*Walks in and lies down*
I'm back again today to talk about food Mr. Blog.
Now that my hormones have stopped
my metabolism seems to have
ground to a halt,
I have noticed just losing ten pounds this year
made it easier to go up and down the stairs and
jump in and out of the car.
The snag is we have a culture where food is the integral part of
every celebration.
We are also a culture of instant gratification
and over-indulgence.
So I rarely cook.
I only cook to stay married.
At fifty-three, my college nutrition book says
I should only eat a thousand calories a day to maintain good health.
I gobble up that many calories just looking
at the evening TV commercials for:
Burger King, McDonalds, Olive Garden
and not to mention the ads for frozen pizza.
So a few years ago I noticed that I had gained
five pounds for each cookbook I owned
since getting married.
So I donated most of them to Saint Vinny's.
Now I just have the Joy of Cooking
that my mom gave me when I turned eighteen
and two Weight Watchers books that I have tried to use.
I have never followed a recipe exactly in my life anyway.
The more time I spent on recipes
and in the kitchen,
the fatter I got.
Then my ankles and knees started hurting
and I huffed and puffed walking up stairs.
Thanks for letting me get that off my chest Mr. Blog.
I feel better and just have to say the same thing over and over:
Eat less, move more. Eat less, move more.
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