Letting Go of Old Habits

It's 11 pm, and I just hung up my apron for the day. With less than 2 weeks left(!), it really feels like PCP is winding down. Today I slept till almost 11 am. I found time for some bumming around in the beautiful weather and a movie by myself. I wore leggings as pants—a totally daring move. I waved at myself in the mirror and my lower arms did not wave back at me. I went to a party and didn't eat any of the snacks, not even the delicious Brazilian pacoquita (which sort of reminds me of halvah.) This past Thanksgiving was the first in recent history where I did not feel like someone should roll me to our annual post-feast movie. I even bought myself a pb&j chocolate bar and a slurtle—beer caramel, potato chip, and chocolate—from Liddabit Sweets to celebrate with after Day 90. And I wondered about whether I would jump rope the day I eat them.

The hardest part of this past two and a half months has been reframing the way I think about food. Nutrition aside, having what, how much, and essentially when I eat dictated to me has given me new perspective on how I use food—for comfort, for space, and sometimes even as a weapon against my own body. I started baking when I was twelve. I never stole a taste while I cooked. That summer, I would eat half a bagel with apple butter every day, whatever my mom (or I) made for dinner, and beg one of my parents to take me to the track so I could roller blade three or four miles . . . more, if I had eaten any of what I had baked. Once, someone gave me a candy bar—5th Avenue, my favorite—and I made it last for nearly a week, cutting off a small piece every day. I lost twenty pounds, to much fanfare from my family. The need to control what I eat has followed me since—that cycle of guilt and withholding, rebellion and shame. The obsessive, helpless need to exercise.

Yet, today, more than sixteen years later, I am in the best shape of my life. I eat enough to feed a small vegetarian army, and I exercise less than an hour a day. I was a little worried about falling into old habits when I found out we had to weigh our food, but as much as PCP appears to be about control, it has liberated me. Being fit isn't about eating less and exercising more. It's about what you eat and how you exercise. But if I had to trade in the iron guns and the perky buns, this program is worth all the sweat, sore muscles, and peanut butter cravings because it has given me a time out. For two and a half months, I have ceded control of my eating habits to someone else, and I didn't explode. I found new ways to deal with stress. And I realized that the food on my plate is not my enemy. It is simply a choice to feel good—or to feel bad, depending on what I eat. But I make every decision knowing full well the consequences. Which is a whole lot better than being afraid of what will happen if I just let go. . . .

Intermission

Well . . . the family is gone. You know, I used to think PCP was intense, but I don't think anything tops several days of family time, especially when combined with a holiday. I still don't know how those of you out there with kids do it. My visitors were in the mid-50-to-60-year-old range, and they wore me out!

I'm feeling a little burned out on routines, but now that I've finished the day's strength exercises and eaten some lunch, I wanted to pop in and share this episode of Gourmet's Diary of a Foodie. Denise touched on supporting local producers in one of her posts, which is also something we are big on doing at my house. I especially enjoyed the last half of the episode because it focuses on Hardwick, Vermont—a small town that has created a sustainable food infrastructure.

And while you guys watch that, I'm going to go take a nap. . . .

Things I'm Going to Eat When This is All Over

In no particular order . . .

Doughnut Plant

http://www.doughnutplant.com/

Being that I'm from North Carolina, I'm a doughnut purist. Meaning I believe that Krispy Kreme is the one true doughnut. But since it's only acceptable to eat a Krispy Kreme from the store itself, and, um, all the NYC locations have closed down, I'm willing to go gourmet. I mean, Doughnut Plant even has a peanut butter and jelly doughnut.

Which brings me to . . .

A Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich

Toasted spelt bread, crunchy pb . . . hmmm . . . raspberry preserves? Tough call.

Reese's Christmas Tree

Sweet Potato French Fries




Slightly crispy with some sort of silly, yummy dipping sauce . . . or maybe a side of sweet, delicious ketchup

An Ever-So-Tiny, Slightly Spicy European-Style Aztec Hot Chocolate From the Cacao Bar at Mariebelle
http://www.mariebelle.com/
I never even used to like hot chocolate before Mariebelle! Now I get it about once every winter.


Homemade Granola Bars (w/o the Chocolate)

via kblog.lunchboxbunch.com














A Glass of Wine

Some Apple Cider

But not all at once.

The One Where I Confess to Having Been a Little Grumpy

. . . and rejoice that it finally went away!

Lately I've been staying up later than PCP-usual, and this week I haven't had any downtime. My diet's most recent incarnation threw me for a loop because it's more food than I've been used to planning for (fish for breakfast?) AND I felt like my body was going into reverse—not at all aided by the fact that smaller boobies make my waist appear larger. (Although my arms look good. Sizzle.)

Then today I woke up and voila! Belly fat was starting to go away! Better mood! (Perhaps this had something to do with my not eating handfuls of grapes after I had already had my allotted 180 g of nighttime fruit while Pacato yelled "weigh it!" from the other room. At least one of us is trying to make sure I follow the rules.)

Though . . . I am a little disturbed that the height of my mood is dictated by the size of my belly. Minus one point for feminism. Plus one for my therapist. There, I shared my feelings.

Cupcakes anyone?

Courtesy of your local Neiman Marcus . . .

Don't Sweat It

Yesterday I attended a sweat lodge for the first time. I'm not sure if attended is the proper word. Was humbled by? I was trying to think of how it might connect to PCP, and I'm sure there are some parallels. After all, they're both intense experiences. A lot of work, for sure. And the more energy you put in, the more you get out. Both test your limits, and there are rainy days like yesterday, when even the lodge leader said he'd rather be in bed. He came anyway, he said, because he'd made a commitment, and when he makes lodges a regular practice, his life gets better.

At the bottom of it all, though, a lodge is just a group of people, many of whom didn't know each other before, gathering to sweat together, to share out loud their experiences—their triumphs, trip-ups, desires, and gratitudes—and to come out the other side with a new perspective. A lot like our group of five here with our trusty leader Patrick.

So I just wanted to take a minute to tell my fellow PCPers how grateful I am, especially the ladies who will be the last to reach peak condition before the clock strikes midnight on 2009: Shelly, Denise, Naomi, and Jonti. Y'all are awesome. I love reading your blogs and seeing your progress, and I'm grateful for your thoughtful comments, your inspiration, and your good humor. Thank you for sweating it out with me!

Due to the soul-stealing powers of the camera, I wasn't allowed to take pictures of the lodge. So I'll leave you with a photo of me, post-sweat, enjoying my grilled salmon spinach salad at the Yankee Clipper. The jury is still out on whether visiting a roadside diner after a purification rite is part of ancient tradition. . . .

Is the Glass 2/3 Full or 1/3 Empty?

Happy Day 60 everyone!

I've been stoked about Day 60 coming—a nice round way to say . . . two months down and only one to go! Way to go, ladies!

I'm in a great mood this morning because I finished my exercises, showered, dressed, and ate my breakfast with time to spare (to write a blog post!) I, too, was guilty of longer-than-necessary workouts. Although now I think I've gone to the other extreme—perhaps I'm doing them a little too fast. Today, I finished jump rope and strength exercises in about 40 minutes. I'm like Speedy Gonzales with a resistance band.

In other news, I'd like to amend my list of least favorite exercises to include forward shoulder raise. To be fair, I'll add another favorite: kung fu sit-ups!

And . . . I made shortbread last night and only had a small taste of the dough plus a nibble of the finished product. Amazing development! It helped that I ate some real food first . . . funny how that works.

Now that it's just us girls...and Patrick...

Um . . . where did my boobs go?

I woke up a few mornings ago, and it seemed they had stolen away in the night. Not a postcard, not a phone call . . .

I was always a little jealous of the girls who could buy a shirt without trying it on or layer and still look cute (and not at all uniboob-y). But these days, I'm feeling a bit rectangular.

I mean, were they really made of Reese's Cups and chocolate chip cookies???

A Personal Culinary Triumph

A few days ago I tried the (out of season) squash-as-spaghetti-noodles trick with a homemade tomato sauce. Delicious! Definitely added to my regular life repertoire. However, it whet my appetite for something bigger, more gourmet: LASAGNA!

Behold the noodleless-less, cheese-less, meat-less lasagna!

Wait a minute, that doesn't sound like much fun! I assure you, to a pescatarian PCP girl who can't eat cheese and isn't allowed any dinner carbs, it is the height of tasty goodness. My cheese and meat-eating dinner companions agreed. All of us had seconds.

I got the idea from this recipe on the Houseboat Eats blog, and I ran with it, coming up with my own tomato sauce and modifying a fake cheese recipe I found from the New Farm Vegetarian Cookbook.

Eggplant-noodle Lasagna

2 eggplants

salt (don't worry, we're going to wash it off)

fresh spinach

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Slice eggplant lengthwise into thin sheets (about 1/8 inch if possible). Place in single layer on baking sheets and generously sprinkle with salt on both sides. Let sit for 30 minutes or so to draw out moisture (so lasagna won't be too soupy). Rinse eggplant thoroughly and use your fingers to squeegee off excess water. Lay out a kitchen towel and place eggplant in single layer on towel. Cover with another towel and pat dry. Set aside till you're ready to use it.

For sauce:

1 tsp or less of olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced (or however much you like)

1 can no-salt-added tomato sauce

fresh tomatoes, chopped (I used 2 heirloom because they were nice and squishy)

fresh mushrooms, chopped (I went with Maitake—yum!)

oregano

thyme

pepper

Saute onions and garlic in olive oil. Add mushrooms and saute a few more minutes. Add tomato sauce, tomatoes, oregano, thyme, pepper, and whatever other seasonings you wish. Simmer. If it's too watery, you can add some cornstarch to thicken.

For cheese:

1/2 c nutritional yeast flakes

1/2 c flour

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp garlic powder

2 c water

1 tsp wet mustard

Mix dry ingredients in sauce pan. Whisk in water. Cook over medium heat, whisking, until it thickens and bubbles. Cook 30 seconds more, then remove from heat and whip in mustard. It will thicken as it cools. Makes about 3 cups.

For lasagna:

Place single layer of eggplant on bottom of casserole plan. Top with cheese, then add a layer of spinach and top with sauce. Repeat till you run out of ingredients or room in the pan! Eggplant should be the last layer. Top with tomato sauce. Bake for 30 minutes or so. Enjoy!

Mine came out a bit soupy (the sauce), but it was delicious nonetheless. Non-PCPers may want to add a little salt to the sauce, and by all means, if you're not lactose intolerant, use real cheese! This recipe might be interesting with layers of smoked salmon where ham might be used, but I'm pretty sure that's against the rules right now . . .

Aside: watching the salt draw moisture out of the veggies is an advertisement not to eat salt if I ever saw one.

Double aside: I realized once it was too late, that the flour in the fake cheese actually did mean I was eating some dinner carbs, but I'm not splitting hairs here . . .

Currently craving...

trail mix

and/or

chocolate-covered raisins . . . or maybe carob-covered raisins

Instead I'm going to opt for . . . 

via kanko* on Flickr

Just trying to rewire myself to try the tea first whenever I want to eat sweet. It's funny how I crave things I normally wouldn't now that I can't have any of it . . .

Shiver Me Timbers...

Week 8!

If this was the 17th century, and we were pilgrims, we'd be almost to Plymouth by now. Luckily, we're not . . . I get seasick.

Also, pilgrim bounty probably doesn't look like this:

The perils of shopping when you're hungry

Especially in the winter. I mean, they probably had to forage for their maitake mushrooms. The funny part is that all of that food will probably be gone before the week's up.

This week's what-on-earth-is-this buy was persimmons. I've never had one. Last week's was romanesco (you have to say it with an accent—rrrromanesco—and sort of throw your hands into the air or toss around your flamenco skirt, whichever) which I served with Naomi's delicious curry.

Behold the romanesco!

P.S. Don't worry. An abundance of greens are coming with Thursday's farm share.

P.P.S. Guess who's currently reading Sarah Vowell?

P.P.S.S. Not that pilgrims would say "shiver me timbers," but it's not often a girl gets to talk like a pirate. And since we were at sea anyway . . .

Ahh...sweet indulgence...

The indulgences are here! The indulgences are here!

The best part of this indulgence was the timing. I was so tired when I got home last night. It was the perfect night for takeout hummus and home-baked cookies. The only thing missing was a glass of wine.

I mean, technically, I jumped the gun. The call to indulge was issued for today, not last night. But I realized when I cubed a perfectly good slice of butternut squash and threw the pieces directly into the compost instead of the steamer that I had no business in the kitchen.

I even got all grumpy when the large(!) order of hummus arrived with only one(!) pita. I mean, how's a girl supposed to eat her face off with only one pita?

It's turns out, she's not. The hummus was so salty! There was a day when I could eat all the hummus and all the pita and all the extra pita, but that day is gone. Who am I?

Oh, but the cookies . . . gentle baking bliss. They were good. I'm not going to lie. I ate enough dough to make myself sick. But not too sick to try a peanut butter cup cookie. Yum!

Aside from the giant rock in my stomach, the bloating, the gas, the not being able to sleep, and the thirst when I woke up, this morning I looked like I had added an extra layer of fat to my belly. So, that's nice. 

Still . . . long live cookies! I'll just eat the dough sparingly next time.

And now back to our regularly scheduled salt-free, oil-free, sugar-free programming . . .

And then there were five...

Wow, is it really just us left? Way to go, Heather and Melanie!

A job well done to everybody who finished this past week! I have to admit, though, I was a little jealous this morning when I got up. I was soooo not feeling my workout. But owing to the fact that glorious timed jumps start tomorrow—woot!—I hammered out my last 1500, and by the time Pretty Ricky came on the mix, I was pistol squatting like a champ. Well, not exactly like a champ. I have a feeling I am doing this exercise all wrong, as it is never particularly hard. Annoying, yes.

I did the rest of my workout while I listened to this episode of This American Life called Living Without. It sort of reminded me of our 3-month endeavor here, especially the prologue.

Then I did the New York City Marathon.

Mile 8

I didn't actually run it. But I cheered my cousin (and lots of other runners) on throughout the course. It's funny the things that come out of your mouth when you're trying to sound motivational to people you don't know. Yeah, Bob! Way to go, Angela! Woohoo! Lookin' good, Pete! You can do it, Barbara! Almost there! (I'm not sure if this one is actually helpful when you've run 23 miles, and you still have 3 miles to go.)

At any rate, by the time I got home, I felt like I had run the marathon. And then I opened my e-mail to discover [sound the bugles!] an INDULGENCE. More to come . . .

P.S. Lookin' good, ladies! Keep it up! More than halfway there! Woohoo!