A clean bite
Jan. 15, 2011 7:45 pm
Updated: Jan. 16, 2011 8:11 am
Like so many people, the excesses of the holidays leave me bloated and sugared-out. Every year, like a preordained rendez-vous, I meet January first with the same resolve to detox and return to a more sane approach to food - an approach that does not elevate
flour, butter and sugar to food-group status.
Like most people, I start off with a bang. January first, no coffee - green tea, today. Looking good so far. Breakfast? Who needs that? Knowing the day of reckoning was coming, I ate enough last night that a full 10 hours later, I am still full! This is going
to be easy, I think. I am excited by the healthy, happy, 2011, me! Then lunch...a salad, of course. My simple resolution was to make that other "green" commitment - one salad a day, everyday...more tea and lots of water. After all, this is a detox. 3:00...the
time of day when chocolate really satisfies...more tea, more water...an apple. Dinner...A steak, some fantastic potato and cheese concoction, sauteed brussel sprouts with parmesan cheese...of course dessert. The hell with the tea, pass the Shiraz!
Okay, maybe it didn't go down quite that quickly, but it sure felt that way. Don't get me wrong. I am not one to back away from a treadmill. After all, my moniker is "fitmommy". My gym membership card gets swiped so much that it's lost its barcode, and nothing
pleases me more than leaving that punk frat boy in my spin dust. But the nasty truth is, that no matter how hard you train, how long you run and how limber your down dogs, all of that will never cancel out an entire season of indulgence and carelessness.
So even the fittest person, has to work out in the kitchen.
Admittedly, being a self-described foodie and a bonafide gym rat can, at times, be conflicting. I have developed scores of strategies in my attempt to bridge this divide. I have had subscriptions and read cover-to-cover every health and fitness magazine. I
devour every worthwhile book on nutrition and even a a few that weren't (I literally threw my copy of "skinny bitch" in the trash at Newark airport making sure I tore it up first. I didn't want any other unwitting female to pick it up and think it was even
remotely worth their time or effort).
The funny thing is, these well-read publications end up on my coffee table under "bon apetit."
Every now and again, though, something clicks... something works. I decided this evening, with the memory of January first, no longer in my rear-view mirror, to try something new. I made a lovely dinner - as usual, tweaking my plate, so that it was a bit healthier
than the plates than my husband and children would accept. I poured my glass of well-paired oaky chardonnay... filled a tall glass of water and sat down. One bite...one, small bite...put my fork down. Taste the wine... delicious....sip of water...cleaned my
palate. Picked up my fork and began the pattern all over again. This continued for 12 minutes. One slow, thoughtful, clean bite at a time. My children had inhaled their meals - more interested in the gelato we had prepared for the ice cream maker and were
already cleaning their places. Five minutes pass...I'm still tasting my meal. My husband finishes and cleans up the dishes - what a guy:). I'm still sipping my wine... A full 35 minutes pass, and I have at least forty percent of my plate still covered with
food. Here is the revelation - I'm full!! Not completely, but mostly. It was a wonderful meal, but I am finished. As Gru says in "Despicable Me", "Lightbulb!" I really don't need those magazines or the guilt. I just need to remember the joy that is a good
meal, a wonderful glass of wine and the smiles of my happily fed family. Of course, AFTER spin class.
