I am trying so hard not to be "that dieting girl." You know the one. The one who orders a salad when you go out to eat together and then spends the whole time casting nasty looks at your cheeseburger and milk shake. Like it's going to get off the plate, dance across the table, and shove itself down my throat. Or, worse yet, give it looks of covetousness. I try not to be the girl who says "My god, are you really going to eat that?" . o O (Wish I could...)
Which is not to say that I don't notice.
That's the weirdest thing. I never used to care what other people ate - not even when it looked particularly good, or there was something wrong with it. These days... oh, yes. I can tell you what my friend Leslie has eaten, every. single. time. we've gone out. I know. I know how fast Toby ate his chicken two weeks ago. I know how much of the pasta got stowed into the take-home box when Carol and I went to the beach. Hell, I know what the people ordered at Thomas's business lunch in Richmond a month ago and I didn't even GO to that lunch, I just remember because Thomas told me about it later.
This lifestyle change is like having an unrequited crush on that really cute guy that hangs out with the group, but has a girlfriend back home. I'm hyper aware. I know who he talked to and did he actually put a hand on her shoulder and what color shirt he was wearing the day he smiled at me between classes. I'd recognize him from two inches of his elbow visible from outside the door.
Being in love is wonderful, and yet, at the same time, it's agonizing. Especially when the object of your affection is completely unaware. And worse, if he was aware... well, then you have to deal with the social weirdness of being ignored by - but pretending you're not being ignored by, or that you don't care that you're being ignored by - someone in your social circle.
I'm aware of food smells. Everywhere I go. I can smell the Buffalo Hot Wings when we shop at the Target. The bookstore is filled with the sweet, warm aroma of coffee and various sticky rolls. Driving to the mall the other day took us right past the Red Robin.
I am fervently grateful that we TiVo everything that I actually want to watch, because food commercials are like watching porn... that slow, delicate swirl of fatty ground beef and slick, melting cheese and... or money shots of ice cream, chocolate syrup dripping over delectable mounds of whipped cream with a bright red cherry peeking out...
I am more aware of people who are eating while driving their cars than I am conscious of people who are yapping on the cell phone. It's a quick flicker of the eye, but I saw that boy in the mall, licking melted ice cream off his arm. The woman in front of me at the grocery store? I tallied up how many packages of junk food she had and wondered vaguely if she ever ate a vegetable in her life.
I don't really like that I'm this hyper-aware of things. It's crazy-making.
Last night, in our Weight Watcher's meeting, we talked about 0 + 0 = 2.
Admittedly, it's a topic better left to Flex people, because it doesn't quite apply to Core.
Zero Point Foods.
If you've ever done Weight Watchers, or even known someone who's done it, you're at least passing familiar with the Zero Point foods. Baby Carrots. Sugar free jello. High fiber cereals. Fat free whipped cream. That butter spray stuff. Salad Spritzer Dressing. Salsa.
Zero point foods is where the difference between Intelligence and Wisdom becomes apparent.
The Intelligent thing to do is to take advantage of the Zero Point foods. Mix sugar free jello mix together with fat free whipped cream and eat the whole tub as a snack. Have a piece of broccoli, but saturate it with 20 butter sprays. This maximizes the food you eat, without costing you any points. And then, you can go ahead and eat the rest of your 27 points.
And be completely floored when you gain five pounds.
Two tablespoons of fat free whipped cream is Zero Points. The whole tub? About 8 points. (0 + 0)25 = 8.
Beth was twice disappointed with Thomas and I last night. Because we are Wise (In addition to being intelligent, which is, honestly, quite a lot of fun when you can fuddle someone.)
"So who uses that spray on butter?" I raise my hand.
Triumph! "And how often do you replace it?"
"About once every 3 or 4 months."
"Oh." She moves on to the girl behind me. "And you?"
"Every two weeks."
"Aha! There's 48 points in that container!"
Later in the meeting. "Let's see... a serving size of sugar free jello is 1/2 a cup. Who actually eats just half a cup of jello?"
Thomas raises his hand. "Um, we do."
Beth whirls on him. "You do?"
Thomas points to me, then to Darcy, then to himself. "One. Two. Three."
"And who gets the other serving?"
"Thomas does -" I say, watching her eyes light up again. "- for lunch. The next day."
"Wow, you guys are no fun."
Thomas smirks. "Sixty pounds lost." He points to me. "Fifty pounds lost."
Of course, I later confessed that I do have to limit myself. Even on Core, where all Core foods are free.
I can only eat 1/4 of an avocado per day. I love avocados. They're filling and creamy and tasty. I could sit down with a spoon and the salt shaker and eat an entire one in a sitting. On flex points, that's 8 points right there, in one tiny green fruit. On Core? Free! But if I eat a whole avocado in one day, I'll just eat another one tomorrow. And one the day after that. And one on Friday.
And I won't lose weight. This week, I was down another 1.4 pounds.
Of course, if I was eating 4 avocados in a week, I probably wouldn't be eying your cheeseburger, either.