A small, huge shift

Turkey soft tacos with fresh veggies, grilled veggies, Mexican rice, fresh tomatoes, guac, and grilled tortillas

My family went to a restaurant four times a year.  We went to Ponderosa in January, March, April, and June to celebrate birthdays for Hallie, Kelly, Kenny, and me.  My mother would supplement these extravagant “nights out” with McDonald’s once or twice a year.  Typically, these were to use up coupons we received as a Christmas gift from my Aunt Nell.  We weren’t poor.  We weren’t rich, by any means.  That’s how things were.  My mother did as many did in the 70’s and 80’s.  We ate casseroles, greenish waxed beans, and a steady dose of other “canned” foods.  Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches sufficed often.  So, what happened?

The best answer I can give is, I don’t know.  Food sources multiplied.  Chemical food additives were invented, and I became a victim of convenience.  When did this happened, I don’t know.  It just did.  Eventually, I got married and had kids.  My wife and I both worked, and life kept getting in the way.  Food sources quickly became even easier.  I continued to be the food industry’s favorite target.  Not just me, per se, but everyone like me.  I’ve been a pawn for a long time with the inability to move strategically on the chess board of food.  Am I food addict?  Yes.  Is it too late?  I hope not.

I’ve tried every diet.  It’s true.  Every.  Single.  Fucking.  Diet.  My doctor even prescribed me phentermine which lasted about five minutes.  It’s been described (okay, by me) as legal cocaine without any of the fun.  There is a drug on the market called Ozempic.  It was originally used to treat diabetes but has been found to be the most significant weight-loss measure, perhaps ever.  There are two major issues with this drug.  It can cause pancreatitis, which I once had.  The other major issue.  No drug can reverse the hole in my soul that food cures. 

breakfast: Greek Yogurt, blue berries, honey
Lunch: Spinach salad, chicken, veggies, Keto salad dressing

Life is about action and inaction.  It’s as simple as that.  I will even get more granular.  It’s about action only!  Inaction is an action and my modus operandi.  I succumb to quick and easy.  Insta everything.  Instacart.  Door Dash.  Uber Eats.  Shit, even my pics are easier on Instagram.  I do everything but instant coffee.  I did have some Israeli Taster’s Choice by necessity in Jerusalem one morning.  It’s become simpler to buy grocery food then order out when I get home from work.  It’s illogical and yet, what I do.  Here are the results:  Severe morbid obesity, chronic knee pain, high bad cholesterol, hypertension, anxiety, and so many more physical ailments.  The social and family issues this causes are immeasurable.  I must inspect a restaurant’s chairs so I can be comfortable.  Finding close parking or valet parking is a must.  I’m only forty fucking nine and feel 100.

Chicken Thighs, veggies, rice pilaf

So, here is the first step I am taking.  This work week, every meal is being prepared by me.  All breakfasts, lunches, and dinners until Friday night.  I will be the person who controls my ingredients.  The urge to order in after a long day, is going to be curbed.  I may even white board a weekly menu eventually.  I need wins, and this means something different to everyone.  Stopping at McDonald’s daily to get an egg sandwich is Ludacris.  I have no chance of being successful without making food.  There are two circles in my life:  Healthy and Vicious.  Vicious has been winning far too long.  This ACTION is manageable.  Some of you cannot fathom the difficulty of making food.  It seems so simple.  I hope it becomes that way for me.  More to come.

2 responses to “A small, huge shift”

  1. Rooting for you! That’s really great to hear. Do you have someone to be accountable to?

    Rachel Katz Jewelry http://www.rachelkatzjewelry.com http://www.rachelkatzjewelry.com/ p | 310.403.1977 e | rk@rachelkatzjewelry.com

    Follow us on Instagram @rachelkatzjewelry http://instagram.com/rachelkatzjewelry



    1. I do. It’s a matter of me doing that work


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