The Last Supper

I'm an emotional eater. There....I said it! I eat because my feelings tell me to eat. My stomach has expanded beyond normal capacity & has become a couch potato within the cave of my belly. I think it all started a few years back. A previous bad relationship, a health scare, a few disappointments & heartbreaks later, I'm 20 lbs. over the weight that accentuated the curves & an "all-naturale" apple bottom that made men drool. Clothes looked great on me...now, they wear me. They hide the flab and the stretched skin that disappoints me every time I undress. NO, I'm not a "Biggest Loser" candidate, but I'm not the Winner either!

Don't knock me for being honest. I think this is the first step that we should all take when dieting. We should admit to ourselves and be honest about how we came to this state of eating for a sport. Trying day after day to break our own world-records. I remember once upon a time ago, I rarely thought about eating. It was something that happened a couple of times a day unnoticed. If I missed a meal, I wasn't sweating from my brows and biting my fingernails. Now, I need to miss a meal! But then I discover, "You have to eat." "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" Huh? Back in undergrad, breakfast was a luxury. And if it was consumed, it was probably a few M & Ms on the way to class or a bowl of Oodles & Noodles at lunch time!

I'm not mad at food for getting me through some tough moments. There were times when I was super-depressed and I'd see a buttered roll, a juicy hamburger, Mickey D's fries hot & fresh out the grease with just the right amount of salt, a large Papa John's pizza, a bowl of never-ending pasta and chicken-alfredo, a yellow cake with that sweet, chocolate icing, IHOP pancakes and bacon, an ice cream sundae, my mother's famed sausage, bacon, egg & cheese casserole...When I bit into whatever the FDA would certainly not approve, all of my problems went away for the course of the meal. Epiphany: something that I felt at the moment took me away from my problem, created another problem that has caused me more emotional stress & physical handicap.

A couple of days ago, I took the first step. Instead of spending money on one of those places that watch the weight bounce around, I took advantage of my Rolodex and called upon a friend. He's a personal trainer whose clientele ranges from celebrity to regular folks. After a few of his finger-pointing lectures and challenging my thought pattern concerning weight loss, I'm convinced that I can no longer allow food to shame my body. I slowly realized that food is a fuel that our body needs for energy. When we consume too much food, our body stores all of that unnecessary food and it turns into fat. If we're not working out, that food storage is turning into an over-crowded fat house and the next thing you know, we're sending an APB out on our waist line! Food is only an energy source, not an emotional therapist. As we start to create new weight loss goals, we should diet and establish a workout regime. I'm still learning how to feel happy about going to the gym!

The other night, I had my farewell dinner. I said goodbye, for now, to many foods that tricked me into thinking that they were there to make me feel better. (Even food can be playa'.) I've replaced those foods with ones that are not too lively on the taste buds, but have impressed the waist line. I'm seeing a difference as we speak, and I'm hoping that by the summer time....there will be a new & improved 2008 dime! : )