the conversation wound its way around to Twinkies. Oh my. When's the last time I had a Twinkie? I can't imagine. Not in my 30s. In my 20s? Maybe. In any event, it's been a long time. I was just about home when we drifted into Twinkie talk, so when I got to my house, I opened the door, grabbed some cash, and continued walking to the grocery store.

That's my compromise when I want a piece of junk food: I have to walk to the store and back to get it. I figure I burn off about as many calories as the treat that way, so there's little or no net gain.

So I walked and talked and got to the store and looked at the label on the Twinkies and reported to L.A. Dave that there was no way I'd be eating a Twinkie. (Though I also looked at the cupcakes and Ho-Hos and discovered that a single serving of Ho-Ho is 3 Ho-Hos. Finally, someone sane drafting a food label, cuz really, who the hell eats one Ho-Ho?) And I walked out of the store empty-handed.

L.A. Dave booed me. But I was having none of that.

"I just finished a 10-day cleanse on Friday," I said. "And it's Sunday night and I'm already willing to eat crap again? You should be supporting me, not booing me."

But it's like I wrote about in a previous post: Some people don't want you to be good, because that makes them think they should be good, too.

This isn't a slam against L.A. Dave. He's been very supportive, not just over the past couple weeks, but always. It's just one more obstacle on the road to being healthy: people who want to make excuses for you to eat things you know you shouldn't.

Which isn't to say I'll never have something so-bad-it's-good again. I know I will. But I can also say no. Especially this soon after everything I went through.

Old habits die hard. But I'm crediting the cleanse with tonight's display of willpower. Under other circumstances, I might have thrown reason to the wind and wolfed down the snack cake. But toward what end? Ten seconds of pseudo-enjoyment with a liberal side of guilt?

No thanks. I'll save the calories for something I really, really want.

Like the warm apple cobbler with vanilla ice cream at Houston's. Which is now closed.

Safe for another day.

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