My friends now affectionately call this "the food blog." My roommate calls it "the blog about how I don't exercise." My boyfriend says I "just like eating." I beg to differ.
Contrary to what you might expect, I'm actually sore. Yes, sore from physical activity, and no, not from...the repeated action of bringing a spoon of chocolate souffle to my mouth.
On Saturday, I attended the first wedding I had ever been to. I'm sore from battling a vast buffet, I'll admit; however, I'm more sore from dancing to Lady Gaga with drunken bridesmaids. I was wooed by multiple glasses of champagne, moist cake and its fluffy frosting, and overplayed hip-hop tunes (as you may have already guessed, seeing as I got down to "Just Dance"). It was a lovely afternoon and evening; it even allowed me 2 hours of unintentional exercise, in the form of dancing in heels.
An event that makes me move my ass, all while offering endless food and drink? Now, that's just generous. You can invite me to your wedding (or your sibling's, or your cousin's, or your friend's) anytime.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
(Fleeting) Motivations for Change
Fear not, loyal readers; this blog isn't merely an exercise in failure. Although my guilt-ridden photos from last week suggest otherwise, I do occasionally possess glimpses of determination. They arise at opportune moments, like when I strive to finish a particularly dense journal article, or when I dive into my couch to see the Real Housewives of Orange County return from a commercial break (I don't have TiVo).
Determination stems from motivation, and in the case of Real Housewives, my motivation is to not miss a minute of Lynne's vapid contemplation or Tamra's bitch-please commentary. My motivation to get off my ass, however, is more fleeting.
As I've previously described, my motivation for past weight loss has been driven by a desire to....well, look damn good. As a 16 year-old with chunky thighs and a matching love for Arby's chicken fingers, I found myself at odds with my nearly invisible peers. Unhappy perceptions of my teenage body might be biased, I'll admit; they're likely overshadowed by more painful memories of unflattering jeans in a Kohl's fitting room, and sinking feelings of "I'm fat." Perhaps this is how I came to hate shopping.
Fitting room debacles and tears aside, I was motivated to change, albeit for the wrong reasons. Sound health was never my priority in weight loss (although I hope it one day will be); instead, I was plagued by adolescent issues of body image. Today, motivation comes from passing inspiration, like "I should be heart healthy!", "I should improve my strength!", and "I should document these efforts in a witty blog!"
But, as the old adage goes, you've got to start somewhere.
Determination stems from motivation, and in the case of Real Housewives, my motivation is to not miss a minute of Lynne's vapid contemplation or Tamra's bitch-please commentary. My motivation to get off my ass, however, is more fleeting.
As I've previously described, my motivation for past weight loss has been driven by a desire to....well, look damn good. As a 16 year-old with chunky thighs and a matching love for Arby's chicken fingers, I found myself at odds with my nearly invisible peers. Unhappy perceptions of my teenage body might be biased, I'll admit; they're likely overshadowed by more painful memories of unflattering jeans in a Kohl's fitting room, and sinking feelings of "I'm fat." Perhaps this is how I came to hate shopping.
Fitting room debacles and tears aside, I was motivated to change, albeit for the wrong reasons. Sound health was never my priority in weight loss (although I hope it one day will be); instead, I was plagued by adolescent issues of body image. Today, motivation comes from passing inspiration, like "I should be heart healthy!", "I should improve my strength!", and "I should document these efforts in a witty blog!"
But, as the old adage goes, you've got to start somewhere.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Most People Have a Cheat Day; I Have a Cheat Weekend
After contemplating barriers to behavior change, I harnessed last week's inspiration and made strides towards healthy eating and physical activity. Rather than berate myself on the days I didn't exercise, I made small changes like taking the stairs and skipping ice cream (both of which were incredibly painful, let me tell you). As a result, I felt sexy and light on my feet. I lose (but moreso, gain) weight very easily, so when I'm on my A-game, I (feel like I) could model on Project Runway. Emphasis on the parenthetical expressions.
My self-proclaimed buoyancy carried me to Friday, at which point I was seduced by silky French cuisine and the whispers of red wine. Refuse? Now, that would be terribly rude.
Unfortunately, I carried this philosophy to every meal, and bid adieu to self-control. She went out the window happily, leaving me to my own devices. With many a great menu in front of me, I dined on dim sum, Hawaiian fusion, everyone's dessert, and bottomless drinks. And, being the eternal tourist, I watched as my roommate took plenty of photos along the way. Although I'm slightly dismayed by my cheat weekend and the lead-like feeling I now have in my gut (wholly accompanied by a considerably empty wallet), I can say without the slightest hesitation that it was a damn good time.
Photos, above, clockwise from left: chicken and creamed spinach stuffed in puff pastry, with potatoes au gratin; honey-glazed shrimp with walnuts; soy-glazed salmon fillet, with tempura vegetables and sesame rice; the ever-holy warm chocolate souffle with vanilla ice cream and raspberry sauce; credits to Kimberly Tu
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Barriers to Change
Seeing as I have yet to reach my 4-a-week mark (which is, of course, my own version of the equally unattainable 5-a-day), I've decided that this is an apt time in which to discuss barriers to change. There are many.
The barriers I've identified for myself mostly end in -ation. While time and energy are perennial issues, I find myself most prone to a lack of motivation, prioritization, and routinization. The latter two are real words, apparently; I had to use them, despite the fact that they're both unattractive and cumbersome.
Motivation eludes me often, especially on days that are rainy, cloudy, or feature reruns of Law and Order: SVU. While I want to fit into the sparkling, slim-fitting gowns that Taylor Swift so delicately wears, it doesn't seem very realistic. In the past, my steps towards healthy eating and physical activity haven't necessarily been driven by an interest in sound health; rather, they have been driven by an interest in "not being fat" and "fitting into my prom dress." Perhaps this is why my efforts haven't been particularly sustainable. Once I made it past prom, or graduation, or simply got sick of chocolate chip cookie deprivation (never a good thing), I relapsed into my old ways. In order to sustain my motivation, I need to approach healthy eating and physical activity from a perspective that now appears obvious: the pursuit of health.
As a result of fleeting motivation, I haven't made healthy eating and physical activity priorities. Until recently, they fell somewhere between "wash car" and"reorganize closet," which weren't terribly high on my list to begin with. Until running (or something) regains a rightful and permanent place in my top ten list, maintenance of change remains nearly impossible.
Because my efforts in behavior change haven't been a priority, it's difficult to make them routine. I recently discussed this concept with my friend Sameer, whose physical fitness I find incredible. Aside from his enviable physique, his sheer determination and strikingly positive attitude are both admirable and inspirational. While I don't plan to incorporate whey protein into my diet or bench 225 pounds (because I could, obviously), I hope to develop a stronger sense of resolve and self-efficacy. Sameer mentioned that physical fitness as a routine has often kept him going; if I develop a routine of physical activity, it will likely be hard to break.
As Thoreau so poignantly said, "things do not change; people change." These -ations seem like an ideal place to start. In the meantime, you can find me stumbling from exhaustion outside, sporting my new water bottle:
The barriers I've identified for myself mostly end in -ation. While time and energy are perennial issues, I find myself most prone to a lack of motivation, prioritization, and routinization. The latter two are real words, apparently; I had to use them, despite the fact that they're both unattractive and cumbersome.
Motivation eludes me often, especially on days that are rainy, cloudy, or feature reruns of Law and Order: SVU. While I want to fit into the sparkling, slim-fitting gowns that Taylor Swift so delicately wears, it doesn't seem very realistic. In the past, my steps towards healthy eating and physical activity haven't necessarily been driven by an interest in sound health; rather, they have been driven by an interest in "not being fat" and "fitting into my prom dress." Perhaps this is why my efforts haven't been particularly sustainable. Once I made it past prom, or graduation, or simply got sick of chocolate chip cookie deprivation (never a good thing), I relapsed into my old ways. In order to sustain my motivation, I need to approach healthy eating and physical activity from a perspective that now appears obvious: the pursuit of health.
As a result of fleeting motivation, I haven't made healthy eating and physical activity priorities. Until recently, they fell somewhere between "wash car" and"reorganize closet," which weren't terribly high on my list to begin with. Until running (or something) regains a rightful and permanent place in my top ten list, maintenance of change remains nearly impossible.
Because my efforts in behavior change haven't been a priority, it's difficult to make them routine. I recently discussed this concept with my friend Sameer, whose physical fitness I find incredible. Aside from his enviable physique, his sheer determination and strikingly positive attitude are both admirable and inspirational. While I don't plan to incorporate whey protein into my diet or bench 225 pounds (because I could, obviously), I hope to develop a stronger sense of resolve and self-efficacy. Sameer mentioned that physical fitness as a routine has often kept him going; if I develop a routine of physical activity, it will likely be hard to break.
As Thoreau so poignantly said, "things do not change; people change." These -ations seem like an ideal place to start. In the meantime, you can find me stumbling from exhaustion outside, sporting my new water bottle:
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