Oddly enough, this summer all I wanted to do was bake. Odd because it was a really hot summer. And we lived on the top floor. And we had no air conditioning. The convergence of these conditions led to our apartment being hotter than 100 degrees on more than one occasion. Thank heaven for box fans and otter pops. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from firing up the oven to bake up some cookies or brownies or cake or whatever. And then I couldn’t stop myself from eating the baked goodness. Especially during August when the move was upon us and I worried about what Micah would think of the apartment, and would we have enough people to help us load and unload the truck and would the painting be done on time (that worry didn’t last too long). Before I knew it, I’d gotten in the habit of reaching for a cookie when I didn’t want one, and doing other things that I hadn’t done in ages (if ever), like eat balls of frozen cookie dough straight from the freezer. (Abby, I blame you.)
What happened to the person who could go days without sweets? Who could talk herself out of eating a cookie with a celery stick? No matter how earnestly I told myself I was not hungry, it was only a matter of minutes before I would cave into myself and just “get it over with.” It was like running, only opposite. I used to spend all day trying to talk myself into a run, thinking about how good it would feel, how it doesn’t take that long, how it was worth it to change my clothes and put on some shoes. With sweets I spend the time telling myself how awful I’ll feel, how it would be better to save it for later, how it wasn’t worth the fleeting taste. And just as giving into the urge to run made it easier to go out the next time, giving in to the urge to eat made it easier to do the next time as well. My self-control has atrophied and I’m ready to get it back in shape.
So, what’s the plan? I don’t really know. Part of me wants to do a complete sugar-fast for a few weeks, not only to prove to myself that I don’t need the sugar (in a “Take THAT!” kind of way), but also to see if has any effect on my complexion. (My skin hasn’t gotten the memo that I’m no longer 15 years old.) The other part of me says, “There’s nothing wrong with a cookie now and then. Moderation in all things. Maybe if I just limit myself to ______.” But I don’t really know where to draw the line. In college a friend and I had a no-cookie contest to see who could go the longest without a cookie (all other sweets were fair game), so I could do something like that. (No chocolate, no candy, no ice cream, etc.) Or I could go the Michael Pollan route and say I’ll only eat sweets on days that start with S. Or I could say I’m just going to get back to “normal,” which is basically Micah and I having dessert two or three times a week.
Any other ideas? Does anybody want to join me? I’ll let you know what I decide on once I get some feedback.