Saturday, July 2, 2011

The End? Not a chance!

I’ve long been a fan of irony. Years ago I wrote an article about a competition sponsored by a local television company. I opened by disclosing that TV-viewing across BC had dropped as almost 800 people worked on their screenplays in the evening instead of turning on the tube.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of ironic?” the editor asked when I handed in the story. “Since the contest is being run by a TV station?”

Well yeah. I love it!

When I began this experiment, I wanted to lose weight without deprivation, to eat and drink whatever I pleased. Then I wanted to keep the weight off without thinking about it, eating and drinking…that’s right, whatever I wanted.

I’m willing to exercise, heaven knows. With a history of full-blown osteoporosis by the time I reached 40, I’ve known for more than ten years that dumbbells and I will be going steady for the rest of my life if I want to avoid broken hips, bedrest, and boredom.

I’ve also experienced the ephemeral joys of an endorphin rush, triggered by strenuous exercise and hilltop views.

So me and exercise…we’re tight.

But back to deprivation. Not interested. Even now that I’ve lost 30 pounds and know exactly how good it feels to walk lightly up stairs, truffle comfortably to the park, and even keep Miss Jean in high(ish) gear all the way to the top of a hill.

Feeling great, healthy and strong haven’t sapped my desire for a day-polishing glass of red, a soul-satisfying dinner (as well as breakfast, lunch and snacks).

I still don’t want to give up anything. I want what I want. Period.

And the weirdest thing of all is that I get it. Since Week One, when I went cold turkey on potatoes and pasta, I haven’t missed them. I keep a loaf of bread in the freezer and I take out a slice or two, toast it, and smear on the peanut butter whenever I want.

What’s new is that usually I only want it once a week or so. Sometimes less. The same loaf has been in the freezer for two weeks now and it’s only half gone.

And seriously, I don’t feel deprived. I don’t have to talk myself out of having a sandwich.

So I’ve achieved my goal of eating and drinking whatever I want. The irony is that I no longer want the same things. I reach for a Bartlett pear to accompany my Emmenthal. I’d rather drizzle a heady, herb-infused olive oil over my salad instead of ranch. And trust me, nobody finds this more strange than I do.

I was explaining my feelings to Fodder the other night and he said he’d noticed the same thing. After a lifetime of loving peanut butter, he had climbed out of his dietary crackerbox and discovered how much he adores hummus.

We raised our wineglasses in a toast. To us.


  1. Bravo, Bravo Rachel & The Fodder

    Both of you must feel so proud of yourselves.

    What an accomplishment! Congratulations for all of your focus and effort.

  2. Need some new fangled thots, ideers? Ironic, ironclad iconoclasms? Look no firdr...

    VERBUM SAT SAPIENTI: As an ex-writer of the sassy, savvy, schizophenia we all go through in this lifelong demise, I just wanna help U.S. git past the whorizontal more!ass! we're in (Latin: words to [the] wise)...

    "This finite existence is only a test, son," God Almighty told me in my coma. "Far beyond thy earthly tempest is where you'll find corpulent eloquence" (paraphrased). Lemme tella youse without d'New Joisey accent...

    I actually saw Seventh-Heaven when we died, dear: you couldn't GET any moe curly, party-hardy-endorphins, extravagantly-surplus-lush Upstairs when my beautifull, brilliant, bombastic girl passed-away due to those wry, sardonic satires.

    "Those who are wise will shine as brightly as the expanse of the Heavens, and those who have instructed many in uprightousness as bright as stars for all eternity" -Daniel 12:3

    Here's also what the prolific, exquisite GODy sed: 'the more you shall honor Me, the more I shall bless you' -the Infant Jesus of Prague.

    Go git'm, girl. You're incredible. See you Upstairs. I won't be joining'm in the nasty Abyss where Isis prowls

    PS Need some uncommon, unique, uncivilized names? Lemme gonna gitcha started, brudda:

    Oak Woods, Franky Sparks, Athena Noble, Autumn Rose, Faith Bishop, Dolly Martin, Willow Rhodes, Cocoa Major, Roman Stone, Bullwark Burnhart, Magnus Wilde, Kardiak Arrest, Will Wright, Goldy Silvers, Penelope Summers, Sophie Sharp, Violet Snow, Lizzy Roach, BoxxaRoxx, Aunty Dotey, Romero Stark, Zacharia Neptoon, Mercurio Morrissey, Fritz & Felix Franz, Victor Payne, Isabella Silverstein, Mercedes Kennedy, Redding Rust, Martini Phoenix, Ivy Wool, Sower Wolf, Yankee Cooky, b9...

    God blessa youse
    -Fr. Sarducci, ol SNL